Open Letter to Forever 21

Dear Forever 21,

We haven't spoken for a while. You and I used to be so close, and despite my better judgement re: post break-up communication I feel I owe you an explanation regarding my once silent protest.

I'll always remember our first time--you, me and the bright lights of Baltimore. I was young and wide-eyed. You were loud and pandemoniac. I was intrigued by your clutter and harsh lighting. I wanted to fix you. During high school I was trying to define my vision and write my own style story--I really wanted you to be a part of that journey. After all--what is fashion but moving, living art and self-expression?

It was several years before I realized not even blind optimism and trust could justify investment in your products. Few were the weekends when poorly-made Forev clothing or jewelry would survive my college jaunts. I thought I was being thrifty with my limited income during school. That $20 dress? SO in my budget. That $8.50 necklace with a pink owl embellishment? Sure to be a hit on the frat party circuit. But none of it lasted. Ever. 

Poorly sewn sequins and mini skirts that can double as tube tops just stopped being enough. I drew a line in the sand. You either maintain your characteristic affordability while increasing the quality of the clothes or I walk away for good. The rest, as you know, is history.

Sometimes I miss you, old friend. Then I remember it's you--not me--that ruined something that could have been truly beautiful.


Sincerely,

Allison

Annual Oprah Roast

Christmas is coming--and you all know what that means: Oprah released her annual list of favorite (read as: bourgie) things. While you can see the complete list here--I assure you there is no need. I provide an analysis below and have selected the key items that prove, for the millionth year in a row, that Oprah is the most aggravating and fake person on this green Earth.

Truffle Popcorn Kit

Some people dream of success. Others dream of peace. Oprah dreams about a popcorn maker. Popcorn (or Pipcorn if you're the O herself and/or a braggart) is A. not that good and B. NOT worth 94$. 

Chocolate Nativity Scene

A disproportionately high number of items on Oprah's 2013 Favorite Things List involved chocolate (5--or approximately 8.333%). I'd be willing to accept this statistic if she could have at least refrained from turning religion into a dessert. How is a Chocolate Nativity Scene not sacrilege? You love Baby Jesus so much you want to eat him? Have some decorum.

MuuMuu

 According to the Book of O this muumuu (worn best by Homer Simpson when he was collecting disability for being obese) "was born lounge-ready." Damn right it was. Anyone who purchases this particular Favorite Thing better not even entertain the idea of leaving their home. Not even for the paper. It makes me uncomfortable to even look at let alone interact with.

Susan Hanover Earrings

"Bonus: The earrings look more expensive than they actually are!!" I don't love anyone enough to buy them Claire's-y earrings for $220. These earrings are just one of the many clues that lead me to know that Oprah could never walk to hardened streets of normal life among us--the proletariat. 

       

Genevieve Boots

Does Oprah ever stop lying? No shot she wears Uggs. Especially not Uggs adorned with leather bows.

Beats Studio Headphones

Under what circumstance would Oprah need noise-canceling headphones? Are we expected to believe she uses public transportation?

I can't even bring myself to continue this. On a happier note Allison's List of Favorite Things hasn't changed much between 2012 and 2013. The only notable addition would be Kate Spade pendants 'cause I luhhhh dem.

The Great Pumpkin

Doing my part to commemorate 10 years of Pumpkin Spice Latte (hereinafter referred to as #PSL) by dedicating my November post to Starbucks' most storied drink.

For those who have not previously quenched their WASPy holiday thirst with this beverage, a #PSL is an espresso-based drink that is 2 parts milk, 1 part pumpkin imitation syrup, all garnished with several pinches of various psychedelic drugs. It is an American fall staple. 

I cannot speak for others, but all I know is I feel I am the most successful/prettiest version of myself when I walk out of my Starbucks with my red cup holiday cup in hand. I'm taken away to a place where I'm sitting by my house in Lake Tahoe (near an outdoor fire pit, naturally). A place where my life's only regret is not getting whipped cream on my drink. I love that place. You too can go there. I will be waiting for you.

Foreign friends tell me America is the only country as obsessed with pumpkins as we are. Of that I am unendingly proud. In an earlier post describing my trip to London I mentioned I was a fan of the Praline Mocha Latte I replaced my #PSL with while away. I now take the opportunity to clear the air--#PSL>PML no matter your preferred system of measure. People do crazy things while abroad. You just don't plan your future with your side dish, you know what I mean?

#PSL and the associated pumpkin pastries are unequivocally the most superior of the Starbucks holiday spread. Gingerbread Latte? Waste of time. Salted Caramel Mocha Latte? I am a busy lady and therefore I don't have time to verbalize the extra word in the drink's name. Caramel Brulee Latte? That's just pretentious. And can anyone even tell me what Egg Nog is? Didn't think so. 

If you have not had a #PSL today you must run, do not walk, to your nearest Starbucks and partake immediately. It always warms my soul. Happy Birthday, #PSL! To 10 more years. 

Felina

Last summer I embarked on my first foray into TV analysis by predicting possible Breaking Bad outcomes--and let me just say it was nothing short of prophetic. Just kidding. Has anyone heard from Huell?

First order of business: One for three.

Jessie did, in fact, split off from Walt. I couldn't have predicted his fate of meth slave, but I was close. Is it OD that I actually felt a pang of nostalgia every time there was a flashback to Walt and Jesse's early days of cooking foolery? Can't we just go back to the simpler times?

Skyler did not die and after reading Anna Gunn's NYT op-ed I feel remorseful for ever hoping she would. That's actually a lie. Maybe it's girl on girl crime to wish ill on a fictional character but just LET ME LIVE, Anna. Just let me live.

The Germans didn't invade the American meth market and I actually think it's for the best. The US-based criminals on the show were horrifying enough (looking at you, Todd). 

Second order of business: Felina.

I am a huge sucker for TV conspiracy theories, especially when a show I love immensely comes to an end. In the case of Felina, My thirst for more information has proven insatiable.

I was pointed to this one article postulating that Walt froze to death in the car and the remaining events in the episode were nothing more than a dying man's cancer-induced fantasy. As much as I love closure, I have to agree with the idea that Vince Gilligan really would have been pushing the limits of the deus ex machina plot device by allowing Walt to tie up every loose end and die a (relatively) content man in his favorite place in the world--a chemistry lab. Everything worked out too perfectly and Walt has never operated under perfect circumstances. Think about it.

(PS I know I'm the only one trying to franch [french and ranch] happen but I tried it and it was exquisite with chicken nuggets. May these two dressings enjoy their holy blessed condiment matrimony eternally).

Recap

It has been 79 days since my last post. That's almost two full Lents. I blame myself  work everyone except me. So thanks for nothing, everybody.

Because I've managed to go so long without posting anything I figured I may as well take the time to publicly announce my failures. What better way to accomplish this than to revisit my New Year's Resolutions for 2013 ? (lol RIP):

- Read at least four full-length fiction books. For pleasure/personal fulfillment--with the goal of learning absolutely nothing (any personal discovery does not constitute a violation of this resolution). 
Just who exactly did I think I was kidding with this one? I don't even have time properly tend to my eyebrows let alone read fiction for personal development. Does reading news about justifications to take military action in Syria count? Because at this point that feels like fiction;

- Go home to New Jersey for (at least) one weekend completely dedicated to volunteering for the restore the shore effort.
In my defense I've been on a very aggressive and strict brunch schedule so there just really hasn't been much room for charity;

- Learn to cook something other than oatmeal and cereal. However I am not cutting Trix cereal out of my life. I'm no sadist.
I haven't learned one thing all year about cooking. On a victorious note -- I definitely haven't cut Trix cereal out of my life. It remains an essential;

- Finish 2 marathons and/or half-marathons. 
I did just one, but now I have a jawbone that buzzes my wrist when I'm being lazy/don't run in the morning. Additionally, some days I even run/walk the equivalent of a half marathon (!!), so I get half credit at least;

- Call people for no reason other than to just talk. Sans agenda. 
This was a joke. I always have an agenda when I communicate and it consistently involves emojis. Meaningful human interaction is just not going to happen this year (or next);

- Travel to somewhere I haven't already been.
☑Check. I went to France in May even after losing my passport mere weeks before departure;

- Gangnam style for an audience of greater than 30 people and receive a standing ovation.
....;

- Reduce my daily caffeine intake.
I've actually increased it. I had my very first venti coffee last week and shit was supreme. Now that PSL season is upon us I don't expect to make many improvements in this category for the remainder of 2013.

