Dannijo Jewelry

I loooooooove Dannijo's jewelry and their short film debut!

Angela Chase-isms

We all love Angela Chase of My So-Called Life. She is so not a CFWG. Anyway, I stumbled upon Thought Catalog's Angela Chase-ism for the week (written by Collier Meyerson, also author of Carefree White Girl), and it happens to be on interracial relationships. It's worth a read--and brings up some interesting questions and observations about race and romantic relationships.

Why the interest on my part, you ask? My husband is white, and I identify as black and multiracial, but that's another story for a different day. Read the article below!

Angela Chasisms: Existential moments when you feel like the way you’re thinking about something is exactly the way that Angela Chase would think about the same thing, so you like, think about it, like in that way, that like, she does. This week: Attraction.

ON ATTRACTION

When someone asks you what your “type” is you know exactly what they mean and you know exactly how to answer. There is this entire coding system that we’ve adopted to answer that question without sounding, like, racist. When you hear someone say with a twinge of exoticism in their tone: “I like brunettes with dark features” you know that they’re talking about a “Jewish,” Moorish or, like, Middle Eastern looking person. They don’t need to name it. Or, someone will say: “Oh Jack? He only dates dark chicks. Isn’t that so weird? Would you have guessed?” That means that Jack only dates brown or black women and because it’s something to note, Jack is probably white. And yet, more often than not you’ll hear: “I don’t have a type, I just date whoever, I really am attracted to so many different ‘types.’” And on some level those people are probably telling the truth. But that doesn’t mean that they actually date the people they purport to be attracted to.

Most times, when you actually look around, people date people that looklike them. Intellectually, we all know that white people aren’t only attracted to other white people. I mean, secretive interracial relations during slavery prove that people of different races have always been, like, carnally into one another. But when it comes to being publicly with someone outside of your race, it’s like, a thing

I guess attraction is learned, like, algebra, or, something. So, then what about people that have been in actual interracial relationships? Are they trailblazers? Did they have to, like, unlearn the behaviors so many of us can’t seem to break from? I guess, in a way, it’s sort of heartbreaking to think about all of these people that could be together that won’t, because they can’t like, step outside of themselves

I once learned of this guy, James W. Rouse who developed one of America’s first “planned communities” in Columbia, Maryland in, like, the late ‘60s or something. His hope was to gather people from different races, ethnicities and socio-economic classes and put them together in one place so that the civil rights legislation of the 1960s could have proof that a pro-active, self-sustaining integrated society could, like, actually exist. It was pretty forward thinking I guess. I wonder how much it worked. A part of me wishes we were all forced to live in planned communities. I envision every town and city having these billboards all over the place (no longer owned by Clear Channel) where instead of a white couple drinking Corona there’d be, like, an interracial couple drinking Budweiser. And the slogan would read “The American type of Beer.”

In other news...

It's husby's birthday today!

Want.

{Christian Louboutin Fred Flat}

I would wear these every single day until the day I die. Sparkles! Louboutins! Flats! Everything I love in one shoe for only $595! HA. Unfortunately, I can't roll like that and because it's not my birthday, anniversary or Christmas, I probably can't convince my husby that I need these...unless I can--John? What's that you say? No?

Because it is too damn hot.

“I enjoy being indoors. I enjoy laying on couches, snacking, and reading (watching TV). Summer sucks because it is the only season when, if I want to do this in the middle of a gorgeous day, people (my children) look at me like I’m a disgusting person. Well, guess what? It’s 90 degrees out there, it’s 68 degrees in here, and this episode of The Bachelorette isn’t going to watch itself.”

- Adam Scott, on why he hates summer

Truer words have never been spoken. HE IS SO WISE.

{quote found via All Things Alishan}

Eau Flirt? NO flirt.

Apparently men become sexually aroused when smelling pumpkin pie and lavender, which led me to devise a really awesome equation that I am sure nobody has ever come up with. Then I made a love potion that I decided to market as a perfume using said equation:

SEX= FOOD x FLOWERS

Oh wait, I'm not that crafty. T'his morning while perusing the NY Times {cover to cover...no, psike, I was online, reading only the fashion and style section while pretending to pay attention to the front page news}, I came across a perfume called Eau Flirt, a scent that supposedly attracts men...and their penises. No, seriously. The perfume uses "ingredients like pumpkin, lavender and licorice shown to increase penile blood flow".

