In No Particular Order

A Few Ways to Make the Winter More Bearable

I know, I know, I said I would chant this little saying when the going got cold, but this list is for when Camus just isn't cutting it. It's no secret that winter is not my favorite season, and these are a few things that make the transition from fall to spring a little easier.

1) Build a Fort

Image courtesy of SFGirlByBay

I'm serious. It's a great way to feel like a kid, see your home in a new way, and makes everything feel a little cozier and more covert. Go with it. Make a password. Demand presents and bribes for those who want to gain entry. 

2) Frozen mango pieces

I eat frozen mango right out of the bag and it's my favorite summer snack. The other day, bundled in blankets on the couch I had a few bites and could almost forget that I had to dig out my car to leave in the morning.

3) Friends in warm places.

Image courtesy of This is Glamorous

Make them. Visit them. Love and treasure them.

4) Hats

Image courtesy of Toxic Gypsy

I love them. In winter, it's acceptable to wear them every day. Small comfort.

5)  Color

Whether it's in your home, on your face, in your wardrobe, brighten up. 

6) Cashmere

When I see people in the fashion industry refer to cashmere (or fur or designer labels or whatever) as necessities it makes me more than a little stabby. These things are (unnecessary) luxuries. That said, cashmere can be an affordable luxury, when done right. Winter sales and Goodwill stores are my best friends when it comes to this gorgeous fabric. 

7) Candles

Image courtesy of The Glamourai

My dad used to work at Yankee Candle, which has led to a love-hate relationship between candles and I. But their light really does perk up a room and so long as no one ever. ever. burns a lilac scented anything around me again, I think candles and I will get on just fine.

8)Homemade spa treatments

The winter air wreaks havoc on my skin and hair (not to mention photo shoots that involve buckets of hairspray) and I have a few tried and true recipes to keep the flaking and redness to a minimum (now if only I had time to use them).

Lip scrub

1/4 tsp. oil, either olive, canola or, my favorite, coconut

1/8 tsp. brown sugar

Mix together, rub on lips, try not to eat.

Body scrub

I've bolded the essential ingredients, and the rest are just skin-loving gravy*

1/4 c. Olive Oil

1/8 c. Sugar

1/8 c. Coffee

2 T. Sea Salt

1/8 c. Rice Vinegar

Sprinkle of Sake

Mix together, test on arm. I make mine pretty goopy, because I have sensitive skin. If you don't, add more exfoliating ingredients. It's great for dry, flaky or irritated skin. 

 Hair Treatments

Dry Hair: olive oil & egg whites

Oily Hair: vinegar & egg yolks

Dull Hair: beer

Or, if you're like me and have a special combination of dry hair and an oily scalp, just chuck eggs and other random ingredients at your head in frustration.

*that sounds really gross, I apologize.

Happy New Year!

The Chinese New Year is coming up, and many celebrated this weekend. Soon it will be the Year of The Rabbit, as it was when I was born.

Image courtesy of CuteOverload.com

I was never a huge fan of rabbits, really. I was a guinea pig girl, and rabbit never seemed to be as friendly or awesome to me. Chalk it up to overexposure to the Tortoise and the Hare stories, maybe.

Don't get me wrong,  they're adorable, but they're also a little weird.  With the beady eyes and the twitchy nose (traits which run in my family, come to think of it).

I wish this was real.

I always wish I'd been born during a cooler year, like the Tiger or, better yet, the Monkey:



But, then again, how cute is this?



 Those twitchy little fuckers are growing on me. 

Happy Weekend!

Image courtesy of Vogue.com

It's the weekend, and I have tons of work to do. But it's still the weekend. So, a few friends, a little champagne, some high heels and I'll feel like a million bucks.

Image courtesy of Belle Maison

And for your viewing pleasure, a trippy as balls video that I think is just great.

Camus on a Snowy Morning

"In the midst of winter, I found 

there was, within me, 

an invincible summer"

-Albert Camus

Image Courtesy of Sprinkle Diary

I'm going to go ahead and start chanting this in times of snow and ice. I think it's an improvement over my current mantra:

"I hate this snow. I fucking

hate this fucking snow.

