Monday, August 4, 2008
New Denim Addiction
It has been a long time since I got psyched up about denim- and with the LA summer weather and my love affair with mini dresses, I might throw on jeans a mere once or twice a month. I tried the skinny jean thing-never with flats, mind you...but I always end up sticking to a boot cut or a slight flare, or as of late, a slightly wider leg. Really, the attitude toward denim has kinda been 'anything goes' for a long time now-surely because nobody knew where to go with them after they'd run the gamut of shapes. They cycled from low rise to high, and from flared to skinny and then back to a wide leg - not to mention the various washes and embellishments. Really, I've been 'over' all of them for a while now- in fact the last pair of pants I bought were wool/viscose/spandex sailor pants by LAMB with buttons on the front. BUT, if baby can rid herself of some of her 'back', she'll be stoked to rock the new brand "Current Elliot". It is the first to get my blood boiling in a long time. Mind you, we'll be wearing these loose and slouchy as shown-not fitted the way they're being displayed at certain e-tailers- but regardless, I'm psyched at the prospect of kicking my dress habit.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Laptop Viruses and Printed Lit
Sooo, I have a virus – of the digital variety. It has overtaken my laptop and despite Pablos best efforts it seems irreparable. Heed my warning, porn on the web = bad and the cyber component will NOT protect you from STDs… of the digital classification… if you don't use protection… like Norton anti-virus…which I didn't. I'm kidding, I don't surf porn…most of the time... and I strongly support the use of protection… of the latex variety… and the software variety – to be clear. Anyway, Pablo is an absolutely incredible friend and the extent to which he watches out for me and takes care of me never ceases to amaze me. My appreciation cannot sufficiently be expressed.
As much as I'm missing my normal nightly reading material consisting mostly of fashion blogs and such, I have to admit I've gotten a LOT of legitimate reading done in the past week. Some was garbage and purely for entertainment value (as should be expected), but some was quality and a part of me doesn't even want my laptop back. My reading this week (thus far) has consisted of the following:
Chelsea Handler – "Are you there, Vodka? It's me, Chelsea"
Malcolm Gladwell – Blink: The Power of Thinking without Thinking
Anais Nin - Delta of Venus
Charles Baudelaire – The Flowers of Evil
My reviews are as follows (I'll keep this brief and you can inquire further if interested):
Handler's "Are you there, Vodka? It's me, Chelsea" had a couple of amazingly funny chapters that made me laugh out loud while simultaneously sending me spiraling into a depression because they made me miss my ridiculous girlfriends on the east coast…and my father. It has been at least 3 years since I read Handler's last book, "My Horizontal Life", and I can't remember enough about it to choose a favorite- but I'll say that if you liked her last book, this one follows the same formula. I've since mailed the book to Loren – the most appropriate beneficiary I can think of. As a whole, I wasn't in love with the book - Augusten Burroughs is SO much better when it comes to this guilty pleasure of a genre.
Gladwell's "Blink" was good. It was essentially about first impressions and how you often subconsciously know things before your brain has officially 'recognized' them. That was a VERY general summation, but it's all you're gettin'. My one complaint is that the book could've basically been a quarter of the length.
Anais Nin was…different. I can absolutely appreciate it, although it's not a genre that I'd typically feel compelled to read. For those who don't already know, it's basically erotic lit. First published in 1969 (how perfect is that?), it is a collection of short stories that has remained controversial ever since. It's like porn with very little time wasted on story line (yay), yet simultaneously dense with visual imagery and somehow just enough back-story. It took me a couple of stories to get used to the fact that the author doesn't shy away from anatomical references and terminology that makes me cringe, however, I was soon thereafter desensitized. Judging from Amazon's reviews, people either love it or hate it and are repulsed. I wouldn't say I loved it, but I liked it. The only other thing I've ever read that even came close to this was a referral from Barbie, "The Sexual Life of Catherine M." – and at least this was more sensually written and poetic… if you don't mind being barraged with the "p" word (which I, personally, have never gotten used to).
I'd been dying to read more poetry for a long time and the fact that I was finally getting around to Baudelaire (who has been sitting on my shelf for 6 months now) excited me. In the end, I bookmarked a few favorites, but as a whole didn't love it- but I must confess that was mostly due to the subject matter. For the most part, I didn't relate to a lot of it so it was un-moving, although beautifully written.
In addition to seeking out the newest Augusten book, I'll be researching more poetry for my next read. I'll keep you all posted, and since I've got travel arrangements approaching and will need some new reading material, feel free to make some recommendations.
As much as I'm missing my normal nightly reading material consisting mostly of fashion blogs and such, I have to admit I've gotten a LOT of legitimate reading done in the past week. Some was garbage and purely for entertainment value (as should be expected), but some was quality and a part of me doesn't even want my laptop back. My reading this week (thus far) has consisted of the following:
Chelsea Handler – "Are you there, Vodka? It's me, Chelsea"
Malcolm Gladwell – Blink: The Power of Thinking without Thinking
Anais Nin - Delta of Venus
Charles Baudelaire – The Flowers of Evil
My reviews are as follows (I'll keep this brief and you can inquire further if interested):
Handler's "Are you there, Vodka? It's me, Chelsea" had a couple of amazingly funny chapters that made me laugh out loud while simultaneously sending me spiraling into a depression because they made me miss my ridiculous girlfriends on the east coast…and my father. It has been at least 3 years since I read Handler's last book, "My Horizontal Life", and I can't remember enough about it to choose a favorite- but I'll say that if you liked her last book, this one follows the same formula. I've since mailed the book to Loren – the most appropriate beneficiary I can think of. As a whole, I wasn't in love with the book - Augusten Burroughs is SO much better when it comes to this guilty pleasure of a genre.
