Movin' on up

to the tumblr side. thehauteness.tumblr.com
I'm not sure what I'm going to do with this one yet...

This week, Flickr debacles, and my Christmas list draft

I've pretty much had this mental block against taking Friday classes since my undergrad days. Well this semester, I've taken it a step further and incorporated Thursdays as well so I can intern 2 days of the week. This means that I don't have class tomorrow, Tuesday the 25th. Explanation time. The New School, in their infinite wisdom, has one of the most effed up calendars since the Romans added July and August to the mix. We started the semester on a Tuesday. However due to Yom Kippur, we also missed a Tuesday and a Wednesday for all classes that started after 4:00p.m. So, instead of letting those Tuesday schedules cancel one another out, tomorrow we go to Thursday classes instead because they'll be cancelled for the holiday. But that means we have to make up the Tuesday class on the last day of the semester, December 23rd. Also, on Wednesday I have to go to any of my classes that start after 4:00. I have Silkscreen from 6-8:40. And we only get the weekend off. By now you should be thinking "Wait Rebecca, you don't have class on Thursday or Friday anyways, so this is just like a regular weekend for you, minus your internships which are all you live for during the week anyway". And to this I answer "Don't I know it" with my heart breaking inside. This will be my first Thanksgiving away from home. I'm pretty "meh" about it, though I do miss Troy. I know I'll see my family again in exactly a month**. So don't worry about me.

I spent 75 minutes in the Barnes and Noble on 18th street browsing the graphic design section and *gasp* reading the books. I was tres enthralled and if I get reincarnated I want to come back as, in this order, one of Oprah's puppies, hard balls lawyer, doctor, graphic designer, CFO of a Fortune 500 company. I ended up buying a book called Special Packaging because I really want to present my final project in a different way that everyone else's. So I have to prove to my teacher that I can make one by Monday. Game on Nina...
On a related note, I want more design related books for my collection. Graphics Alive and Girly Graphics *cough cough*. But not for Christmas. The only thing I want is this:
I came across it as I was searching for more ways to fold boxes. My life's path has kind of already been decided for me by myself. I'm going to graduate, become a lowly design assistant or build a design consortium with friends while living in a rehabbed loft probably in Soho or Park Slope while paying off my mountains of debt. Then some big buyer is going to stop me on the street one day while I'm wearing one of my original pieces and ask me where I got it. I'll tell them I can have samples made up for their stores by the next week. I'll sell to them and make my first fortune. Then I'll be able to move to the Upper East Side and also have a condo in which to 'summer' in Chicago. And that's where this chandelier will go.

**I have a pact with God that I can't die in New York City. It's too shameful for both of us.

And bless mommy and daddy and Kanye West...

So I have 808's and Heartbreak (yes, a few days early but that's beside the point), and I can't help but feel awful for Kanye Omari [West]. Clearly his mother's death, as it would have done to any of us with half an emotive inkling in our bodies, affected him greatly. Coupled with the end of his 18 month engagement with Alexis P, he's going through some deep shit. While searching for the album art on the Goog, I came across this interview he did with the Telegraph.

"The reason why I feel I had to give a little introductory speech before you heard the album is because this is not hip-hop music," he says. "Taking a sample, looping it and doing all that 'throw your hands up in the sky' thing has become such a cliché. Hip-hop is over for me. I sing, not rap, on this album. I now want to be grouped among those musicians you see in those old black and white photos - the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, the Beatles. And I'm not going to get there by doing just another rap album full of samples. I've had to create a whole new musical genre to describe what I'm doing now and I'm calling it 'pop-art' - which is not to be confused with the visual art movement. I realise that my place and position in history is that I will go down as the voice of a generation."

I'm happy for him for being/ thinking himself an evolutionary, even though I will forever love all his cliche stuff too. Howevs, this album is not up to his standards of excellence. Far be it from me as an adoring fan to have high expectations for a quaternary effort. There's parts of certain songs where he channels everyone's voice from Ozzy Osbourne's to Phil Collins', unintentionally unearthing their best kept autotune vocal secrets. Some of the efforts sound unfinished, and more importantly, there's not one cocky, sophomoric, or braggadocious rhyme to be heard. Come on 'Ye! Are you telling me that lines like "You remind me of my Jeep but not no Kia, we can talk on my cell but not Nokia" are beneath you now? Is this bland hologram of your former self all we have to look forward to now? Are you done with your era of being America's favorite sore winner? I sincerely hope not.
Well, he gets a soul clap from me for his efforts. And a trip to Targ on Tuesday to get the actual jewel cased LP. I implore you to buy the album as well, this time I think he needs the money...

Don't you know you're like a candle I'm the only one who handles you...

I've taken to not even opening my iTunes anymore, cause all the songs I love are already on iPhoney. So I'm sitting here watching American Dad, browsing funkylala and listening to songs on my phone, when this gem comes up:

If you can't see, that's Cold Blooded from the Rick James: The Ultimate Collection. No shame, it's on there for a reason. In fact, the only time I'm ashamed of any song on my phone is when I finish listening to "Tape You" from In Search Of...,Pharrell says "And cut...and action", and the subsequent simulated sex act on the outro. And even then I'm only semi ashamed, and only when I'm near old people and the volume is all the way up. I'm sorry, the underlying beat is tres mesmerizing (minus the slurps and moans).
The next song in iPhoney's shuffle was "The Cliche Lil' Wayne Feature", by my favorite up and coming rapper, Wale. He's great. Get on the bandwagon before he blows up (more than he already has, he's produced by Mark Ronson and has cosigns from every respected MC in the game). He released a highly anticipated mixtape this summer called "The Mixtape About Nothing". I know what you're thinking, and here's the album art:Love the Jordans mixed in with the Seinfeld shoes! It's a free download that I highly suggest. My favorite tracks are The Opening Sequence, The Manipulation, oh fuck it I like them all. He's a genius wordsmith. Also, Julia Louis Dreyfuss makes an appearance at the end of one of the songs. But I can't remember which one. I'm going to retry the Flickr thing because that first picture was #2206 on my camera and if my memory card gets corrupted I'm so screwed. Also I have beautiful and incriminating pictures of you all to share...Like this one

I love blurry drunken pictures because they encapsulate the spirit of the time. I think this was the night with the gypsy cards, which was one of my favorites. Ok, I gotta go to sleep. I can't miss 2 internships in one week, it would be unsouthern*


*Golden Girls inside joke...with myself?

P.S.- If you noticed, the asterisked portion wasn't linked when I originally posted this, but I decided to do a google search for the words golden+girls+unsouthern for the hell of it. Wow, EVERYTHING is on youtube.

Doing my Homevorks

No, that isn't a typo in my title. I'm just a bitch for mocking my Romanian teacher's accent. I called in sick at LaRok today. I think it's a stress induced illness. Scratch that, I know it's a stress induced illness. I'm overworked and thinking about the money necessary to pay back this educational endeavor scares the shit out of me every day to the point of my present sickness. Side note: I think my pinky is broken and has been for at least 2 weeks. Howevs, I don't have time to get it checked out. Ok, that's the end of my sadness. I'm kind of glad to be immunocompromised bear, because I get to get some of my homework done. Last semester I was bogged down, taking 8 classes and my gpa was subpar by my standards. This semester I know what's expected of me and I'm getting straight A's at the moment. Yay me. And my classes are all so fun and I'm going to be so sad when this semester is over. For my processes and skills class- basically an intro to graphic design- we've created ourselves as a brand, complete with logos, hangtags, and business cards. Here's the business card I made for homework, the mirrored r's are my logo (we had to include the bleed on the cards for the printer):My teacher's name is Nina, and she's from England. She says "Jolly good!" all the time and we get tea breaks! Also, her husband baked us cupcakes for our midterms. How cool is that?


