Half the fear of failure is of the judgement of false friends we feel compelled to impress but don't like.

Alain de Botton 

Colonel Mustard

This one article of clothing has made me feel like I have an entirely new wardrobe. Thrift stores ftw!

Salander and Everdeen

Rooney Mara as Lisbeth Salander

I recognize that I'm late to this party, but I just finished the first book in The Hunger Games trilogy and I am obsessed. Like maybe more than Harry Potter obsessed. I also finished the Millenium trilogy by Stieg Larsson and was irreversibly hooked on those. My life now seems empty and soulless, because no other books compare to these... can't wait for the movies, can't wait to read the other two Hunger Games books. I recommend these books more highly than any other books I've ever read, and I read a LOT.

Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen

I realized that it's been a hell of a long time since there were actual female heroines who kicked ass and did not work as part of a team with a guy, or play second fiddle. These girls are the main characters. They are brave. And intimidatingly smart. And not afraid of hard work, risk, or sacrifice. Just saying, it's nice to have some girls to try and emulate in real life, even if I don't have a bow and arrow.

Levi Weaver

I could have drawn this!

It's A Bird! It's A Plane!

Look, I'm a superhero! Hahaha.

Mischief Managed

Cried throughout the final Harry Potter movie. The seventh book is great... you learn so much more about the characters and everything ties together perfectly. Especially adore the Snape/Lily Potter storyline because I'm a romantic sap. Thanks for growing up with me, Harry. To quote LT: I've had the time of my life, fighting dragons with you. <3

Fresh From the Oven

I know it's too hot to bake, but that doesn't stop my craving for baked goods. And wearing aprons. At some point I need to make these red velvet brownies with white chocolate buttercream. They look divine.

Photo via Smells Like Home

I'm also a recent fan of blueberry pie, which, with a scoop of crème fraîche sorbet, is the perfect dessert for summer.

Photo via Style Me Pretty

Thoughts for Summer

and

Bumper Stickers

I used to love these on Facebook!

Lightness of Being

Lately I've been thinking about how full life is of things that are both good and bad. One thing that really helps me is to read quotes from others, whether they're famous or not. It helps to feel you're not the first person to have the experience.

Wedding Fever

Super excited for my cousin's wedding in May, but for the next two days I shall allow myself to become giddy over these two, the future king and queen of England. THE ONLY ATTRACTIVE ROYALS EVER. I heart them. Kate is currently at the top of my list of girl crushes.

SO ADORABLE.

Wanderlust

It's been a while! Life has been full of wonderful new things. This is always my favorite time of year - time passes at lightning speed as school wraps up, projects culminate in epic proportions, and every weekend is booked with end-of-year festivities. It's a busy, exciting time, and experiencing it my first year out of school, it feels bittersweet but still full of AWESOME. Starting in May I'll be traveling a lot:

 

 

 

 

Boston, for my cousin's wedding, Memorial Day weekend

Italy for a vacation with my family in August

Ann Arbor, to drop my little brother off at college!

 In the meantime, I'm in a whirlwind of starting the move-to-San-Francisco process, continuing to wake up way too early for work, and driving up north a lot to visit my favorites.

Mind of Man

I would like to take this time to introduce you all to my favorite blogger, John DeVore, who writes a glorious column called Mind of Man for thefrisky.com. Because of him, I make ridiculous faces at work while trying to silently contain my shaking laughter. I love all his columns. My absolute favorite is How Guys Say “I Love You” (Without Actually Saying, “I Love You”), but JDV most recently wrote a response to all the articles that have recently hit the web, including Tracy McMillan's scathing Why You're Not Married, the Village Voice's Plight of the Single Lady, and the WSJ's Where Have All the Good Men Gone? I personally find this topic, and all these articles, fascinating. However, all the accusations flying around have gotten everyone into a tizzy, and JDV's sane response is a breath of fresh air. I am reposting it here for your reading pleasure. And definitely check out Mind of Man whether you are a guy or a girl; you won't regret it. I can't endorse him enough.

