Aisling

Things That Are Totally Fabulous (besides me): Writing.Strangers smiling at me in the street (bonus points if these are cute boy strangers).1970 Dom Perignon.Literature.Black and white photography.Flowers.Everything East Coast.Almost nothing West Coast.Manolo Bl(ister)niks.Bubble Baths.Sweet smelling note paper.Egyptian Cotton sheets on my soft perfect skin.Cristal Rose.Being spoiled.Corsets.Licking ice cream off my perfectly manicured fingers.99's and pelicans in St. James' park.Roses.Front row anything.Back stage everything!Red wine.The ocean.Humid days when my hair is in perfect titian curls.Lanvin silk skirts swooshing against the back of my perfectly toned calves.Music.Erotica.Art.Guns.Strippers.Diamond and platinum tennis bracelets.Hermes scarves.Anything Juicy- couture, pizza, pasta, me -is always a good time.Compliments from total strangers about how gorgeous I am.When my fiction posts are so fabulous people actually believe its non-fiction.Stirring up a little gossip(Who doesn't love being the center of attention?).The absolute euphoria of writing something so brilliant, so piercingly true, that I can't believe I wrote it (but then, at the same, I can believe it; I'm so complex).Kisses.Long afternoon walks.Dancing.Lingerie.Porn.A new designer dress hanging in my closet with the tags still on, waiting to become a part of me.Tender, fragrant spaghetti, laced with fresh basil and swirls of parm.Watching a great chick flick, and realizing that the gorgeous, empowered heroine is really just like me (except my boobs are even bigger!).Watching my reflection over my shoulder walking away in Christian Louboutin shoes.Gossip phone calls with my sister.The sound of my Jimmy Choos clicking against city pavement.Being a daddy's girl.Old movies.The New York Times.Vintage Playboy.The way my ass looks in True Religion jeans.Summer dresses.Catcalls directed at me because I look so hot.Chocolate cake.Being needed. (I'm not needy, I'm needed. I love knowing that without my calm guidance and sympathy, someone might drown in depression. That knowledge keeps me warm and safe from those jealous haters who don't really get me.)OPI Nailpolish. (I believe a girl's nailpolish shade says a lot about her. My favorite is "I'm not really a waitress red" because it reflects my mysterious allure and inner vixen.)Spending summers with family in Ireland.Hugs.Make-up.Pin-up girls.Little blue bags.Swimming.Golf.Perfume.When my gorgeous freckles poke through my milky white skin at the first sign of summer.Candles.Surprises. (Especially when these surprises are expensive gifts.)Things I Do Not Like: JAPS. Being mistaken for a JAP because people don't recognize my fresh, original personality, and unique talent. Jealous haters. Canned anything. Girls who chug beer. Knock Off Handbags (You really can afford at least one "it" bag. Coach doesn't count. They're cheap and every middle class female has one. I have four "it" bags. Louis Vuitton, Balenciaga, Gucci, and of course, the famous Chloe Paddington). Women who wear clothes from bad mall chains (even middle class women- there's just no excuse). Blisterniks (we have a love/hate relationship). People who talk endlessly about themselves. People who refer to me as "that self-obsessed, pretentious little skank", but always by people who secretly wish they were me. Cats. Cooking (Why do something you can pay someone else to do for you?). When people say TMI. (There's no such thing as too much information, not when you're as complex and fascinating as me).Things I'm good at: dancing, writing, flipping through magazines, singing, shopping, applying lip gloss, being honest, and shaking martinis.Things I'm not good at: Being polite, faking things, lying, and saving money.I'll be adding more to this list soon, but right now, it's time for me to sink into a steaming bath full of Evian and champagne - with my sweet puppy, of course - and wonder why the men in my life never call me back