I would possibly approve of a hold system in which I choose my own music. Or if someone came on the line to tell me a story or provide some juicy gossip during the wait. [This idea is **Uptown Girl APPROVED**]
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Here's to being another year
The staff here at Uptown Girl Diary would like to wish Alice many more happy healthy years of life and love!
*keep owning it*
Oh yeah and Alice- I made you this cake. No big deal. And not to pat myself on the back or anything, but I have to admit that it is pretty D-lish. Wish you were here to try a slice! But alas... I guess I'll have to eat more than my share like every other Thanksgiving-Birthday-and-Christmas treat.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Speaking of coffee... did I tell you that I no longer get my morning cup o' joe from Creepy McCreeperson? Well I don't. Shortly after I posted on the yummy coffee I get from his coffee cart there was a terrible incident. Shockingly it had nothing to do with the creepiness of the coffee-man. I was sitting at my desk, drinking my coffee, down to the last little bit, when to my surprise something fell into my mouth along with my sip of coffee. I immediately spit it into the trash to discover some sort of paper. It was disgusting I tell you. Of course I could imagine worse, but still it was icky. The next day, I told McCreeperson about the incident and he said something to the effect of "yeah sometimes the filter breaks".
I had loved Creepy and his coffee so much that I got it a couple more times before deciding I was through. Even thought I didn't get any more filter in my cup or mouth, the coffee had this grossgusting filtery taste to it. Maybe it was all in my head. Whatever, if you sipped some filter and didn't know what it was in your mouth and got all freaked out by it, you'd taste it every time too. So I broke up with Creepy. Technically I just walk down a different block now and find coffee at random.
But when I see him again I'll get the guts up to tell him that I simply hate his coffee now, but that if ever I want tea I'll be sure to go to his cart as there is no filter involved. Or something like that. What would you say?
Thursday, December 24, 2009
"Spotted, Uptown Girl in New Jersey. This photo was taken today of the world-famous Uptown Girl. An insider remarks 'I saw her canoodling with Eduardo Verastegui' [of the movie Bella and the Brad Pitt of Mexico]."
Now, friends, there is nothing that gets my goat like bad reporting. This photo was not taken today! That's right. When the papa-razzi gets the story all wrong it just kills me. This photo was from a chance meeting back in October (see here to read all about why I didn't kiss him
Truth: I am in New Jersey for the Christmas holiday. Celebrating with the fam. Fo shizzle my nizzle lemon drizzle. Creating bremories with my little brothers and sisters who all happen to be taller than me. Except for Bina, my youngest sister is short and that's why she is my fave. Short and sweet. Making me look tall. Meanwhile my youngest brother is dressed like an elf- complete with a hat that sings. How come the stalker-razzi doesn't take photos of these presh family moments? Right, because that would be too invasive and also real life. No one wants to hear about real life these days. At least not over at E-News I guess.
Anywho. Love from New Jersey.
For the record, in case you were wondering, quoting myself is just as exhilarating as it's cracked up to be. Maybe more. You really must try it.
My loving lovable aunt who follows this lil ole blogizzle took that bold unveiled hint and ran a marathon with it. Back in November, she gave me not one but two of the mugs I mentioned as an early bday present. Both filled with M&Ms and KitKats. Is that not the most thoughtful gift? Are you totally jealous that you weren't first in the long and growing line of great gift giving?
Yes. This is an actual true-to-life picture of one of the mugs. I took it myself. It is not from Google Images. Take your time. Stare. Drool. Gawk.
As is clearly fitting, I have the most fab followers and aunts ever. E-ver. You know I'm right.
And while we are on the topic of my birthday, you should know that I am ending the celebrations early in order to make room for Christmas. That's right, I am graciously giving the next part of December to JC. The Big Man Upstairs. King of Kings. Lord of Lords. Prince of Peace. It is now time for Christmas miracles. Proceed.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Yikes- as I was typing that first poignant line, the "clever greeting" if you will, I remembered that I was cooking rice on the stove. I made the rice, and the water was all magically disappeared - as is supposed to happen - but the rice was a bit too al dente for my taste so I added a little mas aguita and turned the stove back on. But not the timer.
I think you know where this is going... but you'd be wrong because I didn't burn the rice or overcook it. It is perfect and delectable. You know how I do. And that last sentence is meant to be read in a southern slash obnoxious slash Tasha Mack accent. If you don't know what I'm talking about then please refer to the plethora of re-runs of The Game on BET. And then return to me a little wiser and with more catch phrases.
