Congrats to the newlyweds in DC! Yesterday was a pretty cool time here in the nation’s capital: it was the first day gay couples were allowed to legally marry. Thanks to organizations like the Human Rights Campaign and the Campaign for DC Families, the new law was passed by city council and then signed by the Mayor at the end of last year. Today it became effective.
My whole thing is that if two people want to love each other and get the same tax benefits that my husband and I have– why not? And I’m sorry, if Britney and K-Fed were allowed to marry without question — everyone should get the green light.
For me, this is just another check in the box for Mayor Fenty. The guy is athletic, broad-minded, and bald. That spells S-E-X-Y in my book! I think of it like Vin Diesel running the city…
Mr. Mayor: Thanks for your support of gay marriage...and unzipping your spandex shirt.
Today, on the most wonderful sunny day of 2010, I had a long talk with my boss about the women’s column I wrote for my last job and how I should start doing more pieces like that. To be honest, I often had to interview the most boring women on the planet for that column. Successful, yes, able to interact with another human being, no. But sometimes I got to meet really amazing dames.
One of my favorite interviews in my two years of writing the column, was Maj. Nicole Malachowski, who I interviewed in the Air and Space Museum while she wore her flight suit. Nicole, who decided she wanted to be a fighter pilot when she was five (I decided I wanted to be a dancing alien at five), became a F-15 Strike Eagle pilot and then the first female Thunderbird. Thunderbirds are not frightening human pigeons, but those helmeted heros who fly loop-the-loops during air shows, etc. When I interviewed Nicole, she was applying to be a White House fellow, which she then became and set her sights on passing a bill to honor the WASPS. The who? Boys who wear pants with pineapples on them and answer by the name of Blaine? No, no, no. The WASPS are the Women Airforce Service Pilots who were established during WWII. They logged 60 million domestic miles while the menfolk were at war.
And now these babes have a Congressional Gold Medal, in large part thanks to Nicole who drafted the Senate bill. Oh, she also just gave the $10,ooo Amelia Earhart Award she earned to the Women Military Aviators scholarship committee. Could a person get nicer? Thank you Nicole for inspiring me, a person who nearly had a heart attack on a Russian plane because someone told her the pilots were drunk.
The original WASPS!
Obama signing that bill in July.
When I met Malachowski I was definitely surprised by how pretty she is. Who knew fighter pilots could be so fabulous!
I work in an office that’s 80 percent chicks. Where college interns outnumber actual employees and topics like Jennie Garth’s masterful performance in “An Unfinished Affair” often kicks off the day’s conversation. While some people might want a little more testosterone in their 9 to 5, I love it! I can come to work looking like a street urchin, or decked out like Gossip Girl’s own Queen Bee, Blair Waldorf. Which is what I did today, for our official dress like Blair day. We have been meaning to implement this for a while, but the end of winter seemed like just the time to pop a silk flower on top of my head and dress like a lollypop.
While preppy kind of reigns in the office anyway, today we got to really indulge in ridiculousness and brave that headband headache. We even made one of the only straight male interns to grace the halls (err, hall…) of Washington Life take our picture like we were lunching on the stairs of the MET. I love the show Gossip Girl, as all Washington Lifers with boobs do, but it can be a tad depressing when high school students on television have far more money and drama than you. Why don’t I have a stalker in a secret silver spoon cult? How come I don’t use a Fendi baguette as my kleenex holder? Well, because I’m not Blair Waldorf. Except for today!!! Next week? Chuck Bass!
Amie, Maci, Kelly Fisher, and me in the backyard at work all dressed like everyone's favorite Park Avenue princess, Blair Waldorf. Yes, our office has a backyard. It's kind of weird but good for photo opps. Loving the headbands!
And later, dinner with even more Washington Life gals! Stacey, Amie, me and Kelly G. It was taken with an iphone cam. We aren't usually this fuzzy.
