Had to

If Venus had been photoshopped...

Artist Anna Utopia Giordano

via A Cup of Jo/via Flavorwire

My Valentine

This year I'm excited to say that I have a date for Valentine's Day!!! Who, you ask?

MY THIGHS!!!!

That's right, I'm dating my thighs this year and it's getting serious, so I'm making this day as special as I can for us. This morning started out with an almond croissant (our favorite) and about a gallon of coffee.

Now, don't tell my thighs, but I have a few fun activities planned for our romantic day together.

First of all, when you're dating someone who is a bit emotionally unstable (like my thighs) you only want to engage in activities that make that special someone feel most comfortable. Therefore, we will not be doing anything that requires too much movement (aka jiggle) unless it is in a very dark place, like a club (although, me and my thighs don't really like clubs). I'm taking us to a movie and bringing some special Valentine's Day snacks (a flask of Maker's Mark and a package of chocolate covered potato chips), oh and I should mention, we're seeing The Vow (my thighs don't get jealous when I joke about how much I love Channing Tatum!) It's the PERFECT Valentine's Day movie to see with someone you love. I can't wait.

After the movie, my thighs and I are going to go shopping for jackets because, like I said, you want to keep your date comfortable and happy on Valentine's Day and last time we went shopping for pants...well...you've seen Shallow Hal starring Gwyneth Paltrow, right? Speaking of, we will NOT be looking at any pictures of Gwyneth Paltrow, Blake Lively or anyone remotely beautiful, JUST BECAUSE.

Ummmm...

Tonight, we're staying in. I have a couple of super nice FIFTEEN dollar (yeah, I splurged) bottles of wine for me and my thighs to enjoy and a refrigerator full of more special treats (cheese, chocolate, gummy bears). We're going to curl up in bed and watch our favorite show of all time, Downton Abbey. Then, because we're like an old married couple, we'll probably pass out early (in a puddle of our own tears (of joy)...just because we're so in love and we can't believe how lucky we are to have each other).

Happy Valentine's Day.

Sometimes

Most of my blog posts happen very on the fly. I decide I want to write one, I sit down, open my computer and twenty minutes later it's just there. Others, however, come to me (usually while I'm washing my hair...which isn't that often) and demand more crafting. I'm working on a little piece about high school...my reunion...my 10 YEAR reunion...it's taking me some time. But I didn't want to completely disappear and since I've been up since 6am and the morning hours are my best for typing, I figured, what the heck, I'll jot down a few thoughts about the week. I finally have my camera again and have been taking lots of pictures. What's sad is that I'm so accustomed to RetroCam making photos look awesome that normal pictures look stupid to me now. If I could find my cord, I'd upload them to this post but, alas, I have NO idea where that could be. They're mostly of the cats...here's a RetroCam picture instead.

We're still in the process of setting up our apartment and don't have any chairs. I've been doing a lot of my writing from the floor of my kitchen. Since we don't have a TV, my main source of procrastination, I've had to find other ways to distract myself from getting things done. This morning I made blueberry scones. I always want toast but I never have bread and since my few attempts at breadmaking have been dismally unsuccessful, scones are my go to. I'm really good at making them and I have the recipe memorized. Today I used rice milk in lieu of cream...I wouldn't recommend it unless you really like the taste of rice, but luckily the blueberries covered most of that flavor.

I'm still reeling over Whitney. I didn't catch the Grammys last night, but I heard J Hud's performance on the radio this morning and I thought it was pretty moving. I'm sending good thoughts to Bobbi Kristina as I heard she's been in and out of the hospital since Saturday. It's just a terrible story.

On a lighter note, did I mention I finally got a job?? I'm working at a coffee shop up the street from my house. I can walk there and I really like the people I work with and there's this English guy who comes in who may actually be my future husband. I told him he smelled good the other day soooo, yeah, I'm pretty sure it sealed the deal.

Wow, I started this post at 7:30 this morning...it's 9:45 now. Cool. I'm going to start waking up at 6 everyday so that when I decide to make scones as a form of procrastination, I'll still finish writing by noon.

Have a good Monday!

I'm ruined...

Try these at your own risk. Don't say I didn't warn you.

You can get them at Trader Joe's.

...