Going to be more realistic in 2014, for sure. 

Parfait Party

Nary a day goes by without someone stopping me in my tracks to ask the following question:

"Hey Allison, would love to know how you grew up to be so tall and not a total embarrassment at fancy restaurants. What exactly is your secret?"

Normally I'm of the belief that people have no business intruding on my culinary affairs, but as a post Fourth of July Weekend (RIP) present to everyone I am finally going to do an E! True Hollywood style post debunking one of my greater discoveries--the Allison Parfait: 

Ingredients and Directions:

1 coffee mug Trix Cereal (of the Wild Berry Red Swirl variety)

1 small container Chobani lime greek yogurt

1 sliced banana

Mix all ingredients, garnish with extra Trix berries and voila! Decadence. 

The Allison Parfait is absolutely delicious, requires no appliances whatsoever, and is relatively cost-effective. Best served in a Target cereal bowl. Points if it is the only bowl (of any size) you own.

(Suggested Wine Pairing: Franzia)

This post is in memoriam of Paula Deen's once storied career in food preparation lacking any semblance of nutritional value. Had she not faced retroactive crucifixion, she probably would have featured this dish on the Food Network in the coming days.

North West-Kardashian

I thought the Kardashians had their hands in everything worth having hands in already: music; sports; TV; fashion; sex tapes (ew). 

But then Kim Kardashian had a baby. With Kanye West. And they used the opportunity to officially usurp one of the only cardinal truths the human race has: ordinal direction; and specifically, North West.

I've written on this topic already, but by way of recap I believe the naming of a child should be one of the most sacred responsibilities a parent has. You shouldn't just name your baby with only future brand potential in mind. I'd like to call it a careless mistake but I know Kimye better than anyone. Naming their girl North West was a carefully calculated decision based on definite wide-scale press coverage and projected merch sales. Vom. Is embryonic stress disorder a thing?

Leave it to the Kardashians to just keep getting more ridiculous. And leave it to me to continue watching their shows regardless of how I feel about their [morally regrettable] life choices. 

Also, I heard Kanye's recently dropped 'Yeezus' is forgettable. That's a discussion for another day.

Open Letter to Skechers

Dear Skechers,

Heard the good news. Buzzfeed informs me that you've brought back light-up shoes. 

I am so impressed by your movement away from the modest, sensible, and horribly blasé look of your footwear. Everyone knows children are better, faster, stronger when wearing shoes equipped with lasers. Marc Rosko, Vice-President of product development for Skechers Kids (and ipso facto certifiable creep) has purported the light-up shoes to be the cornerstone of a "renaissance period" for children's shoes. Couldn't agree more.

Before today I would have said I'd rather die than wear Skechers. Now I want you. I want all of you. Forever. You and me. Every day.

I realize this 'Twinkle Toes' line is primarily for children, but I'll just say I'm usually somewhere in the size range of 8 through 9. Just send me all three. 

Love to hate to love you,

Allison

Asylum House

This is the story...of two whistleblowers...on the run from Western governments...who agreed to have their lives in virtual exile taped...to find out what happens...when dissidents stop being polite...and start getting real.

ASYLUM HOUSE

Two Whistleblowers. One Embassy. Endless Drama.



If properly exploited, MTV could really reach new heights in the world of reality television. Teen Mom is getting a bit tired. Pregnant and Dating is good but predictable (it usually turns out that nobody wants to date pregnant people). The Kardashians have pretty much done it all at this point. Survivor is just....Survivor. Dance Moms is still great, but we need more than just one night a week of good television. Asylum House is inevitably the way forward in trash TV.

Julian Assange has already advised Edward Snowden via CNN to head for Latin America, which is all but a direct invitation to co-inhabit the Ecuadorean Embassy in London. The show would chronical the mutual struggle between the two of coping with loss of normalcy, life in the global limelight and the day-to-day struggles of living inside one house under constant threat for the foreseeable future. What happens beyond that is up to the cameras to capture. 

