A plug for veganism

Best vegan brownies I have ever had, anywhere. True, they are $3, but they are worth every SINGLE bite.











Think Coffee
Mercer Street between 3rd and 4th Streets
Manhattan

Picture source: NY Daily News

I want a man hat

I just bought man shoes. They are a reddish-brown with laces, a pointed toe and no heel. I bought them for $5 at Savers---and, yes, I always wear socks with them.

Now, I want a man hat to go with them! (And to also go with my favorite Gap Men's sweater vest from this past summer collection. And all other manly things that I own and wear.)

Mind you, I don't want a dinky, girly fedora that would simply perch atop my head and blow away at the first breeze. I want a MAN HAT. A man hat that will cover my hair when it is up.

Frank Sinatra knows what it's all about. Tall hat, wide brim = yes. A thousand times yes! My man hat, where are you?



Frank source: Timeless Stracks

No Air, No Air

I am nothing short of completely digging this new song, "No Air," a duet between American Idol winner Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown. The video is what sold the song to me. To me, the video is emotional and powerful in a perfect, only semi-cheesy way. I dig the confrontation between the two at the end, as well as their imaginary selves begging each other for "air" in the windy, stone-wall sequences.

One qualm: maybe it's just me, but don't the shots of their different locations kind of seem like the same New York City area to you? Come on, kids, just take the subway.

Check out the HQ video here on YouTube. I really recommend it. Great vocals, great concept...great makeup. And great body, Chris Brown! Kudos.

Tiny picture credit: MTV

Trendy for a reason

I'm not even a quarter of the way done, but I'm loving Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love, despite the fact that whenever I read it in public I feel like EVERY, WOMAN, EVERYWHERE. She's funny, honest, and optimistic even in the roughest of times, and I respect her greatly for seizing complete control of her life at the exact moment she let everything and everyone go. Her story and her comeback are so inspiring that I feel almost compelled to take notes of her wise words on Post-Its to scatter around my room. And she is a real woman. This is all real.

Favorite quote so far: "I couldn't stop thinking about what my sister had said to me once, as she was breast-feeding her firstborn: 'Having a baby is like getting a tattoo on your face. You really need to be certain it's what you want before you commit.' "

Picture credit: NPR

Free advertising

Something I wrote for my Creative Writing class's Blackboard this week. I liked how it turned out by the end.

Coupa Café on Ramona Street in downtown Palo Alto only has one wall of electrical outlets.

It also has 3 trillion customers per day.

The countless coffee-sippers and cookie-nibblers who find themselves banished to the tables in the center of the cafe sadly open their laptops, glance at the clock, and start counting down the minutes until their dear computer has trickled down to the final seconds of battery life.

The kings sitting at the tables against the Wall of Electricity sit comfortably, ordering latte after coffee, vegan brownie after oatmeal cookie. To snag a table against the Wall of Life is to remain there in luxury for hours, if not days.

The banished eye the kings with wistfulness, each of the forsaken pleading desperately with the fortunate in silence.

And when one of the lucky sitting alongside the Wall decides that he must return to his car, his children, his family, his job or his television, he slowly reaches for his computer cord, yanks it from the wall, and looks up to see five of the forsaken already at his side, their laptops clutched against their chests, their eyes wide with anticipation at his leaving.

He pushes past them to exit the cafe, and the four or five fight to the death for control of the Wall.

I sit with my book far from the battle. How silly of them, I think. They should do what I do when I want to work here with my laptop: arrive at Coupa Café 2 hours before opening, huddle in the chill and dream ahead of a day of free electrical usage, bathing in the glares of the forsaken who have arrived after me.

Picture credit: Palo Alto Online

Amélie, all the time

I absolutely cannot get enough of the Amélie soundtrack. I saw the film for the first time (yes, the first time) this past weekend and immediately checked the library for the soundtrack, composed by Yann Tiersen. (Library = free, legal music downloading. Fantastic.)

Thankfully, my library had it. If not, I would have flipped...the soundtrack is strangely not on iTunes.

