Saturday, May 31, 2008

see you on the flip side

today has been hiding boys in my closet and diplomas and chocolate cake and absinthe. 

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

hallelujah!

FINALLY, Carolina Herrera and Jean Paul Gaultier have created an item of clothing I have been absolutely dying to have; a $500-1000 wife beater! I mean really, the wife beater, also known as  'ribbed white tank' is such a classy staple in my wardrobe, it was a shame that the only way you could get them until now was in packs of three. AND to make matters even more exciting, they're on sale at Saks! You can get this cashmere blend beauty for a mere $714, down from (and I swear to god I'm not kidding) $1190.  And if that doesn't full satisfy your craving for gray, drab, shirts that look like you accidentally tossed a white top in the washing machine with blue jeans then just snap up this little item for a couple hundred dollars extra ($201 to be exact, down from $335). I mean really, you can never have too many semi-sheer shapeless shirts, can you? 
both available at saks.com. hurry before they're all gone!

don't mock me

Today is "Mock Interview Day" at "Job Search Camp." Which means I get to dress up in my slightly ill-fitting Banana Republic suit, squeeze my muffin top into control top L'eggs (does it have two Gs? that seems weird), and awkwardly talk about how awesome am I (with examples and LOTS of action verbs). Death. For someone so self absorbed (I mean, in my defense I am 20 years old; wouldn't it be weird if I wasn't?), I hate shit like this. Networking. Small talk. "Chit-Chat." Just give me a task to do and I'll do it; do we really need to talk about "a time when I attempted something and failed but used initiative to resolve the situation?"

Friday, May 23, 2008

an open letter

Dear J. Crew:
No one loves you more than me. Really, it's true. Even though you've jacked up your prices on everything and for some reason your pants never seem to fit me no matter how many times my body shape changes (I've literally tried on a pair of jeans every year since I was 13), I keep coming back again and again because your stuff is so cute and you manage to make me spend a bunch of money or random things on sale instead of saving up for the pieces I REALLY want. BUT ENOUGH ABOUT ME, this letter is about you and your new venture; yoga clothes! Let me begin by saying I love love love trying new things, and I'm really excited that you want to keep things interesting and branch out. But let me remind you, you're J. Crew. This is like eight years ago or so when GAP decided they were going to be "trendy," and did away with the khakis and the oxfords and instead made some really tragic tiered ruffle skirts and polyester confections. Go back to your roots! Make plaid things! $48 for "yoga shorts," that are EXACTLY like my $7.99 ones from Dicks? Come on, that's just not good business. If I'm going to spend ridiculous amounts of money on yoga clothes it's going to come from a legit yoga outfitter, or at least somewhere like LuLuLemon so the omega symbol will let everyone know that even though my Tree Pose is uber wobbly, I'm crazy enough to succumb to "overpriced sportswear" so you better watch it. ANYWAYS, what I'm trying to say is that you need to let this line go; don't you have critter chinos to design?
XOXO,
Hannah


