The Last 24 Hours

I did not feel good when I woke up today after my first night in my new German apartment. Maybe I was homesick. Maybe I was uncomfortable in the abundant amount of space I will call home for the next four months. Maybe it had something to do with the copious amount of alcohol consumed over dinner last night. Who knows. It's really difficult to point a finger. 


So I laid there, in the fetal position, seeking solace in Rob Lowe. He comforted me...via his name-dropping-filled autobiography, which has been his role the past day or so. I brought him with me on the plane. He, my iPad and I shared a spacious row to ourselves in business class. (It ruined me.) We laughed together. We sipped complimentary wine and wore complimentary slippers. It was lovely.

The day leading up to my flight had been hectic to say the least. I woke up (surprisingly!) not hungover from my birthday/bon voyage party the night before. Although I had gone to the trouble to set up a reservation at Rare Rooftop weeks in advance, I showed up only to hear they had no idea who I was. Um what, it's my birthday! Luckily that seemed to be all I needed to say because they went above and beyond in terms of accommodating me and some of my most favorite friends. (Thanks everyone!)

It was hard to say goodbye, lots of choked back tears on my part, but hopefully at least a few of them will manage a trip to see me. (Did I mention the space I'm living in!?! For starters, my bedroom is not the living room. I'm really moving up in the world! Oh, and there is a washing machine, dryer, and elevator. I know, people, I know. I promise to do a proper post on it all when it doesn't look as if I have emptied the contents of two giant suitcases on the floor...spoiler alert: I have actually done that.)

Where was I? Oh right, the day I left for Germany was crazy. I woke up to find an email from my office that the German Consulate had approved my visa! Best.news.ever. Just days before we'd received notice that they were contemplating denying it! So with that, I hauled myself uptown, cutting into my last-minute packing time, but it didn't matter: They wanted me, they really wanted me!

Back at home, a certain someone stopped by - rearranging his work calls no less - to say goodbye (and very importantly) carry down four months worth of my life jammed into two super heavy suitcases. He also gave me a necklace for my birthday, in addition to picking up the entire tab for the aforementioned fiesta. Totally uncalled for in terms of sweet gestures, but very very much appreciated. (Perhaps I'm more of a priority than I thought?)

In a few minutes one of my long-lost friends from my first days in New York (who is German) is coming over to hang out. Before I go, here are a few more details of the start of my German life (mostly for my mother): So far it's consisted of trying to get acclimated in the rain, accidentally shorting out the power in my apartment when I came home last night (I fixed it by myself, hooray!), buying a designer dress I didn't really need but it's my birthday and it looks good on me!! (and it was half price!), an Indian dinner with a new friend (my client's niece) and some client colleagues, and me eating birthday gifted gummi bears (the only sustenance in my apartment) when I woke up today as an attempt to not throw up. It worked. I've just grabbed a cappuccino and a chocolate croissant (apparently Germans are known for their baking, exactly what I need) from a shop down the street from my flat.

Clearly cohesive storytelling is one of my gifts, so I assume we're all still on the same page: The past few days have been insane; I'm tired and living in a foreign country where I'm wildly popular (two whole friends!), living a very privileged life (uh hello, elevator! free slippers!), and spending time with Rob Lowe ('s book.)

I will keep you posted on the rest.


Tschüs!

A Guide to Making Me Hate You

Okay, that's a little aggressive, maybe a better title would have been "A Guide to Pissing Me Off and Making Me Like You Less," but that doesn't quite draw you in as much, now does it?

Anyway, here are a few tips that make it easy for me to get over my feelings for a guy:

• Be some degree of flakey. Vaguely suggest and/or commit to plans in the future, only to schedule something else at the same time. Agree to hang out only to provide no follow up details until the last minute. Or never follow up at all. That's a sweet move. I'll definitely make up excuses for you. Go ahead, let me think that maybe you found yourself in the middle of some elaborate scheme where you had to hide inside a mailbox and grab a letter out of someone's hand to check for the missing stone in his 1984 Dolphin's AFC Championship ring instead of calling me to cancel. (What, yes that was an Ace Ventura reference.) I get there's horrible reception inside of those things, and plus you have an iPhone. That's not your fault! I mean, yes, if it were me, I would definitely have found a way to call you. But whatever you were doing instead of hanging out with me before I left the country for five months, was super important. It's fine!
• Don't make me a priority. I mean, even though you haven't seen me in weeks, don't worry I didn't expect to hang out. Why would we? Even though I would prob choose you over my friends who I see all the time, but what am I saying, that's just me. I love competing with your friends, who you see all the time. You're right, there is nothing else I can offer you that they can't. 
• Toy with my emotions. Whatever you do, though, just make sure it's as inconsistent as possible. Play hot and cold all you want. If you're only cold, I build up a tolerance to it. I come to expect it. What's the fun in that? Instead, always keep me on the defensive. One minute come on with your full-court(ing) press. "Is it bad I want to see you so much?" That'll get me. But don't you dare keep up that cute, available, interested act with me, sir. Now's the time to pull back. Quick, I'm starting to like you! Wham, bam, totally ignore that text for two days, ma'am. Now what am I to think? Have you met someone else? Is it because you think I'm fat? Are you gay? It's totally fine if you are, I support it. But now I'm just so confused! I could totally use someone to talk about this with, but you haven't called even though you said you would. Oh well.

And there you have it. Too much of the above. A reason I'm fine leaving; I need a sabbatical from the bullshit. 

In Germany, I tell myself things will be different. If anything, I can at least blame the language/cultural barrier on my disappointments. I mean, how can I be upset if I don't really know what he's promising? 

PS In honor of Guy Ranting near my birthday, I'd like to say hi to my favorite high school crush and sometimes blog reader. Thanks for surprising me when I got home on my 17th birthday with a personalized cake reading "Your Mustang" in honor of your promise to restore an old classic for me. Showing up at my house, indulging my mom in taking pictures of the two of us. I thought the time had finally come. We were meant to be. But instead you decided that stringing me along for years with no desire to actually date me was a better idea. That sure was special. Good thing we've moved past that :) xoxo

Love Letters

I know this blog is a little confusing because sometimes I talk about boys (more trouble than it's worth at the moment, but just you wait until I'm out of the country, bwahaha), my favorite subject my life and what I've been eating lately, and then there are the occasions where I will wax poetic about my love of The City. (Those times do not tend to take place during that horrible span of months I like to call winter!)

Anyway, below are a few more things I'll miss most. Please indulge me:

• Dogs wearing shoes. Never gets old. Ever. 
• $7 manicures at Sun Tan Nails on 1st Ave. Omg I love you and how you do not insist I partake in small talk. I appreciate your wide and varied color selection. Oh and the abundant supply of new-ish magazines because even though I check People.com every day doesn't mean I don't need to read the full article in print too. Please don't change.
• Any green space, whether it's my beloved Madison Square Park or just a clump of trees on the sidewalk. It makes me so sad to think you'll be barren and icy when I return. Sigh.
• The bus. People look at me like I'm insane when I talk about how much I love the bus. It's not hard! Just Google map your directions and it will tell you which bus to take. Then you can stay above ground and look around. It's glorious! No really, it's quite lovely. And cheap. 
• Oh fantastic chopped salads, you have ruined me for regular salad. It's just not the same. Not at all I say! Maybe they have you in Berlin? One can only hope.
• Friends: Oh dear sweet friends. Yall are the best. Whether we met years ago when I first moved here or we became besties last week, I love you. Making platonic friends is hard work. But you were worth it. I'm so glad we had that awesome time rocking out to my favorite jam "I wanna dance with somebody" and/or remember when we saw [insert celebrity name here] when we were on a walk? Can you believe you made out with that younger guy at a bar and/or totally got checked out by that super creepy old man? And that one time I tried to set you up/you tried to set me up. Seriously, it never works out, but maybe it will someday? Oh silly you and all our fun times. Please don't forget me. Can we have a brunch date when I get back? Or perhaps a Christmas party? Oh yes definitely. It will be classy and also maybe will include jello shots. Mark your calendars: December 17. (It's never too early to start planning for the holidays, you know how crazy it gets then!) xoxo

Okay, that's it for now. I'm off to do some more "soaking it all in" friend time at Crocodile Lounge. Which, that reminds me, please add "Free delicious pizza with every drink purchase" to things I'll miss most.