I also love my technical drawing class. We make production flats in Illustrator. You may recall a few years ago when I wanted to marry Macromedia Flash. Well I change my mind, I want to marry the entire Creative Suite. We just have the same principles and ideals. I'm supposed to be working on a button down shirt while I'm typing this but shit's not working out.
Anyways, we had to create a collection of 4 basics in 2 colorways for the midterm. Here's one of the colorways:And in silkscreen. Don't even get me started on the sheer coolness that is silkscreen class. I wanted to print a Ryan McGinness, but my teacher wanted me to alter his perfect works. I see why, Ryan's medium is silkscreen so it would just be a plagiaristic reproduction. But that was just one of my phenomenal ideas, so instead I'm printing this in CMYK:I have to make 20 but only turn in 2 so if you want one, holla! I'll post pictures after I do the screens which should be next Monday morning if I wake up for it. So that's my life right now. TTYLZ!

It's November already?

Wow, it's been a while. It's midterm season and I've been quite busy. Looking back on my life, this will be one of the biggest shames , but I missed all Halloween night celebrations because I had to make a coat for class (Halloween afternoon was a different story). I have lots of pictures and several stories to tell, but let's be honest-I never get back to things I say I'll blog about later. I get more sidetracked and then the stories become outdated and irrelevant. Like the rest of Unofficial weekend or my first trip to Ikea on the BK ferry back in early September (And I shot video for that too!). I suck at life so you don't have to. One thing I won't forget about, I need to vimeo my N.E.R.D. concert videos I took. That was by far the best October 4th I've ever had. I was going somewhere with this. Maybe not

It would be completely remiss of me not to first congratulate the 44th president of the United States of America, Barack Obama! I wish I was back home, I'd be in Chicago right now to celebrate this in Grant Park in the presence of my life's idol, Oprah. If ever there were an occasion where high cincos are appropriate, I think this is it. I try not to get too political on bloggy because for the most part, I don't care. I'm a firm believer in things happening one way or another and working themselves out, regardless of human intervention. A hippie, I know. But in that aspect, politicians are kind of useless in my day to day life. Not to mention that this victory has me paranoid beyond belief. In case you haven't noticed, I'm black. And I live in New York City. So if some shit's gonna go down, chances are it's gonna happen here and to me. I mean, not that I'll be drawing any unnecessary attention to myself today when I go to class by wearing my cobalt blue thermal and gold donkey pin (Thanks Andrew!) I'm a fashion student damn it! On a semi-sentimental note, I do wish my grandmother (on my mom's side) was alive to see this. She grew up in the antebellum south in what is still one of the most racist areas of the United States; it was so awful that she ran away at the age of 12 to Chicago.Crazyness. Anyways, I say semi-sentimental because my grandma wasn't the "lovey dovey- bake you cookies- knit you sweaters" type. She was the "straightforward- street smart- and absolutely hilarious" type. Though this is an historic* event, she wasn't one for sappy situations, and my brother and I concurred, simultaneously that her response to the election results would have been "I don't care. Barack Obama ain't shit. Get me my coffee, 2 creams 6 sugars." And people wonder where I get it from... I really didn't stand a chance.

*I think I've become an elitist. Every word that begins with a vowel or the letter "h" gets the article "an" from me now. It's not much different from regular English, but it adds an air of snobbery because I mute the "h"s. I've caught myself saying "It's quite brisk, I'll need an [h]at today." It's like I'm in a Vermont equestrienne club or something.

On another note

Hugh Hefner's not with Holly anymore. Because she wanted to get married and have kids. I actually liked Holly, but srsly? Kids with Hef? My thoughts "Well, she got with him when he was like 65+, what did she expect? Can he even have kids anymore? Viagra or not, that schlong has seen better days..."

Hell Shit Damn

It has come to my attention that expletives are so ingrained in my lexicon, that I have begun to subconsciously include them in my thoughts. For example: I've decided to keep in touch with everybody by resurrecting the long lost art of letter (or postcard) writing. So as I walked out of school today and passed Kate's Paperie, there was a sign that said 50% off personalized holiday greeting cards. My first thought: "I'm getting some fucking Christmas cards made!" As I continue to walk down the street, a ridiculous image of myself in an ugly 1980's era holiday sweater, reminiscent of Jeanne Bice and her Quackers (quack quack*) arose in my brain.

A bit of an aside- *If you've ever secretly wanted to kill the people in charge of those atrocious holiday sweaters- ever so popular with grandmothers, grade school teachers, and motherly office workers- look no further than the Quacker Factory. A few years ago, I stumbled upon their treacheries one day whilst channel surfing; there was an old white woman (Jeanne Bice) wearing a Sylvester Stallone circa Rambo headband and pimping these monstrosities on QVC. I can explain away, but pictures are worth a thousand words. They've also formed a "ganga" called the Quackers, and their code for recognizing compatriots on the streets is "quack quack".
So anyways, I'm walking and thinking about taking a picture in one of those sweaters with my hair all feathered and wearing Christmas light earrings. Being as detail oriented as I am, lighting crossed my mind and this is the thought rant on which this whole blog post is based: "Ooh, and it's got to have like fucking ridiculously soft lighting, I mean, put an Olan Mills first communion lighting filter over that bitch. Like, 1960's intimate portrait picture in picture fucking soft lighting. Melted butter soft lighting." But yeah, you'll all be getting Christmas cards.

Define "gall"

"brazen boldness coupled with impudent assurance and insolence."

I would even say effrontery is a better word for what these people have.

So let me get this straight, "financial sector"*, you want $700 billion dollars from the taxpayers (nee me and mine) to help you fix your fuck-ups, completely resulting from bank greed and trying to piddle in as much interest as possible on loans too costly for their recipients because of unexpectedly adjusted repayment schedules, and yet you (nee financial sector) bitch about the newly passed (as of yet only passed by the House) "Credit Cardholder's Bill of Rights", that states that credit card issuers have to give 45 days notice to customers (again, me and mine) before increasing interest rates and are now required to mail out bills 25 days before they're due instead of 14?

So, the availability of our money is only important to you when you need it? Hmm, that's a concept. That's not even like biting the hand that feeds you, that's like biting at the air right before the spoon. Like that Val Kilmer "Top Gun" bite. Also, does this mean that every taxpayer who contributes to the bailout is a shareholder of the companies in need? In any other free market circumstance, that would definitely be the case.

*I don't like when they say Wall Street because it's 2 blocks from me, and dare I say that street is gorgeous? Absolutely nothing wrong with the street. At all.

And the heterosexual world heaves a collective sigh of relief...

I'd be more shocked if he said he was black.

True Life: I'm an art hobo,

Is it ridiculous that I had to buy 2 very expensive Moleskine sketchbooks for class, and yet I still draw my spur of the moment ideas on the backs of dates passed from my Simpsons desk calendar? I had a dream that Catherine Malandrino asked me to be her intern and I desperately tried to fit another event into my already packed schedule (I think we worked it out for Mondays from 4-4:06 p.m.). Anyways, while I was in her showroom (in my dream) I saw all these beautiful dresses, but when I woke up at 8:30 for my real Thursday internship (with LaRok) this was the only one I could remember. It looked much better than this in the dream. It was a flowy lightweight kelly green cotton with kind of a Herve Leger diamond panel that's like stretchy seatbelt material. I'm definitely going to make it (or something like it) for the gallery show in the spring semester. And I'm going to embellish the shit out of it.
I'm not sure if I should have taken pictures, or if I can post them or not (because some of the stuff is for upcoming seasons), but for the last (and only) 2 weeks of my Thursday internship, I've been running errands in Midtown, which I love, and embellishing tops with rhinestones, pearls, beads, et cet, which I also love! Today, I got sent on the town (beading town) with a limitless credit card to procure inspirational beads at an awesome wholesale store. They had every bead you ever wanted and some you didn't even know you had an affinity for. She didn't give me a limit, but I couldn't bring myself to spend more than $50.50. I'm growing up? Later, on one of my drop off errands, I came upon an elevator with a TV in it! Aah! Being the midwesterner I am, I had to take pictures of this demon elevator:

Maybe I should get a tumblr like everyone else, I think pictures would be easier. No, I've always been a rebel...Anyways, here's the pictures of the top I embellished today:
P.S.- I added a new blog label. It's a line from one of my favorite movies, The Intern, starring Dominique Swain. It's great. You should Netflix it.
P.P.S.- I don't know what I was thinking being lazy and trying to link these pictures from my gmail.