anger management part two

Things that are currently bugging me at this exact moment:
  1. Tomorrow morning I will wake up at 7 am in order to go to a job searching workshop in which I will listen to one participant (we'll call him "MOB" for "most obnoxious boy") say things like "well...I'm not sure what field I want a job in but I know I want to work in an office. And make a stable income. But I don't really want an authoritative boss because I really don't like have to follow rules and do what people tell me to do. Maybe I'd like to work for the cancer prevention institute of Canada, but I'm really more interested in preventing things that fixing them, you know? That's really more of my personality. But yeah, I'd really like to work with people. Oh, and having health insurance and benefits is really important to me." 
  2. Due to a combination of my insomnia and cleanliness OCD, I just cleaned my bathroom at 2:00 am. Also, I have never taken a bath in my bathtub because it never seems clean enough to me (boys lived here before my roommate and I...gross). 
  3. I'm a huge pill popper. I mean not like, fun stuff or anything, I just seem to take a lot of meds. Today for example I have taken: 1 imitrex (migraine this morning, see above about waking up at 7 am this week), 3 advils, 1 birth control pill (don't even bother to ask if I'm having sex, my doctor even finds this question funny nowadays. the script is from my dermatologist), 1 synthroid (hypothyroid), 2 multivitamins, 1 iron supplement (vegetarian). That's EIGHT pills. I mean, I know three are vitamins, and I don't always take that many advil but still, EIGHT? I really need to start focusing on mored balanced eating (more fruits and veggies, less brownies with mini m&ms baked in) so I don't have to chemically correct. 
  4. That on Tuesday I listened to a CNN correspondent talk about how everyone in Kentucky voted for Clinton because she does better with uneducated, racist, middle class people. Um...hello! You may think we're all obese high school dropouts that live in trailers but we are smart enough to have hooked up a cable box (or attached a huge ass satellite dish to the aforementioned trailer) so could you at least pretend  that we're not in the room when talking trash about us! It's like overhearing a girl say "ugh, who is that girl that [my 12th grade boyfriend, who went to a different school] brought with him? who the hell does she think she is showing up in a dress like that (for the record, it's not my fault that at 17 I already grasped that satin Jessica McLintock dresses with corset laces in the back were not super attractive and had worn a knee length dress) to our winter formal?" while I was in the bathroom stall at his dance and having to go back out and try not overcompensate because I felt like such an outsider. 

anger management

I have rage issues. Leah, you can stop laughing at what an understatement that is at any moment. Anyways, like I said, I have serious issues with getting extremely agitated unnecessarily. I come by it naturally; my dad is a stellar emergency room physician that grew up in Lick Creek, Ohio (proximity to Kentucky and West Virginia borders: about five minutes) and has been surrounded by frustratingly unintelligent people his whole life. As a result, I've had a very low tolerance for inefficient thinking an actions from a very young age. As a kid this made me "precocious," as an adult it is arrogant and annoying and I really need to let it go. Not only is it a waste of time (yes, I do have more common sense then the IDIOT in my job searching workshop, so?) but it makes me really self conscious ("am I coming across as stupid/lame/unfunny/bratty?"). FORTUNATELY, the peak of this sort of behavior was my freshman year of high school, in which I had acne, twenty extra pounds of baby fat, and pink hair (yes, pink hair) so it was buried with a whole host of other problems. Nowadays I get mostly perturbed by total strangers, which although I'm still not proud of, is better than acting passive aggressively towards your friends, family, etc. Anyways, if this were the first of January I'd make it my resolution to be more calm and understanding towards the COMPLETELY MORONIC BEHAVIOR so often displayed by others; lower the caffeine intake and up the yoga?

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

it's me hannah

Does anyone read this blog: http://itsmejulia.com ? I'm pretty apathetic towards it in general but I'm uber jealous of her hair and tiny waist. I have neither a girlish waist nor enough cash moneys to buy a million high waisted skirts so...should probably stop reading this one right?

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

tick tock

I have horrible trouble sleeping. Even as a kid I was not a good sleeper; I'd either lay in bed awake or wake up several times throughout the night. Unfortunately as I've gotten older and had more things to weigh on my mind (more things: yes, more significant in the long run things: not particularly) this has gotten worse. It doesn't matter how much sleep I've gotten the night before, whether it's 12 hours or 2; I can be physically worn out and still lay in bed tossing and turning and developing a migraine because I cannot sleep. I've tried all sorts of things to help this: not eating after 8pm, not drinking caffeine at all during the day, sound soothers from sharper image, counting sheep, even prescription Ambien and nothing works. I simply am unable to turn off my brain at the end of the day, even if what my brain is mulling over is unimportant or dull or absolutely ludicrous. Even though I function relatively well on little sleep, I can't help but wonder: how much more efficiently would I operate if I got my full 8 hours of sound sleep?

