Today's Obsession: Book Buddy

Locked away in a storage facility in Poway, Calif. is one of my most prized possessions: my books. For a personal finance class, I once had to calculate my net worth and the majority of it was on my bookshelves. I estimated that the dozen-or-so full boxes of books that now reside in the storage unit amounted to some $1800+.

One of those boxes, marked “Personal Classics” contains some of my favorite books of all time. Thinking about them now is like flipping through old scrapbooks. I’m nostalgic for those books, for the thrill of finding another treasure worthy of that box. In it are my worn and torn copies of White Oleander, The Handmaid’s Tale and Brave New World (I have a thing for dystopic novels). Since then, I’ve found a select handful of books that I love as much. Whenever I move, I’m sure to pack my copy of Eat, Pray, Love (for inspiration) and Let the Great World Spin (a recent find).

Anyway, I was looking through Bas Bleu’s site and found this plush little accessory. What with being on co-op, I’ve been reading a lot more lately. And I’ve become re-familiarized with that slight ache in my shoulders from holding up a heavy book. This pillow is both practical and pretty (and probably an easy DIY project). Perfect for a book nerd like myself. Obsessed.

Bas Bleu – Book Buddy: Navy Faux Suede, $34

Investing in the Good Stuff

It was drizzling today on the way to work in that awkward I’m-not-going-to-really-rain-just-sprinkle-enough-to-soak-your-shoes-and-make-you-cold way.

Growing up, I used to love the rain. But that was San Diego, where it rains five days a year. Rain meant that our house wouldn’t spontaneously combust. It was reason to celebrate.

That isn’t to say that I dislike rain now. But when I was younger, rain was something I was able to enjoy. From my living room, curled up by the fire with hot cocoa and a book. I wasn’t actually living in it. In fact, I didn’t even own a pair of rain boots until my senior year, when I bought myself a pair because I knew I’d be moving to a colder climate.

Anyway, walking to work today, my shoes did get wet, as did my hair. But I wasn’t necessarily cold. And when I evaluated my outfit, I realized the quality (and lack thereof) of my clothes.

Kmart flats, black drugstore tights, discount pencil skirt, H&M sweater… all of the basics of my outfit were well under $20. But my coat was a wool, black pea coat—the warmest I could possibly find in California, and a very expensive Christmas present from the Christmas before college. On my hands was a pair of insulated leather gloves that I bought myself when I was fifteen and hid in the back of my dresser because they were too pretty to wear.

The gloves probably cost something like $40—quite an investment for a 15-year-old, especially one that lives in a climate where I can’t wear gloves. And by asking for a quality coat for Christmas, I was sacrificing the opportunity to get something else. Something less useful, but more immediately satisfying.

I’m as big a fan of Forever 21 as the next frugalista who pays for her own clothes. Forever is good for cheap clothes—by any definition. But the most beloved, prized pieces in my closet are the ones I invested in: my leather jacket that I bought in Florence, my (very worn) cowboy boots that I bought as a graduation gift, my Marc Jacobs PanAm bag from my 16th birthday, my Marc Jacobs Daisy perfume that I bought somewhere over the Atlantic, my pearls, my sorority pin.

I don’t know if I care about them because they cost me, or if I was willing to pay more because I cared so much. But I have noticed that in many ways, you get what you pay for with clothes. And it makes a lot of sense to invest in the pieces that will last a lifetime and still be just as beautiful. That longevity is what makes those clothes classic.

Jackie O had "classic" down to a T.

Today's Obsession: woof (duh)

In the spirit of all things woof-tastic, here’s one of the shirts I designed. Designing was more for fun and I don’t really anticipate buying anything until all our branding is finished and secure (any graphic designers out there?), but I like this baby because it works for the magazine and is totally something that my dad and his boys need to get for their next testosterone-ridden reunion.

Check out all the designs and stuff here, but I don’t really recommend buying anything yet. I know we’re all excited, folks, but it’s still not a done deal. Nonetheless, you can bet I’ll be scouring etsy for the next lifetime looking for things that are woof-related along with all my periodic search for Paris and Kappa goodies. Woof is my new obsession. Ahhhhh so stoked. I’m a total nerd. Whatever. OBSESSED (But for realsies).

Cafe Press woofMagazine Mens Baseball Jersey, $20

I'ma Let the Dogs Out

Ladies and gents and four-legged friends…

The cat (or dog) is out of the bag. I just sent out an email to various writers, friends and colleagues announcing my new magazine. A while back, I mentioned that I had an idea about what to name it, and I’ve moved forward with that idea. The email is out, the positions are open and I’m set to have a Skype meeting with Northeastern’s Student Involvement Board a week from tomorrow.

I’ve already been working closely with someone on SIB and have cranked out a constitution and bylaws. But then I went ahead and made T-shirts… because that’s how I roll. So, my fellow huskies, be sure to keep your eyes peeled this fall (fingers crossed!) for the first edition of…

Here you go, Daddy. I may have written Ma a poem, but I named a magazine after you (so stop complaining). For those of you readers who aren’t my dad (there are more? Say what??), “woof” has some very deep roots in my family. So yes, we NU students are huskies and huskies woof. But the four letter word (one of the only ones I like) has much more meaning.

When my dad was growing up, he and his buddies used to call “wolf” to find one another. If it sounds silly, give it up; you know you had secret handshakes and the like. Anyway, somehow “wolf” morphed into woof. Even now, nearly half a decade later, it still stuck.

And it’s contagious. As those boys grew up and moved all over the state, woof spread from the core group to siblings, spouses and families. Somewhere in the morphing mix of things, it also became my dad’s nickname. Hence the shout out.

When I am walking around a public place—say, the grocery store—and need to find my mom (I always get lost in the cookie aisle), I’ll “woof,” rather than say “Mom.” After all, in Suburbia like PQ, there are tons of “Moms” in the grocery store.

I woof. And she woofs back. It’s inbred, instinctual. Even 3,000 miles from home, sometimes I hear something like “woof” and have to consciously stop myself from shouting. My childhood friends (especially Bo) are used to woof, and sometimes even use it to get my attention. But people here think I’m a little cuckoo. And there you have it: the real reasoning behind the name.

This magazine is quickly becoming my baby. But I’m thrilled to get the ball rolling. I have my mother’s habit of throwing myself into new and exciting adventures and this is no different. Stomach ulcers are all the rage this season, no?