Spam Tattletale, Me=you missies

So I was going through the spam folder of my gmail today, and I got an ad for "Sending bulk e-mail blasts". Being an emeritus marketer, I quickly cut through the bs and to the core of the ad: You're essentially paying to set up spambots for whatever endeavor you want. My initial reaction was a 2nd grade "Ooh, I'm telling!". But whom to tell? Google allowed the ad and technically I didn't have to click on it so it's all my fault. But that was kind of the highlight of my day, being smart and deductive. Also, I'm not gonna drag this out, long story short, I miss everyone that reads this little bloggy. I guess you don't know what you have until it's gone, and it's true that you can never come home again. Something will have changed and things won't be the same as the glory days in which you remember them. I know I'll see you all again, some sooner than others. I just wanted you to know in case I get gnawed to the bone by rats on the subway (very likely), or get cholera from the condensation of air conditioners that drops from condos as I walk down William Street (more likely that you would think). Lovesies!

Ridiculum

I'm supposed to be making a skirt, but I'm watching my favorite movie, The Emperor's New Groove, and I also got sidetracked by one Justin Randall. And to take it all the way to the extreme, I was reading Crunk and Disorderly, and she made a comment about Fantasia's feet looking like Bowser's so I wikipedia-ed him. I just got a great idea that I'll do sometime very soon. I'm going to link every word of a future blog post to a relevant link. Oh, and now I want 2 tattooes. The second one is Helvetica upper and lower case R's, inspired by this. Not gonna lie, I kind of love American Apparel, try as I may to distance myself from everything they stand for. I just ordered the 3 pack of v-necks late last week (the navy, red, and yellow), and I wore the purple one today, I still have it on. These shirts are glorious, say what you will about their overtly sexual advertising.


P.S.- PLEASE VOTE FOR R! It's not fair, if R doesn't get picked I won't have either of my initials represented! Damn my parents and their love of alliteration!

I'm Back!

Unlike some bloggers I know, I don't space my updates out so I'll have a lot to talk about at once. Rest assured that any percentage surplus of RR related news is in direct correlation with my percentage of laziness and procrastination (I'll make a chart later). So it came to pass that I'm back in New York City! Yay! The departure was without incident- I bought a book, and I even got to watch the Fresh Prince Labor Day marathon during the flight, which sadly will be my last television viewing until I go home for Thanksgiving. It's okay, I have plenty of activitahs to entertain me. For example, my 3 roommates are all really cool, so we actually do things together. Last Friday night, we all went to a burlesque show. The only thing I could think of for reference was Her Maison's Derriere from the Simpsons, but this was much, much different. Some lady swallowed a sword (maybe a pun was intended that I just now understand) and then bounced up and down sending her pasties into a clockwise/counterclockwise tizzy. Sufficed to say, a great time was had by all. Wow, no red lines came under the word "tizzy", so I guess it's legit. Anyways, Saturday morning we went to the Fred Flare sample sale in Brooklyn. It was glorious, but based on my experiences with the website, it wasn't as glorious as my standards had built it up to be. We also got there a tad late, so blah. I got a Japanese talking watch for $2! Unfort, it speaks the time every hour regardless of whether or not you have turned that particular feature off, so it's caused me some strife. While walking back we realized we were in Polish town, and decided to go to Alter Brooklyn, a cool consortium type of store, where my roommate bought a jacket (which later had to be returned because the rain made the black tissue paper it was wrapped in bleed onto the jacket, effectively ruining it.) Such is life. I'll end this here and talk about my Sunday in my next post. Soonzies!

Precious Blankie

This really doesn't count as a legitimate post, it's more so I can link to this picture for some peeps. Enjoy boys! The picture is pretty fuzzy because Troy kept trying to bite the corners (and my hands) as I spread the blanket out. And though I do love taking pictures of my dog, this one was completely unintentional, he just wouldn't move.

I'm embarrassed for you?

I'm an Olympic enthusiast at my core. I really enjoy the coming together of a people with an ambitious athletic spirit from all walks of life to fight towards a common goal of glorifying their homelands. I love Olympians. Which is why I am absolutely disgusted that they have to share that moniker with these GD fools. Race walkers?

Random Thoughts

I've had lots of random things happen to me lately. Here's what I can remember:
1. In an asinine attempt at solidarity with my octogenarian soulmates, I cut off my ponytail. Ugh. That's one sisterhood act my scalp wasn't expecting.
2. I just slobbered on myself.
2.5. Did you know that slobbed isn't a word?
3. I desperately need to change my ringtone. It's "crickets" now. I can't tell you how many times I've said "No, dumbass, your phone isn't ringing, you live in the G-D forest" or conversly "Yes dumbass, your phone is ringing. There aren't any crickets in Target". And this was week 1...

Some fixins' and another picture of my love

I know nothing of CSS to change my template.(Cascading style sheets, don't EVEN get crazy and think I'm talking about Cansei de Ser Sexy). So unfortunately, I didn't update anything per se, but I did change my color scheme. The neon on black thing, though easy on the eyes, was kind of harsh on the soul. So now it looks like a geriatric jogging suit. Love it! I also changed my headline picture. The tiger with the bad ass hair is an image I plan to get tattooed on myself in the very near future, and also my temporary background picture for my phone. My permanent background picture is this one:

He's amassed quite a few nicknames in his 6 months: "Troybee", "Boy Toy", "Boosh Boosh", "Puppy Face", "Skateboard T", "Glucosamine and Chon'Troy'ton" (and yes, I do actually call him this). And for those of you that care, yes, his collar is cobalt, I picked it out so that it would "pop" against his fur. I think there's no better way to end this post than to take that dollfaced precious for a twilight walk.

Can I get a Gob Bluth "Come On!"

Now I understand that I've lost some of my smarts, I've accepted that it's directly correlated to my love of the sauce. But DO NOT insult the intelligence I have left.
16? Srsly? And this is not in any way to dismiss or augment the shitty performance of the American women's team,they didn't deserve to win gold regardless. That girl straight fell on her ass, and the US still got silver. Silver? Srsly? There are some treacheries afoot, however China isn't the only one at fault.
I say, if you can pull off mind boggling feats of agility at age 12, more power to you. Besides being innately underhanded, the only fault the media can find in the age dishonesty is that "Older gymnasts feel more pressure to perform and therefore are more likely to mess up, 12 year olds just don't feel as big of a burden" This is your argument? Really? (I feel srsly would marginalize my disgust). Asians have always had the most dignified cultures so bent on preserving traditions and glorifying their respective territories with their accomplishments. If anything,the Chinese team felt more pressure, especially since they're the home team.
Another thing I can't take about this Olympiad is the constant Michael Phelps coverage. Good for him, he is the epitome of a great American athlete. (and I'm not even being sarcastic). But does anyone else notice that he's getting sick of the after race interviews? I've seen him go from elated to indifferent to annoyed to a kind of cocky assurance. All I'm saying is: in regards to attitude, don't go from Mary Lou Retton to John McEnroe within a span of 2 days. It's completely inconsistent with the also constant vignettes that NBC keeps putting up pretty much calling him "Athletic Jesus". That is all.

Chienne*

Wow! Someone tell France they left their testicles in the pool. That is all. I have Olympic Fever for the first time in 12 years!! Though nothing will ever beat Atlanta in my mind, Beijing is already carving out a soft spot in my otherwise hardened heart. I have I-phoney set to receive text messages 30 minutes before the men's 100 freestyle. The whole time difference really threw me off and I missed the Men's Relay last night. During the opening ceremony, I saw this gorgeous bronzed man walking with the Mauritius team so I googled the whole team and found out that the 100 was his event. Therefore I must watch. And I shall. Also, this has rekindled my unrealistic desire to compete in Olympic competition. Alas, I don't think they'll add sassing as an event any time soon.


*Bitch, in french. I'm such a good sport...Go America!
**- I had to change the original video b/c youtube removed it. However this one is far more "Crunk", so...