A Week From Today

A week from today I'll be waking up in my Berlin apartment for the first time. Holy crap.

Everyone keeps asking me, "Are you scared?"

Um, duh?

But, really, though, the fear isn't paralyzing. Maybe when it comes time for my flight next Friday it will embed itself in my bones, but for now, I'm just doing what I can to keep my head above water. And for some reason that seems to entail spending money and making a lot of unnecessary trips to TJ Maxx.

It's sort of like when I moved to New York. Except then I wasn't so much worried about stocking up on lint rollers because I figured they'd probably sell those in New York. Not that Germany is some uncivilized society that doesn't support the removal of lint, but we didn't cover how to say "Where are the lint rollers?" in my five-week beginner class. So you can understand my fear, right? Right?

The move from New York was hard. I was giving up a life-long security blanket of being surrounded by family and friends to move to the Great Unknown. I left behind a supportive, wonderful boyfriend and faced singlehood in a concrete jungle where dreams are made of. And, coincidentally, a lot of dreams are crushed. Especially if you're an idiot who is not aware of the mechanisms of casual dating. It was essentially going from one world to another.

And honestly it was the best decision I ever made. I wouldn't trade all my New York adventures for anything (I would, however, trade the hangovers that followed many of them, ugh). Living here has proven that I can handle whatever comes my way.

I can tell a cab driver which way to get to the airport (Williamsburg bridge!!). I know exactly where to stand in the subway to get let off at my stop (hello pre-walking). I am so jaded-looking that the fundraisers harassing people on the street don't even bother trying to talk to me. I am, what I would consider, a New Yorker. (This might offend people who are "from" New York or have lived here a decade plus, but once you get the main things down that enable you to survive then I think you slowly start the transition process. There are steps. Like in Karate belts or something. I'd say I'm a blue belt. I don't really know what that means exactly, it's just my favorite color. It matches my eyes.)

Where was I? Oh right, so at this point, three and a half years later, while the worry of the unknown still palpitates my heart, I know I will survive. I'm excited to get to know a new city. The idea of making new friends in far away places makes me giddy. And travel, swoon, oh dear sweet travel, I can't wait to make you mine.

Leaving New York is hard. You have no idea. But at least I have a new lint roller.

And I assume that means everything will be fine.

Pretty Close to Perfection

I'm going to miss these pals.

After being gone for two weekends in a row and coming back to a busy week, I was excited to have a relaxing few days to check off some to-do items that needed to be completed before I leave.

Which is precisely why I organized an all you can sushi/sake bomb dinner with some of my favorite girlfriends. Because sometimes life seems to easy and I'm all "maybe I should run a bunch of errands really hungover tomorrow!" 

Luckily, though, that was not the case. So it was with much enthusiasm that I woke up and dragged myself crosstown to TJ Maxx to shop for suitcases. Before noon. Big fat gold star. I was sort of under the impression that suitcases were maybe like five dollhairs or something. This, however, does not seem to be the case, leading me to drop more money than I had planned on additional "adult items" (aka boring things, not like adult diapers or something, just to clarify).

These gals too.

There is just really nothing more fun than being faced with tons of decision-making (ZOMG why are there so many choices? And almost all are the same color scheme?) while trying to catch up with your mother on the phone who is giving you a really short window to go through all the details you learned about your upcoming move in two weeks (ZOMG!?) while you're simultaneously pacing around frantically because oh crap that giant iced coffee you downed on the way has kicked in.

Eeek.

So yeah, that's how I started my day. Like an adult. Or something. (I ended up buying these bad boys because in my head they seemed kind of distinguished and maybe I'll have them forever or something? Like an investment? Please note I am making a weird face while typing something so lame. I hope you are reciprocating with something equally eye-rollish while reading it.)