Where was I? Yes, the 29th anniversary of my birth occurred on Friday, Dec 18th. I am officially still in my 20s but somehow feel older. Also more fabulous, but that should go without saying. Probably it is my "wise beyond my years" talking when I say this, but women are just amazing beautiful creatures. Wise beyond my years, right??
Well this birthday I feel (I use the present tense because I am continuing to celebrate my birthday for as long as I can
Let me break it down for you. Lovey and I both took the day off from work. We lounged, we worked out, we ate, we shopped, we gabbed, we gossiped. You know- we had a girls' day out. Then my girlfriends treated me to tea and scones at Alice's Tea Cup aka The Girliest Place in NYC. I wore fairy wings and was sprinkled with fairy dust. It was fantastigorical.
On Saturday, I had a family brunch here on the Upper Eastside complete with my mom and my brother who moved back from India just in time for my bday. And that night there was a blizzard. When I say blizzard I mean TONS o' snow. Several inches. Fluffy. White. Windy. The city shut down. But on the Upper Eastside it was on like Rae Dawn Chong. We pulled on our boots. We trekked out into the wilderness of NY in snow. We hiked down to the bar along with several other brave party-goers to celebrate the holiday: my birthday. It was a blast and I felt so very loved by everyone who ventured out of their cozy apartments on such a snowy and unsafe night! Thanks friends!
On Sunday evening my aunts took me out to dinner at a delish restaurant. As I'm about to eat my leftovers plus rice I will sign off and enjoy the delectable goodness on my plate. But before I do, I just want to thank you all for your happy birthday wishes and of course the gift of your presence in my life as I blog. Just one request: if you could get me a laptop for a combined bday&Christmas gift that'd be great. kthanksbye.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
please see this ad.
ps- my favorite line is:
"WE NEED MEN TO PUT DOWN THE PLASTIC FORK, STEP AWAY FROM THE SALAD BAR AND UNTIE THE WORLD FROM THE TRACKS OF COMPLACENCY. IT'S TIME TO GET YOUR HANDS DIRTY."
Monday, December 14, 2009
Well, keeping me from blogging this weekend (other than my usual lack of regular computer access) was dinner&drinks with the girls on Friday night, attending a baby shower on Saturday, sadly skipping a bday party on Saturday night because I was so tired after the baby shower (is it just me or is it tiring to watch other ppl open gifts?), and co-hostessing a pot-luck dinner on Sunday. Whirl-wind-week-end.
And that brings me to my birthday week. It really crept up on me so fast and I have to admit that I'm a little disappointed. The anticipation is always the best part of these things you know. I'd rather anticipate turning 22 rather than actually turn 22. I mean, 29.
We're close friends, you and I, I'll level with you. I tell everyone I'm turning 22. But since I know you can keep a secret, know this info already, and respect me more for my wisdom and grace, you get to know my real age. This Friday I will turn 29 for the first time. Probably the first of many years that I tell people I'm 29. Even once I'm owning it as a 30-something, I'll still like to see if people believe I'm younger. Obvi. I smoked cigarettes for years just to get carded. I could smile for days knowing that the bodega man wasn't sure if I was over 18. Ahh, good times, good times. Now that I'm a happy non-smoker though I try to find new ways to get my laughs and create situations in which to be inadvertently complimented. It is a cherished past-time of mine. Be sure to pass on any tips or suggestions in this venture. It would be most appreciated by yours truly.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
The matter at hand is my Christmas Wish List aka Your Christmas Shopping List! Because it is that time of year and I know you're dying to know what you can get for me. It is only natural to have these feelings. And, of course, I'm here to answer that burning question...
First, watch this video that I told you to watch on Own It a couple days ago:
Next click this link to donate my Christmas gift to Charity:Water and you will join the uber-importante team unofficially known as: " Uptown Girl VIP Well-Builders: Special Operations". You're welcome in advance for this unique opportunity to serve those who in need while making me happy all.in.one.fell.swoop.
Like killing two birds with one stone. Like wearing a diamond on each hand. Like eating pie a la mode. You get the picture. It is a no-brainer.
If you've already done my Christmas shopping, it would be acceptable for you to donate to Charity:Water as my birthday gift instead. Uptown Girl Approved.
ps- birthday countdown is at T minus 8 days and counting (but I'm sure you knew that already).
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
After complimenting my kurta, one of my smart 33 followers asked what that lil brother of mine is doing in India anyway. Good question Colleen. Mostly missing me. Obvi.
But, other than that, he is working. Microfinance to be exact. Something about giving small loans to small companies in developing countries. In laywoman's terms, my bro is a "Banker to the Poor". Full time, serving Indian communities for profit.