Expect Asylum House to begin pre-taping in the coming months and air during Spring 2014.

Open Letter to Post-Red Taylor Swift

Dear Taylor,

This week I noticed your 'Red' Album was finally fully available on Spotify (thanks I guess). I'll admit I made snap judgements about it before I even gave it a chance. So I listened to it completely through while at work yesterday--and this is what I feel:

Just STOP STOP STOP with the doe-eyed sadness/surprise when you do whatever it is you do to drive men away. Are you a stalker? Just curious. Doesn't matter.  I don't mean to send you mixed signals--I definitely still want you to have failed relationships, I just want you to be angrier about it. You need to be Carrie Underwood 'Before He Cheats' angry. What happened to the Taylor who put out Picture to Burn? I flove that song.

This is my advice to you, Taylor: The whole world knows that in the face of heartbreak there is really only one song we can all count on to encapsulate our emotions. It also doubles as a solid example of an instance in which the Glee version of a song is better than the original. From now on I need you to draw your inspiration from this:

"Bust Your Windows"

That's advice for the future. Back to what went wrong in 'Red'.

Songs I Really Hated/Made Me Feel Uncomfortable:

22

I Almost Do

Starlight 

Yet amid musical doom, there was light. My favorite song on the album is decidedly All Too Well. While I understand the albums are your personal medium for self-expression, I appreciate the music so much more when I bring it back to myself. And maybe that's what you want me to do. But ain't nobody got time for that. So I only had time to like this one song.

There you have it--a mildly positive review of your most recent album. But I swear to God, Taylor, if you EVER say anything negative about Tina Fey/Amy Poehler EVER AGAIN I will find you and end you.

Other than that, I'm here for you. Offer still stands to ghost-write your Burn Book.
Allison

La Vie Parisienne

Two weeks ago I was in Paris. Le sigh. Such a good time almost entirely on my company's dime. Sometimes being a grown-ass woman isn't so bad. 

My trip to Paris was my very first time visiting a country for which I have absolutely NO language skills. None. Oui? Oui. But that didn't stop me from making lots of new French friends. And by French friends I mean coworkers from various offices around the world that happened to be in France. Does that make them French? Anyway...

Really the main purpose of my trip was to attend a conference with my group and "network" (vom) with my team's global offices. Nothing I love more than breaking into working groups in which everyone pledges to do something better or to create protocols no one plans on implementing. But I'm not a hater. Send me to any country and I'm down to talk about whatever.

Professional take away messages most applicable to me? Hierarchy disappears on the dance floor. My sweet moves are what I bring to the proverbial table. I'm convinced that's my one true competitive advantage. In reality, after the hellish weeks we've been having at work as of late, my friends and I probably looked more like this:

But that's okay. I'm positive we looked great doing it. Golden Girl at stage left is doing my signature move--in case anyone was wondering.

Other than the conference:

I was the princess of Chantilly;

I saw the Eiffel Tower;

I ate my weight in cheese, wine and baguettes;

I met my long lost twins;

I owned everyone/everything;

I found myself at a place called VIP Room, where one of my cultural spirit animals, Nicki Minaj, has performed. Obviously didn't know this at the time--or I would have made sure I never washed the dress I wore there ever again.

Ready for my next adventure!

--Fin.--

Memory Hoarding

It's official. My passport (est. 2006) is lost and has to be replaced. Whilst searching my apartment I came to realize something about myself--and as we well know the first step to sustainable recovery is public and shame-inducing admission. So, here we go...

My name is Allison. I am a Memory-Hoarder.

After a rigorous Google session I was able to conclusively determine memory hoarding is both under-researched and severely under-treated. I visited the WebMD Symptom Checker and selected my irregularities (excessive sweating, feeling fearful, food cravings, inability to care for self and short stature) and my result was agoraphobia. Thanks, WebMD. Clearly going to have to define memory hoarding myself:

Memory Hoarding (n.) - A disorder characterized by an inability to distinguish between true mementos and clutter. The patient often experiences temporary paralysis at the very idea of being under-prepared for any life circumstance. Justifies hoarding with claims of the clutter having intrinsic value.

