Lazy lady.

Consider me couch-locked.

I cannot move. My computer is a ten thousand pound weight on my lap. This is a problem considering my psychology book is about nine feet away from me and I have a quiz to take in the next 29 minutes. Ahhhh!!

Perhaps I will muster up some strength to close the gap.
(Perhaps not.)

On a fatter note - I made a cake on Saturday night. Yellow cake with milk chocolate frosting. What is the special occasion? I craved it.

As it turns out, James doesn't like cake that much.

Judge me not, but I have already eaten half of it. And I don't plan on stopping there. Oh no, I will munch on until there is nothing left but Pyrex.

Book time.




Love,
Khyrie Tess - La Gordita!

not 2 kool 4 skool.

The splendid semester has once again begun.
*by splendid I mean...un-splendid*
har har har.

I am hoping to enjoy my classes more. The more positive attitude I have about it, the less bad it seems to be.

My wonderful James is really cute. He makes me laugh when I want to be a grumpy brat.
Thanks boyfriend.
He puts a big fat smile on my face.

I just realized how I keep jumping thoughts.

Try to keep up.

I am slightly addicted to Desperate Housewives.

I have mice in my ceiling.

I just recovered from a little something called torticollis.

My music teacher thinks he should be writer - thus he wrote his own textbook for our class. An inspiring love story between two college students professing their love through classical music education. However, I firmly believe Mr. I-Don't-Know-How-To-Use-Quotation-Marks-Correctly should really stick to music. And published textbooks.

I have fallen in love with an amazing accessory.





Isn't she a beaut?
I want her. What's the price you ask? $188. Ouch. Thus, tomorrow I am taking my papa with me to the store to find one more within the budget without sacrificing style of course. I cannot wait :)

Love,
Khyrie Tess - the (unashamed) sleazy show watcher

I appear to be famous.

That's what it translates to right? When someone follows your blog?

I will now take this time to single out a certain Brissa L. Porter.
L for Laura, not Licorice.
Wut wut. Yeah. Yeah. Weeeerd dawg.

Yes, I just made a rap out of that. I wish you could have hear the sick beats I threw down with those lyrics. Wut wut.

Update much?
I scooted my finals all a day forward. Except Biology. That dreadful exam is still on Thursday. Though I wish I would make Thursday disappear this week. FCHD was tonight, and guess what World? I didn't fail. Boom boom pow. My score is a secret, but I'll give you a clue - I was pleasantly satisfied.

Do with that what you will, Sherlock.

Love,
Khyrie Tess - the sickest rapper you'll ever meet

Figaro! Figaro! Figaro!

I was doing a little bit of online browsing this afternoon (I seem to have become addicted). And I came across these beauties. Aren't they just...really...truly...the ugliest things you have ever seen?
Figaro Boots. Unique. Extraordinary.
And OH! They have so many wonderful features. Exposed heel and toe while the ankle stays warm, with that stylish heel that just completes the ensemble. What ARE these???

On a happier note, today is Sunday. Which is the beginning of the rest of the week, obviously. Full week ahead of me. My FCHD final is tomorrow, History is Tuesday, then the murderous Biology is Thursday. I wish I had a very smart study-buddy. Pshh, I wish I could just have someone else take them for me. Lamesauce, but I think I'll survive because after this week, the semester is over. YAHOOOOO!

It's cold outside. I want to buy another pair of boots...just some super duper stylish ones...like those Figaro Boots perhaps? And for the low price of $149.99 they could be yours too!

That's disgusting.

Love,
Khyrie Tess - the fashionista extraordinaire

Steeze, Style, Grace

This little blog is my little public journal.
Free for all.

FACTS:
On average, I paint my nails two to three times a week.
I look like a monster when I wake up.
I leave all the lights on when I'm home alone.

I'm (probably) going to get mocked by boyfriend for starting this blog.
But he'll secretly love it.