I'm IT

I've been tagged by one of the most fabulous bloggers, Ann from Daily Ann-tidote. Remember when we met IRL? How sacot are we?

Well, Ann was tagged to answer some Qs and then she tagged yours truly. I'm copy/pasting her post so I can be as lazy as possible about this. Don't worry, I'll be sure to change the answers. Otherwise I could be arrested for plagiarism or something.

1) What's a perfect styling for you?
I have no idea. I do love wearing classics and anything reminiscent of Jackie O, so lets go with that.

2) For what do you spend most of your money?
Going out to eat. In fact I have another afternoon food-tour planned today. Planned to lighten my wallet I suppose.

3) What's your favorite song at this moment?
Ours by The Bravery... and countless others.

4) Which excellences do you think you have?
I don't understand this question. I'm excellent all around Don't you think? I know!

5) And What are your failings?
Failings? Really? I'm an Uptown Girl. If I had to choose something I'd say procrastination. Right now I'm supposed to be cleaning my apartment.

And now I tag these bloggers:
Liza (or any contributor) at Own It... duh

Homeward Bound

I'm sitting at the airport waiting to board my flight to NY. And I'm sad.
By the end of a trip I'm usually ready to get home and get back to my peeps and my life. As much as I do def miss my bed and my besties back in the concrete jungle that I lovingly call home... I also already miss my besties that I just hugged, kissed, and honked goodbye.
And my lakehouse and Lake Ponchartrain. And my two two-year old boyfriends.

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My boyfriend...

He's a little south of my age range, but maybe that's why our relationship works so well? Also he gives great hugs.

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Crawfish Time

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sunset on the front porch

can you say yummy?
mmmm
got 2 love it.

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on stilts

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tech difficulty

bleh. I can't even edit my posts remotely... at all.
Please try to overlook and ignore my typos in vacay posts here on out.
kthanksbye.

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and so it begins...

I just typed up a long elaborate post about the start of my Louisiana vacay with my college girls.
I'm way too frustrated with Blogger-Droid to type the whole priceless post.

Try to be satisfied with this photo and my vacay stats.

Vacay Stats:
11 college girlfriends.
4 of their husbands (one of whom us also a college friend is mine).
4 cabins which turned out to be posh beach houses that sit ON the water.
14 children under 4 years old.

Endless running, screaming, laughing, eating, and fun.

Happy Vacay Blogland! ttfn mi amor!

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Status=Hiatus

If the virtual world of social media has taught me anything of use (it hasn't), it is that people want a status update now and again. This isn't always the case, but people like to think that other people care about the update. And, of course, people don't always care. But you care about my status updates and that's what matters.

The update is that I'm on a dating hiatus. Partly by choice and partly by accepting the situation for what it is. Yes, I already updated this status, I suppose, when I told you I ended my online dating career. I was utterly fed up with online dating and frustrated by my own obsession with it. I mean... come on. Who wants to hear all that "why didn't he call?" and "maybe he'll call tonight" and "oh what a d-bag" all the time, over and over in your own head? Not me. It was at the point where I was annoying myself and, well, it was pretty annoying. Believe me.

And now, on my hiatus, I have a clearer head and a peaceful heart. I'm much happier with my singleness. Read: I'm content. It means that I'm on a break from stressing out about what is. This by no means means that I'm not open to dating. Feel free to send your brother, cousin, son, guy-friend, or co-worker my way. Just please only send grown-ups. Literally and figuratively.

My mancation* is all that it's cracked up to be. I know all the answers to all the silly little "He's Just Not That Into You" questions. The answer is.... NO. No he's no calling tonight. Read: I don't need to check my phone a zillion times and get disappointed a zillion times. It's freeing, chillaxing, and calmer.

My roommates Some might compare me to Ginnifer Goodwin's role in the "He's Just Not That Into You" movie. Full of hope and pouring oodles of effort into meeting someone who fills her heart with joy. Only to be consistently crushed. [aside: this applies in the Leading Up To A Relationship stage of dating. To reveal my In A Relationship behavior and personality, please see the long ridiculous and embarassing post that i haven't yet written.]

