There have been many developments in the past few days. AV’s hair has been three different shades of boxed color; there was the much-anticipated finale of ‘Gossip Girl’ as well as the much-anticipated return of ‘The Bachelorette’, and a bag of dark chocolate M&M’s thrown in for good measure.
Let’s start with the hair. Good hair is hard/expensive to come-by these days. We all remember KR and her great bangs debacle of December. I finally broke down myself and went to a get a proper haircut on Saturday afternoon. There’s probably nothing more relaxing than having someone massaging your skull and blowing our your hair to voluminous perfection. It must be awesome to be Jessica Simpson.
Sunday morning I went to church then called AV and KR to see what they were up to- which was running errands at the drug store. I didn’t think much of it until I got home and found them squirreling around with a box of hair color called ‘Soft Black’. AV had decided, spur of the moment to dye her hair darker.
No stranger to the art of the at-home dye job, and removed enough from the past traumas associated with it, she went ahead with it. As promised, it turned black. The only thing about black is that once it’s on your head, it’s not that soft-looking. KR and I amused ourselves by saying that everything she did was “so Raven” and singing the first few notes of ‘The Addams Family’ for about 24 hours.
Moral support- what else are friends for?
She called her friend LO in Las Vegas, who knows a thing or two about hair, and she told her about a paste-like hair-stripping product to get to remove the fake color. So Monday night, in the midst of the TV shows and all the drama of Lily and Bart's wedding on 'Gossip Girl', AV’s hair got stripped. After washing it out, she concluded that it looked more like a calico cat than it had before. It stripped the black, but it was also reminiscent of an eighth grade run-in with Sun-In. (We all experimented with it, roughly around the same time boys our age were wearing pooka-shell necklaces and Abercrombie cologne).
We took a round three stab at AV’s hair with a concoction that was a play-doe shade of purple in the bottle. Should have been a red flag. I painted her head once again as DeAnna, the new Bachelorette made awkward introduction after painful hello with her house full of bachelors. She employed a forced, double-hug maneuver that was particularly hard to watch. She didn’t know what to do, and kept hugging everyone repeatedly. Judging by the fact that there were no fewer than an oyster farmer, a marshal arts instructor, a chef, a professional basketball player, a dad and a high school football coach sipping cocktails and pulling stunts to get attention, it’s looking like a solid season.
After ‘The Bachelorette’ narrowed the field down to 15, AV washed her hair once again. The purple bottle so liberally applied to her hair manifested itself as a deep red. Red. That was three strikes for the at-home hair color.
AV disappeared into the hands of the professionals tonight at Aveda and returned a new woman- complete with new and evenly colored dark brown hair.
We can laugh about it now because her hair is back to normal.
I’m still calling her “Raven”.
“Hair is the richest ornament of women.”
-Martin Luther
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Trivial Pursuits
My generation is dealing with a lot of confusion these days.
KR, AV and I were watching a classic 60's beach movie the other night called Shag (think of how Gidget would have played out if she had friends) and dreaming of how great life would have been in a different decade. I then compiled this random list of great questions troubling 23-year-olds everywhere:
Political Correctness: Is she supposed to be called a "stewardess" or a "flight attendant"; a "secretary" or an "assistant"?
Nutrition: What should I believe about carbs? Good for you, bad for you, irresistable? And let's talk about "gourmet" food for that matter: at what point did it divert away from delicious, well-made dishes to just becoming strange and hideous food combinations at ridiculous prices? No, I don't want to eat marrow and liver or other irrelevant animal organs- or else just hide them in a hot dog and I'll never know the difference.
Love & Marriage: There is no such thing as dating anymore. The majority of my friends fall into one of two categories: serious relationships on the fast-track to marriage and serial singletons. The transition/middle ground between these two could be likened to the bridge Prince Phillip had to cross on his way to save Princess Aurora in Sleeping Beauty*; treacherous and unsteady with a fire-breathing dragon looming overhead. Impossible? You tell me.
The Solar System: Why isn't Pluto good enough to be a planet anymore?
Economics: Gas prices are more than twice what they were when I started driving... seven years ago. Not exactly a significant amount of time considering cars have been around for about 200 years.
Pop Culture: Is anyone else concerned about the weird names** celebrities are giving their children these days? Suri, Shiloh, Kingston, Romeo, Cruz, Harlow, Phineus, Maximus, Pax. The game of Red Rover that they will inevitably play together when they all start pre-school in Hollywood will clearly be divided along lines of kids with the names of Disney heroines and those named after Roman soldiers.
Justice: If American Idol was not completely rigged, then Michael Johns would still be around. Anyone who saw David Archuleta singing Chris Brown's "With You" could not say differently, because that was about the most dysfuntional performance I have ever seen on the show with the top three left in contention. He could totally rock a cameo on High School Musical, but I could also see him going the way of Clay Aiken in Spamalot. It's 50/50 at this point- he's still a teenager which is a huge liability considering he is also male.
Like I said- there are just so many things keeping a girl up at night.
Any time we think we were born in the wrong decade, I try to remind myself what life would look like for women everywhere if there were no CHIs. I can handle rising gas prices, but frizzy hair? There is no room for frizzy hair in modern-day society.
"Well don't play hard to get, you might miss something."
-Buzz Ravenal, Shag
*KR was consulted for confirmation of the bridge scene in Sleeping Beauty. She has never seen it, but confirmed nonetheless.
**KR was also consulted for the names of celebrity children, which she was able to recite on cue.
KR, AV and I were watching a classic 60's beach movie the other night called Shag (think of how Gidget would have played out if she had friends) and dreaming of how great life would have been in a different decade. I then compiled this random list of great questions troubling 23-year-olds everywhere:
Political Correctness: Is she supposed to be called a "stewardess" or a "flight attendant"; a "secretary" or an "assistant"?
Nutrition: What should I believe about carbs? Good for you, bad for you, irresistable? And let's talk about "gourmet" food for that matter: at what point did it divert away from delicious, well-made dishes to just becoming strange and hideous food combinations at ridiculous prices? No, I don't want to eat marrow and liver or other irrelevant animal organs- or else just hide them in a hot dog and I'll never know the difference.
Love & Marriage: There is no such thing as dating anymore. The majority of my friends fall into one of two categories: serious relationships on the fast-track to marriage and serial singletons. The transition/middle ground between these two could be likened to the bridge Prince Phillip had to cross on his way to save Princess Aurora in Sleeping Beauty*; treacherous and unsteady with a fire-breathing dragon looming overhead. Impossible? You tell me.
The Solar System: Why isn't Pluto good enough to be a planet anymore?
Economics: Gas prices are more than twice what they were when I started driving... seven years ago. Not exactly a significant amount of time considering cars have been around for about 200 years.
Pop Culture: Is anyone else concerned about the weird names** celebrities are giving their children these days? Suri, Shiloh, Kingston, Romeo, Cruz, Harlow, Phineus, Maximus, Pax. The game of Red Rover that they will inevitably play together when they all start pre-school in Hollywood will clearly be divided along lines of kids with the names of Disney heroines and those named after Roman soldiers.
Justice: If American Idol was not completely rigged, then Michael Johns would still be around. Anyone who saw David Archuleta singing Chris Brown's "With You" could not say differently, because that was about the most dysfuntional performance I have ever seen on the show with the top three left in contention. He could totally rock a cameo on High School Musical, but I could also see him going the way of Clay Aiken in Spamalot. It's 50/50 at this point- he's still a teenager which is a huge liability considering he is also male.
Like I said- there are just so many things keeping a girl up at night.
Any time we think we were born in the wrong decade, I try to remind myself what life would look like for women everywhere if there were no CHIs. I can handle rising gas prices, but frizzy hair? There is no room for frizzy hair in modern-day society.
"Well don't play hard to get, you might miss something."
-Buzz Ravenal, Shag
*KR was consulted for confirmation of the bridge scene in Sleeping Beauty. She has never seen it, but confirmed nonetheless.
**KR was also consulted for the names of celebrity children, which she was able to recite on cue.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
I must be losing my touch
When we first moved into our apartment, KR was notorious for losing things.
One night in October we had friends in town, were walking out the door to see a show on a Saturday night and she realized she didn’t have her wallet. Panicked that she had left it at a work event that day, or that it had possibly been stolen, she cancelled everything and was inconvenienced for days until her mother received a call from a cab driver the next week, telling her he had found the wallet of a Ms. KR in his cab. I don’t know what kind of experiences others have had with their NYC cab drivers, but I’m fairly confident not all would return a wallet, contents intact.
