I want to be Carrie Bradshaw

This weekend I did that thing I always do, where I spend hours shopping and buy a few items that look cute and aren't too expensive and I know I'll wear a lot.  Then the second I get home and try them on again, I know that I have to go back and return them.  Do any of you do that too?  I can't be the only one.

On Sunday Erica and I spent the day in Boston - got lunch (and sangria!) on Newbury Street and then shopped until we almost fell asleep on the T.  It was a gorgeous day, sunny and hot, but unfortunately I did not take any pictures :[ 

I am going to Europe for two weeks in about a month, and all I want is to be able to step off the plane or train or bus looking like this:

But because I am me, I'm sure I will look like this:

I mean, it's hot in Europe!  How am I supposed to look cute and trendy while also staying cool and appropriate for the kiddies (I'll be on a tour with high school students)?  I bought a few options this weekend...

White shirt, TJ Maxx. Loose and light.

H&M, shirt and belt.  I'm imagining London will have the coolest weather because it is rainy and stuff, so I can wear this there with long shorts or capris.

Shirt and skirt, H&M, belt is mine.  Parisian, sort of, right? Maybe? I don't know.  Ignore my toes.

Sneakers, Steve Madden, flats, TJ Maxx.  IN LOVE with both pairs!  And flower hair accessories from H&M.




I know I have a LOT more to do so that I can pack absolutely everything I will need.  Thankfully I still have a month...but I know the day I leave I will be frantically running out to the mall to get that striped sundress I just have to have for the beach-side village I am imagining in Italy.


I mean, is it entirely too much to ask for me to spend one day in Paris looking like this?

Probably.  Any travel fashion tips out there??

Hope everyone had a great long weekend, and Happy Memorial Day!

Re: My Last Post

Hahahaha.  I just got back from Pinkberry with my sister where, trying to be a good sibling, I went to pay for both of our ice creams.  And my card DECLINED!  Because I have a daily limit I wasn't aware of!  And I just opened a credit card!

I can't stop laughing, this is too perfect.

(PS: Passionfruit pinkberry? Worth it).

My Mother is a Ninja

Today my mother coerced me into doing two things I had no intention of doing but did them without even realizing what I was doing.  How many times did I use a variation of the word "do" in that sentence?

Anways.

I woke up this morning to my Dad waiting to discuss the issue of this absurd idea I have to stay in a hostel.  I will probably get murdered, after all.  Mom chimed in to let me know that even my sister agreed (I'll get her back later), and I was being stubborn and ridiculous to insist I stay in the European equivalent of a fleabag motel.  They had found the perfect hotel for me, right down the street from Gloucester Road, and it was only $109 a night!  Why, they were even willing to pay for it!  Before I knew what was happening I was clicking "Confirm" on hotels.com and clicking "Cancel Reservation" at Hostel World.  

I know I sound selfish to complain about this.  I am now staying in a 3-4 star hotel, in a private room, with my own bathroom and breakfast included.  I won't have to put a lock on my suitcase when I leave for the day or provide my own linens.  But...I was excited to stay in that hostel.  To be on my own, to force myself to step out of my comfort zone and meet strangers and maybe new friends.  And it was also important to me to pay for this whole trip on my own. 

Ah, well.  At least my trek from Rome through Tuscany to Venice and Milan will be 100% sponsored by moi!

Rome cannot WAIT to have me back.

I also applied for my first credit card.  As someone who can barely grasp the concept of interest, I have been putting off getting a credit card for as long as I could.  They scare me, okay?  I like my debit card, with my pin number and easily accessible balance.

But I also want to get an apartment, and that requires a credit history, something I do not have.  I casually mentioned this after the hostel debacle, because apparently I still don't know how my mom operates.  Again, before I knew what was happening, I was submitting my information and answering questions like "Do you have an investment portfolio?"  No, Capital One, I don't even know how stocks work.  I have a checking account and direct deposit.

And now I have a credit card.  I bought two pairs of shoes, a dress, a shirt, and an iPhone today.  Having a credit card with a $5000 limit really makes me trust myself less.

What an exhausting morning.  After all this grown-up stuff I did today, a fun little anecdote:

Last night I went to Chili's with Erica and her hubby Kurt to watch the Bruin's game (yeah Boston!).  On the table was their wine list:

"...hints of toasty barrel complexity, and on the palate, pear and pineapple with spice." Really Chili's?  You exist to make delicious food that causes people to hate themselves.  Quit it with the pretentious wine descriptions.

Although they do have a mobile Margarita cart, which is pretty cool.

Oh So Domestic

I'll admit, a big part of why I started this blog is because my friend from work showed me her blog and I was jealous.  And I really missed writing.  But I am also using it as a way to hold myself accountable for this whole "becoming an adult" business.  I whine about living at home and how I can't be independent and I feel like a child, but if I don't actually do anything to change this, then I've lost the right to complain, haven't I?  

