The best of which: Fresh's new Firebird Mascara. Their Supernova Mascara has been my splurge of choice for some time, but I think they may have outdone themselves with Firebird. The Firebird Mascara claims to give lashes an alluring "feathery" look. Upon trying the in-store sample after a long day at work, my eyes instantly looked more awake and demanded attention in a very subtle way. This mascara has a creamy consistence and goes on very smooth, creating great length and def no clumps. How do they do it? After using Supernova for years and now trying Firebird, I'm now convinced that Fresh somehow injects a little bit of magic in each tube of mascara. There's no fancy torture-like brushes, no foundation layer of white gunk, no vibrating wand, just damn good mascara in a pretty teal tube. At $26 (one dollar more than Supernova) I couldn't splurge on Firebird this time around, but it has absolutely made my beauty must-have list and will a justified purchase for my bridesmaid look at my bff's wedding next month! If not for being a broke recessionista, I'd be all over this ish pronto!
1.31.2009
Hello lover!
With the recession (which is ruining my life!) one thing that I've majorly given up is even walking into Sephora. I used to go in at least once a week to browse, keep up to date on any new products, and I'll admit it...play with the makeup! Hey, I spend enough money in there that I don't feel bad one little bit. But about 6 months ago or so with the economy in the crapper and my bank account following, I had to give up these trips because the temptation to buy was just too great. So when I walked into a Sephora yesterday for the first time in literally months (to buy their amazing $3 dual eye pencil sharpener) I felt lost and surprised at how many new products really have been released.
The best of which: Fresh's new Firebird Mascara. Their Supernova Mascara has been my splurge of choice for some time, but I think they may have outdone themselves with Firebird. The Firebird Mascara claims to give lashes an alluring "feathery" look. Upon trying the in-store sample after a long day at work, my eyes instantly looked more awake and demanded attention in a very subtle way. This mascara has a creamy consistence and goes on very smooth, creating great length and def no clumps. How do they do it? After using Supernova for years and now trying Firebird, I'm now convinced that Fresh somehow injects a little bit of magic in each tube of mascara. There's no fancy torture-like brushes, no foundation layer of white gunk, no vibrating wand, just damn good mascara in a pretty teal tube. At $26 (one dollar more than Supernova) I couldn't splurge on Firebird this time around, but it has absolutely made my beauty must-have list and will a justified purchase for my bridesmaid look at my bff's wedding next month! If not for being a broke recessionista, I'd be all over this ish pronto!
The best of which: Fresh's new Firebird Mascara. Their Supernova Mascara has been my splurge of choice for some time, but I think they may have outdone themselves with Firebird. The Firebird Mascara claims to give lashes an alluring "feathery" look. Upon trying the in-store sample after a long day at work, my eyes instantly looked more awake and demanded attention in a very subtle way. This mascara has a creamy consistence and goes on very smooth, creating great length and def no clumps. How do they do it? After using Supernova for years and now trying Firebird, I'm now convinced that Fresh somehow injects a little bit of magic in each tube of mascara. There's no fancy torture-like brushes, no foundation layer of white gunk, no vibrating wand, just damn good mascara in a pretty teal tube. At $26 (one dollar more than Supernova) I couldn't splurge on Firebird this time around, but it has absolutely made my beauty must-have list and will a justified purchase for my bridesmaid look at my bff's wedding next month! If not for being a broke recessionista, I'd be all over this ish pronto!
1.27.2009
Ooooooh, horsies...
White Horse Tavern
West Village
567 Hudson Street (at 11th Street)
New York, NY 10014
212-243-9260
For those of you in the literary know, White Horse Tavern holds much historical significance. Dylan Thomas, who I guess is kind of a big deal, was a regular patron and had his last meal here before he died. The modern day drinker (even those like myself who think chick-lit counts as literature) will also enjoy this traditional tavern for a quaint boozy night with friends. I recently enjoyed an excellent evening with a group of friends conversating about everything from politics to whether it's expected to give a HJ on a first date. Hey, that's what many, many rounds of beer bring out in a gal, not to mention salivating over the tasty and inexpensive selection of bar foods. Allegedly you have to be 25-years-old to get in, but just be on good behavior and you shouldn't have a problem. White Horse is the perfect place to bond with friends and share a little TMI in a rare location that is quiet and welcoming enough to encourage, *gasp*, conversation!
Rating: 4 stars
West Village
567 Hudson Street (at 11th Street)
New York, NY 10014
212-243-9260
For those of you in the literary know, White Horse Tavern holds much historical significance. Dylan Thomas, who I guess is kind of a big deal, was a regular patron and had his last meal here before he died. The modern day drinker (even those like myself who think chick-lit counts as literature) will also enjoy this traditional tavern for a quaint boozy night with friends. I recently enjoyed an excellent evening with a group of friends conversating about everything from politics to whether it's expected to give a HJ on a first date. Hey, that's what many, many rounds of beer bring out in a gal, not to mention salivating over the tasty and inexpensive selection of bar foods. Allegedly you have to be 25-years-old to get in, but just be on good behavior and you shouldn't have a problem. White Horse is the perfect place to bond with friends and share a little TMI in a rare location that is quiet and welcoming enough to encourage, *gasp*, conversation!
Rating: 4 stars
1.26.2009
Isn't it ironic...
Ponder this one for a sec:
The song "Proud", theme for reality TV show extraordinaire "The Biggest Loser", is sang by a British artist named Heather Small.
Yes, it's been around for awhile, but thought that was kinda funny. And the song is so my new jam!
The song "Proud", theme for reality TV show extraordinaire "The Biggest Loser", is sang by a British artist named Heather Small.
Yes, it's been around for awhile, but thought that was kinda funny. And the song is so my new jam!
1.22.2009
VP of Hotness!
Yesterday I did the Hollywood Report with on "Me and Vinnie" on Sirius XM Stars Too with Vinnie Politan and the rest of the guys on his show (weekdays 6-9am East on Sirius 108/XM 139, always a good time). We were covering all of the celeb sightings, performances, and fashions at the inauguration, and I mentioned that I thought Joe Biden was sexy. Well, apparently this is was the first time they've ever heard anyone say that because they thought this was hysterical. They even went as far as to Photoshop a hilarious image of me daydreaming about Joe Biden. Am I way off base with this? Please tell me there are others out there who find Joe as sexy as I do so I don't feel like a political-pervert!
1.20.2009
Celeb sighting
Spotted: Leanne Marshall, winner of "Project Runway" season 5, waiting for the downtown 2 train at 34th Street yesterday afternoon. Leanne was looking cute with her signature long blunt bangs and Mood fabrics bag in hand. Could we be seeing a showing from the budding designer in a few weeks?
1.16.2009
Emotional Menstrual Musings
So, let it be known that I do love this city. But as can probably be deduced from a few previous posts, I did not grow up here and lived in a completely different environment until I was almost 19 years old. Being a native Mid-Westerner (well, at least that's what I consider Pittsburgh, PA) in Manhattan can be at times very interesting. And every now and then you have a night where you really, really miss home and your family.
Tonight it was spurred by menstruation and chick-lit. I've been an emotional PMS-er for many years, and in these states anything can spur the waterworks. Notable instances include everything from a baby throwing her toy out of the stroller to basically any country song. But tonight on a lazy, frigid night in, I'm reaching the climax of Nadine Haobsh's new release, "Confessions of a Beauty Addict." Not exactly Pulitzer Prize winning literature, but every now and then chick-lit manges to hit a little too close to home. Haobsh's heroine, Bella (whom, let's face it, is most likely an autobiographical character), is a successful beauty editor living in New York City (shocker), but has humble roots in a small town in Ohio. Bella makes a trip home to be the maid-of-honor at a wedding and emotionally explores her connection to her hometown, family, the house she grew up in, her childhood stuffed animal, etc. Cue the tears right about...here. In a month I will also be making a trip to Pittsburgh to appear as a bridesmaid in a wedding and see my family whom I miss more and more every day. In the novel, everyone in Ohio is fascinated by Bella's "exciting" big city life and proud that she did something "daring" and different with her life, not the norm in her hometown. By this point I have the day's purple Sue Devitt metallic eye crayon streaked all over my face.
I'm happy with my life in New York City despite the obvious struggles, but there are absolutely times when wonder what life would have been like out in the "real world". Let's face it, New York is NOT the real world. I love NYC and have a genuine connection with the city, but I have a genuine connection with very few (if any) people here and often feel like I don't have that emotional support system that runs rampant in middle America. So of course the next emotion is the urge to call Mommy, but the clock tells me that it's 11:19pm and aging parents in middle America are probably falling asleep, even on a Friday night.
