A Christmas Miracle-for real!

The 411 on my blizzardy Brooklyn move is a story for another day. On this snowy Monday, during which I actually made it from Brooklyn’s Clark St. to Manhattan’s 6^th Ave without so much as a drop of snow on my stockings (thank you kindly, Hunter Wellingtons), I’d like to tell a quick tale about a Christmas miracle that happened to me this past weekend.

But first, some background: last holiday season, in between balancing my penchant for pie eating with an equally large desire to lighten the load in my trunk (ha), I enjoyed a free month at Healthtrax, the fancy gym in my fancy Long Island hometown. In between treadmill intervals and locker room showers, I lost one of my most prized possessions: a gold nameplate that my Grandma gave me when I turned 16. I searched high and low, from the gym showers to under my bed, and in every nook and cranny of my 100+ pocketbook collection, but the necklace was nowhere to be found—I even thought it might miraculously turn up when I packed up my Stonehill dorm for the final time back in May, but yet again, no such luck.

Then maybe, I thought it might reappear while packing up the Palace last week, but amidst the holiday hecticness, I resigned that it was still just a fragment of my past, though an ever-present memory of my mind. I was devastated to have lost it—not for it’s gold or glitz or ability to look simply awesome with every outfit—but because it was a gift from Grandma.

And then, just yesterday, while sitting in my new Brooklyn apartment, Mamadukes at my side, unpacking an old Vera Bradly duffle bag that I randomly grabbed from my childhood closet so I could lug my photo album collection to my new home, out fell the necklace! My gold nameplate, looking fresh and shiny as ever, found its way out of the duffle alongside my also-once-missing (though far, far less missed) Blackberry charger.

It was as if Grandma was in the room with us, smiling and laughing and wishing me well on my new home, reminding me one last time of her two signature life rules: (1) that you can never go wrong in a black and white outfit, and (2) that every date should be accepted, because even the iffy-looking boys have cute friends!

And honestly? She couldn’t be more right. Thanks for helping me find my necklace, Grandma. =)

An Ode to the Boys Who Like Boys

I have two questions on this lovely, yet frigid, Wednesday morning: (1) What is the Sundance Channel? and (2) Why the #$%^ did they not choose ME as one of the stars of its newest—and sure to be smash—hit “Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys!?”

I’m serious! In my travels from middle school theatre camp to high school hallways to college clubs and to the streets of New York, I always tend to befriend the boys who like boys—and these boys who like boys have made some of the best friends I’ve had in my years as an a capella-loving, sushi-eating, ANTM-watching recessionista. Honestly, this show was made forme, but now I just feel like crying because I missed the boat on becoming the Sundance Channel’s next—or perhaps even first?—big and fabulous reality star with my big and fabulous entourage of glamorously gorgeous gays.

But, alas! Enter my Chief Boy Who Likes Boys (and oh does he ever!), CM (you can see us above, subwaying home after a night of breaking it down on the dance floor, hence my messy 'do, but the vintage Gucci bag from Le Closet de Mamadukes makes up for it, don't ya think?), to wipe away my proverbial tears (proverbial because I know CM would totes call me out on an un-fierce make-up application—he watches too much Tyra!) and promise me that we’ll audition for the next season. And then enter NW, another one of my favorite boys who likes boys (and ladies, this is a true shame—this BWLB is smokin'!), who actually proposed that we create our own show. If this doesn't have BRAVO written all over it, I don't know what does. Andy Cohen, have your people call mine and we an arrange a sit down over Cosmos.

So, mysterious Sundance Channel: stay tuned! Because your ratings are about to learn the meaning of “skyrocket” when KR, CM and NW break out onto the scene…or at least the dance floor of the newest and hottest club in Hell’s Kitchen!

So Long, Farewell...

This weekend was one of hellos and goodbyes. With several of my favorite pals back in town for the Christmas season, my Saturday night was a "guys night out" in honor of my dear friend, CA, who is moving back to his native Sri Lanka at the end of the month. I'll miss him terribly, but our celebratory good-bye bash with MM and SR was the perfect way to send him off in style. Naturally, I taught them all how to Dougie while dominating the dance floor at Phebes, decked in my signature leopard.

Sunday morning started a little earlier than I would have liked (read: peeling myself from the warm cocoon of my bed before noon was not high on my list), but was well worth the mimosa-filled brunch at AC's Murray Hill apartment. As our tradition goes, we took a "pitcha by the treeeee" before exchanging Secret Santa gifts. DA hit the jackpot, giving me Godiva chocolate and a pink bangle bracelet, which was wrapped gorgeously in gold paper, while I gave CO an Ork poster of her new city. And, to top things off, BT, who was in town for the weekend, made a guest appearance! Discussions ensued on every politically incorrect topic under the sun, and I don't think I stopped laughing once.

