Our Nation's Capital: Full of Cute Girls & Good Food

I had an amazing time in D.C. – the first stop on my whirlwind Rachel’s World Tour (yes that is the name of my mom’s Facebook album dedicated to it).

My hostess with the mostess Mere – a former college roommate – was awesome per usual. Minus the fact she felt compelled to stock her fridge full of delicious treats for me. Although she was trying to be healthy, there really is nothing too dietetic about using turkey pepperonis as chip substitutes for an entire container of humus at 1 a.m.

Not only did she feed me incredibly well (she took me to one of the best brunch spots I’ve EVER been – Tabard Inn for those of you visiting D.C. any time soon), but she also arranged for us to borrow her boss’ adorable French bulldog Lola to take on a walk around the Capitol.

Now that’s friendship.

Don’t Lola and I make a cute couple? That play date has further fueled my “I NEED A DOG” fire.

While I was in our nation’s capital, I was also reminded of something: The farther south you go, the higher the concentration of pretty girls. Not that I’m saying there aren’t cute girls up north, but being in D.C. – at a Pat Green, King of Texas country, concert no less – it was overwhelming. And a good incentive to stay in New York. Just kidding, but seriously, sort of.

To prove this theory, Texas is even more chock full of pretty girls than D.C. My high school was not only notorious for high school football domination and daddy’s money snobbery, but also for our extremely high percentage of attractive ladies. Then I moved on to the University of Texas – the sorority scene no less – which was practically a beauty pageant. No, that doesn't hurt your self-esteem at all...

There’s just something about girls who pride themselves with being put together, wearing make-up and doing their hair - something lots of Yankees don’t seem to understand or make a high priority. So when you find other cute girls in New York, it’s important to befriend them immediately (if for nothing else than to have a few good wingwomen or FoF’s to set up with guys you know). Hence why Elle and I have become good friends!

And, since I love matchmaking, I set up Mere with Em (Elle's DC DYFU counterpart), and they’ve become buddies! So fun to all hang out together, although they were witnesses to me ordering the Kill It Skillet at brunch before I headed to the airport. Because before a long day of traveling, you obviously should consume a bowl of macaroni and cheese topped with bacon, chorizo, truffled shoe string potatoes, AND a fried egg. Childhood obesity is a real thing. Although I was reminded by a sweet younger friend that when I turn 25 in August, I will be in my late 20s. Fml.

All in all, it was a fantastic trip. And, Mere, your apartment smells fantastic! (Mere loves nice-smelling things, and when we lived together, she would always light UNATTENDED candles at our parties, and I would always run around blowing them out. And then she would run around screaming at me. Awww memories).

I Suck at Traveling

While I'm patiently waiting - currently stranded in Detroit on my way back to New York thanks to some sort of giant monsoonish inconvenience - I'm reminded of the other dumbass travel scenarios I've gotten myself involved in other the past few years.

Unlike this bout of bad luck, which is no way under my control, I am typically stranded due to my own attempts to make life harder for myself. Because sometimes I just think that life is, maybe, too easy for me.

Okay, that is just what I tell myself when I do stupid things that result in way more time and effort than are necessary. It is also what I tell myself when my crippling frugality rears its ugly head, causing me to make an idiotic decision amounting to mass personal inconvenience.

The worst instance of this took place soon after I moved to New York. My first job paid approximately one dollar. Well, one dollar in pre-Recession New York money. I was so close to the poverty-line that my friend working on her Master's in Social Work alerted me to the fact I could probably qualify for food stamps based on my socioeconomic standing. I told her that unless I could use food stamps at Happy Hour, I wasn't going to resort to that.

So, due to this and the fact that airfare is not free, when my first friend got married that June, paying for a flight home for the wedding was a major expenditure in my budget. When I looked at flights online, it was about $100 cheaper to fly out of Philly than one of the NYC airports. Having had a friend fly into Philly to take advantage of a free Southwest flight (pre-La Guardio route days), I knew it was a possibility (albeit inconvenient), but $100 seemed like enough money to be worth it.

Because I'm a genius (and was possibly drunk from one of my typical Happy Hour outings when I was far cooler and more social than I am now), I went ahead and booked the flight from Philly to Dallas - scheduled to leave super early on a Friday and return late on a Sunday - without bothering to check the NJ Transit tain schedule.