Gladwell's "Blink" was good. It was essentially about first impressions and how you often subconsciously know things before your brain has officially 'recognized' them. That was a VERY general summation, but it's all you're gettin'. My one complaint is that the book could've basically been a quarter of the length.
Anais Nin was…different. I can absolutely appreciate it, although it's not a genre that I'd typically feel compelled to read. For those who don't already know, it's basically erotic lit. First published in 1969 (how perfect is that?), it is a collection of short stories that has remained controversial ever since. It's like porn with very little time wasted on story line (yay), yet simultaneously dense with visual imagery and somehow just enough back-story. It took me a couple of stories to get used to the fact that the author doesn't shy away from anatomical references and terminology that makes me cringe, however, I was soon thereafter desensitized. Judging from Amazon's reviews, people either love it or hate it and are repulsed. I wouldn't say I loved it, but I liked it. The only other thing I've ever read that even came close to this was a referral from Barbie, "The Sexual Life of Catherine M." – and at least this was more sensually written and poetic… if you don't mind being barraged with the "p" word (which I, personally, have never gotten used to).
I'd been dying to read more poetry for a long time and the fact that I was finally getting around to Baudelaire (who has been sitting on my shelf for 6 months now) excited me. In the end, I bookmarked a few favorites, but as a whole didn't love it- but I must confess that was mostly due to the subject matter. For the most part, I didn't relate to a lot of it so it was un-moving, although beautifully written.
In addition to seeking out the newest Augusten book, I'll be researching more poetry for my next read. I'll keep you all posted, and since I've got travel arrangements approaching and will need some new reading material, feel free to make some recommendations.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Work Perks
Today while pulling PR samples from the stockroom, I fell in serious lust with this dress. It was always one of my favorite Rory Beca dresses, but not until seeing it in this particular fabric and color did I HAVE to own it. It's the most over-the-top shade of barbie pink you've ever seen-complete with sparkling lurex threads throughout (therefore, it's not very 'me'). Who knows when I'll actually wear this... but I simply love that it now inhabits my closet. Yay for job perks that feed my guilty pleasure.
**Update: I have never worn this, it's simply not my style- despite the enormous amount of love I have for it. It has existed in my closet only to be borrowed by girlfriends. Therefore, it's fate is awaiting on the oh-so-glorious ebay.**
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Gluteus, Keyword: Maximus
Yesterday morning at 5:40 my cell alarm promptly reminded me that my trainer would be eagerly awaiting my arrival at the gym down the street in just 20 minutes. My first reaction was obviously “shit”. I hadn’t set 4 alarms at 5 minute increments and there was no cheating this wake-up call. I got up - miraculously I become amply more responsible when I’ve got an obligation to someone else- I know, I’m such a good person.
As I mindlessly dressed myself, digging through drawers for matching socks, I realized that the following sentence was cycling through my head on repeat like on one of those light boards that advertises an ATM or cigarettes: “This will be one of the worst hours of your life, and then it will be over…This will be one of the worst hours of your life, and then it will be over”. This was a fair assumption give the fact that my last session (just 3 days prior) with the very same trainer was without question the most painful I’d ever experienced (that says a lot, I’ve had 3 trainers in LA). This brings me to the subject of training styles...
My current trainer (let’s call him ‘3’) teaches kickboxing and is built and lean. He’s also like a robot, methodical and committed…and I quickly determined him ‘not smart’. On the first day that I met him, he tried to tell me that lemons are chock full of protein. I know what you’re thinking: “Why would you enlist him as your trainer if he doesn’t even know the categories of food that supply protein?”. Well, his body suggested he knows what he’s doing -and I don’t need his dietary advice, I’ll just break it anyway. If I was good about the whole ‘diet’ concept, I wouldn’t need the gym in the first place- believe me.
Despite his obvious mental prowess, 3 beats the shit out of me- there’s no down-time between exercises, there’s a lot of what he calls ‘metabolism stimulating’ activities, he ALWAYS overestimates my strength and abilities - and he pushes me relentlessly:
3: “1 minute and 30 seconds to go….”
Me: “ugggh. I Caaaaan’t.”
…2 minutes later….
3: “1 minute and 11 seconds to go…” *as he checks his watch*
Me: “You said that 5 minutes ago”.
3: “45 seconds to go”
I guarantee he can’t tell time and that the watch-checking is for effect.