Campfire Chic

Alright. It’s been just a tad freezing for the past few weeks in New York. So freezing, in fact, that I must have lost few brain cells, making me silly enough to still wear leggings with flats and a chiffon top to work in the dead of winter—but at least my shoes were cute and my pants stretchy enough for pizza Friday! Anyhow, in attempt to fight the Alaskan-esque dip in temperature we’ve got going on, I’m in the market for a new coat. And as much as I never, ever, ever want to take off the leathery perfection that is my sample sale-bought Tory Burch leather motorcycle jacket (rawr...I'm so edgy!), I need something a little more practical for when the snow starts to fall, turning my new Brooklyn block into an incredibly photogenic site (right KG?!). But the thing is, those awesomely warm, three-quarter length puffers that look so snuggly and warm and wonderful also make their wearers look like marshmallows. I actually love marshmallows, both in the form of Fluff and as the compliment to Hersheys chocolate and graham crackers during the camping trips I’ve never actually gone on (come on, can you imagine ME camping?), but I digress! Do I really want to look like a marshmallow?!

Honestly? If it will keep me warm, I just might suck it up. I could call it “Campfire Chic.” Any suggestions? Please keep the puffery to a minimum--I want the real deal here! (Ha, that was too easy.)

Brooklyn, We Go Hard.

After two incredibly conspicuous hints over the past two days (first, that my news involves a brownstone, and second, that it comes with far less space than my current abode in the Queens Palace), I'm ready to reveal my big and fabulous announcement: I, KR, Queen of Queens, am bouncing boroughs to my dream neighborhood. While I'll always look back fondly at my times in Middle Village (for few locations house such happy memories of spending time with my amazing Grandma who called the Palace home before me!), it's time to graduate to a new home in Brooklyn Heights. Aside from the fact that I’ll no longer have to take the Q11 just to get to the subway, freezing my tush off at the bus stop each morning and night (albeit stylishly in my furry pink earmuffs!), I’m no longer living alone!! AD, my new roommate extraordinaire, and I bonded instantly over our mutual love of Foley + Corinna bags, sweet potatoes, GLEE and Strongbow... could I have gotten any luckier?!

Well, yes, actually. Because you see, my friends, family and phantom readers alike (hi, JW), this view is my backyard. Who's in for a housewarming?! Naturally, this will play on repeat.

Entrepreneurial KR Rocks the Shoe Rack

Another hint about the big news I'm going to share soon: it involves much less space than I've got right now... (Have you guessed yet?!)

So, in an attempt to make peace with that, I'm cleaning out shop. If you're a size 8 in shoes (and if that's your dress size, me and my hips send our evil envy), strut on over to my eBay shop and color your closet with some Cole Haan that I no longer need! I promise, I have impeccable taste.

A Little Something for the Toms

Getting complimented on my shoes amongst a never-ending sea of ladies in Louboutins just may be the most glamorous accomplishment I’ve had yet in my month-long time at ELLE—though the hallway hello I had from our iconic style director tops the list, as well. Now these shoes that received a compliment—or maybe it was just elevator small talk, but I’ll be optimistic for optimism’s sake—were not a pair of my most ferocious flats, stylish stilettos or bank-breaking booties. They were a pair of Toms. Toms!

I wore my cushy and—gasp!—flat (oh, the horror!) Toms last Friday, after weeks of clacking around the 42^nd floor of the Time & Life Building turned my ankles and arches into aching excuses for some R&R. Honestly, Toms are more like slippers than anything else, hence my hesitation to rock them in public (let alone at ELLE!), but I think the gold sparkles made them worthy enough for the fashion den. Or at least worthy enough in the eyes of this recessionista!

Naturally, in a perfect world, I’d die for my love of leopard to collide with the comfort I find in Toms, but as perfect as these are, I just can’t justify a $100 pair of slippers when my heart’s already been stolen by these…and these…okay, and these, too…

But, alas, I have embraced self-control in the shopping sphere (aren't you proud, Mamadukes?) due to the major news I'll share with y'all tomorrow. Hint: it involves a brownstone...

Things That Didn't Happen This Weekend

No, JT and I certainly did not binge on a total of 26 dumplings on Friday night in preparation for our Stonehill reunion out on the town. (Just like we never ingested full bags of hint-of-lime Tostitos in single sittings on several Sundays during our Stonehill daze (pun intended), while procrastinating a week's worth of work by watching episode after episode of Law & Order: SVU.)

No, I also didn't befriend a pink and green decked Father Christmas in Christopher Square during Saturday's SANTACON, nor did I prove my Vixen the Reindeer-ness (hence the leathaaa jacket, thank you Tory Burch sample sale) by striking a pose on the 1 train platform.

No, ML and I did not skip down 34th St., hand in hand, while singing Frosty the Snowman, hopping across the crosswalk like Buddy the Elf. ML also didn't use a Chanel lipstick to paint on her red Rudolph nose.

No, eight (ish) reindeer and one Australian version of St. Nick himself did not visit Rockefeller Center for some touristy fun to see the twinkling tree after an afternoon of SANTACON-ing, nor did they spend upwards of an hour posing for pictures with precious cherubs who wanted up close and personal shots with the jolly old elf himself... and his antler-wearing chaffeurs, of course.

And no, those eight (ish) reindeer did not watch their fair Vixen befriend the three ten-year-old boys who are all up for the lead in Broadway's Billy Elliot, nor did the voluptuous reindeer-ess show those Broadway bounds her box step, dance-off style, outside Radio City Music Hall, only to be--quite literally--out stepped by their aerial cartwheels and triple pirouettes.

