Two things that piss me off
1. the existence of Rachel Zoe, "stylist to the celebutards". She looks like an emaciated stick of geriatric beef jerky, and this Times magazine feature on her today does absolutely nothing to redeem her in any fashion:
"I love Paris,” Zoe said as she studied the menu. “If I spoke the language, I’d live here.” She looked up at the waitress, who had appeared at the table. “Can you do crudité?” Zoe said. The waitress looked confused. “You did it yesterday. With cucumber. If not, I guess a salad, no dressing.” The waitress still looked confused. “You see,” Zoe said to me, “there’s just too much of a communication barrier.”
...Zoe looked down at her plate. Steamed vegetables were fanned around a small dollop of sauce. “What is this?” she asked. Zoe picked up her untouched plate and beckoned the waitress. “I need to send this back,” she said. “Bring it to me without the sauce, please.”
2. the Alice Temperley for Target collection. LAME. I got up at the ass-crack of dawn today to go and check her line out, and everything is either I Love Ruffles! or just cheaply, poorly constructed. Bad seaming, bad material (the crepe pants are an abomination), nothing is lined, and the hard-to-fuck-up military jacket is supremely unflattering. Not worth setting an alarm for 7 a.m.* to track down.
After napping through most of the afternoon, I got up to make lunch. I thought I'd saute some chicken sausage and have that with leftover tabbouleh. Until, that is, I took the chicken sausage out of the fridge and noticed that the unopened package had swelled up like a balloon about to pop. Expiration date: Sept 6th. Oops. Time to make emergency quesedillas.
*though the Temperley run was a total bust, there is something rather wonderful about doing Target errands at 8 a.m. when you're the only person in the store. Kind of "Vanilla Sky"-esque, but without the involvement of Tom Cruise and his giant teeth.
Last night was the welcome bbq at Alan's house (Alan runs the program, and he and his wife are also fabulous hosts). I ate an ENTIRE cheeseburger with pickles, and it was delish. Yay, meat.
I also got to sit back and put on my judgement face and form first-impression opinions of my classmates. There are some who I already know I will love and enjoy, there are some I'm on the fence about, and there are some who I have decided are just going to irk me with their mere presence. As we'll be a class of a dozen or so, and I'll have to work very closely with them for the next two years, I'll have to get over my initial dislike for a few people and suck it up. And then trash them with other people over drinks and anonymously on the internet, because I'm a bitch like that.