Shoe Woes

Ever had a clothing item or a shoe that was too big/ too tight/ too worn out but that you liked so much you kept wearing it? I just received the shoes me and my fellow bridesmaids ordered for my cousin's wedding and I am telling you, girl, is footbinding still being practiced? Because, that is the only way I can get this shoe to work. I knowingly ordered a half size smaller because my actual size was not available and I thought, half a size shouldn't be too tight, right? WRONG.

I mean, I probably need to cut salt out of my diet 2 weeks prior. Or, cut off my toes. Or, cut a hole in the shoe for more space. Or, paint the shoe on my naked foot.

Or, what? Order another shoe? I'm no quitter. Leave me alone.

Yeah. All right maybe this just isn't the shoe for us. Aside from the fit, the height of the heel is just, wow - the suffering. Maybe the other girls feel the same... the same pain on their feet, the same numbing, vise-like grip on the tips of their toes. Please.

Also, this song is stuck in my head:

Starring: BFF

I have a stiff neck. I'd just like to start with that. Just in case I stop typing in mid-sentence you know what to blame it on.

Photo Source: Zoozoom

My best friend had her big acting break recently. And this is a big shout out to her and the art of acting! Or the love of the craft of the art for the sake of art for the craft of love for the sake of.

We Skyped like giggly high school girls shortly after her shoot. She absolutely deserves that break. She is currently preparing for a lesbian role which might explain her sudden bursts into, look at Katy Perry's cleavage or, ZOMG Emily Blunt!!! The role, however does not explain why I usually overhear her reverting into infant-talk when she bamboozles her sister to do her bidding... a gwass of water pwease. But like I said, she's been juggling her passion and her need to make a living for several years now and things are looking up.

Acting though, isn't exclusive to actors. How many times have we acted/ lied to conceal the truth. I mean I try not to, but it's hard to tell someone who's excited about their newly-purchased, orthopedic-looking flip flops that those things are hideous. Instead I might say, they look comfy. Or, if the burning ball of rage is trying to escape from the pit of your stomach, and now is not the time and place for an explosion of volcanic proportions, then you keep it in and compose your face, right? Or is that bad? Surely it is common courtesy to keep your shit to yourself until a more suitable time. Unless of course you are literally not yet toilet-trained, in which case, go for it.

By the way. A bunch of roofing guys are working on a roof several roofs away from our house. Are they nuts?! It's below freezing and there's still a sprinkling of snow/ice everywhere.

Oh no no. Wait a minute. Sorry it was just a morning production of the Fiddler on the Roof by a new acting group, Roof Cabaret of Seattle (now showing at a rooftop near you). Oh, whoa okay, they're now singing If I were a Rich Man. Hey! Hey, Tevye! Bravo!

Back to acting. So, what I

Tszuj It Up, Sweetums!

Hello, Sweetums! Yup, that's what Shawn of QVC said to one of the callers on Live with Isaac Mizrahi the other week. QVC-speak is so amusing. I love when they say stuff like, you can jshooshj up your look with a few zebra-stripe highlights on your hair or by wearing scarves made entirely out of pompoms. Or wait, is it spelled, jooj? Tszuj? Jueje? Zjoeurg? George? Jujubee?

Or how about celeb blogs? You know how a reality star's assistant would greet their employer's blog readers with a, hey dolls. Or, hi, my loves. Or, hey lovelies. What should I call the five people who happened upon my shitstain of a blog?





What? I was waiting for someone to contradict me and say, don't be silly, this is no shitstain. No one? Anyone? Fine! I shall now address you as my darling, pooper scoopers!

Moving on, I finally made a visit to my local cleaners' for a long-delayed alteration on a jacket. I am aware that having to take in the shoulders is super tricky business so I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best. The kind lady had me up on a platform as she hesistantly pinched and pinned fabric. After a while she looked at me with a smile and said, umm... big everywhere. Go back to store for smaller size?

After that, she accidentally stuck herself with a giant pin and screamed. I gasped and said, I'll kiss it to make it better after which I drank her blood but Lestat came in and stopped me.

Oh wait, that was from Interview with the Vampire. Sorry, sorry. I was confused.

One week later, I picked up my jacket and like the lady told me before I left, they tried their best (woohoo Bon Ton Cleaners). It looked great! I wore it to work the following day. When I entered my work place one of my co-workers said, you look good. But the other co-worker glared at her. And then she shrugged her shoulders and said, what? She does!

Oh, hold on. That was The Devil Wears Prada. Yup. Okay. Bye.



Photo: Dipity

What's For Lunch?

OMG. Don't judge but this is what I had for lunch. I fried up one of the hamburger patties I made and froze last week. Then, I made gravy out of a can of cream of mushroom soup except it was low sodium so I high sodium-ed it with a tiny bit of beef broth and then added some fat with a little bit of half and half. And yes, there's more. I ate it with rice. And yeah, so what if I ate it all with a SPOON? Obviously a spoon was called for because how was I going to eat all that "gravy" with any other utensil? Right?

Now I do want to be healthy which is why I did the Crunch Gym's Ass N' Abs workout a few hours later. I like those Crunch Gym peeps. Except they keep emphasizing which location they're at even if I would see some who were supposedly from the San Francisco gym at the New York gym. The Ass N' Abs trainer, Michelle Opperman, kind of looks like Dina from the Real Housewives of New Jersey. And I don't even know how I made that association because I have never seen an episode of that show, haha. Hahahaha. Ha haaaa.

The only problem was I kept thinking about whether I should toast the bread in a pan for the post-workout sandwich I was going to eat or if I should just use the toaster.

