Wednesday, September 16, 2009
by Amanda.
Last week, I had preview tickets to “Bye Bye Birdie” on Broadway. Acquiring these tickets involved some money, some waiting, and a lot of discussion of how well John Stamos has aged.
By the day of the show, though, other plans started to brew. My friend Les from San Diego would be in town that night. I really wanted to see him, because he once proposed marriage to me over the loudspeaker at T.G.I. Friday’s.
We’ve been engaged eight years now. And once he’s ready to deny his authentic self and start being straight, it’s so on.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
by Amanda.
Today’s the first day of school in NYC. Though I only have one close friend still teaching in the city, I was full of anticipation all weekend.
The beginning of the school year doesn’t really affect me, but I brainstormed what I’d wear and planned to go to bed early. As the rush hour trains fill with kids again, it’s a good time to start anew.
Monday, August 31, 2009
by Amanda.
I was recently reminded of those household tips in “Hints from Heloise.” As ridiculous as it seems coming from a woman who can barely fry an egg, I once subscribed to Good Housekeeping. I was 10, I think.
Magazines were how I dreamed about my future as a grown-up with my own house and my own money and my own womanly figure to clothe in smart, mix-and-match separates that flattered my figure.
My mom occasionally bought magazines, which I hoarded in my sister’s room. To this day, I can visualize a Redbook cover from November 1995 and tell you exactly what’s in it. (An interview with Roseanne Barr, for one).
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
by Amanda.
In many cultures, the left hand is considered unclean or sinister. As a left-handed person, I’ve always thought that was pretty badass.
I’m in good company. Most presidents have been southpaws. Many people with stuff hanging up in museums predominantly used their left hands to execute that brilliance. Al Gore, who practically invented the Internet, is a leftie.
You can’t convince me that the left hand is inferior. I couldn’t tie my shoes until I was seven, because I’m gifted. Because I’m left-handed.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
by Amanda.
How do you really feel about my masthead?
Does the picture suggest the disgusting awesomeness that is the NYC subway system? That’s what I was going for.
Personally, I’m over it. I want a graphic that’s gritty, but aesthetic. Something less orange and yellow. Something that would look better on a business card.
Friday, August 7, 2009
by Amanda.
I’ve been remiss in blogging this week.
The good news is that it’s not because I feel depressed and spend my hours thinking I’ll die alone without even a few cats to love me. I’ve just been busy with work and fun activities after work.
Also, I’m still not sleeping well. My attention span is embarrassingly limited. My mind wanders as I read updates on Twitter.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
by Amanda.
As soon as I squeeze my carry-on bag into the overheard compartment nearest me and sit in my aisle seat, there will be a sound.
A loud rushing of air from my toenails to the frizzy hairs at the crown of my head.
Monday, July 20, 2009
by Amanda.
Is there something I absolutely must see or do when I’m in Chicago from Thursday to next Monday? A place to eat and drink? A nice backdrop for some photos? Local haunts that shun tourists?
Please let me know, because listening to Kanye West songs is not enough.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
by Amanda.
I check the blog’s Contact page every now and then to make sure everything’s working.
Today the CAPTCHA was “EXE2″.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
by Amanda.
I found a note on the street last weekend. It must have been included with a Christmas gift - most likely a book - from someone’s very douchey boyfriend. The one who snickers at all those losers working for The Man while he wears overpriced homeless chic threads he picked up at Urban Outfitters or American Apparel. Such an original guy!
This note sat waiting near a trashcan at an intersection. There’s a Salvation Army nearby, which is where I think the gift probably went.
What happens when a douchey boyfriend - for even an ironically douchey boyfriend is still douchey - plays Santa? See for yourself:
