just the two of us

Mariposas! I just found out about this Etsy store via The Hairpin.

I think these prints would make great birthday, bridal shower, or thanks for holding my head while I was puking gifts.

my friend Erica would LOVE these

i'd give this to boo cus he's into ornithology

And of course...

i'd give this to my special mariposas

the suavecito man

I've been obsessed with Polyvore lately. It's basically like a paper dolls site for grown ups. Except I'm pretty sure the median age of users is 16.

I put together this outfit for guys even though men's clothing is about as exciting to me as hearing about what you dreamt about last night. But now that I have a boo I gotta start thinking about what looks good on guys. Although he can't look too good because as Cher says, "What would I contribute to the relationship?"

I think this would be the perfect outfit for afterwork margaritas. You've got your suavecito pomade (smells so good) and guayabera. All dudes should rock the guayabera this summer. It's not just for 60 year old Cuban men ya hear?

Oye, click on the image to find out where to get the items xoxo

happy memorial day weekend!

This weekend I'm gonna try not to stress out about finances and just have fun. I plan on going to a picnic in Prospect Park, watching Kungfu Panda 2, eating burgers (yes, plural) and drinking lots of cava and rosaaaaay.

Oh, wait, I guess all those activities require chedda.

Throw me a bone, Universe! Preferably a bone made out of a black American Express card.

Have a great weekend, Mariposas!

*Photo above was taken in Mexico and that's my beautiful friend Victoria.

mixed prints

via

I haven't bought any new clothes since November. This is the LONGEST I've gone without shopping and I'm DYING. But I think the test of true style is seeing how many outfits you can come up with on a limited wardrobe. Look at the French, they look so chic and they own like four things.  So I plan on maximizing my wardrobe by mixing prints and patterns. Watch out, people with money!

bracelets gone wild

I love my animal print slap bracelet. Thanks Meredith!

dear loud man at the bar last night:

HI.

SORRY I'M SPEAKING SO LOUDLY. MY EAR DRUMS GOT BUSTED AFTER SITTING BEHIND YOU FOR TWO HOURS.

Oh, wait.

Think I got my hearing back.

Whew.

You may not remember me. You were too busy TALKING FROM YOUR DIAPHRAGM all night. But I'd just like to say that you were very loud. My friends and I were having a very important conversation about the state of Paul Reiser's career but we couldn't hear each other because your voice reverberated through our bodies and stabbed our ear drums.

At one point, we contemplated shoving peanut butter into your mouth. I thought we should've taken it further and spiked your drink with roofies and then hacked your vocal chords with a machete. But I didn't have any roofies.

I get it. Bars are loud and you need to shout to be heard. But not when you're the only person talking! Did you not notice that we all covered our ears? Or that car windows were shattering? I'm pretty sure your voice reactivated a fault line. 

So the next time you're at a bar, please think of the other patrons you are disturbing. Some of us just want to enjoy a refreshing beer and talk about our favorite Mad About You episode in peace. 

PS My favorite Mad About You character is Ira.

i don't believe in a lot of things, but i believe in susan miller

via 

I've been fervently reading Susan Miller's Astrologyzone for the past few years. Her writing is so encouraging and warm, addressing her readers as "my little scorpios or my little pisces". She's like the earth mother watching out for you and holding your hand.  I think the forecast that really had me hooked was May 2010. I felt like she was talking directly to me. She said she knew how bad Scorpios must've been feeling about their love life and to have faith because love was coming. 

And lo and behold it did.*

I'm hoping that she'll be right about my career as she was with my relationship.

So gurrrrl please don't let me down now!

I'd love to know if anyone else had had eerily accurate predictions and if you're excited/anxious about the solar eclipses as I am! 

PS Susan, if you're reading this, I'm a Scorpio with Virgo rising. Yup, that means I'm a workaholic with a self critical side. Great combo.

*Bet she couldn't predict that I'd start saying lo and behold.

the great leap forward

I've been having a lot of anxiety lately. Just fretting about when and if things will work out.

I know I have so much to be grateful for.  I really really do. And I'm in such a better place in my life now than I was last year. But sometimes gratitude lists just can't get you out of an anxiety hole.  Gratitude lists can't pay your rent for the year. Or can they? Tell me Oprah!

I don't know. I guess all I can do is try.  Take risks. And maybe I'll land like Mr. Fox over here. Or maybe I'll fall, which, if that's the case expect lots of whiny posts from yours truly!

Sorry for the blah post today. I think I'm just upset because I spent 3 bucks on a pretzel and it wasn't even that good.

