Justin and I had a kind of random day. Here’s what happened:
Free lunch at The Redhead and got to be interviewed for an ep of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. Yum! I love seeing the inner workings of the entertainment industry. I had a seriously delicious Hemingway. Must figure out what they do to make it so good.
Ran errands in the East Village, including closing out a bank account and starting a new business banking account. Bonus - Free lollipop at TD Bank.
Standing at a red light, I noticed a dude wearing orange crocs. Think ‘Man, those look like the shoes Mario Batali wears’ (Why do I know this???). Look up and realize it IS Mario Batali. Giggle to myself as I cross the street.
Got caught in a torrential downpour. Duck into random restaurant and drink hot sake until the rain stops.
Justin buys a Kindle because he obviously doesn’t have enough tech gadgets already.
Just added 11 new cocktails to my To-Do list, and am super stoked to share them with you in the coming weeks.
In addition, I am happy to take requests or take on a challenge (ie: tell me you have one or two ingredients and I’ll figure out something tasty for you to mix up that includes your requirements). Just leave me a message in my ASK section.
I went to high school with her and she now lives in Vegas. Whatever stereotypical image you have in your head about women who live in Vegas is probably about on par with the images she posts to her facebook.
The latest in a series of heinous photos: She is wearing a bedazzled gold bra/bikini top, paired with an open blazer and a sea captain’s hat. I am pretty sure she wore this outfit out in public.
It is taking every ounce of decency in my body to not post the actual pic, so you too might share in it’s cringe-worthy-ness.
My mind is racing and wandering today. Lots of trips and things coming up in the next couple months, lots to plan. Having a lot on my plate always makes me feel a little anxious (even if it’s good stuff), so I think I’ll feel better if I write it all out.
Maybe I got it from someone I loved and had a long relationship with, and maybe I got it from being a big old bed-hopping tramp. I’m not going to say, because it doesn’t matter. It certainly didn’t matter to the cells in my cervix. I’m not ashamed to be in the same company as 80 percent of the population, just as I wasn’t ashamed to tell my daughter that I’d had the virus, and that is why I believe in the vaccine. (The fact that I’ve given birth to her was her first tip-off that Mom’s not a virgin.)
Be ashamed of ignorance. Be ashamed of stigmatizing people for going about the normal business of leading sexual lives. Be ashamed of a culture that’s obsessed with sex but squeamish about the human body. Be ashamed of assuming that giving girls options regarding their future health is somehow a dangerous idea. Be utterly mortified if you’ve ever allowed Michele Bachmann a moment of credibility. But if you’re one of the millions of people like me, who’ve lived and loved and consequently picked up a virus along the way, believe me, a little HPV is the last thing on earth you have to be embarrassed about.
I am guilty of this too, but on the flip side. I’ll say, “oh, I’m not like other girls. I’m not crazy.” My takeaway here is to stop doing that.
And, I definitely self-regulate my emotions to avoid this sort of behavior. This passage hits home for me:
No wonder some women are unconsciously passive aggressive when expressing anger, sadness, or frustration. For years, they have been subjected to so much gaslighting that they can no longer express themselves in a way that feels authentic to them.
They say, “I’m sorry” before giving their opinion. In an email or text message, they place a smiley face next to a serious question or concern, thereby reducing the impact of having to express their true feelings.
*sigh* It really is exhausting to be a woman when I stop and think about all these little daily choices we make to keep ourselves safe and sane.