Lil bro moves back to the home country (aka NYC) on my birthday. Happy birthday to me! His girlfriend has been missing him this last year and a half, so don't go getting any ideas ladies.
At www.kiva.org, from the comfort of your own couch, you too can become a banker to the poor and loan $20+ to companies in the third world. You
If a donation is what you're after, check out the link for charity:water on the right as well as a great holiday-giving video entitled "Advent Conspiracy" at our very own Own it.
Back to India. Here's a tidbit to satisfy your curiosity for a hot minute.
Did I tell you about the bobble? In India it is more than common to move your head like a bobble-head-doll rather than nodding.
"Do you have bottled water so I don't get the runs?"
"100 rupees!? I'll give you 70."
"Am I the most glittery and sparkley Uptown Girl that you've ever seen?"
Monday, December 7, 2009
men give flowers and chocolates
to their wives."
The Taj was amazing.
India was incredible.
And my brother's apartment is elegance.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
So here is another quick list to give you an idea of what I've been up to these last few days. My brother lives in South India, but as I'm an Uptown Girl he knew that he should show me the touristy parts of the north (sort of like uptown, but mostly not).
I'd like to call this list "Stuff White People Like":
- The Taj. Yeah, the amazing Taj Mahal. Number 1 wonder of the world (at least that's what our guide told me.
- Elephant ride on my bro's b-day while wearing kitchy Maharajah hats. Think Moulin Rouge. Think Ewan McGregor. No, he didn't wear a Maharajah hat, but how can you think of Moulin Rouge and not Ewan??
- Camel ride.
- Forts and Palaces. We stayed overnight at Neemrana Fort Palace which was once... wait for it... a fort palace. It is now a "Non-hotel Hotel" with a pool, camel rides, and zip-lines.
- Yummy food with little to no hotness. I bring to the table all the hotness needed. You know.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
With that in mind, you are cordially invited to start celebrating my birth-month.
Please RSVP ASAP and use the above stamp to make it official.
I'm still on vacay in India and will check for all of your stamped replies at the end of the week when I get back to the home country! You know you miss me.
Friday, November 27, 2009
So far I've survived:
- A bus ride to JFK surrounded by drunk
kidsguys from West Point who were loud, obnoxious, and peeing in a can that eventually spilled.
- 2 very long flights with several screaming babies and food that was interesting (to put it nicely).
- My first night sleeping in India with a mosquito in my bed.
- A cold shower.
- My first meal in India that was supposedly bland and yet my mouth was on fire. A low flame, but still fire.
- Watching 3 movies on the plane that I've been wanting to see. Julie and Julia (LOVE), My Sister's Keeper (I cried like a baby amongst crying babies on the plane), and Time Traveller's Wife (eh, it passed the time).
- Getting to see where my brother lives and meet his ex-pat friends.
- Being able to write this post while everyone else is working. Yay!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Visiting Indians for Thanksgiving. How PC is that?
Happy Thanksgiving from my cozy little economy seat. As I look down on the world today I'll say a prayer of thanksgiving for all my blogging buddies. That means you.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
I've been told to bring linen pants and t-shirts to wear. Linen pants. Where do you find linen pants in November in NY? On the internet. QVC. They arrived in time but unfortunately they don't really fit me. They're way big and unflattering. But they're all I've got and they'll work with my oh so fashion forward t-shirts.
Even with the incredible fashion faux pas that I'll be rocking in India, I will find a way to look and be fabulous. Obvi. I'm an Uptown Girl and I'll own those larger than life linen pants that add 10 lbs to my frame. I'll be thinking in kilograms anyhow, so with all that metric conversion math I'll probably be too confused to worry about ruining my once in a lifetime photos.
Since I know how much you miss me when I'm gone, here is a little something for you to remember me by (while I'm far far away on the other side of the world for about ten days) while you celebrate the most important holiday of the year. Black Friday.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan's elite.
I know you've been lost without me. It's only natural.
So, you want to know what I've been up to these postless weeks? You want to know where I've been?
That's right, it spells stranded. My major daily internet
Anywho. You've missed me and that is the reason that I'm holed up in my room late at night secretly borrowing my roomie's epically slower than an upside down turtle in a race against time sorry excuse for a laptop (sorry Lovey, but you know I blog the truth, like Lightman would if he started a blog in his fictitious existence). And I'm extremely grateful to be using said laptop to clear my head slash post this post.
Where was I? Right. You've missed me, and you're dying to know what I've been up to. A crap ton... I'll make a list.
- Travelled via bus to and from Virginia to visit my brother, sister-in-law, and the 3 cutest children that exist (since I am now grown).