Ha. If only I just told the truth... Can your weekend top that?!

Ho Ho Ho,

KR

Do You Zumba!?

Well, as of 6:15 yesterday, at the underground 50^th St. den of the fit and fabulous otherwise known as “chic-quinox” (thank you, AC!), I do! And I am absolutely hooked! For 45 sweaty minutes, I shook my “hips” and shimmied my “shoulders” to the tune of salsa, meringue and hip hop beats, all for the famed “leaner, longer bod” that Zumba! promises. Now, as a lassie from the Emerald Isle, I should probably stick to the jig and nothing but the jig. My grooving grace is less than fabulous, despite what I might think at 2:59 AM on Friday and Saturday nights when, while approaching last call at whatever Lower East Side dive I tend to find myself in by that point in the evening, I dance my nights away, truly convinced that I have more rhythmic clout than a Rockette. Or a Knicks City Dancer, like my Zumba! instructor, Cindya. (Seriously, I don’t mess around.)

But did I care? No way! I had a blast, I burned mad calories and I didn’t even think twice about the sad but true fact that my krumping looked like a spasm straight out of The Exorcist.

Pumpkin Pie’s got nothing on this Zumba!-ing machine!

Holiday Parties Are Upon Us!

After seventeen-ish rounds of "second" helpings, I emerged from my Turkey Coma on Saturday morning, ready to kick off the season of holiday parties with my characteristic joviality! In honor of RJ's 23rd birthday, I trekked to Park Slope with my favorite posse of New Yorkers, pictured below, where we enjoyed the sprawling space of his Brooklyn abode, in between bites of appetizers and sips of spiked cider. As the first Christmas-themed gathering of the season, I found it the perfect occasion to rock some rocking red lips and my "holiday" scarf. It was an awesome night in the awesome borough!

Awwwwwwww!

Faux-ulous

Fur is fab! Faux or actual (I’m most definitely not a member of PETA), fur in the form of vests, stoles and capelets have been catching my eye as of late, most recently within the walls of ELLE, where the most fashionable of fashion rock their furs in unexpectedly alluring ways (i.e. over a black chiffon dress or as a compliment to a sequined sweater). In my own attempt to jump on the animal-inspired bandwagon, I spent my lazy Sunday scouring the e-commerce marketplace for some fur to add to my own, ever-growing wardrobe. This find from TopShop was my favorite, but I’m holding out for something of the leopard print variety that’s not $600 (but nice work nonetheless, Adrienne Landau).

Any ideas?

My World's Colliding

My shoe obsession is not new news. Neither is my particular love for Tory Burch's Reva, the ultimate adornment in the ballet flat universe. Gold metallic? Check. Black leather? Check. Leopard calf hair? Check (and faint in utter shoe love/obsession). Pink patent? Check.

But isn't something missing there? Not anymore! Purple, the color I once hated but now bleed with pride (thank you, Stonehill), is now the newest addition to my ever-growing collection of Revas. They were on sale! And I needed them for my new job at ELLE! And I just love them! (People are so freaking stylish here!)

I need to stop buying shoes...

Or not.

Putting on Your Pout

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve made some poor make-up decisions in my past, including but not limited to white eye shadow (ugh), blue mascara (ew) and lip liner that didn’t match the rest of my pout (the ultimate faux pas). However, in making these mistakes, I’ve learned some tried and true make-up application tips and techniques that are my go-to looks for various occasions. As of late, I’m obsessed with lipstick. Literally. Good old fashioned lipstick. From a tube. Just call me Joan Holloway. I'm so old-fashioned.

I have three shades that I rotate, which I’m sharing with you on this lovely Friday evening! For your everyday pink, I love Clinique’s Watermelon, which adds a little extra oomph to your 9-5 routine. For kicking things up a notch (or seventeen) for weekend shenanigans, I always rock Schiap by NARS, a bright shocking pink that warrants you wearing it with the ultimate confidence. And, for a wild and crazy red, I turn to MAC’s Ruby Woo, which can be a bit drying, but I love it nonetheless for it's complete lack of an orangey undertone.

Next up, I’m looking for a pale pink to add to my beauty arsenal… Any favorites? I’m eyeing MAC’s Snob and NARS' Roman Holiday…

A Dollop of Daisy... Buchanan!

The day I am finally confident enough in taking care of my own self, I plan to buy a dog. A guard dog. A guard dog that can crawl into my Louis Vuitton Speedy for a nap, that is. I’m thinking a little apricot malitpoo, or something equally cutesy. Like a shih tzu that was the runt of the litter and is not expected to exceed 3 pounds in its adult life. Or maybe just a stuffed animal… Yeah, that’s probably best.

I’ve had my future guard dog’s name picked out for years, ever since I realized that naming a pending pet after my favorite book character is the perfect plan. As such, my precious pooch (or, precious stuffed pooch, rather) will be named Daisy, after the Long Island socialite who stole the heart of the illustrious ol’ chap known as Jay Gatsby.

