Last Friday I got to see a place that might actually be my home planet: London Fashion Weekend. (My sister always said I was adopted). It's a three day long event for the fashion lovers and admirers that takes place the weekend after Fashion Week at the Somerset House . There are fashion shows, guest speakers, and most importantly, endless amounts of designer shopping. At discount prices. Which is basically a mating call for a broke, fashion-loving student. I got an early morning ticket and despite the snow and freezing temperatures, I still managed to pull off the sweatpants and put on the one designer dress I own. (Not that it's needed in order to attend, but where else am I going to wear it? The library?)  *Note on this dress: I spent pretty much every day for four months staring at this Twenty8Twelve dress online before finally deciding to buy it...after opening up a credit card and paying it off in installments. (It's an investment!) I was also recovering fro

I went to bed at 5:38am last night. That's how much I love award shows. I will watch them live in whichever city, state, or country I'm in once February rolls around. That being said, MY GOD was this ceremony the longest ever? SO MUCH SINGING. A show that's already three and half hours on a good night does not need more stuff shoved into it.  All in all, I enjoyed most of it. I thought Seth MacFarlane did a good job, considering most of the media hated him before he even opened his mouth. (I like him and I don't care!) I think the Oscars are a tough job since the crowd is...well it's the one award show where they're not at tables drinking, so that doesn't help. But I think maybe next year, just have Amy and Tina host everything.  Some highlights: Jennifer Lawrence winning....and falling. I don't love that she fell, that would be cruel and awful. I love that she handled it so gracefully and with a wicked sense of humor. She's just the bes

I'm off on my first mini trip outside the city this weekend! Hopefully it will be successful enough to post about later. Regardless, it is me who is traveling which means something blog-worthy is bound to happen. To get me in the traveling mood, I thought I'd share a song I'm very much obsessed with at the moment. This little tune is from one of my all time favorite artists Laura Marling (check her out here ). I got to see her perform this song live on her last tour and just loved it. Enjoy it and have a great weekend!

Taken during a run in Regent's Park Three weeks later and I'm still somehow on board with this "running" thing. I'm now up to 20 minutes....though not all at once. (What do you think I am, an Olympian??) One of the many, many, many reasons why I'm not a fan of running is the fact that I get bored. Easily. Despite surrounding myself with gorgeous scenery and buying fancy new running pants, I just can't help thinking about how I'd rather be doing anything else. Also the constant worry about my future hip replacements and how much those are going to cost does not help. (They crackle and pop way  too much for them to not break down by the time I'm 35). The only way I can try and shake things up is with my ever changing playlists. So here is the current playlist that I'm swearing by- feel free to judge my choices and my commentary: Love On Top - Beyonce This is all her fault, after all.  Dream On - Aerosmith I may or may not e

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I took my very first trip to Portobello Market in Notting Hill and it was everything I hoped it would be. Food, jewelry, food, colored houses, food, you get the idea. I was wisely told to go on a Friday since it would be much less crowded and I got to browse without having to fight off people for scarves or antique boots, though that would've made quite the blog post. Here are some of the pictures I took, when I wasn't pulling out my wallet. (It really isn't a place you should go if you have a lack of self-control). Also, the falafel is ridiculously delicious. Enjoy! Hummingbird Bakery aka heaven Candy Happy Place (I'm an easy target for this and the scarf table) I might recreate this in my future apartment. I could spend all day with these things. Hidden away cafe On a final note, I naturally came home with some treats from the Hummingbird Bakery. Go ahead, get jealous... Red Velvet Happiness

If you're not a fan of slightly hostile yet hopefully humorous rants, then I suggest you pass on today's entry... I just became aware of the recent article by Rex Reed in the NY Observer and it got me PISSED. For those of you who are in the dark like I was, here's a summary: In a critique of Melissa McCarthy's new movie Identity Thief, Reed calls her "tractor-size" and a "female hippo", amongst other glorious names. (You can read the article in all its glory  here ). First of all, Mr. Reed can just suck it. Second of all, I find it incredibly horrific to even include that in a film review. Where is the professionalism? If it's not this, then it's " Lena Dunham is too fat " or " Kelly Clarkson should lose some pounds ". Lena, Kelly, Adele, you name it. If they're not stick thin, they're called out for it. As someone who has had their fair share of body issues/sizes/resentments, I can say first hand it sucks to

WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING: WHAT I'LL ACTUALLY BE DOING:

Oh Valentine's Day, we meet again. I've had a tradition since 2004 to always wear black on V-Day. I won't get into the reasons (translation- I don't really remember), but the bottom line is that this physical protest happens every year and you should get involved. Yes, I may have gotten soft in my old age and occasionally/all the time cry at Google Chrome commercials ( I mean, c'mon ). But some things don't change. And before you say it, it's not because I'm not in a relationship. (though you can shut up about it thanks). It sucks for everyone, attached or not, and you know it. The anticipation, the expectation, ugh. Just the worst. So join me this year and wear all black to mourn the people who came up with this sad excuse for a holiday. Oh and, most importantly, don't forget to listen to my favorite V-Day jam: p.s. Looks like this sewage plant in Greenpoint, Brooklyn is on board...

