Happy New Years, you dorks!

In a few hours you are probably about to embark on the most overhyped open bar you've ever spent $75 on, but you know what, get it. It was probably a shitty year for you, in which case, flirt with that bartender and wear a see-through belly shirt.
Dance to a culturally insensitive pop song and check your phone for updates on Kimye's baby AND Hilary Clinton's health. Both are important.

Roommate's beautiful apartment decorations!
But as shitty or awesome as things were this past year, they can always get more shitty or more awesome in 2013.

I have one piece of advice/suggestion going into this unlucky year, and that is to stop 'playing it cool.'

Stop playing it cool. I know it's cliche to say, but life is short, and isn't measured in instagram filters or like all-fucking-natural cigarette butts or the length of your ombre. Be bold and poignant with your thoughts and feelings. Try to surround yourself with people who are interested in your ideas. Question your use of irony. Don't be afraid to dig into ugly things.

Like last year, I hope you kiss a bunch of people, remove toxic people from your life (after kissing them a whole bunch), have a few nights in eating plain pasta from a mixing bowl while watching Pawn Stars, and maybe get a new exciting haircut or something.

For myself, I'm hoping to have a few more reasons to shave my legs!

Dream big, love big, eat a big sandwich! 2013! Rah rah rah!


Guitar Hero

So sometimes you have a crush on a boy. And he is cute and interesting and reads good books and maybe has a favorite sports team that you'll check online to see if they are winning their sports game from time to time. And then maybe he also is a musician, but actually just owns a guitar.

And there isn't anything wrong with that. In fact, it might be a little sexy. He has an artistic side, a sensitive side, or maybe he just is a Glam Rocker from the eighties at heart and you know what, you can still have a crush on him.

But there is something that happens and it needs to stop. And this is a PSA for the following situation because it is weird, and strange, and I don't want to deal with it anymore.

So you are on a couch, or maybe his ~*bed*~ and you guys are chatting or maybe just ~*staring weirdly into one another's eyes*~ and he picks up his guitar. You all are still chatting but then slowly and very subtly he is playing all the scales on his guitar and his responses to your conversation turn into "yah, uh huh" "yah, uh huh" and THEN before you know it you guys aren't talking and you are just watching this dude jam out on an acoustic guitar in silence.

Boys, men, ladies who are also guilty of it, please stop. Or at least place a little disclaimer before you go all Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock (wo0o0oo0o) on the person you are wooing. You can simply say, "Baby, listen to me play" or "Hush, words will only ruin this tension."



Fab Friend Friday! Julia Maeve!

Let's all pretend that I've been maintaining this blog superbly and that it hasn't been a full year since "Fab Friend Friday!"

This week's Fab Friend is Julia Maeve. Julia and I went to Bryn Mawr together, I stayed with her when she lived in Paris, and the two of us occupied a lil nook in a vegan mansion our senior year.

She hails from Boston and her mother has the most enthralling Boston accent I've ever heard When I first heard her mother speak, I thought she was pulling my leg. But she is 100% authentic in her Bostonian tongue. It's super cool.

Casually Stunning.
I think Julia is fabulous because she is one of the kindest people I know. Her ability to hone in on detail and still appreciate the big picture is comforting, impressive, and motivating. She is a talented artist, singer, and cook. I love when Julia gets really angry about things because she'll usually stomp her foot and point a finger in the air. I mean, I wish things didn't anger her, but I love how emphatic she is about it! OH wait, also once Julia kicked me in the face in front of 400 people and it was really really funny and didn't hurt that much.

Enjoy my mini interview with Julia!

How did we meet?

Kady and I started at Bryn Mawr the same year and had an uNuSuAl connection:  A good friend of mine from home was the roommate of a good friend of Kady's (from her home) at Barnard.  So I kind of had my eye out for her and I remember the exact first time we met!  Kady was working in the dining hall and I was having lunch with my friend Addie who was quickly also become a friend of Kady's.  Thus, she stopped by to say hi, I was like zomggg weird connection, or something like that, and the rest is history.  But actually (this is weird, sorry KD) I have this really vivid memory of a few days later spotting Kady waiting for the bus, by herself, and I remember what she was wearing and I thought she was too cool for me.  Lil red cardigan (she still wears it) and this blue dress (also still wears) and big ol' head phones.  Kween of my heart.

What do you do?

In thirteen days I start a job I am super excited about.  I'm going to be the assistant to the curator at a very cool museum in Boston (it shall remain unnamed) and I have a feeling it is going to be the non-evil version of The Devil Wears Prada + assisting on exhibitions, which is cray cray amazing to me.  I hope it meets my expections!  

What do you love doing?

I get a lot of satisfaction from taking the train (in all seriousness) and doing crosswords, but also I really love to silkscreen and I'm pretty bummed that I haven't done any recently.  I am hoping that once I get my little dream apartment set up I shall have a silkscreening table.  It will be the best. 

Learning to Love Cats.
Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Graduate School.  For better or for worse.  I'm not sure where I see myself geographically, that is a mystery of the future!

What about 35 years?

35 years.  So that means I will be 57!  Holy Cow!  I guess I hope I won't be alone, I don't think I want to be alone.  Alive would be great, too!  And happy.  Maybe I'll be a curator or an art teacher.  Cute lil home somewhere that is painted yellow and has really creative shelf-ing and a hammock in the backyard and music coming out of the windows.

And WHO is your favorite fab lady?
Nina Simone!  She was such a fabulous musician and entertainer, civil rights-lady.  She was super volatile and a little crazy, but I think that she was amazing.  Such good outfits.  And I love how she moved to France, too.  Oh, Nina, bless your soul.