- While sitting with my niece (still in VA), she told me "Aunt Uptown Girl, you have beautiful eyebrows". Obvi. What a smart and observant child.
- Attended a Chili Cook-off (in VA) among countless married couples and their myriad of children (most of the kids were in the basement with the babysitters, where I prob belonged). Yummy chili, interesting insights into the world of family life. When we piled into the minivan at the end of the night I thought it was at least 10pm. It was 7:29. And my niece said "can we go to the party now? that wasn't a party."
- Started feeling like my head might explode on the bus ride back to NY. It did not explode. It did however brew a home-concoction I like to call sinusitis. As this is still lingering I finally started antibiotics today.
- I've tried to rest as much as possible. I've watched way too much tv, fallen further in love with the DVR, and discovered a Peruvian cold remedy that knocks me out for hours on end.
- skipping some steps due to passing my bedtime.
- Celebrated Lovey's bday. Multiple times. Cake, beer, fairy wings, beer, cake, ice cream, love. I love birthdays. I love Lovey. Tons O' celebratory goodness. Partied like the rockstars we are. Ain't no thang.
- Haven't run in 2 weeks. 2. weeks. Part bc I was travelling. Then part sinusitis/head-cold/sore throat stuff. And part laziness. Yes, I've let myself go. Did you read the part about the beer, cake, and ice cream?
- At least I have beautiful eyebrows.
- Getting ready for India. I leave next Wednesday. Can you believe it? Visa- check. Some of my travel meds- check. Knowing what I will pack- ? eeeeeek no no no.
- Work happy (3) hour party with dancing and unprofessional behavior. But not from me.
- You should also know that I had a great hair day today.
- MISSING BLOGGING. I've realized how much I rely on blogging to get out my thoughts and feelings and ideas. And how much you need me. I'm so sorry for your loss in these last days and weeks. I will do my best to beg, borrow, and steal (prob steal) my way onto computers to post for you. Because that's the kind of Uptown Girl I am.
I hope this post addressed your concerns and satisfied your curiosity for now. And remember, curiosity killed the cat.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
In the meantime, I have given over the keys to the blog-kingdom. The spare set. To Lovey. It is her birthday, so really, there is no better gift.
My beautiful So-You-Think-You-Can-Dance-loving Uptown Girl bestie may or may not choose to utilize her newfound power. We will have to wait and see. Time will tell. Will we be so lucky?
Friday, November 6, 2009
But, sadly, even Uptown Girls have to watch a commercial now and then. In a scenario such as this:
I am getting ready for work in the morning and doing my hair or make-up (I guess that answers your lingering question- its Maybelline) and Good Morning America is on in the background. And the commercials start, and I can either stop what I'm doing to change the channel, or let them play on. It is quite the conundrum. This is one of the many occasions when I tell myself how helpful it would be to have a servant. I inevitably listen (from the bathroom where I am using the straightener) to multiple ads about medications for depression, urinary incontinence, or asthma medications I should talk to my doctor about. I can scarily repeat some of the lines word for word.
One commercial that I have seen one too many times is this vile ad for fishsticks...
It makes me mad every.single.time.
Serio?! How this helps sell Mrs. Paul's fishsticks is beyond me. If I were a fishstick kind of girl (which I'm not) I'd boycott the product. And if I were that mom I'd probably go out there and buy some more minced fishsticks to serve that ungrateful brat at every meal. Its a good thing that child is just acting because otherwise I'd predict a future of drama queendom and bi-otch central. What 4 year old even knows the word minced? I'm not sure I have a clear understanding of the definition of minced and I'm an adult. Sort of.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Those eyes, that voice, that accent...
Watch Ewan pronounce McGregor at the 45 second mark of this interview.
Even his name becomes uber dreamy. Swooncity. Droolable.
Have a tissue on hand.
For Ewan McGregor,
I would happily become a courtesan dying of tuberculosis...
Monday, November 2, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
[aside: so I just remembered that today is in fact Thursday, not Friday... but since Friday is the best day, lets just pretend for a minute shall we...]
I drink coffee in the morning. This was always an occasional thing, never daily. Until about three months ago. Here in the big apple we have Starbucks like everyone else. We have coffee shops and bodegas. But we also have coffee carts. It is a glorious thing to behold. A little enclosed cart with a person standing inside to serve coffee, tea, pastries, and depending on the cart, make egg sandwiches. In the neighborhood where I work we have several coffee carts. And I've tried them all.
