spring break

April 16, 2014

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darlings it’s been too long.

i’ve been remiss from my post.

like a rampant co-ed, unleashed on myrtle beach; caution and bra to the wind, my feet dangling, shot-gun, outside the sunroof, as i pass my number to the cutest boy in town; laptops and passcodes have been ebola virus loathe to me………until today.

glad to see you.

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catch me up on you, as i french kiss this cup of dark roast.

is april treating you well?

like me, are you fist pumping the lilac-scented, morning air; HAPPY for warmer days and shorter nights; uber-thrilled with sunday’s episode of game of thrones? –if you’re not caught up…get OFF the internet now!

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against type, {half-asian, allergic to daylight} i’ve been playing outdoors.

each afternoon, with hat on head, pocketing out new parts of town, i taste-test the sunshine, sampling all the radiance and jolly spring has to offer.

nothing too adventurous, typically it’s never more than a five minute stroll down a foreign street, or i’ll park somewhere farther away than usual; the perfect portion of fresh air and vitamin d—nothing more, nothing where i break a sweat or strap on sneakers.

this is me we’re talking about; i wear sunscreen to bed, i have zero desire to trek nepal, nor go anywhere requiring a compass or map. my version of SURVIVOR is a hotel without 24-hour room service.

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competing with sunshine, for air time in my life, is sweet; there is a prolific amount of sweet going around town.

sweetness comes in all forms these days, and not just in my recent, key lime pie face-plants.

my easter basket of sweet includes the tall, the short, male, female, four-legged with whiskers, and a pulse-free, heart rate inducing nemesis keeping me up at all hours of the night.

and sometimes that sweet comes in the form of falling flat on my face, scraped-up knees and bloody elbows for souvenirs, accompanied with a wet-your-pants rendition of how it all went down.

my lesson there was that not all fences need mending. i tend to bloat my importance in other people’s lives. sometimes silence is the loudest and clearest message of all.

now it’s just a matter of me walking, breathing, & hip-shaking my new awareness.

but there’s still sweetness in knowing that although i may not have succeeded in an earnest endeavor, i’m still standing, loving {hard}, laughing {a lot,} and believing in the good.

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i’m a sucker for a happy ending.

{don’t be nasty.}

and i get one every morning and every night…

{again keep it clean, guys.}

thank you is a happy ending.

a 45-second, out of the saddle, sprint, with the biggest, fattest gear, leaving me breathless, and wanting to vomit, is a happy ending.

lessons, even when they leave me tear-stained are happy endings.

the breath of a beast is a happy ending.

 and every time i sit down to say “hello” to you, THAT is a happy ending.

wednesday happy to you my bunny rabbits; wishing you many happy endings…

love,

katie

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it’s friday i’m in love

April 4, 2014

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friday-you’re my all-time favorite-to you m’loves!

my heart + head are taking a victory lap around the happy track as i reflect on my week well-spent.

i’ve earned each one of my evening bubble baths, and i have the scrapes, bruises and aching knee as proof.

as much as i complain about being tired, sore and wanting more days off, i can’t put a price tag on that feeling of satisfaction, at the end of the day, when it’s too exhausting to even emotionally eat, of having worked my face off.

here are a few other things putting effervescent, linden-scented, bubbles in my life:

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ok please tell me you all have sisyphus?

no, not the venereal disease that killed al capone and paul gaugin.

sisyphus!

the new album from Sufjan StevensSon LuxSerengeti?

um…..

mind blown–

—thundered like that popcorn bag you forget to take out of the microwave and that has now exploded hot, burnt, morsels of popped fever throughout the house.

this will be my spring/summer playlist.

let’s JAM!

{do you know how happy it makes me that i spelled the word venereal wrong 3 times?}

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how do you like my new cup?

villa pilates and yoga {my wednesday night, pilates party joint} just got the best, new coffee mugs in their shop.

they have three different versions….you better snap one up, asap, before they’re all gone.

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i’ve had a great round of random, unplanned {one planned} encounters with friends this week.

don’t you love those spontaneous pockets of catch-up time in the grocery aisle or coffee line? all week-long, i was gifted with meaningful, resonant, albeit too short, brushes with love and friendship.

typically when i run into friends i’m sporting my most-haggard, is-she-homeless-outfit:

“no sir, i don’t need your extra change, but thank you for the offer, i WILL eat the rest of your burrito though.”

fortunately all week-long i’ve been wearing my new favorite sweatshirt to help dispel any current vagabond rumors.

again, from villa pilates and yoga {my paycheck is pretty much a wash for what i end up buying each week; carly sources the BEST stuff in town.}

this california landscape sweatshirt fulfills every jennifer beals/flashdance fantasy i’ve ever had. it has not left my back since i took it off the hanger.