Putting My Second Degree To Good Use

Thanks to an online tutorial I found from Mike [Gonzales], (THE Mike of Mike and Chris!!) I'm making a Hooded Tunic soon! It seems super easy and hell, I'm sick of Mario Kart. Did I say that?
I LOVE Mike and Chris. I know I always introduce the things I love in retrospect, and that's because I'm very protective of what I like and I'm far too lazy to find new things to like in the event that my "ace" items get discovered by the masses. Also, who just right off the bat says "I like this and this and this and this and this and this and this"? It seems so all-inclusive as not to be controversial. I like to titillate the senses with the element of surprise once in a while. Anyways, Mike {Gonzales] and Chris[tina Park Gonzales] are a husband and wife design team that make high end items mostly from sweatshirt material with crazy sleek modern details.
Exhibit 1:

I'm selling my kidney for that. Very soon. I already own 1 thing from them that I got on "Clearance Ridiculoso". Here it is:

However, Rocksteady and Bebop didn't cooperate and I looked overtly busty which was admittedly not my intention. Alas... Ok, night night bear. And tomorrow, I'll breathe new life into an oversized Illinois sweatshirt.

P.S.- I completely forgot how to spell "breathe" back there.

Oh Sprint, how I will miss ye...

Activating IPhoney has already caused me mental strife. I'm trying to get off my shared plan without effing up my sister's service. So I called Sprint for counsel. As of now, I am on the phone whilst typing this. This is actually my second attempt at calling Sprint. Because in my dumbassness, the first time I called went a little something like this:

Automated Sprint Lady: "Welcome to Sprint, para espanol, oprima el dos"
Me: *hits 2 button*
*sits*
*rethinks*
*regrets*
How far we've come Sprint. From the Sanyo 8100 purchased almost 5 years ago to the second Sanyo 8100 to the Red Motorola Razr I got last summer to its untimely death at the hands of my unsteady drunken hands on New Year's Day to its revival, and 3 months subsequent death in New York City when I had just started to like it, to it's identical replacement, whose valiance in the face of adversity cost it its back on the 7th floor of Parsons, nestled comfortably under lockers and betwixt some dust bunnies from which I was too scared and hygienic to retrieve it.
I certainly will NOT miss being on the phone with customer service EVERY month for the past 60 months for gripes with inflated bills wrought with bogus charges from your company. Tschuss Sprint. See you in hell.

P.S.- Am I a nerd because it's taking me so long to activate this phone because I'm reading the EULA in its entirety?

So I'm kind of "into" menswear chic

I want a phony men's Rolex as my timepiece of choice. But $650?? Pshh! I can't wait to get back to my wart nosed gypsy style haggling on Canal Street.

Estelle Getty would have laughed

As you all know, the Golden Girls is my favorite show. I think 2 years ago, the"About Me" section of my Facebook said "I check imdb every morning to see if one of my beloved Golden Girls has died" Well, on Tuesday it happened. Sad face bear. Being ridiculously awkward in these types of situations, I wasn't exactly sure how to tackle the issue of Estelle Getty being dead. I'm saddened and all, but she was 84 and she led a great life and touched a lot of people's lives.

Me: So they're having a special Golden Girls marathon this Friday
J: Why?
Me: Because Estelle Getty died
J: So is that what they're gonna do? They're gonna have a marathon every time one of those old bitches hits the bricks?
(less than 1 second passes)
J: I TOLD YOU I HAD A HARD DAY AT WORK!!
(We both laugh for like 5 minutes straight)

And I think Estelle would have appreciated that witty banter. This is how I want to remember her and the rest of the cast. I want this image emblazoned to my retinas so I'll never forget the feisty, fearless, fashion unconscious spirit of the 80's and all the emergences which it has spawned.

I have New York-lust!

I have a "spot" I like. I must, because right now I would kill for a bagel from Hot & Crusty.
After a quick Google search, I found out that they are a chain, but the one I went to was located on 42nd street, NOT 40th street like I previously thought. I went there one morning before a class fieldtrip to Anna Sui's showroom, and was so excited with the quality of the bagel that I got a scone for the road. And the scone was hard!! It was crazy. Maybe I'm the disillusioned one, but I like my scones hard and my cars American*. But everywhere I went in NYC, the scones were soft and orange-rind infused, I kid you not. Yes, even the "plain" ones. After several disappointing regurgitated scone boluses I had given up. Long story short, I am willing to travel from 14th st. to 42nd st./Times Square for my plain bagel with plain cream cheese. Other reasons I think I have New York lust- on more than one occasion this summer I have in all seriousness said "Gah, I would suck someone off for a Red Mango right now". That's major for me, but at those times it was a genuine sentiment. And for those of you who think Pinkberry is where it's at, know that they stole the idea from Red Mango, even down to the name. But mostly this " Ode to Manhattan" was prompted by me missing this place, where I resided whilst I lived in New York. But I'll be back in a little more than a month, Iphone and New York air of pretense both activated.

*Absolutely a joke, the only American cars I trust were made during or before 1975.

Damn me and my love of atrocious shoes!

Kathryn Amberleigh is going to clear out my bank account. Strategically.

I have no self control. I bought dese:

I believe it, but only because I know I have good eyesight

Dear University of Illinois,

Srsly?

Love,

R. "And I bet the crotchety board members of yore were only pissed off that they couldn't put the Chief's face on this craptrap*" R.

*- My initial thoughts.

P.S.- I would like to spread the word to incoming students that having school spirit doesn't mean throwing the word "pink" on cheaply made foreign goods and crudely plastering your alma mater's name across your ass. I'm sure the proceeds of this disgusting licensing venture will only go towards the most altruistic of causes, not some crappy new athletic "whatever". Not saying the athletes don't deserve anything, but first things first; the last time I was in fair Champaign, Lincoln Hall was "one good elbow nudge on a load bearing brick" away from becoming a catacomb.

P.P.S.- Now that the school has gone the way of the salacious (come on, people equate Victoria's Secret with sex) , I say we finally start taking donations from the most notable and hospitable alum of the school's rich and varied history, Hugh Hefner.

Is this what I have to look forward to?

Lady one:
"Hey, wanna go for a swim?"

Lady two:
"No thanks, I'm feeling a little irregular today."

Me, annoyed with unrealistic Activia commercial and then coming to a sad realization about adult prospects of conversation:
"WHO SAYS THAT TO ANYONE?"
"Well, YOU might once you run out of things to talk about."

Illini 'til I die

Which explains why I would ever even consider such an unnecessary item clearly aimed at desperate alumni clinging to their undergraduate yesteryears. Or because it's pretty damn cute. But mostly the first one.

I need hobbies

It is utterly amazing how much a sip of 7-up followed immediately by a Cool Ranch* Dorito tastes like a shot of Cuervo. I thought I was back in Mexico for a moment.


*- Note, experiment was conducted accidentally and the level of "coolness" implied by Frito Lay corporation of said ranch may affect your results.


Also, we had a freaking Moon Bounce in our backyard for the 4th of July. Be jealous, bitches!

Chuckie's Birthday

It's my brother's 28th birthday! As is tradition in my family, the 2 non-birthday siblings (my sister and I) called birthday sibling (my brother) as soon as we woke up and sang "You're the birthday, you're the birthday, you're the birthday boy or girl" from the Simpsons. Anyways, he'll be here next week and he has all kinds of Chicagoan activities planned. Can't wait!
In other exciting "me-related" news, I have decided to go into bridal design! I thought for sure I was going to do women's contemporary, in the style of Marc Jacobs (ugh), Love by Ya-Ya, Ingwa;Melero, etc. But I think that particular market is saturated and though I feel I could make innovative strides, it would take too long to break in to that particular niche. Though I've always loved Monique Lhuillier, Reem Acra, Lazaro, and Pnina Tornai, I never thought in a million years that I would be good enough to do what they do. But why not? I have the drive, I have the talent, by May '09 I'll have the skills, and I can only get better with time and experience. So I'm going to go for it. That is all.

Actually, I posted this, realized I forgot to format it, came back to change the font and font color, and had a thought: If I named my design company "Loose Stools", would you buy a wedding gown from me?

