You're a Hot Mess....

Its after 5 pm. I'm still at work...where I'm supposed to be studying for the LSAT. However, I'm on the verge of a Jessie Spano "I'm so excited" freak out. Poor ManCandy is taking me out to dinner in an hour...and I look a like the title above. So, what to do? Aimlessly and random blog...

Now that its officially winter and officially shitastic weather, I look to the iconic Carolyn Bisset for inspiration on how to appear effortlessly chic.

Annnnd she knew how to rock a woman suit.

Have I mentioned how awful studying for the LSATs is? Legally Blonde is such an inaccurate portrayal of what it takes to get a 179.

These cannot go without mentioning. Nicholas Kirkwood-Rodarte.

Guess who? Can you believe this is Martha. As I perused thanksgiving recipes for pumpkin cheesecake I stumbled upon it. Martha Stewart....once a model!

The best pic of my boys from Halloween...please note the "Broad Street Bear" He actually is on youtube. He wore the bear costume during the World Series Parade post Phillies big win, got hammered and pranced around in the middle of broad street.

I know I know.....I've been terrible at posting.

I swear....Ive just been uber-busy in recent times....I vow I will be better!!!

And, most importantly, post the evidence that I've actually been doing fun things/drinking without abandon recently!

Faceoff

Is it possible that my new girl-crush surpasses the old?

I have a well-documented obsession with Lauren Conrad.

And I no longer get my weekly fix.

Luckily season five part 1 is on shelves.

I am a victim of marketing....I will totally buy a magazine with LC on the cover...even if I don't want to "lose 2 pounds in one week!" or "new positions to wow your man!"

And I totally was on the Kohls website trying to buy pieces from her line. Did you hear me? Kohls! BBBLLLEEAAAAAA!

But this hot little bitch is quickly becoming the fore-runner.

I watch The City for Olivia Palermo alone....not to watch Whitney do the "single ladies" dance with m-fuf Roxy. (majorly fucked up face=mfuf) (majorly fucked up body=mfub)

Why can't my ass look like that in liquid leggings?

Does she ever get it wrong?

Serious toss up as to who wore it better. Olivia should have had hair down. But the necklace is so siick....ehhh I can't decide.

Like....where have you been?

Yes, yes....I have been neglecting this blog horribly. It's been about a month since my last post (which was pretty much just a pissy ramble) and the four people that read this blog have just been dying to know what's been happening. Well, in all seriousness, my work life got busier, I started studying for the gay-ass LSATs again (bain of my existence), and exploring my new(ish) neighborhood/the city. Also, I had time to stop around and cry like a little girl about my leg without involving readers into my 23 year old temper-tantrum. So, I decided it was time for a neat little blurb on TGIF.

By default...I've been spending many-a-nights hanging with ManCandy and his ridiculous roommates.....so here's cheers to yet another night full of the Nick Lachey special....its miller time.

I finally ordered this today. Since its a best seller....I cracked.

The broken leg has left me ample time to indulge in crappy tv.

Oh yeah, and I dyed my hair....again.

Still no heels allowed...but these will be my first purchase when I can wear them again!

Annnnd took a trip down to glorious Blacksburg for homecoming; realized I have not changed much since college.

Inspiration for my Halloween costume...Laura Croft Tomb Raider (non Angelina).

Obsessed with this trend for fall.

Since I've shrunk 4 inches, I need some sort of shoe porn to fill the void. Enter over the knee (albeit flat) black boots. I try to make them "go" with everything....some success has been noted.

I fucking want that bag so bad. How/why does Kristin Cavalerri have one!!!

Fucking Fuck

Times when FML doesn't cut it.


I've been a bad blogger recently, but lots has transpired in the past few days. So, I have a stress fracture...a bad one. It's really not thaaat big of a surprise. I had pain in my shins the past few weeks when running (training for the nyc marathon) but didn't think a whole lot of it. I ran the Philly Distance Run Sunday (a half-sie) and killed it (woop woop 1:39). Post-race, there I am...drinking a large frosty brew, hand deep in some nacho-fried-sobadforme-deliciousness watching the Eagles...happy as a pig in shit, when I realize I still have shooting pains resonating from my shin/lower leg. So I ask the bartender for some ice, and continue enjoying (well not really since the Eagles played like shit) the game. Still hurting hours later, I'm still convincing myself everything is cool. Monday morning: I can't walk. I'm limping around like goddamn Quasimodo. For the next few days I'm icing, taking it easy, planning my work attire around all the ballet flats I usually never wear, catching up on laundry and other asinine tasks, thinking I should get the gold star for my "recovery", but I'm still having shooting, excruciating pain radiating from my leg. I finally go to the sports doc today, hoping for a quick fix and some relief...but instead, I'm fucked. Hard. A "pretty serious" stress fracture in my tibia. Shhiiiittt.

No heels, no flops, no shoes that "don't offer arch support" (wtf?), no running, no weight training of my legs...not even the goddamn elliptical/hamster machine. Oh, yeah....6 weeks recovery, so no marathon. I am beyond suicidal.

Oh, and the real kicker....no drinking on the pain killers. Fuck me.

Luckily, I have ManCandy to take care of me. I'm still pretty pissed, still in fug shoes, and still debating ripping a few shots on these percocets (hey, it is Thursday...), but the boy helps me stay upbeat. So, I'm going to put my time and energy formerly wasted on training, and try to study for the lsats, really cook awesome food, shop, and find a new hobby or two. Oh, and find some non-douche-y shoes and stop shouting profanities at girls in hot heels and runners. Boo.

