Nonpareils #5

– This weekend will be spent cuddling with my boys — Augs and Ryely. My mission is to get Rye out on the deck with me. Sunshine, a good book (I’m currently reading A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn) and a cute dog are all a girl needs in this life.

– Our anniversary is in two weeks and I am stoked! Augs and I are celebrating by spending the night in Atlantic City in a ridiculously lush suite at Harrah’s. And because he really knows his girl — we’re heading to Ocean City to grab pizza from Mack and Manco’s beforehand. Glorious.

– You know what’s awesome? Coming home to discover make-up and books on your doorstep. Granted, I paid for these goodies and this isn’t the work of generous magical elves or anything, but still. It makes a girl happy. Especially when the books in question are: Love is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss One Song At A Time and Talking To Girls About Duran Duran: One Young Man’s Quest for True Love and a Cooler Haircut — both by Rob Sheffield. (If you liked High Fidelity and have a heart, you will love Love is a Mixtape. Read it immediately and then, come over so we can eat Mexican food and talk about how awesome it is).

– I fell in love with this couch at Macy’s. This honkin’ sectional (really, I should write copy for furniture distributors) with deep seats, the palest green fabric and a leather base.
However, I was a little cautious about buying it as it was a floor model with a wobbly back. About two weeks later, I decide that I’m going to put on my big girl shoes, head back to Macy’s, haggle the price down and come home, the proud owner of a new couch.
Last night, I get to Macy’s and learn that the couch has been sold.
All wasn’t lost, though because not only did I get a free pair of underwear at Victoria’s Secret but I also got Chik-Fil-A. There are few things in this world not made better by cute undies and waffle fries.

– Andrew Breitbart is a douchebag. Actually no. I rescind that comment (Wait. Do I mean ‘refudiate’? No, I don’t. You know why? Because I’m not an idiot). To describe Mr. Breitbart, I am going to bite a line from Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist (It’s one of those movies that grows on you. The first time I saw it, I wasn’t particularly impressed but now — I find myself lingering whenever it’s on HBO). Andrew Breitbart is a, “fistful of assholes.”

– What the what, WordPress? How come posting via email results in me losing half my blog post? Not cool.

Nonpareils – #4

– I need to find a local place that makes a really great egg salad sandwich. Like the kind you get at Afternoon Tea at the Four Seasons in Philly (hello, impossibly high standards! You’re not annoying at all!). Most places slop together hard-boiled eggs with mayo and call it a day, but I’m looking for something a little tastier. Veto on the curry powder, though. That stuff is atrocious. Any suggestions? Yes, I realize I could probably make this myself, but egg salad sandwiches are greater than the sum of their parts. I don’t really like hard-boiled eggs and mayo squicks me out a little, so assembling an egg salad sandwich is akin to making your own hot dogs. I don’t want to see it; I just wanna eat it.

– Girl Talk is essentially the modern day equivalent of magic…and by magic, I mean creating seamless mashups that I want to have playing in my head 24/7. I’m not a big mash-up kinda girl. Primarily because a good majority of DJs think playing two tracks concurrently = mash-up (are you listening, JZ/DC? I love the name, but dude? Seriously?), but this guy has it mastered. Hypem his stuff now. It’ll make you happy.

– For about five solid minutes today, I considered deleting my Facebook account. In addition to the privacy horror stories (says the girl who has been blogging about her life since the millennium), I kind of hate the direction of the site — the tagging (HATE the tagging), the fact that all your interests are linked to something else and the stupid apps. People who get up at 3:00 a.m. to water fictional crops should be beaten with rakes.

But then, I realized that I really like to gossip — it’s an affliction, really — and if I cut Facebook out of my life, I wouldn’t be able to do that nearly as much. I wouldn’t be able to rail in disbelief about how Person X married Person Y and I wouldn’t be able to gleefully crow about how Person Z gained a bunch of weight. And that would suck.

So, in the end – evil electronic corporation wins out because I think there’s no better way to spend an hour than talking shit with my sister (who understands fully the importance of being judgmental). Score one for the big guy.

Nonpareils #3

Starbucks is offering a Dark Cherry Mocha? This sounds pretty glorious and I’m already daydreaming about drinking it iced while sitting in the sunshine and reading about Tuscany, Turkey, Greece or Brazil. Can you tell that I’ve got a serious case of wanderlust? Since neither of my banks (vacation and monetary) agree with the idea of me travelling, it looks like I’m going to have to sate that lust by merely reading about these amazing places.

– Mike Jeffries, CEO of Abercrombie and Fitch, is totally creepy. Also, you can tell how dated this article is because one of the A&F employees is checking his Friendster messages. Yep — Friendster.