After that, in an attempt to not waste all the "investment" $$$ I've spent on Groupon/Lifebooker/Living Social deals, I went to get a microderm abrasion and a haircut. (For .5 seconds I made a big fuss about how I was going to cut my hair short again a la Jennifer Anniston's new long bob. Spoiler alert: My hair looks exactly the same as it did before. Sigh of relief for indecision.)

That night, after walking approximately 100 miles during the day (that's considered working out, hopefully), I met up with a certain someone who has since re-entered my life and who knows what is really going on with that, I am breezy and leaving soon so whatever, and went to said guy's friend's house for a bbq. (While texting with another guy, I literally said "I'm at a person's bbq, not sure if I'm going out after." He responded "oh a person :) " ...apparently my total lack of traceable details and/or pronouns was suspicious?)

Sunday I made a last ditch effort to maintain my "tan" and laid out along the Hudson river with Miss M. Apparently my skin had already forgot about the "tan" I got in Austin, so instead of getting nice and brown, I am sort of iridescent pink. Which is totally fine. Because at this point, much like my "relationship" with aforementioned guy, whatever. I am leaving. In 10 days. There is really no point in trying.

I wrapped up the weekend with something I've been wanting to do for a long time. I bought Tina Fey's Bossypants on my iPad. I almost finished it in one sitting. (Instead of, you know, learning German. What is my problem?!)

My Review:

I can honestly say, without a doubt, there's no way I can ever meet her in person. Do you remember that scene in Jurassic Park where the little boy goes up to Dr. Grant and starts rattling off about his book, and Dr. Grant is like 'oh lord why do weirdo children love me?!' and the little boy doesn't get the hint and follows him into the car?

That's more or less the basic idea of what would happen if Tina and I were to interact. I mean, just meeting Grizz & Dot Com proved to incredibly embarrassing. I would probably cry. I might tell her about my secret fantasy of having a boozy brunch with her and Amy Poehler, where one of them starts singing "We're the three best friends." And then we giggle about Alec, because, I mean, that guy, c'mon. Oh and then they decide to set me up with Jason Segel, because, obv we are soulmates, and they probably know him because funny people hang out together? It just makes sense. Think about all the great double triple dates we could go on! It's going to be the best!!!!!!!!!!

[.....Back to reality.]

That is a long way of saying that I like her writing and her storytelling.

Anyway, all in all, great second-to-last weekend.

OH PS: One might call me a 'fro yo connoisseur' - which is a nice way to say "you're fat" - so you should problem listen up -I tried one of the best things I've had in ages - Pinkberry Salted Caramel. Get the salt. Seriously. Done. Let me know if you need my email address so you can write me a thank you note for rocking your world. 

Keep The Crazy In

A few years back, I came up with some advice for a friend in a new relationship: "Keep the crazy in!"

She'd just started dating a guy I had set her up with, a friend of my then-boyfriend, so I was getting both sides of the gossip. "I like her, but I just can't deal with any drama." So I advised her to be on her best behavior and maybe wait until things were very settled before showing her, well, sometimes-true colors.

It has a bit of a "safari" look,
which I feel is always "in" for fall

And this mantra is something I find myself reciting on a regular basis. You see, dating in this city has made me insane. I am no longer the happy-go-lucky dater I once was. I've gone from optimistic to opportunistic. Can you say jayyy-ded? I play games. No wait, I win games. This has required me to gain a lot of patience - not my strong suit, you know - those texts don't ignore themselves (for the prerequisite amount of time as set forth by previous text response ratio)!

A little introspective analysis shows that my new view on dating stems from the fact that everyone I've met has been a flitty little Peter Pan, the world's biggest dbag, or a precious love child of the two. Everyone is full of shit, everyone makes false promises, everything ends the same.

And that's when the problems start, and my fear of wasting time and effort gets the best of me. (Clearly the new-found patience listed above only comes in limited quantities!)

Well he WILL disappoint me at some point, why not just speed things up and get to that point now? [Spilling gasoline everywhere...oh, look, matches!?]