Later on it was her Aggie ring- something every student at A&M carefully counts their credit hours to get and which some Aggies wear their entire lives- that went missing. We turned her closet upside-down looking through shoes and scanning the floor, only for KR to find it days later in the pocket of pants she had worn a few days prior.
For my part, I found my debit and Metro cards to be missing last fall after roaming around Central Park for an entire morning in the fall, which were never recovered. Another morning I was in a frenzy trying to get out the door for a job interview and could not find my keys, so I automatically assumed KR or AV had taken my pair and then had to meet up with KR later in the day and then return to the apartment, only to find my keys under a magazine on my bed.
When living with our friend MK back in the fall, I misplaced an envelope full of cash for a solid two weeks when we moved there. I only found it when I was looking for the charger to my new camera before leaving for a wedding weekend and saw it sitting in the box that my camera had been packaged in.
Last Thursday night I was out with coworker friends and had kept my phone in the pocket of my jacket to periodically check the time. When I got in a cab, I reached into my pocket for my phone again and did not find it there. In typical fashion I freaked out, asked the driver to pull around and bolted from the cab in search of my phone. Problem #1 was that I was in the Meatpacking District and it was midnight and people were everywhere, Problem #2 was that I was wearing heels that night, and the streets in that part of town are cobblestone, allowing for many falling opportunities.
I gave up my search and returned to the cab, moved my bag and trench over, and there was my phone. All of that running in heels for nothing… and I’m sure it was less glamorous and more melodramatic than I envisioned at the time.
AV, on the other hand, always knows where to find things. This is why she is in charge of rent, bills and Netflix. The important things, really, because we all know how quickly this party would disband if she put “Juno” on the queue before “27 Dresses”… I don’t even have to say it, but heads would roll.
"In view of the fact that God limited the intelligence of man, it seems unfair that he did not also limit his stupidity."
-Konrad Adenauer
One night in October we had friends in town, were walking out the door to see a show on a Saturday night and she realized she didn’t have her wallet. Panicked that she had left it at a work event that day, or that it had possibly been stolen, she cancelled everything and was inconvenienced for days until her mother received a call from a cab driver the next week, telling her he had found the wallet of a Ms. KR in his cab. I don’t know what kind of experiences others have had with their NYC cab drivers, but I’m fairly confident not all would return a wallet, contents intact.
Later on it was her Aggie ring- something every student at A&M carefully counts their credit hours to get and which some Aggies wear their entire lives- that went missing. We turned her closet upside-down looking through shoes and scanning the floor, only for KR to find it days later in the pocket of pants she had worn a few days prior.
For my part, I found my debit and Metro cards to be missing last fall after roaming around Central Park for an entire morning in the fall, which were never recovered. Another morning I was in a frenzy trying to get out the door for a job interview and could not find my keys, so I automatically assumed KR or AV had taken my pair and then had to meet up with KR later in the day and then return to the apartment, only to find my keys under a magazine on my bed.
When living with our friend MK back in the fall, I misplaced an envelope full of cash for a solid two weeks when we moved there. I only found it when I was looking for the charger to my new camera before leaving for a wedding weekend and saw it sitting in the box that my camera had been packaged in.
Last Thursday night I was out with coworker friends and had kept my phone in the pocket of my jacket to periodically check the time. When I got in a cab, I reached into my pocket for my phone again and did not find it there. In typical fashion I freaked out, asked the driver to pull around and bolted from the cab in search of my phone. Problem #1 was that I was in the Meatpacking District and it was midnight and people were everywhere, Problem #2 was that I was wearing heels that night, and the streets in that part of town are cobblestone, allowing for many falling opportunities.
I gave up my search and returned to the cab, moved my bag and trench over, and there was my phone. All of that running in heels for nothing… and I’m sure it was less glamorous and more melodramatic than I envisioned at the time.
AV, on the other hand, always knows where to find things. This is why she is in charge of rent, bills and Netflix. The important things, really, because we all know how quickly this party would disband if she put “Juno” on the queue before “27 Dresses”… I don’t even have to say it, but heads would roll.
"In view of the fact that God limited the intelligence of man, it seems unfair that he did not also limit his stupidity."
-Konrad Adenauer
Thursday, May 8, 2008
By George
For years in college I had a picture of a man in a suit, giving his signature look to the woman in his arms that I had taken from a magazine and taped to the refridgerator I shared with my house of four girls. At the bottom of the picture I taped a notecard that read: "male perfection -AH".