Photos via

vacation romances are overrated

Omigosh it's almost June. Which means some of you mariposas will be going off on summer vacays. Maybe to Europe. Maybe to Barcelona where you'll meet some Javier Bardem look alike. You'll walk along the Ramblas, communicate in broken English, and fall madly in love...

Let me break it down for you.

I went to Barcelona a few years ago. It was my first trip alone. And I wanted to experience a European fling with some Javier Bardem look alike --or at the very least, a poor man's version of him--and walk around the streets holding slices of jamon and churros (hey this is my fantasy).

Little did I know that the old adage "be careful what you wish for" would come true. 

When I first arrived in BCN, it was great. I explored the boquerias, went to the beach, met up with friends who lived there. Then one night, I was on my own and decided to check out this nice tapas bar. I immediately stood out because I was like the only non Spaniard there and also, who the hell goes to tapas bars ALONE?

That's when one of the waiters started talking to me. I guess my intermediate level Spanish was fine because he gave me his number at the end of the night. I'm an international playa. Hollerz!

I called him the next day but he didn't pick and I didn't leave a message. A few hours later, he shows up AT MY HOTEL.

He saw the missed call and tracked my hotel. At the time, I thought it was so romantic and such a relief to find an assertive European guy. Not like those ambiguous American guys who play games. Well, sometimes a guy with a big jamon is not always a good thing. Unless, it's an actual jamon.

So he showed me around BCN but we only walked around the touristy parts. It was fun but part of me wanted to ditch him so I could explore on my own. I wanted to go to the Gothic Quarter or eat at Quimet Y Quimet cus that's where Anthony Bourdain ate. 

Instead, this guy took me out for Doner Kebab. 

He said that when you work at a Spanish restaurant, you get tired of eating Spanish food all time. Oh, that's great, since this is my first time in Barcelona and I probably won't be back for a few years.

We hung out the next day again but instead of being romantic and adventurous, it was tedious. I was exhausted of speaking Spanish all the time.  The movies make it look so fun and cute, with the couple giggling and holding vocabulary books, but in reality, speaking another language is exhausting. At one point I just wanted to scream: Speak English for the love of God! I don't care if I'm in another country! 

Then he told me he was falling in love with me. What? I just wanted a fun fling. Isn't that what happens in Eat Pray Love? Oh, wait, Elizabeth Gilbert marries the dude in the end. I guess that's where the love part comes in. Isn't there another travel romance book we can all reference?

Luckily, the best part of having a vacation romance is a return ticket for one.

So I returned to NYC.

But I made the mistake of accepting his facebook friend request. 

He sent me messages about how he was in love with me. He couldn't stop thinking of me. I wanted to be like, dude, we knew each other for three days! How could you possibly like me? We don't even speak the same language!

But what bothered me the most were the typos. He wrote the emails in Spanish and there were spelling and grammar mistakes everywhere. You know it's egregious when I, a non Spanish speaker, is editing the email of a native Spanish speaker.  And one time, he wrote his message in the subject line of the email.  The subject line. My mom doesn't own a computer but even she knows that messages go in the message part!

I ignored him.  But then he'd send messages asking why I hadn't written. Asking if I was mad at him. Geez louisa, I'm starting to miss American guys and the way they play games.

It was too much. I kinda hoped a big jamon would fall and crush his fingers, impeding him from writing anymore. 

So I had to do the next best thing. I defriended him on Facebook.

I guess that was mean. He was just an overly sensitive Spanish guy with horrible typing skills. But I learned an important lesson: Don't have vacation romances. Also, never give a guy your Facebook info.

Salud!

nabokov's butterfly illustrations

As you guys may know, I have a thing for mariposas.

So I was delighted to see Nabokov's butterfly illustrations that were dedicated to his wife Vera.

A few of my favorites.

via

the weekend in bites and pieces

(that's me with a roast chicken and a glass of wine obviously)

On Friday, I made my first roast chicken and didn't give anyone salmonella poisoning. I am a domestic goddess!

I used Barefoot Contessa's roast chicken recipe. No, it wasn't the engagement chicken. Much to my boyfriend's relief.  It was super easy except the part where I stuck my hand inside a bloody cavity to get the giblets out and pieces of chicken splattered all over my leopard print dress. How come this never happens to Barefoot Contessa? We never see her hand inside a chicken, exclaiming, "Isn't this fabulous?" Because it is the opposite of fabulous. It is faux fabulous.

On Saturday, Boo came over and we played a game of Trivial Pursuit Pop Culture Edition for three and a half hours. Do you know what it's like to play Trivial Pursuit with your boyfriend that long? If you love him, then don't.

Afterwards we went to a party at his friend's place and I had to keep myself from starting sentences with "Do you the name of the pop singer..."