Like I said, I'm a genius.

Turns out there was no way I could get to or from Philly on the cheap train I had planned on due to the timing. I was forced to pony up over $150 on a roundtrip Amtrak ticket just to be able to make use of my non-refundable plane ticket.

Yeah, F.M.L.

Oh, that hassle and extra cost would have been enough penance, but no, oh no. The entire weekend was a swirling tornado of fun and excitement, but the entire time in the back of my mind I secretly worried about having to take an 11 p.m. train out of the sketch-tastic Philly train station alone.

But luckily things got worse, which was awesome since I love learning life lessons the hard way! I got to the train station just in time to learn that our train was broken down in Washington D.C. hours away. There was a zero percent chance of me getting home any other way, and I was thus forced to do my least favorite thing ever: waiting.

I talked to my mom and then The BFF on the phone until it was their respective bedtimes. Must have been nice. I could barely keep my tired eyes open, one of the most painful struggles when all you want to do is pass out. Since I didn't know when exactly the train would be arriving, I couldn't set an alarm to wake me up. But I knew there was no way I could stay awake.

So I did what any genius would do. I positioned myself in front of the most normal-looking couple I could find (slim pickings) because it is scientifically proven that a couple is way less likely to rape or mug you for your $5 in cash and travel pillow you've lugged around all weekend.

Thank God I did, though, because I passed out, and the next thing I remember, the guy was awkwardly trying to wake me up. I shuffled my arm-full of belongings down to the track to board.

And, while I 'minded the gap' as I went through the door, I watched in slow-motion horror as my beloved travel pillow - my last semblance of comfort - fell through the six-inch crack.

The hour-and-a-half train ride was spent in uncomfortable misery. I finally got home before 3 a.m. Monday morning.

I'll be honest, that was a pretty traumatizing incident for me. I mean, I had done it to myself. After that I was careful to book more convenient travel arrangements for about a year, when a once-in-a-lifetime Hawaii trip fell into my lap. The perfect storm for an adult spring break came to be through a free place to stay on the North Shore, 6 extra vacation days to use up, and my tax rebate.

Except, when I booked my flight through Atlanta, I somehow missed '24 hours of travel' notice. Apparently they expected me to land in the ATL at 11 p.m. then fly out the next morning.

At that point, I realized I could pay for a few short hours in a hotel or inconvenience local family to drive all the way to fetch me only to turn around to dump me back off. Plus I justified that I'm young and agile, or something. How many years of this sort of crap do I have left?

So I roughed it one night in the airport. I survived. It was slightly creepy, and super annoying when the cleaning crew showed up and started chattering away at 5 a.m., but oh well.

Those memories haunt me as I now wait for my future. Am I going to shell out the funds for my non-airline-comped hotel room? Or am I going to grasp at my youth and curl up in a chair hoping to hop on the next flight out?

Guess we'll see after I have a few a few dranks at the airport bar with my new friends (who are all in college and whining about missing spring break - again, FML).

Oh traveling, what a fickle mistress you are.

Bon Voyage

As I mentioned yesterday, things have worked out pretty peachy, and it's allowed me to throw together a last minute Rachel World Tour. By world tour, I mean 3 stops in the U.S., but still, I feel like quite a Jet Setter. Slash Bolt Bus setter.

I'd already planned to visit Mere, one of my BFFs/College Roommates/Partners In Crime/Sister's For Life, in D.C. this weekend (along with the dynamic duo from Do You Fancy Us!!!!!!!) After reading my two-page itinerary sent to be my amazing hostess (the greatest gift I could get), it seems The District won't know what hit 'em.

From there I'm flying off to the ATX (Austin, TX for those not in the know) for a few days. I'm prob the only person going to Austin in March not for SXSW, but I get to see my fam, some more BFFs (and one's new bf!) AND JESSE (see photo, he's really enthusiastic about our friendship too), which is better. I promise.

Then I'm headed to Houston to see DOLO, my super awesome grandma, and more of my amazing BFFs. I.can.not.wait.to.see.everyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you could not tell from my 1,000,000 exclamation points, I'm gidddddddddy with excitement. High on life, my friends, high on life.