Finally it really feels like Spring! After schlepping around town all winter in Uggs and scuzzy sweatpants, I am so happy to be able to finally break out my warm weather gear and reintroduce my legs to a razor. So to continue Karin’s “Dress like Blair Waldorf” post, I decided to chat about my favorite Spring trend (which isn’t much of a trend since it happens year after year) — the nautical look. I absolutely love sailor clothes.
If it was socially acceptable to wear my husband’s old Navy hats and anchor cufflinks on trips to the grocery store — I’d do it. I think I love dressing like a sailor as much (if not more) than actual sailing. The stripes, the anchors, the ropes – oh my! It’s so darn cute and classic.
In fact, last year, while attending the Annapolis boat show, several people asked me if I was in costume — as if I were some sort of maritime showgirl. It was one of my proudest moments. I wore yellow sailor pants, a shirt with little navy anchors all over it, top-siders, and giant seagull earrings. I was like a parody of a person attending a boat show. I even contemplated donning an eye-patch and peg leg for the occasion, but Grey told me that was over the top. Go figure.
So with fair winds in the forecast for the next week — I think I’m ready to bust out my salty suiting! Yay!
How cute is this skirt in the Boden catalog? My friend Laura sent me the link and now I must buy it!
When I found myself bidding furiously on eBay’s “Star Trek Captain Kirk Pez Dispenser (Mint!)”at 3am — I realized I may have a problem. I might be taking my obsession with the Internet just a tad too far.
As I ran through my searches for the evening, I discovered I looked at $150 dollar embroidered pillows with state monuments (?!), Maid of the Mist raincoats, toddler sailor suits, milk glass planters, and of course, the Star Trek Pez dispensers. Would I have bought all this junk? I don’t know. Doubtful. However, it got me thinking about how productive I might be if I didn’t waste 40+ hours per week online! The possibilities are endless — a millionaire, a monarch, a trilingual mathematician that knows how to carve wood into animal figurines. I could be so much if I could just hone my time management skills and turn off my computer.
But until then: there’s always that vintage Hoover Dam snow globe to keep me busy!
For only 14.71 (plus shipping of course) you too could be the proud owner of this Collectors Series Star Trek Pez pack!
After heading back from a wonderful weekend in New York, Craig and I scooted over to my friend Cynthia’s for a little Oscar viewing. I met Cynthia, the super talented Washington correspondent for Essence Magazine, in probably the most glamorous way I will ever meet anyone – on the red carpet of the Kennedy Center Honors. We weren’t walking it, but working it, which is still fabulous enough for me.
Tonight we decided to keep it a little more casual and opted not to rub elbows with movie stars, just blab about them on the tube. Zoe from Avatar’s dress = heinous. George Clooney’s hair? How about a trim bro? Kathryn Bigelow sweeping the awards in front of her ex? Simply divine.
While many of Washington’s journalists have one eye and talk only about policy, politics, and the president, Cynthia shares a love of reality with me. While I am going to curse her for feeding me pizza and other forms of lard tomorrow while sweating it out on the treadmill, I’m so glad we brushed elbows on the red carpet. I can also thank her for my lunch this week, as Craig and I actually tied on guessing the Oscar winners (thank you Entertainment Weekly) and took home the pot. For someone who had only seen “The Blind Side,” I was mighty proud.
My friend Cynthia with her close personal friends, POTUS and FLOTUS. You know, just them. So it's awesome that I get to pig out on gummy bears at her place when she's not chatting with the prez.
What is it about a canopy bed that just screams Harlequin romance novel? It doesn’t matter if I’m in one alone, with someone cute, or with some red-eyed hunchback, I want heaving bosoms, ripped bodices, men with so many muscles they can barely lower their arms, etc. etc. Luckily tonight I am in one with someone cute, my boyfriend Craig, who is very easy going and always up for a game of pirate and wench or something like that.
After I spent Friday night in New York, Craig drove up to meet me in the Hudson Valley for a quick idyllic getaway filled with open fires, hikes on the Appalachian trail, and the most romantic of all activities, outlet shopping.