“villa” has a few left {call carly,}  and there’s a cool new mexico landscape on 35 mm’s website.

it’s made from the softest material, and hangs kind of low in the back; it’s a great sweatshirt for chilly, coastal california, summer nights.

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 the other day i was asked what my “look” typically is…

 ”a snarl, of course!

i snapped back, bad-temperedly.

having to have the question re-explained to me {twice,} i, now, have a different answer.

my look? my style?

got it.

i wish i could say i’m of the ladylike, preppy-ilk: she whom lunches with a cavalier king charles spaniel in her kelly green, kate spade; knees perfectly knocked together, crossed at the ankles in satin-ribbon adorned ballet flats, sipping chamomile tea while waxing poetic over the latest jodi pocult novel, and philanthroping hard for her junior league’s upcoming charity ball, but that fucking shit isn’t me.

i so admire this style and have tried to emulate it most of my life: think popped collar, manicure to match, grandmother’s pearls, and a hem-length just as afraid of heights as i am…

but alas my nails haven’t been painted since 2013, granny wore kimonos, and even my conversational french {which is nil} is so brimful of profanity; one sentence out of my filthy, four-letter peppered mouth, and my membership into club preppy was axed.

lately my style is best described as a twelve-year old, pre-pubescent boy with a penchant for blow dry bars and heavy duty eye cream.

case in point: check out my new vans!

they’re black and white checker-board slip-on’s and they’re the raddest things to ever happen to my feet; second to a massage i had in shanghai, ten years ago, but that post is password protected.

and best of all priscilla think my vans are low-class, so it’s highly unlikely she’ll destroy them.

nevertheless she will be with me at the skate park this afternoon.

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so i may prefer vans over valentino, but i’m still a sucker for the beauty parlor.

yesterday i had a fun visit with my original girl crush, misha nesselrod.

misha, known as the eyebrow-whisperer, has also become the eyelash fairy.

i’ve had eyelash extensions before.

no one else knew i had them, they just assumed i was a coffee-addicted, vans-wearing, twelve-year old boy, looking for the nearest drag-queen competition. and after one too many inquests into my tucking talent i nixed going to the eyelash extension bar.

that is until misha convinced me to let her do “express” lashes on me…promising me i wouldn’t look like ru-paul.

express lashes from misha are a 30 minute, SUPER-natural looking, painless, affordable option for those of you, like me, who have been burned before by the reach out and touch the car in front of you, lashes.

you can see in my photo how natural looking they really are.

while i was there i also got a great trim from laurie bernard. this was my first haircut at holiday salon, and i can see what all the buzz is about.

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and lastly:

VEEP is back this sunday!

now, DUH, of course, like all of you, i’ll be watching game of thrones with bated brain and breath, but VEEP is just so friggin smart and hilarious i’m just as excited about its return.

it’s the perfect antidote to all the dark, grimy, sinister shows i tend to love and have been bingeing on of late.

the no they did not!??!! factor on veep is so high i was alarmed when a former white house press secretary from the new republic wrote that VEEP is “more accurate than you realize.

god help us.

can we please just get someone to have the OPPOSITE opinion about house of cards?

{SPOILER ALERT}

every time i see joe biden on tv now, i get a gag-inducing image of him, jill, and mr. secret service man, three-some’ing on the kitchen counter…i need this erased from my brain PLEASE!!

so there you have it: my favorites for my favorites.

did i miss anything?

see you on the other side of sunday m’loves.

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miss april

April 2, 2014

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i know we’ve only been going steady for less than 48 hours, but miss april, with your midnight rainfall and sweet-smelling, blooming orange blossom, you’ve planted your flag in this girl’s heart, iwo jima style.

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the window of opportunity, to do better, to know better, to be kinder, and to let things go, has always been wide open; this time of year it just seems a bit more, ajar, than other months.

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perhaps it’s the wee hour melody of our newest residents?

a nest of baby birds greet us at dawn, their hungry chirps, a dulcet diatribe to their mamma, demanding breakfast and cuddletime, serenade us, without delay or doubt, into these sunnier, warmer days. it is impossible to leave the house in a bad mood.

so off i go: to know better, to do my best, to love my hardest, and let the rest go.

happy wednesday m’loves.

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emergency change of schedule today m’loves….

