Smell Ya Later

Off to a convention upstate. Also: I have a rage problem that's quickly getting out of hand.

Toodles!

-----Me

The Question Is Not "Am I Stalking Celebrities?" But "Are Celebrities Stalking Me?"

Attention, Ted Danson and Tobey Maguire:

COOL IT. I SEE YOU ALREADY.

This Hip New Haircut Tells People I'm Cool Way Before I Ever Could*

My new haircut is everything I could ever want in a bulletin advertising my blithely aloof coolness. Before I scored this purposefully casual shag, it would take a few well-chosen, vintage (OBVIOUSLY) pieces from brands like Capezio, Lesportsac, Jordache, and Gucci to tell everyone that I'm a member of the ruling class of young, hip, dirty, overeducated, urban irony-bots charging straight ahead to the nearest performance art open bar with my loose morals dragging behind my pointy-flats. And let's face it: concentrating all of my style indicators in uncomfortable shoes or a strategically-placed wristband risks making the subtle shades of my personality, as manifested by a pitch-perfect ensemble with just the right balance of nondescript basics furtively purchased from the Gap or H & M and appropriately weathered-looking thrift store finds, a little too subtle. Plus, one can only rotate a banana-yellow leather clutch and silver leggings so may times before becoming predictable. Now, my haricut erases any doubt of how cool I am that's left over in the mind of someone who isn't quite digging my acceptable yet suspiciously bland black jeans and t-shirt (both bought at Old Navy. Sshh!). Now that I have my awesome new haircut, the pressure's off the rest of me to pick up the hip slack!

I knew this haircut would change my life when I stepped into the tiny yet posh salon on the Lower East Side. Armed with a few print-outs of models from UrbanOutfitters.com and pages ripped out of Jane magazine, I confidently aimed my proposal for my style revolution at the pierced ears of my "master stylist." Though she may have responded with only a vacant stare, I saw a brief flicker of understanding when I uttered the phrase, "Less People Magazine; more Nylon." From then on, I knew it was pad thai wishes and PBR dreams, and for only $200! Oh, but I won't tell my friends that. They'll hear the "real" story: my friend cut it while we were high and making out in the bathroom at Union Pool. Didn't it turn out awesome!

See you on last Night's Party!

*This post was inspired by an actual nice haircut and my accompanying thought process. Also, I'm not mean.

Safe...FOR NOW

*ALERT*

A google image search of MY OWN NAME revealed that AS OF RIGHT NOW, NO PICTURES OF ME EXIST ON THE INTERNET.


As you were.

I Guess These Are My Saturday Nights Now

Just saying it because it's on right now, but that chandelier sketch with Scarlett Johansson on Saturday Night Live is effing hilarious.

Also, just saw Brick. I disagree with the NY Times. I quite enjoyed it, I must say. Not perfect, but worth seeing. I had a good time even though I sat behind a giant head and overheard perhaps the most ear-bleed annoying conversation in the ticket line. I should have known it'd be bad when I heard the following:

"Im being deliberately obtuse."

Oh...are you!