The easiest way to self-sabotage, an art form really, is by shooting off a few CGS-fueled texts. Fine, I see you didn't respond to my last text from 30 seconds ago, clearly you hate me and/or have commitment issues, most-likely stemming from your dysfunctional family. Have a good life, I hope you find happiness you deserve with some skankface you meet via Twitter.  Nothing says to a guy "maybe instead of going to the Hampton's this weekend, she should be locked away" like an accusatory rant out of nowhere.


But you really liked him, you think to yourself, it could have been so different*. Um, yeah, you ruined it though, psychoface! Next time, reign it in! Suppress it! Lock it up!

And, for the love of god, step away from the phone.

*Small caveat: By no means, though, should you walk around wearing rose-colored glasses that camouflage red flags. You must find a balance between your Distrusting self and your Gullible self. This is when having a pragmatic friend comes in handy, one who is more discerning than you and can honestly tell you either: a) You're Being Insane or b) He is a Tool or c) All of the Above.

(That person in my life is The BFF. Miss you!)

Hands-Down, The Greatest Story Ever

Ed. note: Yesterday I alluded to the Greatest Story Ever, which was supplemented with a hilarious tale courtesy of my cousin. But today is the day for the main event. It comes to us from my friend Brooks, who has contributed this lil' ol' blog before. She has UNFORTUNATELY stopped her own blog (grr), so I of course insisted she write up this Amazing Tale and let me publish it. Because I am an opportunist the Internet NEEDS to hear it. Without further ado, I leave you with my new biggest source of jealousy: 

There are many benefits to moving out of your parents house. There is a renewed sense of pride that you can fend for yourself, there is that freshman-year-of-college adrenaline rush of freedom and independence, and in my case, there is access to what will eventually become the

best story you will ever tell.

I mean, could they be any more adorable?

I recently moved out of my parents gorgeous Hollywood home into a tiny (but awesome!) apartment in Playa Del Rey. I am two blocks from the beach, right next to work, and biking distance from my friends. But Brooks, how do you afford this paradise you speak of?? FINE. I live next door to the airport.

Regardless, last Friday (or THE Friday as I now remember it), I went home around 4PM to let my dog Miles. Miles is amazing. He is a 1 year old chocolate dachshund who is as kind as he is beautiful and you should probably friend him on Facebook. He's the closest thing I have to a boyfriend and that is fine. by. me.

Anyway, I hurry to my house in the late afternoon, grab my precious pooch, and take him out to do some quick business so I can get back to work. Now, my apartment is situated on a pretty busy street, and where Miles "gets to it" is on a grassy knoll right off the curb. This normally makes me pretty neurotic/nervous, but today it was PERFECT.

Clearly Kate loves dogs.
Clearly Brooks and I love Kate AND dogs.
Clearly we should all be best friends.

So I'm outside, impatiently waiting for Miles to whip it out, when I notice a bunch of really aggressive policemen pulling people aside and stopping traffic. "WTF," I think to myself, "Why is LAPD so terrible". Growing increasingly curious, I asked my old lady neighbor to explain the situation. "Didn't you see the news?" (no...) "The royals are coming in town today--William and Kate. They just landed at LAX. They are coming right now."

UM SCREW WORK I AM WAITING HERE AS LONG AS IT TAKES. Before I know it, what I now recognize as the royal brigade starts inching down my street. After the initial police cars, I begin to see Range Rover after Range Rover roll past me. Oh we're in the big leagues now. And I am staked out--eyes glowing like a gd hawk, waiting for my Favorite Couple Ever to show up. Then (omg), in the distance (omg), in a gleaming gold Range Rover (omg), I see Her. Omg!!!

Before I can even realize what's happening, I make eye contact with Her and start smiling and waving like a maniac. She is so polite (typical Kate!!!) and smiles right back and waves at me too--a little more gentile. But holy mother of god I AM HAVING A MOMENT WITH KATE MIDDLETON. I'm seeing our future best friendship flashing before my eyes; playdates at the palace, shopping trips with Pippa, my hot make out with Harry. But all of the sudden, I notice that her expression changes. I realize that she is laughing. And more than that, she is pointing down. Right by my feet...