I went to school in the Hudson Valley and always wondered why the brochures beckoning you to college up here didn’t just open with, “Located 45 minutes away from a Chanel outlet!” I would have applied early and maybe stayed an extra semester or two. So every now and again I have to come up here to save 60% on Prada shoes. And then after a long day of spending (but saving!) I get to retire to a bed and breakfast and live out my pirate wench dreams with a four-poster bed, a lot of imagination, and an eye patch. Can’t really think of a more perfect day. Arrrrgh.
Hello bygone era. Here is our bed for tonight. I am actually blogging from it as we speak, clothed and not dressed like a pirate or wench, I promise.
Last night was the perfect lazy Saturday evening. After running up to Baltimore and later stopping by Ollie’s buddy’s 2nd birthday party back home in Arlington, Grey and I were exhausted. Of course, neither of us felt like cooking (Grey’s culinary skills extend as far as cereal with milk) so I charged him with ordering us takeout.
To my surprise, Grey came back with a pizza box the size of a 56″ flat screen TV. Literally. It was enormous. I was honestly confused — were we having friends over? Did he invite some buddies to join us for an impromptu pizza party? Nope. He said he just didn’t want me to “go hungry.” Either that’s sweet and considerate — or Grey thinks I eat more than Jabba the Hut.
Maybe both.
Grey and Ollie duke it out over a slice from the World's Largest Pizza Box
Since my failed trip to the gym and subsequent trip to the Big Buns bakery, I’ve been doing Jillian Michael’s 30 Day Shred every morning. You know Jillian, she’s the tough-as-nails trainer from the Biggest Loser. Anyway, her DVD is fantastic! The best nine bucks at Target I’ve spent since that magnum of cheap pinot noir.
Today Ollie and I joined Ingrid and Laura (and their toddlers) for a morning Shred Session. While the three of us sweated away doing plyometric lunges and back extensions in Ingrid’s basement, the babies beat us on our backs with toy frying pans and Matchbox cars. At one point all four kids even had weights in their hands and were pumping iron while ogling Jillian’s buff abs on the TV. Maybe that will be the new trend in home workout DVDs — having toddlers in the background cracking whips while chubby moms sweat like hogs.
Afterwards, we debated hitting up the local bistro’s all-you-can-eat pizza buffet for lunch but restrained ourselves. Sweet progress!
Did you know Jillian also rides a Harley? This lady is no joke. LOVE her!
The nice thing about working for 21 hours straight, and there really is only one nice thing, is that I get to take a comp day to make up for it. To fully take advantage of my three day weekend, I came up to New York to catch up with friends and spend money like I have it.
One of my best friends from my days in Tokyo, Sylvie, lives here with her husband and one year old baby. When we new each other in Tokyo, Sylvie worked a fabulous high-powered job at Chanel and I was busy seeing how many shots it took to do permanent damage to my small intestine. Sometimes, when she was done making sure Coco Chanel’s mantras lived on, she would join me and we would take over Tokyo’s fine nightlife establishments one toss of hair at a time.
Tokyo’s expat community is a funny place, and at that time, filled with American/Brit/Aussie bankers making a killing in the land of the rising sun. When they got away from their buy/sell/trade jobs, they would go to one of four places which sure enough, were where every expat girl was too. It was a wonderful world of living in a bubble and with Sylvie at my side, it was a blast for a couple years.
And now she’s just about the most glamorous mom in NYC. We had lunch at the Mercer hotel together, played with her baby this afternoon, and now I am recovering from my run across the Queensboro bridge before we head off to dinner. We may not be making eyes at I-bankers while taking vodka shots with the Australian rugby team anymore, but it’s just as fun. Because frankly, Sylvie could make a dinner of dirt and an afternoon in a trailer park elegant. Off I go!
Oh those fabulous days in Tokyo. Here we are at my 25th birthday party sweltering and happy.
And here with two other friends in Tokyo, Rie and Daphanie. This is taken at the Oak Door in Tokyo, where we basically lived. We once chatted with the Black Eyed Peas in the lobby and one of them told Sylvie she was really hot and she brushed him off and said we had somewhere to go. It was kind of awesome.
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