I am undoubtedly MH+. Here are some of the gems I uncovered during my search:

- My Juice Jam ticket from 2007--signed by Stephan Jenkins of Third Eye Blind. How many times have I seen 3eb? 15? 20? I think that era of my life is definitely over. I don't need to relive any of those concerts. 

- A football ticket stub from Syracuse v. University of Washington (?) from the same year. I'm sure that was a great time with all my awkward first month of freshman year friends. Love you guys.

- A field hockey shirt that realistically hasn't touched my body in at least 7 years. Emblazoned with the typical field hockey mantra "Don't let the skirt fool you" across the chest, this t-shirt may very well be the most regrettable/embarrassing purchase of my entire life.

- Immigration papers that nobody ever bothered to collect from me in Brazil (but what if I ever go back and they realize they never took them from me???)

- Hotel room keys from a work trip to NYC. Necessary.

- Model UN placard from the year I represented Kazakhstan. Ok.

- "Get Well Soon" cards from 4th grade. Good memory.

- 2 or 3 pairs of headphones with one or both earphones broken.

- 8 empty shampoo/condish bottles lining my shower.

It's time for a life change. I need to revamp the organizational structure of my apartment. My passport was the first victim of my hoarding and it's not farfetched to think my cat will be next.

But mostly I want to know: Do you think my condition is grounds enough to check into some ritzy celebrity rehab, or am I going to need to get caught driving drunk and in possession coke like Lindsey Lohan? I just want to know what my options are.

Thank you and Goodbye.

Open Letter to Amanda Bynes

Dear Amanda Bynes,

Go home to LA to be with your parents. You're scaring the people of NYC. Your career is salvageable.

You and your Nickelodeon braintrust were among the most influential pioneers during the advent of the World Wide Web via AmandaPlease.com. Has anyone ever told you with great power comes great responsibility?

Even when you left Nickelodeon you were heading toward greatness. Your performance in She's the Man? My God. You were loving up on Channing Tatum before any of the rest of us even thought to do it. And now look at you.

Driving with a suspended license? That's relatable. Clearly I've never done it but I know people who have and they seem normal. Smoking weed at a Planet Fitness on 4/20? What? Cryptic tweets about murdering your vagina? Girlfriend, THAT'S WEIRD.

I get it--I really do. You were a child celebrity and we saw what happened to MacCaulay Culkin but that is NO EXCUSE. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AMANDA.

Your train wreck stage is hitting me harder than when Britney had her episodes--and I was sure that sort of pain couldn't be paralleled. Don't let me down. And don't shave your head.

Concerned,

Allison

Justin Timberlake: Back With A Vengeance

I woke up yesterday morning with butterflies in my stomach, feeling slightly feverish and a little anxious.

Was it because of Opening Day for Baseball (haha #yankees)?
Was it because I kept hearing about Kevin Ware's shin disaster during the Louisville game?

No. None of that. I knew yesterday was going to be the day I would finally have the opportunity to listen to Justin Timberlake's entire "20/20 Experience" album from start to finish. And so I did.

The album will undoubtedly have historical repercussions. The inaugural song, Pusher Love Girl, really brings new definition to the baby making music genre. Everyone else, step aside.

Listening to Justin Timberlake's music is the closest I've ever come to wanting a romantic yet tempestuous relationship with something non-human. Has Lovestoned/I Think She Knows finally met it's match? What about John Mayer's version of Free Falling? Can you believe there was a time when the thought of John Mayer, self-diagnosed bad boy, singing to me made me melt? I know, I know. I'm embarrassed too. But I'm a grown-ass woman now and I'm getting serious about JT.

Right now my feelings about Justin Timberlake are measuring up to be as strong as my feelings for Beyoncé. Welcome Back, JT, now please cuddle with me.

Girl Scout Cookie Madness

Last year's March Madness bracket was a disaster. There is no denying it. So this year I decided to fill out my own kind of bracket. One allowing me to really blossom:

By default the first round of the Girl Scout Cookie Madness tournament was an Elite Eight competition--and I have to say--it was fierce. All Girl Scout Cookies are winners in their own ways (except for Do-si-dos). Seriously, does anyone out there feel passionately about Do-si-dos?

