A few days ago I made the switch over to my own site. I'm still working on tweaking it but all new blog entries will be posted here. I've been using Blogger for years and it's been fantastic to me so it's a bittersweet move. I know I'll use my site for at least a year but who's to say I won't be back next year? Either way, Blogger's been good to me.

Monday, February 9, 2009
.....and the award for Best Dressed goes to...
Kate Beckinsale!

If you watched the Grammy's last night, you saw some fabulous outfits, (like Carrie Underwood's shiny golden number), and some horrific ones (too many to list).

Side Note: "Fabulous" and "Horrific" are currently my favorite words to describe complete opposite things. I will use them often.

However, I have to say that my favorite dress of the night was the amazing black satin mermaid gown that Kate Beckinsale sported. It fit her like a glove, and accentuated her already perfect body. Above the knee, it suddenly flared out. The top layer, a continuation of the satin, was hemmed in black sequins. But it was the bottom layer that did it. All fashionistas know that
tulle = love = heaven = a must for a perfect gown.
The beige and black sheer fabric that reached the floor perfected the dress.

Good job to Reem Acra for creating the breathtaking dress
and good job to Kate's stylist.
Whoever you are, I want to meet you[...]
via Confessions of a NYC Fashionista

She's my in-real-life friend and goes to the same school as me. She's also smart and hilarious. Read and enjoy!

Labels: NYC

Sony Releases New Stupid Piece of Shit That Doesn't Fucking Work
(If you can't tell from the title, NSFW!)

My brother sent me a link to a site where you can make your own handwriting fonts, for free! How freaking awesome is that?

Here's what mine looks like:


It's ridiculously easy. All you do is download the file,



And fill it in!



There's even one for any unusual symbols you might want to use.



Then, you scan and upload it to the website. At the moment, there are "45 font generation tasks are currently in the queue." I constantly hit refresh but I'm not a very patient person, it turns out.

Once it loads, you get a preview of what your font looks like.



As you can tell, my "y" and "2" are terribly large. My period is also a bit out of wack. But it's still a pretty cool experience, having your handwriting on your computer.

Just in case you have a very messed up desire for a messy handwritten font with accidentally oversized letters, you can download my font here. It's creatively entitled "Ania". If you make one, send me it! I love using fonts and I'd love to see your handwriting.

I had promised myself I wouldn't do this. It would never become a topic for my blog posting. But today I just... sorry. I have to do it.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH GOSSIP GIRL?!?

Spoilers Ahead!!!

Okay, so I understood the whole Blair sleeping with Nate's MILF's son. That was awkward, yes, but understandable. Revenge is sweet and all that good stuff. And then Dan and Serena get back together and then break up and then back together. But then Serena dates Blair's new step-brother, who mysteriously disappears after a while. All while Nate quits his whorish ways and settles down with Vanessa, of course only after making out with Jenny and a random Yale TA. I even went along with Dan's dad and Serena's mom having a kid together, even when the plot got more and more convoluted. I was okay with Lily adopting Chuck. It made sense.

What doesn't make sense is Dan sleeping with a teacher. Granted she had supposedly quit at that time but uh... red flag alert! Let's go through her train of thought.

Oh okay, look at me. I'm cute, young, and innocent. I'm even from the Midwest. That must make me extra naive. That's why I'm going to be best friends with two of my students and hardcore bitchy to a different one. Yeah, that makes sense.

'm starting my job towards the end of the year. So the seniors must be headed off to college. God, I remember that. It was what, five years ago? God I'm young. And hot. But more on that later.

I ought to be a bitch of a grader. Seriously, I remember my senior year. Who didn't want to be graded tough? I sure did! So let's be super strict on those grades.

Oh look! A good-looking senior is trying to chat me up while I'm friends with his girlfriend. Awww, how cute. I should definitely go to his dad's gallery alone and awkwardly flirt, since he invited me and all. That's not creepy.

Neither is meeting him up for lunch in randomly cute cafes. Or being awkward when his girlfriend, also my friend and student, shows up. Me and him, we're just friends. He's such a good writer. Being friends with students is all the rage. Only if they're hot though.

That third kid, the one I hate? She sucks. Yeah sure she's got the best GPA in the school and has been touted around as the school's shining star. Screw that. I hate her and her paper sucks. Oh and we should institute a new policy. No phones. But I can meet with students whenever and wherever I want.

God, that stupid third kid just saw me with the cute senior. Ughhh. Oh well. Yeah, I'm being a bit flirtatious and all, running in to him and asking why he didn't notice me but he's so gosh-darn cute. I can say that because I'm from the Midwest and innocent, dontcha know?

