"Next!"

So, my best friend, Anthony, has a very strong opinion when it comes to me and men. First of all, I ALWAYS has his opinion, so I can't scold him for having one. However, I will say, he never thinks anyone is good enough. Whether it be their name, background, etc., Anthony NEVER can say "yea, good call, good choice". NEVER.

Just a thought...because currently there is someone...who Anthony thinks is not good enough due to his name.

Weekends in Italy

Over the past few days I've been thinking about a great variety of really random things. These things include, but are not limited to, and in no particular order, are the following:

1. Weekends in Italy

2. How much I want to study abroad in grad school

3. How much I hate the untag option on Facebook

4. How thankful I am for my life

5. How I'm so sick of talking about the Presidential election, global warming and the "economic crisis"

6. How I love my job, but I wish it was full-time...and at the same time how I'm happy it's NOT full-time.

7. Etc. Etc. Etc.

Most of these are general thoughts, however numero uno seems a little peculiar, I'm sure. I was thinking about the weekends in Italy from 2007. When I studied abroad, I was never eager for the next day. I was never anxious about getting a day finished and onto the next. I never wanted the weekdays to fly by and get to the weekends. Not saying that I didn't love my weekends (that's what this post will eventually evolve into) but more commenting on the fact that I honestly and truly "lived each day to the fullest", as cliche as it may seem. I literally seized each and every friggin' day. Not many people can say they go through life doing that, and I'm not going to claim I'm still doing it, however, I know that I should.

In Italy, my days were full of class, exploring the espresso, exploring the surroundings and exploring the nightlife. Granted, this does not sound like the most stressful of situations, and I'm not going to say that it was, by any stretch of the imagination. Basically, I was constantly busy. I napped twice in Italy. Twice. Count em. On average, I got about 5 hours of sleep each night, getting home around 5am and waking up at 10am for my first class. Give or take a few days, and a few hours. It was about 90-something degrees each day with full humidity and I remember actually having the nerve to complain about how hot it was. What was I thinking? WHAT the HELL was I THINKING?! I would do anything to be back in that humidity, walking 4 miles to school every morning with my roommate, Veronica. Veronica would make me walk everywhere, everyday, and in the end, I'm so glad we rarely took public transportation. The things I saw on the old city streets of Rome are things I will never forgot and can never be replaced.

This past weekend, I was thinking: we would travel every weekend in Italy, never spending one weekend in Rome. At the end of each weekend, even though we loved all of the places we traveled, we were always ready to be back at home in our apartment in the middle of Trastevere, Rome. Why was that? I'm not quite sure. I was trying to think of a reason myself, because I'm typically not like that. I live for adventure. I live for being somewhere different, always. I'm not sure why we would always be excited to get home. I'm thinking it was because we never ran out of things to do in Rome. I never once said "wow, I'm bored".

I aspire to someday live in a place that feeds me constantly, more metaphorically than anything. I want to be in a place, maybe Rome, that isn't boring, that doesn't have that "end of the weekend" feeling like Connecticut does (haha). I love Connecticut, sort of, but I mean, for obvious reasons it does not compare to Rome. If you have any ideas as to why I felt this way, let me know. I just really wonder why I was so content. I want to feel that way again with home. However, I think I left my heart close to where I left my dreams. I'm not sure if I'll ever really feel like that about Connecticut. Ya win some, ya lose some, Constitution State.

"I like my money right where I can see it...hanging in my closet!"

Ohhh, Carrie Bradshaw--how you epitomize my thought process, time and time again! So here's the thing: I am absolutely OBSESSED with fashion. Not only fashion, but style. The artistic process of having an idea, putting together a garment, choosing color and everything else in between all of those steps, and not particularly in that order. I've always been a fan of clothing in general, especially designer items and quite frankly it's in my blood to be a part of this industry, I'm now sure of it. My grandmothers have always designed and sewn up clothing, one of them worked for Vogue in New York City in the 40's and 50's. My mom had instilled in me when I was younger that although we weren't making clothes as a means to get by, it always gave you what you wanted. It was, I believe, her way to get exactly what she was looking for and put her own creativity into the mix.

Needless to say, with all the women in my family being creative in the aspect of fashion, both the design and production of a garment, my mom signed me up for sewing lessons when I was younger. It was a pretty legit place, actually and I hate to say it but I don't even know how many times a week I would go. Let's just put it this way, I felt like I freaking lived there. While most little girls were still in dance lessons, I was learning how to produce what I loved, and that was clothing. By age 11 I had my first fashion show, which showcased 4 garments I created. And let's be real here, I know for a fact one of the garments was a bubble skirt that had bright red, purple, yellow and white tulips all over it...another garment was a pajama set. It was nothing haute couture, believe me, but it was something. After that point, I became a little sick of all of it and moved on.

However, sophomore year of high school we had a term paper. I had been known for carrying around a (fake..ugh...) Louis Vuitton Speedy 30 bag and decided I would write my term paper on the evolution of fashion and style. I did great on it, and debated a career in the fashion industry.