Tourament Highlights

Tournament Winner: Tagalongs. Tagalongs have a long and proud history of being one of the league's premiere clubs, and to no surprise they really brought the heat in 2013. They are peanut buttery. They are delicious. They are patty-ful. They are amazing in DQ Blizzard form. What more can one ask for? Champion of all champions.

Biggest Sleeper: Savannah Smiles. The Smiles are a relatively new program with a budget notably smaller than that of the more storied squads--Thin Mints, for example. Best served with tea during a midafternoon work slump, these cookies fought the good fight all the way to the finals. The Smiles left nothing to be desired on the court.

Overrated: Samoas. I find Samoas are CONSISTENTLY overrated. Additionally, I've heard whisperings of a potentially permanent name change to 'Caramel deLites'. Really? Whatever happened to predictability? Samoas are nothing more than a strange half-crunchy cohering mass of caramel, coconut and chocolate. Team Samoa has great branding, but a true bracketologist like myself sees through the fluff.

Though the bracket doesn't show it, the Thank U Berry Much was an underdog worth keeping an eye on in the first round. Being able to compete in a league where chocolate-based cookies reign supreme is a victory in and of itself. Well done.

See you all in 2014!

Misheard Lyrics

Buzzfeed published an article last month entitled 15 Classic Lines From Misunderstood Song Lyrics, and overall I have to say I am severely disappointed. The author managed to include one of my favorite misheard lyrics--Manfred Mann's "Blinded by the Light", but failed to take the mistake all the way to the finish line. Buzzfeed mentions that it sounds like "Wrapped Up Like a Douche", but then cuts off. Are you kidding? Clearly the remainder, and most important portion, of the misheard stanza is, "Another Boner in the Night." Don't believe me? Give it a listen here (:15-:24)

Disgraceful. In my family we had a very extensive list of songs we thought we knew the lyrics to, but definitely didn't. Below I outline a comprehensive list of oft-forgot but very prominent misheard lyrics:

Song: "I Wanna be Sedated" The Ramones
Misheard Lyric at :35-:38 --"20-20-20-4 hours ago-o-o-o-...I Want A Piece of Bacon..."

Song: "Higher Love"
Misheard Lyrics at :56-:58 -- "Bake Me a Pie of Love, Bake Me a Pie of Love..whoa oh."

Song: "Stayin' Alive" The Bee Gees
Misheard Lyrics at :32-:37 -- "Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother...Stay in a Line...Stay in a Line..."

(^^This particular misheard lyric was definitely a product of the neurosis injected into us all throughout during elementary school about what would happen if we didn't stay in a line on our way to an assembly.)

Song: "Bailamos" Enrique Iglesias
Misheard Lyrics at 1:08-1:13 -- "Te quiero, a burrito, Te quiero..."

Song: "Funkytown" Lipps Inc.  
Misheard Lyrics at :26-:31 --"Taco Party Taco Party Taco Party...."

Now, chronic non-believers may allege some of these might seem to be a stretch, which I can understand. But to these nay-sayers I proclaim there are OTHER instances in which I know for 100% fact I'm totally right about the lyrics.

Song: "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" Brenda Lee
Corrected Lyrics at :27-:31 "Later we'll have some fuckin' pie"

My sisters and I never asked about it--we all just assumed it was a "big girl" song that we'd be allowed to sing once we hit a certain age. Until that day came it was understood amongst the four of us that we needed to shift our volume from extreme forte to exaggerated piano to make sure we didn't drop the f bomb infront of our parents on our way to grandma's house.

Realization: With the exception of only one, which admittedly was not a misheard lyrics of my own creation, my sisters and I thought we were hearing food-related lyrics when we actually weren't...aka we were starving. All the time.

A's Analogies: Game of Thrones

True or False?

Game of Thrones : Men : Fifty Shades of Grey : Women

I just don't get it. I am officially three episodes into GoT and I remain undecided. So far the show has boasted a surplus Lord of the Rings inspired sex, which is okay, but not much progress in character development. I'm not yet rooting for or against anyone; which is curious because I normally overidentify with characters remarkably early on in my TV relationships (Peggy Olson, "Flynn" Walter Jr. [jk], Lisa Simpson).