So yes. Woof Magazine. Out this fall (**insert girly scream**).

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Today's Obsession: Etc.

My boss here at MC is super awesome and she's recently been doing a little redecorating, finally getting settled and making her desk her own. I picked up a bunch of cute brocade stuff from The Containter Store for her, and last week she showed me this adorable mug she got from etsy that has a girl reading and says "lost in the pages." Tres, tres chic, non?

I didn't want the exact same thing but I did go on another etsy rampage and found this baby. I can't tell if I want to drink out of it, put pens in it, or just look at it. It makes me happy :) The store owner (loveartworks) has others that have letters instead, but the symbols communicate something more. It looks like what brain barf feels like. As the item description says, this mug is %^$&/#@^*%?!>/&#*%:$:&@^>#$%@?!&*!!"*. Translation? Awesome. Obsessed.

ETCETERA Incredible Textured Stamped and Glazed Mug, $42

For the Love of Food

I once messed up a box of Kraft Mac N Cheese. I am an absolutely hopeless cause when it comes to working in the kitchen. But that isn't to say I don't have a passion for it. If and when I devote the time (money) and effort to it, I thoroughly enjoy cooking. And when I can't find the time to cook, I still enjoy eating just as much. I've been spending the past couple of minutes looking through Cook's Country, some cute little foodie magazine I'd never heard of but that has amazing pictures and makes my mouth water.

It got me thinking about food, though. I walk home down Ninth Avenue and pass dozens of delicious-smelling, boutique-y, small, eclectic restaurants. Yes there are some that look like they've contracted some sort of STD, but the gems shine comparatively brighter compared to the ethnic grunge of Hell's Kitchen. I'm hungry all the time. And I'd be lying if I said I haven't Googled the best Italian restaurants or picked out where I'm making my parents take me when they come to visit. But this isn't the first time food (or the lack thereof) has defined me. For as long as I can remember, it's played an active and constant role in my life. So I decided to compile some little anecdotes about how food brought me to the three most incredible women I've ever met.

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Mom: My mom's rule when it came to grocery shopping was that whichever child went got to pick out something they wanted. For my brothers, that meant taquitos and ice cream, but for me it meant something weird. I remember the first time my mom and I found celeriac. And persimmons. She was always experimental and fun about food. Even when we didn't know what something was, we would buy it and then look up how to cook it in The New Joy of Cooking when we got home. Celeriac was middle of the road, but oftentimes our science experiments yielded incredible results. I remember I once picked out Chinese long beans because I thought they looked like some sort of monster hair. But when we brought them home and learned how incredible they are sauteed, we were in legume heaven. Mouthgasmic bliss, right there. The first time I went vegetarian my junior year of high school, my mom did it with me as our Lenten sacrifice. And though I craved Carls Jr. jalapeno burgers almost as much as chocolate, we made it fun. I remember looking through vegetarian recipes and trying to make eggplants sound appealing. We made these ricotta cheese Italian roll-up things once and I swear the prep work took two hours. But they ended up being amazing.

My mom didn't make me lunches until I was in high school (a little behind the curve, but I didn't mind). But her lunches were incredible. As my brother's high school girlfriend said, our lunches were "circus lunches," full of different food groups and color. When I was vegetarian, she catered to that, making falafel and packing hummus and celery. With the exception of the ever-present bag of carrots (which I always gave away), I loved every single lunch I had.

Last summer, when I went to Europe with my mom, we had an absolute blast. I've never met someone so experimental and inspiring. We would never order the same thing, always order wine and dessert, and we challenged ourselves to try things we might otherwise write off--like fresh anchovies and sardines in northern Italy or mussels and frites in Belgium. In Sienna, we stumbled around the tiny walled city for probably an hour looking for some Rick Steves-approved place before finally "settling" for a whole in the wall close to our hotel. When we saw the menu was entirely in Italian, we just signed to the waitress/owner that we'd have whatever she wanted to make. And we ended up with a porridge-y soup, some stewed meat, and spinacci (even I could read that). As we found out later, the meat was boar, not beef. But I didn't care in the least. I was too busy listening to my stomach purr.

Bo: I wouldn't necessarily call Bo's food choices diverse, but the girl knows what she likes and I have to give her that. Half a hamburger at The Cheesecake Factory, Steak at Jake's, pasta at Sammy's Woodfired Pizza. And Machaca at Rod's. Even if she weren't my best friend, I would love her for sharing Rodrigo's with me. Somehow, that little hole in the wall has seen me through some amazing transitions in my life. So many of my high school ghosts visit the restaurant (can I call it that?) that under any other circumstances, I would avoid it like the plague. But Rodrigo's is one piece of PQ that I will never quite let go of. Rodrigo's is the common stomping ground and it's a place where Bo and I can go and just be us, her and me, the Shis. Of course, it doesn't hurt that the Machaca is the shit. Hot or cold, drowning in salsa and spilling everywhere. Noms.

J: I still remember my first lunch with J. I described it once in conversation... It was awkward because I think we both knew intuitively that we were going to be close. But we had to get all the small talk and details out of the way first. But really. I remember wearing my pledge pin. I remember which corner table in Stetson East. And from then on, I spent almost every single dining hall meal with the girl. Over Colin-the-omelet-master's omelets and those amazing little rolls they have by the pizza stand, we learned the ins and outs of each others lives. We cooked Easter brunch together (or she cooked and I ate WAY too much), we made eclaire cake together (OMG, yum). Last summer I came to visit and we all had the most incredible potluck (shout-out to the "Stinky Salad"). This year, we both had kitchens and we were able to experiment even more. I remember the first time she made me a salad with a fried egg on it. I nearly died. Or making a pumpkin pie a week. Or having steak at her parents' house.

In a show of apology and gratitude to some guy friends who took care of me one best-to-be-forgotten weekend, I made enchiladas in their stunning (albeit disgustingly dirty) kitchen. The next Sunday, she made bolognese. And then one of the guys made chicken parmasean. There in that kitchen, we grew even closer. Whenever she felt inspired to experiment, I reaped the benefits. When I've been sad or upset, there's always been a heaping plate of deliciousness to cheer me up. And I remember one night when she hauled her butt across campus to the news room to bring me some southern corn chowder. I can say without hesitation or any iota of regret that my relationship with J is tied to food, to our shared appreciation for it, to our love for cooking it, for our zeal for eating it. I'm more than excited to share a (much cleaner) kitchen with her in September. The freshman fifteen will be nothing compared to the middler midsection. Bring it on.