April 1, 2014

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just a litttle head’s up.

i’m calling in sick lazy to work today.

nothing itches my happy bone like a rainy, spring morning.

the second i heard those thick, plump drops topple down onto the backyard gravel i dreamily smiled to myself knowing i would be staying put, here in bed for the rest of the day, no-showing to all of my classes and clients; maybe even taking haven here for the rest of my life, for i’m sure to get fired for such reckless and flip decision-making.

but when cozy calls, and your dvr is stock full of law and order {circa jesse martin,} the choice is kind of made for me.

so happy tuesday m’loves…you know where to find me {under the sheets,} hopefully i’ll be back to work tomorrow…if i’m not jobless.

oh…and april fool’s…i’ve been up for hours, LOADED on coffee, priscilla and i tango-ing like mad argentines, under sprinkles of an april shower.

see y’all soon….get ready to werk.

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jilted courtesy of URBAN DECAY

March 24, 2014

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when part and parceling for a baby girl, my parents bred for self-confidence, brains, and poise; instead they got sarcasm, table manners, and a rehab-level need to please.

it wasn’t their fault, i came out of the womb making amends, ironically rolling my eyes at nurses, and asking for extra blankets to cover my newborn-chubby thighs, ankles and cheeks.

not much has changed, except now my “that’s what she said” exchanges occur in pilates class, and i’ve swapped hospital blankets for lululemon.

but in my make-believe life, where i have the body image and grit of a disney princess come full circle, i’d be fearless in my fashion choices, and i wouldn’t apologize for it!

{yikes. sorry if that sounded brash.}

the first of these lion-hearted actions would be sliding into the hottest of hot pink, leather, tight pants law enforcement would publicly permit me to wear.

this time of year i cannot coat myself in ENOUGH of the color pink; i typically hit my overdose by mid-may, but from now until my birthday it’s game on with rose, fuchsia, blush and salmon.

and until whole foods starts selling their smoothies with an added shot of backbone and pluck, i’ll be wearing my new hot pink lip instead of said leather pants.

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enter URBAN DECAY’s 24/7 lip pencil in jilted.

jilted is the perfect pink to exhume my pale, dehydrated, coffee-addicted face from its cold, winter, “can i please just my teach spin class in this bathrobe?” grave.

it also comes in the lip junkie lip gloss and the “creamy badass” revolution lipstick.

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i like a more natural, less pigmented lip {except for spin class, then i’m full foundation-face, fake lashes, and rouge,} so i balm my lips first, and then color them with a pencil.

for me, this process lasts pretty long, and i don’t look like too much of a whore….

{i said “too much.”}

pink!

see?

just a little pink pick-me-up for my otherwise katie-the-smart-alecky-ghost face.

don’t let name jilted dissuade you, jilted is like all those 90′s romantic comedies we re-watch over and over again during those marathon weekends on the couch…it’s a cheerful, non-jarring, reliable addition to your mood.

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but let me count the ways i love URBAN DECAY…a 15 second session with just one product, my baked bronzer, takes the underground chalkiness from my cheeks and replaces it with {faux} sunshine; kind of like a kelly ripa commercial for electrolux, don’t give me the hour show, but a quick little snippet is manageable and surprisingly non-vomit inducing.

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and when i really want to make my case for a third dog, all it takes is one coat of UD’s super curling mascara, and a slick of 24/7 glide on eye pencil in smoke. there’s something about a smoky eye which brings out the easy button in my husband.

in spring, especially here in southern california, i think the most you want is 5 products on your face….too much product, texture and color gets distracting and takes away from the face, conversation, & person.

this time of year, the sunset is a magical, beautiful light; it is its own cosmetic.

and speaking of beautiful…..

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isn’t this a good picture of me?

i’m going to leave you with how i see myself….

have a pretty in pink monday m’loves.

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it’s friday, i’m in love…

March 21, 2014

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friday two-fists in the air to you m’loves!

i sprung out of bed, landing toe-ball-heel, raring to dance the hippy-shake.

who else is with me?

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this week marked me officially as a certifiable certifed dailey method instructor.

i love my new home, my boss, my fellow teachers and students.

please come visit me at this gorgeous newport beach barre studio.

we’ll tilt our hips, scoop our abdominals and tone our “seats,”—–and you might even get a little miley twerk from me if you’re sweet.

coffee

i’m trying to write this post; stay on point, keep it succinct and interesting, but there’s a seduction taking place to my right; a dark, robust suitor nesting in my coffee mug, competing for my affection and attention with its smoky aroma and bitter caramel taste.

my vegan princess-pal patty, lavished a bag of these prized roasters’ choice beans on me, from the handsome boys, the hot new name in delicious, gourmet, coffee.

the distraction is killing me.

please excuse typos and grammatical errors….”it was the coffee officer, i swear.”