Things Working in GoT's Favor:
- Somehow, on a cast list filled with larger than life kings, conniving queens and vengeful nomads--the show's biggest BAMF is a surly, yet shrewd, dwarf.
- 'White Walkers' as potentially deeper and more complex versions of the Walkers I'm accustomed to (The Walking Dead).
- Everything about Arya Stark.
- Adorable/loyal wolves.

I have to say--this list is disappointingly short. I know many people (albiet mostly males) who love Game of Thrones. I suppose I'll continue forth on this particular quest to quench my thirst for addictive TV, but GoT needs to step it up. Asap.

Sopranos Season Finale

You have just entered the Spoiler Zone.

Less than a week ago I finished binge-watching all 86 hours of The Sopranos. Today I'm here to talk about how I'm not sorry about being angry re: the ending.

If it is true Tony was shot to death at the end (and I'm fairly convinced he was thanks to this guy's analysis) then I am DISPLEASED. I really tried to understand the style behind how David Chase conceptualized and subsequently executed the ending. I totally realize the scene in Bobby Bacala's boat from "Soprano Home Movies" (and then flashback to the same scene during the final episode) drove home the suggestion that when you die you probably don't see it coming. I initially "oohed" and "ahhed" at the idea of something so deep and profound coming back to us during the final moments of the series. But then I came to terms with something:

As a proud NJ native with cultural and linguistic ties to North Jersey especially, I became engrossed in The Sopranos. I loved everything about it. At the outset of the final episode I was internally balancing both my sadness of the story being over and my excitement for how it would end. Further, as a novice television series aficionado I grew while watching The Sopranos. I am visually violence-averse, but I withstood -- no, soldiered through the Sopranos. By Season 6's end I was bloodthirsty, and my craving was met with just black. 

I feel that I more than earned the right to watch Tony Soprano's demise in all it's bloody, dramatic and Carmela-witnessing glory. Yet in a 2007 interview with the Star Ledger, David Chase attacked me (yes, ME) with this dagger quote:

"Anybody who wants to watch it, it's all there."

OKAY DAVID. Totally not all there, but I see I won't be getting my way.

Don't mind me. I'll just be here stewing about this until Mad Men comes back (April 7th!).

State of the Union Summary

Monarch processional.

Enter Obama. 20 minutes of handshaking and weak-kneed women literally bowing.

Raise the minimum wage and combat unemployment. It'll work...trust.

Veterans, women and elite pre-schools. Repeat after me.

Renewable resources: You can't afford them but do it for your children, k?

Apple will start making products here in the US. No, seriously.

Biden blinks. and blinks again. and hundreds more times per minute.

Cyber hackers. They gon' find you.

Boehner's pink tie with blue shirt (not a criticism, I heart his bold layering choices).

World Peace.

Legal immigration should be encouraged, but mostly what I'm saying is we need more Chinese and Indian students to stay here once we've given them our "corporate secrets".

My Healthcare Bill - 1, You - 0

Third term? Don't rule it out. 

Gun violence. 

Exit Obama.

Adios, Benedict

To the chagrin of the Pope Benedict XVI Fan Club, Roman Catholic leadership will need to select a new Pope. The process will preferably be completed before Easter, because the de facto religious leader on Easter Sunday in the absence of a Pope is the Easter Bunny--which hasn't happened in six centuries for a reason. I suspect bidding adieu to Benedict XVI isn't going to be ALL bad...

But really. It must take a lot of courage to admit you cannot adequately perform the duties of your job--especially when God is your supervisor. You do you, Benedict.

Newest VIP Member of the Cult of Domesticity

Two of my roomies from yester-summers are serious foodies (Hi, guys). The instagrams of their culinary creations are breathtaking. Truly inspiring. So naturally, when one of them asked me to blog about my contribution to the Superbowl Party I attended yesterday, how could I ignore it? If Tim Gunn were to tell you he was interested in knowing more about the process behind your fashion choices, wouldn't you oblige? It's called a "breakout moment."