Like this character, I'm repeating a mantra. "I'm not the exception, I'm the rule". As you would imagine, this mantra is quite convoluted for an Uptown Girl to wrap her brain around.
I'm so used to being a special, unique, and exceptional Uptown Girl, that it is a lot of work to convince me that "I'm the rule". And that "Men Love Bitches". That's another one I need to work on... being more of a bi-otch to the men I date.

Do you see?? See what happens? Not 2 paragraphs ago, I was telling you how calm I am. And a moment later I'm already deciding what I need to work on and tell myself and how to behave so these men (who, I can readily admit, are the biggest idiots and douches out there) will like me! This is problem. I don't want to have to play some stupid manipulative game.

I need this mancation. A well deserved break from acting "approachable yet aloof". That's hard work. I want to just let my hair down. Or, more like, put it in a ponytail. I want to be myself and hang with the people who can see and love that self. And that is all.

For now.



*according to the world wide web, mancation is a vacay for men. according to me, it is a vacay from them.

The Lady in Spain

Felicidades España!

I adore Ingrid Michaelson. Spain winning La Copa del Mundo is as good an excuse as any to play this delightful song.



I can be
anything that I see
I can be anything that I
anything that I see...

I'm sure these lyrics are all the rage in Spain as they revel in their World Cup gana. No doubt.

Newsies

In New York, we have multiple free newspapers. Every morning people hand out 2 of said freebies in the subway stations. Aggressively.

I stopped taking the papers because:

1- I'm on a crossword puzzle break.

2- There are sometimes offensive ads (like for that website that facilitates married people cheating... and it shall not be named on this blog) and there is no reason to get any crankier in the morning.

3- If I don't end up reading the paper I still have to carry it around.

Anywho.

At the first station, where I squeeze my body onto the subway, there is this dude that stands directly in my path, in front of the top of the stairs. He tries to hand the paper out and I say "no thanks" everyday and push past him.

When I arrive at my stop, after practicing my defensive line skills and making my way off the train, there is a man handing out the same paper and yelling, "free, free, free, free, free, free, free!".

Then again, "free, free, free, free, free, free, free!".

I keep walking.

Every morning this week, this overly-caffeinated newsie was yelling, "LeBron, LeBron, LeBron, LeBron, LeBron, LeBron, LeBron!".

And then again, "LeBron, LeBron, LeBron, LeBron, LeBron, LeBron, LeBron!".

There you have it people. I don't need to read the Metro or AM. I get my headlines yelled at me and drilled into my head. Reading becomes an unnecessary task.

*In reality I now read my news online on my INCREDIBLE new phone outfitted with the handy dandy world wide web wherever I go. Except in the subway. Drat.

Some real news: Manhattan is getting a Target.

B-A-N-A-N-A-S

anticipation kills

In two short weeks I'm leaving on a jet-plane on vacay! My college girlfriends and I have been planning a mini-reunion for over a year now. We're all heading down to a lake in Louisiana where we've rented out cabins.

Camping, if you will.

My version of camping includes beds, running water, a roof, electricity, loads of bug spray, and a kitchen. So Parent Trap-esque. Obvi. I am interested in attempting that other kind of camping I've heard so much about. Someday.

The point is, I'm uber excited to see so many besties that I haven't seen in ages & years. You know the kind of friends that last a lifetime? When you see each other it's like no time has passed and you can pick up right where you left off? Yeah, that's what it's like when I see these girls. We all lead busy lives in various cities and states and we don't talk as often as we used to. I haven't even met most of the kids that will be there and barely know the husbands. We keep in touch via Facebook photos, mass emails, and an occasional phone call or text. I know if I update my profile pic, I'll get comments from my girls. And when one of them gets a haircut with bangs... I'm all over that.

I really can't wait for my Louisiana vacay - in the sweltering heat, with insects galore, and oil already in our lake - because it's basically bound to be sensational.

For Vienna

As much as I loved to hate Vienna (of the Bachelor for those of you who live in, on, or under a rock) a few months ago... I now feel surprisingly empathetic towards her. Consider this heart warmed.
In light of that fuzzy fact, I would like to share my most fave bad-break-up song ever. EVER. It is my freedom song and I'm lending it to Vienna for now.

Beach bum

This weekend I'll be going from here

to here

be jealous.

[I know what you're thinking. And, yes, that is the Jersey Shore sans Snooki. It's better and cleaner that way.]