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more gifts! more gifts! more gifts!

this is my happy “gift face”⇧

i’m telling you i AM the luckiest brat in town.

i LOVE it when my students/friends give me music; specifically in the mixed tape/cd form–it’s like i’m back in jr. high again, biting my nails when my crush walks by {the janitor} and wetting pants when i laugh too hard {yes, i was THAT girl.}

this particular bad boy is from my love, litza. she is queen of finding the rare, never been heard before, mashup—i’m convinced in her spare time she actually makes them herself.

litza knows my style and my taste for the power of the not so in your face, blatant, is that bass or did you just jack hammer my eardrum?, song.

phantogram can do no wrong for these types of moments, and she included their newest single “fall in love” on my mixed c.d.

more often than not the orange county vanity plate is a nauseating dispatch of one’s wealth: CASHMNY, STKBRKR, UPGRDE, INDABK, BNKRLD + HIRLLR are some recent examples of plates i’ve espied around town {the gulfstream/bristol farms parking lot is a fantastic stockpile for such vehicle-egomania.} hunkiest and i actually have a game with another couple where we take photos of the most obnoxious vanity plates we see; typically these messages are framed with a maroon and gold USC trojan frame {not trying to be a hater, but we have the photographic proof, AND our fellow game players-trojans themselves, can begrudgingly attest to this,} but on occasion i see a super cute vanity plate….yesterday i saw this one and it made me smile.

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something else to make you smile: jennifer lawrence’s deleted lip sync scene from american hustle.

i wasn’t too wild about this film. i thought jennifer lawrence was the only bright spot in the whole movie; such a shame this scene of rosalyn furiously cleaning the house like a rabid, meth-addicted chipmunk, simultaneously singing santana’s “evil ways” was axed.

i enjoyed this clip more than the entire 2 hour and 9 minute running time.

here’s the whole four-minute scene {worth the watch!}

so there they you have it, my friday loves…anything you care to share, darling readers?

wishing you a weekend of shaking hips, baby momma’s, and cash money!

see you on the other side of sunday m’loves…..

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she’s here!

March 20, 2014


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 in the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt. 

~Margaret Atwood

spring

so if i haven’t said it before i’ll repeat it again:

i LOVE springtime.

it’s my favorite time of year.

i’m such a sucker for renewal, rebirth, possibility—you’d think all that catholicism would have stuck?

 i’m rob ford crack-pipe crazy for this season of pastel pink and easter bonnet gingham….i get high on star jasmine and the neon yellow of peeps cheerfully perking up the grocery aisle.

would i, or have i ever eaten a peep?

no.

but i like their look.

maybe it’s the eternal optimist in me, the part that believes that every spinach salad i eat has a four-leaf clover, tucked away, hidden, in at least one bite, but these happy, hopeful fumes of spring help keep me afloat on my magic carpet, where every side is the bright side, all year-round.

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i’m constantly bombarding, heckling, aka bugging the shit out of my students with the following question:

“what is working for you?”

hoping, that instead of laser-focusing on the burn in their quads, the scuba-like shortness of breath, and the clock that seems to have grinded to a halt every time we hit an interval, they’ll hone in on how strong they feel or how far they’ve come in the last six months.

i ask them to re-evaluate what is working and to ditch anything, especially the negative, wasted mental energy that isn’t serving them.

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i go through a similar self-appraisement.

what is working for me?

so much.

…but my parents taught me it’s impolite to brag.

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the gunk that isn’t working is starting to fix itself out….

for me to live my best life, i have to find the fun…even if it’s just me, at 6am with the early birds, coffee in our water bottles, the moon still in the sky, we find the beat, we find the fun, in one dark room, on spin bikes, we dance our faces off.

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certain chapters will close, new stories will start…

that is what spring is for.

what will be your spring story?

more of  mine to come…

happy spring m’loves.

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it started with an innocent text..

March 18, 2014

 

so last week the goddess {aka raquel perry, the fitness stalker, my girl crush,} sent me a text:

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i mean i was raised not to be rude.

and since when am i to turn down a homemade, crispy-riced, i need two napkins please, confection?

especially when they were hand-delivered, hot-pants clad, mid my nut-house, DMX-themed spin party, last saturday morning.

that’s real, i’ll-hold-your-hair-when-you-puke, friendship.