On Sunday we made apple walnut pancakes. Hummana Hummana.  Apparently those pancakes weren't enough so I made some chicken salad samiches using the leftover roast chicken. Hollerz!

Then Sunday night I watched a sketch show at the Upright Citizens Brigade, spent some time on the internet and watched this funny webseries, and made roasted potatoes with lemon using this recipe.

Ps: The potatoes were the bombass potatoes! I ate all of them.

Pps: I need to be wheeled to my room. 

livin la vida cava

Happy Friday Mariposas!

Since it's the weekend, I thought I'd talk about my number one love in the world...sparkling rosé! (sorry Boo.)

I like to use any occasion for sparkling wine. One time me and my friend Sarah finished writing a sketch show and celebrated with not one, but TWO bottles. Because big accomplishments should be celebrated with big hangovers.

This is me and Sarah with our respective bottles. Um, let's take a moment and look at how freaky my eye looks.

I know rosé gets a bad rap for not being a "serious" wine and sparkling rosé has an equal, if not worse, reputation for frivolity, but I effin' love sparkling rosé and am proud of it. How can you not like something that is bubbly and PINK? I'm sorry, but if we live in a world where people judge you because you like something pretty and pink then I don't want to live among these monsters.

So our sparkling rosé for the evening was a Cristalino Brut Cava. I like buying Cristalino because if you say it real slow, people will think you're drinking Cristal. "Oh, yes, I'm drinking this real expensive Cristaaaaaal...ino."

And Cava is a sparkling wine from Spain. Some people call it the Prosecco of Spain but I think that's unfair to Cavas. It's like when people call Koreans the Jews of the East.

One time my friends and I went to a house party hosted by two French men. I wanted to bring some Cava but I know how the French are so selective about their sparkling wine. Ugh, you French are so snobby about wine yet you listen to crap like Jordy*.

Luckily, I was with my Spanish friend Andreu and he helped me pick out a good Cava that could satisfy the discerning palate of the French. He chided me for going for the Cristalino (but it sounds like Cristal if you say it slow!) and directed me towards the Marques de Gelida Cava Brut. It is dry and redolent of apples. Yum! And it comes in a fun, yellow bottle. Upon seeing the bottle, my friend Suzette said, "Wow, that looks like a party."

Party in a bottle.

And you know it's a good Cava when it makes me lose my inhibitions and wrap my leg around a French man I had just met.

my victim

*Just kidding I effin love Jordy.

an easier way to remember the states

via

I'm from the state of Old Peeps. Or as my friend Ursy would say: Death's Waiting Room.

dunkin donuts: a moment in anger management

Every morning I go to Dunkin Donuts. And every morning they screw up my order.

I like a decaf medium coffee with a drop of cream. A drop! I like my coffee to be the color of sepia, Dunkin Donuts, not whiter than a spring break in Daytona Beach.

Then there's the bagels. I like my everything bagels toasted with veggie cream cheese. Instead I get a different bagel or creamcheese or--egads!--not toasted.

And finally, I hate having to repeat my order. I'd like a decaf, medium coffee, drop of cream. "Did you want milk and sugar?" No, just cream. "Large?" Medium. "Sorry, did you want sugar?"

ARRRRRRRRRGGGH.

I could chastise them about my orders but then I'd be the lunatic who yells at Dunkin Donuts employees. 

Instead, I'll just be the lunatic who blogs about them.

I feel bad for complaining cus I feel like I'm crapping on first generation immigrant employees and their struggle for upward mobility. I doubt they wake up at the ass crack of dawn and sing "Time to make the donuuuuts." They're just trying to make a living and give America the coffee that it runs on. 

But sometimes I just want to forego the compassion and just scream: Give me my coffee with a dollop of cream or I will BUST SOME SKULLS. 

Thank you please :)

brazil 2016

My friend sent me these photos of Brazil's plans for their Olympic's Welcome Sign. It's a Solar City Tower that will generate energy during the Olympics and turn into a waterfall. 

hope that plane doesn't crash into those people.

Sigh.

if immigrant parents were food critics

"This place is the best. They have calzones for $5. Don't remember much about decor but the calzones are $5!!!!"

"Babbo is okay but it's not as good as Olive Garden."

"My entree was $25 and it didn't even come with free sides. Boston Market gives you TWO free sides."

"The portions were too small. I didn't have enough leftovers to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner the next day."

"Service too slow. After I place order, I go to bathroom. I come back food still no there!"

"Not spicy enough. More spicy!"

"Too loud!"

