One time I asked my friends to do an art piece for me. I wanted to to say (or be inspired by) the idea that Living Well is the Best Revenge. This was following a pretty brutal breakup and the light at the end of the tunnel for me was being better in every way I could. They wouldn’t do it using the connotation of ‘revenge’. It’s too negative, he said. Why not just Live Well?
Shit I’m over:
How much Paris rules. If I have to look at one more dreamy photograph of windowsills in the Marais or hipstamatic views of the Eiffel Tower, I might quit the internet.
Sleeping in. At one time, I couldn’t help but sleep in. My body naturally stayed in REM until noon-ish. Now, as an old lady, nothing bothers me more than sleeping late. Seriously, the other day I bounced out of bed at 6am and had a workout, cleaned my bathroom and made a killer lunch before arriving to work on time. I felt super human.
Hangovers. So so so over it. Unless it’s raining and someone brings me McDonald’s and I don’t have to work the next day and there’s nothing going on that night – then hangovers are pretty OK. (see also: people who talk about their hangovers)
Walking to get places. Having a bike makes you loathe walking. It takes forever and it’s boring. Note: I don’t mean strolling. That’s entirely different. Or meandering. I mean, actually having to get somewhere and being forced to go on foot.
Brunch. What’s wrong with eating lunch? Eggs are for all times of the day, why do we have to give eating them after 11am a special name? There’s usually a lineup or your order comes out all wrong and you always look half-shitty since you were out the night before (which is why this is your first meal of the day so you can’t call it ‘lunch’).
Professional Haters. I spend a lot of my time being cyber-angry at people on Twitter for hating on PR #Fails. (note: I am in PR). I want to @ to them that the people sending ridiculous pitches are probably interns/entry-level and are just following direction to “Email everyone on this list.”. I have been there and it happens so often in agency, you wouldn’t believe. But I can’t say anything because I’m in PR and we need journalists to like us. #sucks
Shit I’m into:
I saw Super 8. Great beginning, shit middle and end. Seriously. People were killing themselves laughing in places they weren’t meant to laugh. Anyway, enough about the movie, I want to talk about the movie’s star: Elle Fanning.
How pretty is this girl? I’d make her a girl crush but it just seems wrong since girl’s only 13. THIRTEEN! Imagine being in junior high school with Elle Fanning. I know, right? Nightmare.
I couldn’t help but compare these two side by side. The Vancouver situation is so mortifying. Like, your team lost – why take it out on your city? It makes none of the sense. I’m on the verge of a personal hockey boycott. Especially after this happened in game three:
It’s sickening and the punishments aren’t nearly close to how severe they should be. Attention all psychopaths – learn to play hockey real well so you can get away with attempted murder whenever you want!
Sorry but it’s how I feel.
All I really care about is how did that boy and girl wind up making out in the middle of the street, surrounded by police. I hope it was movie-script romantic.
I’ve been waiting a month to get my name off the lease for the house I was meant to move into this Wednesday and today it was finalized. It took long enough. I guess the landlord was hoping something would change. In a strange/selfish way, he was the only one rooting for us.
I thought I’d feel happy and relieved but it just makes me sad. I daydream-decorated that place from top to bottom – a style that would be perfectly ‘ours’. I pictured backyard bbq’s and walks through my new neighborhood. I imagined my life finally starting at this house and I’m not there. I’m here. The same place I’ve been for what feels like forever. So nothing has changed and everything has changed.
But I’m not trying to make you feel sorry for me. I know how good I have it. It’s just a weedy lake swim kind of day: you’re happy to be in the water but there are long, swaying slimy things tangling around your feet.
I know, I know. Kick harder, right?
I can’t get hard for blogging. Spring ahead/work exhaustion are the scapegoats for this one. Also, my nails are long and I hate typing with long nails.clickityclickclackclack I have never been able to manage long nails. Ever since I put Revlon press-on’s on in eighth grade and couldn’t get the front door of my house open (true story). Plus I have piano hands (read: long fingers) which just aren’t suited to fancy nails.
See! You didn’t miss this blather c’mon.