STUPID STUPID STUPID GIRL. Why did she have to send Gossip Girl a story about me and my sexy senior? I mean really. What me and him do outside of school is no one's business. We just meet to discuss writing. Honest. I should get her expelled for reading my mind. How did she know I'm actually in love with his sexy bod? She's getting expelled. And then I'll meet with my... student... to discuss the situation.

Oh and while discussing it I can tell him to call me in 5 years regarding having sex. Because then I won't have been his teacher for five whole years! And he won't be dating that pesky student-friend of mine.

Drat, his girlfriend saw him with his hand on my face and took a picture! What am I going to do? I guess I'll just get fired. How does girlfriend know where I live though? To be able to apologize in person and all? Maybe she'll tell my sexy student so he can come by too!

After I'm done guilt-tripping her about reporting a teacher-student relationship I should definitely have sex with her boyfriend. Of course he's her ex by then but I don't know that. As far as I know this under-aged student of mine is taken and I'm going to have mad wild sex with him after being fired from my job because everyone thought I had had sex with him but I didn't yet. I just did now. Yeah. That all makes a ton of sense.

Credits: Picture, Chace Crawford


Can I have this job? Seriously, how sweet would this gig be?

Credits: Club, Guidos from It's My It List, & Definition
I am not a clubber. I don't usually go out on the weekends to random clubs. Partially because I am not 21 and it's usually too much of a hassle trying to get in. But most of the reason why I don't go out is because of guys like these.

Example 1.
We have just walked in and checked our coats. We're standing near the bar, kind of dancing but not really. There are no drinks in our hands and it is evident we are stone cold sober.

A boy in hipster glasses (hereafter called Glasses) and cute in that dorky way walks up to me.

Glasses: Dance with me.

Me: Uh... I just got here.

Glasses: Come on, one dance. I'm not a nerd.

Me: Um...

Glasses (turning to Z): Dance with my friend.
(turning to me): Now will you dance with me?

Me: Ok.

Confession time. I cannot dance. He, too, cannot dance but makes up for it with enthusiasm. He's funny and I stop to watch him a few times.

Glasses: Loosen up!

Me: Give me some time. I just got here and haven't even had a drink!

Glasses: I'm not buying you one. I'm not paying for your company.

Uh... what? Where did I imply that I wanted him to buy me one?

Me: I don't want you to buy me one? I just meant I haven't had any?

Glasses: I don't buy drinks for girls.

Me: I don't want you to buy me one.

At this point, I pull Z in because I see someone we know. We decide to go say hey.

Me: We just saw a friend of ours.

Glasses: Have fun getting someone to buy you a drink.

Example 2.
Two European guys, over 25. Tall, leering, not that good-looking. European #1 is Austrian, #2 is supposedly British.

Austrian (leaning towards Z): We're not from here.

Z: Really? Where are you from?

Austrian: Austria! And England.

Z: Oh that's so cool.

Austrian: Can we buy you both drinks?

Z nods.

I shrug.

Austrian proceeds to introduce us to England and then walks to the bar. We follow.

There isn't too much of a crowd but Austrian turns away and proceeds to a bar much farther away, leaving us with England. That puts him alone with our drinks. He comes back after a few minutes and hands us two drinks that we didn't see made. We're not idiots so we don't drink them but pretend to sip.

Austrian (speaking to me): So what do you do?

Me: I'm a fashion student.

Austrian: I work for Citibank. I make millions.

Me: Uh that's nice.

Austrian: Where are you from?

Me: Here.

Austrian: No really.

Me: Poland.

He doesn't believe me but after a few seconds he decides to drop another glorious tidbit of information.

Austrian: I know the ten riches people in Poland.

And then, regarding Fashion Week.

Austrian: I'm going to all the parties with the Romanian models. I have VIP access. I can bring you. Or we can go on a trip to anywhere you want.

Let's recap.
Step 1. Greet girl.
Step 2. Offer drinks.
Step 3. Disappear with drinks before handing them over.
Step 4. Declare financial status (millionaire).
Step 5. Describe benefits of aforementioned status.
Step 6. Invite girl on trip.

During my whole exchange with Austrian, Z was talking to England. Or rather, he was talking to her neck. He was trying to get up close and personal quite quickly.

We managed to escape, barely.

The rest of the club was filled with overly confident boys with hair that could poke an eye out. They also looked significantly younger than Z and me.

So now I have a few questions for ya'll. Is there any way I could have avoided the nastiness of Glasses? How do you deal with the eyebrow wiggle in clubs? Am I just really bad at avoiding boys?

Labels: NYC