Fashion Victim

I don’t do Fashion, I am Fashion. Fashion school sucks. Don’t go.
Just joshing. I have no right meddling in your life decisions, but I do know Fashion school is not for me. Throughout high school I think it was just assumed I was destine for the Fashion Industry. I let my peers, and elders decide what I was going to be when I quote “grow up”. Nearly 2 semesters, and $30,000 dollars later I realize: “be who you are, not who people want you to be or who you think people want you to be”. Letting outside pressures and assumptions decide what you can and cannot do will only give you headaches, and empty pockets. 

Knowing what you don’t want to be is the first step in discovering what you want to be. I don’t regret my time at LIM. It gave me friends (and my now best friend), made me love NYC, and most importantly myself. I found the city, now time to find the school! Nutrition and Exercise Science/ Physical Therapy here I come.

I don’t do Fashion, I am Fashion.  I do Fashion- I am not Fashion.

XoXo- Limardi <3

After all we all have secrets, right?

It all started off very innocently, giving up sweets for lent. A few weeks in and the question presents itself: “Have you lost weight”? Followed by “you look great”… When you spend twenty plus hours a week in a leotard and tights someone telling you you look good will definitely go to your head.            

            Lent came and went and your no-sweets policy continues; the weight seems to just fall off. The following year the now Junior in high school you is on the swim team, still dancing twenty hours a week (around 3-4 hours a night) and wouldn’t dare eat more than 600 calories in a day.

            One day you get home from a grueling swim practice, immediately headed to the fridge. You eat, then you eat some more, then suddenly you are manic shoving every morsel of food you can into your mouth. Soon you just collapse right there on the kitchen floor for fear your stomach might burst. Laying there baffled at what just happened the guilt sets in followed by panic- you have a dance performance in a matter of hours, so you struggle to stand, waddle to the bathroom, open the toilet and are surprised at how easily your index and middle finger slide to the back of your throat. After much effort, and heaving all you can do is stare into the once pearly white bowl. You’re exhausted, can’t believe what you have just done, but for some reason can’t wipe the diluted smirk of satisfaction from your face…. and the trouble takes a new form. 

XoXO-Limardi <3

"I was slowly losing hold of my original and better self, and becoming slowly incorporated with my second and worse."- Jekyll

A classic case of Jekyll and Hyde Syndrome: you are feeling on top of the world “doing you” until that dark sinking feeling begins to creep back in. Starting at your toes it slithers up into the pit of your stomach then moving up through your chest until its heavy with emptiness. You now realize just how alone you are. You struggle, weighing the pros and cons, but something possesses you hands, and before you can do anything you have already pressed send. You surprisingly feel relieved, only to realize milliseconds later you have just shifted the power from you to them…

XoXo-Limardi <3

Happy Anniversary to me!

"I am an Independent woman! Not by choice but by circumstance"- me

           

If you haven’t checked the calendar yet it’s April 18^th, which means it has been 4 months and 1 day of  my Saharan dry spell. My father would be so proud.

Yesterday I swear it was like people knew. Everywhere I looked couples mocked me; sticking their tongues down each others throats, being all touchy feely- BITE ME! No but really bite me I’m into that shit. It’s true what they say about not appreciating something until it’s gone…  

Ain't no Mountain High, Ain't no Valley Low....

I didn’t do it on purpose, lose touch with my b-lo peeps, but shit happens. College has been going, schoolwork is piling up, and I’m trying to decide where to transfer. I’ve been making new buddies, hanging with my NYC Family in Queens, and “I be up in the gym just working on my fitness” for 4 hours a night.

I was anticipating this, losing touch, not being able to talk all day everyday with them, I just didn’t expect for them to shun me. I guess I won’t be able to see the damage done until May 20^th when I drop trou in Buffalo for about a month, to work before heading back to the city.

-True friendship stands the test of time, and isn’t phased by distance because you carry their spirit in your heart. That's what is most important- XoXo Limardi<3      

CLICK ME!