Le sigh. If only I grew up in the ‘20s. I would die to live as lavishly as those East Eggers did on the posh North Shore of Long Island in the roaring decade. But if you can’t live like ‘em, watch ‘em! On the silver screen, sometime in 2012, the charismatic Carey Mulligan will take on the role of a lifetime, opposite Leo DiCaprio’s Gatsby and Tobey Maguire’s Nick Carraway, as Daisy Buchanan in Baz Lurhmann’s adaptation of Fitzgerald’s classic tale of love and murder. O. M. G!

Naturally, this obscenely nerdy bibliophile can barely contain her excitement. Thankfully, I’ll have the cinematic versions of Harry Potter and crew to keep me sane for the weekend!

Bolting

This weekend, I learned that there is no better way to jaunt between the Big Apple and Beantown than by Bolt Bussing. Friendly passengers and a driver who looked like she won the lottery when I thanked her by name (Karla with a K, for those of you wondering) made for an enjoyable trip up and down on the WiFi-equipped coach. God bless le iPad.

In a fit of spontaneity, fueled in part by my sister's encouragement and my own wishes to relive college a bit before beginning my job at ELLE tomorrow, I traveled back to the days when my weekends were a blur of beverages, brunch and bargain shopping. After a low-key Friday spent rooting the Skyhawks on at the basketball team's home opener, the sis and I hightailed to Wrentham for outlet shopping, where an outrageously purple printed Marc Jacobs dress from Off 5th topped my list of fabulous finds. We then resumed the rooting for another victorious basketball game before putting our primp on in honor of Mr. Stonehill 2010.

As you might remember, I was one of the illustrious hosts for Mr. Stonehill 2009, so I just had to see the boys shine on stage once more! While it pained me to not be up there on stage, bending and snapping for a crowd a la last year, the gentlemen shut it down, making me feel like a proud mama watching from the audience. Props to MG for a job well done! His crown was well deserved--and he was looking quite studly indeed, I must say!

But as with all shows, the after party is what matters most! Without skipping a beat, I was back to my old tricks, dancing the night away to the tunes of Willow Smith and Ke$ha. Hair whipping, cycloning, popping, locking and dropping... I have mad moves.

Stay tuned for some tales from an ELLE insider as I begin my first week at my new job...

Until next time,
KR

Do I like Louboutins and Leather?

As I said to Mamadukes just seconds after this story happened, the following is such a “me” type of event. Let’s recap: after 22 years as an extreme nail-biter, I reward myself for kicking the bad habit with weekly manicures at the NY Nature Spa in Times Square, a spot just a hop, skip and leap over the subway grates away from my current office—and conveniently just a few extra struts away from my new digs at ELLE. Anyhow, yesterday, while Sookie (yes, that’s really her name, but no, she does not resemble Anna Paquin’s vampire-lovin’ Ms. Stackhouse on True Blood) painted my nails an awesome shade of army green (Essie’s new Sew Psyched), I welcomed the smile of the woman next to me, who was rewarding herself with some navy blue acrylic tips.

So rather than wondering were she was from, I asked! (Why not, right?) I should have guessed by her suede boots and glamorous scarf that she’s fresh off the boat from Milano, living in New York for a few months to learn English. Daniella, as I learned, has been here a mere two weeks, and has picked up more English in her brief time here than I could ever dream of learning in fourteen days. (I took Spanish for seven years, and all that remains is a love of tapas and a knowledge of the question, “Donde esta la sangria?”)

We got to chatting—clearly my New York-style speedy chatter had to be slowed down to the basics, but we had a great discussion about our mutual love of leather and Louboutins. And when she said she’s desperate for some friends in New York, I of course took her under my wing! From my amazing week in Italy back in 2008, I know the Italians like their vino quite a bit—so what better way to welcome my new and exciting European pal to the states than with some shopping and wine? I’m determined to show her New Yorkers are as friendly and fabulous as those who welcomed me to Europe’s delicious boot way back when.

Salute!

You Know What Halloween Means...

During my time as crazy JT's college roommate, at the second the clock would strike midnight on All Hallow's Eve, while everyone else was out being spooky and such, the two of us had a far more important agenda. That agenda was welcoming the Christmas season to our dorm with lights, decorations and a tree that took up at least two-thirds of our charming room. And of course, all of this was done while blasting Christmas carols louder than necessary. Keeping with that tradition, I have already started listening to Christmas music like it's nobody's business!

Here are some things I'm psyched about this holiday season:

-watching this YouTube video, which makes me crack up every time, even after the 97th consecutive viewing

-working in Rockefeller Center where the tree will be my backyard

-eating stuffing, twice-baked potatoes, biscuits and basically any carbohydrate-packed treat my 80+ year-old super Grandma cranks out of the kitchen

-listening to this song, which I like more and more each season

-and of course, seeing friends and family!

ho ho ho!

Buying Into the Bargain

I have never really been “one” for the superstores known as Forever 21 and H&M. While my closet does indeed boast a few infamous “going out” tops from both locations, I’m a quality-over-quantity kind of gal who would rather score the racks of TJ MAXX for hours and hours and hours to find an awesome silk blouse that will take me through the seasons than to fill my drawers with ten tops that I know will probably rip before I can even debut the garment.