Slowly but surely, I've been taking little steps to at least feel more like an adult, even when having your parents two rooms over makes this nearly impossible (case in point: this morning my mother told me it was too cold to wear a skirt to work - it was 80 degrees today).   Some examples of my recent efforts:

• I use an actual iron to iron clothes, rather than my hair straightener
• I've switched to real sugar in my iced coffee, even though it doesn't dissolve, because apparently Splenda is lethal
• I actually called Verizon myself with an issue, rather than bitch and moan about it until my mother called for me
• I started separating my whites from my colors, which I know isn't necessarily an "adult" thing but rather something most people do anyways, but it was a big step for me so back off.

However, my proudest moment was last night when I got home and decided that, doggone it, I was going to teach myself to sew and patch my favorite pair of jean shorts.

They had a tiny, fashionable tear in them when I first bought them but, after a year of sticking my toe and then foot through it when trying to get them on, the hole has now stretched to this obscene monstrosity:

I mean, look at that!

Ignore my giant pale thigh, and focus on the size of that hole.  Now, I may only have the vaguest idea of what is fashionable and classy, but even I know that that is too much for a pair of shorts.  I am a lady, after all.  Sort of.

So I got out my mom's sewing kit, an old tank top to use for a patch, Googled "how to sew," and got to work. 

I destroyed that tank top in the name of adulthood.

45 pain-filled minutes later, I had successfully threaded and knotted the needle.  At that point the online directions I found had become totally useless, and I just started poking at everything. (Ha, dirty).

Fun fact: Liz has the maturity of a 12-year-old boy.

After I  got a rhythm going, everything else went pretty smoothy.  I had a moment of panic when the thread ran out and I had to go through the whole needle-thread-knot process again, but I persevered and made it through.  Somehow, I successfully patched my jeans.  Hooray!  Ch-ch-check it out:

Yes, I'm wearing heels strictly for this photo, but they make my legs look longer which makes for a more  aesthetically pleasing picture.  You're welcome.

I have to say, I am pretty proud of myself.  I'm a terrible cook, can barely bake, and children frighten me.  

I was on course to be the Worst Wife Ever, but now, I can sew!  Sure, that patch will fall right off the first time I put my shorts through the wash, but I have documented proof that I did this on my own, without help from anyone.  Except Google.    

I think I'm going to start trying to teach myself something new or at least try something new once a week now.  Maybe Mondays?  I don't have any TV shows that night so I'll be free and clear to improve myself as a human being.  Any suggestions for my next accomplishment??     

It's Time To Play the Music...

Can I just say how unbelievably excited I am for this movie?  I LOVE the Muppets.  Everything they do cracks me up.  A Muppet Christmas Carol is my favorite Christmas movie, no lie.  I mean...Fozzie Bear?  Can't beat him.

Weekend, Weekend

Friday night I got home from work to find that my parents were out to eat.  It is absurd how excited I get when I am home alone, because I do not have the house to myself that often.  

Since it was Friday and it was just me and the dog, I decided to have a beer while watching my DVR'd Parks and Rec (latest television obsession).  Drinking the beer was fine, but I found myself looking out the window to the driveway every two minutes to see if my parents were home...and when they pulled in I literally RAN TO THE SINK AND POURED OUT THE BEER AND HID THE BOTTLE.  I am 22!  Almost 23, legally allowed to drink, and drink alone if I so choose, for almost three years now.  But I was afraid I would get in trouble and like, grounded or something.  Oh, boy, I need to get out.

And get out I did, the next day at my sister's housewarming cookout.  Sure, my parents were there, but so were two of my best friends and all of my sister's friends, so it was a really fun time.  The weather was great, thank God, because Mother Nature is apparently pissed and taking it out on Boston.  

The night before my friend Cristina and I made homemade sangria...

...which turned out delicious.  Sure, we strayed a bit from the recipe by adding the entire bottle of brandy but I think that just made it tastier.  And led to fun moments like this:

Yay alcohol!

That night the three of us and Erica's bunny-boo went into Boston to a couple of Faneuil Hall bars, which was pretty uneventful but fun to see Cristina get hit on by tourists from Ohio.  Then this morning we went to Panera and planned our Super Awesome Mega Badass Boston Scavenger Hunt we are doing this June...more details later!  Overall, a very good weekend con mis chicas.

And now it's Sunday night, and I'm sitting on the couch, flipping back and forth between Harry Potter and Scary Movie 2.  Thinking about how Tim Curry scares me way more than a real-life Voldemort ever could.  Food for thought!

These Shoes Rule

I ordered shoes online today!  I NEVER order things online, except books, so this is a big day for me.

One of my friends from work and I always talk about how we want "cute Europe sneakers" for when we go on our tours this summer, and I finally found a pair I liked.  I had a pair when I studied abroad that I bought in London for 6 pounds...

...but by the time I got home there were holes in the bottom.  I still stubbornly wore them for about a month, though, until I realized walking around in shoes that have holes in the bottom is a dumb idea.  Although they are still in my closet because I refuse to throw them away.

