Growing up, I was friends with two really interesting twins. While I was rocking a mushroom cut and Club Monaco sweatshirt, these two girls were shaving their heads and wearing lots of mesh, camo and elaborate necklaces with snake charms. While my mom gave me tylenol for a headache, their mom practiced Reiki and ancient herbal medicines to curb body pains. My home was a standard homage Pottery Barn, their house was a collection of Star Wars collectibles, exotic pets and crystals the size of pre-schoolers. Sleepovers were an exercise in restraint as I practiced acting nonchalant as they fed …READ MORE
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1. I don’t need to spend a Saturday night hanging out with people who saw me during my “Mondetta Sweatshirt = Formal Wear” phase. 2. I still haven’t gotten over the fact that in the sixth grade my arch enemy told people I bought boys deodorant. 3. Umm… reunions are for catching up with people and finding out what they are doing with their lives. That’s what Facebook is for now. And I don’t have to make small talk while stalking. Win! 4. I saw my tenth grade crush the other day and he’s losing all his hair. Oh! And …READ MORE Obama equals change. 40 is the new 30. Iphones make you cool, not recycling equals polar bear murder, drinking beer will always mean you get the hot blonde in minimal clothing. We are bombarded with the idea that so much of what we see and taste and believe in, is equal to something else. Will result in something else. That our world consists of people, events, products that can be easily interchanged with other people, events and products. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and realized that though this can often be true, it is just as often …READ MORE He would have been six, maybe seven. He was wearing baseball print pajamas, holding a piece of orange in his hand. The Cosby Show was on. My mom and I watched in confusion, as my brother stood directly in front of the television, orange juices dripping down his hand and listened. There was nothing on the screen to warrant the laughter, yet my brother began to giggle. Then, his giggle worked into a short burst of laughter- then silence. He looked surprised. Then, without warning he burst into the largest fit of laughter humanely possible. He laughed until his face …READ MORE When I was in the seventh grade, my friends mom chased me around the house with an electric shock brush. My friend (let’s call her Victoria), came from a very new- age family. Their house was home to crystals that stood taller than me, dream catchers, a hypnosis room, prayer beads, meditation mats and enough books on new age healing and psychology that I could have paper mached the Empire State building with them. In short, it was 100% different from my home in every way. And some days I loved it (when Victoria’s mom introduced me to reiki), and …READ MORE I don’t wear a watch. I stopped wearing one in grade 6 when my mom shelled out serious (well, it was serious at the time) money for a Guess? watch that I had dramatically declared I could not live without. I distinctly remember telling my mom that. I would STOP BREATHING if I didn’t get the white, thin strapped watch with the glow in the dark hands. So my mom, wanting to ensure my survival on the planet (and enable my unhealthy dramatic nature) bought me the watch. I had it exactly one week before I decided that there was …READ MORE Don’t date boys named Teddy. Always buy the shoes. Be the first person to say sorry. Righty tighty, lefty loosey. Whitehorse is the capital of Yukon (a white horse= unicorn, sounds like Yukon). Frying an onion is the quickest way to make your kitchen smell like dinner.Keep your hand flat when you feed a horse. Bigger sunglasses are always better. Teddy Cannon will always be trouble. Moisturize. Count to ten before you say something you regret- and if you are still mad, count higher. Wear red. Give more than you want and you will get more than you need. When …READ MORE To better understand my current aversion to lace, let’s take a walk down humiliation avenue memory lane. This is an example of a typical outfit I would change into in order to play with the dog. I was in grade 1 when this was taken, but I should have been bumped up a few classes. Because anyone who can pull off a trifecta of lace (tights, dress and the oh so nonchalant ribbon in the hair) with the demure sophistication shown in this photo, clearly deserves a doctorate in FASHION AWESOMENESS. |
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