cheers.

flappers drink bootleg alcohol in unison
i’ve recently discovered i can only hang out with groups of peripheral acquaintances i don’t know very well (or care about very much) for roughly 1-2 hours before i desperately want to stop small talking and run away to be by myself for a while. when i first moved to new york, i used to rock the fuck out of these kind of bright awkward social situations by finding my way to the boistrous weirdos who liked to laugh and dance till we made the walls sweat.

unfortunately,

i just don’t have the patience for that kind of crap right now. for any kind of crap, really. i mean, not to be that marble-less crayyyzay lady who reads her horoscope everyday and thinks it makes a pretty good point, but … like … all my shit’s in retrograde. basically, i’m not supposed to call, email, text, or broker any business deals until july and one or more of my electronic devices is going to have a tech tantrum and corrupt itself (hashtag … fantastic).

but,

despite impending smartphone fails and the fact that all the things i want the most feel like fuzzy faraways in someone else’s near future, i’ve been trying to convince myself that so long as i keep searching and writing and asking and fighting, there’s probably, mayyyyybe, sorta definitely a good chance everything will work out just fine. you know, like that one show i still haven’t started watching yet says:

clear eyes.
full hearts.
can’t lose.

losing my religion.

nice work
okay, i have an announcement. i’m officially over all this micro self help short listing. like, when did we all become soooo unequipped? soooo incapable? soooo unable …

to grow a pair?
to tough it out?
to do the thing?

is it because we’re in the double digit teenage years of the aughts?
because we’re no longer that asexually unaware 2012 in gapkid overalls?
because we’ve sprouted 2013 breasts and caught a nasty case of insecurity?
because i hate you! it does matter! i want to die in my room alooooooone!

okay fine.

if this is the year of our incredible internet bar mitzvah,
i’m skipping the all too lame friday night saturday morning services.
y’all sound the same and i just don’t give enough fucks.
my advice?

shut up and give me glow sticks so i can daaaaaance.

not a girl.

we shall be strong in our weakness
you may have to go through the wringer
last week, i let a beautiful woman at space.nk convince me to buy a beautiful opaque lip stain by hourglass. i got it because it comes in “raven” which is my favorite superfuckingbold shade of orange-y red (love) aaaaaaand because it dries so fast it doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing lipstick after initial application (also, love). unfortunately, these two powers combined have turned off that part of my brain that understands if i put this on and then settle into a thumb under chin, fist over lips, lady on her laptop thinking pose a few hours later, i will smear a superfuckingbold shade of orange-y red opaque lip stain all over my face.

this happens mostly in public.

all the young dudes.

swoon
“so okay, i don’t want to be a traitor to my generation and all but i don’t get how guys dress today. i mean, come on, it looks like they just fell out of bed and put on some baggy pants and take their greasy hair – ew – and cover it up with a backwards cap and like, we’re expected to swoon? … i don’t think so.”

– cher horowitz

intro to straight dude.

i miss those days
i like you
me: yentas! i have a 1st date question & need a straight dude’s perspective.
jj: [ … straight dude radio silence … ]
pg: [ … straight dude radio silence … ]
me: is it rude to wear red lipstick? like, it won’t come off as “oh, hello. i’m a hipster pain in the ass who’s gonna make it semi-difficult to nearly impossible for you to kiss me?” i just want to be sensibly sexy plus it would really put the period on the end of my black & white 1st date outfit sentence.
jj: i don’t think it’s rude. i think it’s probably actually totally sexy. like, “hey, new guy. i bet you can’t stop looking at my lips.”
pg: totally not rude! & if it happened, who wouldn’t want to show off a smooch from you?
jj: since when is lipstick prohibitive to kissing?
me: woah.

probably actually totally sexy … ?
NOT prohibitive to kissing … ?
waaaa waaaa weeee wah … ?

ladies.
laaaaadies.
take good notes.

this shit will definitely be on the final.

beyoncé unplugged.

beyonce
last night, after spending 45 super intense minutes with taye (or, as she likes to call it, “tayetime”), i stopped by angelica kitchen to pick up something healthy for dinner (or, as simon doonan likes to call it, “lesbian take out”). my order took longer than i expected and i realized mid-way through my walk home that the halftime show was definitely going to start before i got back to my apartment. since there was NO FUCKING WAY i was going miss even a small part of this and get downsized to a janky, post-stream recording hours later, i decided to pop into the first place i saw that had both the game and the sound on. aaaaaaaaaand that, my friends, is how i ended up openly crying in a laundromat on 1st ave and 11th st.

granted, my tears were caused mostly by joy, respect, awe, and straight up exhaustion through osmosis, it was still a little bit sad / embarrassing all the same. after about 15 minutes of sheer holy shit wtf no she didn’t-ness, sasha fierce did her signature knees up, floorward back bend and concluded the greatest fucking halftime show this nation has ever known. just then, one of the filipino laundromat owners rolled by with a shopping cart full of wash and fold deliveries and noticed that everyone in his shop was open mouth staring at the television. he stopped for a second and looked up at the screen. then he looked over at me (crying). then up at the screen (halftime). then over at me (still crying). then up at the screen (still halftime). suddenly, his eyes got really wide and he said …

“j-lo?”

ok, ranting.

