Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Come Sit at the Cool Table

Its hump day, I'm going to see Les Mis for the THIRD time, and I've learned that it makes no sense for a single woman to buy a bunch of bananas, they just go bad before I have time to eat the whole bunch. 

So I don't know if I've mentioned this, but I have a dirty little habit of staying up way too late watching clips from The Ellen Show on YouTube. I work one of those nasty 8-5's and don't ever get to see the actual show, so its how I get my fix.
Anywayysss...I was watching last night, Emma Stone was on, and I began my tween dream of "ohmygawd if we met, we would totes be besties forev!" So I started to think what other celebs I would want to exchange friendship bracelets and group texts with.

Allow me to introduce you all to my sisterhood of the traveling louboutins. 

Ladies, this is Em. Em, these are the Ladies. 
Em (thats what all of her bestfrands call her) is SO fun to be around. She can be like, totally deep and still be super hilar. 
We just laugh until we cry together and are basically a walking Cyndi Lauper song. 
All slow mo having the best time ever pushing each other in shopping carts and shit. 
Plus she gets me envy inducing amounts of CoverGirl. 

Everyone, I want to introduce you to J. Law (its a play on J.Lo? like, her name is Jennifer Lawrence and this one time....nevermind, its an inside joke). She is my soul sister. She is dry and sarcastic and says awkward and inappropriate things. Yet, she somehow manages to make it come off charming and endearing, which secretly makes me supes jelly. She doesn't take any of this fame business too seriously and is still J. Law from the block. 

Annie, ohhhh Annie. She really classes up the group. She still swears and dear lawd we can't get her to stop showing off her amazing rack, but outside of that - she is one classy bitch. She brings that super smart, quirky, hipster vibe every flock of ridiculously good looking people needs. Not to mention, we never have to wait in line when we go dancing at the gay clubs. 

Nicki, Roman, whoever she feels like being on whichever given day, I love my big-booty bestie. I mean I can NEVER borrow pants for Em, J.Law, or Annie, but with Nicki this big booty judy stands a chance of squeezing in. Sure, Nicki can get a little ratchet sometimes. I've had to tell her to put her to please unleash the death grip on Mariah's weave and walk away more than once, BUT her wigs are totally boss and Super Bass is my jam.

OH! And Beyonce. Duh. No explanation needed.

Well we're off to go do fabulous things like have lunch at the Ivy while flipping the paps the bird. 
AKA - I'm going into my office caf to steam some broccoli. 

Monday, January 28, 2013

Hyperspeed Monday

Happy Monday!!!

Yes. That was three exclamation points for Monday. 
I've been eating like a rabbit for the past week and my energy levels are through the roof. 
I'm like a kindergartner with pixie stix. 

I got my new car this weekend! I love it. I'm super excited about it. Of course I ended up doing nothing this weekend and it snowed snowflakes the size of of J.Lo's booty yesterday SO I barely drove it and it is no longer perfectly dealership clean. 

So Saturday night my friend Dee came over to watch a movie. 
She does important things like put people's mouths back together after their angry girlfriend takes a louisville slugger to their grill, so she was "on call" and we opted for yoga pants and OnDemand. 
The movie we chose? Muthalovin' craziness. 
The eff bombs gave me whiplash (and that's saying something coming from me).
Dee at one point said, "These cannot be actors. These people are straight off the street gangstERS".
Emphasis on the "er". 
Suburban girls at our finest. 
The worst part for me was the ending. I HATE it when I leave a movie feeling zero closure and zero like the world is full of sexy men riding bareback on unicorns. 
The movie was End of Watch.

Don't let the fact that fiinnnne ass Jake Gyllenhal is in it fool you. 
He's bald in the movie which takes it down to about a 7.
And he like, only has his shirt off once.
We felt cheated.

I'm gonna go run a lap around my office or something now...