{luckily raquel has super short hair though.}

famished from my hip-hop-palooza on a bike, there was no ladylike postponement, waiting until i got home before i face dived into my gifted, baggie of sweet, crunchy goodness; with crispies in my lashes and pretzel crumbs in my belly button, i bare teethed texted raquel, demanding the recipe….

textthe thing is….i have been known to “demand” recipes in the past….

remember beautiful dena?

i was hell-bent on getting her chicken soup recipe too; stalked her new jersey ass, threatened to kidnap a twin or two of hers, and held up traffic on a bridge for a day until she gave it up.

she did.

but then i read how complicated it was {it really wasn’t but i’m an imbecile,} and the liklihood of me making chicken soup NOT from a can is faint.

but i promise to share her recipe soon with y’all.

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but these krispy things…{is krispy with a “k” or a “c”?,} really did read easy {you saw the text.}

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there are the rice puffs….

brown rice puffs, unsweetened.

3 cups.

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 spelt pretzels….

1 cup {chopped}

now i have NO idea why they have to be spelt; raquel specified spelt. i don’t know what spelt is; if you ask me “spelt” sounds like a species of fish. but if raquel tells me to eat used baby wipes, you bet i’m going to chow down on a cost-co sized box of those pre-moistened, not-so powder fresh anymore, towelettes…have you seen this woman?

cornsyrup (1 of 1)

1/2 cup brown rice syrup….

this makes it sweet.

{yes, i may or may have not added more than she said….i did.}

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1/2 cup peanut butter…..

“save the rest of the jar for later date emotional eating binge”….i do—-{these are my notes, not raquel’s}

mess (1 of 1)

1/2 tsp of vanilla….

2 cups for the floor and the counter.

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and this is why i hate to cook: directions like “a pinch of salt.”

what the f*^! does that mean?!!?!?

“a pinch” is a very partial amount….especially when it comes to salt….a pinch of salt to me, someone who thinks there’s too much salt in the salt-free food i buy, is one, micro, unseen speck of that tangy, white poison….yet if you were to ask me what a “a pinch” of sugar looks like, i’d need a forklift to show you.

give me metrics people!

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nevertheless they turned out delicious…albeit looking a bit yellow and dijon mustard-ish…

hunkiest liked them, so that’s all that mattered.

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 is it just me or does anyone else think of the maggot scene from poltergeist when you look at this plate?

i told raquel that was my only gripe; from far away i thought i’d made worm casserole.

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apparently i bought the wrong kind of cereal; her fancier, euro-erewhon are less larva-looking.

priscilla also gave her seal of approval. she loves when i cook; especially with peanut butter, she knows she’ll get the spoon.

but really, if you’re looking for a delicious, healthier alternative to rice crispy treats, and you’re not allergic to peanuts you should try this super-easy recipe.

happy cooking m’loves.

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it’s friday i’m in love…

March 14, 2014

friday

friday whiskers on kittens to you m’loves!

spring is almost here and my elation can’t be contained; there has been a projectile vomit of lily plant over the entire house.

my favorite time of year triggers a merry-go-round in my heart and makes the 80′s sitcom in me want to come out and play.

last night i was convinced to stay out passed 7pm, on a school night, with the girls.

i was even persuaded to sip a “white wine blend”…..hey as long as it semi-tastes like a bartles & james wine cooler, i’m your cheap date girl.

i think the last time i was out this late, i had a test on passé composé vs imperfect in madame jester’s french class the next morning… Il semblait trop parfait….

french class///spin class…tomAYto///tomAHto

although i’m angry-tired this morning {double fisting mugs of coffee grounds—not even bothering to brewing it–just straight, dry grounds down my throat,} hanging with the girls, laughing until we cry, or in some cases wetting our pants, is good for the soul.

it’s something i love.

here are a few of the other things i’m loving this week:

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this girl ↑, right up there, her name is amber rees, and i LOVE her.

do you guys read rate your burn?

it’s pretty hilarious; i have a love/hate relationship with this site.

it’s the yelp for fitness clubs, classes, instructors, and studios.

yesterday i read this post describing amber’s super, rock-star performance, teaching her most recent spin class at cyc fitness in nyc.

not 25 minutes into class, ms. rees got off her bike to ramp up the energy amongst her students. mid stage, she slipped and fell, fracturing a rib and collapsing a LUNG. yet she popped right back up, finished the class with continued said vitality, STAYED after, leading the cool down and post-class chat. about, what? i don’t know…the “true detetective” finale? and THEN cabbed it to the emergency room.