(can you tell the last three were my parents?)

stylin & profilin: bridesmaids

I watched Bridesmaids last Friday and it was hi-larious. Seriously, mariposas, it is not some hackneyed chick flick that plays on the pathetic single girl tropes.  It's funny, sweet, and even heartwarming. And, hello, it has mad style too. If you have bridal showers this summer, take note: blazers, mini dresses, and heels will power you through them. 


Related post: How to give a wedding toast

my happy place: brazil

Maripositas!

It's supposed to rain all week in NYC.  On top of that, I have appointments with a lawyer, dentist, and doctor. The trifecta of scary people! So I'll be staying in my happy place: Salvador, Brazil.

When I think of Salvador, I think of New Years Eve and walking around the old Pelourinho district with my friend Vidya. We stumbled upon an alley and saw people drinking beers and hanging out. Kinda like a Brazilian tail gating party!

At first, they gave us funny looks. One guy approached me and bowed. Another said konichiwa. I was ready to write them off as Brazilian douches when they offered us beers. (alcohol diplomacy!) Using broken English and Portuguese, we learned that the guys were all musicians and dancers.  They even busted out their instruments and started an impromptu performance.

mini spectators

our new brazilian bff

We danced. Drank beers. It was the best time ever. And I'll be visiting it today IN MY MIND.

writer hands

My friend Sally says I have writer hands.

Do these look like the hands of a writer to you motha f@%#!

ps trap shooting is the scariest thing in the world. 

ode to richard ayoade

Thou beloved comedian of the IT Crowd

With stoic countenance that shows no guile

An asymmetrical crown festoons thy head 

Making it hard for us not to smile

Did a hungry bird take an avaricious bite?

Or Edward Scissorhands go reckless with his device?

Guess we'll never know

But we could care less

For Richard Ayoade's portrayal of Moss is the illin'est.

O, Moss, with thou backpacks and plaid sartorial splendor

As perennial as thou fear of youths, or

Disdain for concerts

With thou dungeons and dragons

And thou stint in prison

We've never gleaned such delight from a socially awkward person

So let us sing a mirthful song

One that goes out to our favorite Pac Man hair shaped homie

For making us laugh, 

Snort coffee from our nose

The gangsta

One and only

Richard Ayoade 

*No actual odes were harmed during this writing process.

how to give a wedding toast

the groom, me, the bride

Happy Monday Mariposas!


Over the weekend,  I saw Bridesmaids (hilarious btw). And now I have wedding toasts on the brain. As a speechwriter, I've written dozens of wedding toasts. And as a friend, I've given two and ghostwritten several.  Since it's wedding season, I thought I'd put together a little guide. So if you have to give a toast and hate public speaking--or worse, hate the people getting married--don't worry!

Here are a few tips so you can relax and enjoy the open bar. I mean, wedding.

detox

When people go on diets, they LOVE talking about it all the time to everyone. Because there's nothing more exciting for the rest of us than hearing how miserable you are. 

So boo and I started a detox. 

It's not so much a detox as it is about eating more sensibly. We're avoiding meat, dairy, wheat, and alcohol. Oh, god, how is that more sensible? I change my mind! I wanna die young! 

We tried to start it last week but we cheated. I folded first and had a beer with my friend Liz on Friday. I didn't tell him about it cus what's one little beer? Tee-hee.

Then he folded the next day. I came clean about breaking the cleanse and felt bad cus while I was having a beer he was drinking a virgin bloody mary. Love ya boo!

We started for real on Wednesday and so far so good. (Although I had to pull boo away when we walked by S'mac.) Meals consist of fish, rice, and veggies (remember those?) And you can find creative ways to stick to the parameters. Like, fish tacos sans cheese, sourcream, or happiness. I even found a vegan icecream place in the East Village called Spogo. It was seriously good! Or maybe I was just delirious from low blood sugar.

When you embark on a detox, you'll notice small changes:

But I know the sacrifices are worth it cus you'll lose so much weight  be healthy. 

Have you guys ever gone a detox? Can you recommend any meal ideas? Did you kill yourself?

sitcom style: diane from cheers

I've been watching a lot of Cheers. I forgot how funny and heartwarming that show was. And diane! She could rock a silk blouse and high waisted skirt while trading barbs with sam malone. she was such a mariposa! 

the creative habit

Mariposas!

Have you guys read The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp? It's a great book for writers, artists, or anyone with who've struggled with creative blocks.

After reading The Creative Habit, I learned that being creative isn't just about being inspired versus uninspired.  It's about discipline and forming the right habits.

So here are some suggestions for igniting the creative engine:

1. Look at your bank account balance. 
Nothing gets my creative juices flowing like witnessing the atrophy of my bank account balance. WHEN WILL I BE A BALLA?! 

