West Side Ballin'

If you remember (which you probably don't), I mentioned that some friends of mine were planning to move to Pasadena. Well, sadly, they made the move July 4th weekend, but yours truly is currently conspiring with them about an October trip out West. Both Meagan's and my birthdays are in October, so I thought, why not fly out and celebrate together? There's no better way to celebrate the year of one's birth than with a trip cross-country, am I right or am I right?

Naturally, this trip will be epic. I mean, the three of us are ballers. We always managed to party it up right in Tallahassee, so I know that whatever we end up doing out West will be legen...wait for it...DARY. Since every legendary experience needs a soundtrack, I have taken it upon myself to create one for our upcoming shenanigans this fall. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my West Side Ballin' playlist:

I know very few of these songs are about California, and most of them don't even mention the state or L.A., but that's just how we do. We're too cool for school and themed soundtracks.

October 2010: there will be a gangsta party all up in the...whatever area code Pasadena is. Buckle up and get ready for the ride of your life, peeps!

Another Great Sale Find!

I guess a good thing about the economy being in the toilet are all the sales that are going on. Retailers want your hard-earned money, and they're willing to drop prices to get it. Earlier this evening, my friend Kathy and I made a beeline for BCBG Max Azria at Westshore Plaza Mall when we saw signs boasting a half-off sale. To be honest, I still wasn't expecting to be able to afford anything, even if it was half-off, so imagine my delight when I saw that this baby wasn't only on sale, it was apparently on clearance since the price I paid was more than 50% off the original price:

How fierce is this ring? Next to shoes, cocktail rings are my second-favorite accessory, and when I found that this sassy little snake fit my finger perfectly AND was on sale at an affordable price, I knew it was meant to be. I think I'll take him out tomorrow when Ali and I meet for lunch and go to the bookstore. I should be able to pull it off if I keep the rest of my outfit neutral.

What are some of your favorite sale finds?

Why I Hate Annie

I'm talking about both the musical and the comic strip, of course, not an actual person named Annie. I'm not a mean girl like that, even though I do have my bitchy moments (don't we all?). So far, my sister and my friends Ali and Arleen have had to sit through my anti-Annie tirade, and I thought, why stop with just them? Why not bring the three other people who read this blog into my ranting and raving? So without further ado, I present: Why I Hate Annie

I was first introduced to the ear-raping that is Annie the Musical (the original movie version with Carol Burnett) when I was a kid, playing at a friend of a friend's house. I don't remember much about that day except the house we were all at had wood floors, I think we were swimming in a pool at one point, and my extreme dislike of the movie. Later in life, when I was a senior in high school, I had to sit through a live performance, which didn't change my attitude in any way, shape or form. Folks, I loathe this musical. This musical makes me want to stick burning hot needles in my eyes and then rinse them out with vinegar and/or lemon juice. Why do I hate it so? There are a few reasons.

1. Everybody yells. The kids yell. The grown-ups yell. The musical numbers are yelling SET TO MUSIC. I think even the dog barks at one point! Tell me, how is being yelled at for two hours enjoyable? I find it all so obnoxious that I am unsympathetic to the plight of the orphan kids, unmoved at the relationship Annie develops with Daddy Warbucks and apathetic when the evil orphanage lady and her partner in crime get their just desserts at the end. I don't even remember what their just desserts were exactly, I just remember praising the Lord when the musical finally ended and stopped its assault on my eardrums. Don't believe me? Watch this scene from the movie and you tell me that you don't want to punch every single kid by the time it's finished.

2. The music sucks. I'm sorry, but it does. "The sun'll come out/Tomorrow/Bet your bottom dollar/That tomorrow/There'll be sun." I mean, seriously, what the fuck?

3. Daddy Warbucks freaks me out. The fact that he's bald and she calls him "Daddy" is what gives me the willies. Bald men in general don't freak me out, but for some reason Daddy Warbucks' lack of hair is creepy as hell. And the whole "Daddy" thing. Look, I know he and Annie end up developing a father-daughter relationship and he ends up adopting her at the end, but Daddy? It would be different if he adopted her as a baby and she grew up calling him that, but girlfriend is, like, ten years old or something when he decides to adopt her, and the fact that she calls him "Daddy" is a little child pedophile-y.

4. How does Annie have a pet dog? Seriously! If the orphanage she is at is run by an evil woman who rules with an iron fist, how can Annie have a pet dog? Does the dog hide behind a dumpster or something outside and she sneaks him scraps of food throughout the day? Doesn't make sense.

5. Annie's hair is creepy. For real. The girl is a white ginger, yet she is sporting an afro that looks similar in texture to African-American hair. That just ain't natural.