But after reading my dear NB’s odes to both the recent F21 Times Square flagship and Lanvin’s upcoming H&M line, I had to revisit the retailers whose attire colored my 11PM-2AM wardrobe throughout my years at Stonehill, when everyone was too “college” to care if a shirt had a slight tear.

And let me tell you a-something: I was SOLD! Leaving H&M with SEVERAL dresses (a little sparkly low-back number here, a girly little lace piece there), I’m well on my way to having a newly stocked wardrobe that’s ready to take on the fashionistas at ELLE...or at least the fashionistas of my old high school on the night before Thanksgiving! (No matter where you work, low-back is never approps. Never.) F21, all four underground floors of it, proved to have some awesome options as well—naturally, I flocked to anything animal print.

Now if only I could find a cheaper version of this… That, my friends, would be total and complete wardrobe perfection.

Story By Story

Dearest Readers,

On Thursday, November 18th, I am ascending 42 flights of stairs in a New York City skyscraper for “Story By Story,” a fundraising event to support new beginnings for battered women and their children. Your support is most appreciated as Team Thomson Reuters climbs 756 steps to honor this important cause.

If you are interested in donating, my personal page is accessible at the following link:

http://storybystory.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=435176&lis=1&kntae435176=36F861709EEE4D03B713572FDD53B854&supId=309004437

Any contribution is much appreciated. Thanks in advance for your support--which I'm really going to need, as my thighs still hurt from walking out of the subway!

A Real Life Elle Woods

It is with great excitement that I announce today, that my life-long quest of becoming the next Elle Woods (minus the blonde hair) is well on its way: I have decided to take employment at the publication whose namesake is the same as Harvard Law’s blondest graduate. That’s right, my friends, I, KR have decided to join the ranks at ELLE!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I. AM. EXCITED! After six months of glorified intern life on the Mobility Team at Thomson Reuters, I am taking my first official, full-time position in the Emerging Media division at Hachette Filipacchi Media, the entity that oversees brands such as ELLE, ELLE Décor, ELLEgirl, Woman’s Day, Car & Driver and more. In my position as a Junior Product Manager, I’ll help plan, execute and market ELLE’s iPhone, iPad and Android apps and mobile website. I applied on a whim via MediaBistro, and somehow, the stars aligned in my favor! I gained great experience in the mobile space this summer, and am pumped about foraying from financial to fashion-centric content.

With two weeks to go at Thomson Reuters, I’m sad to leave my team—I feel like I’ve found a family here, and will always look back on the firm as the place that really helped me get my feet wet in Corporate America. But this new role is an exciting one—one that will bring change, great experience and, most importantly, lots of trendy new shoes and belts and bags and dresses and jackets and………You get the idea. Who feels like celebrating?!

Oh, and, this was my 300th post. THREE HUNDRED POSTS. Pretty fitting for such a major announcement, right?

23 Candles

I'm really an incredible hostess. This Friday, after failing at "meeting each other on the subway platform" (honestly, trying to find someone in a no cell service zone makes me literally question the world's existence at a time when texting wasn't a communal crutch), SA and I made it back to Queens a few hours later than we planned. So, like the amazing boriqua that she is, my dear pal offered to cook me dinner while I got ready for our night on the town.

Like I said, I'm an incredible hostess: in the time it took for me to shower, dry my hair, apply make-up and pick out an outfit, SA had prepared penne a la vodka with a side of sauteed eggplant and snow peas. And a screwdriver cocktail. All in the name of getting to our destination on time!

In an evening that took us from an apartment party in Harlem, to Jay-Z's 4040 club (never, ever again) and to the Murrary Hill frat zone otherwise known as Mercury Bar, SA and I relished in the LIRR train stoppage which left Manhattan blissfully void of the bridge-and-tunnel crowd... which, alright, I guess we technically belong to deep-down. Oh well. Life begins with L.I.

Saturday brought birthday celebrations for the fabulous KA (pictured here from our senior formal)! We dined at Dos Caminos, drank at Continental and danced at Phebe's. Turning 23 on the 23rd, it was a golden night for her golden birthday, which I was pumped to be a part of. :-)

The M's of L&O: SVU

So I had this incredibly witty post all about the similarities between Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and M&Ms candy totally set to go, but technology took it away from me. Since I promised you Wednesday, this here is attempt number two. Here goes nothing!

A few days ago, while relishing in the amazingness that is USA's ability to somehow always have an episode of my favorite crime-fighting TV show on air, I couldn't help but think of how closely related L&O: SVU and M&Ms candy are. Seriously! I'll break it into three categories:

1. Quantity. Have you ever eaten just one M&M? (Thought not.) Have you ever watched just one episode during an L&O: SVU marathon? Don't respond. The answer is too obvious.

2. Category. Just as M&Ms can be grouped (i.e. red, blue, green, etc.), so too can episodes of L&O: SVU (i.e. "Clergy Who Kill," "Psycho Sibling Rivalry," ones where the flirtatious tension between Stabler and Benson is too hot to handle, etc.).

3. Likeability. Does anyone ever say no to eating M&Ms? Does anyone ever decline watching an L&O: SVU marathon?

I rest my case.