Grocery Slore

Cute little Kitchen!
So I've moved up to NYC in an adorable neighborhood on the Upper West Side called Manhattan Valley, which sounds much more idyllic than it ought to. It's been exactly one week and I've gotten lost in Central Park twice, had a weirdo follow me from train car to train car on the subway, and eaten two cannoli.

This morning I went big girl grocery shopping for the first time. Now, I've gone grocery shopping a lot. But I used to live in a thirteen-girl vegan local foods co-op where I was cooking meals for 20+ people. I've gone grocery shopping for breakfast and lunch stuff my whole life. But all of a sudden I'm grocery shopping for just me, for all of the food I'll ever need to satiate my little tummy.

The first mistake I made was googling "Grocery Shopping for One." Never do that. You want to kill yourself. You end up on blogs titled, like, "Single and Ambitious WomYn" or "D-vorced and D-lighted." Basically, a lot of blogs that make you shout back at your computer "No! No! I'm a funky, fun individual that isn't destined to live with cats and seek out free Central Park events for the rest of her life."

Once I got into the grocery store, there was the dilemma of the cart versus the hand basket. The cart provides more space and easy management but suggests you are shopping for a family, possibly a significant other. A cart shouldn't be filled with Lean Cuisine ~Singlez~ Meals. So I went with the hand basket and immediately regretted it once I filled it with three onions and it got super heavy. I also regretted picking up three onions, but I'm still not sure of produce touching and returning etiquette. (This is why I purchased three onions, two green squash, and a single potato.)

I tried to buy meat, but it was so overwhelming I bought a pack of tofu that was also advertising Madagascar the movie. I might go see the movie to fulfill the bizarre advertising.

Everything else went along pretty smoothly. I ate too many cheese samples and got a little sluggish toward the end. The thing that got me the most, however, was buying butter. I just wanted a stick of butter to have for pasta, eggs, breads, WHATEVER. But you can't just buy a single stick of butter you have to buy a pack of four sticks of butter. Now, if I were shopping for my family, I'd be like "Hecky yeah! Load 'er up." But I wasn't. I was shopping for just me and all of a sudden I'm committing to four sticks of butter and a lifetime of diabetic ailments. Or heart attacks. But I surely wouldn't eat all that butter at once. Or in like a month. Unless, I do eat the equivalent of four sticks of butter in a month, in which case I need to overhaul my life choices and probably eat a raw vegan dumpster diet and get in touch with Jillian Michaels. I put down the pack of butter(s?) and made the executive decision to go to a deli or diner and just steal a bunch of tiny butter packets and stock up on them.

So, my next post will be going to a diner completely alone with the covert mission of stealing butter....
Until next time!


Oh me, OPI!

Lincoln Park After Dark
This is for the adventurer in you! The one that likes to take back alleys at 2 am, while talking loudly about your credit card or how expensive your heels are. It's for the part of you that walks into a dark room closes the door, then turns the lights on. GO crazy! Take a chance! Get mugged!

Barefoot in Barcelona
Like, Lincoln Park After Dark, BiB is not for the faint of heart. As any fabulous jet setter knows, Barcelona is one of Europe's party capitals and the perfect place to go clubbing after a luxurious day on la playa. But what you might not know is that Barcelona carries at least 12 unique , chic, strains of tetanus. That's enough for each little toe of yours, plus two for y'all freaks with twelve toes. Happy travels!

Did it On 'Em
Yep, you heard OPI. Do it on them, ya freak!



This past weekend was the most Spring-a-licious one all year. It gave me that good belly feeling of barbeques to come.
I spend time with my spirit animal the rabbit, which is always rewarding. I know, I know,
having a spirit animal I might as well bathe in patchouli and name my son Moonflower, and you know, maybe I will. But I will probably name him RabbitLochen or something forest-like and unforgiving.
I was born the day after Easter, so on Easter Monday, and my mama has always called me her little east
er bunny. From that, I've always been gifted bunny things- jewelry, fabrics, stationary, the occasional rabbits foot. A friend gave me this rabbit ring---->

Anyways, if Rabbits are my spirit animal then Spring is my spirit season so take me away mild allergy ridden weather, I am yours.



I am here to declare that I luv boyz. And this may come as a surprise, because 1) half of everyone thought I was a lurzbian and 2) I'm at an age where I should be loving men. But I don't. I luv boyz. And I keep spelling it that way because I'm obvi not a pedo-creepo hanging out outside of high school dances or helping 14 year olds sneak into R-rated movies, in which case I would write "I love boys."
But boyz and luv are a type of giggle in the back of your throat when you see some twenty somethings skateboard down the street and their boxers are all bunched and sticking out and you are like 'o damn i am in luv.'

I think thats why I like Paul Rudd so much. No matter how old or whatever he gets he still has that boyish smirk and I will luv it 4ever



So excited for this http://skidmorecomfest.tumblr.com/

Been in the gym workin on mah fitness, in hopes of doing lesbian Wonder Woman some justice.

Also, if "I didn't know I was pregnant" is a scary show, than "I can't believe I'm not pregnant" would be a really sad show. It could, however, be sponsored by "I can't believe it's not butter."

Happy Dolly Monday!


Mah Brain

How I imagine the 700 Club, having never watched 700 Club
Person 1: 656
Person 2: 657
Person 3: 658
Person 1: 659....
Person 2: 700!!! I WIN!

How I imagine the last line of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, having watched 2 minutes and 30 seconds into the trailer

How I imagine every plot of How I Met Your Mother, only having looked at photos of Neil Patrick Harris.
Quirky dude friend: Hey dude, have you seen my girlfriend recently? She isn't answering any of her phone calls?! Weird, right??
NPH: Errrkkkk ~pulls collar out~
QDF: What's that, dude?
NPH: Errkk I might have slept with her after one too many appletinis.
QDF: Wtf dude, you drink appletinis?
NPH: ~smiles at camera and pulls collar out~