This past weekend I decided to go beyond the call of snack duty and really try to make a truly delicious and memorable finger food. Despite my best intentions to produce something incredible I knew the competition for Queen of Domesticity at this particular Superbowl Party was going to be fierce. Football shaped pizzas and football cake calls were present--and they were amazing. Observe:

To help me on my quest, one of my #1 ladies at work gave me this recipe, and I'm convinced it has changed the way I will approach BYOS parties from this day forward:

Mac and Cheese Poppers

You will need:
Most of a Box of Elbow Macaroni
Most of a Bag of Sharp Cheddar Cheese (2% milk)
Most of a Bag of Mozzarella Cheese (Part Skim)
1 Cup Italian Bread Crumbs
1/4 Cup Skim Milk
2 Tablespoons Butter
2 Eggs (or just 1 egg if you get one of those alien eggs with two yolks...)

Pre-heat oven to 425F. Or whatever. Stir everything into a bowl except the macaroni. Then add the cooked macaroni to the mixture and scoop it into a greased cupcake tray. Fill the spaces generously because ain't nothin in this recipe gonna make it rise. Cook those b's for 22 minutes. Let cool for 10 mins for proper congelation. Eat those b's. Humble Brag.

Viola.

Having this recipe on a hand will undoubtedly prove to be a necessary coping mechanism to deal with me not winning a free Papa John's pizza coupon from the coin toss promotion.

Stop Pinning, Start Doing

Remember that time I said I was going to be really active on Pinterest?

For those who don't know: Pinterest is an online, primarily female, community of people who basically create collections ("boards") of recipes, JCrew clothes, home decor, butt-toning exercises and wedding centerpiece ideas. Sometimes unidentified babies are thrown into the mix. It is essentially a virtual refrigerator door or glorified cork board. 

I have come to the conclusion that Pinterest is NOT for me. I can't bake those recipes. I can't contort my body into those yoga poses. I have no interest in a 7 day juice cleanse. I don't have a multi-bedroom house to fill those crafts with...OR the skills to make crafts. I don't have a wedding to plan. I have ready access to adorable animal pictures on my iphone. I just don't have a place in the Pinterest community.

Okay--maybe I'm just bitter that nobody follows my boards. Why doesn't my collage of my favorite books' cover pages interest you people? What about my board that only has a softball glove pinned to it--are you guys saying my glove isn't fascinating?

I'm mad at everyone. 

But here's a link to my pinterest anyway. Just incase.

Destiny's Child

In light of the recent outcry over Beyoncé lip-syncing the Star Spangled Banner during the Obama Inauguration, I just wanted to remind you ingrates about what the queen has done (and can do) for you.

They say music is the most profound form of human expression. Can anybody out there name one life event/situation that cannot be most accurately described with a little less talk and a lot more Destiny's Child? Beyoncé and her crew have been there for us through it all.

I compiled a list of life's victories and struggles and subsequently placed the appropriate D. Child song written to help us get through and/or celebrate these times:

Courtship (of the 'Hard to Get Variety') : Bootylicious

First paycheck from big girl/boy job : Independent Women (Part I)

Break Ups : Survivor

Dealing with that friend that sneakily doesn't put in enough money at group dinners : Bills Bills Bills

Fridays (the expectation) : Jumpin', Jumpin'

Frenemies : Nasty Girl

Loss : Emotion

Society at War : Soldier

From middle school through present day I have been a devout follower of the spoken word and lyrical teachings of Destiny's Child and ipso facto Beyoncé. I know honesty is the best policy when speaking on religion and faith, so I will admit I've mostly fallen out of touch with Kelly and Michelle (was I ever in touch with Michelle? was anyone ever in touch with Michelle??). 

Regardless, neither of those 2 (or the 4th Child who shall remain nameless) spoke to my soul in quite the same way as Beyoncé has always been able to. When reacting to tribulations and triumphs alike I always asked myself WWBD--"What Would Beyoncé Do?" By way of consequence I have mostly managed to handle life's happenings with style, grace and just a sprinkle of booty-poppin'.

I'm not suggesting you go as far as to break ground on a new Beyoncé shrine in your closet--but all I'm saying is each night I kneel beside my bed and ask Beyoncé to watch over me and guide me during every stage of my decision-making processes; and I never make the wrong choices. 

Be grateful for what she's done for you; and more importantly what she will CONTINUE to do for you despite your gross lack of respect. Beyoncé loves us all even when we are too selfish/mortal to appreciate it.