Anyway, if you haven't seen the film, oh God, do it now...if you don't have the soundtrack...do the same.


The music is whimsical and melancholy, and somehow it makes me yearn for my mother, a husband and a bubble bath all at the same time.

Lovin' it.

Picture sources: Fake Jazz, Guardian.co.uk

My top 10 songs played on iTunes

Just thought I would share them with you.

1. "Mama Who Bore Me (Reprise)" from Spring Awakening: 92 plays
2. "LoveStoned/I Think She Knows" by Justin Timberlake: 87
3. "What Goes Around.../...Comes Around" by Justin Timberlake: 76
4. "Way I Are (Feat. Keri Hilson & D.O.E.)" by Timbaland: 74
5. "Piece of Me" by Britney Spears: 67
6. "Miscommunication (Feat. Keri Hilson & Sebastian)" by Timbaland: 66
7. "My Love" by Justin Timberlake: 65
8. "Boardmeeting (Feat. Magoo)" by Timbaland: 62
9. "Chop Me Up" by Justin Timberlake: 58
10. "Secret Heart" by Feist: 57

Wow. All I have to say is: wow. I would never have guessed that there would be so much JT and Timbaland up there! Although it's true...they rule my life.

I am in love with Lee Pace

Oh, you thought there was more to this blog post?

There isn't.

See Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day just for that one shot of Lee walking down the dressing room in his tuxedo, finishing a cigarette. It's worth the $11. Trust me. (I've seen it twice already.)

Spring Break = books, not bikinis

It's Spring Break, and being back home alone has its benefits: I get a ton of reading done.

No spoilers. Don't worry!

I started Melissa Bank's The Wonder Spot the night before I left. I loved her previous (and only other novel), The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing, which, since its 1999 publishing date, has been made into a horrifying-looking chick flick with a different title starring Sarah Michelle Gellar. (The bright blue cover and its straight-to-DVD status doesn't make it look very promising, which is tragic.) This read was equally as melancholy yet fulfilling: Bank is stupendous at creating characters that are loveable, funny, desperate, and lost. This character, a self-deprecating, bored, rebellious, family-devoted girl named Sophie, grows before our eyes, searching for her true love and her true career. She's hilarious, and one excerpt from the book that will always stick with me is one that describes one of her flames, Bobby, and his ability to make children laugh: "He even had power over three-year-old women." Throughout the book I found myself laughing, gasping, and sighing aloud, and I even sent a text message to three of my girlfriends, telling them that I was reading a book that made me want a guy to cuddle and laugh with. Sigh (aloud). Anyway. The Wonder Spot, just like The Girl's Guide, left me hopeful, yet sad, for this wonderfully funny, delightfully awkward character.

I also read Night by Elie Wiesel last night. It was short but INTENSE. I loved it, which is hard to say because it was tragic and thus difficult to get through, but the man is a gifted writer and I couldn't help but mark the whole thing up with underlines and Post-Its and my own thoughts in the margins. (Also, it's hard to admit that I loved it because I don't even know how to pronounce his name.) Accounts like this really do make you wonder: how could people this cruel have existed only 70 years ago, in the twentieth century? How was this going on under the noses of everyone? How could people have been tortured this way? Only 70 years ago? "This isn't the Middle Ages," Wiesel said to his father. And I could not help but be as mystified as he was. And though the entire Auschwitz experience is devastating, I must admit to myself that the terrible men who killed and delighted in death are forever interesting to me. I just saw The Counterfeiters, which affected me in the same regard. How can any man delight in the torture of other men? Women? Children and infants? How did these men grow up to hate---or rather, not hate, but feel INDIFFERENT toward---the violently victimized men and women of this era? How did that happen?

Anyway. On a COMPLETE 180 note, I am now reading French Women Don't Get Fat.

PS: It's been forever since I have blogged. Eeeeeeshes.

Love this picture

Whaddya got, March 4??

Go Hillary!

Picture source: MSNBC Media