2. Make your muse happy
We must appease the muses so they can bestow their gifts without rescinding our talents or job security. Muses are kinda like the mafia. 

To conjure the muse, it is very important to perform a daily ritual. For example, I like to set my alarm for 6 AM and then hit snooze multiple times.

3. Breakfast 

It's important to eat the same thing every morning because any variable may contribute to a writing disaster. The deli guy knows my order by now. When he sees me, he says, "Large coffee and cream donut, Miss?" Thanks, Jose, but today I'm keeping it healthy. Make it a small coffee.

Then I come home and attack the computer. It's like I am Legend but with words instead of zombies. I shall slaughter you with my metaphysical conceits!  (Ugh, gross, who writes this stuff?) (Oh, I do.)

4. Did I mention you need a muse? YOU NEED A MUSE! 
Writers like to picture a person behind the screen. This person is our ideal audience as well as our biggest critic.  We wonder if a line will make them laugh. We wonder if they'll cry. We wonder if they're wearing underwear.

The muse should be someone you're attracted to. You try harder if sex may be involved at the end. In this respect, it is important not to use your mother or father as a muse. There's a reason Oedipus Rex never wrote a NY Times best seller.

Some possible muses: 

You may think that I have only selected photos of Javier Bardem and you would be right. 


5. Read good work that will inspire you.
In my case, I read a lot of blogs. These days I like Splitsider, Fresh Exchange, Cupcakes and Cashmere, Refinery 29. Basically if a site has comedy or a cute dress, I will look at it. By all means, don't read amazing pieces of literature like Nabokov. This will only make you feel like you suck. Unless you write like Nabokov. In which case, why the hell are you reading this blog?

6. Do something with your hands
Whether it's cleaning the apartment, rearranging the closets, or strangling someone,  I find that physical activity helps me get over creative blocks. Maybe it has something to do with neurons. If you're a scientist and you're reading this, can you lend us any insight? Also, can you lend us any money?

7. Keep a notebook
I like to jot down any observation or anecdote in a notebook. Funny things I overheard or weird social situations I was in that day. Names of characters. Wardrobe details. I make lists of things that annoy me or piss me off. Things my family did that drove me crazy. Ellen Sandler, the writer/producer behind Everybody Loves Raymond, says that those are the details that fuel tv shows like Seinfeld (all about social situations and modern day annoyances) and Everybody Loves Raymond (all about the ways your family drives you crazy.)

I took a class with the hilarious Becky Drysdale and she had us keep a similar list. Whenever you're stuck on how to begin, just turn to your list and use it as a springboard. 

8. Do exercises
One of Twyla's creative exercises involves giving yourself little challenges. She talks about how George Harrison decided to write a song based on the first book he saw at his mother's house. That song was "While My Guitar Gently Weeps."

So you could do things like write a story about the first person you see on the subway today. Or choreograph a dance using the first song you hear on your ipod. Forcing yourself to create something on the spot will prove to be liberating.

9. Write something crappy

They say (I don't know who "they" are exactly but I'm too busy feeding my muse to find out) that you should write the crappiest thing possible. This will help you get over your fear of writing something crappy. And the only thing you have to fear is the fear of knowing you are crappy.

10. Be near water.

There's nothing like watching the undulating waves to inspire you. Since I'm in NYC, I just walk over to the East River to get my water fix. I just have to make sure I don't jump into it if I'm feeling particularly uninspired.

So those are my 2 pesos  on avoiding writer's block. Hopefully, if I every become successful, I can give you my 2 euros about being successful.

Please share any tips on how you get inspired! 


photo credits: Guardian, Simply Breakfast

writer's food pyramid

I strictly adhere to this food plan.  

New Yorker cartoon via

hot pink lipstick

Since people have not been asking me, I will happily tell you that I got my awesome hot pink lipstick at MAC.

I got inspired to wear it from this post. 

Mine is called Impassioned and you can buy it here.

Side note: I wonder how companies name their beauty products. Do I look impassioned to you?

perfect caipirinha

Mariposas!

It is so sunny outside and naturally that makes me crave caipirinhas--the Brazilian cocktail that consists of muddled lime, sugar, and cachaca (Brazilian sugar cane liquor).

When I was in Brazil last January, me and my friend Vidya went to town on those caipirinhas. There was no town after we were done. My fave places for caipirinhas were Forneria Sao Sebastiao and Rio Scenarium (both in Rio de Janeiro) and Maria Mato Mouro in Bahia.

Who says you can't find love in a glass?

Vidya with her caipirinha at Rio Scenarium. Yes, caipirinhas make you glow.

Do you know where I can find a yummy caipirinha in NYC? I'm going through withdrawal!