The man in the picture was George Clooney, and yesterday was basically one of the best days of my life.
At 10am yesterday morning, one of my assistant friends, LM, ran over to my side of the office and said "George Clooney is downstairs- let's go!" As if on cue, the female assistants all abandoned our desks and bolted for the elevators. We had experienced a false alarm on Tuesday; there was an event in my building for a prominent fashion designer and George Clooney's girlfriend Sarah was in attendance... but not George himself.
You would have thought there was a fire drill taking place, that's how many women were in the massive foyer in my building. He was there this time, in all his beautiful glory.
I have not seen many celebrities since moving to New York, but regardless of how many I see while I live here and who they are, I'm certain that all will pale in comparison to GC. He is the textbook definition of handsome; a word that is now so rarely used and somehow fits him perfectly.
He's better-looking in person than on-screen. As evidenced by yesterday's crowd, he appeals to women of all ages, and this was no shopping mall, mind you, this is a place of business full of college-educated people.
And yet there we were, shamelessly trying not to blink and watching his every move. Luckily KR had the foresight to have her camera in her purse, and took plenty of pictures for evidence.
If age is just a number, then I'd say 47 looks good on George.
"He had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself."
-F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
The man in the picture was George Clooney, and yesterday was basically one of the best days of my life.
At 10am yesterday morning, one of my assistant friends, LM, ran over to my side of the office and said "George Clooney is downstairs- let's go!" As if on cue, the female assistants all abandoned our desks and bolted for the elevators. We had experienced a false alarm on Tuesday; there was an event in my building for a prominent fashion designer and George Clooney's girlfriend Sarah was in attendance... but not George himself.
You would have thought there was a fire drill taking place, that's how many women were in the massive foyer in my building. He was there this time, in all his beautiful glory.
I have not seen many celebrities since moving to New York, but regardless of how many I see while I live here and who they are, I'm certain that all will pale in comparison to GC. He is the textbook definition of handsome; a word that is now so rarely used and somehow fits him perfectly.
He's better-looking in person than on-screen. As evidenced by yesterday's crowd, he appeals to women of all ages, and this was no shopping mall, mind you, this is a place of business full of college-educated people.
And yet there we were, shamelessly trying not to blink and watching his every move. Luckily KR had the foresight to have her camera in her purse, and took plenty of pictures for evidence.
If age is just a number, then I'd say 47 looks good on George.
"He had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself."
-F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Weekend Travels- Providence
November, is that you?
Newport, RI
The Breakers
For the first in what will undoubtedly be many weekend trips touring New England, we went to Rhode Island. More specifically, we went to Providence to see our friend KJ.
After chaos and confusion at the Port Authority on Friday evening, we found the bus terminal where we were to depart from, and determined in our search that there are in fact, as many bus terminals in the Port Authority as there are days in the year. We found out that you get what you pay for, and a $37 roundtrip ticket will buy more than you might have guessed, which was mostly an earful from Mr. Talks-Too-Loud-On-His-Phone-To-His-Mother Guy and sheer amazement at the guy sitting in front of KR and AV who drank an entire two-liter of Sunkist and never had to use the restroom.
KJ picked us up in Providence and gave us a car-tour of the city before taking us home for wine and popcorn. We got to catch up and see her apartment and went to bed since it was Friday and we were all exhausted from the work week.
We woke up and made the bad decision to forego showers until later in the day (bad because bedhead is only inexcusable for a certain number of hours, especially in damp weather), and KJ took us to a bakery for breakfast. We drove to Narragansett and stopped by KJ's family's beach house to say hello to her parents on the way to Newport for the afternoon. KJ's parents had just gotten in town from Texas to get the house ready for the summer, so we hung around for awhile, then got on the road again.
The beauty of the state of Rhode Island is that you can drive 15-30 minutes and basically be anywhere in the state. I've driven through El Paso ONCE in my life on a roadtrip from Dallas to Arizona and swore I would never do it again because it was just that boring. Rhode Island on the other hand... the highways aren't crowded, trees everywhere, everything is close by, you can still go to the ocean and be back by dinner time. Kind of ideal. They even have Diet Dr. Pepper, if you are visiting KJ's parents, which is always a selling point.