Slight Facelift, Nylon Rant

As you may notice, I changed my blog's header to something more festive. You may know N.E.R.D. is my favorite band ever, if not, check my last.fm for confirmation. Well it's been 4 years and the anticipation is crippling me, Seeing Sounds comes out Tuesday, June 10th. This will be the first CD I've legitimately purchased since Fly or Die. And I haven't even downloaded it yet! Scoff if you must, but I've made great strides. Completely unrelated I want this necklace:




It's from the Nylon X Karmaloop collaboration.

I LOVE streetwear collabos. Bape X Kaws, Collette France X BBC, Kanye X Tsubi, etc. They make my day. However I hate everything Nylon magazine stands for, which is why I hoped that when I saw "Nylon" it meant a completely different company than that pseudo hipster/haute rag that I shamefully have a subscription to. (Hey, they were giving them out for free at Urban Outfitters!) Don't get me wrong, they have thoughtful ensembles with absolutely delightful color palettes, but it's like they try so hard to be different that they come off as pretentious and admonishing to their target market. They laud up and coming designers, indie movies and books, and people who thrift, yet they juxtapose those with "famous for absolutely nothing" Cory Kennedy, party girls, and haute couture fashion that anyone can see they're supposed to be rebelling against. Maybe I'm not in their target demographic, which I think is late teen to mid 20's, but if I was an impressionable I'd be confused as hell. Trying to be "original", then being told what "original" is by the editors, people so desperate to cling to their teen years by imposing their views of youth upon me for their own selfish reasons, and then that company blatantly acting in opposition of those views by running the mainstream ads they choose in their magazine. The saddest thing to me is the people that write in every month. "Dear Nylon, I love your magazine. No one in this town gets me or my sense of fashion. They're so lame. When I graduate high school, I'm moving to New York, blah blah blah." The tried and true rural to urban Horatio Alger story, leaving everything and everyone behind to eventually become another New York whatever. Ugh. Sorry for the rant, it just pisses me off because they think they're on the cusp of trends, when everyone I know has already know about this stuff for ages, and then it gets infiltrated by teens and becomes uncool. But now who's being admonishing? That would be me. Let the teens have something to look forward to. They are the future, after all. But yeah, I really want that necklace.

WTF MATE?

I feel that this year musical artists' popularity is directly correlated to the amount of colors they can wear at one time before looking absolutely ridiculous. MIA, Santogold and Kid Sister are all hot messes and someday we'll look back on their fashion choices, cringe, and say 'What were we smoking?'. That is all.

It's Kart Season!!! And puppy season.

Very recent conversation between my sister and myself about our plans for the day:
Me: So when are we going to play Mario Kart?
Her: In about 20 minutes.
M: Ok good, cause you need the practice
H: YOU need the practice.
M: YOU need the practice, bitch!
M: I'm sorry, that was out of line...

We just, well we take karting very seriously in this family. Ever since 64. We dominate all challengers. I bought the Wii version Monday afternoon and I'm decent by my family's standards, but I did shame myself at Bowser's castle during a premature online multiplayer match Monday night.

Enough about MarKar.

My family got a puppy! Actually it's my cousin's dog but he was attacked by a Rott when my aunt was walking him (he was 2 months old then). They gave him a 30% chance of survival because that dog severely effed him up, but his gashes are healing nicely. Needless to say, he escaped the hustle and bustle of the south suburbs for a more southern suburb. He's recuperating with us, but I hope my cousin doesn't ever want him back, because I'm absolutely in love with this dog. And I could see how if that was misconstrued I would soon be put in jail for bestiality. But I'm going to attach a picture and you tell me your heart doesn't melt also. His name is Troy; his official name is "Boy Toy Troy, brings all the bitches joy", but I refuse to call him that. I'm also trying to convince my mom to not get him neutered. I don't want him to lose his zest for life, and there's no bitches around for him to impregnate anyways.

Look at What This City Has Done To My Language

So they're filming a movie (Julie and Julia) on the same street as my school. This, coupled with the annoyance of the Hollywood transplants at the Tribeca Film Festival , not to mention the creation of 2 dresses for finals week, has left me a bit edgy. I was already running late because over the past week I have been forgoing breakfast to make it to my 9:00's on time (2 tardies count as an absence and after 2 absences the teacher can fail you), and I physically/mentally/emotionally crash some time around noon, still having to be at school for at least an additional 10 hours after that. (Last night I left the building at 11:38-in the pm-, it was ridic) Well today since my class doesn't start until noon, I decided I was going to eat my plain bagel with plain cream cheese come hell or high water. It's a 20 minute trip to school, and I left my place at 11:50 so I wasn't expecting a miracle. As I get to 12th street, I see these huge trailers everywhere and then I remembered the pink signs that have been around for about a month saying that the street will be shut down today for filming of that movie. It was kind of crazy, the trailers have code name like "Lucy" and "Desi" on them. Being a Midwestern transplant, I'm not used to all the fanciness of movies being produced so close to me, so once I saw the title of the movie I imdb'd it for additional information and found out some general plot information and that it's starring Meryl Streep!!!! (The greatest actress in the history of the human being). So back to the story, by this time it was 12:05 and I was kind of annoyed with this pushy security guy that really wanted everyone to know just how important he was. He was being a total ass to everyone, not letting people pass, saying stupid stuff like "Lucy" wouldn't want you this close to her trailer", et cet. I honestly thought it was a joke because I was thinking that no one in their right mind would, nay could, be this douche-ish for real. So I tried to pass and he touched me and kind of shoved me off to the side. I paused. I timed out. I thought about it. Then it was instantaneously like someone shook up a pop and opened the top. The phrase "I don't give a good goddamn about Meryl Streep or her fucking trailer, I have to get to class. Now move it or lose your nutsack, buddy.", may have been uttered.* Gosh, I'm so New York now....


*I'll admit the "buddy" put it over the edge, but he deserved it. And I must issue a brief apology to Meryl Streep. I love you, you're my favorite.

Madonna and other late night ramblings

Staying in this Friday night because I have to wake up early and start my finals. Yay me! I'm making a dress with a yoked neckline and a contrasting lining. Pretty cute. But first I have to drape it, then make the pattern, then cut the pieces from the pattern, then sew it together. I think I'm the smartest person in the world because I bought invisible thread to hide my stitches, but I don't think that trick will really fly very far here... Added annoyance, some leg of the Tribeca Film Festival is taking place in my school on the first floor, and so every night when I'm leaving (at around 10-ish) there's a super cool party going on to which I was neither invited nor shown any request for my attendance. Boo-urns! I remember when I wanted to name my daughter Tribeca. I thought it would be witty and literal. However it would only be literal if my mother's name was "Becca". Then "Re-", and finally "Tri-".
But I think too much, I've been told. I remember talking to Pal and Ak in AP English senior year of high school, and telling them about how when I was in 6th grade, I wanted to be a scientist/ doctor hybrid and find cures for both AIDS and cancer. I thought the 2 diseases would cancel each other out since one is the rapid spreading of cells and the other is the rapid depletion of cells. What can I say? My logic was flawed at age 10. But the response was "WOW. When I was in 6th grade I was only thinking about my after school snack" and "Damn, no wonder you're in honors"...
I can't believe where my life has taken me. I really did want to be a doctor, and if I still had my grammar school drive and reading abilities, I know I would be 90% done. But as the years passed I became more and more disheartened as I realized that advanced pursuits of academia were not praised, but frowned upon by jealous teachers who realized that their students had more potential than they ever would (those who can't do, teach), and I became just like every other honors student. Doing just enough to get by (and somehow still getting straight A's). And being the reasonable person I am, I couldn't have someone's life in my hands contingent on me thoroughly knowing something that I just skimmed through in a book. Though style and fashion are extremely important to me , I can't see myself staying in a profession where I'm not directly helping people (in a non-superficial sense). Maybe I'll go back later and study for realz . My sister and I are still pretty good with anatomy. And no, that isn't a sexual reference. In fact, it's probably the lamest thing we do, or very close to it. We take turns, while using our "street gangsta voices" pointing to parts of others' bodies and shouting out the scientific name of the body part. We call it Labelin'. And Lord help you if you're the subject of a Labelin'.