this girl is my hero…like mariah carey level…

seriously, if my mic goes out, i call my therapist, mid class, in tears.

amber i’m crushing, lupita-style, on you, let’s have a girls night.

divergent

i know more about quantum physics than i do about the divergent movie {and or book,} and i HAD to double-check the spelling of “quantum” just now, but the soundtrack from the upcoming movie is nuts!

i’m loving every song…

although a few tracks i already own {my poor spin class is SO sick of run, boy run,} new snow patrol, skrillex, + ellie goulding were worth the entire purchase…have a listen.

ballonsso there you have it…i showed you mine….no you show me yours…what’s currently making your eyes bright and aglow with whoopee?

this weekend i’m stockpiling my cat naps and moments of quiet with nothing to do.

a new spring schedule begins for me on monday carving out the leisure lady time i’d become so akin to.

hopefully i’ll be able to see some of you in some of my new classes….

may your weekend be full of smiles that last for days…

see you on the other side of sunday m’loves….

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ladies who lunch….

March 11, 2014

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happy tuesday dahlings.

pardon the jet set accent, but yesterday i got my fancy on, and played posh amongst the oc gentry for a monday afternoon filled with champagne cocktails, bally bags, and runway fashion.

 the orange county chapter of child help, the leading non-profit organization dedicated to helping victims of child abuse and neglect, had their 28th annual fashion show here in newport beach.

 my always splendid, super fashionable friend, the famous, mrs. burns, invited me to be her “plus one.” i couldn’t say “yes” fast enough.

it was an affair replete with charity, jimmy choo, and cheesecake.

blow

first stop: blow out bar.

your ticket getting into these charity events isn’t your name on the list or voucher, it’s whether you pass the sniff test of fresh tressed moroccan oil. hair must also dispatch to the proper volume and height only achieved from a professional blow dry.

already at 8am the swivel chairs were elbow to elbow full of fellow attendees, swapping stories of what they were going to wear and who was going.

urban

after the teasing, spraying, and edification of my sweaty, spin class hair, i moved on to spackle and prefabrication….my face.

i lay at the mercy of my urban decay altar where i cast various spells and black magic witchery in efforts to make under eye circles, spots and wrinkles vanish like boyfriend’s past.

no such luck, but i did manage NOT to look like too much of a hooker.

{you’re welcome mom.}

dress

the shoes were a success!

they matched and went perfect with my dress in hubba-bubba bubble gum pink {mrs. burns forbid me from wearing my favorite, go-to black.}

heel

i wasn’t two steps down our front path when i heard a crunch….only to discover these shoes had been another girl’s favorite too.

PRISCILLA!!!!!!!
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one shoe change later, a non-repentant dog condemned to her crate, and a dash down pch, i arrived at the luncheon, raffle tickets in hand, ready to win something grand…i was hoping something along the lines of a facelift or eye job—-judging from the taut necks and jawlines of most attendees, it looked like they were last year’s party favors. so of course i stuffed the ballot.

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 the fashion show did not disappoint.

sponsored by south coast plaza we were fed a fanfare of super-fun spring fashion; both men and women.

the models, unfortunately, looked as if they hadn’t been fed in months.

i’m actually starting a charity fashion show to raise money for feeding the models next.

here’s a tiny shot of some of the diane von furstenburg fun {we saw bally, missoni, carolina herrera, dkny, many others…i can’t believe i’m forgetting them all}…i was too distracted by the pretty clothes to film for too long.

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at lunch we were properly sobered up with the statistics of the reality of child abuse.

did you know the number one cause of death for young children is child abuse?

i did not.

the united states is one of the worst nations in the world for child abuse.

it kind of made me feel like a loser for all the grandstanding i do about china’s child labor…..

every year, in the united states, there are a reported 3 million cases of child abuse; and even more disgusting, there are over 6 million children believed to be abused each year.

on average we lose 4 to 6 children EVERY DAY to child abuse.

child help supplies assistance with support lines, monetary and educational assistance, and housing to those affected by child abuse.

if you’d like more information or to make a donation please visit their website.

linda

ah.

mrs. burns.

love her.

she was/is the real show stopper.

thank you so much linda for letting me “plus one” you.

i had the greatest time, even if i was a fish out of water…more like a fish in dubai…but the ladies i hung out with were divine, and i’m definitely doing it again next year.

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