Remember, you've been warned.



On owning a car again...

When I turned 18 something magical happened. My parents woke me up, told me to walk to a window overlooking the driveway and check to see what was waiting. I peeked out to see a champagne colored Chevy Blazer with a big white bow on the hood waiting for me down below. Amazing. It was like living in the best car commercial I'd ever seen. I loved that car. Loved it. Driving was one of my favorite activities, the commute between the University of Georgia and my parents' house was a highlight. I'd turn up the music, cruise down 316 and daydream about the movies I'd star in one day. It was a barely driven hand me down from my grandfather and it treated me right for years.

When I graduated college and moved to New York though, my beautiful Blazer became neglected, sitting in my parents' driveway, probably missing me like The Giving Tree missed its Boy. But I was in the big city, nobody has a car, you don't NEED a car and I (in the coolest of pretentious ways) revelled in not having one...well, after a little while. My first year in New York was spent convincing myself that I didn't miss my vehicle. I'd spout out phrases I'd heard seasoned New Yorkers say: "Public transportation is liberating", "Parking and gas are outrageous expenses", "My carbon footprint is hardly noticeable" and after many months, I started to believe myself. Finally I stopped fantasizing about the privacy of my car and realized the beauty of jamming my headphones in, picking up a great book, and riding down to work on the subway. (I really did get SO much reading done while commuting). Living in New York provides a built in workout, you walk everywhere and I learned to replace my beloved drives with my cherished walks with my iPod. So, when I moved to L.A. (a notorious driving city) in November, I was in a bit of a pickle. My parents had long ago sold my beloved Blazer and I certainly didn't have extra funds to buy a car. The kindness of friends took on it's true meaning when my friend Chris lent me Gladys, a lovely, old lady from 1994. A true Griswold classic with wood panelling and all, I drove her with pride for two months until some idiot bimbo turned her disgusting yellow Xterra into Gladys' face and sent her to heaven...sorry Chris...thank God for insurance.

In the aftermath of Gladys, I've found myself in the same situation. Is it possible to be an Angeleno without a car? Yes, actually. If you live in Hollywood at least. I've walked EVERYWHERE and it's really wonderful, BUT L.A. is huge and I realized that soon I'd have to start repeating to myself a familiar phrase from my past, "Public transportation is liberating." Unfortunately though, Los Angeles does not have a Metro NEARLY as complex as New York's, it closes at midnight. I'd have to learn the buses.

But then...

My amazing friend Bridget informed me that she had a car she wanted to get rid of and, in an act of extreme generosity, essentially GAVE me her 1990 Lexus...Yes, this is a true story. As I type this, I'm sitting at a Starbucks waiting to get a Smog Test and new plates for it (pray the LAPD doesn't see it's expired tags before I make it to the DMV...) It's truly amazing, bordering on unbelievable; I guess I'm lucky with cars and so appreciative for it.

The last few days spent with the Lexus have reminded me of what I loved so much about my Blazer. It's such a freedom to get in your car and just DRIVE...I mean, not too far, gas is way too expensive for joy rides, but even sitting in traffic doesn't bother me like I'd expected it to. Don't get me wrong though, I don't think I'll ever find a replacement for walking blocks and blocks in New York, music on, zoned out and enjoying the city, but man, it's really nice to have a place besides my shoulder to put my purse...(my passenger's seat (that allusion was a little vague I think)).

Make this...

Last May, my dear friends Kerry and Tibi got married in beautiful Venice, Italy. Yes, that really happened. Ahh, memories. Venetians LOVE Aperol Spritzes, although, if you're my mother, you can make them with Campari...eww. At happy hour every afternoon, Venice pubs offer cocktails and cicchetti (little appetizers that you can choose from while you drink) and the Spritz is a staple (we even found places with proseco on tap.) It's a great cocktail, so easy to make, the Aperol bottle is super cute AND you look ultra cool when you make it for guests.

SPRITZ!

3 parts Proseco

2 parts Aperol

Splash of soda

garnish with an orange slice and an olive

Cheers!

Houseguests.

We have two of these little guys staying with us for a few days. I've seen them for about 15 minutes in daylight because the scary ceiling fan has kept them terrified and confined to underneath the bed... Apparently the fan loses its threat though around 2am when they both decide to come out and climb on EVERYTHING. It's cute. I'm jealous. I wish I was a cat. That picture is of a black cat audition by the way.

