Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Nice Guys: 12 Days a Year


How fantastic is this! It's a calendar, featuring "nice Jewish guys." What a great holiday gift to give a single girl with a sense of humor, or maybe just a girl who loves Jewish guys!

Via Perpetual Kid

Monday, November 29, 2010

A Break-Up

After recently going through my own, I came up with a description of a break-up. Feel free to share your own experiences.

The only way to describe heartbreak is it sucks A LOT. Some days it sucks more. Some days it sucks surprisingly less than you think it should. Then, the next day, it sucks more than it ever has.

You hate yourself. You hate him/her. You hate that you're alone. You hate other couples. You hate that you feel so powerless, that you let yourself get to such a vulnerable point, that you cared so much. You hate that they're probably not thinking about you while you're completely haunted by thoughts of them. You hate that they moved on. You hate the thought of their happiness without you in their life. You hate that once the hurt and missing goes away, you're left with a deep abyss of nothingness.

But mostly, you hate the fact that you miss that person so much, and you can't do anything about it but feel the pain and the soul-crushing want.

Quote of the Day


"The more I talk about 5'9, 112 pound 18-22 year olds, the more I end up pouring cereal in the morning for some middle aged divorcee's child." - My friend, discussing his dating life.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

What Wilton Doesn't Want You to Know


Wilton Rolled Fondant...











IS PEOPLE! IT'S PEOPLE! IT'S PEOPLE!!

Racist Fondant Via Jezebel

Friday, November 26, 2010

Boardwalk Empire is Hella Creepy, But I Love It


HBO's series, Boardwalk Empire, is one of those shows you either love or hate. I happen to love it. I watch it every Sunday night. I never miss an episode. I love the writing, acting, storyline, lavish sets, etc.

This season is almost to a close. It's getting hella creepy. Van Alden, the FBI Agent, has already revealed his fetish for self-flagellation. He likes it so much that he has huge scars all over his back. Doesn't his wife ever ask him about those? This past episode he was so weird that he even skeeved out Margaret, the Irish immigrant/widow/Nucky's new bed buddy. Once he started talking about how he looks at her picture (from when she was 16) every night, she was all:

In the end, we saw him drinking at a speakeasy and (seducing?) Lucy, Nucky's jilted, sad, pathetic, half-retarded, baby-talking lover. Paz de la Huerta is a horrible actress. Sometimes I think she's good, and then I realize I have no idea what I'm talking about. I think she's so bad at acting that she tricks you into thinking she's better than she is. It's the Jedi mind trick of Method Acting. "If I play this so over-the-top and stupid, people won't know that I can't act." I saw her in Enter the Void, and it was the same thing. Also, the being naked every other scene helps out a lot, too. I'm convinced her body of work has only been possible because of her, quite spectacular, body of work.

Lucy and Van Alden had sex. Lucy was on top, her bodacious boobs bobbing as she bounced on Van Alden. Unfortunately, we had to see a very naked Van Alden underneath her, and it was cringe-worthy to watch. Van Alden is not a sexy character: He's the type of guy you don't want to picture naked, ever. The sex scene seemed longer than it was, and by longer, I mean it felt like it went on for hours. When it was over, I needed bleach for my brain. Regarding Van Alden, between the animalistic pounding and visible whipping scars, I may never be right again.

Photo Via Best Week Ever

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

This is Amazing

I just got back from a semester abroad in Europe, and let me tell you, it truly was the most magical, amazing experience of my entire life. The French countryside was like something out of a storybook, the Roman ruins were magnificent, and the men, well, European men are by far the most romantic in the world.

You American men all think you're so suave and sophisticated. Well, think again! European men make you look like the immature, inexperienced little children you are. They really know how to make a woman feel special over there. Unlike the so-called men here in the States, European men know how to treat a woman right.

For one thing, European men aren't afraid to come up and talk to you. And they know how to start slow, with a nice cup of Italian espresso or a long walk on some historic street. They know the places you can't find in any tourist guide. They know the whole history of the cities in which they live—who the fountains are named after, who the statues are.

I remember one unforgettable night in Athens, I sat and listened to a Greek sailor for hours as he told me about the countless men who fought over Helen back in ancient times. Afterward, he told me he loved his homeland even more now that he'd seen it through my eyes. I ask you, would an American man ever say something as deep and beautiful as that?

European men know the most romantic little cafés and bistros and trattorias, candlelit places where you can be alone and drink the most fantastic wine. They tell you what's on the menu and what you should try. (If it wasn't for a certain young man in Milan, I never would have discovered fusilli a spinaci et scampi.) And the whole time, they're looking deep into your eyes, like you're the only woman on the entire planet. What woman could resist a man like that? Then, after a moonlit stroll along the waterfront and a kiss in the doorway of their artist's loft, you find yourself unable to—well, I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

I'll never forget my magical semester abroad. One thing's for sure—I'm ruined for American men forever!

Now, read the Counterpoint.

Via The Onion

Monday, November 22, 2010

Blue Valentine




This movie, starring Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams, is the story of a relationship on the rocks.

Which poster do you like better?

Via Daemon's Movies

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Leo is Killing It


Ok, can I just tell you how excited I am that one of my favorite actors, Leonardo DiCaprio, has signed on to play one of the most prolific serial killers in American history, H.H. Holmes, in his new film based on the amazing non-fiction book, The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson. I just picked up the book the other day, and I can't put it down! It's riveting and incredibly well-written.

The book is the amazingly true story of two men: one is the architect, responsible for the World's Fair in Chicago; the other is an evil, manipulative Svengali who was able to lure a countless number of women to his "Murder Castle" and torture and kill them in most unspeakable of ways: Think the movie, Hostel, only true and old timey. Holmes is the first known serial killer in America.

Leonardo DiCaprio is going to be awesome. I can't wait to see how he portrays him. Holmes was quite handsome and charming. He was a true psychopath. Beneath his cool, blue-eyed gaze and friendly demeanor, there was a brutal murderer who had total disregard for human life. He had the brilliant ability to mimic a flesh-and-blood human being, one filled with emotions and empathy toward others. He was master of manipulation and underneath it all he was a monster. He admitted to 27 murders, 9 of which were confirmed, but many believe there may have been as many as 200 who fell victim to his charm, which ultimately led to their unfortunate fate.

I was born with the devil in me. I could not help the fact that I was a murderer, no more than the poet can help the inspiration to sing. ...I was born with the Evil One standing as my sponsor beside the bed where I was ushered into the world, and he has been with me since. - H.H. Holmes

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Going Through It


There's really no other way to describe the feeling of the stages of emotional crisis than to say: "You're going through it." You're dealing with it. You're feeling the different emotions. You're grieving the loss of what once was. You're letting go of the pain. You're accepting change whether you want to or not.

They say "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." This is true, but it also hardens you. I think of a heart entangled in vines, beautiful green vines, full of life and blossoming with tiny white flowers. When the pain reaches you, when the exquisite hurt envelops you in its darkness, the vines harden, the white pearls of flowers shrivel, and they tighten around the heart. They wrap around it until the heart can barely beat, and then out of the stiffened, now brown vines, the thorns pop out and pierce it.

I'm not sure if those piercings in your heart ever go away. Even after time passes and years go by, do those tiny holes disappear? Or, do they evolve into invisible scars? You might not be able to see them, but you can feel them. They never leave. The vines and the white flowers grow back: they wind through the tiny holes like serpents in the grass. We're stronger, yet forever marked, branded by the heartache in our lives.

Maybe when we experience deep hurt, the puncture wounds exist, so we can always remember what our heart was forced to endure, how we survived, and how we got through it before it killed us.