And here's another thing about following these workout videos in the privacy of your home - you can skip the parts you don't like. I will come clean and say any video that requires push-ups will most likely earn a fast forward from me. I'll do squats and crunches and the hundred and the Arnold, etc, etc. But, I mean, this is kind of weird but I always imagine that my forearms will give under the weight of my body and they'll fold over the wrong way like that bit from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets where Harry gets jelly arms. Ayyyy. Just thinking about it gives me the shivers.

I still remember how in college, we were required to take P.E. And that one day, after a horrible class that forced us to get our body fat measured with calipers, I had to come face to face with my real body type - fake skinny. Oh all right maybe just fake normal. And by fake I mean fake. I mean, even those calipers were pretty shocked at the amout of fat my body concealed.

I would really like to think that my body fat percentage has decreased.




Yup. that was the end of that sentence. See ya!

XOXO

Who Are You Wearing (Text Me)?

Yesterday afternoon, I parked my buttocks at a spot where I could use my laptop and have full view of the TV. E! was doing red carpet coverage for the 2011 SAG Awards and aside from tweets from designers' PR people, it really was the quickest way to find out who was wearing what while actually seeing the person wearing it. So there I was searching on the internet, looking for images all the while typing a short article about whose gown looked lovely and which look was gorgeous and deciding which actress gets the adjective stunning. I mean I'll only use stunning once in the article, right?

Aay. I'm never finishing this story. Okay, okay, so there I was, with no other option but to listen to Giuliana Rancid. I mean Rancic. Well! There goes New Year's resolution number five: no more making fun of people and their names.


(What? I was in a hurry. This is the best I could draw at the moment. Leave me alone.)

OMG. The Fug Girls were spot on. It was hard to watch. I was torn between hitting mute or blindfolding myself. All right, maybe it wasn't that bad and obviously I know nothing about interviewing people, just ask the museum curator I chatted with for an article years ago. Oh, what? He doesn't remember? He remembers only silence? Yeah. He doesn't remember.

The interviews were just uncomfortable to watch. Does she want to be their friend or does she want to do an interview? When she told more than one actor to text her? Squirm. Or when she started off with, I love twitter to James Franco? Ummmm... And when she lay prone at Christian Bale's feet going, Master, what dost thou desire?

Okay. That didn't happen. But this happened:

G: How did you get here so fast?
Jesse Eisenberg: On a plane.

OH SSSSNAP!

Something Evil Lurking in the Dark

It was a full moon the other night. The sight of it from my bedroom window as I came up the stairs creeped me out a little. Needless to say, scary images and scenarios started to leak into my brain and I began to scare myself. And I don't mean I looked in the mirror and screamed at a reflection of my crazy hair.

I was making myself something to eat when the phone rang and stopped. In mid-ring. And I almost didn't want to look at it because the little screen might suddenly say, Line in Use, like it does if someone happens to answer the upstairs phone. Except, no one else was home. So, I just concentrated on my food and tried to banish the thought.

I had the lights on, TV on and guess what I see on the screen? This movie on HBO with Melissa George and Oded Fehr and the creepy-face lady who played the cat mom on Sleepwalkers! That actress is scary. She also played the cobwebbed granny on Silent Hill and Morgana on The Sorcerer's Apprentice.... What? Oh. I didn't actually watch that movie, excuse you.





Anyway, it seemed like I momentarily regressed into my early years where there was so much material to scare children with, like white ladies and malignant elves and statues that come to life and look at the address on your school ID and visit you at home. And the baby-eating monster perched on a rooftop and devil dogs and top-half only winged women and the opening bars of Michael Jackson's Thriller. And the abandoned house on the street you grew up in and your classmate's mother with the Bride of Frankenstein hair and AYEEEH!! There it is again!!!

Oh wait, no. That was just my hair in the mirror.

Eyes, Ears, Voice, Loud

More encounters with graduates from the School of Speaking with an Audience. This guy with long red hair, wearing a leather jacket with patches, gets on the bus and starts chatting up this bearded guy and I promise you, I could hear them very well even through the music playing in my ears.

As an aside, I used to just read or stare out the window when on the bus. However, I have successfully shaken off my aversion to headphones or earbuds.

As an aside to that aside, my thing against head/ear contraptions came about because of my old job where I wore a headset for years, including when I took showers and went shopping. Just kidding. But yeah, I thought my right ear was starting to go a little bit deaf.

So this guy, I could hear him talking about video games blah blah blah. And the other guy says something about Magic blah blah. And then Bearded Guy lets slip that he's only 21 and never gets carded. And to this, Long Hair says, I always get carded. Maybe it's because I don't have facial hair. And to that, Bearded Guy politely replied, uh, yeah I can see why they would card you.

Yeah. Whatever. What he lacked in facial hair he made up for in missing teeth! Come on!

Not only was I annoyed then at having to hear their loud voices while on the bus, Now I am still annoyed because I still remember what they were talking about!





Oh, have you ever had that tired feeling in your eyes? You know the one where one eyelid is involuntarily twitching and you read something and it registers as a completely different word or phrase in your brain?

So, on the road the other day I see this sign at a sports store and I thought it read: Congratulations to the Tittiest... I beg your pardon. The what?!? Are they rewarding some girl because she has the most tits?!?

Turns out the sign said titleist and not tittiest. It's a little bit like when it's so cold and your fingers are freezing and you can't type a proper last paragrapf to yourrr blogj wentry wut iz happehningnggg


Photo: Listicles