I hate to be mean but...

I know, I know..."if you can't say anything nice...", efin whatev. I always feel extra gossipy on Fridays...

Lookin good. Skinny and mentally ill or bloated and sane?

Too soon?

Maybe Kanye was such a jackass (p.s. I love that Obama call him that) because he was fucking hammered at the VMAs.

These two fugly weirdos deserve each other.

LIES! ALL LIES!!! Photo at right was taken 4 weeks ago. WHY MUST YOU LIE TO ME HOLLYWOOD?????

The Queen Bee

It's been a really long time since I was this jealous of some one's life.....

OMFG. I want it.

I want your shoes.

I want your wardrobe.

I want your man. (I'd rip those khakis right off.....)

I want "the City" part deux. (I swear I DVR and fast forward through the scenes not involving Ms. Palermo.)

I want your hair.

F-it. I want to be you.

Absolutely Fabulous!

Back in my second day of reality after an uber-fun weekend away. Why am I in such a glorious mood? Well, little grasshopper, its because Sunday marked the official return of Football season! 4 glorious months of Sunday Fundays and socially acceptable drinking on Monday nights. Also, the adoration and respect of all my guy friends because, quite frankly, my Fantasy team will kick your Fantasy team's ass.

Now that my dreaded move is over and done with, and beach season is officially over, I'm sortof excited to spend my first weekend really chiiiiiillin at home.

The past weekend was spent with ManCandy at a wedding in Detroit. Of course, this was anything but boring since yours truly cannot behave like a human 99% of the time. So, first off, our flight was cancelled. We tried to figure out the best possible solution for getting there as soon as possible, and retardedly ended up driving to Baltimore and flying out of BWI. (Reminder: I live in Philadelphia). Not to mention it was sorta during rush hour and sorta the worst weather I've seen in a really long time. Since there was no time to spare, we were dressed in what we were going to wear to the rehearsal dinner....read: formal dress. Yeahh got a few looks, haha, especially in my hooker-esque footwear.

So we finally get to Detroit...several hours later than planned. However, ManCandy bitched his way into 1st class (I mean, our flight did get fucking cancelled)...and that meant "taking the edge off" during the flight...if you catch my drift.

Now, I didn't really know what to expect from Michigan. My only concept of the place is what I've seen in American Pie....and my favorite Penn State Football T-shirt that reads "Ann Arbor is a Whore." Wholly molly. The Midwest is one different breed. We go to get the rental car and you would have thought that Foreign Car makers were the Devil.

Me: So....do we have to get a Chevy Cobalt?

Enterprise woman: You say that like its a bad thing. I mean, you can have any mid-size on the lot.

Me: How about that Volkswagen Passat? (insert beautiful, silver 2008 Passat)

Enterprise woman (as she shudders): Sure, take it. People rarely want that one.

AWKWERRRD.

So there we are cruising along in the Passat, getting stink eyes from the townies, when the groom to be calls us and tells us we missed the rehearsal dinner. So we say fuck it, and head to the crusty pub where the wedding party is now at.

Now, I'm not really sure what to expect, because the Bride and Groom to be are total "bros and bras". They're avid snowboarders living in Crested Butte, CO that operate a ski shop and manage one of the resorts. So, I know going in this may be less than traditional. The Bride's favorite color is purple....so I had heard the bridesmaid dresses were going to be plum. What I wasn't prepared for was the groomsmen to be in chocolate tuxes with suspenders and purple passion chuck taylors....

So, after a fun little post-rehearsal celebration, ManCandy and I are headed back to the hotel. We decide that we may need to purchase some "back-up" adult beverages for that night/post wedding. Enter Four Loko. So we pull of the interstate on some bumfuck/deliverance exit and pull into the post office/liquor store hybrid. We inspect the beer/malt beverage selection when a fine American citizen stumbles in asking the night manager for something specific;

Townie/bum:"I've had a real rough day man. What'll get me fucked up...fast and cheap."

The one-armed night manager dutifully recommends the wonderful cocktail showcased above. Without need for words, ManCandy and I decide we also will be purchasing "Four Loko"....

Me: "Can we buy this by the Case?"

Uni-arm Night Manager: "That's 11% pure alcohol little lady."

Me: "Did I studder?"

Five minutes later, and for the bargain price of $25.00, we were now the proud consumers of 32 Four Lokos.

We luckily used some restraint in our consumption that night. Saturday was mostly spent running errands and getting ready before the ceremony. A few "lokos" before and several vodka sodas after, ManCandy and I were feeling awesome by Dinner. Now, there were roughly 25 people at the Wedding for the groom (us included) and about 150 Michiganites there for the bride. I'm pretty sure it was only the Groom's "peoples" who were gettin down. The Groom's father started a conga line, the groom's brother looked like he was seizuring/on some good coke, and I was cutting a rug with "the relic" (i.e. a very limber Grandpa) to the best of my ability. The Chester County folk (Groom's peeps) kept the music pumping and the alcohol a-flowin for a good 6 hours. A girl told me my "rhythm" was incredible, and one of the waitstaff told ManCandy he had some "boss moves". However, nothing in my life can ever end well. As ManCandy tried to "leap-frog" me during a Rick Springfield song, I toppled back and slammed directly on my tailbone. You know you had a good time at a Wedding when you're webmd-ing "bruised coccyx" the next day.