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Food is so much more than a life force. It's a bridge connecting me to the people I love. It's a hobby and a skill. It's something I can look forward to. Though my family couldn't always come together and eat dinner (hockey and Scouts and theater and choir kind of mess with the Daniells family calender), we strove to have breakfasts together. And not the cold cereal kind. But omelets and bacon and the good stuff. The kitchen table was, and subsequently always will be, a place of conversation and community. Kind of funny that food can be so simple, but such a binding (and delicious) force. I'm loving it.

Today's Obsession: yarntwisted

I did finally manage to get my hair cut last week and will upload pictures as soon as my phone decides to come out of its coma. To accessorize my new "glorified mom cut" (as I've deemed it), I've been browsing etsy looking at headbands and clips and new fun stuff that I can't afford. Meh.

But, all depressing bank statement references aside, I still enjoy it. A while ago, my friend and sister Dani came into town and was donning a knitted earwarmer/headband thing. Annndd it was pretty snazzy; I ended up stealing it for the entirety of her visit. So when I found a similar one on etsy, I got a lil excited. The etsy designer (yarntwisted) makes the designs from scratch and this one has a huge spiral flower, rather than the typically floppy ones.

It comes in whatever color requested (I tried to specify a favorite and can't. I want to wear the rainbow) and a portion of the proceeds--though she doesn't specify how much--go to charity. She has a bunch of other knitted goodies, too. I'm really liking the cowl scarf thingamabobs. But the earwarmer takes the cake. It's warm for the frigid winds that have been taking Manhattan by storm, but has the flower for a sweet little taste of spring. Obsessed.

Crochet Spiral Flower Headband / Earwarmer, $25

Old Habits Die Hard

I’ve been spending my morning looking up crazy holidays that no one ever celebrates. I love using them as tie-ins for stories and they oftentimes prompt good story ideas, anyway. I know I’m way ahead of the game here, but May 9th is apparently Tear the Tags Off the Mattress Day. I’m loving it.

I never understood why it’s apparently a crime to rip off a piece of fabric. Yet, I’ll admit that I’ve never done it. Anyway, as usual the idea prompted some thoughts annnnd obviously a blog post. I just got thinking… What other useless information do I just listen to and accept as normal even if it isn’t? What habits do I still maintain even though they are no longer relevant?

I’ve had a Word document open on my screen for a bit and compiled a list. In no particular order and just because I want to, here’s a list of all the random habits or silly rules that make no sense to me:

• Look both ways when you cross the street: not as useful when you live on a tiny deserted island with one-way streets.
• I always take the first stair with my right foot. I’ve tried switching it up and just faceplant.
• Knocking on doors: why not kick it?
• The customer is always right: bullllllpucky the customer is NOT always right. I find it hilariously hypocritical that establishments enforce that mentality, yet have signs that say “We maintain the right to refuse service to anyone.” There should be a fine print that reads “but we’ll let you bring in your perfectly fine coffees for free refills even though we know you just go from Starbucks to Starbucks, you lazy bum.”
• Forks: why does the fork go on the left when most people are right-handed and the fork is the most prominently used utensil?
• Cash: for one of my SAT test essays, I argued that we should completely eliminate cash. And I think there’s a case for it. With everything on plastic, we’d save a lot of money we spend manufacturing. And maybe beggars would believe me when I tell them I don’t carry cash (I don’t).
• Say cheese for the camera: say whatttt?
• Picking up the phone: apparently, in 1877, Thomas Edison wrote a letter to the president of the Telegraph Company in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, suggesting that when people answer the phone, they use the word "Hello" instead of the word "Ahoy" suggested by Alexander Graham Bell.
• Ringback tones: I don’t need to know your (lack of) taste in music.
• Labor Day: what exactly are we celebrating, except the death of our right to wear white?

Poem: Home is...

where I can fall asleep looking out and watching those same three familiar red lights flashing not-quite-in-sync.

It’s where it smells like bacon (always).

It’s where I fall asleep on Kelly’s bed because I couldn’t make it the ten more feet to my own.

It’s where I can’t get away with faking a good day because I’ll get a text saying “Coffee. AfterHOURS. Now.”

It’s where my rain jacket still hangs in the closet, even when I’m three states away.

It’s Kelly’s dad’s cookies and Jordan’s chef creations and Laura’s late night wine fests.

It’s photos and laughter and snuggling to sleep with people who will never again be strangers.

It’s where I know how to jiggle the shower faucet for 5 more minutes of hot water.

It’s where I don’t have to use Google maps to get around.

It’s where I can fart out loud, my face turning red from shared bouts of laughter rather than embarrassment.

It’s where I know where the forks go.

It’s where my T card always has just enough money on it to make it from South Station to Mass Ave.

Today's Obsession: Greek Goodies

If I feel so inclined, I might have two obsession posts today... especially given that I didn't do one yesterday. Things just got a little hectic toward the end of day at work (I had to call every store in Manhattan on a rabid search for pom poms. It was ridiculous). But anyway, we shall see. Moving on.

...I think I'm obsessed with cookies. They're just so dam delicious. I think part of the appeal is that they are less messy and hand held. So I can go about my busy life and still eat them without the need for a plate or a fork. That may also be the reason why I love milkshakes, particularly Boloco Nutella milkshakes with a cookie blended in, but I digress.

Facebook's creepy side ads are typically catered to the individual. For example, since I played field hockey and am in a sorority, many of my ads revolve around similar themes. I refuse to believe that the single ads are catered to me, though.

So much digression... Today's obsession are these BakeGreek Greek letter cookie cutters. They continue to show up on my FB sidebar ads and I can't help but love them. Combining my love for my sorority with my love for cookies? And baking? TSM, yes, but delicious. The cutters come in one of three shades and are actually really affordable. I was thinking about getting Kappa and Gamma for Kappatastic sisters, but also thought it'd be fun to get a Rho, so I can make Rhos and Gammas for my fellow Rho Gammas (those are recruitment guides, for all you GDIs!). They like cookies too, right?

The only thing that would make all this even more fantastic would be if I made a Kappa apron. Summer project idea?? Obsessed (and now hungry).