– My birthday is in a week. I am not excited. At all. No idea what I want. No idea what I’m doing. Nothing. This is so unlike me.

– The library book sale is in six weeks. I am stoked. I seriously need to start trolling Craigslist for a bigger bookcase.

– So, let’s say you’ve got this boyfriend and lately, he’s been a little negligent. Not a lot of real communication going on and he lets you down. A lot. BUT, dude’s got good intentions and he swears he’ll make it up to you. In fact, he’s taking you to Paris! You pack your bags, step off the plane and realize that you’re in Paris, Texas. Dub Tee Fail.

THIS is what Lost has been like for me this season. I keep buying all their hype about how questions will be answered and faithfully tune in every week, but every single goddamn week, I get off the plane and end up in Paris, Texas where nothing happens (no offense intended to anyone who does live there. I’m sure it’s a perfectly lovely place and the fact that you have an abundance of Tex-Mex eateries is always a good thing for a girl who loves chips and salsa) and I leave with even more questions than when I began my journey.

Look Darlton — I get it, OK? I do. You want the final half of the season to be an asskicking juggernaut that leaves fans and spectators breathless. But dudes, you have GOT to start injecting some life into these episodes! Seriously! I cannot handle watching people stalk around the goddamn jungle anymore! Verb it up a little!

Also, I have this theory. Let me know what you think:

According to last night’s episode – the only thing Sayid ever wanted died in his arms, correct?
Oh. OK. Gotta be Nadia….
…but you know who else died in the arms of Mr. Jarrah? Shannon Rutherford.

I’m thinking that Flocke makes good on his promise and delivers a certain blonde back to Wild Monkey Island.

Thoughts? Comments? Character assassinations because I dared defame Lost? Cookies?

Nonpareils – #2

– This weekend, the Philly suburbs are supposed to get pounded with a blizzard. We’re expected to get anywhere from 12-16″ of snow. Holy shit, right?

Now, being a Florida girl who has never experienced a blizzard before – I’m already a little freaked and local news media is not helping to allay my fears. Last night, we’re watching the news and this insane reporter is babbling on about plow men being ‘warriors waging a war against the snow.’ When did this morph from a storm to Snowmahgedoon 2010 — Man V.s Nature: The Final Snowdown?!

It reminded me of Florida during hurricane season when local news anchors would start foaming at the mouths and freaking out about FEEDER BANDS!! and demanding that people HUNKER DOWN!! It’s ridiculous and the kind of panic-mongering that leads to grocery stores being cleaned out and people acting like idiots. No bueno, dudes. No bueno.

– Things I’m trying to Jedi-Mind Trick To My Desk And Failing At Making Appear: a megajuana quesadilla from TJ Flats, an Illy Americano with two creams and two sugars, my awesome LL Bean shearling flip-flops (coziest flip-flops ever), access to my music collection and Supernatural on DVD.

– I just realized that my date tomorrow has been called on account on weather. Augs and I were supposed to see Sita Sings The Blues and grab lunch at Elevation Burger, but I guess that’s not happening anymore. GD. BUT, the Bryn Mawr Film Institute is showing Raiders of the Lost Ark in April and I could not be more stoked.

– I’m kinda in love with Scott Fujita.

– Things I don’t do as much as I would like: visit art galleries, museums, blues clubs, cheese shops and beaches. Go to brunch. Get mani/pedis (even if it’s me painting my own nails while sprawled out in my living room). Play with dogs – preferably ones that answer to the names ‘Phoebedog’, ‘Maya’ or ‘Ryelybear’. Bake. Make mix CDs. I’ve got to change that.

Nonpareils – #1

So, nonpareils are what the English call Hundreds-and-Thousands, Pennsylvanians call Jimmies and the rest of the world calls sprinkles.

They’re teeny sugary morsels with little nutritional value.

If my blog was a donut, entries like this would be the sprinkles.

– In addition to the list of things I outlined in my first blog entry, I’m also going to stop hitting ‘Mark All As Read’ on my Google Reader (except in the case of TFLN and FML because essentially, if you’ve read one, you’ve read them all) and I’m going to start documenting my adventures in the kitchen. Am I a good cook? No. Dear God, no. But I want to get better and I think doing this would be a step in the right direction.

– I realize that certain things in the corporate world are set in stone — dress code, firewalls that block pornography, social networking and internet radio — but can we please toss the time-honored tradition of having to drink insufferably bad coffee? ‘Cause that would be awesome.

– Pan-crisped ravioli with tomato alfredo sauce, cozy sweats and making mix CDs = my night. Lo-fi but kinda perfect.

– Let’s run away to southern Italy or Seville. We can drink cava or prosecco, eat bread and cheese and spend days sitting in the sunshine, listening to acoustic guitar music.