Idolizing Boots

The feelings I have for these boots are unlike any feelings I’ve ever had for footwear—and I’m not afraid to admit that I have had quite the lovey-dovey obsession with several pairs of shoes before (including but not limited to my Cole Haan Ambrose Air Pumps, my Tory Burch Leopard Print Reva Flats and my Sparkly Gold Toms—swoon!). These bowtied beauties, affectionately dubbed—you guessed it!—Bowtied Beauty Boots by Anthropologie, just might have to make it straight to the top of my gotta, gotta, gotta have list for Fall. Beacause I just gotta, gotta, gotta have ‘em!

Honestly, shoes this cute are as amazingly rare as those Law & Order: Special Victims Unit episodes where Stabler actually dons a policeman’s uniform. And you know how great those episodes are! Which reminds me: stay tuned for tomorrow’s post, in which I compare L&O: SVU to Halloween candy.

I’m not kidding—it’s a scarily accurate analysis. See ya then.

Bought Off the Street

While I'm torn if any city besides the Big Apple could ever truly be my permanent home, you can bet that no matter what zip code I settle in, I will decorate with some seriously New York inspired artwork.

And by inspired, I mean bought off the street. You can't duplicate that character-ridden grit while shopping indoors!

Last Sunday, while strolling around Union Square with SA, searching for a ledge on which to enjoy our Artichoke Pizza, we passed by an adorable couple who are the masterminds behind mixed media pieces that merge the magic of my two favorite artists. I'm not kidding: their work looks like something that could only be the offspring of an Andy Warhol and Jackson Pollack union... if that were biologically possible. Check them out here at Esteban Kremen Art, and in person on the weekends in Union Square. I was particularly mesmerized by any piece that featured the Brooklyn Bridge and definitely plan to splurge soon!

"I have a tooth to pick with you."

Better late than never... my alumni weekend recap has arrived. Enjoy!

Though yet another pair of my aviators fell victim to Stonehill socialization, I think it was a fitting way to leave my mark on my first alumni weekend. Starting the mini-vacation off with a cruise up I-95 with KA and LR, my former housemates got to relish in the acoustic amazingness of my TI-heavy playlist. Precious Pink bumped tunes the whole way up, setting the stage for what was an awesome and eventful weekend (Oh, for those of you new to this blog, Precious Pink is my iPod. Yes, she really has a name.).

Let's recap in the most KR-appropriate style possible. Let's make a list.

Friday night:

-Quincy house reunion dinner. Lobster was involved. "I'm Too Sexy for My Shirt" was played. Juicy gossip was exchanged. In a nutshell, Cloud 9 was the name of the game.

-Young alumni event. I don't think I've ever given more hugs in such a short span before, and I'm someone who seriously embraces embracing! Dance moves were busted, mango-infused cocktails were drank, friendships were rekindled, old flames were ignited (yeah right) and chats with the chattiest of chatty reminded me why I love Stonehill so much. I also rocked a feroshh (that's an intentional double h) purple dress, oh the insanely still spirited Skyhawk that I am and will always be.

Saturday:

-Quincy Marriott. There is nothing like starting the morning off with a little throwback Kirsten Dunst (pre-rehab and Peter Parker). You know which flick I'm talking about... Does "I'm sexy, I'm cute, I'm popular to boot" ring a bell? Thought so. Yes. We indeed watched Bring It On.

-Stonehill stroll. The new dorm resembles the Ritz Carlton. Now, while I've never actually stayed in the Ritz Carlton, I imagine its luxury is on point with that of Stonehill's “New Hall,” soon to be “KR Hall” if my dreams come true.

-Sports Complex Parking Lot. So maybe our tailgates are a little pedestrian compared to those at the two other Catholic colleges who engaged in a brutal Holy War the same weekend, but I still had a damn good time hopping between cars, exchanging even more hugs like the embrace monster that I am.

The best part of the weekend wasn't the time I went behind the counter of Sweeney's Discount Liquors to take a picture with M, the cashier who was still so kind to give me an employee discount despite that fact that I’m not technically a student anymore. Nor was it the time I watched KA and BC battle it out hula hoop style in the family fun tent. Nor the time JW assaulted me to ensure his photographic presence on this here blog. Nor the time I broke into KA's car to retrieve my Magners and—whoops!—set off the alarm for a good ten minutes as I attempted to hide from the Jeep’s blaring alarm. Nor the time DG thought the phrase “I have a tooth to pick with you” was the proper lingo to express dissatisfaction. Nor the time KA threw down a $100 gift certificate at the Young Alumni Event to treat her old pal to a few cocktails--though that was definitely a close second, obviously!

No, the best part of the weekend was the surprise to top all surprises. JT, who you all know well, my former roomie but eternal partner in Law and Order: Special Victims Unit-watching crime, fresh from a group meeting at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville (which is pronounced Knox-vuhl, I learned), strolled onto campus in the most shocking entrance since Paul McCartney's parlay onto the Shea Stadium stage back in 2008. To say the least, it made for a fabulous Saturday!

Sunday:

-Wagamama. The name says it all. KA and I dined here for old times sake, as we did back when we were UK residents, back when this blog was called "Tales from Canterbury" and back when I subsisted solely on tortellini and Nutella, yet was somehow somewhat (somewhat) skinny. (No joke: that was literally my "study abroad" diet. I clearly had other fiscal priorities while across the pond. Priorities like leather jackets, pashminas and RyanAir flights.)