BakeGreek Greek letter cookie cutters in Kappa, Gamma and Rho, $5 each

My Win-Win-Win Deals

I wake up to about a billion emails a day. And by a billion, I mean a dozen. But whatever. Though I delete most of my morning emails, I don't deny their awesomeness. I receive tons of discount emails and when they don't make me feel poor (60% off of a buttload is still 40% of a buttload. I'm broke), they inspire me. And when they are especially appropriate, they can mean some amazing savings. So, in the ever-nerdy fashion, I decided to compile a list of my favorite "spam" emails. In no particular order, they are::

• Groupon – Groupon is a pretty big site. And what I like about it is that there is a specific site for several different cities. I actually get emails for San Diego, Boston and New York and the deals are typically pretty good. They revolve around the concept of "group buying," the idea that when more people buy at a discounted price, everyone benefits. The buyers get a discount, Groupon gets a cut, and the seller gets numerous new customers. Chances are many of them will return, sooo win-win-win situation right thurrr. The deals are for a wide variety of things, too--anything from restaurants to laser hair removal to massages to museums. Today's for San Diego is 40% off of a ride in a biplane. Random, but pretty awesome.
• Lifebooker – My newest discovery. I heard of Lifebooker when I was reading the comments sections of various salons, looking for reviews and discounts. When you sign up for a Lifebooker account (which is free, btw), you can then have acces to AMAZING discounts on hair services, nails, waxing, laser stuff, dental visits... It's all very cosmetic. No restaurants or biplanes here. You can select the service you want and then find a salon/price that suits your needs. For my upcoming hair appointment, I scheduled it right on the site. The time slots when the discounts are available are a little weird (no weekends, or lunch hours for my salon), but I got highlights, haircut and blowdry all for less than $70. Typically, that kind of service would cost around $150. Win, no? From what I can tell, the site only caters to New York and LA, but it's probably a safe bet to assume that they will soon be expanding.
• Daily Candy – I haven't quite settled how I feel about Daily Candy. They send out several different types of emails... There's Swirl, which functions like Rue La La on a smaller scale, there are feature emails that focus on a specific venue or event; and then there are the Weekend Guides. The Weekend Guides feature several different things going on in the city for the weekend, anything from a cool restaurant to a gallery opening to a street fair. I get Daily Candy for Boston and New York, and they have other major cities, as well. What I love best about Daily Candy is the sarcastic tone, though. Even if I delete it immediately after, their emails always start my day off right.
• Rue La La – My beloved Jenny shared this site with me. I think it has the same group buying mentality as Groupon, but it's solely focused on fashion-obsessors. It's like Groupon for fashion, but there's a catch: The site is super exclusive. In fact, you can't even gain access unless someone invites you. Intense, right? But lucky for you, you know me. Let me know and I can hook you up. Deals can be as much as 90% off and cover clothing, accessories, home goods, vacation deals, shoes (!)... They send out emails every day at 11 and on Sundays, they have a 6 p.m. Style-a-thon. Sales last for about two days, typically, but the good stuff sells out FAST. I haven't ever actually bought anything through Rue La La, because even things that are knocked off can still be expensive. But I occasionally check it. And you can bet that the day Michael Kors' accessories are on there, I will have my Visa ready.
• Beyond the Rack – I suspect that Rue La La and Beyond the Rack are owned and operated by the same people. But don't quote me on that. Beyond the rack functions in the same way... Emails at 11 and Sundays at 6, deals on designer goodies. The only difference is that Beyond the Rack typically has more stuff. There are more "boutiques," as they call them, than the ones they advertise, so if you know how to navigate the site, it's easy to find undercover gems. Might be exclusive? I legitimately don't know.
• New York Deal of the Day – These deals are run by New York Daily News, but I know that other cities have similar geographically relevant deals. San Diego's Union-Tribune has them and they basically function as a smaller Groupon. But what makes these better is that they are typically "gems," lesser-known, tucked away places in the city just looking for a little press and lovin'.
• Thrillist – I think my Thrillist is stuck on guys (it greets me with "Hello, Handsome"), but I do like Thrillist a lot. Their emails sometimes have deals or discounts or sales, but most of the time, they're just chocked full of ideas. Places to go in the city, restaurants, etc. I currently get the emails for both Boston and New York, but I know that other major cities are on there, too.
• DealFind – DealFind is a wannabe Groupon. They have multiple cities that they cover, but they might not have daily emails. What's nice about DealFind is that throughout the day, they occasionally send updates and decrease the price even more. Today's, for example, started at 50% off and is now at 64%... pretty sweet.
• Huffington Post – Huffington Post is pretty much my guilty indulgence. They have gossip, style, news, and articles from some great writers (including some that work at Marie Claire!). They don't send out too many emails, but occasionally, they send out a "brief" with a featured story.

Today's Obsession: Dreamcatcher Pendant

I think I've mentioned before the camp I went to this summer with my dad and my little brother. It was empowering an thoroughly enjoyable. The theme of the camp kind of revolved around some Native American imagery and how we, as dedicated individuals, could harness the "warrior" within.

I'd like to think that I took a lot away from the experience. And I did. But retaining it is a little different. Sometimes being 3,000 miles from home and living on my own and being tired all the time can serve as an obstacle to harnessing my inner warrior goddess (stick with me).

But my dad doesn't let me forget. On one of his post-camp business trips to Vancouver (where Native Americans have a strong foothold), he brought back a little something for me. Today, I'm feeling a little nostalgic for home and for a little bit warmer weather. Thus, today's obsession is the necklace my dad gave me.

It goes well with V-necks (always a plus), but it's also a simple reminder to remember and follow my dreams. It's uplifting and empowering. And pretty. Obsessed.

Dreamcatcher Pendant with Bead, $8

A random collection of irrelevant thoughts...

I've been experimenting with a couple of different looks. I just scheduled a hair appointment on Tuesday and I'm literally going to walk into the salon (at 8 a.m. Woof.) and be a human canvas. I'm ready for a change. And a lighter load. My haircut rules:

1. If you cut off more than 8 inches, let me know and I will donate it.
2. It must be able to be put into a ponytail, headband, etc.--So I can get it out of my face.
3. Layers are pretty!

...