17th December 1934: American actress Jean Harlow on the set of the MGM musical melodrama 'Reckless' with director Victor Fleming and co-star William Powell. (Photo by Virgil Apger)
guys, pls stop asking me out on a date
and then asking me to fucking plan it.

THERE ARE RULES FOR A REASON.

did you put in a little effort?
did you suggest a half-decent bar?
congrats! your odds just increased →

SIGNIFICANTLY.

why? because it tells me that you are capable and decisive and creative and adventurous and smart and assertive and just fucking old enough to know better than to make me listen to you talk about your extended birthright trip in some lackluster bar that has the lights turned up to asshole. let me be clear. if you cannot suggest a good first date spot, asking me to suggest one for you will just delay the inevitable.

SERIOUSLY.

google someone who doesn’t care.
your money’s no good here.

thinkin bout 2004.

you hurted me pretty bad
“it’s the sense of touch. in any real city, you walk, you know? you brush past people, people bump into you … nobody touches you. we’re always behind this metal and glass. i think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.”

– crash (2004)

this movie came out when i was a freshman in college and a lot of my newly acquired, ivy-envious social circle thought it was a terrible film. i’m pretty sure, after vocalizing their massive distaste to the group, they had little difficulty forgetting it was ever made. i, however, remember liking it a lot, if only for don cheadle’s opening line. brushing and bumping and not touching and crashing? it’s been like [pause, calculating] 8.5 years since this movie was released [pause, “holy shit. it’s been 8.5 years? seriously?”] and i’m still quoting it. c’mon. don’t be like that. this line is gorgeous! it’s about aggressive loneliness. and cruel disconnectedness. and like … having feelingz.

i have all the feelingz.
also, sandra bullock.

i peaked in hs.

book
week 11
story tiiiiiiime. so, as you may or may not know, i grew up in michiana (a classy place named after classy radio personalities who didn’t feel like taking five extra seconds to distinguish between michigan and northern indiana during weekly broadcasts). basically, it was a REALLY small town and a REALLY big deal when friday’s, chili’s, AND barnes & noble all opened up at the exact same time on top of neighboring cornfields in the middle of mishawaka (another classy place named after a native american princess who got stabbed in the boob). wow, wikipedia. just. wow. aaaaanyway, when the time came for my older sister to consider her part-time high school job options, she wisely choose books and newspapers over lukewarm queso and suspender flair. 5 years later, i was more than happy to cash in on the nepotism and opted for the same. let the record reflect, i LOVED working at barnes & noble. the in-store cafe was 50% off, i made a KILLING during christmas (#jewishhhh), and they paid me to wear the six flags clifford couture.

yes, kids.
mama was a staaaaaar.

the oppressive male ok’s.

okez
quick question: how much more post-party, liberal artsy small talk am i going to have to endure before my bevy of brilliant business ideas starts getting venture capitalized? i mean, seriously. “the oppressive male gayz” would be a great name for a gay bar. listen, we’ll soft open in some questionably uncomplicated neighborhood like chinatown or QUEEEEENZ → aaaaaand then, [dramatic pause] once our bi-weekly dance-a-thon-with-a-python-a-thon goes viral, nymag will note that it was – not us – but our fiercely loyal major-regs (major regulars) who shortened its name to …

l’OMG.

i wrote it down.

maybe it’s good that i’m tossing, turning.
maybe i need this to be difficult.
maybe i need this to have holes.
to be … [don’t] …  [don’t say it] …

imperfect.

and stressful.
and exaggerated.
and over thought.

maybe it’s time for me to roll around in my sleep for something.

so if it works out,
if i end up getting it,
i’ll know that i wanted it.
that i actually wanted it.

and i’ll go in there.
i’ll go in there everyday.
kicking so much ass.
just to fucking keep it.

stop … you’re ruining it.

why is the sky blue?
“the explanation for why the sky is blue involves so much of the natural sciences: the colors within the visual spectrum, the wave nature of light, the angle at which sunlight hits the atmosphere, the mathematics of scattering, the size of nitrogen and oxygen molecules, and even the way human eyes perceive color. it’s most of science in a question that a young child can ask.”

