Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
more glad game redux
I've been rather cantankerous lately. My sister from another mister, J, has reminded me again to count my blessings. I'm long overdue. So here's my list:
♥ My mom reminding me that I should be nicer to people because even if I find them to be totally grating on my very last nerve. She enlightened me to the fact that they could be experiencing different stresses that I can't relate to. I'm going to make a Mozart concerto effort.
♥ A teeth cleaning appointment on Friday {sounds weird, but I love going to the dentist}
♥ Picking up R from PR tomorrow night, then spending the long weekend together. ♥ R calling from the territories to say that Chelsea ClinTON was wearing a Marimekko dress made out of the same fabric as his tie.
♥ Weekend road trip to Tucson to see our best friend Zeke & the LAL dudes.PSA: LAL FRIYAY!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
"my sisterhood of the traveling pantsuits..."
Seriously, if the shaky video doesn't make you nauseated, my incessant background snot snarfing surely will. HAHA. Oh boy, that introduction montage, Bill mouthing "I love you" & "good one" beaming with pride, and Hillary's graciousness made me go a big soft blubbery one. WAHH. There was not a single dry (old lady) eye in the house.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
R&G's Beijing Olympic Recap in quotes:
- "What's that stroke called?" "It's called the idiot stroke, because no one swims like that!" -on the men's butterfly 200m swim.
- "I'm so sick of watching these uptight ecobitches." "Ecobitches?!?! Perfect." "Yeah, they're the ones that give you shitty looks at AssWholeFoods." -on the USA Women's beach volleyball team
- "Shawn John." "The rapper?" "No, the gymnast." -on US gymnast Shawn Johnson
- "Yeah, that one's a little cunty."-on US gymnast Nastia Lukin
- "SNNNNARRFFF! *tear*" -on Shawn Johnson's gold medal win
- "I've never heard of a Chinese person with a lisp!" -on SJ's coach Liang Chow
- "Is that Borat's dad?" "Wahwahweewah!"-on the fucking nutcase that is Bella Karolyi
- "Blac---yella don't crack." "They wouldn't be complaining if they were winning." -on the Chinese Women's gymnastic team age controversy
- "God, what assholes!"-on Bob Costas and the rest of the commentators
- "His tiny teeth bother me." -on Michael Phelps' intolerably small grill
- "I love it when they throw up." -on the puddle of vomit at the 200m track and field finish line
- "Back at the Bird's Nest..." "CHIRP CHIRP!" "I thought you hated birds?" "In practice, but I like them in theory." -on Herzog and DeMeuron's architectural masterpiece
ps. we've booked our November Beijing trip! I can't wait!
Top 5 Current Wants
- a colonic
- an iPhone
- new running shoes
- Givenchy mascara
- fall weather
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Knitwit
Friday, August 22, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
I've finally got it all figured out...
There are three types of people in this world {town}:
- An Eastside person
- A Stinkweed's person
- A Zia's person
Monday, August 11, 2008
Comme and Go:
Comme des Garçons for H&M! Thursday, August 07, 2008
And she's back!

PARIS, March 2, 2008 – Lace made for a fascinating fetish object at the Prada show in Milan last week. At her little-sister label, Miuccia Prada fixated on, of all things, jockey uniforms. "I wanted to take sport in a new direction," she said afterward. The show began in quite literal fashion with a jumpsuit of bold, color-blocked primary silks, worn over bare legs and cone-shaped heels. Each model's initials were embroidered in leather letters above her left breast, and each wore a fitted horse hood that snapped below her chin, along with a full face of makeup.
From there, the races-to-runway uniform morphed into densely knit blouson sweaters over long shorts and duchesse-satin tunics and track jackets that topped straight skirts. In a stroke of parallelism between her two collections, Prada showed narrow, laser-cut felt shifts and dresses in graphic floral or chevron lace that offered hide-and-seek peeks of the stretch-jersey bodysuits in contrasting colors underneath. For evening, the lace became matte sequins.
Coming at the tail end of a month of shows, the sports reference seemed curiously off-subject. Maybe that's just Miuccia, always a few steps ahead. Still, all the horseplay and repetitive pursuit of concept did seem to come at the cost of real-life clothes. That impression was only partly allayed by the closing group of shapely solid-colored dresses and coats.
– Nicole Phelps
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
08.06.08...one smelly day.
Dear Diary,
Today, I ate a Reuben sandwich that viciously tore apart the roof of my mouth (much like Cap'n Crunch cereal) in an Irish pub that reaked of a subway platform on a hot summer's day. The pastrami was an unnerving hue of pepto bismol pink. Ooh and meat sheen. Kaliedescopic, oil slickesque meat sheen never fails to give me the willies.
Also, I wore my former signature perfume. I say ex- because it causes my olfactory sensing pathways to manifest the scent into a phantom hangover. Historically, I'd spritz l'eau d'vomit all over the head and crotch before a night of heavy carousing/rabble rousing. I'd envitably stumble home and fall alseep full clothed only to wake up still half drunk with sticky eyelids. Now-a-days, even I can't wear it, smell it, cruise by the fragrance counter, without feeling like I need someone {ahem, Jessica} to read to me from the AA bible, a'la reverse bedtime story. "You could have killed someone, or yourself." For shame.


