Fuck this fucking snow."

-Me

Feminine Wiles Mean Nothing to a Man With a Plow

or The 22 Hour Day

Some of you may have noticed that it snowed yesterday. Like, a shit-ton. It turned New York into a beautiful, dreamy winter wonderland and was a raging pain in my ass. 

Image courtesy of Miss Pink Slip

It started out so innocently. Early morning tufts of snow in my red snow boots. A stray bit of ice in the collar of my coat.

Then....45 minutes to drive 8 miles. A closed parking garage and a delayed train seriously jeopardizing my audition (I made it on time, though, which proves that I can only be punctual when I've given up all hope).

Thankfully, the snow didn't interfere with my dinner at Lure Fishbar* or drinks afterwards (where I told several humiliating stories that will not be making it onto the blog).

This is Alec Baldwin waiting for a table at Lure. That means he and I have eaten at the same restaurant (not on the same night...yet).

As my friends and I emerged, we blinked in wonder at the empty streets and late night wanderers throwing snowballs. I hoped that it wouldn't interfere with me getting home, har har har.

A two-hour train ride later, I finally made it to the car.  I slid and slipped to the highway....which wasn't plowed. The teeny back rode near the Dunkin Donuts** is clean as the Queen's throne but the major interstate is covered in two feet of snow.

So, a few creative turns later and I'm almost home. Of course, I'm also totally stuck in a snowbank.

Just as I was about to get really discouraged three good Samaritans came and started shovelling me out with anything we could find- feet, a stray bumper, etc. Plow after plow passed us and ignored our pleas and waving for help.  Although, to be honest, I was just so touched at these strangers stopping to help a stranger in a snowstorm at 3 in the morning (oh, did I not mention it was 3 in the fucking morning?) that I didn't care.

Two of these lovely people even came and made sure I made it home safe. Home at last, right? Wrong. Snow, snow everywhere and not a place to park.

Let me paint you a picture: I have been awake for 20 hours, I've spent the last hour pushing my car out of the snow, and I am now facing at least an hour of shovelling. One of the Samaritans suggested I use my feminine wiles to flag down a plow. I smiled and sent her on her way with some hot chocolate and many thanks. Now, if I learned anything from this entire experience it is this:

Feminie wiles mean nothing to a man with a plow.

 Bed has never felt so good as it did at 5:00am after a 22 hour day of rushing, pushing and shovelling. 

Image courtesy of This is Glamorous

 So, if you need me, I will be reading, resting and doing nothing unpleasant today.

Image courtesy of Sacramento Street

If you see him, tell him I could use his assistance.

You have been a very bad man, Baldwin. Spanking, my room, 10 minutes.

Have a very happy snow day, everyone.

  
*which I highly recommend visiting during Restaurant Week, and not just because Alec Baldwin once ate there. Did I mention Alec Baldwin ate there once? 

**have you tried their caramel hot chocolate? It is liquid crack.

Shoes, shoes, shoes.

If anyone knows where this picture or these shoes came from, let me know

I love these shoes. And I hate the cold. I think these babies and I need to run away someplace beachy, peachy and warm STAT.

Enough is enough.

The other day, I went to a very fancy gym. The type of gym that has a 6-month waiting list, classes you've never heard of and Keihl's in the bathroom next to designer sinks*.

And I found myself standing for quite a while near the entrance watching people come in for their morning workout. I quickly noticed a pattern amongst the members. It was a simple pattern, really. They all looked exactly the freaking same.

This website is a joke, right? RIGHT?!

 Slim-hipped women with Botoxed foreheads, perfect hair and neurotic children marched in, one after another, like a stream of specially designed robots.

We are not dudes. We are hot chicks.

Their uniform was a loose but clingy T-shirt over black leggings atop Minnetonka boots, accessorized with subtle but obviously expensive jewelry. Even the children all looked the same: scared looking, red-headed boys who could use a cupcake, a roll in the dirt and an adventure.

