The Future is Uncertain.

Oh hey! I haven't seen you in a while. I'm much more focused on my food blog (excluding these past few weeks...winter break is not the time for productivity), but this is the place for all non-food things.

The future is freaking me out to no end. My ultimate goal is moving to New York, but that's 100% contingent on whether or not I'm able to get a job. I'm not even sure what kind of job I want! The ideal situation for me would be a ridiculously affordable apartment downtown, a job with work that would not leave the office and acting classes at some fabulous studio at night. I don't think I'm crazy for thinking this is a possibility. If I'm able to secure a job that pays somewhere in the $30,000/year vicinity, that gives me $2500/month. If the apartment is somewhere between $700 and $1000/month, that gives me lots of extra money for utilities and other necessities. I have no doubt in my mind that I will have a very tight money situation regardless of the great deals I find, but the idea of actually living in the city of my dreams keeps me going. Because it's becoming a buyers' market (due that whole recession thing), I am fairly confident that I'll find an apartment. The main issue is finding an actually job. That's what really frightens me. I'm constantly scouring Craig's List for job and apartment listings and have found things that would definitely work for me, but none of this is applicable until graduation. That is bad news bears. I guess I just gotta have faith.

I love you, New York.

My Grandmere And Poppy.

My father's parents are two of the most amazing people I have ever had the privilege of encountering.

My Grandmere is a very petite French woman who refuses to be in public without her very very high heels. She is normally seen with a Sonia Rykiel top and black pants, and of course her very very high, very very French heels. Until very recently, she was always fully made up with emerald green eyeshadow, lipstick and blush (in her words, rouge). Her hair, before she stopped paying as much attention to it, was always a ridiculous shade of dark burgundy. As I've made pretty clear so far, she is very French. Interestingly enough, however, she was born and raised in Marrakech, Morocco. But she'd never let you know it. As far as anyone outside of the family knows, she's from Lyon. It sounds pretty weird, but it's one of the reasons I love my Grandmere. She turns her nose up at anything that is too American or Eastern European (including my Poppy's family's religious customs). She is also extremely loving, and will constantly tell me in Arabic that she would die for me.

My Poppy is very American, comparatively. He hails from Braddock, Pennsylvania, and refers to DC as "Warshington." In his working days, he was a professor of Anthropology at various universities on the East Coast. He has an almost full head of white hair, which is finally thinning after 89 years of life. He is incredibly smart and well-spoken. Sometimes he says things that probably shouldn't be said, but this is mostly due to the whole losing-one's-inhibitions-as-one-ages thing. He is pretty pessimistic by nature, but is in constant praise of me and his other granddaughters.

My Grandmere and Poppy met while Poppy was serving in World War II. Grandmere was a nurse. Poppy walked into her dressing room while she was getting ready for the Red Cross dance they were both attending. Poppy took her back to America, and they got married. Strangely enough, Grandmere didn't know Poppy's real name was Milton until very close to, if not on, their wedding day. Poppy always went by Jack, which was a shortening of his last name, Jacobs. Sixty-odd years later, they're still crazy in love.

My Grandmere and Poppy bicker all the time, especially since he's been in rehabilitation after one too many falls. She doesn't understand how hard it is for him to try to get better. She thinks she can take care of him herself, but it's an impossible task for one person. Even through all the conflict, my Grandmere and Poppy love each other very, very much.

And we love them, too.

Money Makes The World Go Around.

Long time no blog. I've been pretty busy since the end of school. First came exams, which weren't too bad. I had around two weeks of absolutely no obligation, then began WORK. I have come to enjoy coming to work (excluding waking up at 7:30 am, mind you). I like helping union members who call in with problems - makes me feel important. :-)

In the beginning of August, I am flying into Italy for a three week language course. I have this expectation that me and Italy will click. I got this from reading Eat, Pray, Love, of course.

Gotta get back to work!

Look At Me, I'm Sandra Dee.

Yesterday and today have been good in terms of honing my domesticity. Last night I baked a cake (not from scratch, but isn't that still being domestic?), and today I bought groceries and most miraculously, cleaned my room! My floor is spotless, minus the odd bobby pin or penny. Despite the random bobby pins and pennies, my room is ridiculously better off than it was this morning.

Before my roommate and I went to the grocery store, I began to move things around in my room. This was brought on by my father's delivery of a Pilates chair that I didn't know I was receiving. 'Twas a fabulous surprise. Anyhoo, I tried moving things around to make room for the chair. At the peak of my unsuccessful reorganization, there were three items of furniture along the second longest wall in my room, making my tiny room look even smaller. This, clearly, was not going to do. The roommate told me to relax and deal with it when we returned. I took her advice, and came back with A VENGEANCE (yes, that's not a proper usage, and yes, I had to look up the correct spelling), resulting in a slightly reorganized, much cleaner room.

All in all, today was a good day. I even left out some goodies! Here is an official recap - I was surprised with a Pilates chair, ate Chipotle, got the new Kelly Clarkson CD for free from some radio station that had a spinny wheel in front of Boston Market (they made me win on purpose!), got groceries, cleaned my room, and typed this blog. Actually, I also started writing another stupidlamedorky chick-lit novel. I know, I'm a tool.