For that, and several other reasons, I love my siblings. My sister and I just had a text-fight a few days ago that ended with a phone call from me saying:

"Let's just agree that school plays weren't good to either of us"
and her saying "Do you know how hard it is to sing 'Just a Spoonful of Sugar when your heart is breaking?'" (she played Mary Poppins.)

Then I had a conversation with my brother
"So, I'm not gonna help you pay to come home; I heard you came into some money as of late"
"Why, did mom tell you about my iPhone?"
"No, but that confirms it"
"Well I didn't buy it, it's long story"
"Where are you? it sounds like you're in a bazaar in Calcutta."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, they have all these Chinese-Mexican restaurants here. I'm in this one called Jorge Chang's"
(We both laugh hysterically for 5 minutes) End Scene.

About Madonna:
I didn't think that the career of this hypersexual youth-leech (I made that up and I just lol'ed at it, party foul) could be revived by anyone. Bravo Pharrell and Chad (and Timbaland), you've done it again. I've been listening to all the Neptunes produced tracks (and Miles Away) nonstop for the past week. Hard Candy comes out next Tuesday, I'd suggest going to buy it (to make up for the fact that I didn't). My favorite songs are Heartbeat and Incredible, I'll zshare if you want...

Ok, Tittlez (TTYLZ)

Continued from earlier...

To your chagrin or enjoyment, as promised, I'm back to elaborate on my earlier post. I just can't stop thinking about this. I'm hesitant to post this because this is retrospectively pretty damn dumb. Ok, here goes: This morning as I was going through my ritual of sexification (which doesn't take very long ;-)), and while brushing my teeth I thought about "The Devil Went Down To Georgia". Yes, the Charlie Daniels song that sets my heart aflame, played 68 times on my i-Tunes. And every time it's played I feel deep regret about the results of the contest and [shameless Rolling Stones plug], a bit of sympathy for the devil. How in the hell (no pun intended) did Johnny win? If you listen to the song, the devil had a great solo, an impeccable drumline, and dare I say, that "new sound". Johnny's solo, not so much of anything. From a young age, I've been taught that Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, et cet., is innately evil. However I was also taught to give credit where credit was due. He blew it out of the water. Mad props diablo. The maddest. Sadder still, in my unyielding quest for truth, I've found myself rationalizing -creating a side story where Johnny disqualifies the devil after his own admittedly mediocre solo for the devil's illegal and unapproved use of a backing band of demons. These are things I think about. I linked the song so you can tell me what you think. And it's ok if you don't want to be associated with me directly by responding in the comments section. Send me an IM or something. I know I would....

Mental Strife

As I sit at my computer, listening to the "newly re-added to Cabrini" N*Sync song, "Just the Two Of Us", preparing to go to school and do homework on this fine Sunday afternoon, I must say that something has been causing me much mental strife as of late. Taxing the limits of my psyche. It's weighing on my mind heavily and I have to tell someone to make sure I'm not crazy. I'll continue later... (I gotta get to school!)

Ridiculum, Real Groceries Later, Strife?, Music Game

So I just re-woke up for the day for real at 6:42 in the p.m. Pretty sad, I know. I originally woke up at about 11:00 with a great plan for the day. I was gonna stay in all day and do all of my homework, and get to sleep early because I have to wake up early to get shots to get the hold taken off my record so I can register bright and early Friday morning. (I'm kind of a pro, I have a great system). But when I woke up I thought about how I can't stay in one place for a long time unless it's a bed so I decided to go to Union Square and return these jeans to American Eagle (I think the store knows that I've fallen out of their target demographic age, I sincerely feel like Bea Arthur when I go in there now.) So, I did that. Then I realized that Monday night is my usual grocery shopping night, but I won't be able to do anything tomorrow night because I haven't done my Color homework yet and it's really time consuming because I have to paint, blah blah blah. So I went to Whole Foods (Why do I feel like I'm being judged?) and ran amok in the fruit and vegetable aisles. I've been feeling pretty sluggish lately, it's time to become a real person and take care of myself in more aspects than taking a Scooby Doo vitamin every morning. Then I remembered "I swear I went shopping last night after we went to that bar?" Hmm...."Yes, but you came back with 2 bags of chips and a 40 oz. and watched Disney shows, vommed a little, fell asleep, woke up at 11:00 and came to Whole Foods." My life, right? Anyways, while en route back to my place, I came up with a new plan: Sleep til 4:00, wake up and do homework while watching Arrested Development. Let's just say that didn't work out so well, refer back to the first sentence. So now I should deft. be doing my homework. The problem is that I have been a procrastinator for so long that I know exactly how long it will take to complete a project or a combination of projects, and my body (being the efficient machine it is) will not allow me to start before the point where I will have to end up in strife to complete it. So, I'm still gonna watch AD, but I'm going to start drawing at around 9-ish. Speaking of strife, I know songwriters have the damnedest time trying to find words that rhyme with "life", but why oh why does strife come up so much? They use it in the wrong context even. From all the songs I've heard, I thought for sure the definition had something to do with a deep internal struggle involving complex emotions, and possibly getting beaten on the back with a large wooden pole every day of your life. But apparently it means "Bitter conflict". I guess it's the same thing.
Ok, I really should start homework now. But before I do, I'm going to play the music game (Remembrance Edition). Just playing the first 5 songs that come on in my i-Tunes and saying what they remind me of. Maybe I'll come back and zshare them later.

1. (You Can't Blame It On) Anybody-Phoenix
Banana Republic. Next. That was rude, I love this song. It's actually the reason behind my "french" tag on the last.fm (We're in talks again, coming back from a trial separation). I did some digging and downloaded Alphabetical, their CD. Unfort, the rest of the songs sound exactly like that one. Alas.

2. Fuck Me Pumps- Amy "Wine-ho" "Winehouse
Not tooting my own horn, but I loved Amy Jade before it was cool to love her music. Hell, before she was on crack even. Before the media made her lose a stone. Ok, done tooting. This song reminds me of a night of supreme shames during my last semester of undergrad, when I woke up in a dorm and had to get back to my apartment one Friday morning. During that particular walk of shame, (Which I retrospectively nicknamed my 'stride of pride') "Pumps" was the first thing that came on Cabrini. I will never forget it because the song epitomized my future prospects if I were ever to become a gold digger. Except I don't wear heels out because I've busted my shit while wearing trainers. Stone, trainers? I feel so British. Thank you, Harry Potter.

3. My Cherie Amour- Stevie Wonder
This man is legendary. That's why I wish I had a better story for this song. I'll elaborate about his musicianship later. So, the story: Back in my high school days, some time around a holiday season- my brother was home from college-the neighborhood scoundrels got together for the "Street Olympics" (unofficial title) Everyone's hopes rode on the athletic prowess of their older siblings. At that time my brother didn't look like the American Gladiator he resembles today. That was before he took up the weights... back in his heyday, he was a track star that won every event he competed in at state. Needless to say, he won everything that night also. It was almost embarrassing to watch the race....But there was this sibling duo named Ronnie and Donnie (it even sounds obnoxious) that came in a solid #2. And you know me, I was taunting. So during the football portion, Donnie scored on my brother. Once. And Ronnie out of nowhere just comes over to me and says "My Cherie Amour". See, I told you I wish I had a better story than that...

4. She Wants to Move (Remix)- N*E*R*D ft. Common, Mos Def, De La Soul, and Q-Tip
Is it insane that I have 2 very different stories for the original version and the remix? Or a great story for every N*E*R*D or Neptunes touched song? Fuck it, they're my favorite. This story starts in Mexico. From what I gathered during my travels there, Acapulco is at the bottom of a spiraled cliff with no guard rails. And we traveled down that cliff in a rickety bus, and I had a window seat. I feared for my life every moment. But some solace about my potential demise came from the ridiculous lyrics of the song I was listening to on Cabrini. "Don't be the jellybean whose color turns green, be the proud man let go of her hand" I made it there and back so I can't complain, I'm still alive. Got some great pictures, beat a Long Islander in a Long Island drinking contest, got a tan (and you actually could tell), watched Hollow Man and the Hello Kitty show in Spanish, and found where I wanted to be buried...Before you think I'm deep, I'm referring to the tequila aisle in the Acapulcan Wal-Mart. It was overwhelming, even for the biggest liquor enthusiast. It took 9 panoramic shots to get the whole aisle. I think I'm going back next spring break.