But I bought a new pair today!  From ideeli.com - they have insanely discounted designer stuff thats only on sale for a few hours a day.  I literally stared at my computer as the seconds counted down for this sale so I could click "order now."  What do you think?

Cute, right??  Gotta dash, though - cookout at my sister's later and my friend and I are making a chocolate heathbar trifle.  I can't bake unless the instructions are clearly written on the box sooo I need all the help I can get.

Enjoy the sun!

Just touched down in London-Town

Last night I was told by my mother that I was not allowed to stay in a hostel during my work-sponsored trip to London this July.

I realize I'm new to Blogger and all of you, but quick refresher: I am 22.  I work and have health benefits and everything.  I even have dental!  That screams adult to me.  More importantly, I studied abroad in London for a semester, meaning I kinda know my way around the joint.  I love London so much my friends have begun to hate it out of spite (and jealousy because I love it more than I love them).

London: it has my name on it.

Anyways, I'll be in London for three nights on my own before meeting up with the tour I'm joining.  Now, despite all of my benefits talk before, I am still pretty damn broke, and the idea of being able to afford a hotel in one of the most expensive cities in the world is hilarious.  Since I would like to be able to move out in the near future (August! August! August!), the most logical and financially-sound option is a hostel.

I understand that to adults the word "hostel" brings up images of seedy almost-homeless shelters, with drug-addicted vagrants curled up in corners just WAITING to steal from the young, bright-eyed American girl sharing their bunk.  But look how cute! 

I can just tell that nothing bad has ever happened there, ever.  Plus it has a red door, like a Talbot's, which means it is classy.

This is the hostel I decided to book, and at $33/night, I couldn't be happier.  It's in the perfect location, and I booked a female-only room so I have some level of protection against skeezy Europeans looking for a wife.  Unless you are Irish.  Then...when can you move in?

Making these reservations wasn't easy, though.  My mother flat-out told me I wasn't allowed to stay in a hostel.  I'm sorry, "allowed"?  Who's trip is this, again?  Who is paying for it?  I understand she is looking out for me, and the thought of me on my own for three days must make her nervous, but I gotta ask, how old am I?  At least I'm being responsible enough to know that I can't throw a whole paycheck away on this.  By all means, Mom, if you want to put me up in a fancy-pants Holiday Inn, I won't say no...

But instead, I waited until I was at my happy place (work) and used the my whole day to research, find and, eventually, book my hostel.  Eeee! I do a little jig whenever I think about it...I am going back to London!

We'll be together again soon, Benjamin.

The best part, however, was when I got home tonight and could look my mom in the eye, full of confidence, and say:

"I booked my nights in London.  At a hostel."

And the 13-year old who lives in my head had her hands on her hips and her tongue stuck out.  Take THAT.

"There's no noise allowed on Mondays."

"I'm sorry, are you eating turkey chili off of a frisbee?"

I would totally live like this.  I don't care.  I would have meals sitting on the floor and use a frisbee for a plate and buy plastic silverware in bulk from Costco.  Because, kids, if you don't live with an authority figure you can do whatever you want!

And having an adorably simple guitar-playing husband to share my plastic fork with wouldn't be the worst thing ever.

Like a Boss.

Is it too much to ask that one of these beautiful man-boys above be my husband?  I mean, I live a pretty G-rated existence at home with my parents and 17-year-old wiener dog.  I'm pretty sure I deserve this.

Lazy Sunday

I've spent approximately three hours today outside of my room or, as my Mom calls it, "The Cave."  As a naturally lazy person, working a nine-to-five job five days a week does not allow for a lot of schlumming around time, so that is what I save Sundays for.

Or, what I intend to save Sundays for.  This particular Sunday started with my mom walking in my room, without knocking, at 8:57 am.

"What are you doing?"
"What?  In bed, I'm not up, I don't know."
"I hope you don't plan to spend all day in here, I have things for you to do."

And by "things" she means clean out my old room as I am currently sleeping in my sister's room because of the larger closet and not-twin bed.  She moved into a new house with her boyfriend a couple weeks ago, the lucky bastards.

For us poor and single kids, living at home is the only real option.  At least until the glorious month of August, when my friend and I plan (pray?) to move into an apartment closer to Boston, where there are no overbearing parents interrogating me about my destination when I get up to go to the bathroom.  I mean, come on.

I somehow managed to avoid doing my mom's list of things (hee-hee) today, and the three hours outside of my room were spent at lunch with my parents, sister and her boyfriend.  We went to a restaurant my parents haven't been to since before they were married - twenty-eight years ago - and they spent fifteen minutes arguing over whether or not the entrance has changed.

I ended up putting my iPod in for the car ride, something I haven't done since I was fifteen and decided I wanted to be a rebellious, angry emo kid or something.

So now I am back in The Cave, painting my nails and listening to my nerdy Doctor Who soundtrack, counting the seconds until tomorrow when I can go to work and spend the day listening to the complaints of crazy parents who are not mine.

See you tomorrow,
Liz.