I look down to realize a) I need to shave b) oh yeah, Miles is here too and c) OH MY GOD MILES DAVIS IS IN THE MIDDLE OF DROPPING A DEUCE and oh yeah, d) HE JUST DID THIS IN FRONT OF THE FUTURE QUEEN OF ENGLAND!!! Well, clearly I flipped the eff out and screamed at Miles, scaring whatever shit was left out of him. But it was too late, for Kate and Will were far in the distance, headed to what I would later learn was the Beverly Hilton. I just stood there, totally helpless, as the rest of the brigade of British secret service men pointed and laughed at me/Miles/America/my kind of ugly apartment building. And then I started laughing so hard I thought I was going to pee myself, until I looked at Miles and thought to myself "Touche".

If only Miles was wearing this
little number...if only...

Sooooo yeahhhhh! WELCOME TO AMERICA KATE!!!!!! Sorry about my dog...he's German and doesn't know better?! I'd like to think that it was some socio-political statement that Miles was making that day--that he was trying to show Kate Middleton what he thought of monarchy, Parliament and American ideals. I'd like to think that's what my 13 pound puppy that is the animal kingdom's equivalent to a midget was doing. But you know what I KNOW he was doing? He was doing his f*cking business in the grass BECAUSE I POTTY

TRAINED HIM LIKE A BOSS.

Sorry I'm not sorry, Kate. Text me!

Needless to say, that is the greatest story ever, right? I mean, there are just no words. Other than "When will my day come when I a) have a dog, b) have a dog that helps me bond with the Number One Girl Crush in the World?" 


Thanks, Brooks!! I'm really rooting for you and Harry!

Soaking It All Up

"Christmas card" is a fun thing I like to
say while taking pics w/o
key members of the family.

My trip home for Mother's Day was great, but it was short, and my extended stay home during the holidays was focused on Christmas and my brother's wedding.

What I really needed was a week back home to soak it all in. Absorb the little things, like eating dinner with my parents, sharing stories. (Um did you know I like to tell stories? It runs in the family.) Being around for potluck dinners and catching up with the friends who know me better than almost anyone else.

I continued the trend on Friday and headed to Houston with my mom. We have a lot of history on that drive on I-10, each summer for as long as I can remember. We'd use that time to plan my birthday parties (duh, they all had themes), discuss the upcoming school year, and talk things to death. This was no exception, although most of my answers about my upcoming Germany Journey were "I have no idea" or "Wouldn't it be nice to know the answer to that question."

Ahhh sweet LITTLE Dolo.

My friend Cabs came over for dinner that night to meet the infamous Dolo. According to her, "he is a great conversationalist," but we already knew that, didn't we?

The next day I headed to my friend Lauren's bridal shower - seeing my little match.mom success story opening pots and pans really brought a tear to my eye. (I decided she'd get plenty of those, so instead I bypassed the registry and got her a taste of NYC...the very same underwear-handcuffing Bendel's bracelet I love.)

She is going to make a beautiful bride.

After a fun day at her fiance's pool (you know you've got a keeper when he's happily willing to spend the entire afternoon with you and your gal pals), I headed back to Dolo's for another home-cooked meal. (This sort of thing isn't normally in our "Grandmother visit wheel house" so it was a nice change of pace.)

There my cousin Alicia came over and told me THE GREATEST STORY EVER, which I'm trying to get her friend to type up for your reading pleasure. (Hint, hint!) And later on her sister Kristen joined us too. The two of them aren't just cousins, they're "sisters in the bond" and also my friends, which of course means they're fun AND funny (and pretty). SO happy I got to see you both!!

I left on Sunday afternoon with a slight tan (woo hoo!) and a week's worth of memories. It was a perfect trip.

...Okay, I realize that telling you about a really great story yet not actually telling you it is such a tease move so I'll leave you with another funny tale in the mean time:

This is what we call the "au naturale" look.

