Archive | November, 2013

Thankful

29 Nov

Hope everybody had a great national hangover day Thanksgiving! I am not a fan of Turkey, so I’m first and foremost thankful to be a Daddy’s girl because we had chicken at our house instead.

Anyway, I saw the list below (in photo form) on my Facebook news feed and it inspired me to do some thinking. Sure we’re all thankful for the usual things: friends, family, a job, etc., but what about the pesky things in our life? I first thought about this during the government shutdown, I occasionally heard comments about how a government shutdown in other countries throughout the world is an everyday part of life, where there is no stable government. Yes I know, I’m comparing apples and oranges with the US vs. Syria, but still something to think about!

Hope you enjoy the list! You’ll finish and say “OMG #SOTRUE”.

#brohugs

I am thankful for…

The clothes I fit a little too snug, because it means I have enough to eat.

My shadow who watches me work because it means I am out in the sunshine.

A lawn that has to be mowed, windows that need to be washed and gutters that need fixing because it means I have a home.

The spot I find at the far end of the parking lot because it means I am capable of walking.

All of the complaining I hear about our government because it means we have freedom of speech.

The lady behind me in church who sings off key because it means I can hear.

The huge piles of laundry and ironing because it means my loved ones are nearby.

The alarm that goes off at 6 am because it means I’m alive.

 

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What I’m Thankful For: Postgrad Edition

28 Nov

by Brownout Betty

In general, there are, of course, many things to be thankful for today, from the poop emoji to the (hopeful) mercy that the SR editorial gods will have on me for being late posting this (Mama Betty put me to work in the kitchen, I’m sorry!). But there is a particular category of things I’m thankful for this year, since it’s the first time in my postgrad era that my parents are hosting BrownoutGiving. So it’s this particular sensation of truly coming #homefortheholidays that’s spurring a lot of thankful thoughts. Here are the top 10 things this postgrad is thankful for:

10. That I wasn’t the deadbeat jobless weirdo at the high school reunion on Thanksgiving eve. Always good to be able to tell people you’re at least employed.

9. That my relatives broke out the wine before I headed to said high school reunion. Nothing like a little liquid courage, amirite?

8. That my parents didn’t raise their eyebrows too high at my extreme enthusiasm for said wine. Stealth alcoholism, achieved.

7. That I didn’t repeat college mistakes and make out with that rando from high school whose charms drunken Betty just can’t seem to resist.

6. That my mom had a heating pad readily available for me when I woke up this morning with a roaring backache thanks to the janky ass mattress that now occupies my bed (Baby Betty, Brownout Betty’s scheming sister, stole my Tempurpedic the second I left the house but we’re not talking about it).

5. That there’s still like half a drawer of space for my stuff in my room after everyone and their mother started treating it like a storage closet. #thanksguys

4. That even though Mama Betty’s fancy digital scale is delivering bad news on the weight gain front, it’s fancy and digital so AT LEAST I KNOW THE HARD TRUTH (this one was painful to even type out, folks).

Belle, babe, you were so right.

3. That Daddy Brownout was kind enough to bring me Dunkin Donuts coffee AND orange juice for my post-Thanksgiving-eve hangover this morning, all without asking questions.

2. That I’ve managed to get the family so focused on my future grad school plans that no one is remembering to ask me about whether I have a boyfriend.

1. That I was able to come home for Thanksgiving rather than already being here – in other words, that I don’t still live in this place, and that after a few days I’m out of here again. 

 

Whether you’re home with the family or home in your freezing postgrad apartment with Netflix as your replacement family or somewhere else, we want to hear what you’re thankful for! Leave us a comment and let us know. Happy Thanksgiving from the SR ladies!

A Little Appreciation For Cheese

27 Nov

Happy Almost Thanksgiving, dearest Readers! We all have so much to be thankful for during this time of year. Our family, friends, lovers, jobs, freedom, John Stamos, Netflix, wine, iPhones, google maps, leather boots, etc… and roughly in that order. I could go on and on about any number of people or events in my life that I have to be thankful for. However, there is something that I feel goes unnoticed – something we take for granted that maybe you never considered thanking.

