Like 100 million other people, I watched the first Presidential debate last night. Unlike 100 million people, I did not post my opinions on social media. shock! surprise!
Besides being floored by how many of my friends on Facebook are Trump supporters, what surprised me was that there were a good handful of people announcing that they weren’t going to vote, or that they weren’t registered to. This pisses me off more than the grammatically incorrect, misspelled Pro-Trump statuses. (ok, i’ll be fair – some weren’t so bad but the ones that were bad were really, really bad.)
Why does this piss me off? Because most of the people making these statements followed up by saying their votes wouldn’t matter anyway, policies won’t change because of their vote, and that they were still entitled/capable to bitch about the outcome. Capable? Yes. Entitled? Think again.
Your individual vote may not sway a decision directly but, hello? What is voting? The one who gets the most people to pick it wins, right? So, yea your vote might not help or hurt anyone, but if enough people don’t vote, it sure will make a difference.
Am I making sense? This may be one of those things that sound better in my head. Whatever.
My second issue with these comments is if your vote doesn’t matter, then why do(es) people fight to have and keep that right? Especially for those who are not white males.
I am usually stationed at the Voter Registration table at work. This year we’ve gotten an influx of people either signing up or proudly announcing that they’ve already registered. I never push anyone to fill out the form, partly because that would require human interaction and I would rather just use those two hours to read my book. However, filling out the form literally takes one minute and thirty-four seconds. I haven’t actually timed it, but people on Youtube have.
Listen, the bottom line is this: I’m no better or no worse that you for voting. Not voting doesn’t make you a bad person. But, since we’re all busy crying about adulting and having responsibilities and whatever, let’s be the adults that we are, put on our big girl/boy panties and get it done.
Speaking of being an adult, I’ll leave you with this.
There are a handful of things that I miss about not having weekends off. Well, maybe more than a handful but I digress. I think one of the things that I miss most is doing brunch. Actually, I miss the idea of doing brunch because, if we’re being honest, it’s not like I brunched every weekend. I miss the ability to wake up and decide to get a mid-morning meal and a cocktail or two (or seven) and then come home, take off my pants and find the inevitable Kardashian marathon on TV that I will watch from the comfort of my bed. God, I miss my weekends.
The best brunch/party throwers, in my opinion, are socialites (preferably from New York, but I’m biased) and Southern Ladies. Loooorrrd what I wouldn’t give to be either one. Sadly, those weren’t the hands I was dealt. However, I’m all about pretending so that’s what we’ll do. I’m pretending to be a mix of Blair Waldorf and a football mom from Georgia who monograms the shit out of everything. (no hate; i’m all about that life)
I was scrolling through Pinterest (sidenote: as always, if you click the picture you will (should) be taken directly to the pin. i couldn’t figure out how to embed the pin so if i linked it wrong and it’s your pin, let me know and i’ll try to fix it.), as one does when they’re planning fake parties in their heads. I found tons of cute ideas that I’m going to collect here and put together a fabulous brunch!. I’ve decided that I am going to host a brunch for bloggers. More specifically, my blogger friends. Not that I’ve ever met any of them in person, but I’m starting to think that may be the best kind of friend.
Now that we know who is invited, let’s start planning. Every party needs a theme and this party’s theme is *drumroll* A Splash of Mimosa! quelle original! (i don’t speak French, obvs.)Because it’s a blogger brunch and because my blog is splashes of everything, I think it’s the perfect theme. Also, it’s great because, like my niche-less blog, everything will fit. Non-specificity (is that a word? it’s a word now.) works for me!
I can’t decide if i want to go old school and send paper invitations or if I want to go modern and use e-vites. Either way, I’d use Paperless Post*. They offer both paper and electronic invitations. Most come in both formats! They have pre-made invites and ones that you can customize with your picture or one of your dog, whatever. There are so many invitation choices that it was hard for me to choose just one. These are the two that I kept coming back to.
Since my delusion lies in two totally different places, it’s a hard call as to where I’d hold this event. If I’m channeling my socialite side, I’d have to go with either the Plaza Hotel or the Bryant Park Grill. IRL, I’ve never been to either place, but I’ve passed the BPG when they were having other types of parties and they always look like a good time. If I’m channeling my Sandra Bullock in The Blind Side side, I’d of course entertain in my home. Because it’s probably 3500+ square feet of open floor plan.
