11.30.2007

Friday November 30, 2007

You know what all my stop-dressing-like-an-undergrad outfits have in common?  Psychotic embrace of all neutral colors, that's what.  And today is no exception:

SANY0142
Navy blue cardigan, brown tweed dress, grey tights, honey-brown cowboy boots.

Perhaps tomorrow, I'll branch out and wear a color.  But only one.  Wouldn't want to be hasty.  That could cause me to break out in hives.


The lovely freakshow of The Smoking Gun has no qualms about dressing for the occasion, especially when the occasion is arrest and booking.  Who regrets their ironic t-shirt NOW, Mr. Pervy Uncle #8? 

11.29.2007

Thursday November 29, 2007

S.D.L.A.U. for today:
SANY0138 SANY0139
Bronze flats, skinny jeans, long baby-blue tank, grey v-neck, new navy blue cardigan, necklace made of a bunch of old earrings I looped onto a turquoise necklace I never wore.



Random:  the crying needs to stop.  Right fucking now.  I have never been a box of hormones, but the birth control pill I'm on right now seems to put an exorbitant amount of estrogen into my system, as I've started weeping at nothing lately.
Kay Jewelry commercials on the treadmill make me tear up.
Hell, I even got misty over NPR's revisted commentary of A FOOTBALL GAME, for chrissakes.  I swear, this week I'll probably see a little kid trip on the sidewalk and burst into wails.  I would like my dry, cold, empty tear ducts back, please.

11.28.2007

Wednesday November 28, 2007

Stop Dressing Like An Undergrad, you're almost done with your first quarter of grad school!

SANY0134
Maryjanes with patent-leather cap toes, my favorite jeans (even though they fall over my hips when they stretch out- I'm forgiving like that), Libertine t-shirt, grey cashmere cardigan, pearls.



Pearls? Or rather, the plastic beaded necklace I got for $3.80 at some horrific teenybopper store that I put on today in an effort to be "ladylike".
SANY0135

treet
(oh, and that tentacle grabbing my left breast is not a bodysnatcher.  It's the tree print on this Libertine t-shirt.)

Wednesday November 28, 2007

Noah's translation of the following Cute Fight:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTFrY65xrdk&rel=1]

Panda A- "I am so furry!"
Panda B- "I also have lots of fur!"
Panda A- "I will roll upon you in a cute manner."
Panda B- "I have poorly developed motor skills."
Panda A- "I have not really learned to stand yet."
Panda B- "I would just like to cuddle."

11.26.2007

Monday November 26, 2007

Last night, I was beat out by ONE MEASLY SECOND on ebay for a particular Marc Jacobs watch I've been stalking.  As a consolation prize, I've decided that I don't have enough shoes.  (What?  They all still fit in my closet, and it's a small closet!)

I've gazed adoringly at over-the-knee flat boots for a few years now, and although I'm certain that thigh-high suede is not the most practical late-November footwear, look!  They're on sale!  And they're over-the-knee boots that no self-respecting hooker would wear!
clboot


And wait a minute, I don't own any grey boots!  I can totally fix that!
TRACA_GREY-LEATHER_large

It's not an addiction, it's a hobby.  I swear.

11.25.2007

Sunday November 25, 2007

Five... more... days...

Although last year's effort at NaBloPoMo did generate a few things that I'd consider worthwhile (generally aided by lots of coffee and free time at work "composing emails" / writing that day's entry on the sly), this year seems to be a plodding series of thirty useless, barely strung-together sentences of no real value.  Be prepared for more of the same in the next five days, as it's definitely past time for a creative breakthrough.


Good Intentions Fail at Mile Two:
I've started running with a little bit of effort once again.  It's saddening and frustrating at this point, because when I hit that second mile or that first small hill, my body starts whining "noooooo, this is too haaaaaard!" and my breath control goes all wonky and my ankles start to hurt a bit and too often, I just slow down to a walk.  Ok, I know I haven't run with any regularity since about 2002, and that I hit my running peak in 2000/2001, but:  from someone who once wound down after a day at work with a five-mile run along the Mississippi and who looked forward to the seven-and-a-half mile weekend runs, this sucks.  And this frustrates me, and the anticipation of my frustration makes me want to not run, which is a lovely self-defeating loop.  Maybe new running shoes could be the incentive I need to get out of the apartment and take a loop around the park before class a few times a week?