Lo and behold, I was a Business Economics major in college, but had a few really great opportunities in the fashion industry. I was an intern for Betsey Johnson in NYC and actually, in the end, got to work at Fashion Week where she showed her Fall 2007 collection. I also recently ended an internship at Hanesbrands in NYC where I assisted with the Bali, Barely There and Wonderbra lines in the Merchandising department. I loved all of the color and design that surrounded me, which kind of leads me to the place I am at currently.

I want a full-time job in fashion. For awhile I was unsure if it was REALLY something I wanted. After interning in, I swear, EVERY aspect of business, I really, really enjoy the style industry. Creativity, design, production, merchandising and what have you...I love it all! It can be a tough industry to work in, I'll say that. There are times when it seems like it's dead end and there are times when you are so high off of the excitement of being under The Tent at Fashion Week in Bryant Park. I wanna do it. I definitely wanna do it.

So, there you have it. My history in the world of style and fashion. Know any contacts in the industry? Holler at your girl.

Stuff White People Like

If you know anything about anything, you'd know that Stuff White People Like is the second best blog on the internet, right after mine. It basically chronicles stuff that white people like. Pretty plain and simple. SO, if you haven't, I highly advise that you take a gander. I promise you'll laugh.

The Return Text.

Well, I'm finding myself waiting...FOR DAYS. I've realized it's probably not worth the wait anymore, but let me tell you, I HATE waiting for somebody to return my form of communication. Call it what you will, but I absolutely do not have the patience nor the tolerance to wait around for a reciprocal message. Whether it's an Instant Message that is taking way more than the average response time, a text, a call-back, I can't handle it. I go absolutely mental. Not to sound like an anal, time-constrainted freak, but sometimes, lack of punctuality bothers the hell out of me.

I say this because Mufasa missed me, remember? Yea, well, I decided it was a good idea to punt my dignity and self-respect out the window like Adam Vinatieri would punt a football and text Mufasa on Monday...yea, still nothing. I don't want to make him sound like a douchebag asshole, because in all honesty, I don't actually believe that he is. I don't believe that his intentions are malicious and I don't believe that he's a bad person in the least, I just think his priorities are fucked three ways towards the weekend (thanks, Wedding Crashers, for that phenomenal phrase). Sorry if I'm vulgar, but refer to the very first post of this blog: I'm pretty sure I put a disclaimer out there saying I've got the mouth of a sailor. But I digress...I don't think Mufasa is mean, bad or anything of the sort, his life is just pretty effed up at the current moment, meaning he can't figure a damn thing out about anything...if that made any sense...

Moral of the story? Waiting for the return text is not only annoying, but discouraging. Bleh.

...about that last post...or shall I say, "Ai Jesus"?

Well, I can't/won't take it back, because I meant it, but it was a rather intoxicated post. I was irritated and frankly, I still am. But nonetheless I had a fabulous weekend. I really couldn't have asked for much more, as it was Alumni Weekend at my lovelyyy, guidorific alma mater (guidorific is only half true, not EVERYONE is like that...but it's funny to joke about 'those guys'--and the words 'alma mater' just made me sound very old). Great time seeing friends and drinking during the day for no reason other than that's what goes down on Alumni Weekend.

Once again, myself and my closest amigas frequented our favorite dive bar. Once again, I came into contact with Abs, who actually gave myself and my friends free drinks all night. When I say 'gave', I use that term very loosely, considering everytime he'd open a beer for someone I would slyly take it out of his hands and pass it off to one of my friends or keep it for myself. And when I say 'all night', that could be any duration of time, I really have no idea...intoxication ensued on Saturday night, end of story. The best part is, I actually was drunk enough to call him out on posting pictures of myself and my friends on his CreepSpace. I also refered to him as Abs, something I use only for this blog, to ensure that his anonymity is kept.

Along with Abs, considering he isn't actually employed at the Dive Bar, came seeing Mufasa, who actually IS employed at the Dive. Ai Jesus (Ai Jesus = oh god, in Portuguese, FYI). I (proudly) obtained a pretty sweet (and sweaty, liquor-stained) Alumni Weekend t-shirt that they were giving out if you arrived early enough. Due to the fact I was drinking heavily, I did not arrive early enough, therefore I obtained MUFASA'S pretty sweet (and sweaty, liquor-stained) Alumni Weekend t-shirt. Ai Jesus. Much chit-chat occured, "catching up" in under 10 minutes and asking each other how we were doing and vise versa. Then, he HAD to drop the line "I miss you, Kris". He just had to, didn't he? Doesn't it just make sense that the second he is, in all cliche-ness, out of sight out of mind, that he decides it's appropriate to let me know that he misses my existence? Ai Jesus. So what do I say? "Yea, yea I miss you, too". WHAT?! Oh hey, dignity? Self-respect? Yea, CIAO! because I decided it was also appropriate to let him know that I missed him, with no regard to the dignity and self-respect things. I mean, as my friends and I love to say, he was great before he started sucking. I'm still trying to figure out if this is something I'm going to do, to sort of, re-initiate things...I guess you'll need to stay tuned.

