Mwah

Red lips. Are one of my new favorite things. They make lips look young and sweet and classic and lusty! Having red lips makes me want to walk around and act like Katherine Hepburn and be all breathy and indignant. And talk in a WASPy New England accent! The one I'm wearing now is Kat Von D's "Underage Red." (By the way ladies, yes, it's Kat Von D, but lipstick is lipstick!) Online it looks kinda dumb and bland, but swatched on (at least my) skin, it looks so thick and poppy and perf! Get thee to a Sephora and buy one! And plant a big wet one on your man.

You're welcome. ~BL

Cross Country, Part II

Readers, herein lies Part II of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure Brendan and Katelyn's Cross Country trip, Part Deux. As you will recall, Brendan and I embarked on a five-day journey from Washington, DC, to Los Angeles, California. This is the second chapter of my account of the experience.

August 28th, 2009 Oxford, Ohio to St. Louis, Missouri
States crossed: Illinois, Indiana, Missouri
We woke up in an upperclassman house on the campus of Miami of Ohio, just outside Cincinnati.* As previously mentioned, Brenny, my sweet little baby bro, woke up on the porch. Piece of work he is.

We had a nice hungover, salty, and yummola breakfast at a diner on campus. Miami of Ohio is exactly what you'd picture a regular college to be like - you NYU/Columbia/BU/Georgetown/community college alums, you. It's roll-y poll-y and surrounded by nothing (slash, hicks) and has a bunch of really specific in-jokes.
Once Bren and I said good bye to Awesome Jillian, we drove through sunny, sunny fields, all the way to Indiana. This was when I truly felt like I was driving cross country. I was in a state that was obscure enough not to have a sitcom based in it! (Sorry, Parks and Recreation, you're too recent.)
I have to say that one thing, among many, that I'm proud of from this trip was the fact that we got out of the car in almost every state - the one exception being West Virginia, if you discount Maryland being the state we started in. We got out immediately after we crossed into corn-fed Indiana. To say that the gas station there was one of three attractions in Indiana would not be an exaggeration, considering the most urban spots we witnessed were this:and this:
THUG LYFE.

We crossed into Illinois as the rain was falling and Brendan's own spirits were getting cloudier and cloudier. (This was my attempt at the Illinois state sign.)
... So I took over the wheel! Sitting on a phone book and box of CDs, since the seat broke.
Illinois was very non-particular. Unlike Indiana, it wasn't just acres and acres of corn, and local CVS's did not dictate the cosmopolitan centers of life. Illinois, on the other hand, pretty much looked like the New Jersey Turnpike for miles and miles, until right outside St. Louis, where it started to look like rural America, and JESUS, all over again. Hallelujah.I drove all the way into St. Louis, and therefore, Missouri! Our seventh out of twelfth state.St. Louis is in fact a very kind city. I could never imagine living there, because it seems to hold true to its nickname, "Gateway to the West." The highway seems to almost intersect downtown, and the whole layout just makes St. Louis seem like you're supposed to leave tomorrow. There are really only ten blocks of action. People from St. Louis, prove me wrong here!Or I'll have your bear eat you.

What I can say is that the Cards game made me warm to St. Louis, as it was filled with good-natured, beer-loving families and engaged couples that had SWARMED there - just for a game against an indubitably young and mediocre team (The Nats? Really, St. Louis? You care that much?). It was pretty ironic for me and Bren since the Nationals were in town, and pretty fortuitous, because they actually played the best game I've ever seen them play. However, it didn't do anything for the very obvious fact that Brendan and I were the only ones dressed in Nats gear...
... or that Pujols hit an incredible, game-winning homer in the bottom of the ninth.
Anyway, after the game, Brendan and I trekked (on foot, this time) once more through the delightful Midwestern Mecca of St. Louis, and to bed, to bed... to wake up, step through the Gateway, and start on our way to the West.
*Would you know how to spell "Cincinnati" if not for seeing it in text? I bet you a zillion dollars no.

Why I let this person crash on my couch.

G-Chat. Thursday, October 8th, 2009.

Amy: hahaha

a nj court says it's legal to sodomize a cow

me: agh, are you kidding?

there goes my weekend

Amy: *LEGAL

not illegal

me: oh

well then

party's back on

Amy: are you calling me a cow?

Cross Country, Part I

This summer I drove across the Home of the Brave. I was ordered to do it per my mother/ boss's request, but eventually I came to see the responsibility as something that I would potentially put on my bucket list. Brendan, my 21-year-old mostly rad brother, took an internship at Emerson's Los Angeles campus this fall. Since LA (which is the Seventh Circle of Hell, I must remit as a NYC resident) is completely auto-dependent (no Subway? pft), he needed his car. Shipping it + flying out there is WAY expensive, so we decided to take a route a hair less back-breaking. And we drove! DC to LA. We left on Thursday, August 27th and arrived in LA on Monday, August 31st. The trip was about 3,300 miles plus change and was supremely inspirational. Although Brendan and I were kind of at each other's throats, for a girl who's never been in a land-locked state I had a lot to see and digest.

This adventure is going to be visited in five parts on my blog - mostly because that's how I set it up in Facebook albums. There were five legs of the trip, which encompassed 12 states. The legs:

1. DC to Cincinnati
2. Cincinnati to St. Louis
3. St. Louis to Denver (the most desolate road in America)
4. Denver to Kayenta, AZ (the most beautiful road in America)
5. Kayenta, AZ to LA

... In each leg I will highlight the state borders crossed.

The first day was a little frustrating. It was one of those things where you know something beautiful is in store, but you just have to be patient and sit through the redundant. Driving from DC to Ohio was pretty much just driving on 270 for an extension of time. For those not in the know, 270 is the northern road of Maryland, which leads into the backwoods of Appalachia. It's actually an incredibly verdant and lovely drive, but for me it was just driving into something-that-isn't-DC. The states we crossed were:
Maryland, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Ohio*

Compared to the route that was ahead, this drive was quiet and serene, almost smothered by trees. It was very, very hilly (what I perceived to be "omg mountains!"). Mostly muted nothingness, but that's OK. Here was the most exciting part of Maryland (and the whole day of travel):


Cumberland, Maryland was the biggest metropolis we left before "Cincinnati." It was precious and awesome and in a valley.


After Maryland, it was just a mess of Eastern Mountain. We drove through West Virginia, a nothing of American Forest, then through Pennsylvania - a means to an end - and then into Ohio. We drove all the way through Ohio to Miami of OH's campus. We stayed with Brendan's awesome possum friend, Jillian.

Her house, like every other upper-classman one on campus, had a name. It was called "Intoxic-Eight" for the eight-resident quota it held. The next door neighbor was "Tequila Mockingbird." Another house that I thought was in incredibly good taste was the "Betty Ford Clinic." College.

Anyway. Miami of Ohio reminded me that I never went to school on a traditional campus. I paid like, $8 for three cocktails. EIGHT DOLLARS, you guys. EIGHT HUNDRED CENTS. To me, that's like writing a $62 check for a Park Avenue duplex. So needless to say I was ecstatic. It was nice to drink my life away that night for next to nothing in the midst of WASPy college ignorance. Jesus, is undergrad a blissful utopia. The next day, we woke up (Brendan on Jill's porch), ready to face the corn-fed road to St. Louis....


* I was so proud of myself for actually catching (almost) every state welcome sign on the trip. Obviously, though, the Maryland sign isn't mine. Suffice it to say, though, that I cross it numerous times per year driving in and out of DC and Virginia.