Cool, except I know that smelling something that reminds me of pie only makes me hungry. But then again, I'm not a guy.

I am more concerned that the general public truly believes that there is a perfume out there that has been created specifically to attract men because of pheromones and things like baked goods. WE ARE BEING DOUSED IN B.S., ladies! I understand that smells can trigger certain responses, but I'm pretty sure that NOTHING you spray on yourself will make someone fall in love with you. This person will may comment on how you smell nice, or nuzzle your neck with a little more vigor, but regular perfume would seem to do the trick, right? Or you know, soap.

I think I'm insulted...but maybe I should be proud of the fact that I attracted my husband with just my natural body odor?

Check out the article here.

How to settle disputes like a grown-up.

Have a nice game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Best out of 7 wins.

Having a win after 1 round? Lame. A win out of 7? AWESOME.

Plus, you sharpen your RPS skillz something fierce.

Happy 4th!

Why don't you celebrate by wearing this:

While having one of these:

As you watch some of these!

{Just make sure you don't come out looking like THIS}:

HAPPY 4th!!!

On being a grown-up.

Dialogue from a few nights ago:

Danielle: Ew. Come look at this! It's so gross. I think it even smells. Sick.

John: How long has this been in there?

D: I dunno...like, a few months? Maybe...six months?

J: I'm not picking that up. This is your problem.

D: Ew. EW. It's like a science experiment. I can't clean it, I'm scared.

J: I think that it's beyond cleaning.

D: Will you please throw it out? I cleaned your bathroom the other day and you owe me.

J: This is not how this stuff works, this marriage is a partnership.

D: Right...so you'll throw it out?

J: How is this my responsibility?

D: Because I cleaned your bathroom and that was your responsibility which you shirked, so you have to make it up to me. Plus, I'm only afraid of two things: smelly mold and spiders, and I have only asked you to kill a spider like, once.

J {holds up "science experiment" and proceeds to dry-heave}: I've never seen anything like this before.

D: You need to double-bag that shit. No, triple-bag it and then put it in a garbage bag. Maybe you should spray some Febreze. Oh, God, I can't even...

J: Okay...Here's the plan. We'll save the lid, but toss everything else. I'm going to need you to hold the bag open so that I can dump it in quickly. Hold your breath, okay?

D: No! Wait! I can't, I can't! {shrieks loudly...glass shatters.}

{J, looking green, dumps the offending mass into the garbage bag, takes the bag and sprints to the trash room. The chute opens and closes, and I hear J take a deep breath and gag. He comes back in.}

J: I don't want to talk to you right now.

D: Do you want some baked ziti?

On awkward exchanges.

I am the Queen of Awkward.
...

....

.....

See? That was just awkward.

I'm just one of those people. I'm all like, "hi..." to someone and then cross the street in the middle of the conversation to get away from said person. RUDE. STRANGE.

I try, I do, but sometimes an exhange comes along that has just SO MUCH POTENTIAL to be awkward. And my social ineptitude does nothing except to exacerbate the situation.

Like the time I was mistaken for a white woman...

Yes.

It happened. Last Friday.

In a passport office no less, when I was being fingerprinted (no felons allowed in the USA).

BY ANOTHER PERSON OF COLOR.

What did I do?

Blinked a few times. Stared. Then I am pretty sure I made some awkward/sarcastic joke about my newfound racial/ethnic background which definitely did not seem to have the desired effect on my intended audience. So then I stood there as he took my fingerprints, feeling like a weird impostor criminal AND THEN I RAN. All the way until I reached the exit. And then I realized that I had left all of my stuff waiting on the chair and had to turn around.

I'm surprised I wasn't escorted out in handcuffs. Or you know, sent back to Canada. See? AWKWARD.

Turband

{Classy bathroom shot from fone}

Good morning, I am wearing a turband. To work. Yes.

Directions:

(1) Take scarf and fold them together so it looks like a triangle.

(2) Continue folding until it looks like a men's tie.

(3) Tie a knot at the front of your head. Feel free to tie another one.

(4) Take ends of the scarf, bring them to the back of your head.

(5) Tie, and all done!

Or...you can just look and see how The Man Repeller does it. Ready, steady, repel!

In the practice of law...

...I have learned that it is unacceptable to wear any other colors besides gray, white, black, and beige. Screw Sue me.

Danielle Fail Whale- 0

Legal Profession- 1

Crisp-y cravings.