I like a little of this and a little of that. The overall look I’m going for is very Kate Spade inspired. Lots of stripes, polka dots, flowers, sparkles, cute little touches.
A party is nothing without good food. I love the DIY idea. I’d set up stations like a bagel bar, waffle bar and, of course, a mimosa bar. i mean, duh. I’d also have regular, non-DIY food too.
My cousin always says “it’s not a party without goodie bags”. I happen to agree. Maybe not the traditional candy and a pencil but everyone should leave with something. I would set up (*cough* rent/hire cough*) a photobooth. I love documenting parties, so much so that I have to beg my family and friends for “just one more picture”. I also love a snazzy picture frame to house my party pictures.
I want my guests to be comfortable but, honestly, come dressed. I don’t get dressed up often so I’m coming in heels, a dress and full hair and makeup. But that’s just me. I’ll probably want to scrub my face, throw my hair in a messy bun and take my bra off halfway through. That’s an idea. the after party could be watching movies in either my suite at the Plaza or in my basement movie room, depending on who I’m channeling that day.
Girly. Britney, Bey, Mariah boy bands, old school, new stuff. Is Spotify OK or should I just get a DJ? I mean, is a DJ appropriate at a brunch? Eh. Go big or go home, right?
Did I miss anything? Would you come to my brunch?
*Paperless Post contacted me and asked if i would write this post detailing the perfect brunch. i am not being compensated for this at all. all opinions are my own.
When I started my “new” job, I had a strong feeling that since this position interacts with the public at large much more than my other job, it would lend itself for all sorts of blog anecdotes and stories. In fact when I first started, my boss’ brother, who comes in often and is also a vet, told me that I would have encounters with a lot of crazies and if I had the talent or knew someone who has the talent, I should put together a book of the craziest of the crazy. not in so many words but, you get the idea.
I’ve had a few people grace the front of the reception desk that were definitely blog worthy but this one takes the cake. This story isn’t even mine; it’s about a quarter mine and three-quarters my supervisor’s, but who’s blog is this?
A man came in with his cat to be seen my the doctor on Saturday and after I checked him in, I had to tell my supervisor that in addition to whatever he told me what was wrong with the cat, it also needed something else. Medication, maybe? I can’t remember. This conversation followed: *keep in mind, my supervisor is an excitable Haitian man with a heavy accent*
Me: Hey, F – Mr. whatever his name is also needs ______ whatever, i forgot.
F: Yea? OK. You know, that guy is crazy. Were you here last week when he came in? No, you weren’t. He came in last week with a cat that was *flattening hand motions*
F: Yea, the cat was dead. It got hit by a car so the head was all smashed and everything.
F: Yea. He came in and wanted us to bathe the cat because one of his cats had gotten out and he was convinced that this was his cat.
F: I told him we would wash it if he wanted us to, but for sure the cat he was holding was not his cat. He asked me how I know it’s not his so I told him because the cat you’re holding is white and your cat is brown. Do you know what he said to me? He said, Yea, I was wondering if when they die, if their fur changes color.
Me: Did you wash the cat?
F: No.The cat was dead! Cremate it! Who picks up a dead cat to check to see if it’s theirs? Does their fur change color? He’s crazy, I told you. He said his wife was on his case and that she had a strong feeling it was their cat. It wasn’t their cat! Their cat is brown!
So, now I’m back at the desk and my supervisor comes out and says Hey, Mr. whatever his name is! Did you find your cat?
WELL. I almost lost it.
It turns out, that night the man was in bed, watching TV and he has cameras all around his house so he happened to glance at one of the monitors and saw a cat on the screen that looked like his. He was happy his cat had made it home but he felt bad for the owner of the cat he had found.
Hey guys! Thanks for letting me vent in my last post. Hopefully it didn’t make you click the unsubscribe button. And if it did, well, #byefelicia. Anyway, a while ago, when it didn’t take me so long to sit down and write a post, I opened my Reader to find that Mallory had given me a shoutout in a survey she filled out for her blog. You guys know I love a good survey so I couldn’t resist.