[this is a pic from google images, not the Upper Eastside]
There are two carts directly across the street. I used to get my occasional cup of morning joy from one of these carts. But there is always always a line. And why should I stand in a line? I am an Uptown Girl. I deserve better. Obvi.
I tried a coffee cart about a block away, it is on my way to work and close enough that the coffee is still piping hot when I get to my desk. This coffee cart almost never has a line, and the coffee is delish. I found my place. And, of course, I soon became a VIP at this coffee cart and a loyal daily customer.
My coffee man is very friendly. Sometimes too friendly. Sometimes borderline inappropriate. Sometimes downright creepy. Would you like me to share some examples with you? Oh, ok, no problem.
Examples of Creepiness:
- Creepy McCreeperson tells me on a regular basis that he likes my eyes. As he stares into them and I avert said eyes. Today he told my walking buddy, "I see stars in your eyes", or something like that. In fact, it makes me feel a little better when he comments on her eyes in addition to mine.
- When I pay my $1.25 for a large coffee with a large bill (aka a $5, $10, or $20) rather than exact change, Creepy McCreeperson says, and I quote, "Oh, big spender. You taking me out to dinner tonight?" This is followed by a restaurant suggestion such as McDonald's or The World Series. This is what he says every single time I use a "large bill". Every. Single. Time. I now have my clever response down to a science. I reply, "Sure, I'll meet you at McDonald's. See you there".
- One Monday morning, our convo went like this:
Creepy: How was your weekend?
UG: Not long enough... How was yours?
Creepy: Good good. I had a dream about you.
UG: Oh.... haha... [awkward laugh]
Creepy: Yes, on Friday night you were in my dream. But then I woke up
and you weren't there.
UG: [walks away speechless]
And there you have it folks. Why do I continue to get coffee from Mr. McCreeperson? Thank you for asking. I love the speed and ease in obtaining my coffee. Creepy McCreeperson knows exactly what I want and gets it ready for me as I'm walking up to his cart of creepiness. I love that.
And why don't I know his real name by now? Well that is clearly due to his creepiness. As a daily customer, I would typically ask his name and tell him mine. However McCreeperson already gets too familiar and personal. I don't want to encourage him. Or his dreams.
The truth is, when it comes down to it, I really don't think Creepy is such a bad guy. I think if I actually took him up on his dinner suggestion McCreeperson would most likely turn me down and say something like, "oh no no no, I'm a family man, I have a wife and kids in a foreign land or possibly an outer borough." I think he is all talk. And hey, who doesn't like getting complimented on their eyes over coffee everyday?
Now get back to work and try to help me remember that today is Thursday, not Friday. I still get to see Creepy McCreeperson one more day this week.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
It is a big holiday for me, and the costume is of course clutch. I'm hitting a road block. And I don't like this indecision one bit.
So, here I am. Four days until lift-off. Sans ideas. And that's where you (my loyal public) come in... please help me!
I have some specs, obvi.
- My costume should be simple to put together- aka if I need to purchase something it should be easy to obtain and fairly low-budget. I mean, I'd rather spend my money while out celebrating the holiday than on the costume itself.
- My costume should be clever (preferably). I like anything that is a play on words, but not so complicated that no one understands it. Last year I went as Facebook. Strangers wrote messages on my back (FB Wall) all night. And I listed my age as 21. That was a perk.
- My costume should be flattering to the figure but not slutty. You know, all the other girls have that covered. Slutty nurse, slutty superhero, slutty blogger, slutty prostitute. It's passe.
My youngest sister suggested that I go as Kate Gosselin from Jon&Kate+Eight. Our convo went like this:
Lil Sis: Can I have your blessing to dress up like Facebook this year?
UG: You have my Uptown Girl stamp of approval [ **UG APPROVED**]. Any ideas for me?
Lil Sis: A girl in my class is dressing up as Kate from J&K+8. You could do that.
UG: That is so mean and sad! Plus the hairdo...
Lil Sis: I know, I know, but its funny.
I declined. And let me just say that I am expecting a lot from you bloggers. There are quite a few of you loyal fans that make yourselves known and others out there that lurk [read: read the post but don't comment]. If there is a time to comment with an idea, that time is now. Any idea you have is appreciated!!!!
*disclaimer- I am a grown woman that likes to dress up on Halloween, yes. But this is NYC, it is a big thing. It is a huge night for going out. In my hometown the holiday is for kids only, but here it is for us grownups. And I do use the term grownup loosely.
Monday, October 26, 2009
At the end of our convo, Mr. Patient Man handed me a chocolate bar and said... "you look so skinny, you'd better eat this".
I'm not making this up. He really said that.