OMG TMI:
There's a reason that the box of chocolatey calcium chews warns against eating more than four each day.  An uncomfortable, unable-to-poop reason.

11.24.2007

Saturday November 24, 2007

A few weeks ago, my parents visited Cincinnati for the first time.  While traversing the city, a sample conversation went like this:

Dad:  So, what are the major industries of Cincinnati?
Me:  I have no idea.

Mom:  Is McMillan Road named after someone?  A senator?  A mayor?
Me:  I have no idea.

Dad:  What's the metro-area population of Cincinnati?
Me:  I have no idea.

Mom:  When was Clifton incorporated into Cincinnati?
Me:  I haven't the slightest idea.

Dad:  How many square acres is Burnet Woods?
Me:  GODDAMN IT, I DON'T KNOW!

11.23.2007

Friday November 23, 2007

Although I know it's Buy-Nothing Day:

Apple has a sale
+
American Apparel has a sale
=
hipster paradise.  (ooooh, thigh-high socks!)

Sorry, Reverend Billy.

11.22.2007

Thursday November 22, 2007

SANY0122
Cipollini onion and blue cheese tart



SANY0121
Nutmeg, ginger, and cranberry tart


...well, YOU try to have only one serving.

11.21.2007

Wednesday November 21, 2007

Possibly the most inappropriate thing ever for a gynecologist to say, immediately after removing a speculum from my catbag:

"well, that was quick!  Wham, bam, thank you ma'am!"


... if she were anything but a youngish female gyno, I'd be so weirded out.

11.20.2007

Tuesday November 20, 2007

Thank you, Mrs. Kennedy, for giving me permission to post about shoes when my brain is too fried from 1) bourbon at the bar on Monday, 2) waking up at 7 a.m. on Tuesday, and 3) fourteen hours of work today to write anything interesting, witty, or useful.

So, today:
chucks
Black chucks, to make up for the sixteen hours of running around in boots with 4" heels (badly in need of re-heeling) on Monday.  Feet say "THANK YOU!", even though I look in the mirror today with my stretched-out jeans, my dirty hair that smells of smoke, and my ratty black sweater, and say "wow, time to start posting your Stop Dressing Like An Undergrad* photos again to get your ass back in presentable form".


*although I did not actually wear chucks in undergrad.  They're a recent acquisition, but something about them make me feel 17 and high school-y.

11.19.2007

Monday November 19, 2007

At 9:45 this morning, with a 1:00 presentation looming, Courtney and I decided that adding a video in to the powerpoint could not be that hard, right?

At 11:00 this morning, we realized that neither of us has ever used Final Cut Pro.

At 11:45 this morning, I managed to edit and insert a video clipette into our presentation.

At 12:00, the video clipette plays perfectly in the Mac lab.

And at 1:15, the video steadfastly refuses to play mid-presentation, despite having worked a mere seventy-five minutes prior, on a Mac, in the same building.

Then a lectern came crashing down on my right shin, and I cursed really loudly to divert everyone's attention from the Great Video Failure of 2007.


We'd so best get an 'A'.

11.18.2007

Sunday November 18, 2007

This weekend, Noah discovered our oven.  And, for the first time in his life, he baked.  And not in a half-assed way, oh no:  I came home from "Wonderful Town" last night to a freshly baked red pepper and romano quiche and a cherry pie (topped with a brown sugar egg wash, and served with real whipped cream, no less!).
This morning, he made popovers.  From scratch.


This kind of thing might be why the scale says I gained 13 pounds in the last two weeks.  Or, the scale might just be evil and wrong, and I will be able to eat four popovers with jam for breakfast every day without consequence!  I vote for Option B.

