Friday, August 27, 2010

Sangria September


Our potluck International lunch at the office prompted me to make use of myself in the kitchen. Needless to say, starting small would be the most realistic option for me, since I've yet to use my oven. I'm an all or nothing type of person. I don't just "eh" things. I love it, hate it, am obsessed with it, or want to destroy it.
Wine.

Absolutely necessary to engage myself in a self-created month of attacking sangria recipes. Along with cupcakes, New York has a fetish for all-you-can-drink brunch specials, of which include none other than simplistic sophistication -wine. Unfortunately, I can't blame my obsession of grape smashing on my current residence. I'm convinced it's a step up from Purdue's grape Mccormicks and a lukewarm Keystone. I'll be juggling different types of wines, juices, and fruits. Perhaps I may share the best combinations. I am so determined to get rid of my current reputation of being domestically disabled. Just like a magician, I've mastered my way around the microwave. Now it's time to gypsy myself through greater obstacles, much harder than terrorizing those in Greek life who think Ed Hardy is the cat's meow. I will be stewing over my pitcher for the next month like a witch on Halloween. Same type of torture, complexity, and catastrophe.

30 days of solid bliss.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Word Vomit






They all compete for you love
But I don't need to fuck with that
If you don't believe, it's your loss
It's your loss

I don't mind what they say
And I don't need what they got
If you don't like what I say
Put it in your blog
I promise no one gives a damn

I never need your sympathy
'Cause I got my own money
And there ain't nothing you can do me
'Cause I've eaten off the floor before
And we go sha na na na na na
We don't give a damn about
Sha na na na na na
So go on and scream and shout
Sha na na na na na
And I may be rude, but I'm the truth, yeah


Another similarity Mr. Saporta and I share, but we won't go there. I'll make this ever so brief since I'm casually drifting to sleep at 11pm as if I'm not over-worked. It's quite baffling that people would rather go with the flow than stand out by being themselves. I'm blunt, nonchalantly awkward, and have a confusing vocabulary that only my mother would understand (but still can't). Yet, I wouldn't want it any other way. Simply put, I can't take most people seriously. Especially when it comes to appearance. I'm sorry, but I'm guilty of some hardcore judging. If you are incapable of collecting yourself at the beginning of each day, chances are you resemble one who got dressed without a mirror or electricity and perhaps is that disgusting creature who eats a donut on the subway -please choose not to engage in conversation with me. "Hot Mess" is only hilariously appealing when describing a sloppy drunk or a dangerously racy outfit that is questionable of my approval. It's not okay when you tackily over-accessorize as if you were a gypsy, have caked on makeup a few shades darker than your natural skin color, and/or wear leopard and zebra prints at once (piped in hot pink of course). No, I'm not using messy Ke$ha as an example, because she's not hot. Just a solid disaster.

Fact: you can be entirely broke and still be approachable in the public eye. I feel no shame for you.

$5 meal at Burger King wearing a glorified $10 Target bag/clutch/has no shape (that everyone owns) and $15 Charlotte Russe heathered grey studded tunic (that naturally is worn as a dress).

$5-6 healthy pre-made meal at Trader Joes wearing a simplistic $8 Forever 21 gold, fringe necklace and $20-22 Urban Outfitters sale dress/thrift store find.

So when you complain you cannot afford fashion and need to lose weight, I'm just going to cackle back in laughter because no one demanded you make twisted decisions. Thus why magazines were created as an outlet to guide the insignificant souls out of joking harassment and future embarrassment. One day I'm going to write a book. A good chapter will be dedicated to misinterpreted fashion and how disturbing it is to witness "trend setters" and "fad chasers." Hopefully I won't use you as an example. Because like Gabe, I may be rude but I'm the truth.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Dating 101


I'm afraid that term "date" has retired. A guy will take you out, but know that you two are just casually hanging out. So don't fall head over heels right away -especially when he texts throughout dinner. Where did manners go? I demand to know so I can immediately retrieve them. I feel slightly jaded now that I'm in my twenties. Dating is not like how it used to be. Guys would have to get ahold of a girl they are interested in a few days prior to date nights (Friday and Saturday), in hopes she won't be busy and/or say no. Now, it's about convenience. Hey let's go to a bar and then meet up with my friends. Come over and watch a movie after I'm done working out. Let's grab food from that place across the street.

Um, no thank you. I'm a far cry from high maintenance, but when it comes to relationships, I expect nothing less than what I deserve. Especially in the beginning. If it starts out effortless, when will that ever change? These are the years we are suppose to live it up, be mature, and figure out what we need in life. Dating. What does that word actually mean? You are getting to know individuals as you figure out the type of person that is a good match for you, ultimately for marriage. Shocking I'd bring up the M word, but in all honesty, that's the whole purpose of courting. I think that's why the whole dating scene is such a confusing mess. People shy away from anything that screams commitment, because what happens if someone better comes along? That's right, remain single.

Cosmopolitan does a good job pointing out what's sexy vs. skanky, but the offered relationship advice should be ignored.

"If he doesn't call you, he doesn't like you." -Okay this might not be true. And quite frankly, please don't call me. I'm too busy to kick back and talk nonsense. Text me.

"Beware for ultra-romantic dates. He's just hiding his taken status from his friends." -Hi, this absolutely makes no sense. Be happy you aren't on a date consisting of chilling with his friends and slamming back beers.