I had to open the seventh circle early today so I figured I could finally sit down and do it. It’s negative 318468 degrees in here today so there’s the added benefit of keeping my fingers moving so that they don’t fall off.
Thanks again, Mallory! Let’s get started, shall we?
1. What is your middle name?: I don’t have one. My parents insist that it was hard enough matching my first name with my last name so they didn’t feel the need to try to add another one in there. I say they should have just followed the late 80’s crowd and thrown a Marie or Lynn in there and called it a day.
2. What was favorite subject at school?: English until I got to college and found the wonderful world of communications classes. History of TV? yes, please!
3. What is your favorite drink?: Non-alcoholic it’s Diet Coke with lemon. The obsession is real. As far as alcoholic beverages go, I like a nice Amaretto and cranberry, which always gets a few side glances when I order it. I don’t understand why though, because it’s the best thing ever.
4. What is your favorite song at the moment?: Ummm.. I’ve had that never getting older song by The Chainsmokers and Halsey stuck in head for the past two days. I don’t really have a favorite song at the moment.
5. What is your favorite food?: Oh, God. So much. Too much.
6. What is the last thing you bought?: I ordered some makeup brushes the other day. I’m drawing a blank on what I spent actual money on recently though. Probably food.
7. Favorite book of all time?: The thing is I read all the time but I don’t have a favorite book. Probably because I read mostly fluffy chick lit so they all kind of blend together, which I don’t mean in a bad way; it’s fine by me. I like any and all of Meg Cabot’s non-young adult series. I really liked her last Princess Diaries one too. I liked Me Before You. I love Sophie Kinsella. I wish Ann M. Martin would write some adult Babysitters Club books. And of course, the American Girl series.
8. Favorite Color?: I don’t really have one. Right now I’m leaning towards emerald green
9. Do you have any pets?: Nope. But since I work at a vet’s office, I consider them all my pets. Whenever someone asks me what kind of pet I have, like a teacher beaming with pride at her class, I say “Oh, none of my own. I have all of these guys” pointing to our wall of charts. That way, when they start acting like assholes, they’re their parent’s problem.
10. Favorite Perfume?: Burberry Body, Chloe by Chloe, Clean Warm Cotton, and, if I’m feeling nostalgic, Gucci Rush 2.
11. Favorite Holiday?: My birthday is a holiday in France so, July 14th.
12. Are you married?: I have many, many, many celebrity husbands. Harry Styles being on top of the list. In real life, no. No one has liked it, therefore I have no ring on it.
13. Have you ever been out of the country, if so how many times?: Well, I went on a cruise to Bermuda, but after I thought I was headed to the Caribbean, I found out that it’s only about 650 miles off of the coast of North Carolina. My passport wasn’t even stamped when we got home so, #travelfail. I’m trying to get my mom to take a quick mom/daughter trip to Canada. I’ll keep you posted.
14. Do you speak any other language?: I speak Brooklyn. That’s about it.
15. How many siblings do you have?: None.
16. What is your favorite shop?: I have a love/hate relationship with shopping. I’m going to leave it at that.
17. Favorite restaurant?: I like food too much to pigeonhole myself into one restaurant.
18. When was the last time you cried?: Probably the other day. I’ve been emotional lately. that shit’s gotta stop.
Hi friends! Long time no speak. That’s what I get for tooting my own horn about posting three times in one week. I’m here today with a post that’s been a long time coming (long time= about a week). I just didn’t know how to start it, what to say in it or what direction to go in. I’m still a little unsure, which is why I’m going to write it and post it, even if it’s still the weekend and I don’t like to post on the weekend. I’m not one to show my vulnerable side, on the internet or in real life, but here we are.
Remember how in on of my recent posts I talked about the universe sending me signs and then not following up on them? Particularly about my love life? Yea, well it’s been really getting to me lately. Like, really dragging me down.
not now, harry
Sometimes I feel like finding love is just not in my cards. I mean, I guess every single 29-year-old girl who has been to weddings of two of her oldest friends exactly two months apart from each other, one of which she officiated, and who is gearing up for her younger cousin’s wedding next year feels this way, right? Naturally. I just feel like no matter what I do I come up empty. I know they say that it will come when I least expect it. Let me say right now, my expectations are so low I should be beating the boys off with a stick. The reality is, I’d probably have to change my name to something like Football to get a guy to even look my way.
