bahama mama in my koko kitchen cabana.

After a looong week of catching up on school work, applications and interviews, a pipe connected to my dishwasher burst and flooded my kitchen with over 2 inches of freezing cold water…not exactly the tropical oasis I've been looking for, but it did do a thorough job of cleaning some corners we've been neglecting. About half an hour into the process of bailing water into the sink we came to the realization that we had made absolutely zero progress, and resorted to putting on our swimsuits, sunglasses, and music and basking in the god-sent indoor wave pool. (Luckily we're on the ground floor and have tiling, not woodwork, so catastrophic consequences were looking pretty unlikely.) My roommate and I had just agreed that a kitchen wave pool really complimented our living room roller rink when the basking was inhibited by a floating piece of ham and the realization that the water had spread to the living room. At this point panic re-set back in. After fashioning a dam out of every last towel, bed sheet, and mattress cover, and using pots and pans to scoop up the majority of the water, we finally handed over the reigns to the forces of evaporation and retired with a bottle of wine and a Hugh Grant movie. Unfortunately we had no choice but to disconnect our water during the ordeal and were thus left without running water for the next two and a half days. This may not have been a tragedy if I had showered the day of the flood, or even the day before..but between us, I hadn't, and the plumber was scheduled to fix the problem a matter of hours before my interview today, which was cutting it a little close for my liking. Luckily we were able to turn the water back on this morning, and by the time my interview rolled around I was the cleanest I've ever been and dressed to the nines like a ten year old at a piano concert. Let me just tell you, cleaning your body head to toe using solely hand sanitzing wipes gives you a whole new appreciation for showering. (We immediately regretted basking in the "wave pool" when we discovered we couldn't even take a shower after. Remember the ham?)

Still craving that island oasis..we'll have to see what march vacation has in store for this girl. xxxxx

image of jane mansfield via fashionlane.

baby we were born to run.

Currently feeling extremely restless. The only things in life that should be stationary are thank you cards and operation tables…

I've got to get out of the country, and not for legal reasons this time (kidding).

need summa this.

images via baby is a sinner &&& oracle fox

get your "frik" on.

I'm feeling pretty self conscious about the deadly serious (or seriously deadly?) nature of my posts lately. I guess I have been in a more serious mindset, with the onset of senior spring semester, the sink hole in my bank account, and the realization that I can't afford to be a cocktail waitress who books four flights a month. I definitely lightened things up and burned off some pent up energy (but not calories, as I had a Five Guys burger, fries, AND Jumbo Slice pizza) last night though. The night, or technically early afternoon, began with cards, drinks, and me talking over the football game announcer/force feeding everyone shots abusively early, and ended with me in an elevator with the guys from Afrika Bambaataa wondering where my red puffer jacket and friends were. So basically a pretty standard Sunday night. The events that happened in between are largely illogical, inappropriate and inexplicable. So again nothing really out of the ordinary. Flashbacks are as follows: 1) giving a Ke$ha look alike my phone number and promising to walk her dog today, 2) attempting to steal Bambaatta's hat, then upon confrontation, offering him my watch in exchange and 3) getting chastised for admiring one of his posse's "Jesus pieces" - note to self- look, don't touch! Such good fun; my roommate and I were beckoned out of the crowd by the video camera man who brought us on stage where we danced, had drinks and saw Bambatta spin up close and personally. I don't really have any inclination to watch the video as I've never seen myself dance drunk, and prefer to retain the illusion that I appear somewhat desirable while doing so.

Download Bambaataa- Looking for the Perfect Beat here: http://www.mediafire.com/?g5m9hz11vvy for an old-school, hip-hop, throwback thrillla.

what the WHAT.

Brand line extension can be a no brainer, iconically demonstrated by Arm and Hammer and their diverse product offerings, but Coca Cola's attempt to break into the high-end fashion market is just plain inplausible. Not only is the collection's aesthetic completely uncohesive with the brand story (classic all-American, common man, traditional, etc), the leap from soft beverage king to fashion forerunner just flat out does not make sense. I could understand a brand extension to the food industry…perhaps even to kitchenwares, but heavily-studded gold lamé hot shorts… really? Besides their massive failure in the principles of marketing, the clothing is pretty generally unwearable, and the collection itself has absolutely zero coherence or fidelity to their original concept of launching a fashion and sporting line "designed to connect back with the brand," (FINANCIAL TIMES, 1/21). Seriously, an F to whoever lead this incentive.