We toured the Breakers mansion on the beach in Newport, which is a scenic beach town and reminded me of an older, more refined and Northeastern version of Seaside, Florida. I visited Newport for the first time with KJ five summers ago, and was convinced if I ever felt inclined to have an outdoor or destination wedding, I would have to get in good with the preservation society in Newport. Jackie Kennedy pulled it off- surely I could too.
KJ and her roommates had a Cinco de Mayo party Saturday night, and we got to meet a few of her friends and her boyfriend. Sunday we went to her favorite brunch place after dodging marathon traffic, took a driving tour of Providence during daylight that included an impromptu open house tour and a trip to the Providence Place mall. Oh the days of the indoor mall and the air-conditioned car, how we miss you.
All in all it was a great trip, and we already invited ourselves back for a weekend this summer.
Newport, RI
The Breakers
For the first in what will undoubtedly be many weekend trips touring New England, we went to Rhode Island. More specifically, we went to Providence to see our friend KJ.
After chaos and confusion at the Port Authority on Friday evening, we found the bus terminal where we were to depart from, and determined in our search that there are in fact, as many bus terminals in the Port Authority as there are days in the year. We found out that you get what you pay for, and a $37 roundtrip ticket will buy more than you might have guessed, which was mostly an earful from Mr. Talks-Too-Loud-On-His-Phone-To-His-Mother Guy and sheer amazement at the guy sitting in front of KR and AV who drank an entire two-liter of Sunkist and never had to use the restroom.
KJ picked us up in Providence and gave us a car-tour of the city before taking us home for wine and popcorn. We got to catch up and see her apartment and went to bed since it was Friday and we were all exhausted from the work week.
We woke up and made the bad decision to forego showers until later in the day (bad because bedhead is only inexcusable for a certain number of hours, especially in damp weather), and KJ took us to a bakery for breakfast. We drove to Narragansett and stopped by KJ's family's beach house to say hello to her parents on the way to Newport for the afternoon. KJ's parents had just gotten in town from Texas to get the house ready for the summer, so we hung around for awhile, then got on the road again.
The beauty of the state of Rhode Island is that you can drive 15-30 minutes and basically be anywhere in the state. I've driven through El Paso ONCE in my life on a roadtrip from Dallas to Arizona and swore I would never do it again because it was just that boring. Rhode Island on the other hand... the highways aren't crowded, trees everywhere, everything is close by, you can still go to the ocean and be back by dinner time. Kind of ideal. They even have Diet Dr. Pepper, if you are visiting KJ's parents, which is always a selling point.
We toured the Breakers mansion on the beach in Newport, which is a scenic beach town and reminded me of an older, more refined and Northeastern version of Seaside, Florida. I visited Newport for the first time with KJ five summers ago, and was convinced if I ever felt inclined to have an outdoor or destination wedding, I would have to get in good with the preservation society in Newport. Jackie Kennedy pulled it off- surely I could too.
KJ and her roommates had a Cinco de Mayo party Saturday night, and we got to meet a few of her friends and her boyfriend. Sunday we went to her favorite brunch place after dodging marathon traffic, took a driving tour of Providence during daylight that included an impromptu open house tour and a trip to the Providence Place mall. Oh the days of the indoor mall and the air-conditioned car, how we miss you.
All in all it was a great trip, and we already invited ourselves back for a weekend this summer.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Pulling Teeth
To say I have anxiety about going to my new dentist later today would be a vast understatement.
Horrified would be more like it.
If I did not have a molar with a dull ache right now, I would hold out until June when I will be returning to Texas for a long weekend.
Like many people, or not so many people, I am a creature of habit. I exercise at the same time on the same days, I get cash from the same ATM, go to the same grocery store, I walk the exact same way path to and from work, I'm a stickler for timing and I am fiercely brand-loyal. I also like my doctors, but the problem is that they're all in Texas.
Some of my most frequently-visited doctors: my dentist, optometrist and orthodontist, are all trusted family friends. My dentist, however, holds the particular distinction of being the only dentist I have ever been to, period.
People scraping and poking around mirrors in my mouth is basically like torture for me. It is, for me, to the mouth what nails on a chalkboard are to the ears. I will do any and everything I can to maintain the cleanliness of my teeth between visits because it is worth it to me to minimize time in The Chair. I brush twice a day, I floss regularly, I keep order... not to mention the fact that it is my right as an American to be vain about my teeth.
Adding to my stress is the fact that I will be using my employer's insurance (MINE- not my Dad's, MINE) and have not attempted to use it before now.
The idea of someone other than my trusted dentist of the past 23 years looking around in my mouth with tools sends shivers down my spine. I'm already nauseous.
I've been told these are the same symptoms of falling in love, which sounds hideous if you ask me.
"We all basically go back to being children when we're in a dentist chair."
-Arthur Benjamin
Horrified would be more like it.
If I did not have a molar with a dull ache right now, I would hold out until June when I will be returning to Texas for a long weekend.
Like many people, or not so many people, I am a creature of habit. I exercise at the same time on the same days, I get cash from the same ATM, go to the same grocery store, I walk the exact same way path to and from work, I'm a stickler for timing and I am fiercely brand-loyal. I also like my doctors, but the problem is that they're all in Texas.
Some of my most frequently-visited doctors: my dentist, optometrist and orthodontist, are all trusted family friends. My dentist, however, holds the particular distinction of being the only dentist I have ever been to, period.
People scraping and poking around mirrors in my mouth is basically like torture for me. It is, for me, to the mouth what nails on a chalkboard are to the ears. I will do any and everything I can to maintain the cleanliness of my teeth between visits because it is worth it to me to minimize time in The Chair. I brush twice a day, I floss regularly, I keep order... not to mention the fact that it is my right as an American to be vain about my teeth.
Adding to my stress is the fact that I will be using my employer's insurance (MINE- not my Dad's, MINE) and have not attempted to use it before now.
The idea of someone other than my trusted dentist of the past 23 years looking around in my mouth with tools sends shivers down my spine. I'm already nauseous.
I've been told these are the same symptoms of falling in love, which sounds hideous if you ask me.
"We all basically go back to being children when we're in a dentist chair."
-Arthur Benjamin
Friday, May 2, 2008
Thank goodness yesterday was Thursday
Thursdays are one of my top three favorite days of the week.
In college, Thursday meant the end of the school week, for all practical purposes. As many semesters as scheduling permitted, I had no Friday classes at all, making Thursdays all the more satisfying.
In the real world, and specifically in our apartment, Thursday is the elected day of relief. Relief because another week of work is almost over, weekend plans are in the works, because Friday is tomorrow and because most importantly, it is pizza night. Work is always manageable on the fourth weekday, and there's so much great DVR'ed TV to go home to.
Yesterday I went to the gym after work (it is May/swimsuit season, after all), dropped off my things at home and went to get a manicure and pedicure. Not a weekly indulgence, but every time I get my nails done I can't help but think "I should do this more often". It's a quick and fairly inexpensive way to simultaneously relax, get your feet massaged and leave more put-together than you came in. Totally brill.
While sitting in the window at the salon, hands and feet drying under fans, I couldn't help but notice an alarming trend. Directly across the street from the nail place was a Crocs store. That's right- an entire store devoted to hideous footwear (unless of course you are four years old and everything you wear is cute). Inside the Crocs store, I counted no less than a dozen patrons browsing the neon selection. I also had to wonder at the fact that enough people buy them as to substantiate an entire store, in Manhattan no less.
No offense if you own any- I never got on the Choco's bandwagon either. I remember going to work at a camp after my freshman year of college and thinking everyone was crazy for paying upwards of $75-$100 for those things. Guys wearing sandals is always a little tricky in general, but I even openly questioned the girls who sported them. There is no reason that "practical" should have to mean "ugly".
Anyway, back to the greatness that is Thursday.
I left the salon, which is always a tricky maneuver because when you get your nails done you touch everything and walk like you're investigating a crime scene. To add to the dysfunction, it had dropped about 15 degrees and was raining when I walked outside again. To paint a picture: 50 degrees, dark, raining, Nike shorts, long-sleeved t-shirt, toe separators, flip-flops, umbrella in one hand, cell in the other.
I called AV, who was at the post office, and we met up to get pizza, which was conveniently right across the street, which is also right by our place. Done and done.
Pizza in hand (white pizza being my personal preference, regular cheese for the girls), we made it back inside at 8 PM to settle in and watch... nothing. Eastern Standard Time translates to: The Office and Grey's Anatomy both don't start until 9 PM. 9 PM! I know, that's so long to wait. We usually try to clean up a little and in the case of last night, pack, but to no avail.