11.17.2007

Saturday November 17, 2007

Today, I am steadfastly refusing to Stop Dressing Like An Undergrad- until I head out for a show this evening.

In the interim, it's gold leather Chucks (about as glam-rock as sneakers can be, I suppose), jeans, a navy v-neck from Old Navy ($10, suckas!), and a thick grey cardigan stolen from Noah.  And unwashed hair.  Man, I look goooood.
(Before going to see "Wonderful Town" tonight, I'll be sure to put on something a bit more... pretty, and less "yes, I'm a college sophomore.")



Favorite quote of the day, from my boss:
"Dot org?  That's bullshit!  Dot org is the poor man's dot com!"

11.16.2007

Friday November 16, 2007

Have you seen the Victoria's Secret air-Angels-bra commercial?  Where the brunette in a faux accent does a limerick about her tits?

Yeah, the one where they rhyme "lighter than air" with "filled with air".  Would it be so hard to have changed a portion of that rhyme to "boys will stare" or "anti-glare"?



P.S.- how is it even probable that doing my nails at 11 pm last night and then doing nothing more strenuous than reading a book before bed caused me to wake up this morning with heavily chipped nail polish?  Did I sabotage myself by punching the wall in my sleep, or what?

11.15.2007

Thursday November 15, 2007

Last night, between getting flour all over myself and "homework"/gossip at Courtney's, I bitched to her that my Cardigan Quest was thwarted.  Not a single crewneck cardigan in the world for me, I moaned!
Not one to admit shopping defeat, Courtney then brought up the Old Navy website to prove to me that yes, there are lovely button-up sweaters out there, just waiting for me.  Also, the Gap has heard my plea and sold me this cardigan today (it is cropped, but not obnoxiously so, and especially for layering, this could turn out to be a good idea).  Old Navy provided me a black v-neck ribbed cardigan, which I wish were navy blue, but I supposed navy isn't much more of a "real color" than black is.  At least I'm wearing more grey this fall:  baby steps, friends.

Motherfucking deliciousness:

cranberryum          cipollini_recipe
I plan to make both a bastard version of this cranberry Martha tart (bastardized with ginger and nutmeg over cinnamon, as cinnamon and I are mortal enemies), and Lucques' cipollini and blue cheese tart for Thanksgiving.  And nothing else.  Pastry adventures, ahoy!

11.14.2007

Wednesday November 14, 2007

It's 60 degrees and pleasant here.  In the middle of November.  Well, I suppose Cincinnati isn't all bad, then.
SANY0119
Grey 3/4 sleeve tshirt (which was hip-length and long-sleeved when I bought it, but apparently decided that the dryer is a mortal enemy), sparkly navy blue sweater dress bunched up as tunic (yeah, neither the "sparkle" nor the "navy blue" are really discernible in this photo, but trust me, they're there- and I'm totally planning to wear this over dark grey tights as a dress with some serious boots), high-rise jeans, gold peep-toe flats.


The sweater tunic/dress was a recent Forever 21 purchase, and after shopping that day, I felt uncomfortably first-world.  I'd gone to MAC to get more eyeliner and foundation, and to Sephora for mascara, and by the time I left the mall, I realized I'd just spent over $100 on disposable, unnecessary things without really considering it.  In what situation is it REALLY necessary for me to shell out $30 for foundation?  Or $20 for mascara?  At what point did the 99-cent drugstore brand eyeliner stop being 'good enough' for me?
And why do I feel like these are normal purchases?  I know that the rest of the world does not have the luxury to go drop $75 at a makeup counter (well, yes, I know that "the rest of the (third) world" does not even have $75 in disposable income), and to do so, even on a grad-loans budget, makes me feel a little uncomfortably squishy in the moral area. 
(The Moral Area is found next to the kidneys.)