Friday, January 25, 2013

Freak on a Leash

Its colder than a witch's tit here.
I'm not saying that to face slap you with screen shots of my weather app....oh wait... 
I know you all are like blahblahblah you live in the frozen tundra we get it, weather updates are more boring than cranberry juice without vodka. 
But I'm telling you all of this because...ITS FREAKSHOW FRIDAY!
Aaaand my freaks of the week are the BATSHIT CAH-RAZY people who are still riding their bikes in this arctic hell hole. 

Yes. I clicked every way to mutate the text so you could understand the insanity that is someone riding their bicycle in negative temperatures.
My emotions have surpassed shock/mildly fascinated and now I'm just pissed/concerned for their mental health.

I'm over here freezing my tits off in the quick jaunt from apt to vehicle and they're all "I'm gonna just slap on some ski goggles and snowpants and peddle my frozen little heart out to work today."
What. The. Efff?!

Reasons this pisses me off:

1. They are making me feel bad about myself. 
I'm over here crying bitch baby tears into my iPhone friendly gloves cuz my car is taking too long to heat up and using negative temps as an excuse to eat copious amounts of mash potatoes and watch Top Chef and Project Runway reruns all day. Yet here comes some polar bear esque human who is just all, "Oh the air that feels like frozen daggers to my face? No biggie. I'm just gonna be all up in the streets workin' on my fitness."

2. They are being nice to Mother Earth while I want to kick her in her lady bits. 

3. The snowbanks are already making the roads narrow enough, I don't need to worry about hitting you on top of everything else. 
Bikers make me nervous to begin with, but I can't feel my face from my 10ft walk, let alone my fingers. I can't count on my dexterity to do a swift paranoid swerve (you all know this maneuver when it comes to cyclists) when you come speed peddling by at freakish speeds no human should be able to reach on such thin wheels. 
So while my first inclination was to be impressed, I'm now just thinking about calling the psych ward and have them bring a paddy wagon on down to my hood and pick all these crazies.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Yeeeah Buddy, Rollin' Like a Big Shot

Car shopping is a bish dudes.
I'm gonna share a little something about me with you all.
I tend to me unrealistic with major purchases. 
Like, I live in a delusional fantasy of mansion wishes and range rover dreams. 
I have champagne taste on a beer budget.
So I, all too often, gotta bring it back down to the real world.
The world of, Meg - you aren't broke, but you aint P.Diddy. 
The world of regular adulthood where you have to have financial goals and savings and shit. 
So this little love bug I've been salivating over for the past year has to wait. 
Could you imagine parallel parking this heffa every day? The cuss words would abound. 

I'm also psyching myself up for the car salesmen. I've heard horror stories. 
Is it wrong that every time I think of a car salesman I think of Dani Devito in Matilda?

My dad has been pumping me up for this like friggin' Floyd Mayweather before a fight. I mean, its all fun and games til I end up like homeboy...

Straight concussed from the money raping I received. 

Nope. Not happening to this savvy, assertive, homework did 20-something. 
I'm gonna make this whole care purchasing extravaganza my bitch. 
Get all gangsta up in that dealership.
Okay...well probably not gangsta. Probably more very polite, yet astute suburbanite. 
Close enough. 

Monday, January 21, 2013

This Weekend School'd Me

Happy Monday bishes!!
How was your weekend?
Mine was....educational.
Lots o' lessons learned by moi. 
Allow me to share my new found knowledge...
1. Never get your car totaled in an accident on the weekend.
Turns out this massively inconvenient event just becomes even more of a hassle when it happens over a weekend. I sorta get it. I don't exactly want to be workin' hard for da money on a Saturday or Sunday, but turns out life still happens on those days, so if you're in the business of dealing with life issues Ima need you to step your game up.

