The present in New York is so powerful that the past is lost.

Jun 30

I spent the last three days in New York City attending a seminar at the Direct Marketing Association. I haven’t been to the city since I was a girl, and experiencing it on my own accord (for the most part) was incredible. I was voted “Most Likely to be on Broadway” in highschool, and I’m thinking all those girls may have been on to something. There may have been a place for me there. The people, the sounds, the food, the noise, the culture, the streets…there is truly no place on earth quite like it. Asking people to take pictures of you in true tourist form isn’t even that awkward. Or if it is, I didn’t care – because just soaking in all the world right in those little moments was all that mattered. I truly regret not packing my Canon 60D (an artist without her tools in the most inspirational of places is quite a shame), but these little arms could only carry so much luggage. A blackberry camera and an iPod touch were all I had to document, but better than nothing at all. I enjoyed roaming the streets, eating new foods, meeting new marketers/artists and learning new things. It was a short trip, but one I am most thankful for and truly won’t forget.

Salvatore Ferragamo and Marilyn!

Times Square on a Thursday

Crepe au Chocolate and Cotes du Rhone

9/11 Memorial

In love with Manhattan

Times Square at Night

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A Lesson in Eating/Shopping Your Feelings.

Oct 15

Let me preface this with a general public service announcement: here begins a mundane, boring, classic example of a good old-fashioned style blog entry about how “blah” and “moody” my day has been. That being said…

1. Don’t go to Banana Republic when you are tired/sad/depressed/bored/broke/ever. They will eat your soul. Factory outlet or not…they will E A T your soul. But the dress pants…oh, the dress pants!

2. Trips to Target at 10:00 a.m. involving a basket full of makeup, personal care items, and a 6-pack of Blue Moon *will* result in strange looks. Especially when you are dressed in black yoga pants and a hot pink hoodie. Really, I promise I’m over 21. I even have a career! And babies! And a husband and a house! Amazing…the hats I wear.

3. No food in house? Silent treatment going around? Awesome. Throw some dusty linguine from the basement “stockpile” in a pan with frozen shrimp, coffee creamer (yes), margarine (I know) and some expired spinach leaves. It will be edible after 2 of the above mentioned Blue Moons have been ingested.

4. Crying babies? No solution or advice available at this time. Please stay tuned.

And…back to your regularly scheduled programing.

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The weekend the little girl ate her big fat feelings.

May 16

-I’ve gone out for every single meal since Friday night.
-I can’t fit into my dress pants, and I’m pretty sure one sorry attempt at a “run” this morning won’t fix it.
-On the bright side, some HUGE stress has been lifted.
-On the not so bright (actually, really dark and scary side) some more stress as been thrown back in my face.
-I don’t want to be reckless, but I want to take risks.
-Being allergic to the world sucks.
-Bullet points are easy.
-Being honest, eloquent, pretty and fearless is not so easy [this weekend]
-I feel like all lights are on me and I’m standing frozen on stage.
-It’s worth noting that normally, I enjoy being center stage.
-Learn to MAKE YOURSELF HAPPY. Learn to make yourself happy. Learn to make yourself happy.

One day I will go to Paris. I will wear black dresses, eat croissants, wear really delightful shoes and touch all of the sculptures and all of the street signs. I will stare through windows of stores I can never shop at, maybe splurge on something Chanel just to have in my collection. I will drink espresso and wander aimlessly through streets. I will ride trains to visit countryside Chateaus and gaze at sheep eating bright green grass. I will live like I was meant to live. In that pretend fantasy life that I’ve created in my mind.


(That last one is me, the photos are still being processed from the St. Jude’s Runway show the other weekend. I enjoy candids…mostly when I don’t look heinous).

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