Cheese.

Cheese is God’s gift to humanity. One of the 7 great wonders of this universe. (I’ll cover the other 6 another time.)

I legitimately eat cheese every single day. Sometimes with other food, like on a sandwich or melted on top of broccoli. Other times, I just reach into my fridge, pull out some brie, and have at it. For me, cheese is its own food group. Just last night I was eating homemade mac n’ cheese, topped with shredded cheese, with a cheese quesadilla on the side. (Think I’m joking? Then you clearly don’t understand my love of formaggio.)

I don’t discriminate between cheeses either. Mozzerella, Colby Jack, Cheddar, Swiss, Brie, Gouda, Feta, Parmigiano, Asiago, Romano, Provolone, Bleu, Monteray, American, and so so so so so many more…

It is my source of all dietary happiness. And I know that I am not alone. Ask anyone on the street what they would give up instead of cheese… Answers will vary between chocolate to their left arm.

When I am hungry, I eat cheese.
When I am sad, I eat cheese.
When I am hangry, I eat cheese.
When I am bored, I eat cheese.
When I am drunk, I eat cheese.
When I am hungover, I eat cheese.
When I am driving, I eat cheese.
When I am walking, I eat cheese.
When I am watching TV, I eat cheese.
When I am getting dressed, I eat cheese.
When I am working out (ha), I eat cheese.
When I am any type of emotion, I eat cheese.
When I am sick, I eat cheese.
When I am facebook creeping, I eat cheese.
When I am sitting in meetings, I eat cheese.
When I am blogging, I eat cheese.

All of humanity’s favorite dishes contain this blessed food. And if they don’t, then odds are, you can add it. And it’ll taste even more extraordinary.

As usual, Buzzfeed sums it up better than I ever could.

So on this Holiday, when we celebrate everything that has been good to us this year… Let’s not forget about those little bits of heaven that greet our taste-buds with glorious fireworks of joy and make life just a little bit happier.

Thank you, Cheese. I love you.

Forever Yours,

Belle

Gracias DC… Stay Classy

26 Nov

by Stacie Smack

Thanksgiving makes me uncomfortable. All the warmth makes me sweat uncontrollably. I like to keep things at a cool 45 F where there’s no threat of melting. Anyways, here are 10 things I am thankful about while living in DC:

1. Brunch –  the most effective way to forget the man who’s bed you just left and last name don’t know.

2. Crowded commuter metro – so many people and so many smells, nobody notices when you accidentally fart or forget to put deodorant.

3. Sign of the Whale – the perfect mix of dancing, alcohol, and desperation.

4. Plan B – now sold over the counter!

5. Jumbo Slice/Sol – the weight I’ve added and the number of clothes I’ve had to buy because of it may be single-handedly keeping the US economy afloat.

6. This guy – for reminding me that I probably will never be able to turn down a $3 billion offer.

7. Netflix – I don’t think I’ve finished a single book this year, but I have rewatched Gossip Girl three times now. Grad school get ready!

8. My overpriced rent – at least it helps me make sure I don’t spend too much on new clothes! Or food…

9. WebMD’s discretion and lack of pictures – it makes googling “pre ejaculation fluid” at work much less risky.

10. “Black Friday” now starting at 8pm on Thursday – and America continues to charm me day by day.

 

There’s so much to be thankful for

25 Nov

By Capitol Jill

This week at Stop Requested, we are each going to write about something we are thankful for, to remember that although men suck, we’re underpaid, and life is hard, there are good things about life!

Its so easy to dwell on the negative things in my life, the daily struggles and the constant stress. Body issues, money issues, friend issues, single-dom issues – it gets REALLY HARD to be an adult!