2. Don't let ANYONE play off your emotions when you are vulnerable.
When I am scared, nervous, rattled, what have you, my first emotion is not anger. I usually just cry a lot and want there to be as little conflict as possible. As my sister put it to me this weekend, I tend to become accommodating to an extreme. 
Not always a good thing. 
Sometimes accommodating is not the answer. Sometimes full-blown Irish gumption is in order. The kind where you are all "I am woman hear me roar and these are angry tears not I just want to call my Daddy tears and you're an asshole who is not gonna get away with murdering my car." Straight Boondock Saints on their ass.
3. Shopping for a new car is a lot less fun when you are forced to do it.
Buying a new whip always seemed like it would be an exciting moment for me. I would have done my research, found something I realllllly wanted, planned for it financially, and taken my time to make sure all was right in my car buying fabulous world. 
Welp. This fantasy isn't going to be my reality.
Having a rental is expensive (even with insurance paying for most of it) and its essentially the equivalent of using my dollah bills as toilet paper. So I need to find me a new car post haste. So I'm scrambling to find something I both like and can afford and I'm quickly realizing that a car payment isn't exactly simpatico with my financial goals at the moment. 


4. There is nothing and I do mean NOTHING better than a supportive family and good friends.
In moments when you're really down and out. When you're just shit outta luck. When you're a hottass mess of endless favor needing. You realize how blessed your are to have gracious, generous, and caring people in your life. My family is far away and even from a distance made me feel loved and cared for, but my friends? My family away from my family? Man, they went above and beyond. Every phone call and text, every cell phone minute spent listening to me gripe, every ounce of gas spent to drive me from here to there and then here again, every car battery wiped out on my behalf made me so overwhelmed with feelings of love and support. 
 I am blessed beyond measure.

I guess this is the life of a 20-something right? Learning as you go? After a long and less than awesome weekend, I'm glad the hardest lesson I had to learn was to stick up for what I believe is right and to count my blessing in every moment.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

The Real Deal

This how I felt when I found out that Manti Te'o is either a dirty liar or as dumb naive as those people on Catfish. 
Bring on the barrage of ND hate. I'm used to it by now.
Yes. I'm just going to use Pitch Perfect Gifs through this whole post cuz...well I've watched the movie at least 6 times. What can I say, some sweet lady harmonizing just makes my heart flutter.
So the other day all over my twitter, all up in my text messages, sneaked into most of my gchats appeared this article from the NY Times: The End of Courtship?
So I thought about it and I related it to my experiences, then I thought about it some more. 
And I call bullshit. 
Not on the article. I think that is pretty accurate. 
I call kissmyladybitsbullshit on the acceptance of this as a new "social norm."
Ima be all Cheryl Yeoh up in dis dating scene.
“If he really wants you,” Ms. Yeoh, 29, said, “he has to put in some effort.”

I've done the whole "so, do you wanna come over and hang out?" day of. past 7:ooPM. He's in his sweat pants and I took 45 minutes to look like I was just lounging around in this pair of leggings paired with a casual v-neck and a slouchy cardi. Oh an this dewy eye makeup and perfectly quaffed hair? Yeah. I wake up looking this friggin' effortlessly beautiful. HA. Faker than Manti Te'os girlfriend.

Sweat pants, hair-tied, chillin' with no makeup on?
My ASS. 
I'm gonna need you to be at least 4 months into our relationship and desperately in love with me before I introduce you to the real life version of that saying.


Anyways. Like I was saying, I've done this new modern form of "dating" and it sucks and is dumb and no one comes out of it feeling special or pursued.

My Daddy has drilled into me since I was old enough to realize I wanted to kiss boys not be one these two things:
1. Be particular.
2. The proof of passion is pursuit.

Call me traditional. Call me delusional. Call me a spoiled rotten brat. But I want to be wined and dined. I want to be romanced. I want to be woo'd DAMNIT!