– nicholas christakis

ghost bra: the way of the sample sale.

yesterday i went to a lingerie sample sale and even though this was maybe the second time i’ve attempted to buy underwear somewhere other than a gapbody 100% organic cotton snooze-a-thon, the wise women of the changing room decided i was their sexywear samurai. seriously, it was nonstop. “does this fit?” (nope). “does make me look fat?” (yup). “100% silk stretches, right?” (wrong). “which one’s better?” (neither). i almost gave up and walked out until this sweet young thing tapped me on the shoulder:

her: excuse me.
me: yes?
her: [lifts up shirt] do you think see-through bras are weird?
me: do i think they’re weird?
her: yea, like do you think seeing this part [points to her boobs] is weird?
me: [pauses, thinks] no, i don’t it’s weird. i just– is someone else going to see it?
her: ummm … maybe. probably?
me: well, i don’t think they’re weird i just think [pauses, actually thinks] i think when someone else sees you in nothing but your bra and underwear, you’re at your most naked, your most vulnerable and the last thing you want to feel in that moment is unsafe or uncomfortable or uncertain. so i would have to say, if wearing a see-through bra makes you question your choices or feel unsafe or uncomfortable or uncertain in any way, don’t get it. don’t wear it.
her: [pauses, thinks] good point. thanks.
me: no problem.

namaste.
go get laid.

friend poll.

i like cause you like me
question = “what do you like?” via text.
time of day = sat, jan 12 @ 10pm est.
reason = ummmmfun.

quiet, david bowie, booties (sb)
songs, stories, american diners (ef)
road trips, pie, laughter (jg)
tight man butts, red wine, feeling safe (ep)
traveling, making movies, swimming (cn)
books, bourbon, candy (cs)
soulcycle, notre dame, traveling (ks)
hilary clinton (st)
bicycles, improv / laughter, interesting and inspiring magazine articles (cs)
loyal friends, beach vacations, walk-in closets (bs)
false eyelashes, pink bras, crab dip (js)
sunshine, ginger chews, salad (su)
being on / by the water, french girls w/ brown hair, wild animal screams / howls / roars / etc. (jk)
you, you, and you! (hm)
book of mormon, coffee, amy marsh (zr)
juggling a soccer ball with a friend or two outside, snekers with dope subtle colors, the feeling after a good swim when it’s hard to lift my own arms up to wash my armpits (nm)
surf, tits, beer (lf)
pancakes for dinner, 80s power ballads, awkward first kisses (lm)
jeopary, baked goods, that feel of “this is exactly where i want to be, what i want to be doing, and who i want to be with right now” (ar)
wheat toast, cigarettes, medium-sized dogs (aj)
nightmare before christmas, dc comics, legos (dg)
my girlfriend, scotch, movies (jj)
mint chocolate chip ice cream, meeting people with passions, the smell of newspapers (sm)
cheese, goats, corby (ni)
getting to the movie theater early, the crunch of wood chips when you walk on them, the shower after a run / lift, MONEY $$$$$ (mc)
bike rides, movies, well-made objects (ps)
the sound of rain on my air conditioner in the window (cs)
i like my friends, i like my cat, and i like mariah carey (bn)
sushi, trying something new, reciprocation (jk)
corgis, kombucha, kindness / consideration (sr)
music that makes the world spin around while i’m lying on the ground, funny ppl, snail mail (ml)
soulcycle, the view from my apartment at sunset on a clear day like today was, how i felt this week, you (dd)

ed. major apologies if my text came off as insincere weirdspam. a few weeks ago, i saw something on the internet that gave me the urge to text people i like and ask, “what do you like?” without context or expectation. i’ve now spent over two hours needle in a haystacking my google reader trying to find the thing that inspired me to do this in the first place, but … of course … nada. aaaaanyway, if you’re at all willing to look like a freaky weirdo via text message, i HIGHLY recommend doing this. each and every response made me laugh and smile and clap my hands together in 1000% joyful agreement. can’t ask for much more outta the weekend than that. also, corby is a dog.

instagram dat joint.


.
i almost didn’t watch this
b/c of the bro-y font choices.
but … well … then i did.

i have decided to excuse the
“look look funny stuff” aesthetic,
b/c 2:17 caused a scene at the oatmeal place.

Published
Categorized as .

this year.

kelly
picked up my winter coat from the dry cleaners and promptly made a list of all the really important things i want to accomplish in 2013:

no
more
wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiire
haaaaaangers.

bébé.

kids with swag
“my friend sari and i were talking about the experience of expecting a second child, and she said, because i knew what it felt like to love jude, i was able to tap into this deep, true kind of love for teddy from the very instant i knew i was pregnant with her. i loved that.” – cup of jo

jude …
teddy …

can we all pause?
for just a second?

