Like chain-mail with ASCII art was to AOL in 1999, lists of somethings-a-day are to all the social networking sites of today. We’re all guilty of it. Pinterest. A pin a day. Tumblr. A reblog a day. Instagram. A photo a day.
And, we’ve all tried. Most have failed. I certainly have. Especially at this:
Well, atleast at the ASCII part [ch-chiinng!]. Too much? [And total cred to Creative Studios…never in a million years could I make ASCII art like…that.]
But, in all seriousness, it’s nice to be able to do a list of something a day and check it off. Especially if you live an abnormal life of no consistency and want to feel better about the small successes.
So, I am wanting to start a something-a-day for my life. And not necessarily an internet something-a-day, but something that sparks creativity for me. Tina has her nails and cats. Bailey has the entirety of NYC, and Katlyn has marriage and the baby M. So perhaps I’ll start a Julie Powell thing…only, much lessy whiny.
I suppose I just need to find direction as I move towards that large apple of a city in the sky [not Heaven]. So..what’ll it be? A Sketch-a-Day…Recipe-a-Day…Watercolor Painting-a-Day…Spanish Word-a-Day…ehh…Break a plate-a-Day…Ride a rollercoaster-a-Day…Buy a plane ticket-a-Day…I shall keep you all updated with the thrilling details!
I’m hoping it will take over all the social networks.
I’ve gathered you all here at this very special corner of internet to make an announcement. There have been rumors swirling among some (none) of you and I’ve decided to address them. It’s true. My birthday was on Friday and I am now 23 years old.
[I’m super excited about it]
Now, it could be argued that 23 is not a significant benchmark year but I say it is. It marks a point in an individual’s life where it is no longer acceptable to eat ice cream for breakfast. So today, I have decided to officially declare my womanhood with a classy lady manicure.
[Please note the mature floral background—disregard Kung Fu Panda.]
With this manicure, I leave behind childish things to embrace more grown up interests. For example, I’ve downloaded the BBC News app for my phone and there is tofu in my refrigerator. I still live with my parents but now I’m going to pretend like they live with me.
P.S. Someone suggested a Lady Gaga manicure. THANK YOU. I’ve been planning one out in my head for a while and it is on the way!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TINA!
I’ll tell you what. Reality television, no matter how unrealistic, serves in some purpose to make people (me) feel better. About many things. I wish watching Sex and the City or Grey’s Anatomy would make me feel good all the time, but it doesn’t.
Why? Because for one thing, on Sex and the City, there’s ALWAYS a happy ending. Every woman gets what she wants in the end. I mean, I guess if you watch every episode except the final one, then maybe they don’t always-always get what they want and it is a process, but still, these ladies aren’t worrying about money or terrorism or losing their jobs or illness or families. I mean I guess for about five minutes in a few episodes, they worried about those things. But still, do you see what I mean?
And then let’s point to Grey’s Anatomy, simply because that’s what I’m watching right now. Everything in this show is so damn depressing! Fell in love? Too bad, he’s gonna die now. Got pregnant? Too bad, you’re not gonna have it and your husband’s gonna leave you. Can’t have children? Too bad— the adoption agency doesn’t like you and your husband’s also gonna leave you. (These aren’t accurate plot descriptions for Grey’s, but you get the jist.)
And on top of everything else, you know all these Hollywood and NYC actors in these programs are nothing like these characters and are actually leading very lovely lives with expensive organic foods, delicious glasses of expensive wine, sex with very attractive partners, and sleep in very well-furnished apartments. And that leads you where? Wanting to land a role on Grey’s Anatomy? Yeah right.
Which is why I like reality television. Yeah, pretty much all the people I watch on these shows are probably richer than the actors on these scripted shows BUT look, the Kardashians? They make me feel okay, because 1) they’re sexy and I like looking at them (let’s be real) 2) they are curvy women so I don’t feel bad eating fro-yo while I watch them 3) they fight with each other but they make up 4) they prove that making really big mistakes in your life can lead to really big dollars in your life 5) aren’t all those reasons inspiration enough?
Next, Bethenny Frankel of Bethenny Ever After. Okay, so she’s rich as hell, and has a cute baby, cute dog, and hot husband, but she also has a lot of issues. But even so, she displays all her relationship, work, and family problems for the world (people who watch Bravo!) to see. I mean just watch this promo:
Sheeeit, you guys. See what I mean?
And don’t even let me get started on the Bachelor/Bachelorette series! I definitely think relationships are fun and I want love in my life, but at the same time, I’m not going to cry my eyes out and fight to the death for a winemaker with bad hair and bad manners. Yup.
So there you have it— reality television: Putting actors out of work and making me feel a little better about my own life, one loud mouth at a time.
Queen Bey has a Tumblr!
Yeah i’ll be reblogging that thing like a mofo.
Liz Lemon’s baby was “born” on 4/20. i was born on 4/20. Coincidence?
I had a couple beers last night (by couple i mean many) and did my nails. I kept it simple.
[I don’t know what that fox thing is but I’ve had it forever]
That’s holographic glitter mother fuckers. It makes each nail look like a rare pokemon card. Seriously, the glitter is super sparkly and awesome. It’s hard to capture the effect in a photo but just take my word for it. I only lie sometimes.
A friend asked me if I take requests. I would love to! So if you have an idea you’d like me to try (maybe because you’re too lazy to do it yourself) just click “ask me anything” and let me know.
I accidently just spent 30 minutes looking at pictures of Beyonce.
I don’t even look at pictures of my baby that long. I mean… My baby is cute and all but she ain’t no Beyonce…
Actually I am really relieved my baby isn’t Beyonce because that would cause some awkward questions about paternity. Plus I would not have been able to push all that hair and booty out my body. I’m too skinny and frail. Let’s be real.
So I’m house-sitting right now, and that means I have cable for a week. We are too cheap and snobby (“Oh we don’t have cable…we read really long books and discuss jazz.”) to have cable at our apartment. I’m doing this properly, too. I am so involved in the Real Housewives lives, I am starting to genuinely neglect my family. “Ok… Great, husband….Yeah I care about your hopes and dreams, I guess. But what about Gretchen and Tamra!? Will they ever end this tension?” “Yeah, Madelyn, you said your first word. If it isn’t ‘NeNe’ or ‘BravoTV’, I don’t care.”
I would watch anything on Bravo. I’d watch “When presidents poop” without shame.
It is amazing what we will distract ourselves with. I watch other people live instead of really living, myself. That really is why we ditched cable at out apartment. It was taking too much time away from our family. Between Matt’s obsession with zombie shows and my fascination with the drama of rich douchebags, we don’t even see each others genitals when cable tv is involved… Much less use them on each other (awkward description of sex…sorry).
I just thought I would let you know that my husband and I are not boning this week due to prior engagements with cable television. I figured you cared…
Ok my daughter is currently in an epic battle with the curtains. The curtains are winning. I have to go help.
-real housewife of someone else’s house while I house-sit (aka. Katlyn)
I’m writing a novel.
That sentence either makes me sound really important or really douchey. Both are true.
This is my daughter and I and our general outlook on the day:
And with that, we are going to the park to judge people. Only losers with out jobs go to the park on a Tuesday…