I think its okay if some women are okay with just meeting up in big groups, just hanging out at an apartment watching a $1 redbox movie. 
BUT I also think its okay for women to want to go old-school and have a man ask her politely if he can take her out to dinner, a movie, and sit with your hand upturned on the arm rest the whole time hoping he'll hold it. 
To each her own.
But its never okay when they ask if they can kiss you. I think we can all agree on that right? 
Whether just hanging out or after a dinner date, if you ask me permission to kiss me, I'm going to cringe, feel too awkward to tell you no, and wish you would grow some balls and just go for it. 

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Let Me Tell You Bout My Besssst Friend...

So today I'm trying to rock out a hair half-up do that I saw Khloe K. werk for X-Factor. Its not quite as glamazon as my girl Khlo, but I don't officially hate it. What do you all think?

Lets be real. I'm not even close. Especially in my pajama t-shirt. Since this is a safe place I'm just gonna put it out there. I'm on day 3 of no hair washing and all the way down wasn't an option. I'm a gross human, so I try to pretend I'm channeling a Kardashian to counterbalance my nast-hair.
In my defense I stayed up until and ungodly hour YouTubing clips from The Ellen Show, so blow drying just wasn't an option this morning.

On an extremely exciting note, my best frand Whitney Brooke has FINALLY started her lifestyle/foodie blog. Let me tell you a few things about this woman's cooking. Holy shitballz its good. Like, can't button your pants after good. She's all experimental and adventurous with flavors, but in a good way, not like that time I tried to make a chocolate sauce for my steak. 
Top Chef gives me delusional ideas about my culinary skills. 
She is also one of the most fabulous women I've ever met. I want to live in her closet, her boyfriend is not only super cute, but hilarious, she drinks like a sailor, and her hair could rival Jen Aniston. 
Go check her out. Fall in love with her just like I did back when I was 6. 

Now I'm gonna inundate you with photos of my and my best lady so you can start to love her as much as I do :) Whitney Brooke

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

That Awkward Moment When...

Do any of you guys watch HBO's show Girls?
I do. And I LOOOVE it. 
I realized something about it while making my friend G, who has never seen the show, watch the Season 1 opener on Sunday.
Perhaps Girls is a show you watch by yourself, then have a book club-esque recap with your GF's later. 
So much awkward sexual encounters. Its like a constant flow of unappealing nudity, mixed with uncomfortable subject matter. Like the chinese water torture of sex scenes. One. drop. at. a. time.

Now. You know me, not one to easily be made uncomfortable, and to be honest - when watching it alone, not much of it makes me want to claw my eyes out. Its just hilariously horrendous to me. 
But I'm figuring out that when I watch it with other people, I get all bajiggity. Like - feel like I have to talk about a new recipe I found on Pinterest so we're ignoring Lena Dunham's glaringly obvious natural breasts bouncing on the tv screen - bajiggity.

Its like that time I was watching some Val Kilmer movie with my parents back when I was 15 and a full-blown sex scene came on. I wanted to die. I wanted to run back upstairs with my eyes closed. I wanted to hide under the blanket and pretend it made me invisible. It still haunts me. Traumatized forever.

No matter how old you get sex scenes with your parents in the room is basically the equivalent to a blow dart to your face. One of two things always happen:

1. Someone tries to make a joke about it. Something all the lines of "haha Megan close your eyes!" or "Welp. Thats awkward. (insert awkward chuckle)."
2. Complete and total silence. No one says anything. No one looks at each other. Everyone looks straight ahead, emotionless, expressionless, and just rides that awkward pony all the way out of the scene.

Neither of these thing make it better. It just is what it is. I've taken to pretending I need a snack. In my mind, its less awkward if I'm no less than 200 feet away from the situation. 

So maybe I'm having one of my rare prude moments when it comes to group viewings of Girls. Maybe that time I watched it with my sister and my BIL was in the room, effed me all up. Maybe I just am wary of other people's comfort level so I over compensate. 
Either way, I will now be flying solo on my initial Girl viewings. I'll just gchat with my sisters about it afterwards.