My hatred of Annie doesn't end with the musical. Oh no, I've got beef with the comic strip as well, but it's really with only one factor: Annie's eyes. It wasn't enough for the creator to create a white ginger girl with a creepy afro; apparently it was also necessary she not have pupils. I would have LOVED to have been in the creator's head when he was drawing her. Did he stop, sit back, survey his work, and think, "Red hair. Afro. Whites for eyes. PERFECT! My work here is done"? I mean, really? She didn't strike him as looking disturbing and unnatural?

Now, it's not fair of me to pick through all of Annie's flaws without at least admitting one good thing that came from the franchise: Jay-Z's Hard Knock Life. While the musical's version makes me want to put a gun in my mouth, if it never existed, then Jay-Z couldn't have used the chorus and beat to make his kick-ass song. But that is the ONLY good thing to come from Annie and her annoying friends. Rest assured, if you ever try to make me sit through that musical or its soundtrack, I will not hesitate to give you a hard knock life. And by that I mean I will punch you in the face.

Awesome Fashion Find!

After happy hour earlier today, some friends of mine and I decided to hit up International Plaza and do a little window shopping. We're all on a budget so none of us were looking to purchase anything in particular, but I ended up buying these sweet Hot Gossip shoes for five dollars:

Let me reiterate: FIVE. DOLLARS. Cinco dolares. Where did I get such an awesome deal? The Row. The boutique is going out of business, which is sad for them, but if you're a broke ass biatch like me, it's awesome. All clothing was 70% off, and red-line items were five bucks. It was serendipitous we wandered in, because now I can wear these shoes all up in da club on Thursday.

Not sure when The Row's doors will close for good, so if you live in the bay area and are looking for some goodies that won't break the bank, hit up the boutique at International Plaza ASAP!

Why I Love This Video

Ever since John Mayer's "Half of My Heart" video debuted, I've watched it more times than I care to admit. Why do I like it so much? It's just a simple music video--no fancy effects, no over-the-top costumes, and it doesn't even feature the song's guest musician, Taylor Swift. At first, even I couldn't put my finger on what drew me to the video, but when I started to think about it (in the shower no less--the deep thinking always occurs there, am I right?) I was finally able to come up with two reasons:

1. It's a narrative. It's not an overly complicated one, but it does tell a story: a groom leaves his bride at the altar because he can only love her with half of his heart. I like that. It's a refreshing change of pace from the countless videos out there that only feature one of three elements:

a) the musician staring pensively out into space or into the camera

b) booty-poppin' hos

c) whatever the hell this is

Videos that tell a story are infinitely more interesting and engaging than videos that do not.

2. It doesn't have a happy ending. I'm a happy person, generally. I try to look on the bright side of things, see the positive in everything, blah blah blah. But you know what? Sometimes life just sucks. People get left at the altar. People get divorced. People get laid off. People get diagnosed with life-threatening illnesses. Sometimes life just kicks you in the balls, and you may not feel like looking on the bright side. I think that's okay. This is based on nothing but my own observation, but I get the feeling that our society is kind of overdoing it on the whole, "Don't worry, be happy" message it sends out. We're marketed books like Don't Sweat the Small Stuff. Movies sneak in dialog about being happy ("Why can't you just decide to be happy and be happy?" Lloyd Dobler asks his sister in Say Anything). We're so consumed with being happy and content with our lives that we gloss over all the uncomfortable feelings, like discontent, unhappiness, bitterness, and anger, and when we do experience those emotions, we think something is wrong with us (Why can't I be happy? What's wrong with me?).

Look, do I think we should all go around being Debbie Downers all the time? Of course not. But I also think it's unrealistic to strive for Debbie's polar opposite, Suzie Sunshine Out My Ass. Life can be downright shitty sometimes, and I think it's okay if we acknowledge when we're unhappy. Or pissed off. Or feeling sorry for ourselves. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can move on and actually be happy. That doesn't make us a society full of Debbies; it makes us human. And that's why I like this video so much: it recognizes the shittier aspect of life.

Open Letter of Friendship to John Mayer

Dear John,

I think you and I should be friends. No, I don't mean "friends" as a euphemism for "lovers" or "friends with benefits," nor do I seek out your friendship for my own personal gain. What I'm proposing is friendship in its truest form, plain and simple. Here's a rundown of the benefits you'd reap if you were my friend:

1. At the risk of sounding conceited, I'm a riot. At least I think so. I mean, I'd be friends with me. I'm also pretty mellow, so if you're having a day where you're just on edge or wound up tighter than a tick, you'd end up relaxing after hanging out with me. (Aside: some of my friends have said that when they first met me they thought I was a recreational stoner, so they might try to make snide little comments about me smokin' it up. Ignore them. They are full of crap.)

2. I say stupid shit all the time. Look, I know you were probably at a different place in your life when you wrote "My Stupid Mouth," but still. I'm no stranger to putting my foot in my mouth, so if you say something weird, there will be no judging from this girl. Also, and this has nothing to do with anything, but if you decide you wanna rock the Mark Anthony look and grow your hair out again, that's okay too. No judging, remember?

