the meat metaphor.

the thing about the new york city subway system is that you're bound to run into someone you know.

the longer you live here the greater your chances. (until you've lived here so long that everyone else has moved away. but i'm not there yet. close, but not yet).

often. when least expected. the door opens and a shadow of distant days steps on, looms over you.

i ran into one such...shadow not so long ago.

we made polite conversation.

i asked him a question regarding something my mind had retained from years previous.

he remarked on my good memory.

i smiled.

turned my head towards my lap and smiled.

i really wanted to turn to him, look right at him, say yes, i remember everything and get off at the next stop.

but i simply smiled.

and sorted through the conjured memories by my lonesome as innocuous language was used to fill the seven-year-stop-gap between us.

weeks later now a new memory has arisen. and it makes me giggle. makes me feel like i'm eighteen and young and the world is harmless.

ready? he compared men to different cuts of steak. asked why i'd want a macdonald's big mac when i could get a tender filet from the best steakhouse in town.

ha, steak. men!

funny because now i'm a full-fledged, card-carrying vegetarian (if they carried cards, i'd have one).

the metaphor never made too much sense to me anyway. and certainly never got him what i assume he wanted which was not all...above-board, shall we say.

and besides, i always liked a good big mac.

all in its time. all in its place.

the strapless dress saga: a backstory.

the other thing to know about the strapless dress discussion is that...

my mother approached the whole thing by saying the type of dress you wear to a family member's wedding differs from what you would wear to a friend's wedding.

you see, there may or may not have been a dress worn to a family wedding last year that not long after appeared on an episode of brothers and sisters as worn by...

...wait for it...

sally fields.

now don't get me wrong. i love me some sally fields. but she's the matriarch of the family. and has a good 35 years on me. at least.

needless to say the dress has not been worn again.



it should also be noted that my mother has been right about a few things in the past. namely concealer and hairbrush. who knew? those two things have revolutionized my life.

a guide to a successful self-portrait session. (in the bathroom).

1. stop worrying about whether it's narcissistic. it is. move on.

2. pull out your bumpit. if your gonna engage the ego, might as well add a bit of whimsy.

3. choose a bathroom with strong lighting to wash out any flaws.

4. make sure the camera is in focus, even if you are not.

5. know that for every 10 photos you take there might be 1 good one. and that's a pretty successful ratio.

no, but in all seriousness, i joke about this and i take excessive amounts of bathroom shots because i actually have a tremendous fear of having my photo taken. darn that last vestige of ned. but i'm working on it. here's to the day when i won't need to ever employ the bathroom photo shoot again!

and since i'm feeling "in the answering questions mood": the lipstick worn in my other bathroom shoot was benefit lip stain in posietint.

for your listening (and viewing) pleasure. {and for mine}.

i know, i know. another one.
(another noah and the whale related post).
and yes, i know, i understand why many think this third album isn't as good as the first two.
but the thing is...
well.
the second album was one of such deep heartache.
and i know that. that sadness that swallows you whole.
so this third album--one of great hope and resiliency and coming back to one's self and realizing that life is even sweeter...well, maybe that's why i love it. the bliss of it. the bliss that comes after the fallout.

so yes. i'm sharing this video. because it's one of my favorite songs on the album.
and because lately, i've been thinking, that i'd do just about anything to be seventeen again, driving the winding roads to school in my volvo station wagon, listening to john mayer (before he ever released his second studio album and we learned far too much about his personal life in the tabloids). to be seventeen, immune to heartache, and feel like anything at all is within a fingertip's grasp.

ps: doesn't the drummer just look like sun is shining down on his face?

a change in wardrobe

everyone's begun to panic that i'm not dating anyone.

(any by everyone i mean my mother. though maria said i have only two years before i reach spinsterhood--two years being her mark because she was twenty-seven when she tied the knot).

on my first day home i sat at the counter watching the television as i chomped down on my omega bread and peanut butter. my  mother slid a j. crew catalog in front of me. flipped to a page with an abundance of strapless dresses. see these? i think, you should think, about wearing one of these to the wedding this summer. 

i have a wedding to go to this summer.
my mother thinks i should wear a strapless dress.
point of fact: my mother thinks a strapless dress will snag me a man.

oh, that's all it takes? okay then. 


it became the joke of the week. strapless dresses: the panacea for my life.


i don't know why i haven't dated anyone seriously. maybe i'm picky. too picky? sure. maybe i've chosen poorly in the past. maybe the timing's been off. maybe, as it turns out, i'm quite shy. maybe i want the guy to make the first move. maybe i fear a broken heart.

honestly, maybe i just don't know.

but i'm willing to give the strapless dress thing a go.