*New York I love you, but you're bringing me down...* Do all Mid-West transplants into Manhattan feel this way?
Tonight it was spurred by menstruation and chick-lit. I've been an emotional PMS-er for many years, and in these states anything can spur the waterworks. Notable instances include everything from a baby throwing her toy out of the stroller to basically any country song. But tonight on a lazy, frigid night in, I'm reaching the climax of Nadine Haobsh's new release, "Confessions of a Beauty Addict." Not exactly Pulitzer Prize winning literature, but every now and then chick-lit manges to hit a little too close to home. Haobsh's heroine, Bella (whom, let's face it, is most likely an autobiographical character), is a successful beauty editor living in New York City (shocker), but has humble roots in a small town in Ohio. Bella makes a trip home to be the maid-of-honor at a wedding and emotionally explores her connection to her hometown, family, the house she grew up in, her childhood stuffed animal, etc. Cue the tears right about...here. In a month I will also be making a trip to Pittsburgh to appear as a bridesmaid in a wedding and see my family whom I miss more and more every day. In the novel, everyone in Ohio is fascinated by Bella's "exciting" big city life and proud that she did something "daring" and different with her life, not the norm in her hometown. By this point I have the day's purple Sue Devitt metallic eye crayon streaked all over my face.
I'm happy with my life in New York City despite the obvious struggles, but there are absolutely times when wonder what life would have been like out in the "real world". Let's face it, New York is NOT the real world. I love NYC and have a genuine connection with the city, but I have a genuine connection with very few (if any) people here and often feel like I don't have that emotional support system that runs rampant in middle America. So of course the next emotion is the urge to call Mommy, but the clock tells me that it's 11:19pm and aging parents in middle America are probably falling asleep, even on a Friday night.
*New York I love you, but you're bringing me down...* Do all Mid-West transplants into Manhattan feel this way?
1.13.2009
And it took me two days to get the damn elephant stamp off my hand...
Pink Elephant
Chelsea
527 W 27th Street (b/w 10th and 11th Avenues)
New York, NY 10001
212-463-0000
www.pinkelephantclub.com/
As one club-goer slurred "It's been here for likkkkkkkke forever and is still awesome! That like NEVER happens with big clubs in New York!!" And I would agree. Pink Elephant recently celebrated its four year anniversary, so as I visited for the first time I wasn't sure whether to expect the popular celeb hangout of its heyday...or a washed up winter destination for the Jersey Shore crowd. What I found at Pink Elephant was an exciting mix of painted go-go dancers, smoke, somewhat blinding lights, and beautiful people couch-dancing to good techno music while sipping on vodka-crans from bottle service. Okay, so it does seem pretty cliche and typical, but these generic ingredients mesh for a great party at Pink Elephant. It may not be the largest (at one point we literally couldn't move) or most unique club, but something about Pink Elephant just plain works. I'm willing to attribute it to the people. The right mix of B&T and real New Yorkers ready to let loose keep the snobbery down and the fun up. Just couch-dance in stilettos at your own risk.
Chelsea
527 W 27th Street (b/w 10th and 11th Avenues)
New York, NY 10001
212-463-0000
www.pinkelephantclub.com/
As one club-goer slurred "It's been here for likkkkkkkke forever and is still awesome! That like NEVER happens with big clubs in New York!!" And I would agree. Pink Elephant recently celebrated its four year anniversary, so as I visited for the first time I wasn't sure whether to expect the popular celeb hangout of its heyday...or a washed up winter destination for the Jersey Shore crowd. What I found at Pink Elephant was an exciting mix of painted go-go dancers, smoke, somewhat blinding lights, and beautiful people couch-dancing to good techno music while sipping on vodka-crans from bottle service. Okay, so it does seem pretty cliche and typical, but these generic ingredients mesh for a great party at Pink Elephant. It may not be the largest (at one point we literally couldn't move) or most unique club, but something about Pink Elephant just plain works. I'm willing to attribute it to the people. The right mix of B&T and real New Yorkers ready to let loose keep the snobbery down and the fun up. Just couch-dance in stilettos at your own risk.