5. Loop Duplicate My Heart- Suburban Kids With Biblical Names
Love this song. So Cute. I'm pretty eclectic with my music. I'll listen to anything. I think everybody's like that (With the exception of one friend who calls himself an 'elitist', because he worked-past tense- in an independently owned music store like 50 years ago. I know, I laughed too). So when I was scrobbling some song they came up as a related artist. And I thought to myself "That name speaks to me", considering that I am in fact a Suburban Kid with a Biblical Name." Giving water to a dying man was my deal in la Biblia, I think... So anyways I downloaded all of their songs that I could find. And that's my favorite of the lot. I have yet to skip over it in a playlist.

So I hope that gave you a little insight into my life at the moment. I think I'm staying here for the summer. And I'm so excited about visiting I-lean in April!!! Seriously, I just screamed...

Oh, Ebay....

Though I am not happy about the person that cock blocked my bid with 38 minutes left when I was the only bidder for the past 4 days, I am grateful for your bitchassness, as I never have and thusly will probably never need a Marc Jacobs canvas tote with "Boston" screenprinted on the back, no matter how cheap it was. I don't even like Marc Jacobs. Happy Easter everybody!

I know what you're thinking. I promise I'll finish about Unofficial later. Also, I need numbers. Referencing the title of my last post, "my phone be all dead and shit", and I had to get a new one. And who knew Sprint phones didn't have sim cards? Not I, said the cat...

Unofficial, Divine Payback, My Phone be all dead and shit, Muff's Birthday, Celebrity Sightings, and tears :*(

So Unofficial was way more subdued this year. My trek to Champaign was far more entertaining (in theory) than the day itself. In fact, if I hadn't gotten into that argument with that kid at the Murph, it would have been pretty forgettable. So let me start back at February 28th, the day it all began. Actually, February 27th. I tried to check into my flight online, only to find out that I had never assigned myself to a seat and they were all full. I panicked, and at the same time I was pretty "meh" about it. I had so much homework to do that weekend that staying here really would have been beneficial, but I digress. I called American Airlines customer service, and the lady was really nice and reminded me of the bumping thing (Carl Weathers style), and even asked me if I wanted to move my flight up to 4:30. I said no because I had a midterm for marketing and I didn't want to rush through it. Biggest mistake of my life!! Marketing starts at noon, the teacher gives us 10 extra minutes to get there because the elevator situation is so ridiculous. She then answered last minute questions about the test, which took another 10 minutes. All that, and I was done, out of the building, and in line at Chase by 12:36. So I get back and start packing. My flight was at 6:15, I was supposed to leave at 3:30, but I got ballsy and tried to leave at 4:00. There are no cabs within a 5 block radius because of construction, so I asked the doorguy (who is usually not nice to me) if he knew the number to a cab company. He called one of his "friends", and they came and got me (which was highly illegal, but I'm not complaining). By that time it was 4:30. So the cabbie started chatting me up about my life, school ("$40,000 a year!? are you crazy?" "Yes".) and asking if I had a boyfriend. I get that a lot. I should really come up with a more witty response. Anyways, we got there at 5-ish and the check in line was ridic. I got really pissed with myself for waiting til 4:00 to try to leave. So I started praying like crazy that I would make the flight, then immediately feeling really bad about praying to get on a flight to go visit and booze with my friends. So I just make it through check-in at 5:38, rush towards the gate, security screening (pretty uneventful, but the girl in front of me tried to bring on illegals-hairspray- and had to go to check them in, she was on the same flight as me, I felt bad). It is now 5:45, when the plane should start boarding. I say should be, because there was a mechanical error, and the plane was taken out of service, delaying the flight until they could find a replacement plane, which moved it back to 7:45. I was a little irritated at that point, but still happy to have made it to the gate in time. I had a connection to make. Long story short, American put my name on 3 standby lists and in all 3 situations, the list stopped 1 name short of mine. So I decided to booze it up and just wait til 7:45. Fine. Except, the flight has been delayed an additional hour, leaving at 8:45 out of another gate. I really wanted to cry, and even thought about lying and saying I was going to a funeral to elicit sympathy. Too low, even for me. So I called American Airlines and demanded a refund (I was at about a 45% on the bo-bober scale). And while I was bitching them out, I saw Common walk past. I couldn't say hi cause my phone was plugged into the charger and I was immobilized, so I just waved drunkenly in his direction and he smiled back. Chi-town love. By this time my original flight is boarding. I sat next to a fellow Illini alum on the plane, he had a Rose Bowl background and I pounced. We discussed the somersault and agreed it was tasteless yet deserved. Oh, December 32nd. The mistakes I made that day. Including dropping my phone in Eileen's toilet. Which is actually pretty integral to this story. But that's later. So we get to O'Hare, I know I've missed my connection, it's 10:30. I have 2 options: let American put me up in a hotel for the night, then take the earliest flight out in the morning, or be a trooper and take a midnight bus to Champaign, getting me there at around 3 a.m.. Well, bars close at 2, so I figured everybody would still be awake granted they didn't get too crazy. So I took the bus. While I was waiting, this 35-ish man with a hat that worked there started smiling at me closed mouth (this becomes important later). Being polite I smiled back. Tell me why he takes off his hat to reveal a thinning Jheri curl and smiles fully, revealing a top row consisting of 4 teeth at the max, and starts flirting with me, and again, asking me the boyfriend question... I seeked out a mirror pronto. I had to know what I was looking like. This is getting long, so let me condense the rest of the Thursday/Friday morning. The bus was packed, it smelled like breath and stoner. So I get to Champaign, my phone is 99% dead. I literally had 1 call left. I called Alan and told him to come get me and he said ok. It's freezing, it's snowing, I'm waiting. I'm thinking the best, "Oh, maybe he's clearing the snow off his hood", "Oh, maybe there's ice on the windshield", "Oh, maybe he's waiting for the car to warm up" 10. 15. 20 minutes pass and I'm the only person outside now. I honestly could have walked there in 2-3 minutes, but it was 3:30 a.m. (I found out later that Alan had indeed not budged from his drunken slumber, I would have frozen to death). I took a cab. I went around to the back door because I saw a light on and knocked for the better part of 10 minutes. Nobody answered. If you've read up to this point, you'll understand my frustration. So I go down the back stairs and write some obscenities in snow on the cars of everybody that lives there. Then I go around to the front and knock. And I heard a human voice that wasn't my own muttered expletives, so I got really excited. Oh yeah, it's 4 a.m. now. Senor Fabek opened the door and I was elated. But 4 a.m. "I've spent the better part of my day in airports and been given the shaft by no less than 4 modes of transportation, it's cold and I was just outside for 50 minutes" elated. I met Andrew who was "very excited to meet me" and just fell asleep on that couch of dreams.

You can see how living this, and then coming back later and having to relive it to write about it could be mentally taxing, correct? If not, you're a sadist. That being said, I'll write about Friday-present later.

P.S.- I know I switched tenses somewhere, I'm not sure exactly where.