My cousin Kristen (pink mumu) just got back from six weeks studying abroad in Spain. Having not taken Spanish since mid-high school, needless to say she's not quite fluent. This was fairly apparent from the get-go but she was still giving it a shot.

One day she and her roommate were walking around town and went into a store with clothes hanging in the window, with prices attached to them.

The shopkeeper came up to them, and Kristen told her that they were just browsing. She started to go through the racks of clothes and was pretty disappointed by the selection. Not very much was cute, a lot of it matronly.

And plus there was the weird deal that the clothes were all individually wrapped in plastic.

The store owner came over again, you know, speaking in Spanish, and Kristen and her friend assured her they were fine.

Then it dawned on her.

They were at a dry cleaner. Rifling through people's clothes. 


HAHAHAHAHAH.

God I can't wait to live in a foreign country.

Thanks, KK, for letting me share. This is why I love you! Miss everyone already!

The Best Of Times

It has been really shocking to me how easily I have fallen into the role of a Stay at Home Person. Who knew that leisurely scheduling coffee dates and attending eating activities with those close to me would come so naturally? Oh right, everyone sensed I might have that skill. 

In addition to my Mozart's date with my new friend Jenni, I've caught up with my aunt and uncle at the Steeping Room, a friend at Tacos & Tequila (which might have earned itself a spot on my fave Austin restaurants roster), coffee with a childhood friend (who is also a great wedding photographer, if you're in the market check out Addison Studios), and last night I topped it off in a big way.

I realize that sororities get a bad name (sometimes deservedly) but I truly bought the best friends money can buy. I am not ashamed of this. While our entire group of pals sadly wasn't in town, four of us got together to throw a going away party for our friend Natalie who got married last summer.

An evening spent eating, laughing, and reminiscing...about the time I made out with one of the groomsmen at her wedding. What better way to spend my last night in town?

Your wedding ruled.

Finally, someone who can handle her.

Hostess with the mostess.

I understand my food photography is not up to par,
but trust me, it was delicious.

Our hostess, my beauty expert Mary, made delicious homemade pizzas and strawberry rhubarb crumble. Mere's boytoy brought shrimp n' cheese stuffed, bacon-wrapped jalepeños. I made fruit salad and my (in)famous "Chino" dip. (My college BF's mom taught me how to make this bean dip, which I made once for a OC-watching - I miss that show! - potluck in college..coined after Ryan's ghetto neighborhood...it has somehow become my specialty. Literally: 2 cans of refried beans, 1 packet taco seasoning, 1 package of cream cheese, 1 small container of sour cream, mix, sprinkle shredded cheese on top, bake at 350 for 20ish minutes.) And now we all know why this is not more of a foodie/recipe blog despite all the cooking I do. So ghetto.

Great minds think alike.

Keatikens and Natsky.

Anyway where were we? Oh right, I was just gushing about how it was the perfect evening. A throwback to a simpler time when we all lived in the sorority house together...only this time with the addition of a few boyfriend/husband types. 

Those girls have seen me at my best...but more often at my worst (if you call "most awesomely fun and least responsible" my worst). I know that no matter what happens, wherever I am or they are in the world, whenever we get together, it will be a great time. 

Love y'all. And I would promise that one day you can retaliate and makeout with someone in my wedding party, but I have a feeling you might all be taken by then. Unless things go very well in Germany...joking.

"Loyally" until the next reunion! 

And The Streak Continues

{All pictures courtesy of Jenni,
Story of My Life}

Once upon a time, I sent out a plea to make new girlfriends. And (former) blogger Elle responded. Long story short, I now count her as one of my closest friends. Then she introduced me to Miss M and two other close girlfriends, pyramid scheme of friends if you will (I mean that in the nicest sense of the term, obv).

And the Blogosphere is to thank for another new friend I made today. In an effort to keep myself busy with activities other than learning German, I reached out to the adorable Jenni from Story of My Life to see if she wanted to meet for a coffee "blate" (blog date) while I was in town.