Hopefully I'll be a diligent little blogger while I'm gone, but, let's be honest, we should all have pretty low expectations about that.

Maybe some of you funny people out there should send me something to post. Cough cough, hint hint.

XOXO

The End of an Era

Tomorrow is my last day at the job I've had for two years. It's the end of an era.

And I couldn't be more excited.

The short version of a long story is that this job was like my First Love. First job in New York, first job out of school. The honeymoon phase was intoxicating (literally - OMG work happy hours! I love my coworkers!), and then it became familiar, and then it became clear it wasn't what I wanted for myself. It was about a year ago when I realized this job wasn't The One. I've made some great friends who will be my friends no matter where I'm working, and, let's be honest, there are some people I'd be fine never seeing again. I'm talking to you, Jersey. Just kidding!

But breakups are hard. And breakups are really hard if the relationship pays your rent. You don't dump your Sugar Daddy in the midst of a recession.

A mixture of soul-searching and that whole 'highest unemployment rate in for-ev-er' thing created job hunting gridlock. A long time ago, I complained about how the similarities between interviewing and dating were making me crazy. The initial excitement, the patience, the built-up hopes, the longing, the agony, the defeat. I'll be honest, it sucked. The good news is I got tons o' good interview experience. For a small fee (or snack), I will share some lessons.

The thing is, though, I'm not unique with my QLC. There's a great article here that will make you feel better (or maybe worse) about our generation's struggles. When I started my What the F to Do With My Life journey, I wanted something totally different. Or maybe I did? I thought about it? Who knows what exactly I wanted, but I just needed a change. I didn't necessarily know what would make me happy, and I spent a long time trying on different job ideas that could possibly shift me back to Not Wanting to Kill Myself. My family, friends and J were more tolerant, helpful and supportive than I deserved, and for that, I'm so appreciative.

What I've ended up choosing is actually a job that is somewhat similar to what I do now, but with a different focus that I think will better suit me. And I'm honestly really excited. It also helps me feel like I didn't waste the past two years of my life filling my brain with healthcare-related mumbo jumbo.

I started the year with positive thoughts, and everything has worked out better than I could have imagined.

For that, I am blessed and grateful.

I'm ready for the next chapter in my life.

Hopefully a chapter that does not involve The BFF taking pictures of me posing like a rodent.

Namedropping: Way Cooler If You're the One Doing It

364 days of the year, I hang out with commoners. Well, bitches, last night I stepped it up to the big time.

Let's make a short list of things I love:

1) Exclusive functions
2) Passed hors d'oeuvres
3) Celebrity sightings
4) Open bar
5) Buffets

Oh, what do you know, last night included all of those things. Plus, free popcorn and Diet Coke! And an invitation to a private after party at Chuck Bass' Empire Hotel. What do I have to show for it? A headache. And a picture of me with a celebrity!

Now that you're already super jealous, I guess I should tell you what exactly you should be jealous of!

Well, because I know people - by people I mean J's lululemon-wearing roommate Frank's awesome sister (who is legit people) - I scored an invite to the premiere of Brooklyn's Finest.

Having never been to a movie premiere, I was excited just to go see the film. But it gets better. When you live by the Snoozing Equals Losing mantra, you tend to be aggressively early to events such as this. After securing our spots in line for Will Call, we got our tickets and Frank's sister seated us in some of the best seats in the house. The paper placeholders directly across the aisle from us read:

Ethan Hawke

Wesley Snipes

Aweeeesome. Then I ate an entire bag of popcorn. Less awesome. Then I had some string cheese (like I said, I know people). Awesome. Then I watched as people started to fill in seats, including - OMG - Grizz and Dot Com aka Tracy Jordan's entourage on my fav show 30 Rock. Way awesome.

So, there I was, watching celebrities watch themselves (which is weird), getting a reminder of: a) Why I don't go to non-hipster Brooklyn, b) Why I am not a cop, c) Why being a drug dealer isn't really a great idea if you want to live.

Life lessons!

We all enjoyed the movie (it's intense - Training Day's Antoine Fuqua directed it), and then we made our way down the street to the Empire Hotel.

