Girls.

This weekend it was GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS.

On Saturday I had a girly-party at my apartment. What a wonderful thing: girly parties. Lots of good food, plenty of wine, dresses, pretty necklaces and gossip about boys... obviously. I have no pictures, but just imagine that it looked like something on Pinterest. It didn't, but just imagine it did anyway.

Some a-hole prevented Julie from coming in for the weekend (since she was supposed to come on Friday) so my brunch date with Julie and Michelle on Sunday turned into lunch with Michelle on Sunday. What did I have? Heaven.

 

In case you're wondering what that is, it's an open faced smoked ham and Monterey Jack cheese sandwich on banana bread with mango chutney from Parish Cafe on Boylston.

 

 

....Nope, Monterey Jack cheese on banana bread definitely tastes as good, possibly better, than skinny feels. But thanks for your input.

 



Then we went shopping and bought perfume.

Afterwards I saw Jessica, and we took a walk around the North End and Waterfront, which I followed up with the last 57 minutes of Sex and the City 2 and an asparagus gruyere tart and carrot cake cupcake as soon as I got home.

What a fantastic weekend.

So fantastic, in fact, that you'd think I would have slept peacefully, likesuchas:

No such luck. Last night I thought there were mice in my room while I was trying to fall sleep. Turns out it was just the wind blowing the string for the blinds all over the wall. Then I woke up at 4am for no reason. Then, I woke up at 6:18am in a panic because I thought I slept past my alarm. I proceeded to wake Alan up in a panic, again. Good thing we still had another whole hour to sleep. It was a tough night all around.

Also, at some point in the night, I took out one of my earrings while I was sleeping. At least I was responsible enough to put the back back on and put it on my nightstand...

...

...What's tough about a blog is that I'm blogging even though nothing that cool happened in my life. So thanks for sticking with it to the end. That was really kind of you.

 

I am most upset, and other updates.

1. HOW... HOW IN GOD'S NAME DID I MISS THIS?

I am le mis.

2. I wonder if every red head in this city knows that I have a crush on them. Seriously.

3. Yesterday, Jessica and I went for a run down Commonwealth and stopped over on Newbury St. to get as close to Boylston St. without being pummeled by the FBI as possible. I didn't take any pictures because I didn't think it was appropriate, but man is it eerie. And it's sad.

4. Knowing that there are so many news anchors here, I've been on the lookout for faces I might recognize. I saw Scott Pelley from CBS news yesterday after my run. He has very dewy skin. Also, I'm pretty sure that for .3 seconds I was on National News because I walked right behind him while the camera was rolling. I hope America saw my high waisted pants, sweaty hair, and general state of disorder and it provided them with a few moments of light laughter and distraction. No autographs, please.

5. Today I thought I saw Anderson Cooper casually eating lunch in Post Office Square. Turns out it was not him. I guess I forgot that if Anderson Cooper were eating lunch in Post Office Square, it wouldn't be so casually.

6. I can't wait until my Fruit & Vegetable CSA starts showing up.

...

 I don't really have any further comments on this, I just want it to start showing up is all.

7. I'm still taking pictures of Winston & Walter.

I realize that it's the same exact picture every time, even though I'm taking them on different days, but I can't stop.

That bean bag is for lovers.

You can smoosh their faces if you want to.

 

Skorts.

Oh, I haven't blogged in months? Well, I was busy.

I got my hair cut, I bought a six month membership to the gym (and went for a solid month...three months ago), ordered a new cook book, and bought a plane ticket to Italy.

I was busy.

Anyway, what's done is done and here I am. Let's hope it sticks. Doubt it will so I'll see you next year.

Last night I went out with a couple girlfriends for Jessica's 27th birthday. It's just so good to be around girls sometimes instead of at home with boys constantly yelling at the TV because A) the Red Sox or the Bruins or the Patriots or any other sports team on the face of this planet that doesn't hail from New York is losing or made a bad pass, B) the Red Sox or Bruins or Patriots are losing on the X Box, or C) because not enough people are dying in any game that may be being played at that moment on the X Box. I just don't get boys.

Anyway, on the way to the bar, I bought a new lipstick. Why? No reason. Just thought I'd like a new lipstick.

First, I needed to try on this exact color*.

Then I had a mini photo shoot. Obnoxious. But now I know: Malibu Barbie Pink belongs only on Malibu Barbie. And on the MAC make-up artists. But on no one else under any circumstances.

It's fine. I selected Grandma Nude (to go with my grandma beige nail polish and all my navy/black/beige/navy/grey/navy/beige clothes). Welcome to my life as a cubicle.

Anyway, after my purchase (and a few white lies about needing a new bronzer so that they would freshen mine up and also about having an identical twin sister *which is why I needed to try the Malibu Barbie pink on "because she might like it") I headed off to the bar.