I told you I make guacamole a lot:

The other day I ventured over to the Bloomsbury neighborhood to look for some books I needed for class this coming week. As usual in London, that simple task turned into a tourist's dream. I have to start out by saying that I was in desperate need for a coffee. The Zzzquil hadn't quite worn off and I actually don't believe tea has (enough) caffeine in it. Plus, I've maybe had four cups since I moved here (I'm usually a 3 cups-a-day kind of girl) so when I say desperate, I'm not exaggerating. I saw a Starbucks and would've knocked over a kid to get to it faster. On my way in, this was on the side of the building: I mean, how cool is that? He's probably rolling over in his grave since there's now an American coffee chain next door, but still. Pretty neat. After my coffee fix (don't worry, no children were harmed), I found the used bookstore. Judd Books - it's a small store stacked to the ceiling with no computer catalogue and a

This is what my weekend looks like. Hopefully you're up to something more fun? (I secretly like this though, so it's more of an excuse to upload an artsy photo of a book pile).

Moving to London means many things. New country. New lifestyle. New school. And new roommates. And not just any roommates * . Roommates # 21, 22, 23, and 24. Yes kids, I've had 24 ROOMMATES since 2005. And before you ask, it's not because I've had to move in order to keep them from killing me (hopefully). It's just been simple math: changed dorms/apts + moved cities + different jobs/internships  = 24! And there's more to come, so I thought I'd put it out there what kind of roommate I am (author's note- if you've been my living partner before, please feel free to add. But only the good stuff. Or the adorably annoying): 1) As previously mentioned , I hit my head a lot. So much so that one of my former lovely roommates felt the need to buy me a helmet for Christmas. You might be obligated to do the same. 2) I love peanut butter. More than most humans. If you were to take a blood sample from me, 90% of it would most likely come back peanut butter. (Espec

My favorite saying that I use, probably way too often for it to actually hold any weight, is "I'm at the end of my rope". I've said it with all kinds of inflictions: anger, defeat, humor (by humor, I mean delirium mixed with frustration and lack of sleep). Anyone who has seen me try to organize a schedule, struggle with a pickle jar (why so hard?!), look for the missing spare peanut butter without success, or spend hours on the phone with an airline has heard these words.  So when I came across this quote, I had to post it. I always knew I liked Teddy. "When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on."                                                                                              - Theodore Roosevelt Just waiting for the inevitable grad school ropes to appear so I can continue using my classic line. Most likely though, I'll probably say it tomorrow when I run out of my McVities dark chocolate biscuits. 

After witnessing Beyonce kill it during the Superbowl half time show, I decided to commit to a running schedule. I absolutely hate running, but if it will make me look like Beyonce, I will run marathons.  However this, I found, is a definite upside: 

I blame Living Social. They sucked me in with their "London/New Year New You/Juice Detox" offer and I really wanted to do it. I foolishly told myself that "cleanses are awesome" and "it's a fresh start from all the scones you've been downing" and "just forget about the last one you did four years ago and how you couldn't feel your hands and how you fell asleep at 8:00p because you were so weak". I stupidly convinced myself of all those things and this is how the London Detox went down: DAY ONE *note- I started my day off with a Zzzquil hangover, hence the late wakeup time* 11:00a: Wake up - let's get this ish STARTED! 11:05a: Yum,  these smoothies are actually really good! 11:22a:  I’m hungry. 12:07p:  I wonder if chocolate is allowed during this detox. 12:07 + 30 sec: Nope, they say no. 2:00p: Just brushed my teeth for the 2 nd time today. I would kill for a mint sandwich. 2:14p: Have to go buy g

Those of you who know me well know that I hit my head on lots of things. LOTS of things. Everyday. Don't blame me, blame genetics (thanks Pops!) and awkward surfaces that just ask for it. If you were to shave my/my dad's head, you would find numerous indentations of years past. Similar to the rings of a tree trunk, you could also probably figure out how old we are. Why should that change in a new country? So this brings me to: London Surfaces I've Hit My Head On (Part Uno...I'm Assuming): This Laundry Money Machine (In my defense, WHY PUT A CHAIR RIGHT THERE?) This Elevator (The modern-ness of it distracted me) This Cabinet  (Almost concussion...I waited awhile before going to sleep that night) This Wall (The bed is attached to it, so...not much can be done to prevent future injuries) This Tube (Subway) Door...Multiple Times (Is London full of short people?!) In my defense with the subway door, the floor t