Domesticity - I will make you proud!

Let's Get Physical.

Today marks the one month anniversary of my surgery. Which means I can go back to my usual exercise routine! Not to say I am someone who works out all that frequently, but when you are not allowed to do something, it seems all the more desirable. The same goes for certain kinds of foods during Passover, which also happens to end today. Tonight, rather. Pizza is not something I eat every week, but when you are not allowed to eat pizza for a week, it can be tough. We all desire what we can't have. I know that all too well. Le sigh.

ANYWAY, as the date clearly underlines, we are nearing the end of the school year. My last exam is May 18th, which means I have a little over a month left before summer. This is fabulous news. When ever the school year comes to a close, the end can't come soon enough. In the middle of the year, I'm perfectly fine with waiting. When the end is in sight, however, waiting is excruciating. Last year, when I went home during exam week, it was cold. That's depressing. At least stupid April rain seems to be taking a break. Today is sunny and warm, with a cool breeze. Faboo.

I should really pay attention to Anthropology instead of blogging. Alas, this will never happen. :-)

If I Knew You Were Coming, I'd Have Baked A Cake.

There's a part of me that is quite domestic. I have not honed this aspect of myself, but I know it's there. I find myself drifting towards cookbooks at Barnes and Noble. I look for foodie blogs. I constantly wish I had more ingredients so I could create something some what interesting. I am quite possibly a culinary genius underneath all my only-makes-bologna-and-cheese-sandwiches exterior.

I would really like to delve into cooking. I have a most likely outdated feeling that I will never get married if I can't cook. The same thing goes for football, but I don't think I'll ever understand any sort of sport. Maybe pretending is all that is necessary?

What is hard is finding out where to start developing my cooking prowess. Should I buy a bunch of ingredients and teach myself how to cook the basics? Or should I find a specific recipe and work from there?

Over Winter Break, some friends and I prepared a dinner complete with my Mommy's famous macaroni casserole, salad, and Martinelli's. It was a wonderful feeling. I felt so grown up! I like feeling grown up. This is why I drink coffee and walk briskly like I have somewhere important to be. Which I usually don't.

Before I Run Far Away, I Need To Take a Holiday.

Life is oh so stressful. Too many synapses firing at once. Too many thoughts.

I am reading a book that is soon to be one of my favorite books of all time. It is called "Eat, Pray, Love." It chronicles this woman's journey to discover pleasure, spirituality, and a way to balance the two. She travels to Italy for pleasure, India for spirituality, and Indonesia to find the balance. I am this close to moving to India and living on an Ashram for a week. Just for funzies.

On a more realistic note, I am looking into where I'm going for my semester abroad. Italy is currently at the top of my list. I cannot wait for that pizza the author oh so lovingly describes that can only be found in Naples. Mmmm. Pizza.

My brain hurts.

Chag Sameyah!!

The Wonder Years

Hmm...I see that no one reads this. That's a pity. Even I've lost interest. I've been too busy utilizing the fruits of my growing a year older (presents, duh). I have quite a nice haul, indeed. Designer tid-bits and DVDs galore. Scrubs is my new fave. Alas, my dinner with my mother and sister didn't go as planned this past Friday night. My sister and her friend had an elaborate plan including bar hopping and culminating with Sonar. Unfortunately, yours truly forgot her ID yet again. I think I have a problem. Dinner was fun of course, because I love my mommy and sister, but it shortly went downhill. I went to my sister's apartment for a night of drinking orange juice in completely legal establishments and promptly passed out. While I was in another world, my sister and her friends went clubbing. Hm. Now, clubbing isn't my thing, exactly. I'm not one to touch the ground and stick my butt in the air as an attempt at dancing (Christ no, I'm not nearly good enough to do that). I just think that maybe creepy older men would've been a better alternative than being passed out on my sister and her boyfriend's bed (SINNERS). Well, the big day isn't until tomorrow. There's lots of time to celebrate. As I see it, this birthday is an end to my childhood years. Eighteen is, in fact, legal, but nineteen seems oh so much older. Just ask Humbert Humbert! Nineteen year olds are no longer jail bait - they are real live adults. Poor Humbert. I am too old. As I say au revoir to my golden years, I welcome adulthood with open arms. Maybe a Chanel purse isn't too far off in the future. Oh yeah, and a husband. Woot! Peace and harmony, loves.

I Am So Hip It Hurts.