In case you're not cool and you don't watch Gossip Girl (returning next week, thank God!!), Chuck Bass - my close friend - bought the hotel on the show to be the base of his "empire" and to prove something to his dead dad Bart Bass.

Guess who was one of the first people I spotted at the party?

Bart Bass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

J tried to encourage me to go up to him with a straight face and say "It's so great to see you; I thought you were dead!" But luckily I had not yet had any liquid courage, so that helped me from becoming THAT girl.

Fast forward through buffet trip numero uno, me thinking that Grey Goose & waters were the way to go, making friends with the waiter passing mini crab cakes and Kobe beef sliders. Oh, and tons o' fames milling around. Sadly most celebs cooped up on an enclosed balcony that felt like the rainforest (well, at least the Moody Garden's Galveston version I went to as a child). I think that's where Star Jones was hiding, but honestly I don't think I'd recognize her non-fat self. Anyway, not worth gawking if you're sweating profusely IMO.

While other celeb sightings were exciting (Don Cheadle!), I still couldn't stop thinking about how I wanted to talk to Grizz and Dot Com because: A) I have issues separating TV from "reality" when it comes to my fav shows, B) They know Tina Fey. Meeting them would be like meeting Tina. Well, if Tina were a large black man. Also, I cannot even fathom the levels of unsurpassed awkwardness that would be reached if I ever met her based on the following interaction.

J being the sweet, not-totally-awkward-celebrity-interactor that he is, brought Grizz over to say hi to me. IMO, I was ambushed. Or that is at least my reason for giggling like a tiny child. Seriously, it was so embarrassing. I couldn't form words, much less a sentence in front of this giant bear of a man and all of J's friends. Luckily, though, Grizz could not have been any nicer. J assured me that since I'm a cute girl he was flattered. Maybe I was the one to assure myself that. I don't remember. Again, vodka waters.

Later in the night, we went over to say hi to Dot Com, who was wearing an amazing, super long white pin stripe suit. He was talking to Cedric the Entertainer (unrecognizably svelte!). Dot Com was nice enough to pose for a pic.

Anyway, the night was amazing. I also had an ephiphany: I belong in super fun awesome exclusive parties, and people should probably invite me to more of them. Just throwing that out there.

After another quick stop by the buffet (yummy short ribs were going to waste!), J and I made our exit around 1 a.m. (it was a school night, and also I'm a grandma, so that was like 6 a.m. for us). We got in the elevator with another couple, and I attempted to press the button for our penthouse descent. Except I was having trouble because the button with the * next to it wasn't the ground floor. Tricky. Also, The Vodka. The other guy helped me out, and I turned around to find myself face to face with a pretty blonde woman and her husband.

"OHMYGOD YOU'RE COCO!" I shrieked. Then I looked at her husband, "AND THAT MAKES YOU ICE-T."

"I rapped to your songs at my bar mitzvah!" J chimed in.

"I'm sorry your butt cleavage pics gotten taken down on Twitter!" I added, since I had literally just read about it on Perez Hilton earlier in the day. She asked me if I "followed" her. I do now!

In case you're not familiar with her, Coco is probably the most famous rapper wife, known primarily for her great assets to humanity. She was very pretty in real life, although a little too "Citrus American" (J's description of those bearing the orange Snooki glow).

What a small world. Me and famous people just shootin' the shit on the way out of a super fun awesome exclusive party in New York. Ain't no thang.

Then J and I went to his place, watched an old DVR'd episode of 30 Rock and polished off a bag of tortilla chips since I didn't get enough food...?

I'm sure that's exactly what Ice-T and Coco did too!

P Dot S: Hint Hint

Revenge: Best Served in Tiny Specks That Will Stick in Your Carpet

Gather 'round for story time. Ever wondered

Craft Corner (I'm a Giant Nerd)

I read a lot of blogs. A lot. All different topics, really. News tidbits (Gawker, NY Mag Daily Intel), Celebrity Gossip blogs, friends' blogs (Do You Fancy Us, Tex and the City, The.Well.Set, Could Be A Crackhead y many mas), Cooking Blogs (Kiss My Spatula, Sugar Laws), Dating/Girlie Blogs (Lemon Drop), Mommy Blogs - weird I know, but some are hilarious! (Dooce, Mommy Wants Vodka), and last but not least, Design blogs (Apartment Therapy, A Cup of Jo, Design Sponge, You Are My Fave, Sweet Designs, and much more..). These are my newest obsession. When it comes down to it, I lurve pretty things. No, I'm not anywhere close to as talented as these people, but I cannot help but lusting over their ideas.