There is apparently a mall a block from my work. This is problematic

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Rebecca Black is annoying as hell. I don't get the hype. It's not funny; it's nails on a chalkboard.

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English journalists are so different from American journalists. What happened to your three-tiered cake of reliable expert sources, ladies??

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I need to get old-fashioned newspapers. It's the only way I feel motivated to read a whole story. I legitimately didn't know about the Japan earthquake until three days after it happened.

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Etsy is amazing. But I wish I could click a button that would omit all things knitted or quintessentially Asian from my search results.

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Why do Parisians think that macaroons have nothing to do with coconut? Wrong.

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I am so hungry right now.

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Given the Etsy comment, let me clarify: I don't dislike Asians. Just Hello Kitty.

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I don't know what I would do without the Internet. On a somewhat related note, I need to get a Mac.

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I'm wearing a Bumpit. And stripper heels. I think I'm on the wrong side of the Hudson River for this attire.

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I'm newly obsessed with Amanda Seyfried and Ginnifer Goodwin. Ironically, both happen to be on Big Love, which is my current TV show obsession. You'd think having three moms would make their lives easier, but it doesn't. Probably because two of the moms are more like children themselves.

...

If I were to start a more focused-on-one-topic blog, I think I'd like it to be on photography stuff. You know, once I know what I'm talking about.

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I need to update my Marian-isms.

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I think I know the name of my magazine. But it's a surprise!!

Today's Obsession: Pola(d)roid

So... more photography nerdy-ness, I know. But who doesn't love a Polaroid camera, right? I remember when I first used them for Girl Scout crafts in first grade. They're just as awesome now as they were then. The only problem is that they cost an arm and a leg. But last summer, when I was obsessing over Polaroid pictures, I found this program called Poladroid, which allows you to alter digital pictures. It ages them in a very authentic-looking way and adds the border. You can even watch them develop on your desktop. Nifty, no?

So I've been using the program. And yesterday, I decorated my cubicle with printed out "Poladroids" of some of my favorite pictures. It looks adorable, if I do say so myself (I do). But anyway, today I was looking at some old retro-esque cameras and cameras with funky effects (UrbanOutfitters has a bunch of funktastic cameras. I mean, who doesn't want a Lego camera??).

Anyway, sometime since last summer, Polaroid re-released their classic instant cameras. No more $50 film, no more ridiculously expensive cameras. Same aged, awesome instant development. I'm sooo stoked. I think it goes without saying (but I'll so it anyway) that today's obsession is this camera. Cue the Outkast, prepare your fingers, and get ready to "shake it like a Polaroid picture." Obsessed.

Polaroid 300 Instant Camera, $89, and film, $10 for pack of ten

Check out some sample "Poladroids" and a picture of my cubicle after the jump!

Today's Obsession: iPhone

So there's this boy named Manny. And Manny and I are really good friends. Occasionally, he pisses me off because he won't shut up (he's kind of an attention whore), but we get along relatively well and spend ridiculous amounts of time together. He knows what to say to wake me up and I feel naked without him. And for those who aren't familiar with my habit for naming inanimate objects, Manny is my white(black)berry, my personal assistant, my sole connection to the outside world.

Manny is getting tired though. And as of late, I've been considering making the slow transition from Microsoft/HP/Blackberry to Mac/iPhone/iPad. It's a slow transition, but today helped me to solidify my decision. Funny... but when you google your sorority and "iPhone," lots of fun goodies come up.

Today's obsession is this iPhone case. I like it because it's pretttyyy. But really. I'm kind of a klutz, so my phone need always wear protection. But this pretty number provides protection and a bit of pizazz. All that with a nice Kappatastic bow on top. While blue would be an appropriate choice, for some reason, the obnoxious pink just caught my eye. There's no chance of losing Manny II when he practically glows in the dark, right? Obsessed.

Coveroo "Kappa Kappa Gamma – letters" Sorority Design Plate in magenta, $40

Poem: To the Woman on the Subway...

I was sitting on my own
with half an empty seat beside me.
And he walked on with his guitar
and started to berate me.

"Why you smiling, little girl,"
(I'd politely smiled and moved right)
But then his hateful words continued
as a drunk man picked a pointless fight

With a white girl minding all my own.
I discreetly looked the other way
Trying to avoid eye contact
But hearing all he had to say.

"White man raped the black women,"
he said between cap-fulls of booze,
and told me how my parents failed me
and how my god will always lose.

He spat about the "homosexuals,"
like they were a different breed.
But the hypocrisy was lost on him
And so he did proceed.

All this while, I couldn't help
But laugh and smile and smirk.
Sticks and stones, my sorry friend.
you're just some drunken jerk.

And while my eyes danced about,
I caught her gaze across the train,
And we shared a private moment then
Before he started in again.

She watched me for a while
And I just kept very still,
I think it pissed him off that I
wouldn't let him have his fill.

She pulled herself up to her feet
And the car came to a halt.
But before she left to rejoin her life,
she intervened in my assault.

"Are you okay," she mouthed,
So I smiled and gave her a nod.
She smiled back and took her leave,
And he got off at the next stop.

So to the woman in my car
who stopped to share a smile:
Thanks for noting my struggle
And making it all less hostile.

Funny how an alliance grows:
Once a stranger, now a friend.
The world would be so beautiful
if people followed your simple trend.

Thank you for the smile
And for making sure that I was fine.
I didn't catch your name,
but I won't forget how you were kind.

Today's Obsession: Yoga

Speaking of love... So there's this girl. And she is the epitome of klass (with a K). She's confident and beautiful and an incredible writer. She's also a journalist and has a recent obsession with photography. She loves traveling and is a romantic like yours truly. She's also my sister; it's a match made in Kappatastic heaven.

Laura is one of those people that I could lose touch with for years, run into her on the street and spend three hours talking. She inspires me and I look up to her so much. She just has this resiliency about her, this inner strength and you can tell she totally kicks ass. Anyway, a recent obsession of hers is yoga and she's been blogging about it. Apparently some people have the discipline to keep their blogs on a single focus (I fail).

Her blog is great though. It makes me want to do yoga again, I always loved how yoga offers an opportunity to stop and smell the roses. Or incense or whatever. It's a breather. And I love me some cardio, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't enjoy spending some Oms on this mat in one of the Hudson river parks. That's my zen place in the city, and if you close your eyes and place your hands over your ears, you can almost block out all the traffic noise. Obsessed.

