Loving this fresh color.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
The thing I love about Swarovski is that its jewelry looks so expensive, but actually isn't. I also love how conversational Swarovski pieces are - for instance, if I wore this ring, I'm sure it would intrigue a few compliments and be an ice breaker at a party. Nice.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
It's just so cute. But so expensive. But it's just so cute. It's. Just. So. Precious.
I say. I hope you all are wearing dresses every day. If there was ever a dress season, THIS IS IT. RIGHT NOW. For the love of Gucci, pull out that dress you've been hoarding for the right day and wear it today.
Friday, July 9, 2010
This week's worthy weekly indulgence, which snuck up quite unannounced on me, is a tribute to all you girls still waiting for that ever-evasive proposal.
I, on the other hand, am expecting mine any day now.
Just kidding, Mother. Any year now is more like it?
Anyway, I am all for off-the-beaten-path throwbacks to society's most common traditions, which is why this vintage-inspired orb from J.Crew entices me to buy it for myself and wear it on my left hand anyway, despite the fact that I am blindingly single.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
My metabolism is all kinds of off today. No wonder. My boss starved me until 4pm. Yes, we went to lunch at four o'clock in the bloody afternoon. I had a delicious sandwich and ate every last crumb, BECAUSE I WAS STARVING.
Anyway. When I got off work at 5, I said to myself, 'Oh, I think I will do a few things around the apartment' (i.e. CLEAN THE PLACE UP. There were overnight oats rhumianting near the sink since I left them there before work, where I was starved all day until 4. Did I mention that? No? Oh.). So I commenced to fold the laundry that I did two days ago and unload the dishwasher, etc. etc., make a candle shrine in front of the front entrance mirror for no reason at all … basically, I fucked around until 6:30 when I said, Oh my, it is half past six. Although I just ate two and a half hours ago, I think I will think seriously about making dinner, since I am probably going out tonight and should really have something in my belly so I do not end up raging drunk after just taking a whiff of someone else's drink.
So I thought seriously about it. Went on Facebook. Made a White Russian. Stood in the kitchen. Went on a hunt for more candles. Ended up in the kitchen again, where I really thought seriously about making dinner.
So I said, Well, I have these leftover hamburger buns, so I shall make a grilled cheese sandwich with cheddar cheese on this here hamburger bun. But this just went wrong. I took a bite of the sandwich and said, No. I will not finish this sandwich.
But, still (not) hungry, I stared at the pantry shelves. And then, I spotted them.
The Jaffa Cakes.
For those of you who have never eaten a Jaffa Cake, what the fuck is wrong with you. No, just kidding. They're a UK/Ireland thing, so I doubt many of you have tried them. It's ok. I understand.
But anyway anyway anyway, Jaffa Cakes are irresistible, so basically as soon as you make eye contact with the Jaffa Cakes, you must consume the Jaffa Cakes so they stop staring at you. So I said, Ok Jaffa Cakes, I will enjoy 3 of you, will that stop you from giving me that terrible look? But they just laughed at me as I took 3 Jaffa Cakes out of the package.
I left the kitchen and consumed the Jaffa Cakes in the living room so I wouldn't be tempted to eat all of them. It didn't work. I made two more trips to the kitchen, consuming 7 Jaffa Cakes en toto. My belly was sticking out and whining about the amount of Jaffa Cakes I had just given it. I was in agreement. I angrily wrapped up the Jaffa Cakes and stuck them back on the shelf, leaving the package open just a wee bit in the hope that they might go stale so I would not have to eat the rest of them.
BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I was like, But Jaffa Cakes just aren't a meal. And so somehow I ended up with Ben & Jerry's. WHICH IS JUST NOT ME, I do not eat ice cream. Ever. I got it because I am in a futile attempt to repair my bones, so I am eating all the dairy I can!
But for the love of god, Ben, Jerry, and the Jaffa Cakes just ruined my evening. I now feel like I need to go run a bloody marathon, but you know what? I can't. My bones are cracked. Thanks, KARMA.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Right, so I am guessing that none of you have heard of Kombucha Wonder Drink, because even some of us who live in a health food bubble of oblivion to the rest of the junk food world haven't heard of it.
But I have.
And I love it (Essence of Lemon is my favorite). When I first tried it several years ago, I positively blanched at the slightly fermented taste of tea, which is just weird to virgin Kombucha taste buds. But it's so good.
I also enjoy the (way too often to actually admit to), ahem, occasional alcoholic drink, so Kombucha is like an excuse to drink something slightly fermented while at work! Or before noon!
Oh my god, did I just say that.
I did just say that. Well, I am sorry, but there's nothing wrong with being slightly alcoholic. Oh my god, did I just say that again? Sorry, I'll stop.
No, I really am a healthy person. I mean, I'm obsessed with organic food and I'm also an obsessive runner. Well, I used to be. Until a week ago when I was told to stay off my stress-fractured cracked bones for 3 weeks and drink lots of milk to repair them. To which I immediately thought, I will not complain about drinking White Russians all day, every day, for the sake of my bones!
Because White Russians are mostly milk, for those of you slightly less obsessed with alcohol than I. Ok, well they're milk spiked with vodka and Kahlua but who's checking, right?
I'll stop. Really. I'm setting a terrible example.
Ok but just for the record, I made my White Russian just now with almond milk instead of cow's milk. Which is just weird.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Once upon a time, I had a friend named Kate. Well, I still have her. But anyway, once upon a time, Kate went to New York. Knowing that I have a magpie-like fascination with Pashminas, Kate brought me back two lovely scarves, one a bright emerald green, and the other a deep navy.
I am one to go against the grain and not follow the crowd when it comes to fashion. Looking like everyone else bores me. So when I saw the emerald scarf that Kate brought me, I fell truly, madly, and deeply in love with it.
We spent all of our time together, myself and the green scarf. Everyone loved us together. We were the "it" couple. We were so happy. And soon enough, I was christened the title of "The Girl with the Green Scarf", as a throwback to Amy Adams in "Confessions of a Shopaholic", which is kind of a compliment but kind of not because "Confessions of a Shopaholic" is a bit too mainstream for my indie liking.
So anyway, the green scarf and I travel together everywhere; I choose her above all the rest of my scarves, much to their chagrin. We are so happy together.
Which is why I CANNOT tell her about this French blue scarf. Because French blue and orange are together the most beautiful color combination … ever.
I don't know if I can purchase the French blue scarf without the green scarf finding out. This is such a pickle.