2.27.2007

Tuesday February 27, 2007

Why, oh why, do pretty things exist in my head by not in reality (when "reality" = shops within 5 miles of my house)?  I'm constantly getting obsessed by a shirt or pair of pants or jacket or pair of shoes that have popped into my brain, and that I must have now.  It's not as if I am designing unheard-of, wacky outfits- it's things like the greatest pair of jeans that will never exist, and a sexy yet downy winter coat, and the simple idea of a nice, tonal-striped t-shirt, and yet they never materialize to be purchased. 
The stripey t-shirt is my latest obsession:  I just want a moderately wide-striped t-shirt with grey & black (or even grey & navy!  or grey & blue!  I'm not picky!) stripes.  American Apparel, Forever 21, H&M, Macy's, Urban Outfitters, and the Gap have all come up short in my search.  I saw this lovely contender on Alternative Apparel, but it's a wholesale site and although I do love the look, I'm not quite ready to commit to a pallet of t-shirts.
Help a girl out if you've seen something like this in a store somewhere- I'm getting all twitchy with longing.

(and oh, those gorgeous kelly green snakeskin flats?  Seems they ONLY come in vapid seafoam green, and the gorgeous rich green in the NYMag photo is a fluke of lighting.  This I find after calling various shoe stores in Manhattan to track them down, Visa in hand.  Yes, I am pathetic.  I nearly shed a tear to learn that the pretty color is a figment of "artistic lighting".)


I've signed up to take the GRE on March 10th, and my preparation strategy is essentially "buy one study book, open it to the vocab page, skim, and then go make a cocktail and be distracted by the internets".  I'm rationalizing this by saying that only Yale's MFA portion of the dual degree requires the GRE, and that my shot of getting into Yale is nearly nil, even if I do get a perfect GRE score, so why waste time on studying that could otherwise be spent honing the mix of sweetened condensed milk to espresso in a Thai coffee?


Last weekend, I thought about driving to WI to visit Noah, but the Giant Fucking Snowstorm Prediction made me stay home.  This coming weekend, he's planning to drive to Mpls to see me (and we haven't seen eachother since Goddamn New Year's Day, btw)- so what's the top story on startribune.com?  "Another Big Winter Storm Predicted for Weekend".  Fuck that noise, Weather.  A girl needs to get laid.  Hey, I'm not shelling out for birth control pills each month for nothing, here.

2.25.2007

Sunday February 25, 2007

Last night for dinner, I fried up an entire package of bacon and tossed it with a quarter of a roast chicken into some lovely white bean soup.
Tonight, I had a rice wine & chili-marinated steak.

Yes, the transition back from Decade of Veggie to the Amusement Park of Flesh is going swimmingly.

2.20.2007

Tuesday February 20, 2007

girly things that have changed my life:
the MAC foundation brush.  I'm dewy now!  And fresh-faced!  Holy shit, this little (and expensive) sable brush is genius.  I'm using just one tiny dot of foundation now, and yet it looks fabulous.  There has to be some super high-tech secret hidden in this brush to explain its wonders.
Victoria's Secret "Secret Embrace" bras.  A goodly portion of their powers is probably because I have bras in the correct size now, rather than squooshing my breasts into something two sizes too small.  Even aside from getting a bra in the correct size is the utter kick-ass-ness of these bras:  they're ungodly smooth and free of tags and even I can't nip out through them, which is nothing short of miraculous.  I look happily stacked in the Scarlett Johanssen way (though I can't stand her, her breasts are quite nice) rather than a Jayne Mansfield way.  Yes, the name is lame ("sssh, don't tell!  it's a Top-Secret Tits Project!"), but they are comfy beyond belief and come in sexy but not tawdry lacy patterns.
 
I know, that was all a little Daily Candy of me, but truly, these two things have shocked me in their utility and awesomeness.  And yeah, they're pricey, but for once, worth it.
 
Also in the realm of ultra-girly (not UltraGrrl, which is another thing entirely):  Lace Tape, as seen on Design Boner.  And not just because I love the name of the site.  I want to have many, many things to put in small boxes just so I can seal it with pinup-worthy lacy tape.
 