1.07.2009
Nice junk, sign my Playbill?
I don't go to the theatre for the nudity...really
After months of fantasizing and many dirty, dirty thoughts, I finally dragged my ass to the theatre and got student rush tickets to "Equus" on Broadway with my outdated student ID (thank you S**** Hall University for not putting expiration dates on IDs, and congrats to me for still looking as young and fabulous as I did many moons ago when my photo was taken!). For those of you who have been living under a rock, the current revival of Peter Shaffer's play "Equus" not only is a great literary and theatrical work...but Daniel Radcliffe aka Harry Potter also gets completely nekked in it. And who wouldn't wanna see that?
Penises aside, this is a beautifully done play. The story of "Equus" surrounds a young stable hand and his conflicted relationship with horses. The horses are artistically portrayed by men in minimal costume with a steel horsehead mask and hooves to indicate their equine nature. Though the men cast as horses had no lines, their amazing talent still was still exposed through their intricate and extremely accurate movement and body language. Radcliffe and fellow "Harry Potter" actor Richard Griffiths headlined this extremely talented cast, and both men could easily receive Tony nominations.
Radcliffe's nude scene is artistically and naturally done, but judging by the conversation of those around me, society still hasn't fully gotten past the novelty of seeing Harry Potter's magic wand. What the hell, I may be a true, mature theatre lover, but I'll admit that I felt a naughty tingle of the magic. And the fact that I chose to see "Equus" when I've never before seen a non-musical on Broadway of course had nothing to do with the promised peep show, honestly.
But this raises the issue: How do you treat someone after you've "artistically" seen their penis? Occasionally when I see a show with a big name star or an actor who's given a truly inspiring performance, I do the stage door thing and wait outside to meet the cast after the show. However, as much as I would have loved to have been able to say that I met Harry Potter, I MEAN, Daniel Radcliffe, I decided against seizing the opportunity. Not that waiting at a stage door in the bitter New York winter to meet someone is the most natural of circumstances, but really, what are you to say to someone after starting at their penis for a solid ten minutes "Nice junk, sign my Playbill?"
After months of fantasizing and many dirty, dirty thoughts, I finally dragged my ass to the theatre and got student rush tickets to "Equus" on Broadway with my outdated student ID (thank you S**** Hall University for not putting expiration dates on IDs, and congrats to me for still looking as young and fabulous as I did many moons ago when my photo was taken!). For those of you who have been living under a rock, the current revival of Peter Shaffer's play "Equus" not only is a great literary and theatrical work...but Daniel Radcliffe aka Harry Potter also gets completely nekked in it. And who wouldn't wanna see that?
Penises aside, this is a beautifully done play. The story of "Equus" surrounds a young stable hand and his conflicted relationship with horses. The horses are artistically portrayed by men in minimal costume with a steel horsehead mask and hooves to indicate their equine nature. Though the men cast as horses had no lines, their amazing talent still was still exposed through their intricate and extremely accurate movement and body language. Radcliffe and fellow "Harry Potter" actor Richard Griffiths headlined this extremely talented cast, and both men could easily receive Tony nominations.
Radcliffe's nude scene is artistically and naturally done, but judging by the conversation of those around me, society still hasn't fully gotten past the novelty of seeing Harry Potter's magic wand. What the hell, I may be a true, mature theatre lover, but I'll admit that I felt a naughty tingle of the magic. And the fact that I chose to see "Equus" when I've never before seen a non-musical on Broadway of course had nothing to do with the promised peep show, honestly.
But this raises the issue: How do you treat someone after you've "artistically" seen their penis? Occasionally when I see a show with a big name star or an actor who's given a truly inspiring performance, I do the stage door thing and wait outside to meet the cast after the show. However, as much as I would have loved to have been able to say that I met Harry Potter, I MEAN, Daniel Radcliffe, I decided against seizing the opportunity. Not that waiting at a stage door in the bitter New York winter to meet someone is the most natural of circumstances, but really, what are you to say to someone after starting at their penis for a solid ten minutes "Nice junk, sign my Playbill?"
Back from Holiday Hiatus
Sooooo I ended up taking a lil hiatus over the holidays to leave the Big Apple for Da Burgh. Ate some jumbo, saw some mullets, but now I'm back in Manhattan and back to blogging for 2009.
Enjoy.
Enjoy.
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