{sometimes walker's even has classy giveaways, like hiding a a 20 pound note inside the bag!}

My post titles are getting funnier and funnier as I go along (really, I am so clever). So as many of you know--okay, all of you because who am I kidding, I tell everyone I come across--I lived in England for a glorious 2 years of my life, spanning the amazingly awkward ages of 9-11 (my awkward stage began and lasted waaaaay after it should have, but that's a story for another time. My awkward photos are ones for the ages, I tell you).

Why is this relevant today of all days, you ask?

Because who doesn't dream every day for a bag of Walkers Prawn Cocktail Crisps? A true prawn and cocktail flavor in EVERY SINGLE BITE. I mean, I cannot even begin to explain how delicious it is, but the name helps. I mean, "Shrimp Chips" doesn't quite have the same ring to it. Plus, since I am allergic to real prawns (and real lobsters, and real crabs, and real scallops), eating prawn cocktail flavor chips is a great alternative to death.

Lots of people hate British food, but considering that my West-Indian, British-bred parents force fed me baked beans and black pudding since birth, it's only natural that I come out loving perhaps the most disgusting flavor of Walkers crisps created to this date. At least, that's what my brothers said, but they only loved the cheese and onion flavor-- not even the pickled onion Monster Munch-- just plain c&o. Boring.

Hey! I like scones as much as the next person, but I also like curry and bangers...together! And chips for tea time! Who's with me?

Too bad a 48-pack of these babies is $42, plus like $20 shipping. It's probably because they are all healthy and organic and shit. I guess that's the price you pay for wanting 70% less saturated fat.

Guess what?

I am being all sorts of grown up and attempting to buy a house with husby. Naturally, I thought that everything would fall into place, and I would have a house like this in no time:

Naturally, we bought it, and we can't wait to move in and have a million babies! Psike. Fooled you, didn't I? Oh yes, and by buying a house, I mean apartment. A tiny, tiny apartment.

Seriously though, buying an apartment is incredibly daunting and a massive, massive learning experience. One of the hardest things that I have had to deal with is what I can actually live with and what will actually drive me crazy, like my willingness to entertain the fact that I'm handy enough to combat anything: Oh yeah, I'll totally repair that hole in the floor on my own. For now, we can just put a rug over it!

I've found that Apartment Therapy has some good tips regarding purchasing a house, but I would love to hear about any tips YOU have for first-time apartment buyers. Any advice?

Yes.

{Vogue}

Target's newest designer collaboration? MISSONI. YES.

Calvin and Hobb(i)es.

{Are you impressed?}

I am lonely. Husband took a new job which requires him to be in Virginia for the entire month of May (cue sobs in fetal position). However, I have discovered several new things to keep me happy. Like spending 3 hours playing with the Vignette phone application for my Android and pondering important meaning-of-life questions like: "Is drowning onstage still a magic trick if you weren't planning it?"

I LOVE HOBBIES.

Hay thar.

Care to read along?

Oh Land

This lady has been making the rounds (and playlists).

Braid inspiration

{photos from Jeana Sohn}

Love these braids...maybe one day I will be able to attempt some on my own head!

Waking up from a long, deep sleep.

The sun is shining, it's warm, and I finally feel like I can breathe a little bit more easily.

You see, this is because I am happy. The kind of happy that makes you uncontrollably wiggle every part of your body in delight.

Some little things that have made me a very happy girl in the past few weeks:

Babies

Quiet libraries

Looking for pretty houses

Friendship bracelets

My little family (you + me = holding your hand will forever I be)

Ranunculus in a bright, cheery red

Weddings

New shoes

Happy Monday, lovelies. Go find something that makes you happy. You deserve it.

Relief soon, I hope.

{Yeah, that's a super large Starbucks coffee, two Five-Hour Energy drinks (never again), and a big ol' can o' Red Bull. It was like, 9am when I took this picture. Ish was all gone by 11.}

I spent every. single. day. this week (and all of last weekend...and maybe tomorrow, if I'm so lucky. meh.) in a 2x4 windowless law school study room for hours at a time. I had minimal contact with everybody in my life, including my family, my husband, and my dear law school friends who had their own exams and papers to prepare for. Exams are never fun. Here's to a relaxing weekend and great 3 months of co-op quarter.

Yes, they are!