Sunday, May 18, 2008

used

Yesterday a friend and I had brunch together and decided to just sort of stroll around the city since neither of us had anything particularly pressing to do. Our wanderings led us to stop into a vintage store called Memento, sort of a Montreal staple that has an excellent array of vintage dresses, etc. I wasn't really in the market for an $100+ bedazzled shift from the 60s so I aimlessly flipped through the racks, pointing out things I thought were cute to my friend. Without even taking the dress off the rack, I casually told her that I thought a little floral number was cute. At which point the owner of the store, a geriatric curmudgeon, said to me "That would never work for you." Even after I had replied that I wasn't suggesting it for myself, rather noting its cuteness in general, he went on further to espouse the fact that I really needed to be honest about my styling and what types of clothes would work for me. He THEN continued to tell me that very few of the clothes in his store would fit me because women were so much smaller back then and the fabric has no stretch, which would have been fine if it had not been said in a tone that implied "get out of my store you cow." WHAT THE HELL? First of all, I'm not an idiot, I'm aware that vintage clothes have different sizing, no stretch, higher waists, etc. Further, I wear a size four, sometimes six, in dresses; I'm not exactly plus size. If that's how he speaks to me, I can't IMAGINE how rude he would be to someone with, I don't know, boobs? If you hate women, why sell women's clothing? 

Saturday, May 17, 2008

an open letter

Dear Old Navy:
You exist to hock cheap trendy items and boring staples, maybe a cute summer dress. You DO NOT exist to have confusing linings and straps and closure systems that will take more than 4 minutes to figure out in a dressing room. Michael Kors can get away with that and I'll even spend a good ten minutes figuring out a wrap dress in Banana Republic if it has the potential to be cute and is on sale. So please, do not awkwardly sew in stupid linings into $30 dollar dresses that I'm sort of trying on the for the hell of it. It leaves me looking like this:
Sincerely,
Hannah

Thursday, May 15, 2008

killer


Fact: Cute, cheap shoes that initially seem like "something fun for summer!" are always lying. Case in point; the ten dollar jelly flats I got from Target. Trust me, I hear you when you say "ugh, jellies? bitch you got what you deserved," but I think they had definite potential for wearing to the beach, outdoor produce market, etc. However, I had not even walked the three blocks to the metro on my way to an aforementioned produce when THE ENTIRE BACK OF MY HEEL was scraped off. Forcing me to stop at a dollar store and purchase a pair of hideous neon blue mesh slipper type things (see below) in which to hobble around in. I ALWAYS think Target shoes are a good idea and they NEVER are. My silver ballet slippers of four years ago, which I wore until they officially died, notwithstanding, they always turn out horribly. Since this is now in writing, excuse me while I call every Target store in America and plead with them to put my picture by the cash register with a note that says "do not sell this girl shoes!"

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

bang watch

My friend B (so gossip girl, eh?) is constantly asking "who's on bang watch?" when we go out; referring to someone needing to make sure her straight across bangs aren't awkwardly parting in the middle. My current issue is thus: my bangs are growing out and I am unsure of what to do with them. Generally I just grab a pair of kitchen scissors and scale them back but I'm thinking that that probably isn't the best solution for my hair's health/style overall. Should I go to a random hairdresser and have them trimmed? Can you do that? I don't think I want to grow them out all the way but I'm thinking of going for more of a bang-flap-layer type thing instead of my usual bangs? Ugh. This is what happens when I'm not in school; goofy hair obsessing. 

top chef

Confession: I promised myself I would spend today researching job leads and instead have watched like five episodes of Top Chef Season Four. It's so good; the food! the drama! the lesbians! So although I'm a little embarrassed of my wasted day, I really need to point out the following:
That is Chef Tom Colicchio at a Chicago Bears football tailgate challenge wearing a striped collared shirt, a jersey, a thin scarf, and a beret? Since this episode aired a while ago I'm probably behind on pointing this out but really? When Chef thinks of football he immediately thinks beret?

day one

As Leah pointed out, I am the worst blogger ever. I can't believe this has been abandoned for two weeks! In my defense I was drunk during most of this time, but never again will I leave you, the internet, with nothing to read. What will follow (hopefully) will be a chronicling of my trip to Kentucky, in which two friends and I drove the majority of my worldly possessions back to my parents house and encounter adversity and hilarity. Starting of course with May 1, DAY ONE!