My hair is not perfect. My hips are not particularly slim. And my workout outfit made me laugh when I put it on that morning. For a brief moment, I felt less than these women somehow. Then I simply felt alone.

For your viewing pleasure, an irrelevant picture of ducklings.

I searched in vain for a friendly face but indifferent gazes slid over me. I told myself that these were, in all likelihood, kind, intelligent and lovely women. That their children were probably happy, funny kids with lovely lives.

And while that is probably true, I still felt somehow desolate in a sea of bored, desperate people.

Now, I should have prefaced this little story by stating the following:

Most of my teenage rules of fashion have long since been discarded (ie never wear pink with red, never mix metals or leather) but a few remain.

-Never wear more than 3 items of the same color, unless a 3-piece suit is involved**.

-Never wear anything with a cutesy saying or image embroidered on it, especially not holiday related kitschery.

-Never wear sweatpants that bunch at the ankle (at least not in public).

-Never ask me what I think about your outfit if you don't want my honest opinion.

Simply a few rules that I dress by. And on that day, in that gym, amonst all those women, I saw an older woman wearing bright red sneakers, bright red bunchy sweatpants and matching sweatshirt complete with embroidered snowmen on it, bright red sunglasses and, to top it off, bright red lipstick.

She was laughing her head off. And had she taken the time to ask me what I thought of her outfit, I would have honestly said, "it's bloody brilliant."

But of course, she was too busy guffawing at whatever the person on the other end of her cell phone call was saying to give a shit about what I thought.

Image courtesy of Advanced Style. Note: this is not the woman I saw.

Now, I had planned to have here a long conclusion paragraph about why she was such a welcome sight and how important it is that we treasure the people like her in our lives. But, really, what it comes down to is this: people like her exist. And that is enough. It may even be wonderful.


*I find it very odd that such a thing exists.
**And even then exercise caution.

In No Particular Order

Last night was birthday parties, late night Swiss Family Robinson screenings, emergency tater tot runs and hilarity.

Today is bagels and lox, slowly sipped coffee and getting lost in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Tonight I think I'll sip some wine, clean my study, and stay up all night writing.

And now,
a few things I think are totally unnecessary and completely awesome.

1) This champagne.

Image Courtesy of Instyle.com

Delicious and DIY.

2) These slippers.

Image Courtesy of Streetzie's High Heels

Probably the silliest, least practical slippers I've ever seen. I want them. 

3) This umbrella.

Image courtesy of Opening Ceremony

How much would I love to have this on a rainy, Parisian day?

4) This... hat? Crown? Headdress?

Image courtesy of InStyle.com

Whatever it is, I like it.

5) These straws.

Image courtesy of Oh Joy!

Just when I thought milk couldn't get any better.

6) This charm.

Image courtesy of Tiffanys.com

How much do I love this?

Just a few things that tiptoe the line between extravagant and ridiculous.

In Honor of Martin Luther King

We have come so far.



And we have so far yet to go.

In No Particular Order

Image courtesy of Oh So Beautiful Paper

Happy (belated) New Year!

A few things I'd like to do in the next decade.

1) Fear less. 

Image courtesy of Fredericka Rose

According to this study,  it is better to follow your gut when faced with decisions. I assume they mean better than becoming crippled with indecision and hemming and hawing forever, as I am wont to do. So I would like to be more decisive and brave in my decisions.

2)Travel, read & learn more.

Image courtesy of SFgirlbybay

3) Get married.

Image courtesy of Oh Joy!

 I don't know when, but ten years is a long time, and I'm pretty sure even I could pull together a wedding in that amount of time.

4) Do what I love as much as possible.

Image courtesy of Fredericka Rose

  Time and money are, and may always be, an issue. But I would like, within the next decade, to keep them from being an obstacle. To structure my days around my passions not how I can afford or find time to pursue them.

5) Drink more martinis. Eat more macarons.

Image courtesy of Belle Maison

For no reason other than I really like them.

6) Go back here. As soon as possible.