-NL's. Having pre-arranged a work day at TR's Boston office, I perched on NL's Southie couch all day Sunday, watching Jersey Shore and chowing down on Upper Crust Pizza alongside my dear pal.

PHEW. THE END.

Wild for the Warewolf

Before Bill [Compton] and prior to [Robert] Pattinson, there was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. (Remember when they did that musical episode?! SOOOOO freaking good.) And on that show was a warewolf. His name was Oz. He had a brief love affair with Willow the Witch. I don't remember anything else, though. Truth be told, that show seriously freaked me out. But anyhow, this post is not about vampires, wiccans or wareweolves: it's about the fact that Oz's real life namesake talked to ME today. ME!

That's right, folks. I, KR, met the one and only Seth Green.

We met at Artichoke Pizza in the East Village at approximately 4:30 PM. He, in all his 5'5" glory (damn, is he short!), walked by a neon pink and green sunglass-wearing brunette, said "Excuse me," and went on his merry way into Alphabet City.

That neon pink and green sunglass-wearing brunette was (well duh) me, in my own 5'5" glory (All my other normal looking sunglasses were MIA. NBD, though. I was below 14th Street. No rules!!!!). To his request, I obviously moved out of the way, too star struck to even mutter a charming, "Anything for you, Seth."

It was the best early bird special of my life.

For the Love of LEOPARD

The Alumni Weekend update is coming. It's typed on my iPad, but my wireless is as cooperative as a terrible two toddler, so no can do for now. Stay tuned. But I'll amuse down another avenue on this gorgeous Sunday. Let's talk about shoes. More specifically, a pair of booties that are itching for an unveiling in the worst way.

Be warned. These babies are as far from your basic black as can be.

Amazing, right?! Mr. Haan is yet to craft a pair of shoes that I don't like. I need to plan their debut carefully. Any ideas? I'm also working on a time to wear my Free People pink tutu skirt. And I'm not talking Halloween. My clothes are as loud as, well, me. So it's just fitting!

In other news, my weekend was wild! Friday marked both JT's birthday bash and MM's return to NYC, so needless to say, the night took us from Irish Rogue (for the Strongbow on tap!) to The Snug (for the extended happy hour and precious name!) to Continental (for their infamous deal!) and finally to M1-5 (for dancing!). Oh, and that last place? It's in Chinatown. Yes. We went out below Canal Street.

Saturday took me even farther into the city, where I dined on wine with RJ and RW in Park Slope!

And finally, to close this one out, here's a pic of me with my gents. Love them!

A Swing by Southie

My weekend in Massacusetts, lengthened just a tad by an impromptou business visit to the Boston office of Thomson Reuters (how official!), was made ever more fabulous by my time in the Irish capital of America, where I spent my South Boston Sunday lounging in front of a Netflix-ed disc of Jersey Shore Season 1 (read: when a "situation" was just a striking set of circumstances (not a Twitter-obsessed, muscle-resplendent, abbrev-spewin' fist-pumper), when "t-shirt time" meant bedtime (not the attire compliment to your nighttime shades) and when gym, tanning and laundry were simply your Saturday errands (not the three words that turned a reality TV show into a cultural phenomenon)).

Long due for a catch up with fellow Stonehill grad NL, I enjoyed my day-long veg-out on her incredibly (maybe even frighteningly) comfortable couch. It was the icing on the cake to my first alumni weekend at Stonehill... for which there will be a witty and wonderful re-cap post soon, dedicated to no one but my dear (and extremely charming) pal JW.

Until next time,

KR

hello color...

This picture makes me smile. Maybe it's the cosmo, maybe it's her awesome curls, or maybe (probably...) it's the awesome bright colors. They're definitely more spring than fall, but I think that's pretty fitting, as we're in the complete midst of an Indian summer here in NYC. To take a break, I headed back to Long Island for a few days of R & R.

Have a great weekend. :-)

A Material World

There's only so much hip shaking I can handle to the dance floor beats of Usher, Justin and Drake, but play me some Madonna, and I'll break it down for days. Last night brought the Material Girl's title jam back into my life, while SA and I befriended the entire basement of Bowery Electric. It was a weekend filled with new friends and new venues--but minimal sleep!

Now, honestly... while I do love me some GaGa, do you honestly think that meat dress-wearing monster will ever be able to replace Madge herself?! I think not.

A Cool Wall

The unbelievably fabulous fall I hoped I'd have is still underway! Friday marked Fashion's Night Out, so I joined every other girl on the island of Manhattan in SoHo, after a little appetizer and gossip with some Stonehill friends at LR's Gramercy studio. Celebrity sightings were minimal, but we did see Jenna Lyons, the creative genius behind J.Crew. Slight swoons on all our parts followed.

Saturday, at the Standard Beer Garden, I bid farewell to my dear BT, who is skipping from NYC to Boston for a new job in higher education. I'm sad to see her go, but excited for the big things she has in store. From there, partner in crime CM and I had a little fashion shoot in the Meatpacking District, before joining BL at Public House to cheer on the Fighting Irish. Sad loss, but a fun time!