In other news I self healed my cat’s eye yesterday. She has been squinting like crazy with some tearing up at times and I was getting worried but after already shelling out $200 for a vet to tell me she was fine I googled that shit and picked up some plain old Life Brand Tears solution and flushed her eye myself. How did I exist before Google? Broke and clueless.
What do you think of my necklace hanger? The button on top says ‘Imagine Peace’ and it was given to me by people who got them straight from Yoko Ono. Like, they are close, personal friends of hers. Ritchie and Minnie.
Yes. That is him and John Lennon. Ritchie was responsible for John and Trudeau getting together and toured for the War Is Over peace campaign. I know. What have you done lately? Me either. (More photos and stuff about Ritchie here)
Oh and it’s not spring PS. Just because it’s sunny and one degree above zero I think you should put your pants back on (directed at the three girls I saw today that were bare legged).
And on that snarky note – nite!
I am obsessed with this picture of Lara Stone on the cover of French Vogue:
It’s so beyond hot it give me shivers. The cover is in honour of French Vogue’s 90th birthday and I don’t think they could have picked a better image. Lara Stone is sex. Like. Right?
I found some more (super hot and kinda not safe for work) shots that she’s done from ID, Industrie and other Vogue shoots that are also incredible. She used to be (is?) considered ‘plus size-ish’ hahaha but I will concede that she is more feminine than most models (boobs!). More like her please.
When I went home I did a little photo scanning of some family shots.
This is my Mom, me and my baby sister Stephanie. I love my Mom’s hair in this photo – she had the best white girl afro
I’m brand new and my Mom is 26 here, posing in front of her wedding photo. Look at Gweg’s bowtie!
All three of us girls are sleeping on my Mom. It’s possible she is feeling my forehead here or maybe she just wound up sticking her arm out. Kills me it’s so cute. Another angle:
Like I am literally on her head. All our little faces makes me feel like…I don’t know, exploding love. That’s the best I can describe it.
This family photo kills.me.dead. Look at my sister’s crooked face! baaahahaha. And my Mom’s neck scarf – so chic.
This is caplin fishing in Newfoundland. Basically, millions of the little fish wash up onto the beach you used to be able to just scoop them into your bucket. I don’t think they come in like that anymore. Anyway, it was a yearly tradition and her sweet happy face makes this photo a favourite. I can’t believe she will be married this time next year! My baby sis!
Remember the Muppets movie when Big Bird turned blue? I (far right) thought we should build a nest in case he came down the road that night and needed somewhere to sleep. I was sooo upset in the morning when there was no Big Bird in the driveway. Look at my concentration! (ps this is a little Newfoundland town where my Grandparents keep an old family home. More recent pics here)
Finally
Possibly my favouite picture of all time-ever. I feel like my Mom was always showing me really interesting and beautiful things when I was little. And look how cute she dressed me. I mean, who else can pull off a brown snowsuit? And those boots?! Will you be mad if I say I can’t wait for it to snow? Too late, I said it!
There’s my little family album. Hoped the novelty of the 80s helped it from being too boring. Maybe I’m nostalgic because my bday is so soon (one month from today!). Bah.
Heave away! I’m off to the Rock for five days. Going to see my beautiful cousin get hitched and celebrate my Dad’s 60th birthday. Five days isn’t a lot but count on me to make each one count as three. I’ll still be blogging now and then so check back – maybe drunk blogging even (god willing).
Have an awesome weekend. I’ll cheers to you in my whiskey haze. xo Stokes
YUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
All photos by Kristen
One time I said I didn’t have a ‘type’ when it came to how guys looked. Thinking back on all the dudes I loved before I can safely say that none of them had a defining ‘look’ that grouped them together.
I think that’s changing because lately I’ve become fixated on the following:
(From top incase you didn’t know: James Franco, Warren Beatty and James Dean)
See the pattern? Messy dark hair, a strong stare and a five o’clock shadow = swoon. Am I right? For good measure I want to post a couple more images of James Franco because he’s my latest boy crush and major obsession after reading this article on him in New York Magazine. Amazing profile. You should read it.