I’m not even being dramatic.
Ok, maybe a little.(not really). But I know my reality. I know what I bring to the table and I’m still sitting alone. Normally I’m OK with it; I enjoy sitting alone, but lately it’s getting old when I see my table full of nice things, yet have no one to share them with. Or worse,to be at a table for one in a room full of tables for two.
I was talking about this with my cousin recently and she said to me, “you know, everybody says how hard guys are to understand. They aren’t. If they’re interested, they’ll go for it. If they aren’t, they won’t. Simple as that.” OK, but what you’re telling me is that no guy has been interested in me enough to make a move. I know she didn’t mean it this way, but, in my sad, irrational at the moment brain, that’s how I’m taking it.
I just don’t get it. I’m not saying I’m perfect (faaaar from it) but I know my good points and I don’t understand why I can’t get anyone to care enough to want to get to know them too. I have my hang-ups, like everyone else. My biggest one is probably my body. That’s a whole post that will probably never get written. Case in point – I changed my profile picture on Facebook on Friday. Currently, it is one of my most liked photos on Facebook, sitting pretty at 30 likes, 2 loves and about 5 comments. All of those likes, loves and comments were from women except for two. One was from my very gay (and faaaabuloussss!) makeup artist friend and the other was from a very married man. So, either most of the men on my Facebook are secretly smitten with me and are too shy to hit the like or comment button, or all of the women who liked it are just blowing hot air up my skirt. Again, I know my head is not in the right, rational place lately but still.
I’m casually using a dating website. I go on, check my messages, look through my matches, maybe send out a “trying not to be a creep but totally coming off as one because flirting is hard for me” kind of message, and then signing off. And yes, I do make the first move on these sites. Why? Because if I didn’t all I’d get are messages from guys that I’m not at all interested in. Is it so much to ask that if you message me, your profile is filled out with some sort of thought behind it? Maybe has correct spelling and grammar? i know, i’m a monster.
I know in order to meet people you have to put yourself out there but I feel like, although I’m not a hermit, the bar scene is not my scene. I want to join in on things that I’m interested in but I feel like I have no time. Yet in actuality, I’m sure I can find the time. I’m also extremely shy when I’m around new people so that’s a problem. Especially since I’d want to fly solo and not drag a friend along. My friends are supportive in what I like to do but they aren’t passionate in my passions the way I am. does this even make sense? shoot me.
I don’t know where this post is going because I have so much more to say but I don’t know how to articulate it because it’s getting late (#weekendjobproblems) I’m getting kind embarrassed so I’ll end it here. Sorry for the Debbie Downer post. Thanks to those who stuck it out. I’m sure I’ll be back to my normal self soon enough. I’ve already got my eye on some surveys that I’d like to fill out. See? I’m already on the rebound.
I know I’m not the only one to feel this way. How do you get over/through it?
Happy Monday! Except for me, it’s more like Wednesday since I’ve been working since Saturday.
See what having a weekend job does to you? Or maybe it’s just me since tons of other people seem to cope much better than I do.
Anyway, I figured I would share what I did this weekend, even though it was technically Thursday and Friday.
Wednesday afternoon I got a text from Lisa asking if I wanted to go to the Promenade later that day. I’ve talked about the Promenade before. It’s in Brooklyn Heights, has excellent views of lower Manhattan and is where I spent most of my lunch breaks in college.
So, we’re walking and enjoying a nice summer night in Brooklyn Heights. the views! the brownstones! the yuppies! oh my! At the same time, we look up and see the Brooklyn Bridge. “We should walk over the bridge,” Lisa says. “Ehh, I don’t know, Lee. I haven’t eaten. I hear it’s a steep incline. We should do it eventually, though.” I reply. “Yeah, you’re right. What do you want to eat?”
P.S. We walked over the Brooklyn Bridge.