The closest thing to a "what I wore" outfit shot
this lil blog will see. Sigh. 

I stumbled on Jenni's blog a few months back. Any blog that has tab about her love story is BAD NEWS for this Girl Who Cried Soulmate. (Please everyone stop whatever "work" you are doing and go read all the chapters immediately, which include a story about watching Serendipity on a whirlwind romantic trip to NYC. Otherwise known as the most awesome thing ever.)

So after I emailed Jenni, I waited with baited breath. OMG what if she's not interested?!?! What if she's too cool for me? What if she rejects me!? I'm very sensitive, you know.

Luckily, though, she said yes! And then, to add to the excitement, she suggested to we meet at Mozart's, a favorite hangout of High School Rachel.

Jenni was just as sweet, smart and fun as I'd guessed she would be. Oh, and she's so freaking STUNNING it's almost painful. (I mean, let's be honest, all of my friends are pretty so duh it just makes sense we got along.)

Anyway, unlike some lazy/terrible bloggers like moi, Jenni is also a great photographer. The words, "I hope you don't mind me taking some pictures of you" just made me laugh. Oh dear sweet new friend, you clearly have not met the Solo Shot Queen yet. 

Hopefully this new-found streak of "making an effort to make new friends" will keep on going as I prepare to, you know, move to a foreign country. But at least, if nothing else, I have a new pal to visit whenever I come back to Austin.

Thanks again, Jenni, for a fun morning!

The Way Our Founding Fathers Would Have Wanted It

USA, USA

I haven't had a good ol' fashioned Fourth of July in years. Last year I was in Atlantic City getting thrown out of night club VIP sections for refusing the advances of a vampiric quasi-midget. Another year it was spent at the most miserable brunch of my life in the Hampton's.

So this year - knowing I will soon be leaving for Deutschland (24 days to be exact) - I vowed to soak it in. In God's country. (That is probably the most redneck thing I've ever said, sorry.)

In typical "I Suck At Traveling" Rachel fashion, I flew home on Saturday morning at 7 am, after having to jump through hoops because my carry-on bag was too big. (Have you ever seen someone be forced to attempt to shove their bag in that little metal box at security to see if it would fit in the over-head bin? If so, that was me. Wearing a fedora. And a nautical-themed outfit. It was awkward.)

My beloved Keaton, who I could not be happier to have seen three times in two months, fetched me from the airport since my parents were out of town. We lunched at Chuy's (one of my top three Tex-Mex restaurants thanks to their glorious creamy japeleno dip) and later laid out by her pool.

That night we went out with friends to one of Brad Womack's West 6th street bars (which always makes me uncomfortable because if I were to see him in person, I'd be forced to relive all those wasted months of watching him go on picnics). It was there I shared my recently discovered talent: Determining dog's celebrity doppelgangers  Fact: My family's dog Jesse looks like Morgan Freeman. I assume this is a lucrative talent to have.

The next day, my little younger brother Eric took us out on the boat. With the exception of the portion of my back that was neglected sunscreen, it turned out to be a lovely day.

My parents came back in town that night and indulged my one desire for the Fourth: Water balloon fight on Lake Austin. This tradition was one of my favorite holiday memories growing up. Unfortunately it has shrunk in participation size over the years, but it was still fun. I definitely dominated, if you consider water balloon fight domination to mean "whoever can throw the most balloons that land directly next-to-instead-of-on your target boat."

That afternoon I joined Keaton and her roommate for a fun Fourth party, coming back home just in time for a cookout with my other brother and his wife. We went on the boat one more time for good measure. Yes, if you're counting that is three times in two days. Life is good.

The only black cloud hanging over the weekend was the burn ban in place due to a severe drought. So my dad and I watched the televised fireworks in Boston. Not the same, not the same. But after all that fun packed into the weekend, I was fine to fall asleep on the couch.

I'll be in Austin for the rest of the week, soaking up time home, hanging out with friends and family, and "learning German" (no one seems to think I'll do any actual work while I'm here but oh knows, maybe I'll surprise us all).

Hope everyone else had a great holiday weekend too!