Outside of dreamland (and maybe blogland- thanks to *Rita*), no one has ever referred to me as skinny. On top of that, I am feeling particularly bloated today. And this patient is very skinny himself. I mean, I could break him if I bumped into him. I could knock him over if I exhaled in his direction.
I thanked him, blushed, pinched myself, checked behind me for a candid-camera-crew, and replied that "well, no one has ever called me that before, but I'll take it". I told him I'd share the chocolate bar with my coworkers who are in fact skinny minnies. And I walked away attempting to see myself the way Mr. Patient Man sees me. Even if Mr. Patient Man is just an old charmer. Even if Mr. Patient Man has an eye disease that left him almost blind so that my actual body is blurred out when he looks my way. What matters is that he sees me as I am: a woman in need of chocolate. Could he be my personal elderly Mark Darcy?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
On a side note, how sad is it that I have to shop Target online because there are no stores in Manhattan? I just shed a tear on behalf of New Yorkers everywhere. We are a Targetless island. But, alas, it is the weekend so I'll have to save the complaining for its rightful time and place: my Monday morning commute.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Please brace yourself and try not to think less of me when you read this...
I am in need of boots. And a new purse. Shocking, I know.
I'd like some flat boots that hit mid-calf. Although I'd like them in a yummy reddish-brown color, it seems more practical for my everyday sophistication to instead seek and purchase black boots*. Leather. Do you ever go into Aldo's or some other shoe store that sells loads of leather boots and just go around smelling all that real leather? Neither do I. That would be weird.
As for the purse, I'd like something practical while still chic. The problem with my current collection is that my bags are either too big or too small, and those that are the right size are too heavy for my dainty frame even when empty (and i do tend to carry way too much crap in my purse regardless of size). Like Goldilocks, I'm looking for a bag that is just right. Right size, neutral color, convenient pockets, and impeccable style.
What I've researched via online shopping has been very promising. But I want to try on the boots before buying, and see the quality of both the boots and purse in real life. I just don't trust that the item will be as spectacular in person as it is in the airbrushed online photo. And my feet are a work of art. Original and in need of that perfect fit. I developed a new habit awhile back in which I do not buy shoes unless they fit well and are comfortable. It has drastically changed my shoe shopping and my closet.
I also do not buy a shoe or any accessory or piece of clothing unless I love it. When I'm in that dressing room admiring myself in some outfit I'm trying on in the 3-way mirror, I often remark "like-not-love". That determines whether or not I will make the purchase. I grew sick and tired of buying and then not wearing. Tired of seeing that item that I liked-not-loved when I tried it on and trying to find a time to wear it but instead growing frustrated with the waste of money, time, and space, and the growing dust on said item.
This brings me back to my oh-so-important point. I adore the boots you see below! I originally saw them on Say yes to Hoboken. They are Victoria's Secreat. And catalog/online ONLY. Is it worth the risk of ordering the boots and then having to send them back? I am not so great at that returning items in the mail part. They are beautiful though, even if I can't try them on, even if they are much higher on the leg than what I'm hoping to find. To buy or not to buy online? To risk or not to risk? That is the question. What is your opinion?
[these boots are so yummylicious! i swoon. i die.]
Please feel free to give me links and/or leads to any boots and/or purses that you think I will love. I plan on taking time out of my hectic schedule to
smell a lot of leather shop this weekend and would really like a successful hunt.
*keep in mind that I wear a lot of black, never chocolate brown, and occasionally red-brown, tan, or beige.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
I pour so much love into Blogger and I give Blogger countless hours of time, attention, and tender loving care. I give and give and give... sometimes I cry at night thinking about this sick co-dependant relationship I'm in. And it hurts. Love hurts.
Oh now I have that song stuck in my head from "Wedding Singer". No not the song entitled Love Hurts. Remember that Boy George wanna-be who sang Do you really want to hurt me... do you really want to make me cry... over and over? Yeah, it is now playing over and over in my head. On repeat.
If any of you, my public, has any pull with Blogger, please put a word in on my behalf. Or with a company that will sell me a laptop for cheap- your choice.
Happy Saturday Blogland!
Friday, October 16, 2009
Now that the Big Apple is in the midst of an undesirable nor'easter, the outdoor seating is no longer an option and the restaurant's outer wall is a row of windows. Last night, already drenched and freezing, I was overjoyed to get to Gina's and step inside this warm peaceful atmosphere. After my body adjusted to the temperature I started to freeze again. Unfortunately, they had a window-wall panel open and I was getting a brisk breeze. Not nice at all. I'm not sure if the restaurant was actually freezing due to the open window, or if I was personally freezing in my rain soaked pants and converse kicks. The world may never know. The world does know this: I complained to the waiter and eventually the window-wall panel was closed and I was relieved of the gusty wind, but still cold.