Especially in the winter. I get SAD (aka Seasonal Affective Disorder) when its dark before I leave work.

But lately I’ve been trying to remember exactly what I have to be thankful for. Cheesy Thanksgiving table cliche aside, multiple studies show that remembering the positive, uplifting parts of your life really do make you a happier person.

So, in the spirit of the season (and to combat SAD), I decided to jot down what I am most thankful for.

Suggested music while reading: Thankful by Josh Groban.

…So what am I most thankful for?…

My friends!

Moving to DC right after college was HARD, guys. I had lived in the same dorm with pretty much the same people for four years. In fact, I always lived on the same floor! In a small, sleepy college town. All my friends were less than a 10 minute walk (or 5 minute drive) away. After heading home for exactly three days, I packed up and moved to DC. I’m not gonna lie, it was really lonely at first.

Sure,  I had my job, and my coworkers were great. But without my usual support network, I found myself staying in bed on the weekends and watching Netflix instead of going out and living my life.

But you know what? Things got better. I reached out to everyone I knew in the city, from all parts of my life. I decided I would make a new circle of friends, a new DC family.

These days, I feel so blessed to have such good friends. If this blog is any evidence, these girls are pretty fabulous. How did I get so lucky? I get to live with my best friend, Carlos Danger. I get to be with Betty, Stacey, Belle and Anne at least once a week. I have so many great people in this city to support me, comfort me, and buy  me Ben and Jerry’s.

And to my other friends all over the city? Thanks for making my life rock, no matter how broke or dateless I am.

Girls, I love you.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Love,

Capitol Jill

How To Survive (Chapter 1): The Birthday Weekend

20 Nov

How To Survive is a new and recurring blog topic/theme that all of us SR ladies will be taking on at some point (similar to I Don’t Support That). Given the timing, I thought it would be appropriate to have the first one be about Surviving Birthdays.

As some of you may have seen via twitter, previous blog posts, or just sheer intuition that something ridiculous was happening, my birthday is today!

Although I fully intend on partying like a rockstar tonight (Karaoke craziness at Hill Country – be there), the celebration of my birth actually began on Thursday with a spontaneous happy hour with co-workers. It swiftly continued into Friday and Saturday with a quadruple birthday party for a few different November babies, and tentatively ended on Sunday with my leg in a knee brace and a popsicle in hand.

Although I am alive today to see myself actually reach the bright age of 24, clearly my weekend left me a little less functioning than when I started out. Thus, I have decided to recount some of the top experiences of this past week and ponder what I did right, and where I probably could have prepared better.

1. DO: Celebrate multiple times! I, like many, did not actually have a “weekend” birthday this year. Which meant I felt the need to celebrate Thursday-Saturday and today, each time with a different group. This works out perfectly when you are trying to spend time with different groups of friends. Because let’s be honest, it generally sucks mixing friend groups. The last thing you want to be responsible for (*ahem* actually you shouldn’t be responsible for anything) on your birthday is dodging between each group to make sure everyone is entertained.

2. DON’T: Unknowingly enter an all night drinking fest with co-workers without being prepared. Spontaneous birthday happy hours are awesome. Don’t get me wrong. But whenever your co-workers decide to take you out on Thursday and you manage to make it to 4 different bars before 11pm, maybe think about just how badly you want that next birthday shot at Mighty Pint. Because you have to rally for the following day… and ain’t nobody got time for a hungover birthday b-iotch.

3. DO: Be friends with awesome party planners. Capital Jill was sweet enough to host a birthday bash for 4 of us who all had birthdays within a week of each other. She made us a cookie cake, had streamers and balloons everywhere, and even reserved spots for us in the bars we went to. So a good tip? Have a friend like Jill on your side.

4. DON’T: Forget your most basic supplies. Jill had everything… Except Toilet paper. Please remember to have enough toilet paper so that you don’t have to switch to paper towels as backup. Chafing on your birthday is not an option.

5. DO: Pay close attention to what you’re eating and drinking leading up to the epic event(s). I knew Friday and Saturday would amount to at least 6 shots each night followed by whatever cheap beer X-guy at the bar wanted to offer me while I was sporting my Birthday crown. So I prepared. Chugging at least a liter of water during the day, and choosing some delicious carb foods at night made sure that my stomach was ready for whatever my liver wasn’t.

6. DON’T: Seriously injure yourself (or at least have a good story for it). As I mentioned, my knee is in a brace. It’s currently the size of my thigh and contains all the colors of Joseph’s Technicolored Dreamcoat (which obvs I can recite). It’s the most beautiful dislocated patella I’ve ever seen… Unfortunately I don’t have a story. I was quite literally standing on the corner of a street (pre-bar scene) and my knee gave out. Darn Genetics… No, that didn’t stop me. Granted, I looked like a fool hobbling along with my arm around Carlos Danger for balance for the next 3 hours, but I still made it to Little Miss Whiskey’s like a champ. Alas, I haven’t figured out if that was necessarily my smartest decision, as now I can barely bend it. #birthdayshenanigans

These, dear readers, are a few helpful hints that I have gathered over the past week on how to survive my own Birthday Shenanigans. I’m sure there are plenty more where that came from. Hopefully by the time another SR birthday rolls around, we will have an entirely new list for you!

Until then,

Belle

Jingle All The Way

19 Nov

Somehow, next week is Thanksgiving… I’m not sure how that happened, but I guess that explains why I’m starting to see, hear, and smell Christmas EVERYWHERE. It’s time to pull the onesie out of storage, replace my white wine supply with caramel baileys and hot cocoa, and give into the holiday season (i.e. begin hibernation).

So to get you (and mostly me) started and put you in the holiday mood, here’s a little treat from some underwear company, in case you haven’t seen it.

Meanwhile, I’ll be back here trying to convince some of my (soon to be ex) guy friends to remake that video…

(H/T @ http://www.thegloss.com)

 

I Don’t Support That: Volume III – The Ugg Boot

18 Nov

By Capitol Jill

Well, friends, it was a big weekend around here. Us SR ladies got together to fete our very own Belle En Route, along with Carlos Danger and two other birthday kiddos. Life got a bit crazy — shots were taken, burritos were consumed (SOL SOL SOL), and dignity was lost left and right. Injuries were reported, but we all survived. Somehow. Lost items include a pink thong and a shot glass necklace, so drop us a line if you find those somewhere…

Now this kind of weekend? I fully support. That is not the point of this article.

The point of this post is to discuss something that I Don’t Support. This is a controversial one amongst my acquaintance, but I firmly put this item in the undesirable column. What am I talking about?

UGG BOOTS.

Excuse me while I barf, if only because I drank so much this weekend that my stomach is confused.

I NEVER understood the appeal of these boots. I mean, I get that they are warm. I went to college in the Midwest. I KNOW cold. But there are many other boots that are JUST AS WARM that don’t make you look like a tourist with kankles.

Another problem with this as “winter footwear”? Absolutely NO traction. I saw so many ladies fall on their butts while trekking to class in these things. i respect the need to wear full protective clothing when it is 20 below, but this is just not OK. And have you seen how disgusting these boots get after a few trips through the snow? Get real boots.

The worst part about Uggs, though, is how UGLY they are. Like, who thought that was cute? And they do absolutely nothing to one’s overall appearance.  again, just my opinion here, but I really think that even the prettiest ,thinnest girl automatically looks chubbier in these boots.

see? thats like, 10 added ankle pounds. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

I know you might love them, but I hate them. And my personal guru for life, Belle, also despises them. So if you don’t trust me, trust her!

My verdict: I Don’t Support That.

source

Thanks, Grace. You’re my fav.

BYEEEEEEEEE.

XOXO,

Capitol Jill

Love knows no limits

15 Nov

So, confession. I spend hundreds of dollars a month on Uber (since cutting back on the social schedule, this bill has also cut back, MUCH needed relief to my overprotective father’s wallet). Uber is my weakness, and the most stable, reliable relationship in my life currently. I can be in DuPont at 8am, or H Street at 3am, and still, always, without fail, Uber is there to whisk me away.

Not only is the whole process a serious breeze, especially in taxi-problem-ridden DC, you get to ROLL UP IN A BLACK CAR OR SUV. In a town where you never know who is on the other side of those tinted windows, you better believe I act important when I go LITERALLY anywhere in an Uber. (ugh, #ThisTown)

i have ARRIVED

Uber has gotten me out of some pretty sticky (literally) situations, hence the stability of our relationship. Allow me to outline the five best, or worst, moments of our relationship:

5.) The time I spilled a Hurricane on myself

After a particular rowdy night at Little Miss Whiskey’s, I thought it was a good idea to bring my unfinished Hurricane along for my journey home in my purse, the same purse that suffered a horrible fate a few weeks later. Obviously, I was wearing 4 inch wedges and ate shit on H street en route to my Uber, and obviously, the full Hurricane half in my purse half in my hand covered my whole body in a sticky slushy mess. Even still, my Uber driver accepted me with love and clorox wipes to rinse off.

4.) The time I hooked up in the back

Self-explanatory, I was very drunk (duh), and our “two stops” quickly turned to just one. (It was a VERY PG hookup, don’t go thinking I’m that kind of girl)

3.) The time I was stranded at National Harbor

I found myself at The Gaylord during CPAC (honestly, I don’t even know how I got there, but I was with a gaggle of Republicans, clearly I was fine), and then suddenly found myself at 4am VERY READY TO GO HOME, TO VERY NW DC. Uber? PICKED ME UP WITHIN 10 MINUTES, AND 87 DOLLARS LATER I WAS IN BED.

2.) The time I threw up in a $300 purse

I was on a long journey home from H street (I’m sensing a pattern here), it was 90 degrees outside, it was a jerky car ride, I had way too much vodka/gin/wine/fireball/beer etc, and it just happened. I vaguely remember being half asleep, as I often am, and as a fairly regular drunk vomit-er, I knew I had approximately 30 seconds before shit got real. I looked around for a bag, a water bottle, ANYTHING to avoid the $300+ cleaning charge for getting sick in an Uber. I was a girl scout, I knew how to be resourceful, so I used my $300 Tory Burch purse as a trash receptacle until the driver realized what was happening and pulled over. Bless his heart, he didn’t kick me out, and he even tried to help me clean up (I have some pride, I CLEARLY refused). Looking back, it would have PROBABLY made more sense to throw up in the car, as I’m now out my favorite purse.

1.) The time I LEFT A BURRITO IN THE CAR

TRAGIC HORRIBLE THE WORST NIGHT OF MY LIFE. I had a beautiful, perfect burrito from SR’s beloved Sol, and I was headed home from a long night on H street. Again, I was half asleep in the back seat when we pulled up to my house. I hopped out and headed into my kitchen, only to realize……I LEFT MY UNTOUCHED VIRGIN BURRITO IN THE BACKSEAT. I think I cried before curling up, truly alone, in my bed.

So you see, DC, nobody will ever replace my one true love, Uber. SOMEHOW, it’s honestly so unclear how, I was recently informed, my Uber rating is 4.7/5. THEY LOVE ME RIGHT BACK. Uber has been there for me so many times before, and I know they will be there for me again tonight, tomorrow morning, tomorrow night, Sunday morning, and beyond. If you haven’t tried them yet….. never read this blog again try it out, and let me know how it goes. Everybody has at least ONE good Uber story, my life just happens to be one hot mess after another.

PS: Missed connection moment: mystery Uber driver who was lucky enough to eat my burrito, please buy me a new one, it’s been months and I’m still not over it.

We Tried it, so You Don’t Have to: At-Home Wax Kit

14 Nov

The Product:

Extra Strength All-Over Wax Kit from Sally Hansen

So, I’ve been waxing forever. Sometimes I get lazy and shave, but generally, I try to wax every six weeks, because I am not a fan of the bushy look, and before you get all feministy on my ass, let me clarify that yes, I do it because I feel sexier and because I am convinced that men are more likely to go down on me if I do. I am (sometimes) a walking stereotype and I sleep with assholes who would agree. Kthnxbi.

Honestly, I don’t know what possessed me to do any of the following.

I was at CVS, waiting for a prescription, casual. That’s how they get you. And so I thought: hey, maybe I should try doing it myself! I’m fiercely independent and I would save money blah blah blah. I usually exclusively associate Sally Hansen with nail polish, but given that it was the only brand at the store, I went for it. I have waxed my legs on my own before, and I had seen it done billions of times!! How hard could it be?

That’s when I should have knocked some sense into myself. But I didn’t.

Instead, I drank a glass of wine because OOF, what a day plus it’s a soft painkiller. Logical.

I took the lid of the blue jar, which contains the wax. As indicated in the instructions, I microwaved it for 30 seconds. Now this is a key step, because if you don’t follow instructions, the wax can explode in the microwave, and you do NOT want to deal with that mess. The wax came out melted but not scalding. Good sign.

The first issue arose when I forgot that there was no lid on the jar. I wasn’t paying attention and I spilled wax on my floor. But I moved on, because I needed to wax; I could deal with the floor later (still haven’t).

The next question was: how do I position myself to reach all the necessary key areas while being able to use the kit. I sat on the floor, and using the above shown popsicle sticks I dabbed some wax on the relevant skin portion.

Important note: Always apply the wax in the direction of hair growth. Pull in the opposite direction.

I then took one of the white cloth strips and placed it on the wax. The first pull was easy. As soon as I pulled I put my hand on the area and applied pressure (something suggested on the instructions and done by wax professionals). The area seemed mostly clear of hair. It was promising.

I moved on to a new area. When I went to pull the strip, it did not work and the wax stayed on the skin. I tried a second time and nothing happened. Except for pain. I decided to give it a rest and move to the other side. Again, wax stayed on skin, and pain. At this point, things were starting to get messy. I accidentally dripped some more wax on my skin, and all the patting started getting wax on my hands. After some more pain, I decided to quit. It was NOT happening.

My strategy then was to hop in the shower and wash off the wax. Except for that I forgot the tiny detail that wax and water don’t mix. So there I was, covered in wax, unable to really do anything. I tried using shampoo, body wash, face wash, and conditioner to get the remaining wax off my bikini (and hands, stomach, and legs that somehow ended up also covered in wax).

Problem number seven billion arose when I decided to shave, since the waxing had failed. Needless to say, the results were disastrous, given that I was still somehow covered in wax. After running my hands under hot water for 20 minutes, I managed to get most of the wax off my hands, enough to do regular shower things as well as shave attempt number 2.

I had to get out of the shower when I started getting dizzy from the heat. And so here I am, writing this review, still covered in wax, still unsure of how I am going to ever get unsticky or how I am going to get the wax off of my floor.

So DO:

–       Use it if you’ve waxed that area by yourself before.

–       Heat it up an extra 5 seconds, I suggest.

–       Read ALL the instructions before using it.

DON’T

–       Drink wine before using it

–       Spill wax on the floor or your legs, or really any body part.

–       Try to shower to fix things.

–       Use it. Splurge and have someone do it for you.

Honestly, given the one successful strip, I am sure the wax itself works. But it’s just one of those things that will always have a place in my budget. The luxury of not having to do it myself, and it taking fifteen minutes during my lunch break is priceless.

Need recommendations of where to do it in DC? Email Stacie Smack at stacie.smack.sr[at]gmail[dot]com