You love Erin. I love Erin. Erin loves James. I love James. And I especially love that my dear, darling friend is so unbelievably happy.
xx

Sweets

{Why yes, I DID bake these myself...}

Valentine's Day is right around the corner, and at this house, there is a particular girl who LOVES the holiday.

Yes, that would be me. However, the appeal does not lie in flowers and bold romantic gestures--it lies in THE SWEETS.

I mean, who doesn't love conversation hearts and red jelly candies? I'm the ultimate consumer (get it?). In fact, I may or may not have bought the Lofthouse cookies featured above and already eaten 3 of them (in about 6 minutes).

Is there anybody else out there who loves this holiday just for the sweets like me?

It doesn't help that Erin sent me this Flickr group to look at...

Monday as a Sunday

I have the blues.

Schedule

I woke up at 6:30 to say goodbye to John who left to go on another business trip across the country for a week (I hate your world tour. I am ready for it to end).

Then I fell back asleep until 1:30. Despite the fact that I had (have) homework to do.

I woke back up with a pulled muscle in my side. I tried to stretch it out. Failed.

After 2173891237 Advil tablets, I felt better. Slightly.

Did homework. Cried. Sighed. Ate some Cheetos. Cried some more. Felt sick from eating too many Cheetos. Then felt fat.

And now it's 6:30pm and I don't feel any better than I did at 6:30 this morning.

I hate Sundays disguised as Mondays.

Tiger Mothers

{Google Images}

I know, I know, I am a WHOLE WEEK LATE with this breaking news item, but um...wow. How do I even respond to an article like this? Maybe Amy Chua just missed the mark in terms of what she was trying to convey (and I really, sincerely hope this is true)...but I feel like I see a lot of sterotypes in this article, and I am not comfortable with it.

Also- the proposed parenting techniques (uhmmm, like calling your daughter "garbage" in front of guests) kind of make me want to die.

Side note: When Chua also says that she uses the words "Chinese mother" loosely, and that she knows some other (namely Jamaican/West Indian, ahem) mothers who qualify as well? My parents never used any of those emotionally abusive techniques. Yes, I couldn't watch TV or play video games, but I did get to choose my own adventures.

What do you think? She is also a Yale Law professor. Oh man. Law. Lawyers. My chosen profession, ah.

I like what Jezebel has to say on the topic.

Blue Valentine

I'm trying to see every single nominated movie before the award season commences, and last night I watched Blue Valentine.

This is a difficult movie to get through, but I thought both Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling turned in such raw performances. I was really impressed with them--and the vulnerability they brought to their characters. Michelle Williams actually said that she and Ryan Gosling weren't able to see each other after the movie wrapped because it felt like they were actually going through a breakup. You can tell.

There was so much drama surrounding this movie and its original rating of NC-17 because of a particularly explicit oral sex scene. However, Harvey Weinstein appealed, and the movie ended up with an R rating. Also- all the sex in the movie? Realistic, but not graphic (well, emotionally it is). Just sayin'.

Warning: I spent an hour after the film sobbing--but I guess that's what I get for watching a movie re: the disintegration of a marriage when you have only been married for 7 months and your husband is away on a business trip.

Sunday

The King's Speech

{photo: google images}

Amazing. Please go see it (especially if it's on a snowy, gray day like the one here in Boston).

Belated New Years Resolutions!

For ALL of 2010, I have been the most sporadic blogger ever. I would like to blame it on law school, and planning a wedding, then HAVING a wedding, but honestly, that would be a lie. I'm just crazy...and by crazy, I meant to say LAZY. Plus, I'm still trying to show my husband my commitment to this blog- he dared me way back in 2008 to start a blog and keep it up--or rather, he said he didn't believe I could keep a blog up, so naturally, challenge accepted.

Anyway, my New Year's Resolution is to post on this blog more than 29 times in a year. And to take more pictures. There's nothing like shameless promotion! Plus, my Mom really likes them.

I love reading other people's personal blogs--and stalking all of their lovely photos. Some examples? Aura Joon, Taza + Husband, Marvelous Kiddo, A Cup of Jo, and Honestly...WTF. All so different, but so wonderful and joyful!

Further New Year's Resolutions:

Live life freely
Do more yoga
Eat less candy

Try to cry only 5 times a week .

And, in the spirit of shameless self-promotion, I posted some wedding photos that I received last weekend (yes, instead of New Year pictures). Because honestly, this is what I want my life to be like every day.

Happy 2011!