I think deep down I am a glittering socialite diva. But even deeper down I am an elderly lady. The evidence: once I get cold I can't shake it, can't warm up, I think it is in my bones. My bones are cold and my body is shivering from the inside out. Also I have grey hair beneath this hairdye, my bones creak, and I listen to music from 40 years ago.
This sparkling diva has an announcement to make. You must MUST check out Gina la Fornarina. Because aside from the fluke weather issues, it is a find. It has yummy coffee, drinks (dying to try their Bellini), and food. Last night we shared this interesting focaccia pizza with bread on top and bottom, stuffed with ricotta cheese, tomatoes, arugula, and truffle sauce. It was unbelievable and I had to stuff myself. No choice really.
That said, my favorite part is actually the European atmosphere. There is no rush, and I felt as though we could stay there all night chatting and munching, like the table belonged to us. I've passed by several nights when there are couples or groups sitting there relaxing enjoying a bottle of wine and felt the urge to go join them (but I resisted).
[not the best pic, but I swear it was delish]
That is my two cents on my favorite fall find. Check it out and let me know what you think. Better yet, lets go together. I'd be happy to let you take me out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or drinks. Because that's the kind of girl I am.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Dear Sam Champion,
It is raining today. And quite chilly. I had to wear my pea coat and carry an umbrella. I forgot my rainboots at home. Lamespice. But, Sam, I am 80% ok with that because in exchange for crap weather today I have a special request...
If its not too much trouble, I'd like you to make sure it is nice and sunny all weekend. That means no rain from Friday afternoon until Monday morning. Rainy days and Mondays always get me down, and I really would like a kickin weekend.
I'd really appreciate it if you'd arrange some sunshine for me, Sammy.
<3 Uptown Girl <3
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
There is just something about a love that is true, that is pure, that is unfailing, and that is fake. It gets me every time. Is it totally unrealistic to expect real unscripted men to behave like Jim? Probably. Well, not probably, more like definitely.
I've discussed with my girlfriends (on multiple multiple occasions) the idea that Rosie O'Donnell brought to our attention in Sleepless in Seattle...
The scene: 2 women are sitting around either watching or discussing a movie. An Affair to Remember. Classic romance. Love it. Anyways I will let Annie and Becky do the talking.
Annie (Meg Ryan): "Now that was when people KNEW how to be in love. They knew it! Time, distance... nothing could separate them because they knew. It was right. It was real. It was..."
Becky (Rosie O): "A movie! That's your problem! You don't want to be in love. You want to be in love in a movie." [emphasis added for your benefit]
Now, to add a little sugar and spice to this post, I will send you over to read this brief classic post at OWN IT from 2008 where we discussed the difference between settling and being realistic about men. Little known fact... they are human. Did you know that?
I know you've seen me refer to babs in prior posts. Boys are bad and stupid. And this is a shocking concept to some (I can only assume these shocked souls are idealists with perfect lives). However, I think the idea of babs is actually quite forgiving to men, and not a man-bashing club. Ok, sometimes it is, but I just can't help myself when I get new raw material. Can you?
The theory played out should look something like this: if you assume that men will at some point do something bad, stupid, idiotic, wrong, mess up, etc then when the man in your life makes a mistake, which is inevitable, you can avoid feeling like men "always disappoint". Again- men and dads in movies are so unbelievable and perfect, and if they aren't perfect at the beginning of a show or movie, they are by the end. Am I right or am I right? Yes, I am. The men on the silver screen give us precisely what we need and want, and the men in real life can never measure up. It is unfair to both sexes.
What is fair then?? Thank you for asking. I'd say it is fair to assume that the men in our off-screen lives will be imperfect. We don't expect idealistic picture perfect friendships with our girlfriends, flawless and ever blissful relationships with our family, do we? So instead of waiting for the dude to fail and then responding with "aha! I knew he was an arse!" it can look more like "ahh yes, you're an arse, but that's life".
[Obvi I'm talking about failing in small everyday human ways, not the big stuff because that is a different level in the system. Don't get crazy.]
Do you agree with me? Yay or nay? Have you found a way to balance these oh so important everyday issues? Are you of the opinion that we women are the ones who tend to create the problems? Do tell.
This post is one long tangent that just kept developing itself as I wrote (and props to Liza for allowing me to plagiarize her whenever I want to). But what I really wanted to tell you is this: I have a hot date tonight. yep.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
[aside: I intend this information to be used with discretion. As such, please read faces not actual bodies.]