After talking ourselves out of it, we figured, what the hell. After we got turned around looking for the footpath entrance, we were finally on our way. Let me tell you, the entrance is like the long walk towards death. It starts to steadily incline and all of a sudden you’re walking over cars. Then, the bridge itself is wooden planks. I was terrified. There were people all over who DID NOT MOVE. On our right, we had the Tour de France passing on their bikes. Every time a bike sped passed, the boards moved, like a typical beach boardwalk. Except over cars and water. I think if I were able to calm down for a minute and catch my bearings, I would be OK, but in general, the whole walk was torture. I was mad at myself afterward because I feel like I missed out on a really great experience. I’d go again, but in the daytime and with a clearer head.
All of that being said, look at these views. *i can’t figure out if these pictures are kind of blurry because i was shaking or if i was zoomed out too far and it was dark. just another reason to go over again.
Obviously, I’m obsessed with the Empire State Building. I almost forgot Brooklyn was on my side. Ok, I did forget that Brooklyn was on my side, but in my defense, when I looked that way, all I saw was cars under me and it freaked me out.
The Manhattan side of the bridge starts at City Hall park. Lisa and I took a rest and then were off to find food because I was starving to begin with, add to that my nerves, I was ravenous. And thirsty. SO THIRSTY. We wandered into the Financial District, which pretty much closes when the stock market closes. However, there were a lot more people milling around than I expected. We wound up hydrating at a Duane Reade and then getting on the train headed back to Brooklyn. All in all – something else to check off my bucket list.
Thursday I wanted to clean my room and I was so excited to do it. #adulting It turns out that I didn’t so much clean my room as I moved some things around and watched Kardashian reruns all afternoon. My legs were like jello for most of the day from my adventure the night before. That hill is no joke. Also, it’s my Saturday, after all. I went to dinner with my mom and that was basically it. There’s no photographic evidence but picture the two of us having really delicious salads, al fresco because, summer.
Friday it was back to the city for me and Lisa. We wanted to head to Central Park but we got a late start so we walked passed Lincoln Center and found Lady Gaga’s (parent’s) restaurant on the Upper West Side. It looks adorable and cozy and the menu sounds delicious. I didn’t bring my camera even though it was World Photography Day. I felt a little naked. So, again no photographic evidence, but I’ll leave you with the picture I posted on Instagram last year on World Photography Day.
Get the butter because I’m on a roll! Today I’m here to talk about things that have been getting under my skin as of late. I was thinking that I should probably just start a series of these since I feel like I do them more often than not. Then I realized that I made a whole category dedicated to them already. I’m really not a miserable person, I promise. Anyway, I’m rantin’ and ramblin’ so hop on board!
You know what’s pissing me off?
-humble bragging, insta-bragging (whatever) about being engaged. You know the girl. Maybe you are the girl (in that case, no offense and congratulations!). The one who posts and “innocent” photo of their fresh manicure (!!) or their new coffee mug/smoothie cup (!!). Except their shiny new engagement ring is smack dab in the middle of the photo. like, hey, what’s up, hello. Also except that they’ve been engaged for like ever already. Is there a reason why everything is being held in/done with your left hand? I’m left handed and I don’t use mine as much as an engaged girl on Instagram. Obviously, I give a pass to the girls who just got engaged. Personally, my eyes don’t roll until about the 3-month mark. After that, eyes get rolled and teeth get sucked. All of this being said, prepare yourself for when my time comes because if my 90-year-old, arthritic hands can still hold a phone to take a picture and post it, I’ll be hashtagging and posting the shit out of my left hand. #blessed #luckygirl
-people who treat receptionists like they are public enemy number one. Thanks to my new job, I am quickly learning that about 80% of our client base feel that it is totally OK and normal to treat me and talk to me like I am the stupidest person they have ever come across. Like I am on the same level as the gum on the bottom of their shoe. Like a flea on a rat.
On Monday, the phone WOULD NOT STOP RINGING. I begged, I pleaded, I threw a $20 bill at it. I did everything I could think of, short of ripping it out of the wall, to get a moment’s peace so that I could handle the people in front of me. And yet, even with the shrill ring of the phone sounding every 30 seconds* and the exasperated look on my face, people still found it in their hearts to make me feel like they were the ones who were overwhelmed.
