Good. Morning. Dudes. How’s everyone doing? I’m not gonna lie to y’all: I’m a scoonch on the cranky side. I just can’t seem to accept the fact that it is not yet the weekend. That we still have 8+ more hours of working and wearing pants and generally being not on the couch. I can’t get behind that. I call a foul on the whole earth. Everyone, it’s time to go back to bed!
Ok to save me from launching into a full on melodramatic tirade about the cruelties of the modern world, why don’t we just try to put on our happy pantsand take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.
One possible factor in this morning’s mood: it is grey and rainy here in the NYC. Also, I couldn’t find a single one of the dozens of umbrellas I suh-wear we own, so I fashioned a poncho/rain bonnet out of a garbage bag.
Genius or pathetic? I’ma go with genius. Watch yo’ back, MacGyver. Two can play this game.
Wish I could say this was the first time I wrapped myself in plastic this week but wait, nope…
I got to go to a super swankadoo work event on Wednesday night (The National Book Awards! One of our authors won!) so I was looking extra good at the office all day. A blazer over a cocktail dress can instantly take it from day to night! Did you know that? I should write for Vogue!
ANYWAY. We all know how good I am at eating food and I was worried about getting my lunch all over my dry-clean-only, snazzy day/evening wear so I hooked a grocery bag to the lapels of my blazer et voila: a bib!
Pure sophistication right there.
Speaking of pure sophistication…
If you recall, one of my New Years’ Resolutions for 2013 was to figure out how to wear red lipstick and drink whiskey. Lofty goals, I know. On Friday evening I hosted some of my lady friends for an evening of trying whiskey and lipsticks. We called it Classy Broads Night. To give you an idea of just what kind of broads we’re dealing with here, one gal announced that she’d arrived via car service (classy!) … but also wasn’t wearing a bra (less so!). It was one of the best nights I’ve had in quite some time.
One friend, Kathleen, has become a fermented grain mash aficionado, so she led us in a guided taste test of four different types of whiskey, each one more disgusting than the last. She was very official about the whole thing. First she poured us each a small portion (possibly called “a finger”) and then instructed us to “spend the next five minutes smelling it.” Fun activity! While we sat and sniffed, she gave a dramatic reading from the back of the bottle, explaining the whiskey’s history, flavor palate (i.e. “mint, leather, papaya, wood and Sweden” – yum!) and other general information. All of these were hilarious. If you are a struggling creative writer looking for a place to get out all of your best metaphors, flourishing adjectives and overblown narrative, might I suggest applying to be a whiskey company copy writer? These jabronies take themselves wa-haaaay too seriously. From the website of one of them:
WE DIDN’T SET OUT TO EMBODY
THE SPIRIT OF ADVENTURE AND
SELF-RELIANCE OF THE HUDSON VALLEY,
IT JUST TURNED OUT THAT WAY.
Did you, though, really, guys? It’s whiskey. I love my booze as much as the next Irish Catholic lush but let’s all just calm it down a notch or 73.
Moving on. After we sat around and sniffed, Kathleen then allowed us to begin sipping.
“Like a shot?” someone asked (see what I mean about sophistication?)
The thing about whiskey is – it is terrible! Every sip burned. Kathleen told us it’s supposed to hurt, just power through the pain. When one pal exclaimed that her esophogus was on fire, Kathleen assured her “that’s good!”
WHAT! No. “Pain is good for you?” That’s what they tell people in like, the NFL. Or concentration camps. Why are we consuming something that smells like nail polish remover, burns our esophoguses (esophagi?) and requires time and effort to enjoy.
I’m still not on board. I tried. I really tried! I know that whiskey is sexy and rugged and sophisticated and girls who sidle up to a bar and order bourbon, neat, are totally smokin’ hot babes and I really want to be all of those things…whelp, I am not.
I’m an extra large glass of bargain brand Sauvignon Blanc. And I’m just going to have to live with that.
In the midst of our tasting, our other friend Nicole, who is a makeup artist gave each one of us a brand new, beautiful lipstick and showed us how to apply, complete with lip liner. Ooh la lah. Everyone looked stunning and amazing and then, since none of us know how to wear lipstick, we spent the next several hours alternating between staring at ourselves in the mirror (Kathleen!) to sitting very still, trying not to move our lips when speaking, for fear of smudging. We all need so much help.
My color was called Russian Red and as you can see above, it looked pretty good! I was feeling seductive and badass until…this happened:
How. HOW HOW HOW did lipstick end up on the bridge of my nose? I guess I touched my mouth and then wiped my face? I was probably biting my nails (gross, I know!) but why was I then rubbing all over my nose? There are no answers to these questions.
So there you have it. New Years Resolution 2013 … complete? I drank whiskey and wore red lipstick and pretty much failed at both of them but I’m just going to go ahead and call it a wild success.
And I guess I’ll just take this whole classy drunk theme to the end with a story for which I don’t have a picture because, as you’ll see below, I wasn’t quite in the photographing state.
As I mentioned, Wednesday night I was out at this fancy party for the National Book Awards. The party started at 10 PM (on a school night! Are you kidding me?!), so to kill time between work and the party, some friends and I got a few glasses of vino before hitting up the high endopen bar for several more hours. A whole WORLD of good decision making right there. I am not joking when I say that I am still hungover. I can’t hang like I used to, guys, I just can’t. How does anyone a) stay up past 10 PM on weeknights, just in general and b) drink heavily while doing so and then c) leave the house the next day? My entire body is in pain. All day yesterday I was just wishing the grim reaper to come upon me with his cape and his scythe and just put me out of my misery.
Anyway, I think that I had the idea to include something in my blog about wearing a blazer and then putting a coat over it and how weird that feels. Double the coats! Does anyone else ever experience this? Men? Do any men (aside from Ross, hi Ross!), even read this blog? Do you ever get used to wearing a coat over another coat? What a strange strange world we live in!
So I guess that was in the back of my mind and then I had a semi-awkward incident again involving my jacket at this NBA party – I’d left my coat & tote (rhyme!) in the coat check but of course couldn’t find my check ticket when I was getting ready to leave, so I had to walk around the cloak room with the attendant til I found my stuff. She then wouldn’t just give it to me, I could be a common thieving robber, so I had to give her more explanation.
“What is the brand of this coat?” she asked.
“It’s from H&M, I got it on sale, and it still has an old dry cleaning tag stuck to it from when I took it to the cleaners several winters ago.”
“What’s in this bag?” she asked.
“Dirty Tupperware!” I declared, triumphantly.
Nailed it again.
I should not be allowed in fancy places.
I guess I thought this was hilarious and amazing and wanted to be sure that I remembered to blog about it, so on the taxi home I sent myself a drunken email that reads as follows:
Coat clog: coat over blazer, coat check lost ticket.bag full of tullerware .
Also.dont forget apple
So there you have it. My coat clog! And what do I mean about the apple? No freaking clue.
Famous last words: I am seriously never drinking again.
And that was my week! God willing this hangover will subside any minute now. Otherwise I might just end up in the fetal position under my desk listening to the Dream Girls soundtrack and quietly weeping. I don’t know if I could blame that on booze, though, that actually sounds like a nice little Friday afternoon right there.
Hoping everyone is in a significantly better state than I am at the moment! Any good plans for the weekend (I’ll be sleeping) or stories from the week? Make me laugh, it’s Friday!
xoxoxoxo Liz Ho