*beard poll on the right. don't miss the opportunity to
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
This is Eric Dane. But you already knew that. Sadly, Mr. Dane has a beard. You know how I feel about beards and their rankocity. I would be willing to find out if McSteamy's beard is McSmelly or not, for the purposes of science and for your benefit, of course.
And he will have to wear this suit for the scientific stank-o-meter kiss, or no dice. obvi, I don't kiss just anyone you know.
Topic numero tres: Leaving on a jet plane.
I'm leaving on a jet plane. Don't know when I'll be back again. Oh babe, I hate to go.
That is a lie. I know when I'm coming back. Remember, I'm going to India at the end of November because I want to celebrate Thanksgiving the way it was intended- pilgrims and Indians together. My ancestors were pilgrims (yes, Mayflower and all), so I will go to India and do it right this year. Also to be with my brother and see the whole world.
I've been mulling over an assortment of thoughts and ideas and preparations that have to be thought thru before my trip. Today I'm mostly thinking about how to pack.
I will be travelling alone, so I really can't bring too many suitcases. Let's be honest here, how will I go to the bathroom in the airport if I'm lugging multiple suitcases? That has been my latest reoccurring nightmare.
Its like this..... I'm sleeping, like a baby, all curled up in the fetal position, comfy cozy with my carebear (vintage), when suddenly I am in the airport in Brussels for my layover. I'm trying to simultaneously roll two large suitcases behind me while eating Pepperidge Farm cookies, brussels (and oh are they delish or what?). It is really quite difficult, but I'm all proud that I can multi-task so well and do three things with only two arms. I'm walking thru the airport thinking about what a powerful world-travelling, multi-tasking, cookie-loving woman I have become. Quintessential Uptown Girl moment.
And this is where the nightmare part comes in... all of a sudden I have to pee. Like really really have to go immediately. My bladder feels like it is about to burst. And I rush to the nearest bathroom (WC in a Brussels airport of course) worrying about where I will lodge my suitcases once inside. But I can't even get thru the WC door with my suitcases. I have become a wide load. And then in the dream I am suddenly being led and followed by "Wide Load" trucks with the blinking lights that lead those made to order houses when they travel on the highway. They are trying to lead me to another bathroom that can fit me with my luggage. But it is in the wrong terminal and I'm nervous that I'll pee my pants or miss my flight or something.
And then I wake up. And realize I have to go use the restroom.
What do you think this means?? Am I just nervous about travelling? Am I drinking too much aguita before bed? Is it a sign that I should travel light? Am I feeling fat? The world may never know.
Topic numero quatro: I wrote 100 posts. You're Welcome.
How did that even happen? I went from not being so into blogging and complaining that my sister wanted me to write a real post for her blog, to writing a zillion (ok 100) posts for my own fabulous blogizzle. Yowza.
Thank you for joining me on my journey. Keep coming back for the next 100!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Mr. Turturro and I rode the long bus ride from the Upper Eastside to Midtown West, where I was to meet my eX. I asked Mr. T a little bit about acting because I have a brother who hopes to become a successful actor one day. I got Mr. T's autograph for said brother. However, Mr. T did not want to talk much about his craft.
Mr. T suggested we have dinner. I reminded him that I was on my way to meet my eX, and then I agreed to coffee at a cafe about a block from where I was headed so that the eX could come meet him, too. We drank our coffee, but as soon as the eX texted that he was rounding the corner, Mr. T had to rush off. They didn't get to meet.
And the eX was angry. Very angry that I would even think to go to coffee with another man. Even John Turturro. Even a man who was over twice my age. Even a man who knew about the eX and was waiting to buy him a cup of coffee.
We made it home (fighting) and I looked up John Turturro in Google Images. Oh, I was so conned. The lovely man who kept me company for the afternoon was not in fact Mr. T at all. He does not ride this bus in order to "be one with the people of NY". The real Mr. Turturro does not have a foreign accent.
This is the lesson I learned: men blow everything out of proportion, so it is unwise to let them know when you make a mistake until after you check the facts. And even then, just don't tell them if you don't have to. I should've waited until I verified that coffee was with the real John Turturro before divulging that information (if at all). Now I know how to play my cards right. Also, babs.
I also stopped talking to strangers on public transportation (unless they are in my personal space unnecessarily, but that is a different kind of conversation). And when I see the fake Mr. T sitting at that same bus stop, I look the other way. And when I see confirmed celebs in public, I don't often go to coffee with them.
And there you have it friends, one story, two versions. You decide. Choose your own adventure.