THESE BABY NAMES ARE PRETENTIOUS AND ABSURD.

then make it your beeswax to be here by 9:30.

wet hot american summer
” . . . or a dinner at a restaurant where i was meeting two other couples. my wife was away, so i was flying solo. i arrived at two minutes to eight for an eight o’clock booking. at 8:20, i was into my second glass of pinot and at half-past i got a text saying ‘on the way’. we finally were all seated at 8:45. there were not even attempted excuses from either of the two couples, who seemed oblivious to the fact i might actually have got there at the agreed time. meanwhile i had put a huge dent in the bottle of pinot, and was ready to go home.

and it is not that we lead ‘busy lives’. that’s a given, we all do, and it’s a cop out to use that as an excuse. it’s simply that some people no longer even pretend that they think your time is as important as theirs. and technology makes it worse. it seems texting or emailing that you are late somehow means you are no longer late.

rubbish.
you are rude.
and inconsiderate.”
.
as a founding member of the “10 minutes early and always waiting for someone” club (read → i may or may not have chosen ‘prettypunctual’ as a username at one point in time), i love greg’s post and greg’s response equally.

cheers, indeed.

accentuate the positive.

attitude

i took marvin’s reSOULution ride this morning (it’s called a “reSOULultion” because you “resolve” to ride for a brutal 90min instead of the usual 45min). after it was over and i didn’t die, i hopped off my bike, buried my face in a complimentary towel, and – quite unexpectedly – burst into tears. the truth? i don’t know a whole lot about the gritty specifics and logistics of 2013 and it’s frustrating the fuck out of me.…{deep breath, heavy sigh}…but … there’s always a but … i do know some things, better things. for instance, how i felt this morning is how i want to feel all year:

tested.
sweaty.
open.
ready.

and that’s how i’ll get to tomorrow.

c’mon, guys. woo. woo!
happy tomorrow.

looking back.

the bold and the brave
last friday, i decided to be a little bit bold and a little bit brave. this meant combing through my contacts and emailing a small and select (but wise and mighty) group of peers / mentors at the top of my “i have so much respect for what you do and what you’re about” list to let them know i was officially looking for work. wtf / yikes. amirite?

to be perfectly honest, sitting down to recap everything that happened this past year was incredibly cathartic. 2012 was such a wildly empowering and surprising and exciting and scary and surreal 12 months for me. it’s blowing my mind right now that they’re almost over. insane.

anyway, do you want read what i wrote? no? not right now? you’ve got a thing? maybe later? well, according to “the news” i’m a card carrying member of generation overshare, so you don’t have a choice. below is the email in full. MY BLOG.
.

[name] !

i know this is a little random, but i’ve been thinking about you a ton lately and i wanted to update you on how my 2012 went down (or up, depending on your point of view). i’m not sure if you remember, but back in november 2011, after working an exhausting average of 60-80 hrs a week for a year as the executive assistant to the vp of the google creativelab, i decided to take some time off to recharge and only do things i wholly, fully, 1000% completely loved to do. basically, i spent my days practicing yoga, updating my blog, drafting an official ny to do list, leading storytelling field trips at 826nyc, painting axes at best made, developing disposable cameras, turning strangers into friends, and re-falling in love with new york many, many times over. thankfully, only doing things in the pursuit of happiness (and not in the pursuit of answering “soooo, what do YOU do?”) eventually led to happiness as well as an opportunity to help produce a levi’s + intel collaboration. i stayed happy and worked on that project from july 2012 until it launched globally (and successfully) this past month.

the end.
just kidding.

that was just “a lot” and i felt like it needed an ending (thanks for hanging in there). aaaanyway, i wrote you this email because i wanted to say hello (hello!), wish you a happy new year (happy new year!), and let you know i am actively looking for work right now. i’d also like to ask you for a small favor → could you keep me in mind in case anything of the “we need to hire someone smart, funny, enthusiastic, creative, tech-savvy, social-savvy, people-savvy, and just really f-ing organized” variety happens to pop up on your radar?

let me know what you think.
let me know what’s new.

i’d love to hear either (or both!).

xoxo,
amy

ed. this email was written in the spirit of putting it all out there and just going for it.

oh oh oh.

stranger: doing anything for christmas?
stranger: doing anything for the holidays?
stranger: going home for christmas?
stranger: going home for the holidays?
stranger: doing anything different?
stranger: doing anything special?
stranger: oh, really?
stranger: oh, seriously?
stranger: oh.

dear everyone,
e v e r y w h e r e .

stop.

– i’m going to soulcycle
– i’m taking a very long shower
– i’m seeing les miz with chloe
– i’m having breakfast for diner
– i’m drinking a glass of wine
– i’m buying more cold medicine
– i’m repeating repeating the song below
– i’m going to bed, happy and alone

xoxo,
me