Jade Harmony Environmentally Friendly Yoga Mat – Professional (I like it in Olive Green), $59

On the Subject of Love...

My dad tells this story... When he first found out that my mom was pregnant with me, he was scared. He loved my older brother so much and was worried that he wouldn't be able to love me the same way. But when I came out in all my perfect glory (Ha! I was blue), he says that he felt like that scene in "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," when the Grinch's heart grows and grows. He says he physically felt his heart expand. He didn't have to sacrifice any of the love for my brother in order to make room for me. But his capacity for love just grew.

Bo and I were talking recently about love. When she first started falling in love with P, she says it taught her that she had never really loved K (her high school boyfriend). And now that she and P have broken up, she is afraid that she won't be able to find that same connection with someone else.

Bo and I disagree on the subject of love. As far as my high school boyfriend goes, I have loved others more since, but to me that doesn't discredit what I had with him. The way I see it, I loved him as much as I knew how at the time. And breaking up with him and moving on doesn't mean I don't still love him. I do, but in a drastically different way. My love for my high school boyfriend is something along the lines of thank-you-so-much-for-showing-me-kindness-and-love-and-being-there-for-me-when-I-needed-someone.

Bo is a one-at-a-time kind of gal, but I love love so much that I drown myself in it, in all different kinds of it. I have numerous best friends... and while I realize calling them all "best" kind of kills the point of the word, they are all best for something. One for grumbling about my past and laughing about PQ losers, one for going out and dancing all night, one for hanging out in PJ's and cooking, one for crying to.

And that's how I am with guys, too, I suppose. And, by extension, love. There's my "half boyfriend," who gives me diversity of opinion and conversation and lots of books, but without any of the emotional attachment or stress that comes with a relationship. There's the hopelessly impossible guy that I can't let go of who knows all my secrets because he's the only one who ever bothered to ask. There's the best friend turned crush turned sadly distant memory who calls me things like "pretentious." And then there are the guys I date whom, in a way, I love too.

You know how the eskimos have a bajillion different words for snow? Well I think that there should be more words for love. Four letters can't possibly begin to encompass the meaning of such a complex term. There are so many different genres: family love, love of friends, love-hate complexity, romantic love, romantic lust, love for inanimate objects... how can loving my mascara be the same as loving my mother? Or a boyfriend?

And why should there be a limit? I'm definitely not advocating polyamorous relationships, but maybe I am advocating polyamory... It's a stretch, but still. Why limit ourselves or our capabilities? Why not allow ourselves to love those we once loved, but learn to love again and in new, more profound ways?

I wrote this song once, my senior year of high school about my high school boyfriend, post-break up:

"This brand new love,
Like nothing I've felt before,
Knowing with all the crap that we've been through,
I'd still always be there for you.
And yes, I know it's not the same
And I don't still think of you that way..."

I think it still holds true.

###

Today's Obsession: The Cravory

I'm so behind... But today was FAR better than the rest of this week. And I attribute that largely to the fact that my day got off to an awesome start. I went running this morning and then showered, got ready while watching an episode of "Big Love" and left the house with my breakfast of champions! My mom's been pushing for me to get peanut butter so I have some more protein. So I smeared a spoonful on my chocolate dutch cookies (which I always keep on hand) and walked out. My own delicious creation. Win!

I just love cookies. I can't help it. I'm not really a cake person (I like three: cheesecake, Red Velvet and German chocolate) and I joke that at my wedding people won't be eating cake. They'll be eating pie and cookies (noms). So today's obsession (besides using parentheses) is this company called The Cravory. My mama sends me cookies from them and they are amazing. There's currently ONE pack left that I'm saving for this silly boy who tasted them and became equally infatuated. One might argue he's only seeing me for my cookies... Nahhh.

The Cravory has a ton of awesome flavors. And they switch them up all the time. You can also make your own flavors for a little bit more. My current Cravory craving are the Mexican Hot Chocolate babies. Chocolate and spicy? Sign me up. The site tells you a little description, the ingredients annndd suggested pairings to fully appreciate the yummy Cravory goodness. I should note that I didn't initially realize how much they cost, but can assure you that they are worth every overpriced penny. And calorie. Obsessed.

Cravory Mexican Hot Chocolate cookies, $24 per dozen

Happy Lent

My apologies for a day with no post. How dare I?! Truth be told, work was insane in the membrane yesterday and I was stuck transcribing a 2 1/2 hour interview with Kate Hudson and Ginnifer Goodwin, both set to star in the upcoming release "Something Borrowed." I guess I'll be reading that book soon, because I've been meaning to for a while. But currently I'm a little too preoccupied with Under the Banner of Heaven.

Lent began yesterday. I don't particularly subscribe to any organized religion (I prefer to describe myself as "religiously ambiguous"), but I do like Lent for much of the same reasons I like New Years. It's a time to reevaluate the important things and start anew.

Personally, however, I don't like all the negativity and morose-ness associated with making "sacrifices" for the religious holiday. Maybe that's a Catholic thing, but I prefer to make "improvements," to use the combined motivation of the holiday and of spring to catapult me into better health and a better mood. Thus, my Lenten goals are the following:

• Run and/or work out 4x a week.
• Take my vitamins (I bought some extras yesterday!)
• Do 5 Bucket List items before Easter.
• Get my hair done (Actually, the original list says, "Get my hurrr did.")
• Go to (a) church. Any one, pick one.

I've already kept up on the running. Yesterday and today, I've woken up early and run along the Hudson River. The piers there are just stunning and I can't help but feel good when I'm near the water. Here's to a happy Lent and to spring!! I saw flowers popping through today on my way to work. SO EXCITED. 

Also, as a totally irrelevant sidenote, I painted my nails last night. My toes are pink to be festive, but I painted my nails some O.P.I. color called Somoan sands. Annnd I'm really loving it. Not daily obsession-worthy, but its the same tone as my skin. The color just fades right in and looks really muted.

Happy 100th Annual International Women's Day!!

Wake-Up and Help Stop Violence Toward Women Worldwide
Marie Claire Editors' Daily Dish Blog
March 8, 2011
By Marian Daniells

What better way to celebrate International Women's Day today than by changing the fate of a woman on the other side of the world?