Some of this is residual guilt from the weekend:  parents visiting means that I have the opportunity to eat really well and get fancy groceries.  And I'm old enough now that what was once a lovely generous impulse towards their college-age kids now seems to make me... well, spoiled.  And I've never felt spoiled before, but now, it seems that I should be beyond the age of accepting rather extravagant "help" from the family without some consternation. 

This doesn't mean that I'm going to return the bottles of cava, mind you, but perhaps that I'm going to be very aware of the fact that I'm extremely lucky and remind myself to send more letters to my parents.

11.13.2007

Tuesday November 13, 2007

Wanted:  perfect slim, crewneck, washable cardigans in black, dark grey, and navy blue.

For such a preppy staple, it's insanely and inexplicably hard to procure.  Banana Republic?  Gap?  J Crew?  The Limited?  Target?  (oh, and I know that there are cashmere cardigans out in the world, but the point is to not spend $200 on a sweater that I've got to shell out to dryclean as well.)

Everyone seems to make a cardigan... with sparkly buttons and a v-neck and leopard print.  I'm going to park myself in Mustardseed after class tomorrow until someone comes in with a stack of perfect cotton/wool blend sweaters.  And then I will sucker-punch them and run off with an armful of cardigans.

11.12.2007

Monday November 12, 2007

One should not really bitch about the wifi that one "borrows" from a neighbor generous enough to unwillingly leave their connection unsecured, but goddamn, it's going to be a pain to get through NaBloPoMo with any sort of certainty if the internet connection keeps dying at the exact moment I say "shit!  I haven't blogged yet today!".

Also:
this makes it really hard to watch streaming episodes of "Gossip Girl" and figure out how to acheive perfect Blair Waldorf Lips.

lipsomg

11.11.2007

Sunday November 11, 2007

Possbily the number one thing that theatre staff should never, ever say when describing a re-interpretation/adaptation/staging of "A Christmas Carol": 

"well, it ain't your daddy's Dickens!"

11.10.2007

Saturday November 10, 2007

Parents in town.  Free food.  Thorougly distended gastrointestinal system.

sausage

Holy sausages, batman.  We're just back from the Meat-Fest that is Boi Na Braza, and though I was not able to eat more than two pounds of steak, sausage, cured ham, and bacon-wrapped whatnots, I will say that it was well worth it.  While waiting for the parents to join us at the bar, I figured that splurging on a nice glass of champagne would be acceptable, as we would not be picking up the dinner tab. 

A) you know it's trouble when they don't give you a wine list, it's just verbalized
B) since when does a 187 ml of champagne cost $18, especially a brand I can easily pick up at the liquor store?
C) whatever, worth it.

It's 9:30 on a Saturday night and I'm going to lie down in a parmesan-encrusted pork loin coma now.

11.09.2007

Friday November 9, 2007

Our apartment building has a mini-gym of sorts in the basement.  It's super-convenient, except that mostly, when I get home at the end of my day, I do not feel like putting on a sports bra and clomping downstairs to spend quality time with the elliptical machine.

I did not feel motivated, that is, until I realized that the workout room has a tv positioned in front of the treadmill.  And on tv, one can find Law & Order SVU, CSI NY, and other gory programs of delight. 

If it's 10 pm, you can find me jogging my little heart out, engrossed in this week's serial killer stories.  Which is a little counterproductive, really, since the basement is kind of creepy and then I freak out a little about being the person in this week's L&O to find the dead body splayed across the basement window.

11.08.2007

Thursday November 8, 2007

I got my hair cut today (for the first time since June, regrettably), and once again, I look like myself.  Because myself's hair is the lovechild of Anna Mae Wong, Louise Brooks, and Anna Wintour, and to pretend otherwise only leads to ill-advised styling accidents.
(while the salon guy was working on me, he made the comment that I have "a baby's hair".  Yes, I do have straight, fine hair.  But is "baby hair" a compliment or an insult?)

I came home, and with the blondish tips (damn you, summer sunlight on Lake Michigan!) removed, the roots of my normal hair vs. summer sun exposure hair were damnably obvious.  So, as any logical girl that lives next to a CVS would do, I went and purchased some dye.