I Know, "I Know", Saketinis

I'd like to think I'm pretty diplomatic in my friendships. If you're nice, I'm nice, et. cet. Only one person in my entire life has called me mean, and he doesn't even count in the general swing of things (In this capacity only, I love him otherwise) because calling someone mean is mean. So he canceled himself out of the vote. But I've been letting lots of things slide lately. Maybe because I'm out of town, the state of Illinois, the universe. Or maybe I'm maturing, or it could be because I'm trying to be more forgiving to prove that I'm not mean. That accusation really hurt; I had never heard it before. Most people can take my sarcasm bordering on bitchiness (Only if I think the recipient can handle it do I even initiate it, if I start sassing and they're not "down" I promptly apologize.) I don't know where this is going. I just want everybody to know that I'm not mean. In fact, get any of my friends from grade school, because yes, I do still talk with people from the 3rd grade, and they'll tell you that the LAST thing they would ever describe me as is mean. Granted, they've never seen me with 3 drinks in me stuck [rap lyric, google Philly's Most Wanted], but I'm not that different when I'm not sober. Ok, I can't even keep a straight face with that one. Drunk Becky has started some shit. I'll agree. But honestly, I know that left to my own drunken vices I'm a trashbag so it was never for my own selfish purposes. The most intense drunken bouts I've ever gotten into have been to defend my friends' honor. But never again [clearly] cause apparently they don't appreciate it and they don't like conflict and I made things much worse. Again, I don't know where I was going with this. I have to break the seal and my roommate's in the bathroom, so we'll see how that goes. I should mention that I went shopping with my [other] roommate today in Soho, and we got a little crazy at Peep. FOA [first of all], nunca [never] order a sake-tini. Just don't do it. As a skilled drink maven, I implore you. It's like 6 drinks rolled up into one drink cigar that you'll puff once and choke on. Not a good look. Don't. Don't. Don't. Proof being I'm composing this blog post with the 3 hour residue of ONE drink. I can't even do my homework. I can't see straight. And I'm talking about Spandex World to Jade. So steer clear. I miss everybody in Chambana, especially Adods, Rox-Pox, and for some odd reason, Pat. I haven't seen that kid since July. Or was it June? I need to quit like now. But I would like to end by saying that iTunes should let its users listen to their music at any volume they see fit. If I want Jay-Z ft. Pharrell Williams circa American Gangster "I Know" to deafen me, then damn it, it's my choice. The fact that you have gone limp dick soft since the 7.1 update is NOT my problem. Get your shit together iTunes, and let me make my volume adjustments up to infinity percent. You're lying to me when you say it's up 100% because I don't even flinch when I hear the song start, as happens with EVERY other song I have adjusted the volume for. That is all. I will SURELY edit this when I come down

Change of Plans

Ok, so I've been really busy lately, at the expense of my health even. I've slept a total of 10 hours since Sunday, and I'm probably gonna pull another all- nighter. I'm hallucinating a bit, and I can't see blue-green. Blah. So, about that V-day mix. It was the first thing on the chopping block, even though I really wanted to do it. But, not being one to disappoint, I decided to sum up my feelings on Valentine's Day 2007.2 with one song that gets right to the point.
So here it is.

Sensual Seduction(s),Fashion Week, MOMA, Last.fm

So in late November 2007 I came across Snoop Dogg's newest project, "Sensual Seduction". My initial reaction: "Who is letting this man continue to make music?". My sister hadn't seen it yet, and told me I should cut Snoop some slack; he's aging, et cet. I concurred and said "Who am I to judge?". Weeks later, I got a very panicked voicemail from my sister saying "Oh my gawd you were so right! I'm embarrassed for him! Why is this man still making music?" Granted it was very catchy, my 5 year old cousin knew about it before I did. Then again, she's the same person that taught me "Buy You a Drank". Conclusion being that whenever someone has made a major mistake in their life since then, I have referenced it as their personal "sensual seduction". I've had about 2 myself. That was completely random I know, but the song just came up on my iTunes and I decided to share. What?? Yes I downloaded it, I'm a horrible person and I need more songs for my Last.fm "ridiculous songs" tag.

So, about that Fashion Week: My Fashion Industry Marketing class got a behind the scenes tour on Thursday which was fun, but it definitely motivated me to step my game up so I'll be in the tent someday soon. The whole event was so beautifully orchestrated and I wish I could have seen more. We didn't get to go to Rebecca Taylor's show because it was in the salon or the promenade (I don't remember which), which don't have as many seats as the actual tent. I hate taking pictures, but I figured this was a once in a lifetime thing, so I took my camera just in case. Let's just say I got in 2 pictures before they Gestapo-ed my ass. That day I was kind of tired and didn't feel like flirting with the guy behind the desk (I'm certain I could have gotten into a later show), so I went to this giant magazine store with some girls from my class. I fell in love with S Publication but didn't buy it, but I bought the new Tokion. I hate buying all these magazines for class with the sole purpose of cutting them up for collages, mood boards, and croquis books. Meh, I'll get over it. That night I saw "There Will Be Blood". Great Movie. Daniel Day Lewis is such an underrated actor. And as with every P.T. Anderson film, there's the one scene where there's applause and cheering, always immediately followed by the "Oh shit" moment. I love it! I'd give the movie 3.8 out of 4. Some things weren't fully explained at the end, and I'm simply not smart enough to fill in any loose ends on my own, so for that I take away 2 tenths of a point. So turn off your Moldy Peaches, get off Juno's nutsack, and go see "Blood". Nothing against Juno, I haven't even seen it. Granted it has some of my AD favorites, whom in and of themselves should be enough motivation for me to see the movie. I just feel like this plot has been done. And I'm depressed that Michael Cera (or some other awkward nerdy-cute guy)is not gonna be singing to me any time soon.

So on to Friday morning! Pro-Ru finale runway show I got invited to. That came out really Yoda. But yes, it did occur. The event was in the tents at 9 a.m., one of the few things I would ever wake up for at that ungodly time of day. I'm not sure what I should say on the matter. I don't know anyone besides Eileen that reads this, (though I do have a lot of profile views) and some of my friends said they didn't want to know who was left. Pressure. I haven't really been keeping up with the show this season, lack of a tv being the major cause, but I heard it was down to 6 as of this week. At the runway show, they showed 5 collections to psych out the audience. So theoretically, if I tell you who showed, you'll know who gets kicked off next week. The 5 were: Myspace, Sweet P, Chris, Rami, and Jillian. Now, from what I saw, the winner should be between Rami and Sweet P. Jillian's wasn't up to her usual standard, the colors were awkward together and it didn't really tell a story to me. Myspace's stuff was all over the place, feathers and chiffon everywhere, and mostly all black with a few dashes of color. I give him a B+ for effort, but if his collection was indicative of all of his past works, he shouldn't win. It was standing room only because it was packed, but yes I did see Posh Spice. They actually tape the show in a different building than the one I have classes in. All my classes are on 13th Street. The other building, where they tape Pro-Ru is on 42nd.

So my Fashion Industry Design teacher is this crazy Romanian lady who was telling us about how they made her take cadaver labs for sculpting when she went to undergrad in Transylvania. Because she did not crack a smile to indicate some sort of jocular tone, I was genuinely terrified. But I've come to the conclusion that she's hilarious and 90% harmless. She told me I had the wrong croquis book and made me go buy a new one. Which I did, even though it was $30, because I fear her. She also told us as a class that we had to take pictures of people in good outfits, and "not so good outfits. And if you're scared, wait until they have walked past, passed you, and snap then. Snap Snap Snap!" She also encouraged us to read books and visit museums, for which I genuinely thank her. I miss being cultured and knowing about things. And wrapping up a good chunk of my grade is enough motivation to do both of those things. So Friday after the Pro-Ru finale, I went to MOMA. All I'm saying is, Whole Foods has some competition for my affections now. I wouldn't have left if I didn't have so much homework to do. From the time I got there I loved it. On the walls leading up to the bag check they had Ryan McGinness, author of Installationview and my favorite contemporary artist. DMY indeed. I will say though that I started on the wrong floor. If you ever go, start from the top and work your way down. The 5th floor has all the Picasso, Matisse, Van Gogh, Lichtenstein,-my favorites. I took tons of pictures there. I think I'm gonna have to be a real person and make a Flickr now. Ok, I have tons of stuff to do unfort. Holla!

P.S.- If you ever come to NYC, I implore you to visit Mood, the fabric store from Pro-Ru. It's an awesome store to hang out in, even if you don't want fabric (it's no Whole Foods). I got these pimp gold buttons to spruce up my coat. And they have an adorable puppy named Swatch who is a real sweetie.
P.P.S.- I'm making 2 V-Day mixes as soon as I have time, hopefully before Thursday. Hello/Goodbye style. The Hello mix will be about bubbling young love and all that sappy shit. And the Goodbye side will have all the it's over/unrequited/ "I live in a city with a 13 to 1 female to male ratio and I don't have a chance in hell of finding a boyfriend in 4 days" songs. Yes, it's kicking in...