3. Location, location, location. John, I live in Tampa, Florida, which is a prime location. The beaches are like half an hour away, and bonus--the oil hasn't reached us yet! So if you've been wanting a little beach time fun lately, you can still realize that summer dream! And I also know the best place to park so we wouldn't have to pay! How great is that?! If you're still not convinced, then maybe this little tidbit will sway you: I'm only about an hour or so away from Orlando, so if you want to get your Disney on, we can easily do that! But wait, there's more! I'm only five hours from...drum roll, please...MIAMI! Can you say road trip? Think of all the LOLs we'll share, crusin' down the highway, dreaming of getting our drink on in South Beach! Except I expect you to pay your share of tolls/gas money/parking money. Don't be that guy, John. Nobody wants to be friends with that guy.

4. I won't constantly reference your songs or gush over your entire song catalog. Don't get me wrong, I love your music; it's ushered me into adulthood. However, friendship is a different dynamic than that of musician/fan, which means statements like, "OMG I loved the version of 'Your Body is a Wonderland' on Any Given Thursday!" and, "Can you sign my CDs/picture/notebook/breasts?" are out of the question. I understand this.

5. You've lived in New York. I've been there...once. But I enjoyed it.

6. You like Alicia Keys. I like Alicia Keys, too! We can listen to Alicia Keys records, chow down on some pizza and share some LOLs!

John, I strongly urge you to consider being my friend. Please, be the Big to my Rob. Be the Annie Sullivan to my Helen Keller. Be the Dave Matthews to my Band! (Well, not an actual band. It's a...you know what, I'm sure you get it.) This could be the start of something good, you and I. We'll get zany, make memories, all that good stuff. There's an air mattress in Tampa with YOUR name on it, buddy. Will you be my friend?

Perfume Whores of the World, Unite!

I'll admit it: I'm a perfume whore. I own 19 full-sized bottles of scents, plus dozens more samples. What can I say? Fragrance has been good to me. My friend Jess and I initially bonded over our shared love of the stuff. It makes me feel good. It's the perfect accessory to any outfit, and you can coordinate what scent you wear with what mood you're in. Sure, some may consider my perfume collection the gateway drug to full-on hoarding, but I prefer to see it as an enthusiastic tribute to one of man's most fabulous inventions. And with that said, I thought I'd share a few of my favorites here.

Victoria's Secret Dream Angels Divine

This was my very first perfume purchase, the fragrance that started it all. It was the Christmas after I graduated high school, and my friend Meagan got me a gift certificate to Victoria's Secret as a present. I had never purchased anything from Vicki's before, and I'm not sure why I decided on perfume. Maybe it was because I thought wearing fragrance was the height of sophistication; maybe it was because The Land of Scent was beckoning me like a good-smelling siren because it knew we were soul mates (FYI, I prefer to believe the latter), but when my nose got a whiff of this stuff, it was love at first smell. Tastes change, however, and while I now find this scent a little too sweet, I still break it out sometimes. It brings me back.

Rockin' Rio by Escada

Rockin Rio, my love, why oh why did you have to be discontinued? We were so good together! Was it something I said? Something I did? I swear, I'll take it all back, just come back to me, PLEASE! Sigh...this perfume was such a sexy summer scent: warm and musky. It's dearly missed.

Harajuku Lovers G

Although G doesn't fully fill the void left in my heart by Rockin' Rio, it does a pretty good job, and is my new favorite summer scent. Warm and coconut-y, it reminds me of every beach trip I've ever taken with friends and family: the smell of the suntan lotion, the smell of the salt in the air, the smell of newly sun-kissed skin. If I'm in a bad mood, I'm instantly perked up with just a whiff.

Rock 'n Rose Couture by Valentino

This scent pleasantly surprised me. For the longest time, I wanted so hard to like it (I mean, look at that bottle! It's a work of art! Who wouldn't want that on her dresser?), but every time I smelled it in a magazine, I recoiled in disgust. It was just...ew. Too vanilla-y and flowery. But then, on a trip to Macy's, a very wise sales associate saw me eyeing the bottle, and the following conversation went a little something like this:

Her: Isn't that a great scent?

Me: I really want to like it, but I can't. It's too strong.

Her: It's actually a light scent. Here, let me show you...

She then grabbed my arm, spritzed a little on my wrist, and told me to walk around and let it set for a few minutes. And you know what? She was absolutely right. It actually is a light scent, but still sexy enough to wear on a night out or on a date (I actually wore it on the date I described on Pretty and Poor, and later said to a friend, "The bastard didn't deserve it."). It's the perfect balance of vanilla and rose. I never saw that wise sales associate again, which leads me to believe that she was my fairy godmother, sent over by The Land of Scent to get me back on the right track.

There you have it--my favorite scents (although I adore the other 15 I own as well). What are some of your favorites?