Except Garnier's "dark brown" seems to have becomes "jesus christ that's pitch-fucking-black!", aka "you are now Snow White's stand-in".

SANY0115

Hey, what's up with the gloves, you say?
I saw this gorgeous shot on LadyLessons and decided to dedicate my week to stalking ebay for elbow-length leather gloves.  And oh, the packages I got this week!
SANY0110
(grey v-neck sweater over long black tank, leather gloves, jeans, and unseen black leather stiletto boots.)

Today's outfit does not live up to the awesomeness of the gloves, I'm afraid, but I plan to rock them out with a vintage silk dress in the very near future.  And gesture wildly all night while doing so.

11.07.2007

Wednesday November 7, 2007

Why the hell was Tuesday's font so small?  Only RichText Editor knows, and he isn't talking.  Sigh.

Today:  NaBloShoeMo!

SANY0108
New favorite brown patent-leather mary janes with light blue socks, because it is cold out, and because the blue socks match the headscarf match the blue mascara.  When I wear a "real color", I wear that color to death.

11.06.2007

Tuesday November 6, 2007

I completely misread this AP headline as “Italy Breaks Up With European Terror Cell”.
What, did the terrorists forget your birthday?  Were they rude to your mom?  Ohmygod, Chem class is going to be soooo awkward now that The Terrorists aren’t dating Italy any more.  Are we going to have to choose new lab partners so they don’t have to work on the inert gases project together?
 
Hey, you know what I did not miss at all about being in school?  The midnight freakouts of ‘I’m going to get a C in this class and then my GPA will go down and then I will lose my scholarships and then I will have to drop out of school and then my life will be ruined and I’ll just be a secretary/waitress/prostitute for the rest of my life’.  Especially now that those freakouts are accompanied by the knowledge that I will be taking math-heavy classes for the next seven quarters to get this damn MBA, and that each and every quarter I will be holding my breath when grades are posted, hoping that I will both pass the class and keep my scholarship.  Wow, that’s fun.  I must be really pleasant to live with.  Sorry, Noah.
There are some things in my life that do not cause hyperventilation and slamming down of heavy textbooks that send the cat careening under the bed, and chief among those things are:
Friday night’s opening party at the CAC.  In light of last weekend’s utterly shit gallery opening, I am politely requesting that the Odita opening kick major ass to make up for my art-opening disappointments.  Also, it is an excuse to wear a pretty pretty dress and pretend to be important.
Saturday night’s dinner reservation w the parents at Boi Na Braza.  Yes, I know it’s a chain, and yes, I know it’s a glorified buffet.  However, the words “all you can eat chorizo” are magic words.

Tuesday November 6, 2007

I completely misread this AP headline as “Italy Breaks Up With European Terror Cell”.
What, did the terrorists forget your birthday?  Were they rude to your mom?  Ohmygod, Chem class is going to be soooo awkward now that The Terrorists aren’t dating Italy any more.  Are we going to have to choose new lab partners so they don’t have to work on the inert gases project together?
 
Hey, you know what I did not miss at all about being in school?  The midnight freakouts of ‘I’m going to get a C in this class and then my GPA will go down and then I will lose my scholarships and then I will have to drop out of school and then my life will be ruined and I’ll just be a secretary/waitress/prostitute for the rest of my life’.  Especially now that those freakouts are accompanied by the knowledge that I will be taking math-heavy classes for the next seven quarters to get this damn MBA, and that each and every quarter I will be holding my breath when grades are posted, hoping that I will both pass the class and keep my scholarship.  Wow, that’s fun.  I must be really pleasant to live with.  Sorry, Noah.
There are some things in my life that do not cause hyperventilation and slamming down of heavy textbooks that send the cat careening under the bed, and chief among those things are:
Friday night’s opening party at the CAC.  In light of last weekend’s utterly shit gallery opening, I am politely requesting that the Odita opening kick major ass to make up for my art-opening disappointments.  Also, it is an excuse to wear a pretty pretty dress and pretend to be important.
Saturday night’s dinner reservation w the parents at Boi Na Braza.  Yes, I know it’s a chain, and yes, I know it’s a glorified buffet.  However, the words “all you can eat chorizo” are magic words.

11.05.2007

Monday November 5, 2007

O.S.D.L.A.U.


SANY0105
Black cardigan, black crew-neck t-shirt, tweed side-button skirt, black tights, red patent-leather boots.  Yes, the tights do make this a bit less pretty, but my 6:00 art history lecture is always freezing, and I'm not about to sit there in misery for three hours. 
Need: many more soft cashmere cardigans, as I've taken to wearing the hell out of this black one.  Also very much need a haircut, as my bangs are nearly down to my nose (they are currently in a semipermanent state of being pulled back with a bobby pin, which really does not look good on me), and my hair is nearly hitting my shoulders.

11.04.2007

Sunday November 4, 2007

It's been a while since I've had a Bus Tale of my own (what with the owning of a car now), but I generally take the 17 to work about 3 days a week in Cincinnati.
This week, while en route to the Contemporary Arts Center, my bus driver decided to display her OCD (which would seem to be an impediment to BEING A BUS DRIVER, what with the uncleanliness and the general mis-rule of the public transit system in Cincinnati) by following the entry of each passenger by her copious spraying of Febreeze onto the entry terminal.  Worse yet, the Febreeze was not unscented, but Fresh Raspberry Meadow Hellhole Febreeze, or something equally faux-fruitful.
I debated exiting the bus seventeen blocks early and just walking to work from there to escape the overpowering berry-ness.

P.S.:  Febreeze does not disinfect anything, dumbass.  It just makes my scarf smell like cheap synthetic fruit all day long, and does nothing to prevent your acquisition of MRSA or other scary superbugs that I will not choose to think about when using the presumably infected elliptical trainer in our basement workout room.

11.03.2007

Saturday November 3, 2007

Worn today for a few hours of development work at Know, then on to the WORST GALLERY OPENING EVER.  (Tiny, awkward space?  yes.  Four gallery attendees?  yes.  "Art" was really the scrawled robot drawings of a homeless guy who pestered the gallery for a show?  yes.  Refreshments?  NO.)

SANY0098
SANY0099

Black v-neck sweater (not navy blue, despite the first photo) over long grey tank, skinny jeans, black patent-leather cap-toe mary janes, orange Jelly Kelly bag that was my "it's my birthday and I'm buying it!" present four years ago.  Rumpling done by my uncomfortable desk at work.

11.02.2007

Friday November 2, 2007

Lesson learned today:
when wearing a too-big skirt over a satin slip, make sure to wear a trench coat over your ensemble. It will camouflage the fact that with each step you take, your skirt comes closer and closer to falling off.

Friday November 2, 2007

Because I'm at work from 9 am-11 pm today, I'm slacking off and simply linking to an exhibition I'm très excited for. 

DSCF4008_1

FLOW by Odili Donald Odita (at the CAC) opens Nov 9, and I am all anticipatory for the opening-night party. The lobby is currently in the process of becoming amazing and fabulous (see?).
Also, due to my internship, I now get invites for art openings around town.  It's amazing how easy it is to fool people into thinking that you're at all of importance.

11.01.2007

Thursday November 1, 2007

Happy NaBloPoMo, bitches. 

I believe that tonight, midterm grades for Stats will be announced.  In order to deal with this, I felt it necessary to bring out the lam
é pants.  Yes, I know they're leggings, but if I keep calling them 'pants', I'll feel better about wearing them to a three-hour math lecture tonight.

SANY0093  SANY0095
(I don't know how the photo on the right got all washed out and angsty.  I'm not that emo, I swear.)

Black bubble-dress hoodie (thanks for the Mike & Chris knockoff, Old Navy!), long black v-neck tshirt, black lam
é leggings, black patent flats.

Clean and shiny floors courtesy Noah, who I convinced to clean.  Score.