sprung

spring. Finally!

This may have been the lamest, stupidest winter in recent history but I'm still glad it's over because there are absolutely things I enjoy more than wool, gloves, tissues and boots. 

Easy, oven-free dinners like sandwich night - (almost always from Fairway) honey maple turkey on Portuguese rolls with cole slaw (because that kicks mustard's ass every time) and a (corn or pasta or whatever) salad.

A colorful break from the possibly chic but definitely depressing black and gray manicures to pastels and corals. 

I'm loving Essie's corals (which is weird because despite a deep adoration for orange hues I've never been a coral enthusiast) from the left; Pink-a-Boo, Cute as a Button, Boathouse (which I'm wearing - above) and Coral Canyon.  

My coffee addiction goes from burning hot to iced cold. I'm way too much of a Goldilock-control freak to let others make my coffee (I've tried but Dunkin' is way too watery, Starbuck's is too burnt, the bodega is hot coffee poured over ice - are you fucking kidding me?!) so I brew it and ice it myself. Toss in a little dark chocolate Hershey's and some milk and it turns out I make the most amazing "ombre" iced coffee if I do taste so myself. I've also managed to make enough so that I now have a stash at home and a stash at work -  sometimes, I'm frighteningly easily to please. 

no, I couldn't find a crappier picture 

Most of the year I adore my giant Marc Jacobs oceanliner bag. It's a neutral, go-with-everything brown leather behemoth, full of pockets that accommodates everything, and it should because it weighs as much as a trailer. By mid-March I'm usually dying to shed that 50 pound beast and start carrying my orange Goyard or anything made of nylon. Earlier this year I found this super-lightweight Cole Haan crossbody bag (the Alexis bag) and though I'm slightly scared of the light color, I've been using this bag for 2 weeks and I love it. It's got pockets for my phone, keys and metrocard, it looks neat and it leaves my hands/arms free, I know this is going to be my go to bag for a while (*update* - did I spill coffee on my bag as soon as I posted this? Of course I did. Here's an awesome feature, a little hot water on a rag and the bag was back to pristine in under 5 minutes. Miraclebag!). 


My most recent haircut was at a new salon near my apartment. While I didn't particularly love the cut I did love the products they used on my hair. I've seen Moroccan Oil stuff for sale a lot lately but I assumed it was meant for thicker, coarser Moroccan-like hair. Of no good use on my 16 strands hair. Wrong. Not only does everything Moroccan Oil smell phenomenal but it's completely lightweight enough to use on very fine hair and it's great at beating humidity. Whatever your hair-type is, at least give this a sniff, if you don't love the smell you probably eat puppies. 

But truly, my favorite part of this time of year? Lounging on the grass, with a good book, staring out at this:

 

Happy spring everyone!

such a baby for an old lady

I lied. My birthday has been awesome so far (I mean really, look at the card Heather MADE me!) and I have a sneaking suspicion it's only going to get better. And then it'll be over. Whew.


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who's a debbie downer?

I'm so ill prepared for a big fat birthday. I'm just not feeling it. It feels nothing like a celebration and completely like a "Calling Before the Yardstick" ceremony where I bear witness to my lack of accomplishment. 

Married? No.
Children? No. 
Published? No. 
Well surely then I've made great strides in my professional growth and am experiencing an enriching and lucrative career. Ha! No.
A well appointed home that I've poured my non-marital, empty-wombed self into decorating? To the contrary, I think the Con-Ed construction going on right outside my building actually resulted in a tiny mouse skittering across my living room floor last night. At least that's what my dog's sudden crazed behavior indicated. Ah metropolitan living, so high end and pristine. Enviable, really. You're feeling envy reading this, aren't you? 

There are of course a few consolations; Jennifer Aniston for example. She is very hot, very rich and famously single, more so even than me (my mom would violently disagree). If she's having a hard time finding someone to ring and ding her what hope can there possibly be for me? That's right, none (insert awkward ha ha  here). Also, no children means I very very rarely get peed or puked on. Sure, last Friday I was hanging out with my 5 year old friend and sure she leaned in to give me a good-bye kiss and of course in reality blew a raspberry in my mouth, but as a non-mom that just happens a lot less than you'd think it would. Sometimes I spend entire Saturdays or Sunday in pajamas. 

Then again, this could all change. Especially considering I recently learned that David Duchovny lives 9 blocks away from me and I have 4 days off coming. I think I'll get myself a Mulder for my birthday. Or this: