homeless people have rights too.
Recently, I was registering to vote with my new NYC address and as I looked down at the application, I noticed something interesting.
A section of the application reads, "If you live in a rural area but do not have a street number, or if you have no address, please show on the map where you live." This statement was followed by a little empty map diagram where you can fill in street names and put an "X" near your approximate location.
I thought this was great. Now, the homeless man sprawled out in K-Town can vote too! He'll just have to fill in "32nd Street and 5th Avenue" and put an "X" by the little corner he occupies next to CVS. I didn't really understand the purpose of this portion of the application, so I figured the government just wanted to let all the homeless women and men know that just because they haven't been provided with food or shelter, does not mean that they have been deprived of their right to vote too. How thoughtful!
Many thanks on behalf of all my homeless friends.
Cheers,
Cheryl
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
quick thought #20.
Has it ever occured to you that we really aren't living, but in actuality, are dying every day?
(Sorry- it's a morbid and somewhat obvious thought, I know, but I think this all the time...)
(Sorry- it's a morbid and somewhat obvious thought, I know, but I think this all the time...)
Friday, September 24, 2010
sorry, boys.
"I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they're not much to look at, or even if they're sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can."
-Holden Caulfield in Catcher in the Rye
Thursday, September 23, 2010
only 2.
wise words from
the best co-worker to ever walk the earth.
After ranting to my co-worker about the signifant other, she told me something that made complete sense and was completely true.
"There are only women and children in this world. No men. You're either a woman, or a child."
HAHAHA! So true. This is why I love Kosovare Demhasaj with all my heart.
Thank God for amazing co-workers.
Cheers,
Cheryl
the best co-worker to ever walk the earth.
After ranting to my co-worker about the signifant other, she told me something that made complete sense and was completely true.
"There are only women and children in this world. No men. You're either a woman, or a child."
HAHAHA! So true. This is why I love Kosovare Demhasaj with all my heart.
Thank God for amazing co-workers.
Cheers,
Cheryl
Thursday, September 16, 2010
paolo saracco
Paolo Saracco Moscati D'AstiThe boyfriend, knowing my affinity for dessert wines, ordered a bottle of this delectably sweet, sparkling white wine at dinner one fine evening. My lips haven't had a chance to touch this delightful liquid since, and I've been craving it everso badly.
Must get my hands on a bottle stat.
funny kid.
kids really do say and do
the darndest things.
On my subway ride home from work yesterday, there were three people sitting on one side of the subway seat. For my fellow Manhattanites who know, subway seats are divided by a metal rod so that four people can sit on one side of the rod and three more people can sit on the other side of the rod. Well, on the 3-people side of the rod, a woman, a little Indian boy, and another woman were sitting in that order. Now, this kid was so little that there was some space between him and the woman to the right of him. Not realizing that this was the 3-person side of the subway seat, I shoved my ass in the small space between him and the other woman. She didn't seem too happy about this but whatever, I was dead tired.
Anyway, I was in such close proximity to this kid and his nanny (I'm assuming it was his nanny because of their conversation and besides, the woman wasn't Indian), that I was able to hear their entire conversation clearly. It went something like this:
Nanny: "_____ stop touching your face, you're gonna get pimples."
Indian Boy: "I'm only 5, I won't get pimples."
Nanny: "Yea well when you're a teenager you're going to get them so stop picking at your face."
Indian Boy: "What else gives me pimples?"
Nanny: "Eating spicy foods can give you pimples, you're Indian so you eat a lot of spicy foods."
Indian Boy: "Nope, I don't eat spicy foods. What's spicy?"
Nanny: "Things like peppers, and buffalo wings, and the curry your mom makes, and chili, and... (starts rambling about spicy foods)..."
Indian Boy: (starts looking bored,,,)
Nanny: "...what else...and also things like mustard and hot sauce..."
Indian Boy (interrupts her): "Yea? Yea? What about foods like this? *pretends to fall asleep and snore*"
Nanny: "That's not funny, *insert-indian-boy-name-here,* if someone is talking, you have to listen to them."
Indian Boy: (continues to pretend to sleep).
HAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!! I realize it's not as funny when written out like this, but believe me it was hilarious. This poor nanny was going on and on about different spicy foods and the kid totally PWNS her. Omg it was so hard not to crack up. It was even funnier because he was this supercute skinny little kid with glasses and this squeaky high-pitched voice. He needs to be on one of those Jimmy Kimmel experients they play in yellowcabs. The entire exchange between the two was pure comedy.
He's going to grow up to be the next Russell Peters or Aziz Ansari.
Cheers,
Cheryl
the darndest things.
On my subway ride home from work yesterday, there were three people sitting on one side of the subway seat. For my fellow Manhattanites who know, subway seats are divided by a metal rod so that four people can sit on one side of the rod and three more people can sit on the other side of the rod. Well, on the 3-people side of the rod, a woman, a little Indian boy, and another woman were sitting in that order. Now, this kid was so little that there was some space between him and the woman to the right of him. Not realizing that this was the 3-person side of the subway seat, I shoved my ass in the small space between him and the other woman. She didn't seem too happy about this but whatever, I was dead tired.
Anyway, I was in such close proximity to this kid and his nanny (I'm assuming it was his nanny because of their conversation and besides, the woman wasn't Indian), that I was able to hear their entire conversation clearly. It went something like this:
Nanny: "_____ stop touching your face, you're gonna get pimples."
Indian Boy: "I'm only 5, I won't get pimples."
Nanny: "Yea well when you're a teenager you're going to get them so stop picking at your face."
Indian Boy: "What else gives me pimples?"
Nanny: "Eating spicy foods can give you pimples, you're Indian so you eat a lot of spicy foods."
Indian Boy: "Nope, I don't eat spicy foods. What's spicy?"
Nanny: "Things like peppers, and buffalo wings, and the curry your mom makes, and chili, and... (starts rambling about spicy foods)..."
Indian Boy: (starts looking bored,,,)
Nanny: "...what else...and also things like mustard and hot sauce..."
Indian Boy (interrupts her): "Yea? Yea? What about foods like this? *pretends to fall asleep and snore*"
Nanny: "That's not funny, *insert-indian-boy-name-here,* if someone is talking, you have to listen to them."
Indian Boy: (continues to pretend to sleep).
HAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!! I realize it's not as funny when written out like this, but believe me it was hilarious. This poor nanny was going on and on about different spicy foods and the kid totally PWNS her. Omg it was so hard not to crack up. It was even funnier because he was this supercute skinny little kid with glasses and this squeaky high-pitched voice. He needs to be on one of those Jimmy Kimmel experients they play in yellowcabs. The entire exchange between the two was pure comedy.
He's going to grow up to be the next Russell Peters or Aziz Ansari.
Cheers,
Cheryl
Monday, September 13, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
all gone.
i'm balding.
'Tis true. I am slowly but surely balding. Not from my head, but from my eyelids. Let me explain.
I have this eyelash curler that is just the supreme bomb-diggity. It was 99cents from this little shop in K-Street and I bought it a few years ago. For those ladies (and lads who are into this sort of thing, I guess) who are thinking "wtf get a new one," I am very sad to say that the shop is now closed and in its place, is a brand-spanking new Paris Baguette (yes, I know we are excited for this popular bakery to open its doors but I'd like my eyelash-curler shop back, thanks). I've tried several different eyelash curlers in search of one that is as wondrous, but have failed to find one that is just so. Thusly, I have been utilizing this worn curler for several years. This is a cardinal sin in the world of make-up, I know, but I cannot bring myself to buy a new one or replace the rubber bit inside.
Speaking of the rubber bit, it is now splitting in half down the center because of the pressure the top metal part applies when I squeeze the curler (this image is probably difficult to visualize but I have faith that my fellow eyelash-curling friends will understand). Every time I curl my eyelashes, one or two eyelashes would fall out but I never thought much of it. Eyelashes grow back too, right? Alas, today, I looked inside the splitting rubber bit to find this:
'Tis true. I am slowly but surely balding. Not from my head, but from my eyelids. Let me explain.
I have this eyelash curler that is just the supreme bomb-diggity. It was 99cents from this little shop in K-Street and I bought it a few years ago. For those ladies (and lads who are into this sort of thing, I guess) who are thinking "wtf get a new one," I am very sad to say that the shop is now closed and in its place, is a brand-spanking new Paris Baguette (yes, I know we are excited for this popular bakery to open its doors but I'd like my eyelash-curler shop back, thanks). I've tried several different eyelash curlers in search of one that is as wondrous, but have failed to find one that is just so. Thusly, I have been utilizing this worn curler for several years. This is a cardinal sin in the world of make-up, I know, but I cannot bring myself to buy a new one or replace the rubber bit inside.
Speaking of the rubber bit, it is now splitting in half down the center because of the pressure the top metal part applies when I squeeze the curler (this image is probably difficult to visualize but I have faith that my fellow eyelash-curling friends will understand). Every time I curl my eyelashes, one or two eyelashes would fall out but I never thought much of it. Eyelashes grow back too, right? Alas, today, I looked inside the splitting rubber bit to find this:
Several years' worth of "one or two eyelashes" falling out and getting stuck in the little rubber bit (I have no idea what 'the rubber bit' is actually called or if it even has a technical term so for my purposes, 'the rubber bit' will have to do)!!! OMFG that's like, all the hair on Donald Trump's head. Damn. No wonder my eyelids have been feeling a bit lighter lately...
Anyway, so yes, I am balding. At this rate, I won't even need an eyelash curler. I actually have a great load of eyelashes which is why I didn't mind a few falling out from time to time, but this picture puts things in perspective. I've given up on eye make-up because I suck at applying it, so I don't wear any eyeliner or eyeshadow or what-have-you anymore, just some good ole mascara, so the realization that I may not even be able to wear any mascara anymore is deeply disturbing. My eyelashes are my saving grace!
I must get a new eyelash curler.
Cheers,
Cheryl
PS: Those aren't pubes, pervs.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
snickers?
hungry? grab a snickers!
My co-workers and I are constantly chatting about how we need to lose weight, eat healthy, and exercise. We've attempted the Master Cleanse together and failed at it together. Now, we are trying to eat healthy small-portioned lunches except on Thursdays because everyone needs a cheat-day. Today is Tuesday and all I had for lunch were a couple of mini-ravioli (is the singular form of "ravioli" pronounced "ra-vee-oh-lie"?) from those containers sold at Duane Reade. Just as my stomach was sending signals to my brain which in turn sent signals to my hand which in turn reached for my wallet to make a trip back to Duane Reade to get something more satiating, a co-worker passes by and all she says as she walks past my cubicle is, "Snickers?"
And to that, I respond with, "yes."
And just like that, BAM, I am on the Snickers train and instantly she comes back with a king-size Snickers bar for me.
Cheers,
My co-workers and I are constantly chatting about how we need to lose weight, eat healthy, and exercise. We've attempted the Master Cleanse together and failed at it together. Now, we are trying to eat healthy small-portioned lunches except on Thursdays because everyone needs a cheat-day. Today is Tuesday and all I had for lunch were a couple of mini-ravioli (is the singular form of "ravioli" pronounced "ra-vee-oh-lie"?) from those containers sold at Duane Reade. Just as my stomach was sending signals to my brain which in turn sent signals to my hand which in turn reached for my wallet to make a trip back to Duane Reade to get something more satiating, a co-worker passes by and all she says as she walks past my cubicle is, "Snickers?"
And to that, I respond with, "yes."
And just like that, BAM, I am on the Snickers train and instantly she comes back with a king-size Snickers bar for me.
I will only eat half.
Cheers, Cheryl
Friday, September 3, 2010
i'm in miami b-!
maybe I'll see a Jersey Shore cast member?!
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I am off to Miami tomorrow morning.
The boyfriend's wonderful company will graciously pay for hotel+car. I guess that makes the boyfriend wonderful too. Teehee.
Don't miss me too much; I'll be back with photos and stories soon.
Hugs & Kisses,
Cheryl
break the rules.
a match thought to be forbidden,
but made possible by the italians.
I love leopard print. I love polka dots (but ONLY b&w polka dots- all other color combination polka dots give me a headache). Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the two could ever go together, but OMFG the masters themselves, Dolce & Gabbana, have shown us that the two prints look absolutely delectable together. Feast your eyes on this:
BAM! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT?!
I realize not all (or even many) people will appreciate this nearly as much as I do, but the juxtaposition of the polka-dots with the leopard print... amazing!
I'm glad I am still able to find joy and excitement over the little things. My bikini top is black and white polka-dot print so maybe it's time I find a leopard print bottom to go with it.
Hotness.
Cheers,
Cheryl
PS: Welcome, September. You're actually not all that welcome but you've come (much too earlier, might I add), so I guess we might as well embrace you in all your glo..ry...? Sigh.
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