Pretty And Witty

I love that Tina Fey is on the cover of this month’s issue of Harper’s Bazaar magazine. She looks absolutely gorgeous. Tina is a writer, movie star, political lightning rod, Emmy-winning actress, and budding (if reluctant) feminist icon. She has embodied that all-too-rare brainy/funny/sexy trifecta since she first snarked her way through Saturday Night Live‘s ”Weekend Update.”  I’m currently obsessed with her television brainchild 30 Rock, which depicts what I would basically classify as  my dream job.  Now this woman is a celebrity I’d like to emulate.

You can read the complete Harper’s article about the lovely Ms. Fey right  here.

Photo credits: Alexi Lubomirski via Harper’s Bazaar


Don’t Let The Whispers Slip

After four days of crying at the drop of a hat and just generally being totally tense and grumpy for no one reason in particular, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Or the hands of a massage therapist at Spa Utopia, rather. I booked in for a massage therapy session. How was it, you ask?

One word. Three syllables:


I was finally able to turn my brain off for an hour, while releasing some of the stress and tension that I’d been holding onto like my life depended on it.  The whole experience was exactly what I needed. I almost fell asleep in the eucalyptus steam room afterward, because I was so completely relaxed. Why the hell don’t I do things like this for myself more often? It was worth every penny, let me tell you.

Things are about to get crazy again, so I’m trying to take advantage of my freedom while I have it.  I’m already up to my eyeballs in Fall 2010 samples.

Everything in between.

Floating in the middle
of carrying on,
and new starting points.

It does feel good.
It does scare me.

But I believe in something.

Knowing there is boundless passion
in the veins.
Knowing there is wild excitement
in the mind.
Knowing there is steady focus
in the heart.

Knowing this makes the risk
easier to bear.

New changes will make
new thoughts on old times
dissipate; sleepless nights
will dissolve into dreams.

My So-Called Life


Photo: Virgin Media

I absolutely adore this album. In fact, it has been my soundtrack for this rainy weekend. I know I mentioned the first single when it was released, but  it has to be said that the entire record is just lovely. It has this kind of sweet, classic, romantic feel to it. I’m not sure whether the songs are comforting or enabling to my current  state of emo-ness, but either way, it is what it is. I love the sound of  Pete and Scarlett’s voices together.


Photo: We Heart It

I’m in this kind of weird head space that I can’t quite seem to articulate. I’m still not feeling back to normal after flying home a couple days ago. It’s been all awkward sleeps and crazy dreams. I’m not really here, it seems.

And it’s Sunday night.

“There’s something about Sunday night
that really makes you want to kill yourself.
Especially if you’ve just been totally made a fool of,
by the only person you’ll ever love, and you have a
geometry midterm on Monday, which you still haven’t
studied for because you can’t because Brian Krakow
has your text book and you’re too embarrassed to even
deal with it, and your little sister’s completely finished
with her homework which is just, like, so simple and
mindless a child could do it, and that creepy 60 minutes
watch that sounds like your whole life ticking away….”

Angela Chase

I could do my own version tonight,
but this pretty much just sums it up.
It’s that worry and that 60 minutes watch….

There’s more I want to say, but there are just so many things
reeling around my brain and I can’t concentrate….

Sundays. Why?