Mind of Man: Why You're Not Married, by John DeVore

The reason you’re not married yet is because I don’t really care why you’re not married and no one else does, either. Seriously, nobody cares. You shouldn’t care. Marriage isn’t a tiara. It’s not a ribbon to cut or one of those big novelty lottery checks. You don’t “deserve” a husband. You’re not Veruca Salt. You should be happy with whatever life gives you, because the only thing you truly “deserve” is a grave, although there just aren’t enough funeral pyres in these modern times. But I don’t want you to freak out. If you’re not married, or single, or unhappy, then life is working out as it should. No one has a right to happiness. As Americans, we only have a right to the pursuit of happiness. This explains why we love cars so much. The road trip is more important than the tourist trap. Enjoy the view. Roll down the window.

Life is not a Carnival Cruise production of “Beauty and the Beast.” Your prince might never come. But that’s okay. When one door closes, a trapdoor opens under your feet. You’re not married because that’s not where you are in the story of your life right now. Take a moment to breathe. Put your feet up. Eat one of those tiny cups of chocolate pudding that, according to television commercials, stop time. Wherever you are in life, really, that’s where you’re supposed to be. That’s not some hippie jive talk. That is the truth. If everybody’s life unfolded according to their precious and predictable little plans, then the world would be plagued with millions of billionaire rock star-celebrity chef-novelists flying around in golden helicopters.

Life is not a linear series of events that you control. It’s not A, B, C; it’s more like A, W, 5. Life is winging it. Improvising. Navigating by the stars and sailing in the general direction of the shore, knowing well between here and there is an ocean of krakens, sirens and that madman Captain Nemo. Opportunity knocks only once, debt collectors knock and knock and knock. Then there is love. Love is an opportunity that whispers at your doorstep, but most people don’t hear it, because they’re too busy talking about themselves loudly. Talking about why they’re not married, why they’re so unhappy, why life is so unfair.

I haven’t written a column in a few weeks because I’m mysterious. But apparently during those weeks, everybody’s become an a**hole. A moralizing, finger-wagging, self-absorbed a**hole and I have half a mind to pull the internet over and give it a stern talking to. Here’s what I’ve learned recently. Men are a stinky fraternity of post-adolescent, “pre-adult” knuckleheads who watch too much porn and just can’t settle down because beer pong is too much damn fun! I’ve also learned that women who aren’t married are wang-hungry harridans wailing like the betrayed women of Greek drama, wronged by man and Zeus.

Then there was some piece I won’t dignify with a link [I will.—Editor] that was, like, about how women should blame themselves for their plight. That’s a good start! But taking responsibility for your happiness and your sorrow isn’t the same thing as self-loathing and that article seemed to do nothing but inspire an already self-pitying demographic to self-flagellate. Have these articles made you feel small? Unloved? Lonely? Stop reading them. Look, I have made a fancy hobo’s living exploiting gender fears. So believe me when I tell you that online relationship hacks are just like patriotic xenophobes. Everything is the fault of “the other.” It’s cheap provincialism masquerading as sophistication. Any bitter little monkey-troll can write an essay. I should know. I am an expert.

There are so many essays out there about why dating sucks. These essays are so angry and sad and honestly, anger causes wrinkles and sadness promotes donut abuse. Let me play some catchup. Where are the good men? Same place they’ve always been. There are two types of people in the world. Those melancholy few who take care of business and then there’s everyone else. This is the way it has always been. There are those men and women who own their good decisions and bad decisions and then a vast stupid mob who moo and cluck and turn the blame game into blood sport. But let me address the mob first. You’re unhappy because no one likes to feel like they’re a line item on someone’s life plan list. A “relationship” is not a prize. Not a noun. A relationship is a verb. If you want a relationship, start by being a human being and try to relate to another human being. It’s basically a fulltime job. There is no plan. Love finds you, and either your listening or you’re not. This is an immutable fact of nature. The mob, the web, your fears and selfish ambitions are nothing but noise. Turn down the volume. Put your ear to the door. The heart has such a small voice, but it says such wonderful things.