I have just finished perusing my favorite purse lover website, The Purse Forum. It is muy fabuloso. I can drool over other people's Chanel bags that I can never afford even in my wildest dreams. Well, maybe in my wildest dreams. Anything can happen when you're tripped up on Tylenol PM. Mmmmm. Anyway, the beginning of the year hasn't been too eventful for me. For Britney Spears, unfortunately, she's just going downhill. I'll miss her. Don't pass out in clubs for God's sake, Britney! It's just not proper. But I still love her. My obsession with celebrities has gotten my mother angry. While doing my usual reading of Pinkisthenewblog.com, I came across "Cobrasnake," which I had already seen the name of on pictures of Mickey Avalon, my favorite glam rapper. Well, maybe the only glam rapper. He is way fabulous. Anyway, it turns out Cobrasnake is like this pseudonym for this photographer who some how manages to get really detrimental pictures of celebrities and their bitches. I was looking through his pictures, and ended up looking him up on Wikipedia. It said something about his intern, Cory Kennedy, who is a very young fashionista he happens to be dating. I googled her of course, and came across her blog. After cyberstalking her for a while, I have accurately absorbed her sense of fashion. What I didn't know about California was that the real party hoppers, the real fashionistas, the real "it girls," were simple unknown (to most) teenage girls. And they don't wear the Primp sweatsuits purchased at Kitson like Paris Hilton. Oh, no. They are scenesters. REAL scenesters. I was reading Cory Kennedy's blog and noticed her namedropping a dozen times at least. Oh yeah, I invited L.L. to the club and then we hung out (Lindsay Lohan). M. Barton was there. P. Hilton and Nicky blah blah blah. So there's this whole portion of L.A. that isn't clad in Lisa Kline, but rather in a mix of thrift store and couture. It's pretty interesting, when you think about it. These are the real people of the L.A. party scene. Professional partiers. Even Mischa Barton's barely legal little sister! Sheesh. All these realizations have gotten me knackered.

2007.

California. One of the downsides of being across the country is that it's still 2006. Or is that an upside? Whatever. It's strange to think that about a year ago I was thinking about moving here. That would've made things different, eh? I wore a skirt tonight and it's the end of the year. That is craziness. Anyway, on to what is so important about tonight. In a little over an hour, 2006 will be over on the west coast. I've never really given much thought to the year's end, but this time I'm glad it's over. There were a lot of great things in 2006, such as turning 18, graduating from high school, New York, etc. But I do not miss a lot of things. Boo hoo. I wonder what will happen in 2007? Maybe at this time next year I will be rich and famous. Awesome. In the spirit of previous posts, I will now list my New Year's resolutions:

1. Get a Chanel purse
2. Make money to visit Clowdia in Scottyland
3. Become hot (plastic surgery?)
4. Fix my flat feet
5. Be myself
6. Be in at least one show before year's end
7. Be nicer (yes, I know, I'm already wonderful)
8. See Mickey Avalon live
9. Make out with Jason Mraz
10. Make the Acting Track

Maybe I'll write something next year.

All I Want For Christmas Is You

Oh, the Christmas season is here. I love Christmas. Hanukkah, too, but that's over tonight. Besides the obvious thrill of receiving presents, something about the cheery music, bright lights, and charities makes me happy. It's just extremely depressing after Christmas actually happens. There's this huge build up and then nothing. It's quite sad. I find it funny that Christmas is such a religious holiday, but it's so commercialized now. Not that I have a problem with its commercialism...it allows for secular celebration. This is good. I just love getting people presents, too. Too bad I don't have any money and have really sucked at that this year. Pahaha. Sucks for you. Even though it's not exactly Christmas weather, I love sitting inside by the fire with a cup of hot cocoa. I guess that won't really be the case when I go to California on Christmas day. It will be approaching the seventies the whole time I'm there. That's barely hoodie weather. In December, no less. Jesus Cristo. Maybe I'll see Kristin Cavallari. That would make me happy. I'm trying to persuade my mother to let me take a quick trip to Las Vegas to go to the party Britney Spears is hosting. That would be vair amusant. Maybe she won't show the audience her no-no spot. I'd like that.

Things You Can Buy Me:

1. Chanel purse (I'd prefer the violet Lady Braid Flap)
2. OC Season 3
3. Any season of Scrubs
4. Black North Face
5. Ugg Moccasins (Let's pretend Uggs aren't hideously awful)
6. A trip to Europe to visit my Camp Letts loves
7. A quick trip to New York to see Company
8. Devil Wears Prada DVD
9. Lots of posters for my dorm
10. A hair cut in LA

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. Or early evening. Whatever.

Hello.

Hello, world. Because of my recent obsessions with specific blogs, etc, I have decided to start my own. Xanga is oh so passe, and my thoughts are too weird to keep bottled up. Thus, I am here. I am approaching the end of my first semester of college, and I am an acting major. Pretty sweet, eh? Yeah, so I'm THAT kind of person. Should make for an interesting blog. As I'm writing this, I am glancing at my framed picture of Jason Mraz (which I did not purchase, but rather received as a gift). As the frame says, he is certainly "My Dream Guy". Sigh. Isn't the internet amazing? Instead of actually sighing, I can write that I am sighing and save myself the effort. Awesome. I'd like to now write a list.

Things That Are Currently Grinding My Gears (In No Particular Order)
1. Britney Spears' recent downfall, following her divorce from K-Fed
2. My earrings did not get sent with my purse I ordered from Urban Outfitters
3. The amount of money I spent in one night
4. My lack of realistic career options for after college
5. The state of my dorm room
6. The fact that I can't afford a Chanel purse
7. My Macbook's negativity towards life (it keeps turning off randomly)
8. The lack of cute boys at this glorious university
9. My painful throat
10. The idea of my last final being on the last day of finals

That is all. Stay beautiful.