I am unapologetically addicted to BAD television. I spent my formative years with the Real World Seasons 1-8. I will drop EVERYTHING to catch a marathon of Rock of Love. I also would put Snookie in my pocket and take her everywhere with me if I could. I spent my high school years crying for Pacey and hating Dawson for crying all the time. If it was a sappy hour-long teen melodrama, sign me up!
As you can see, my tastes were honed to love camp, over-the-top emotion, horrible language, and people behaving badly. This is probably why I am head-over-heels for Skins. I am speaking of the original UK version, not the shiny, new Americanized version airing on MTV.
I like Skins because it's really good bad television. It's raunchy and crazy and frenetic and stupid...kind of like real teenagers. These kids have some serious stuff happening in their lives and their parents (if they're even around) are just as ill-equipped to deal with life's stresses as their kids. It shows teenagers making really bad decisions. It shows how real, horrible, and wonderful emotions are when you're experiencing them for the first time. Skins affirms that no one has the answers, not even the grownups.
SO, for your weekend homework, catch up on Skins UK, Seasons 1 and 2, this weekend if you have Netflix! It's "Watch Instantly" and I bet you won't be able to pull yourself away after a couple of episodes.
I've still got two more episodes until the end of Season 2...And then it's on to a new cast, but I love these kids so much I don't know what I'll do! Well, I did make it through 8 new casts when I was addicted to the Real World, so I'm sure I'll manage;)! Have a lovely weekend! xo.
Some weeks are so insanity-filled I like to take little mental health breaks throughout the day to recharge. I like to imagine my perfect day. It changes all the time, but I think it changes to meet me where my stresses are greatest.
Some days, I'm on a chairlift, the wheels happily squeaking against the line. My legs feel comfortingly heavy against the chair because of the weight of my skis. The sun will be shining through a light cloud and when the rays hit just right they sparkle like glitter suspended in the air. The snow would muffle the occasional whoop and holler from other skiers below and it would be, just, perfect.
Other days, I'm back in Paris with Shug. We're sitting in a park enjoying a bottle of deliciously cheap wine and a picnic. We get to sit in the mid-afternoon sun and watch the tiny dogs run around with the serious purpose of playing. The dull thunder of traffic is actually cut out here and there by the water splashing in a million-year-old fountain nearby and both of the sounds together are oddly soothing. Shug will make me laugh so hard my cheeks hurt and we may even take a catnap there on the grass, warmed by our full bellies and the sun low in the sky.
And then there are days where I'm cannon-balling into our family condo's pool. It's still a liiiiiiitle to cold to be swimming, but I don't care. I be sure to stay away from the leaves floating here and there like little brown lily pads and wait for my Grandpa to skim them out and away from the clear water. I know he enjoys this morning ritual, we get to talk and I show him my impressive backflips.
See! SO nice to take a little break! What is your perfect day like today?
Had you asked me when I was 16, what feats I'd be capable of as a 30-year-old, I would have most definitely replied: "Dressed head-to-toe in designer clothing!" Bless my little 16-year-old heart!
I now know that designer brands don't always mean quality (ahem, Acne) or practicality (I still love you Alexander McQueen, may you rest in peace). But, I had found a boot while in Paris that fit the above qualifications to a "t." Isabel Marant's Dicker Boots were the epitome of everything I expected designer clothing to be: chic, endlessly wearable, and lovely. The only problem was the $800 price tag.
Now, a 16-year-old me wouldn't have batted an eyelash at that cost, even though I was always dressed in an outfit comprised of items from the local thrift store and/or pinched from my mother's closet, because, y'know, when I'd be in my 30s I'd be making millions of dollars, right? Alas, $800 dollars for ANYthing is a pretty hefty chunk of change in my neverending-studenthood-world now!
It's been months since I've returned from Paris, but I have not stopped looking for a good substitute, or dupe, if you will, for these lovely bottines. After months of scouring the interwebs, I found an amazing pair of allllllmost Isabel Marant in the form of H by Hudson! But, just like Isabel, H by Hudson doesn't ship to the U.S.
Leave it to Anthropologie to pick up the boot for their fall inventory, but true to Anthro standards, the damn boot was priced at $288! Gah! I waited and waited and waited for the boot to go on sale. And the day it did, it sold out! Now here's a little secret about getting free shipping from Anthropologie: if you go into the store with the SKU or item number of the piece you want and the store doesn't have it, they or you can call customer service and have them look at the inventory of stores all over the U.S. If they find your size and it isn't listed online, they will ship it to your house for free!
I found my H by Hudsons in Chicago...and for $138! My feet still think they're in France! And my 16-year-old-self honestly can't tell the difference between the two...hint, the Hudsons are less detailed, but hey, you get what you pay for!
I hope you have a lovely weekend and get to do something that makes you happy! xo.
This happens every February, though. I decide I should break up with Salt Lake City. The cold, ice, smog, and sunless days...I can only take so much, ya know? After the holidays and Shug'sbirthday has passed to distract me, I really get to examine Salt Lake's and my relationship.
And I get sick of it!
So, to distract myself from yet another snowstorm, I try to do things that make me happy, one of which is listening to music that warms from the inside-out, like a good cup of hot chocolate. I also need to remember, Spring and it's warmth are just around the corner!
What do you do to get through a weather or season funk?
Planning a party can be so fun, but I've usually had the pleasure of getting the details of the celebration in order with my partner in crime, Shug. Since this Gentleman's Evening was supposed to be a surprise, I couldn't enlist my spouse for his creative powers, and what's more, I had to keep all of it a secret from him. I can't tell you what was more stressful: planning a party without Shug or keeping a secret!
I don't know where your position on this planet is, but in my neck of the woods it's been frrrrrrrreezing! I hope you are all staying warm and snugs and not having to shovel too much snow!
In our crazy post-holiday, hit-the-ground-running lives, Shug and I have turned to this dish a number of times for our evening meal: savory oatmeal. Now before you conjure up images of gelatinous bricks of tepid too-sweet Quaker Instant Oatmeal, let me allay your fears! Savory oatmeal is more of a heartier cousin to risotto. (And we all know how I feel about risotto, it's adult mac and cheese!)
Savory oatmeal is also a snap to make and the variations are endless in how you choose to gussy it up! While Shug and I try to enjoy our savory oatmeal vegetarian most of the time, you can easily create a vegan oatmeal by adding vegan Parmesan cheese, miso, and herbs. You can cater to the carnivore's palate by adding bits of bacon or shredded pancetta.
I'll give you our favorite variation, we make ours with Irish Steel Cut Oats that adds a little more to the cooking time, but is a heartier and chewier version of rolled oats.