Speaking of those of us jealous of cats, check out my friends' Chris and Whitney's new Funny or Die video. Funny shit.

match-up.com more dates more relationships more of the same shit - watch more funny videos

photo via: Cup of Jo

On getting a job...

I'd forgotten (maybe selectively) how much finding a day job sucks. February 1st will mark my three month anniversary with L.A. and also my longest stretch gone without a job in years. It's a very strange feeling, not having a job. Usually, I find myself wondering what day it is. What time it is. What I'm doing. Where I am. Why I'm here! Thank God, we don't have a TV in this apartment or I'm sure my days would be spent wondering if my ass really is as big as Kim Kardashian's (there's a distinct possibility based on height ratio) and crying over the lack of employment on Craigslist. And also wondering if I should sign the anti SOPA and PIPA petition before I sign into Pinterest. When "pounding the pavement", the phrase I've adopted to romanticize dropping off my resumes without the help of a car, I try and remind myself that one day all of this stress will be only a fond memory to regale/bore NO inspire my children with, but it doesn't really help in the moment I suppose. In talking to a friend the other day who'd just lost her job AND her flaky roommate to a boyfriend, I wondered, "Aren't you freaking out??" "No," she said, "not yet, I'm not worried about money." Which is really what it all comes down to anyway, right? If I wasn't constantly in a state of financial distress, my life would be easy as pie. I will add here however, that there are certainly ways to be happy without money. Hiking. Crafting. Cooking. The list goes on. I've been engaged in a lot of these activities lately which I'm sure are making me a more perfect model human. Which is fantastic. Alas, I'm very grateful to wake up to beautiful sunshine everyday and to be getting a lot of work done in other areas of my life (i.e. Oh YEAH, I'm an actress!) but oh how I would love to cross the 'how in the hell am I going to pay that credit card bill this month...shit!' off my list of 'things I should worry about today'.  In my dream of all dreams, the one I usually conjure while I'm pounding the pavement, my acting and writing career take off before I even have to get a day job!!! That sounds awesome! Maybe we can all have a group meditation on that later...yeah...I'll lead you on a great hike and cook you dinner in exchange :)

Amazing Artwork: Lynn Felton http://www.lynnfelton.com/ 

PSSST....

For the six year old camper in those like me, who just really don't want to miss a beat or a bead loom project to take a shower*, this is THE BEST dry shampoo. Oh yeah, it's also the CHEAPEST and you can get it anywhere.

That's all. I just felt a real urge to express my love for Pssst as I sprayed my rotten hair today and admired the "clean" beautiful outcome. (It even makes your bangs look washed, WHAAAT??!)

I even love the way the can looks.

Oh my god, maybe someone from Pssst will see this and send me a lifetime supply.
I mean a girl can dream, right?

*Note: By shower, I mean wash my hair...I have baby wipes for everything else...shut up.

What Happens in Vegas...ehhh, screw that...

Well, I did it. I went to Vegas for the first time and it was...something. I would have written about it yesterday but I was still recovering from a two day hangover and had to take three naps. Anyway, my dear friend Lauren is getting married in February and we went to celebrate her Bachelorette party. And boy, did we.

Apparently, oxygen is pumped into the casinos so you can stay awake and keep drinking...and drinking...and drinking...like I did until 6am. But let me back it up a bit. I think I mentioned last week that I tried to squeeze my ass into some jeans and they ripped on the way up sending me into my first real crisis of 2012 and a major detox. Yes, I actually thought I could go to Vegas and stay on a detox without alcohol or fried snacky crap. Alas, the SECOND Vegas came into view, I threw the no drinking phase of my detox out the window but decided that I'd still keep up with my cranberry water and my clean eating. Until about 4:30 am I kept up with my water (the only reason I think I'm still alive to type this) and even opted out of the 5 am breakfast that everyone indulged in. But then, suddenly it was 11am, I'd been asleep for about 5 hours and I woke up and stood so fast I blacked out and had to sit on the floor. Tunnel vision then ensued for a good ten minutes and nasty cold sweats, as my body attempted to save itself from the poison that coursed through it. And that's when I realized, YOU CANNOT EAT LIKE A BUNNY IN VEGAS. You must carbo load like you're about to run a marathon. I was ravenous. Within 5 1/2 minutes I consumed all of the snacks I had passed up the night before including: 2 Gatorade's, 3 Nutri Grain bars, 1/2 gallon of goldfish, 1/4 a bag of salt and vinegar Kettle chips, and a little over 1/2 the box of Nilla Wafers (which, by the way, ARE DELICIOUS, I'd forgotten). I sat there in a coma, completely shocked at what had just happened. Never in my life have I had my body take over and force feed itself in order to save its life like that. Needless to say, I promptly passed out after my binge and left Vegas that night. (How on earth can one stay for more than one??)

OH YEAH, I also tried to gamble. I bought in $20 at a $5 table and 4 minutes later I'd lost it all. I got pissed, had to be talked down by new friend Stephanie and reminded that it wasn't my party and that I needed to shape up. So...I kind of did, but not before muttering how much I hated Vegas and games. Twas the end of my gambling days I believe. Overall though, Vegas is AWESOME. It's not real. It's adult Disneyland and somehow, even though I probably could have checked myself into the ER for alcohol poisoning, I can't wait to go back.

Super Sophisticated

Once upon a time, I think around the beginning of 2010, my blog started to veer into a sort of "here's pictures of the food I've cooked and isn't my life quaint" direction and stayed that way for a short period. Then I realized I was posting pictures of really disgusting looking soups and writing about things that NO ONE wanted to read about. Today, even with that being said, I've decided to post a "recipe". It's not really a recipe though, it's more me telling you about four ingredients and how to assemble them. Before everyone besides Jess and my mom stop reading, let me give you the reason for this and also warn you that tomorrow I may post a cocktail recipe. This thing is SO EASY to make and you look SO COOL when you put it together for your guests. Evan and I ordered this at a restaurant one time and paid somewhere around $15 (see: super fancy appetizer) for it and then realized how freaking easy it would be to recreate, so here it goes:

The "I'M SUPER SOPHISTICATED CROSTINI"

1 loaf of bread (preferably something with nuts or just a French baguette)

sage

honey

ricotta cheese

Cut your bread into little slices (crostini), drizzle with olive oil and toast in the oven. Rip up the sage into little pieces, heat up some oil, and quickly fry the sage. Like, quick, throw it in there and take it right out, you just want it crispy. Open your ricotta and stir it just so it's smooth. Take out your bread, put a dollop of ricotta on each crostini, sprinkle a good amount of sage on each, and then drizzle them with honey. Voila! Everyone thinks you're the best host/ess ever.

You're welcome!

Let me tell you something...

I picked lemons today.

 

Like, a LOT of lemons...

And then I thought, "I'll make a key lime pie with lemons!" which Evan pointed out is actually just a lemon meringue pie. Then I tried to put on a pair of jeans (that fit me a month ago) and they ripped... SO, I will be adding these lemons to water and detoxing my flobbity ass.

:)

Goodness me...

First of all, may we all take a moment of silence for our dearly beloved Gladys. She fought the hard fight but, at 14 and with hardly any brakes and missing an eye, she's kicked it. Thanks Gladys, for safely transporting me in true style these last few months...

...

Really, there's not too much to say after that except, I suck at bowling.

I mean, I really do. Last night (or two nights ago now because I stopped writing yesterday) just cuz it was Monday (you know), Jamie and I got dressed up and headed to The Roosevelt hotel where we drank fancy cocktails and bowled at The Spare Room.

They give you these amazing bowling shoes (not that all bowling shoes aren't somewhat cool) and set you loose on their two lanes near the bar.

My luck ran out after two practice rounds and I peeked with a score of 70 something while Jamie...well...she somehow bowled a 140...

Whatever. I paid for our drinks since I'm really rich and honored the birth of Blue Ivy with my one strike. Hopefully now Beyonce really will call me to babysit.

Clearly taken AFTER the scores were tallied.

I'm hoping to have some interesting posts coming up as I'm transforming into an L.A. person who...dun dun duuuuun....TAKES THE BUS, so stay tuned. It should be fun.