Chill out, big mama. “But John, its different because you’re a maaaaan!” Whatever. You are where you’re supposed to be. I mean, the world is full of unhappily married people, and terrible mothers and absent fathers. If you’re not married or dating, then so be it. It might not be where you want to be. Your plan might not be working out the way you thought it would. But the payoff is pretty good, I think. At least your life is interesting. I don’t believe in fate. I believe in atoning for your transgressions. I believe in not being a dick to other people. I believe in courage, which is the act of stuffing your fear in a basket, balancing it on your head like a Sherpa, and trudging up an impossibly tall mountain that disappears into the clouds. Many of the articles I’ve read recently accuse men of being children, and also women of being children. It’s too bad we can’t all actually be children – sharing toys, playing nice, building couch pillow forts. At least children live in the moment, their only life plan being making the most of a snow day.

I have broken hearts and had my own heart flayed, speared and studded with dynamite. In the words of some of my esteemed colleagues [Hugs!—Editor], I am an emotional cripple. But I’d rather be an emotional cripple than an emotional vampire. I can be cranky. I am damaged goods. One of my button eyes is missing, my fur is matted and I’m stuffed with gravel.  I have a needle and thread. I mend and make amends. My parents had a lovely marriage. My mother fought for my dad until the day he died and hours before that happened, he fought to spend every minute he could with her. I don’t feel the need to try and top them. They were a lucky couple who grew up together, and then continued to grow together. As a kid, I saw their playful stolen kisses. I heard my dad sing Patsy Cline songs to her at night in their bedroom. When they had arguments, I saw them both retreat and return with forgiveness in their eyes. Good job, mom and dad. But I’m not married yet. I might never get married. No matter what happens, I hope it’s interesting.

Grad School?

If you really want something, and really work hard, and take advantage of opportunities, and never give up, you will find a way.

Jane Goodall

Ruffles and Aviators

If you've caught me between jobs and hung out with me lately, you may have noticed I've been wearing a lot of ruffles. I decided that I heart ruffles. They're charming without going the saccharine floral route, and they make me not look like a robot at the office. But I especially like to pair them with my aviator sunglasses (which, by the way, everyone looks good in). Why? Because people can't decide if I'm sweet or badass. The answer is: both. And I'm not talking about girly purple-tinted aviators... I'm talking about the original, opaque, you-can't-tell-if-I'm-checking-you-out kind.

kind of in love with this outfit...

Sorting Laundry

I read this poem in high school and still really like it.

Folding clothes,

I think of folding you
into my life.

Our king-sized sheets
like tablecloths
for the banquets of giants,

pillowcases, despite so many
washings, seems still
holding our dreams.

Towels patterned orange and green,
flowered pink and lavender,
gaudy, bought on sale,

reserved, we said, for the beach,
refusing, even after years,
to bleach into respectability.

So many shirts and skirts and pants
recycling week after week, head over heels
recapitulating themselves.

All those wrinkles
To be smoothed, or else
ignored; they're in style.

Myriad uncoupled socks
which went paired into the foam
like those creatures in the ark.

And what's shrunk
is tough to discard
even for Goodwill.

In pockets, surprises:
forgotten matches,
lost screws clinking the drain;

well-washed dollars, legal tender
for all debts public and private,
intact despite agitation;

and, gleaming in the maelstrom,
one bright dime,
broken necklace of good gold

you brought from Kuwait,
the strangely tailored shirt
left by a former lover…

If you were to leave me,
if I were to fold
only my own clothes,

the convexes and concaves
of my blouses, panties, stockings, bras
turned upon themselves,

a mountain of unsorted wash
could not fill
the empty side of the bed.

Elisavietta Ritchie

Body Language

I want Bella Dishell's job - she's a body language expert and analyzes celebrity photos for Cosmo. I guess I've started thinking like her, because as soon as I saw this photo I knew it was a big bucket of fail.

Let's focus on one thing at a time.