*not an exaggeration
-it’s been hot here in Brooklyn. Actually, not so much hot as it feels like Satan’s living room. It’s between 90 and 100 degrees every day with a humidity of about 5000%. The air conditioner in my room is old. High, Medium, Low knob kind of old. But, it still works well so, no big deal. My friend Slater (ba dum dum) has been showing his age lately by being super noisy. I sleep with my television on so noise usually doesn’t bother me, but it sounds like a rocket launch right next to my head. I guess the alternative is drowning in my own sweat, so I’ll just shut up now. Especially since soon enough it will be winter and I’ll be longing for the days of my screaming air conditioner. The Farmer’s Almanac is saying that this winter is going to be a doozy too so, I’m soaking it all in.
-my love life is abysmal. I know this, my friends and family know this, by now you know this. However, the universe is sending me signs from all over and then not following up. I’m a big believer in signs. Probably so much so that I’ll try to twist anything into meaning something. It’s another one of those quirky things I do that I’m hoping someone will find endearing and love me regardless. Anyway, for the past few weeks, I’ve seen names of boys I’ve liked all over the place, I saw my seventh grade crush on OKCupid (we were a 90% match.. i meaaaannnn…), and I bumped into someone I worked with at the seventh circle of hell. We were talking and catching up a little. I tried my hardest to flirt, which I am usually terrible at but I have to say I was doing holding my own. Without going into too much detail, the reason why he came in was because he had to pick up his paycheck. Payroll had gotten their wires crossed because he now works in a different department. So, I thought I was going to see him again the following week on payday, but when my supervisor went to pick up the checks, she returned his to payroll since she didn’t want the big boss to see it. Not know this was going to happen, I dolled myself up and walked into work like a dark haired Honey Boo Boo. I tried to play it so cool. When my supervisor came in with the checks, I was so excited. I had the breezy Facebook message all planned out. Then I find out that it won’t be necessary. Now I don’t know when I’ll see him again. Don’t mind me- I’m just in the corner, overthinking things, as usual.
I try to be as open as I can be in this, my little space on the internet. I’ve been keeping something from you guys that I’m finally ready to announce. And, no, it’s not some nonsense that I’ve been watching the Kardashians.
i got a(new)nother job!
Yep. So that’s why I’ve been a bit more absent than usual.
There’s so much to tell so let’s get started.
I now work in a veterinarian’s office that is walking distance from my house. Literally 10 minutes, door to door. It’s part time for now so I’m only there three days a week, two of them being Saturday and Sunday. I’m not thrilled with working the whole weekend but I’m crossing my fingers and toes that it will change eventually because, honestly, I don’t want to do it forever.
I started in April; today is my 4 month anniversary, actually. Telling my other job that I would be giving up my weekends and Mondays did not go as planned, which is par for the course in the 7th circle of hell. But, they gave me a small lunch and a dog pendant from Tiffany’s, so it wasn’t such a loss. I’m there a day and a half a week, which is more than enough. If the guy who does the schedule asks though, I’m working at my new job 5 days a week. Believe it or not, I’m getting asked to work now in the 7th circle than I was when it was my only job.At the vet’s office we only service dogs and cats, although we had a turtle stay for a few days last week. As amazing as that sounds, it’s not all puppies and kittens and rainbows. On my first day, someone came in to put their dog down. So.. yea, there’s that. Did you know that when dogs get nervous they tend to pee and poop all over the place? Yep. Welcome to the waiting room. Where I sit. ALL.DAY.LONG. Don’t get me wrong, we clean it up as fast as it comes out, but smells linger. I’ve seen, smelled and heard things that I never thought I’d hear, see or smell at work. But it comes with the (marked) territory, I guess. The worst thing about dogs and cats, though? THEIR OWNERS. Sure, some are fine and understanding and patient. And some are pushy monsters. Listen, I understand that pets are like children. They’re part of the family. I GET IT. But, you have to understand that I have to answer to my boss as to why there are 15 appointment slots and we saw 20 people that day. I hate turning people away but I hate getting in trouble more.