A la Costanza, I too would make Marine Biologist and Architect my top two fake careers choices. And along the lines of architecture, I have always had a love for interior decorating, for making a home beautiful and unique.

So really, the point is, having this new apartment has been my newest project, and I could not be more excited to have a "canvas" to make pretty. The other day I even excused myself from hanging out with J and his friends because I had crafts to attend to! Crafts don't craft themselves! I'm not the only one taking the time to make this a home, The BFF has transformed her room into what I now refer to as a "secret garden" - literally there are flowers everywhere, either in fake form, picture form, duvet form - but it truly looks magnificent! - and not too over-done.

When I posted here, the awesome, new apartment wasn't yet finished. I don't know if you give a crap or not what my apartment walls look like, but sorry, I'm going to show you my hard work anyway (plus I know my mom will appreciate it):

[Note: Sorry these pics aren't great quality - they were taken with my phone, so they're not as nice as I would obviously prefer. Also, one of my major failures in life is the ability to hang pictures straight, and that, coupled with the fact our apartment is legit slanted (just like that episode of Lily & Marshall's in How I Met Your Mother!!), it is super noticeable. Please don't judge too harshly.]

Front wall:

Thanks, Santa, for my new TV! The BFF and I are like the children I'd always love to babysit: glued in front of it and well-behaved. I wanted something above it, so I found a few Papyrus cards to frame and then some beautiful paper from an art supply/design store. (It took me 20 minutes to buy the bird paper, 15 minutes of which I spent hyperventilating because of everything else I fell in love with.)

I don't love birds as animals, but I do like birds as design elements.

Pink frame from T.J. Maxx (great place to get cheap frames!) and Papyrus card, which has cute apothecary jars with little labels).

Similar card, similar frame.

Shadow Box:

This is when things got really crafty. I found this "shadow box" - actually a drawer! - on the street with another piece of wood that I'd hoped was a frame. I brought it home JIC I could use it, then painted it grey with our leftover trim paint and voila a cute little decorative shelf. I haven't decided what I'm doing with the paint colors yet, but I've always loved sample strips so I might leave them as is. 

I think Honey Bears are so cute, and filled this one with fake Blue Bonnet (state flower of Texas) petals my mom sent me like two years ago. Little bird cut-out here and on the mini-canvas too.

Someday I want a real fish in one of those vases, not just a stuffed animal. The BFF and I need to "keep something alive" to prove our capacity for responsibility.

Side Wall:

I wanted to incorporate some bolder colors, and really liked this red Keep Calm poster. The chandelier pic is a Papyrus card.

Other Side Wall:

My paternal grandmother was a great painter, and I brought these two cloud landscapes of hers back with me after one of my last trips. The Flatiron painting was a gift from my wonderful friend Ash. She bought it for me for Christmas (WHEN WE WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO EXCHANGE GIFTS, BIATCH), and it turned out to randomly be from the exact artist in Union Square I had considered buying from before. Fate! The frame for that is actually the other piece of wood I found (which turned out to be a cabinet face, not a frame, but it worked perfectly to mount the canvas on).

Book Shelf:

Great to have the space to exhibit my 1000 scarves, movie collection (missing very important RomCom DVDs suspected to be stolen by Kris), books, etc. Note the bottom shelf contains my super awesome wicker picnic baskets I scored from the give-away pile at my old apt. WHO WOULD GET RID OF THOSE BEAUTIES!?!

Coffee table:

I bought this Ikea table off Craigslist, hoping to paint it. That peeled off so I was at a loss of what to do with it. I had to make it work. Partially due to the Olympics, plus I've seen a lot of maps used in recent decorating trends - I was feeling very global - so I thought covering it in a world map was cool. And the colors help tie everything together nicely.

And there you have it, hope you enjoyed this tour of "Four Walls and a Coffee Table." Stay tuned for whatever a-mazing project I get myself involved with next.