As far as planning our weekend, we've already had our plans for this weekend in the works for some time now. The proximity of New England cities to one another make weekend trips inexpensive and easy to plan, which is something we have not taken advantage of until today.
This evening we leave on a Greyhound that's Rhode Island- bound to see our friend KJ, who lives in Providence. I, for one, have not been to Providence since the summer before college started, when I went with KJ to see her college campus while visiting her family at their beach house. I also recall buying a cute orange sweater set at the Gap in the Providence mall that trip, as well as legitimately fainting* in the home of one of their close family friends one morning in Connecticut the day of my first visit to New York. It also rained that day.
Great memories.
I'm told that you've never really celebrated Cinco de Mayo until you have spent it in Rhode Island... I for one, am just amazed by the sheer fact that it's May and I'm still wearing a coat.
*Another story for another time
"To the European, a Yankee is an American.
To an American, a Yankee is a New Englander..."
-Old Yankee joke
In college, Thursday meant the end of the school week, for all practical purposes. As many semesters as scheduling permitted, I had no Friday classes at all, making Thursdays all the more satisfying.
In the real world, and specifically in our apartment, Thursday is the elected day of relief. Relief because another week of work is almost over, weekend plans are in the works, because Friday is tomorrow and because most importantly, it is pizza night. Work is always manageable on the fourth weekday, and there's so much great DVR'ed TV to go home to.
Yesterday I went to the gym after work (it is May/swimsuit season, after all), dropped off my things at home and went to get a manicure and pedicure. Not a weekly indulgence, but every time I get my nails done I can't help but think "I should do this more often". It's a quick and fairly inexpensive way to simultaneously relax, get your feet massaged and leave more put-together than you came in. Totally brill.
While sitting in the window at the salon, hands and feet drying under fans, I couldn't help but notice an alarming trend. Directly across the street from the nail place was a Crocs store. That's right- an entire store devoted to hideous footwear (unless of course you are four years old and everything you wear is cute). Inside the Crocs store, I counted no less than a dozen patrons browsing the neon selection. I also had to wonder at the fact that enough people buy them as to substantiate an entire store, in Manhattan no less.
No offense if you own any- I never got on the Choco's bandwagon either. I remember going to work at a camp after my freshman year of college and thinking everyone was crazy for paying upwards of $75-$100 for those things. Guys wearing sandals is always a little tricky in general, but I even openly questioned the girls who sported them. There is no reason that "practical" should have to mean "ugly".
Anyway, back to the greatness that is Thursday.
I left the salon, which is always a tricky maneuver because when you get your nails done you touch everything and walk like you're investigating a crime scene. To add to the dysfunction, it had dropped about 15 degrees and was raining when I walked outside again. To paint a picture: 50 degrees, dark, raining, Nike shorts, long-sleeved t-shirt, toe separators, flip-flops, umbrella in one hand, cell in the other.
I called AV, who was at the post office, and we met up to get pizza, which was conveniently right across the street, which is also right by our place. Done and done.
Pizza in hand (white pizza being my personal preference, regular cheese for the girls), we made it back inside at 8 PM to settle in and watch... nothing. Eastern Standard Time translates to: The Office and Grey's Anatomy both don't start until 9 PM. 9 PM! I know, that's so long to wait. We usually try to clean up a little and in the case of last night, pack, but to no avail.
As far as planning our weekend, we've already had our plans for this weekend in the works for some time now. The proximity of New England cities to one another make weekend trips inexpensive and easy to plan, which is something we have not taken advantage of until today.
This evening we leave on a Greyhound that's Rhode Island- bound to see our friend KJ, who lives in Providence. I, for one, have not been to Providence since the summer before college started, when I went with KJ to see her college campus while visiting her family at their beach house. I also recall buying a cute orange sweater set at the Gap in the Providence mall that trip, as well as legitimately fainting* in the home of one of their close family friends one morning in Connecticut the day of my first visit to New York. It also rained that day.
Great memories.
I'm told that you've never really celebrated Cinco de Mayo until you have spent it in Rhode Island... I for one, am just amazed by the sheer fact that it's May and I'm still wearing a coat.
*Another story for another time
"To the European, a Yankee is an American.
To an American, a Yankee is a New Englander..."
-Old Yankee joke
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