Moving on--now it's Monday. I'm absolutely exhausted, I'm currently chugging a Venti Skinny Vanilla Latte in hopes of some sort of revival of my energy so I can head to the library and continue the slave labor that is known as my M.B.A. and quite frankly, that's not how I intended on spending my Monday night. On the upside, I think I may tune in and watch (get ready...) 'The Hills' tonight on MTV. I know what you're thinking. "Wow, this Kristen, she sure likes intelligent media". And the response to that is no, no I do not. I love The Hills, I love LOST and I adore Perez Hilton. So much for intelligent media.

The only real reason I'm writing this right now is because Tamara has this shit bookmarked on her computer and whenever she's bored she somehow turns it into me having to write a blog entry. Beyond that, I'm also waiting for a 20-page document to print from my computer that is taking entirely too long.

Is it time to go to Spain yet?

This may be awkward because I'm a lil intox....

....but one of my roommates, Valerie, is the mother fucking Gestapo of electricity. You can't make this shit up. Homegirl will turn off my light while I'm showering and I need to Helen Keller my way back to my room, yet has the balls-forward audacity to keep her television on for 4 hours when we're at the mahhhhfuckin bar. Like, really? She has the mofo audacity to yell when we're two rooms away, about keeping a light on, yet clearly, she isn't a fucking chemist. Depending on what type of light you use (incandescent or flourescent) it can cost more to turn it off and on in a short period of a time than it would to just leave it on. However, this is not the same for televisions. So thanks, Val, for jackin up the bill by leaving ABC Family on for 4 years. Hope your empty ass bed really enjoyed The Secret Life of An American Teenager.

GOOD TIMES.
discuss.

My friends are brilliant...and I just write this blog.

I want to start out by saying that my friends are fan-freaking-tastic. We come from a small town in Rhode Island where not much goes on and basically not many people before us really left the town. It's a definite homebody, close-knit community full of middle to upper class people, and people on the Southern part of town are 98% Portuguese, meaning, the people my age are first-generation Americans.

Regardless of where the people come from, I seemed to find myself a niche 8 years ago in high school. I had a niche of friends and we honestly and truly were inseperable. We all went out different ways upon graduating and explored different areas of the country and the world. Now, after the culmination of college, I would like to think I have some of the best people in the world, as my personal friends. The amount of things these people have seen and done is phenomenal. Let's put it this way: one of my friends moved out to Chicago, she works as a consultant for a huge company and she's going phenomenally being her own, amazing self, in Chitown. Three of my friends are engineers, with the fourth on his way after he completes his last year of college, due to enrolling in a 5-year program. One of my friends moved to D.C. to begin her job and two left D.C.: one in search of a Master's degree in Public Health at USC and the other moved to Spain to teach children in an elementary school English. One of my friends works for GE in upstate New York as a PR girl and she rocks the party at what she does. She really is one of the best people in the world, or at least I think so, that could be doing PR for GE.

One of my friends moved down by the beaches and is teaching at an elementary school, and two others are in doctorate programs for physical therapy. My saving grace works as an accountant for a large insurance company in Boston and my other saving grace has moved to London and now works as an investment banker there. One of them works for a non-profit organization and gets to rub elbows with the likes of Alicia Keys. She's been to Africa countless times and spends her every waking moment making a difference. I really do have the most kick-ass group of friends a chick can ask for. I could go on, but I don't want you to feel bad about your friends ;-) kidding. But really, I could go on, but I feel as though I've done enough bragging for today...

2010 World Cup

As you can tell by the random assortment of topics on this bad boy, I'm really into many things. For example: going out to the bar, my friends, foreigners, vodka, traveling and football. And by football, I don't mean American football. I mean what the REST of the world considers 'football' and we ignorantly call it 'soccer'. Regardless, it's my favorite sport (ironically, my second favorite is also football, but this time, American) and I have been craving the 2010 World Cup more than ever recently.

Just today I was g-chatting with my best friend from home and we decided that basically nothing all that great is going to occur between now and the World Cup in South Africa. It's less than 2 years away. Supposedly, I will be graduating with my M.B.A. in 2010 which would happen one month prior to the beginning of the Copa del Mundo, however, there are no graduations, no milestone birthdays, nothing exciting. It shall be many days of waking up early and reporting to work and then sitting at a desk all day. I really want to try and score tickets to a game in South Africa in 2010, but it's probably going to be way to unrealistically expensive. I'm going to work on it though, I would love to surprise my best friend from home, Anthony. I think he'd really love that.

"Every 4 years during the month of June, sick days around the world increase 300%."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCqu8BmJHug

^my favorite commercial..EVER.