The International Rescue Committee (IRC) is kicking off a three-month campaign today called WAKE UP, which aims to educate people about the violence and injustice toward women worldwide — and provide opportunities to make a difference. Those opportunities include sending letters to key policy makers about a range of human-rights issues, and donating your time or money. Just go to rescue.org/WAKE UP to find out more.

On the site, you can also watch videos from IRC volunteers recounting their own personal wake-up calls — the specific events that inspired them to take action. A great example: a woman named Iman Alaqrabawi in Jordan, who works with the Jordan River Foundation (in partnership with the IRC) to provide support to victims of domestic violence. When she heard that distributing pamphlets with domestic violence hotlines puts women at more risk from their abusers, she teamed up with the foundation to distribute makeup bags instead — with the hotlines stitched secretly inside. (Donate $50 or more and you can receive a makeup bag yourself, inspired by the bags in Jordan.) Got a wake-up call of your own to share? You can do that on the site as well.


Check out the full post here.

Surprise :)

Exclusive Q&A: Sarah Bower’s Sins of the House of Borgia
Marie Claire Editors' Daily Dish Blog
March 8, 2011
By Marian Daniells

The Borgias were one of Renaissance Italy’s most famously corrupt families, a sultry mix between the Tudors and the Sopranos. The family history, littered with outlandish tales of murder and debauchery, has an addictive quality to it, and Showtime is set to premier The Borgias, a new series on the crime family, April 3. Against a backdrop of scandal and lust, British author Sarah Bower paints the story of Violante, a converted Jew who joins the court of Duchess Lucrezia Borgia, in her new book Sins of the House of Borgia (Sourcebooks Landmark, March 8).

We spoke with Bower about her longtime fascination with the notorious crime family, the Showtime premiere, and her own Borgia family crush.

Check out the full post here.

Today's Obsession: Kappa Kappa Gamma

Happy International Panhellenic Badge Day! In the spirit of NPC pride, I wore my amazingly wonderful Kappa badge to work today. And my pearls. The only problem is... when I got to work, the badge wasn't there. Somewhere between West 34th and 57th lies one of my most prized possessions. And I'm heartbroken. Yes, technically the thing is replaceable but it's both expensive and has a boatload of sentimental value.

Since I can't rep it on my clothes, I'll rep it on my blog. Today's obsession is my sorority pin (and by extension all sorority pins). I love mine especially because it has both pearls (my birthstone) and sapphires (my mom's birthstone). It's a little piece of metal that represents a whole lot more. I love my little pin with the retardedly messed up clasp, wherever it is. It's utterly Kappatastic. Obsessed.

Kappa Kappa Gamma Alternating Pearls and Sapphires Badge**, $PRICELESS

**There's no link or price because non-Kappas can't buy them anyway. But check out the Herff Jones Kappa store--which has lots of awesome jewelry and accessories--here.

Poem: Pieces

When we disagree, it's like two steel trains,
hurling toward each other at hundreds of miles per hour,
bracing for the collision,
preparing for arguments with evidence and persuasion.

And when we do collide, it's a never ending rush,
of emotion and perfect syntax.

When we fight, it's all business and momentum.
Never relent, never give up.
She taught me that.
Come to think of it, she'd make a great lawyer.

She'd make a great anything, actually. Especially a writer.
I'm guessing her brain barf is far more snarky than mine,
I'm a novice, she's a master.

Whenever she's around, there's no writer's block.
We just sit and talk, laugh, expand, explore.
She's so full of ideas and turns of phrase and transitions.

I'd like to think that I've stored away little pieces of her,
her stoicism, her sarcasm,
her super sly winks from across the room.
Her eyes, her laugh, her taste for adventure.

Of course, there's also her obsessive planning,
the frazzled freak outs, the curtness.
And both our noses can pop.

Growing up, it was always my dad that I turned to,
about boy problems and general frustrations.
Meltdowns and freak outs.

Once, when I was crying after a breakup,
she looked at me, dead-faced and said,
"Why are you crying."
But she was always strong like that.

At the time, I thought I needed hugs,
and copious amounts of chocolate.
But really, I needed her perspective. I survived.

She passed along to me her love of wine,
And her recipe for the world's best margaritas,
her stubborness, her determination.
Her my-way-or-the-highway-ness.

During high school, we shared weeknights on the couch,
an hour with Lorelei and Rory and Jess.
And Wheat Thins and cream cheese.

I spent school mornings in the car with my dad,
angstily belting out Taylor Swift.
But those nights were for her.

She knows my favorite foods and my taste in books,
the way my cheeks get pink after a third glass.
She laughs at the fact that I constantly hear music,
as if some ADHD-ridden DJ is spinning in my head.

We share a love for good shoes and toe rings,
and for our perfect little black lab
(who she not-so-secretly loves more than me).

At one point in the Netherlands, we stopped for a bit
and spent an hour sitting crosslegged
on the floor of some Dutch bookstore.
It was one of the simplest joys of our European adventure.

She's wild, tamed by marriage and domesticity.
But wild nonetheless.
I would hope that she passed that along to me, too.

I love you, Ma.

###

Today's Obsession: Boston Gear

I recently discovered the key to not getting creeped on while walking to work. In a sea of Yankees and Mets fans, wearing a Red Sox has quite the silencing effect. And while it isn't necessarily recommended, it did prove a successful maneuver. I just had to be sure that I didn't get jumped. And having that kind of heightened awareness is exhausting, to say the least.

I'm not a huge Sox fan. I'd say I'm more a Boston fan. I support and love the city, but I'm just kind of indifferent about its sports. Except for hockey. It's on my Bucket List to see a Bruins game this year and I want want want to go :) I love hockey. It's in my blood, it's in my past.

So today's obsession is this beanie. While the Bruins could have picked a sexier set of team colors, I'm still happy to rep the black and yellow (*cue song*). It's cute, warm, and serves as a handy creeper repellent. Who needs pepper spray when you've got Bruins gear? Obsessed.

Reebok Boston Bruins Women's Cuffed Knit Hat with Pom, $15

Marianisms

I've decided to start this new section where I define various terms that, in turn, define me. There are numerous words that frequent my life and my writing that aren't listed in the Merriam Webster dictionary. But they are listed in the Marian Daniells dictionary. They are Marianisms. Stay tuned :)

Today's Obsession: Sea Turtles

In 2008, my parents and my brother and I took a vacation to Cancun at an all-inclusive resort. We watched the Olympics from our room and spent our free time hiking Mayan pyramids, biking, swimming in cenotes, drinking virgin strawberry daiquiris by the pool and doing AP Language summer assignments. Ah, the good ol' days...