1. A-Rod is totally absorbed in himself; if you photoshop Cameron out of the picture, he could be walking alone.

2. He's looking away from her and his hips are pointing away, signaling annoyance at her clinginess.

3. Look how she's hanging onto him! As if he'll run away if she lets go (hint: he will.)

4. She looks stressed.

5. His hand is in his pocket - closed off. He could easily hold his drink in his other hand and hold her hand, but doesn't want to.

6. She's walking slightly behind him, like he's leaving her and she's trying to catch up.

They're shopping for a house together, but I give them less than a year.

Time Capsule

Reading:
The Art of Racing in the Rain, by Garth Stein. Told from the point of view of a dog, this book made me love the world and everything around me. It made me appreciative of being human, if that makes sense. Not because the dog's life is terrible, but because the dog's perspective of our world is one of wonder and awe.


Listening to:
1. Dirty Talk/Club Can't Handle Me Remix - The Metamorphosis
This song. I am obsessed with it. So danceable that it makes you get up out of bed and dance around in your pajamas (this may or may not have actually happened). I also love it for its message: don't apologize for being sexy.


2. Save Your Heart - Remady feat. Manu-L
Okay, this is straight-up house techno. Which is fine. But I also really like the guy's voice (just scratchy enough) and the lyrics (you got me going crazy can't you see, that I was made for you and you for me)! Also makes me dance no matter what I'm doing when it comes on.


3. Teenage Dream - Katy Perry
We've all heard this one a thousand times, but I have just now fallen for it even harder. Combination of being able to relate it to my life, epic chorus, ability to run to it, the fact that it actually achieves what it sets out to do (make you remember what it's like to be head over heels) and beat. Just BEAT.


Wearing:
Here's a revelation: men's skinny jeans don't have any stretch in them, thereby working magic on your legs/derriere. I got some Levi's Skinny Authentics today and I'm hooked. They're also made of better denim than most girls' jeans, so they'll last longer and I can wear them in to that deliciously soft state I love.

Swooning

I really like to swoon. In fact, swoon is one of my favorite words. So when I came across an article in Men's Health entitled 41 Ways to Make A Woman Swoon, I had to check it out. Some of them are better than others, and some of them aren't really true (uh, 12, 13, 14, 21). Some are a matter of preference (25). But most of them are pretty good. Here are my favorites.

Ask her to dance.
On windy days, brush wayward strands of hair from her eyes and mouth.
Put your arm around her when you introduce her to your friends and family.
Send her something in the mail. Anything. :)
Hug her when she gets jealous. Hug her hard.
Keep her favorite cereal on hand.

Being a Ballerina

Two things recently that made my life a little more awesome. The first: a 4-mile run around Lake Chabot in San Leandro... this is a picture taken in sunny weather, but when I went it was foggy and cold. Kind of made it even more ethereal and beautiful.

Second, yesterday I finally saw Black Swan, and let's just say I had very strong reactions to it. I understand all the hype now and I predict it will win best picture.

The Great Outdoors

If the weather made it more feasible, I would live outdoors. I can lounge around and watch TV and bake brownies with the best of them, but what if you could do all that... and still be outside? I imagine it would look something like this.

Personally I'd make the appliances blend in a little more, but otherwise, perfect.

Mezzanine

This is what my midnight looked like on New Year's Eve... I'm somewhere in there :)

photo via Calibree Photography

Sorry, Katy

I love Katy Perry. She's cute as a button, funny, and not afraid to be in love. That said, I have to share this with you because it's so unbelievable... the wonders of makeup.

Serif

As a journalism gal, an editor, a font junkie, and a tote bag aficionado, this is the most delightful thing I have ever seen (this week).

via DesignCrush

The Best Dessert Ever

Last Sunday I was lucky enough to eat the croissant bread pudding with Mexican chocolate ice cream at Bocanova, a tapas restaurant at Jack London Square in Oakland. It was the most delicious dessert I've ever had. I am actually at a loss for words when I try to describe it... which never happens. So I'll show you a picture.

Jack London Square is also really pretty; there were boats in the harbor decorated with Christmas lights!