As for his handling of me, he either wouldn’t dream of giving positive reinforcement, or he simply doesn’t think I deserve it – training with him consists of me feeling like a) a whiner, b) weak, and c) a failure. This dynamic, although the polar opposite of anything I’ve experienced with my previous trainers, happens to be just fine with me. He’s constantly lessening the weight that he’d initially handed me as I routinely max out at 4 reps-and I happen to think it’s funny. Every time he passes me a weight, my brain goes “nope”. But, I humor him. He’s also a big fan of responding to my “I can’t do anymore” with “12 more” or “1 minute, 10 seconds” as if the words I just spoke bore absolutely no meaning.
As he looks over his list of exercises in search of my next punishment, I do my 800 1/2th sit-up…and I stop and rest, having noticed his inattention. He looks up without the slightest hint of amusement and replies “Did I say stop?”. Ruthless. Nevertheless, my ass has never hurt so badly in my entire life, so he’s doing something right. As for the exercises he makes me do…well, there are some that I love and will retain for future use, and then there are the others - as I awkwardly attempt a sit-up in the weirdest position I’ve ever pretzeled myself into and on the most bizarre machine you’ve imagined, I can’t help but blurt out “there are better ways of accomplishing this same exercise- I know, I’ve done them”. 3 definitely makes me do an array of things that I despise because they’re more physically awkward than productive and basically, there’s absolutely nothing FUN about working with him. But, to be frank - I’d like to see what my ass looks like after the three week mark. Also, because he’s got more of a total-body approach to our workouts than my previous trainers, he’s providing me with some new things to add to my existing routine which is heavily based on isolating muscles.
So, check back for status updates and further brilliant dietary insights from my own personal Dr. Atkins. Just remember, “If it was easy to look good, everyone would- why do you think so few people go to the gym…blah blah blah, statsisticstatisticstatistic (probably made up)” ~ 3.
As I mindlessly dressed myself, digging through drawers for matching socks, I realized that the following sentence was cycling through my head on repeat like on one of those light boards that advertises an ATM or cigarettes: “This will be one of the worst hours of your life, and then it will be over…This will be one of the worst hours of your life, and then it will be over”. This was a fair assumption give the fact that my last session (just 3 days prior) with the very same trainer was without question the most painful I’d ever experienced (that says a lot, I’ve had 3 trainers in LA). This brings me to the subject of training styles...
My current trainer (let’s call him ‘3’) teaches kickboxing and is built and lean. He’s also like a robot, methodical and committed…and I quickly determined him ‘not smart’. On the first day that I met him, he tried to tell me that lemons are chock full of protein. I know what you’re thinking: “Why would you enlist him as your trainer if he doesn’t even know the categories of food that supply protein?”. Well, his body suggested he knows what he’s doing -and I don’t need his dietary advice, I’ll just break it anyway. If I was good about the whole ‘diet’ concept, I wouldn’t need the gym in the first place- believe me.
Despite his obvious mental prowess, 3 beats the shit out of me- there’s no down-time between exercises, there’s a lot of what he calls ‘metabolism stimulating’ activities, he ALWAYS overestimates my strength and abilities - and he pushes me relentlessly:
3: “1 minute and 30 seconds to go….”
Me: “ugggh. I Caaaaan’t.”
…2 minutes later….
3: “1 minute and 11 seconds to go…” *as he checks his watch*
Me: “You said that 5 minutes ago”.
3: “45 seconds to go”
I guarantee he can’t tell time and that the watch-checking is for effect.
As for his handling of me, he either wouldn’t dream of giving positive reinforcement, or he simply doesn’t think I deserve it – training with him consists of me feeling like a) a whiner, b) weak, and c) a failure. This dynamic, although the polar opposite of anything I’ve experienced with my previous trainers, happens to be just fine with me. He’s constantly lessening the weight that he’d initially handed me as I routinely max out at 4 reps-and I happen to think it’s funny. Every time he passes me a weight, my brain goes “nope”. But, I humor him. He’s also a big fan of responding to my “I can’t do anymore” with “12 more” or “1 minute, 10 seconds” as if the words I just spoke bore absolutely no meaning.
As he looks over his list of exercises in search of my next punishment, I do my 800 1/2th sit-up…and I stop and rest, having noticed his inattention. He looks up without the slightest hint of amusement and replies “Did I say stop?”. Ruthless. Nevertheless, my ass has never hurt so badly in my entire life, so he’s doing something right. As for the exercises he makes me do…well, there are some that I love and will retain for future use, and then there are the others - as I awkwardly attempt a sit-up in the weirdest position I’ve ever pretzeled myself into and on the most bizarre machine you’ve imagined, I can’t help but blurt out “there are better ways of accomplishing this same exercise- I know, I’ve done them”. 3 definitely makes me do an array of things that I despise because they’re more physically awkward than productive and basically, there’s absolutely nothing FUN about working with him. But, to be frank - I’d like to see what my ass looks like after the three week mark. Also, because he’s got more of a total-body approach to our workouts than my previous trainers, he’s providing me with some new things to add to my existing routine which is heavily based on isolating muscles.
So, check back for status updates and further brilliant dietary insights from my own personal Dr. Atkins. Just remember, “If it was easy to look good, everyone would- why do you think so few people go to the gym…blah blah blah, statsisticstatisticstatistic (probably made up)” ~ 3.
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