I'm down

Well today it is not “a beautiful day in the neighborhood”. New York City is hidden under a massive gloomy, gray rain cloud- yuck. Monday I whipped out the daisy dukes, and didn’t give a flying fig about the disapproving glances. I don’t know what the problem was. It was about 74 out! Y’all are the crazy ones, wearing jeans and what not. Let the gams breath geesh. I will say that there were a few who took a liking to my exposed neon legs. I got looks of admiration, and lip licking from about four middle aged black fellas. I find I receive more attention from that demographic than any other. For example on Facebook I have 68 pending friend requests, and about 25 of those are from middle-aged black men whom I have never met nor have mutual friends with. I swear its like they just know I’m “down”. Lol

XoXO-Limardi<3

Masochists (Forgot to post this one from a few weeks ago...)

I have a secret to tell, but you have to somely swear not to tell a sole…If you are still reading then I assume you vow to keep my secret. Okay here it is. It’s been three months. I repeat: THREE WHOLE MONTHS since this girl has gotten a little tender love and care- Okay. Maybe that’s not really a secret... but at this point I would be thrilled if an old man “copped a feel” on the subway. I am in the Sahara Desert and I need an oasis to quench my thirst! 

This weekend did not help at all. It all started with Friday night. The roommate and I went to see The Lincoln Lawyer starring the sexy Matthew Mcconaughey. (The movie was incredible. Go see it now- well after you read the rest of this post). Anyways we got seated early, and soon after we were situated the couples came crawling in. We had forgotten that it was 8 on a Friday night- date night. Before we knew it they had us surrounded. Ick. Two seats were open to my left. A very pregnant woman waddled up the stairs and asked if the seats were taken. They weren’t, only by my imaginary bf, but he didn’t mind. Later her hubbie came, and all the couples were stinking up the joint with their lovey-dovey shit. I had been doing so well, and they all had to ruin it! I still don’t want a boyfriend. I guess what I want is a man friend. One you aren’t dating but can just use for nights like this. A fill in bf I suppose, for when I’m lonely. (Fill in, not “fill in the gap in my vagina” (that's a f-buddy)).  Anyways the movie starts and I can’t concentrate because I am thinking about how I’m lonely, and getting really down in the dumps over it. I tell myself to snap out of it, and I finally get into the movie. Matthew Mcconaughey helped because he was looking good, more than good that fox is F.OI.N.E fine.

 Anways during the movie I as per usual shoved like three sticks of gum in my mouth and was blowing some bubbles. A few were unintentionally loud, but nothing to get your panties in a wad over. I let another loud pop slip and out of the corner of my left eye I see the pregnant woman give herself whiplash because she felt it necessary to burn a hole in the side of my face for snapping my gum. Bitch. More time goes by, the movie is getting intense. Ecept for a few gasps, my roomie and I were quiet the entire time. Towards the mid end of the movie we can no longer hold in out enthusiam for Matthew Mcconaughey. We say (and this is literally what we said): “he is so sexy”. Miss Preggers gives herself whiplash for the second time then leans into baby daddy and points at us. This is where I get PISSED. Listen Lady pregnant or not I'll throw down with chu. If you have a problem all you need to do is ask me to quiet down. "The stank eye", and snye comments are unnecessary. Excuse me, the sexual frustrated girl for not being able to hold in her emotions about the sexy Matthew Mcconaughey. I’m sorry you’re married, and have a stomach the size of a watermelon! Golly...beside this, I had a great night.

Saturday rolls around, and we for some reason after a day perusing the city decide to rent and watch a sappy romantic comedy (we are clearly masochists). We hit the gym, and after three hours, we find out selves sitting in out room sporting messy buns, and sweats- cute. It’s 12:19. We should be at our favorite college bar in Queens NY, with our St. John’s frat boys, but no their Frat had to have “Male bonding”. The rest of the night was spent discussing our sad state. My life is stagnant.

XoXO- Limardi aka. Explicit Virgin (my newly created nickame for myself).