As exciting as it is to do preliminary apartment-searching on Craigslist for possible grad school housing, each day I'm thinking of a new thing I'm going to miss about Mpls (other than people, obvs):
The Red Dragon, Liquor Lyle's, One Yoga, the Wedge, the downtown library, Everyday People, light rail to the airport, Solera happy hour, Caffetto, walking around Lake of the Isles and Calhoun, the Sea Salt eatery, the 112, Fifth Element, the Uptown theater, Kowalski's, Pazzobello flowers, the Walker, music & movies in Loring Park in the summer, cranberry-cream cheese wontons at Azia, 2-4-1's all day every day at Pancho Villa, the Jungle Theatre, Smoo & Emmo & Hartl's old house, Shuang Hur, Sonny's Ice Cream, Pizza Luce.....
wow, I'm going to keep going and get all nostalgic before I even actually move. 

2.19.2007

Monday February 19, 2007

Cincinnati recap:

well, if the other interviewees' outfits are anything to go by, I'm definitely in. Exhibit A: girl with a bad, brassy dye job and 3" roots and the tight-ghetto ponytail (but she was decidedly un-ghetto), worn with tan character shoes, sheer white pantyhose (that is wrong in so many ways), burgundy tweed dumpy skirt, RED tweed jacket, and some sort of blouse that felt it necessary to have stand-up Shakespeare ruffles around the neck and all down the front of the shirt and encircling the cuffs. It made my soul cry just thinking of the outfits she must've discarded when choosing that one.
Exhibit B: Miss Cali, in her 4" patent leather slingbacks ("I just sprained my ankle, but I didn't want to wear flats!") and her grey skirt suit. The skirt suit would've been rather nice, had it not been unfortunately accessorized by 8 yards of baby-blue satin ribbon on every seam (the jacket even tied with a blue satin ribbon!) and three layers of ruffles on the bottom of the skirt. In my head, I referred to her as My First Interview Barbie.
Yes, I'm a catty bitch. Point being?

In all seriousness, I do think I got in to UCincinnati this past weekend. I'm thinking of them as my #4 choice (behind Madison, Yale, and the Art Institute), but I'd be pretty pleased to go there. Plus, apts in Cincinnati are hella cheap, and there is a Trader Joe's. That's important. I'll hear from them in about three weeks, and hopefully get a "yes" + graduate assistantship to take care of that teeny little problem of $.


Two stories from downtown Cincinnati, neither one heartwarming:
On Saturday night, post-interview and post-dinner, I change back into jeans and sneakers and make a quick run to the CVS on the corner for a pint of Haagen-Daaz, which I plan to eat out of the carton whilst propped up in bed with 6 pillows, watching Law & Order. Granted, I'm pretty buzzed from my multiple beers with dinner, so I'm not really paying attention to the counter lady as she rings up my Dulce du Leche treat. As she begins to count out my change, I notice that she's talking: "stupid. ugly. stupid. ugly. stupid. stupid. ugly." I'm more confused than insulted by this arrangement, and as she turns to hand me my change, she looks right at me and says "Ugly! Stupid! Have a nice night!"
God, I hope it was Tourette's.

Sunday morning at 4:45! in the morning! I'm waiting just outside my hotel for a cab to the airport. A skeevy-looking woman in cheap spike heels is tottering over to the valet, asking for a light. She smokes and tries to stay upright, and then starts yelling "pow! right in the kisser!" over, and over, and over, and over.... probably a dozen times before a homeless guy comes up to the woman I've now decided is a hooker and asks for change. She hugs him and yells "Pow! Right in the kisser!" again, and at this point, two well-dressed middle-aged men come out of the hotel and prop her up. One says "baby, where'd you go? I woke up and you weren't there! C'mon back inside and we'll have some more fun" as the other grabs her ass.
1) why are you still wearing a suit at 4:45 am, sirs? If you're alternately fucking a hooker and sleeping, wouldn't you remove the suit to avoid wrinkles?
2) if you can afford a nice hotel and a nice suit, why can't you splurge on a decent-looking whore? Priorities, man.