That vacation was transformative for me, though. The resort we stayed at collected sea turtle eggs on the beach and protected them from predators until they hatch, which they did the week we were there. I got to see newborn sea turtle hatchlings, and that night we helped release them into the water (they release them at night because the dark helps them have an additional advantage).

Since then, I've been fascinated by sea turtles. They are simple and beautiful and are dying off at an alarmingly fast rate. One of my bucket list items this year was to go to Costa Rica, which probably won't happen for financial reasons. But I wanted to go there and spent a week or two volunteering at a turtle conservation program.

Today's obsession is this makeup palette from Chantecaille that is made from sea turtle shells. Just kidding. Not funny (but I'm still smirking). No, but Chantecaille is known for supporting marine wildlife, and 5% of the proceeds goes to the WIDECAST Organization, which helps save sea turtles in North, South and Central America and in the Caribbean. Pretty snazzy, no? Obsessed.

 

Chantecaille Sea Turtle Palette, $79

The Shis Outgrow Tiny PQ

Once upon a time, I wrote a post titled "Toto, We're Not in PQ Anymore..." about my best friend and our shared childhood and how somewhere between then and now, we grew up.

I talk to Bo on a multiple-times-daily basis. She is my rock and I her's... We'd probably fall apart if we were to be seperated from each other, but somehow by leaning on one another, we form some sort of Tee-pee-esque structure and stay afloat.

Bo recently moved to Georgia, as I've mentioned before. And having her on the same time schedule has been angelic. We talk all the time: Morning text, lunch chats, late-night vent sessions.

--

Recently, one of the girls Bo and I grew up with had a baby boy with her husband. Bo and I have been talking about it, trying to decide if the recent birth made us feel old or young.

Honestly, it just makes me feel different. I'm 3,000 miles from home working my butt off in some cubicle. The notion of getting married or having kids sounds so far away, it's almost comical.

From there, the conversation transitioned to other people we went to high school with, particularly the losers we dated. Of all the people I dated or "talked to" or crushed on in high school, none left the state. A couple are in community college, a couple are in UCs or similar schools, and more than one have been through rehab. It's not like I'm attracted to bad boys (goodness, I'm not). But my school just didn't have the finest pickings.

--

San Diego does not qualify by any means as a small town. But my little corner of the city (Rancho Penasquitos--shortened to PQ) functions very much like some tiny little podunk town. There are two high schools with enough of a rivalry to create stirs, there is one "town center" with the local hangout (Vons shopping center and Jack-in-the-Box, respectively), there are seasonal carnivals and PTAs.

And for as long as I can remember, I've wanted to get out, to see the world, to try something new. I always felt like my dreams (whatever they were that particular week) were too big for my little neighborhood.

In one of our daily ongoing conversations via various social media and technological networks, Bo wrote "Why do I feel that you and I are the only people from that town growing and changing? Obviously we were born for leaving..." and I got thinking.


Which came first? Was I born for leaving, therefore I grew and changed because I had to adapt in a new world? Or did I grow and change and therefore had to leave to find something bigger and better?

--

I'm a city girl now, through and through. I actually looked at apartments with lawns the other day (obviously in other towns) and was turned off by how much space there was between apartments. What personality is there in thick walls? In matching furniture and manicured lawns? How am I supposed to entertain myself at night without being able to eavesdrop on my neighbors late night phone sex?

Whichever came first, Bo, we outgrew our tiny little town. Now, all we gotta do is take on the world. The world is a big place, even if my apartment is 8'x10'. Shi shi shii!!!

###

Today's Obsession: The LWD

Have you heard? White is the new black. Ironic that while I'm writing that I'm wearing black, black, and more black. But I think it's about time that we women banish the archaic style rules of only wearing white between Memorial Day and Labor Day. White for three months out of the year? How practical is that?

With the help of my beloved Google, I found a TIME article (I know... I'm so hypocritical) about the potential origins for the rule. Check it out here.

Honestly, I think that Labor Day is a pretty decent cut-off date for wearing anything overly spring-y, but there's no way I'm waiting until June to don some summery clothes. It's sunny. I want color.

Lilly Pulitzer recently released her new line of LWDs--a sassy twist on the LBD--and they are all looking very stylish. One TSM posts (so many acronyms...) joked that the collection was made for sorority rituals. Ironic, but potentially true. Lilly knows how to play to her target audience. My favorite of her pieces is this little number, which I think kind of looks like someone hemmed a wedding dress.

You know the best part about the LWD?? It pairs exceptionally well with a dark Bahamas tan :) Obsessed.

 

Lilly Pulitzer Reeve Dress Lace, $368

Dior too classy for "Fash-holes"

So I'm happy to admit that I know very little about the fashion world, but that doesn't mean I live under a rock, either. The New York Times, Huffington Post, ELLE, MC, and just about every other news source have been reporting the recent scandal of John Galliano's anti-Semitic remarks.

Galliano, by the way, is Parisian fashion house Christian Dior's chief designer. And from the looks of various Google photos, the guy is very eccentric and flamboyant.

According to the NYT article, a video was released Monday that showed Galliano screaming anti-Semitic remarks at various cafe patrons in Paris. Galliano reportedly slurred out "I love Hitler" and various unmentionables somewhere along the lines of "Your forefathers would be dead...gassed."

He even suggested that two women be gassed. E! News labeled him a "Fash-hole." I like.

When the footage was released by Bristish tabloid The Sun (catch the video here), Galliano was arrested. In France, it turns out, racist remarks or actions are illegal.

According to my twitter feed (yay 21st century news sources), he was put on some sort of probation for a while. But Dior has now severed their ties.

--

I recently blogged (and then deleted my post) about some other racist comments. I guess I'm just confused by the whole damn thing. I. Don't. Get. It. I don't get how people can look at an entire race or culture or religion and make such vast sweeping generalizations. I don't get how people can be so small-minded. And I suppose I may be being small-minded for not understanding the pillars on which these elitists stand, but at least I'm not offending anyone with my shortcomings.

Cheers to Dior for taking a stand. If I could afford to support them in ways other than blogging, I would.


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