I was having a great time with all the girls laughing and gabbing and talking about lipsticks and then I heard "I just really wish skorts would come back."

Ahh, the skort. Yes, I remember skorts. Per Urban Dictionary:

      Skort:

        1. a skirty sort of shorts
        2. a mullet for your butt

        Included was a special note that skorts are terminally ugly and also a warning to children that
        skorts are, and always will be, a fashion faux pas.

Sidenote- I stumbled upon this gem as I was googling 'skorts, function over fashion':

 

For all those times you need a table and just don't have one.

 

Anyway, Ciao! (I'm practicing my Italian before my trip that way I don't end up speaking Spanish to the servers like I did in France)

Cookies4lyfe and traveling by turtles.

It has been impossible for me to function this past week without a 'baked goods break' at some point (or three points) during the day. I thought yesterday might be the day that this hot (crossed buns) streak ended, but alas, it wasn't. I stopped on Newbury for a break from shopping, a pot of tea and to read my book. Turns out I you can't just have a pot of tea without a scone.

I was at a training for work two days last week and will be there for two days again this week. I feel like I did back when I was in Chem101 where everything was literally beyond me but I had to pay attention anyway. This class is way better, though, because they give you cookies after lunch. 4" cookies. Yes please, I'll have several.

"Give me cookies or give me death" I dare say.

Ashley and I went to see Grace Potter and the Nocturnals at the House of Blues on Friday. We got there a little after the opening band started mostly because Ash and I stayed at the restaurant a bit longer so we could each have $8 brownies.

The opening band was really good (any band that has banjos is automatically on my top 20 list of favorite bands ever, but this one was especially good). I had no idea who they were but I was convinced 13 seconds in that I was going to buy their album.

I asked the guy next to me who they were, and because the fiddle was goin and the banjo was goin and the whateverotherinstruments were goin, all I heard was "Travel by Turtles." So I told Ashley the name and Google'd "Travel by Turtles." Turns out the band's name is Trampled by Turtles. They play some fast, loud and big folk music. That's for sure.

Grace was super good, too. What wasn't good was the drunk girl in front of us who was "feeling" the music and swaying/jumping way off beat. She was the worst.

Cats.

Doughnuts and cats.

There's nothing really interesting for me to write about but I made Ryan Gosling a promise yesterday that I would blog everyday, so that's what I'm doing for at least today and tomorrow.

1. I went to the gym yesterday which felt nice. I have a cold that I refuse to take medicine for so I think the sweat from my (very) mild run on the treadmill (...whatever) helped to clean my body out a little bit. I feel a lot better today and am not sneezing every 5-6 minutes (sorry co-workers in close proximity).

When I walked into the locker room after my workout, I noticed a sign that I hadn't noticed before:

WHO IS EATING DOUGHNUTS AT THE GYM?!

Weirdos.

2. I found out some bad news yesterday. My mom might not be able to watch the Walking Dead on Sunday. This means I have zero people to text every time something amazing/gross/disgusting/stupid/idiotic/gross/really gross/terrible/disgusting happens. Also, Alan's also going to be in France for a week and a half, so now I don't even have anyone to WATCH it with.

I cannot.

3. A confession but hardly a surprise: I keep taking pictures of my cats.

They literally have a photo shoot once a day. I can't stop and it's becoming pathetic. Not as pathetic as this cat photo shoot, but close.

That's all.

Friday night.

Methinks my first Zumba class will always be awkward.

I started Zumba again Friday night after a brief hiatus. I'm really glad I chose the day after Thanksgiving to start again because being the only person other than the instructor in the studio ensures that there is no obstruction from seeing your whole body in the wall to wall mirror.

The instructor promised me, three times, that there are normally more people in the class. Guess people were just tired from a day of trampling moms with kids and being trampled by moms with kids.

Anyway. I stayed. Partially because I ate three pieces of apple crisp the night before and partially because I felt bad leaving.

So a couple of things.

1. Not much has changed about my physique or my expressions while in motion.

2. I have no business ever being in a Bollywood movie, a salsa club, or the Gangnam Style music video.

3. "White girls can't dance" is a fact (although I do dance a mean ChaCha).

4. My dancing skills are amongst the lowest in the East Coast.

                
         4a. I almost said 'in the country' and then I remembered that these moves exist:

Anyway, after Zumba was over I came home and watched Crazy, Stupid, Love with Alan (hope he's not reading this or he might kill me/ break up with me). He was definitely hating on the movie at first. Then he came around and started laughing at everything Ryan Gosling's character was saying/ doing. Turns out, Alan thinks Ryan's a real man's man.

That's okay. Oh, Ryan Gosling. I love you with your side part even if your hair's not red. Wait... wait. What's that, Ryan? What did you say?

I will blog every day.

Glen Coco

I've submitted a formal recommendation to Alan to rename Walter to Glen Coco.

He will get four treats a day and Winston will get none.

You go, Glen Coco.