It’s taking a lot of getting used to. The one thing I have to say about working in the seventh circle is that they took their time in training you. Or, at least they did when I started. Here, I’m not really being trained. It’s more like I get told what to do and I’m expected to remember it and do it right every time. That’s going well.
I don’t have traditional co-workers and, to be honest, I really miss that. I’m also working in a predominantly male workplace, which is a total change from the seventh circle. Speaking of men, when I told my boss that I had found a new job and that things were changing, she said to me “This is great, but I’m a little concerned about how you’re going to meet people” So I said,” You mean, to network?” She said “Yeahhh and like SOMEONE. Like, maybe a boyfriend?” (yep. she went there.) I wanted to say to her that in the 11 years I’ve been here, although I’ve found many people attractive/funny/dateable, nothing has ever come about (which is a whole other post about how I don’t take initiative, but I digress). I assured her that I’d be on the lookout, especially since the office is in my neighborhood so you never know who will pop up. Especially people from high school who come in with their spouses and children, or people you hated growing up that you have to pretend to be an adult in front of now.
I’m doing alot of complaining but it’s not all bad. First, puppies and kittens, duh. Second, did I mention it’s walking distance from my house?Third, it’s a stepping stone out of the seventh circle. All I need is for my new boss to tell me he needs me for one more day and peace out 7C. And really, if he doesn’t, and April 2017 starts to rapidly approach, well, there’s not much keeping me there (except the fact that it’s walking distance from my house. i don’t know how i’ll give that up.) Fourth (do I have to keep numbering?), my boss is nice. Lately he seems a bit more agitated, but in general he’s nice and it’s refreshing. Fifth (guess so), although some of the pet parents suck, there are some really cool ones. I appreciate them so much.
I have a feeling this job is going to provide many blog posts so stay tuned!
I am a summer baby and live for the 2-ish months out of the year where I don’t need to wear a jacket or pants that reach my ankles. My goal for the next few weeks (i’m praying for an indian summer), is to soak it all in, as much as I can. I’ve been thinking about what I love most about this flash in the pan season and I thought it would be nice to list some things that get me through the long, cold winter.
not waking up in the dark
not wearing a jacket
the smell of the morning
torrential summer downpours
coming inside from the heat to an air conditioned building
lazy afternoons in the pool
the first shower after the beach/baking in the backyard
mermaid hair (even though my hair constantly ignores my pleas to be mermaid-y)
pizza and vanilla swirl ice cream from L&B
the only time i’ll willingly drink Pepsi
vitamin D – sunshine!
fruit straight from the refrigerator
a perfectly grilled cheeseburger
Italian feasts/street fairs
dining al fresco
laying in bed with the air conditioner blasting
What are your favorite things about summer? What do you think about during the winter to get you through?
I can’t dance. I mean, I can, but I suck. Except when I’m home, alone in my room. Then, I’m JLo.
My best performances come when I’m supposed to be getting ready. For work, for play – doesn’t really matter. As long as I have music and a makeup brush microphone, I am invincible.
When we were little, Lisa and I used to pretend we were Mariah Carey in my living room. One side of my couch was Italy, where Lisa used to perform. The other side was France, where I put on my show, complete with a jaunty beret. We would each grab a remote control, crank up Dreamlover, and sing our little hearts out.
That was the mid-90’s, when apps were things that we talked our parents into ordering at TGIFriday’s. Now, instead of potato skins, we can share music. The people over at Airtime* introduced me to their app, with the app Lisa and I don’t even need to put on pants or leave our respective houses to live out out Mariah Carey tour fantasies, or Fantasy tour. *The nice people at Airtime contacted me and asked me to write this post, but I am not getting paid to mention them.
Since Friendship Day is this week, and my friends and I all have such different music tastes, I have asked Lisa, Nicole and Jessica what songs keep them moving. What do they sing into their hairbrushes when they’re supposed to be getting ready? Here’s what we came up with.
Ok, so you can’t necessarily dance to this, but it makes me feel so bad ass.
When I asked them for their input, I got so many answers, I put together a Spotify playlist. Enjoy!
I’m probably missing tons and I’ll probably hear about it later, but for now, Happy Friendship Day to my three whack jobs.
What are some songs that keep you and your friends moving? I’m always looking for new tunes!