To be completely fair, this story needs to begin with Day Zero, April 30th, otherwise known as the day after my last final. I woke up surprisingly sober and alert after dinner and drinks out with friends to celebrate the end of my university career and began packing up my apartment into little components that would fit into a full size sedan with enough room to fit three passengers and a shit load of Carrie Underwood songs. Around 8 or 9, a handful of my friends came around to hang out and say goodbye since it would be the last time I would see many of them. What started out as an innocent night quickly became a very drunk one when one of my [male] friends suggested the two of us take shots. As the two of us got progressively more wasted in front of all of our [sober] friends, it became apparent that the vibe had moved from "friendly" to "friendly." So as the last of our friends trickled out (except for the one who was also coming to Kentucky, who parked it on our futon) and my roommate went to bed, the tequila shots moved to the bedroom. [...this portion of the story omitted because a) I was drunk for most of it and b)I've said too much already...] SO, after going to bed around 4:30, I woke up at 6am (carry the zero and you get the correct answer; ONE AND A HALF HOURS OF SLEEP) to take a shower, pack the clothes I would actually wear in Kentucky, and go get the rental car. Leaving my naked guy friend slumbering in my bed, I gathered my friend and roommate and stumbled out of my apartment to get the rental car. You know that a story is going to be centered around responsibility when it involves drunkenly/hungoverly getting a rental car, right? 

Anyways, after stopping for an extremely large coffee on the way, I made it to the rental car office where I was informed that because my parents' (who pay my car insurance) names are on my insurance card, my coverage would not be accepted. Because the sight of sunlight and sound of morning traffic still rendered me totally nauseous, and because I nearly puked in the rental office's fake tree planter, I was not at all pleased to hear this. Fortunately my friendly insurance representative agreed to fax a new copy of the card and after 30 minutes of the woman working the counter's attempts to turn on her fax machine the whole thing was sorted out. Already running an hour late we went to the top of the parking garage to retrieve our car. Expecting (and having paid for) a full size sedan I was given a....2 door Pontiac! Torn between crying or punching someone, it would be ANOTHER HOUR before we finally got a full sized Mazda (which I would come to love dearly). 

So two hours after our initial departure time, and after a cute but surreal goodbye kiss with my guy friend, my two road trip companions (henceforth referred to as B and W) and I FINALLY made it on the road. After a duty free pitstop for cheap booze (for when we got there, not for the road, no worries), SIXTEEN HOURS OF DRIVING (of which I drove a miraculous 13.5), 47 renditions each of Miley Cyrus, Usher, and Danity Kane's new song, three Tim Horton's stops, and one fuel emergency, we finally made it to Kentucky. And thus completes day one!

Friday, May 9, 2008

I'm back!

HELLO BLOGOSPHERE!
I'm so so sorry that I have been away from you for so long. I'm back in Montreal after a week in Kentucky and while it is good to be in my own apartment I definitely miss the warmth of the south (figurative and literal). I'll be back later in the day to talk all about my trip and of course fill you in on the progress of my upcoming life crisis!

Monday, May 5, 2008

down south


I actually made it to Kentucky despite the immense sadness of having to say goodbye to some very good friends, covering that sadness with booze, and having to get up at 8:00am for the 16 hour drive home. I don't have long to type up a good post but I will say that so far my two friends and I have done the following things: been fratting (fratting: (verb) to attend a university fraternity house and do any or all of the following; get drunk, do something embarrassing, make out with a frat boy), gone to the Kentucky Derby, and sunbathed with Bailey's Mint Chocolate milkshakes. More on all of those things later.