Bottom line: I don't think we'll be hearing much "Tell us who you're wearing?" "Coca-cola, actually" on the red carpet this spring.

home is whenever i'm with you.

Taking classes within the interior decorating school is turning out to be a major tease. I'm in a strange place now, knowing that I'll only be in my apartment for another four months. I couldn't bring myself to haul any of the candles, photos etc. I got for my birthday all the way back here from New Hampshire, seeing everything as just another cardboard box to have to pack up in May. I didn't even bring my Shakeweight back (which I was anonymously given for Christmas…cheeky, yet undoubtedly the gift of the year.) I can't wait to settle into someplace with the knowledge that I'll be there longterm…where I can paint the walls, buy furniture that I don't have to assemble myself and can actually nail things to the wall rather than tape! My next move looks like New York, which is very exciting, but there's definitely a part of me that wants to stay in the Boston area. We'll have to see how the job search plays out. The only things I know for certain are I will most definitely have an espresso machine, canopied bed, and plenty of textures, chairs to sink deep into, and of course a fabulously fully-stocked bar. xxxxxx

images via dirty blonde &&& oracle fox.

got sole & i'm super bad.

Oh Jeffrey Campbell shoes. I die. I don't, nor will I ever, own a pair, solely because I wouldn't know how to choose one pair over another... they're pretty much all perfect creations…..
xxxxx

wild wild west.

Images via Oracle Fox &&& Because Im Addicted.

If you do one thing today, download Selah Sue-Raggamuffin. Trust me on this.
http://www.mediafire.com/?dcfzzoadztu

olives and indecision.

Finally back in DC after a weekend of skiing and shocker--more cocktailing. Cross country skiing really took its toll on my thigh muscles, who haven't participated in any vigorous activity since a growth spurt in junior high. Temporarily immobilized, I was unable to participate in such activities as the 17 and under ping pong tournament at the resort, which I had been looking forward to. In fact I had even packed for the trip accordingly, with training bras and cargo pants. This left me no choice but to spend the majority of the time that I would have dedicated to recreation to drinking instead; and thus my newfound adoration of hand-stuffed blue cheese olives was born. Soaked them in vermouth and they make any martini to die for, not to mention the nutritional value they bring to the table. I was more than reluctant to come home to my apartment, primarily because the only alcohol I had to welcome me back was butterscotch schnapps, leftover from the time I made butterbeer for the premiere of the latest Harry Potter movie (Did I just say that?) I had a classic Lifetime movie moment in the airport when I decided I would rather spend the night in Boston with my boyfriend and get on a stand-by flight the next day. I got on the plane. I got off the plane. I then got back on the plane. By this time all the over-head luggage compartments were beyond full, so I was forced to walk up and down the aisles about three more times. Needless to mention they were even talking about me in the air traffic controller tower. (No really, they were, the Jamaican man at the ticket gate told me.)

Vintage Life photos via Rackk and Ruin.

ketchup.

Have been on the move non-stop for the past week. From clay pigeon shooting on the North Shore, to Park Avenue rooftops, to the ski slopes, really the only common denominators have been drinks and hangovers. Spent the past few days back on the vineyard working my way out of the vortex of debt I accrued in new york and attempting to outdrink "My name's Sam and I've been drinking," a 50 something year old wood-worker who became my bar frenemy. I managed to fulfill my lifetime goal of having my picture posted in a bar bathroom, although it was the girl's bathroom, and it wasn't exactly a picture but my school id, which I'm going to have to pay to replace when I get back to school next week. Also when I say "posted" I mean my friend hoisted me up on her shoulders and I smacked it up there myself using electric blue bandaids. Egomaniacal, yet totally worth it. Running off again, next time you hear from me I'll be back in DC. Self love, it ain't no crime. xxxxx