Monday, January 14, 2013

Ice Castles are Totally Normal

Hey Gurlll Haaayyyyy,
First things first. That MAMA trailor? Aint that some bullllsheeet. I saw that trailer last night during the Golden Globes and let. me. tell. you. I ended up having the most terrifying nightmare in recent memory last night and was scrolling through my phone directory trying to think of people who would pick up at 4AM just to let me hear them breathe and know that demon children weren't about the jump on my bed and eat my soul. 
Whatever sick-o decided to make children the most terrifying horror movie subject EVER back in like 2004, kudos to you my friend. I didn't see that one coming.
Second. When you live in frozen tundra-like states like I do, on the weekends you do normal things like visit Ice Castles wich yo girlfrands. 
It was actually really pretty and very cool. 
I, inappropriately, wore heels. Par for the course.

Afterwards we magically found ourselves shopping. I needed to stop by Barnes & Nobles to pick up a couple of books and ended up leaving with said books aaaaaand two pairs of shoes.
I'm wearing one of my new pairs today and I'm so tall in them I might resemble Godzilla. 
I'm also having to hunch over a lot. 
I don't know how Shaq does this on the reg. 
Especially since he dates someone that only comes up to his belly button. But then again she also calls her self Hoopz - with a Z. That totes a match made in heaven. *side-eye*

Also, tell me why, out of the two books I bought the reallllly expensive one was the religious one. Huhhhh? I don't think Jesus would be very happy about this. Jesus books should be my favorite price...Free.99.
The rest of my weekend consisted of watching Kate Hudson make angels sing with her hottness at the Golden Globes, Sienna Miller making my eyes bleed with whatever 70's flower child monstrosity she had on, and Jodi Foster confusing the living hell out of me with her speech.
Cheers to Monday lovahs!

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

This Ones For My Girlfriends


I know, I KNOW I said I would write yesterday but with my Irish playing like The Little Giants, I chose to hide away from the public. To mourn of course.

My life as of late....I'm not going to lie to you - its been really fun, spending lots o' time with my GF's, buuut no real Blog worthy action.
BUT, I've got to say, having a group of women to hang out with and grow close to - there is nothing quite like it. 

I spent an entire year alone in an apartment drinking 2 gallon bottles of cheap-ass wine, watching crappy VH1 reality television, and eating entirely too many egg rolls. 
I had all of 2 friends. They were amazeballs, but turns out they had husbands - husbands tend to take priority  in the whole time distribution sector. 
I know. I think its bullshit too. I mean would you rather sit on my couch and get drunk of Pinot Griggg while listening to me talk about dying alone orrrrr spend time with that dude you're building a life with? I think the answer is totes obvious.
Either way, those two helped get me through one of the most trying years of my life.

I think when we're all in high school its "cool" to be that girl who is all, "yeah, girls bug me. I really only hang out with guys.", "I have sooooo many more guy friends than girlfriends", blahblahvomblah.
Here's the thing, and I think I truly learned this lesson going to an all-women's college, the value that comes from having lady friends is unparalleled.

Us chicks? We have magical powers. Like some Marvel Avengers type shit. 
We have the ability to relate to one another, to feel a compassion and empathy for other ladies that is unique and selfless. Women will put one another on their backs and your ride or die bitches? They'll see you through anything. ANYTHING. There is a patience and tenderness...a relatability that can only come from other chaquitas. 

Those wang-slangers just can't find the same common ground. Its not their fault, their balls get in the way. 
This is not to say that women CAN'T have close, intimate friendships with men. They can and do. Hell, I do! I just know that there is a cap on how much they can understand about what I'm going through.
They don't know what its like to be bloated with boobs that feel like they've been kicked by Mia Hamm and a patience level that disappeared over night. My girlfrands on the other hand? They'll come over and be a class-A bitch with me while free-boobing it and eating hostess cupcakes (RIP).

I just think its important to remember the value of the women you surround yourself with. 
Those Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Beaches, Babysitter's Club, First Wives Club chicks were on to something.