Image courtesy of This is Glamorous

I'm not sure why, but I couldn't bring myself to make any New Year's Resolutions this year. I know, I can't believe I passed up an opportunity to make a list either. Maybe because I don't know what this year will bring, but I have a feeling it will be a lot, and I just want to take it as it comes. But a decade is a long time. I think I can handle it.

Shoes, shoes, shoes

Valentino Shoe

I love this shoe. I love it so much I want to marry it and have little half-shoe, half-me babies.

If you follow me on Twitter, you already saw this. Sorry.

As someone who works in an industry of 16-year-olds who look like 8-year-olds, I like this video. A lot.

Snow Day Recap

It was much more pleasant inside

 

 

Homemade lattes

Lounging in bed in old man pajamas

Chocolate chip cookies, made with my new measuring cups. 

Aren't they cute?

Good book, good wine, hot bath.

Snow Day!

The week may not have started off well (see here for details) but it's really coming through for me now.

it's a snow day.

That means eating frozen mangoes straight out of the bag, drinking homemade lattes, taking silly pictures and hot baths. 

All images courtesy of This is Glamorous

But it also means getting to all those niggly, little things on my To-Do List (that shit gets capitalized) that I haven't found the time* to do. 

Like unpacking the china that I inherited from my grandmother. And taking the time to carefully place each item and let the memories come. I worry sometimes that I place too much value and sentiment into belongings. They are so fleeting and unimportant in the long run, I know. But while there can be a lot of stress and heartache in going through a loved one's belongings, there can also be a lot of joy. 

For example: my family struggled after my grandparents' deaths. With them gone, there was no reason to keep their house. And those two and that house seemed, to me at least, to be the glue that held our family together. It was out of the way, hard to get to, impossible to maintain and yet still we gathered there holiday after holiday. It was the one place where we were always together and, suddenly, it was gone. 

All that was left was grief, and the burden of dealing with their belongings which fell mostly on one person's shoulders. Add that to the confusion of how we were to continue as a family and where all of us could get together under one roof and it felt as though we were floundering. 

But then, we found a place and a time to get together and go through the last of my grandmother's things. Enough time had passed that we could laugh, and it was still new enough that we leaned (just a little) on each other for support. Three boxes: Goodwill, trash, and keep. 

The china came home with me in my 'keep' pile, and as I unwrapped it today a lot came back. As I pulled sheets from the New Yorker off plates I thought of Sally, and the dozens and dozens of New Yorkers strewn the house. I found a few straw dog hairs in a teacup and I thought of her yappy little Jack Russells, one beloved to her, the other beloved to my grandfather. Neither of them was very beloved to anyone else. Several soup bowls were wrapped in gin ads and I thought of my grandfather's martinis. 

I don't need that china set to remember my grandparents. But I'm glad I have it, nonetheless.

*between getting engaged, battling an airline, and vomiting radioactive bile I have just been swamped.

Craptastic Sandwich of a Situation

So, I thought my first post this week would
       A) be made on Monday
       B) be about the lovely engagement brunch that The Boy's parents were going to throw us on Sunday

but, so very unfortunately, I ended up in the hospital on Sunday morning and stayed there well into Monday. Why I was there is a long, boring and kind of gross story so I'll keep it short: we thought it was appendicitis, and it wasn't. We don't know what it was, but it was awful.

So, in light of that craptastic sandwich of a situation, I thought I'd post a few things that I think are just lovely.

I love this picture:

Image courtesy of Oh Joy

I love this outfit:

Image courtesy of The Sartorialist

I love that this happened:



I love this computer case:

Image courtesy of See Me Everywhere

I love this place:

Image courtesy of This is Glamorous

I love The Boy. 
I promised myself that even though we were engaged I would keep the blog from becoming a sappy love fest* but he was really lovely while I was in the hospital. Held my hand, fed me juice, slept by my hospital bed, filmed me while I was on morphine (a video is worth 4 words: "blinking is like...whoa"). If I eventually post the video of me doped up, will you forgive this momentary girly moment?

*because, to be honest, I hate that kind of shit.