"Haven't heard from him in a few days? Chances are he's dating other women." -Or maybe he has a life? If you're so worried about him not texting, ask where the hell he's been. You have a phone too. Self-pitty makes me cringe.

"He says you're soul mates. Those powerful words roll off his tongue because he's said them so many times before." -If he has, that's just pathetic. If anyone but Gabe Saporta told me we were soul mates, I'd cackle back in laughter. Seriously? Too much.

Remember, children- you get what you ask for. Dress up as a hooker and you'll receive a guy who is just as shallow. Hang around the Financial District and you will end up in a relationship with a guy that only cares about stocks, money, and having arm candy such as yourself. Always be available and you'll get walked all over.

So what's a girl to do? What you want to do. Have faith in everything falling into place when it should. If you remain true to yourself and pursue your own passions, you will stumble upon someone who is more in sync with what is important to you. And never for a second think you can mold someone into what you want them to be. It's not going to last.

My favorite Lady G quote:
"Some women choose to follow men, and some women choose to follow their dreams. If you're wondering which way to go, remember that your career will never wake up and tell you it doesn't love you anymore."

Friday, August 20, 2010

Enjoy


Happy Friday.

Touch Base

1. Subtle plaids work for you.

2. No need to look directly at us. Too much if you did.
:dies of happiness:

3. Mid-drift tops only suit you.

4. Ridiculous, yet ravishing.

5. You are a 10.

6. You tower over everyone. Not just because of your height.

7. Where the hell is this in NYC?
Clearly not Union Square. You'd see me in the back with small, portable devices -let's be honest.

"We're here to get some drinks, basically," said Mr. Saporta, who was wearing a pink dinosaur Silly Band. Then he got serious, sort of. "I know that M Missoni was bought by Valentino, so I'm here actually doing some investigative reporting to try to figure out why Missoni, which is a brand of its own, would sell M Missoni to another company. Listen, without money and business there would be no parties, so someone is paying for my free drinks, I know that."

Key words: pink dinosaur silly band.
And you ask why I love him.

Soulmates.

Why I Love LA





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Stuck In The Middle

Is it humanly possible for Mika's music to be weirder than his own name? Yes.


In all honesty, I don't hate it. It's different, eccentric, and unique. He attacks his piano like a wizard on crystal meth. Not to mention, he's absurdly the poster child for Lacoste (see above). If you haven't downloaded the entire "Life in Cartoon Motion" album, time to do something with your life. I let my Mika playlist jump around myself at work, and of course I cackle quietly under my breath in satisfactory vain. Only if someone understood a fraction of my baffling behavior would things make more sense.

Do not go another day without the following:

1. Stuck in the Middle
2. Relax, Take It Easy
3. Grace Kelly
4. Over My Shoulder
5. Love Today
6. Big Girl (You Are Beautiful)

Of course they are in order of the best, chin held high I admit I may be the most opinionated person you'll ever meet. What's confusingly true about this statement may or may not make you laugh in bliss: Mika would make a good puppet. Needless to say, I'd be his puppet master. If I ever had a mid-life crisis, I'd go back to college and study puppetry, just for the sole reason to increase my verbal games. Aside from the fact that I would achieve straight A's, I could gain the knowledge behind the works of my own mind. Might sound odd to you. And if it does, it's because you do not dwell in New York. Perhaps that's why I call such a place my home sweet home. I can always bank on someone's actions giving me a story to tell on a morning/afternoon/nightly basis. I see the entire world in a different light just by living here. When I grazed in my Midwest habitat, I was so sheltered from the facts.

People are homeless.
People eat yogurt as icecream.
People are homosexuals.
People live in $950,000 lofts.
People dance on the sidewalks.
People dress up to get groceries.
People dance on the subways.
People buy you a drink from across the bar.
People hand out granola bars on your way to work.
People yell profanity infront of children.
People wear wigs for fun.
People go to block parties.
People drink sangria like water.
People break even with every pay check.
People wear fur vests in the summer.
People do not own cars.
People throw sticks.
People own tiny puppies.
People are different. Very different.

I like it.

A lot.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

So Little Time


I grew up with these two. Let's reflect.


























The duo that hit the spotlight at the age of two years old. A big round of applause- they made it big. Really big. Television stars, fashion icons, and didn't sell themselves out by ending up in jail. Seriously though, to be in fame your entire life and not mess up that much? Proud.

Everyone goes through their issues and it made me sick that Mary-Kate was a target of it all. Why didn't the media harass the 6 foot couture runway models who are 90lbs soaking wet? Insensitive people that try to tear down those who are incredibly successful will go absolutely no where in life. If I could make that a fact, I'd dispose of my Betsey Johnson wardrobe, just for a simple statement. Spending most of your days being bitter and trying to make everyone around you as unhappy as you are means you are a pathetic fool. Lock yourself up in a cage and nonchalantly toss your phone out the window. It's not like you have friends who give a damn anyways.

I will always be an Olsen Twins fan. They never stop. Approaching mid-twenties, remaining a fraction below the paparazzi radar, and partnering with Steven Madden to create amazing shoes? Shut up.

Side note: It sounds entirely wrong to say "Ashley and Mary-Kate Olsen" doesn't it. Keep strong girls.