Here are some pictures from our photo session. Isn't this wall great?! I was decked in red, white and blue in honor of September 11th. Have a great week, and God Bless NYC!

Giving Back

As a proud Stonehill grad, I have high hopes of donating enough for the institution to warrant naming a building after me (and obviously painting it pink, too). And who knows! After Thursday's "Budgeting Bombshell" post, maybe that'll be a reality pretty soon! In the time being, though, I've taken to a more wallet-conscious way of giving back to my alma mater: I'm their resident alumni blogger! Read if you wish... :-)

Happy Weekend!

Budgeting Bombshell

You know what the biggest and chicest and most freaking fabulous trend this fall is? $aving--with a capital $! You see, I was lucky to start my job just a hop, skip and six days after getting my diploma, so I went on a bit of a spending spree for the summer months. And while I love, love, love my new goodies (a few NARS lipsticks here, a little Marc Jacobs black dress there...), September marks the month in which I plan to add some serious padding to my savings.

In doing so, I budgeted out the amount of moolah I can shell out to various categories, so I'm extra mindful of not throwing away my precious bucks where it's not necessary. I've been doing great so far, so I thought I'd share my top tips to becoming rich. HA. (Some day!)

1. Bring lunch. It's a no brainer! Those salad bar concoctions from the office cafeteria add up quickly. Now, when I cook dinner, I purposely make an extra-large portion so I can pack up the leftovers for my mid-day meal. I'm still a lady who lunches... but I wear an especially recession-savvy hat now.

2. Say no to drinks. Water is better for you anyways! Nixing Starbucks and vending machine purchases takes some getting used to, but in the end, you'll thank me. And when it comes to those of the boozey variety, bid buh-bye to those extra dirty martinis you adore quite possibly too much... at least it you're anything like me! Find a bar with a never ending happy hour instead.

3. Get a hobby. Taking a cue from Bethenny's infamous line from this season's Real Housewives of NYC, find a hobby that does not involve shopping online, shopping in a mall, shopping in SoHo (God help us). Read a [library] book in the park and take advantage of this precious fall breeze. Call an old pal and rekindle an old bond. You'll think of something!

4. Organic... schmorganic. Gimme a break. A veggie is a veggie is a veggie. If you live near a small market, buy your produce there. The markets in my dear Queens sell yellow peppers for $.59 a pound. Know how much they are at Trader Joe's? $3.99. No brainer, yet again.

5. And finally, don't feel compelled to keep up with those around you! Money talk is never fun, so always be confident to live, ever so fabulously, within your means!

Jammin. Just Jammin

Here are ten songs--new, old and ancient--that have me tapping my foot at the moment:

1. Animal by Neon Trees. (Reminds me of driving around on Long Island this Labor Day Weekend with AC and ML, just like old times, when driving around on Long Island was not just an "en route" type of thing but something we did for literal amusement on Friday nights. We got cool later in life.)

2. Losing my Religion by REM. (It was my text message ring tone during the first semester my freshman year of college. Oh college... Oh how I miss thee.)

3. Age Six Racer by Dashboard Confessional. (We discussed this yesterday, but in summary, it's the quintessential "goodbye summer, hello there fall" tune.)

4. All I Do is Win by DJ Khalad. (Not exactly the case, but a gal can dream! And, I may or may not have jumped on my bed to this while forcing myself into "going out" mode while primping this weekend.)

5. Money Can't Buy You Class by Countess LuAnn (Just kidding... kind of. Though I do enjoy quoting the divorcee housewife's hit.)

6. Twist and Shout by the Beatles. (Reminds me of senior year of high school, where Daddy-o and I literally owned the dance floor at the father-daughter dance. No one spins like him! He rocks.)

7. Swag Surfin' by Lil Wayne. (The first rap song I learned all the words to. Not that that's something I aspire to per se, but come on! I feel accomplished.)

8. Two Princes by the Spin Doctors. (The only song to pose any fraction of competition to the Piano Man's title hit as the most played song in my iTunes, this '90s classic epitomizes why the decade of Full House and stirrup pants cannot be touched in terms of music.)

9. Every Rose Has its Thorn by Poison. (Speaking of, WHEN is Rock of Love coming back to VH1?! Not that I need any more reality TV in my life... but few shows compare to the perfection that was Bret Michaels.)

10. Come Downstairs and Say Hello by Guster (Whatever happened to Guster? It was a tie between this, Fa Fa and Barrel of a Gun. They were good.)

So Long Sweet Summer

Aside from the tights and knits and boots (oh my!) that are about to be broken out with the recent chill in the air, my favorite thing about the end of summer is an old school Dashboard Confessional song that always got me excited to ring in the new season. I haven't listened to the band in ages, but this morning, I revisited the emo rockers for nostalgia's sake, and think I forgot how great they are! Add "Age Six Racer" to your fall playlist and enjoy!

This Labor Day weekend was my best of the summer. A complete staycation of a three-day holiday, I spent it relaxing with friends and family, making me feel totally recharged! Here's a blurry mobile moment takeaway:

Taking a Walk Back a Few Decades

Last night, to celebrate [the other] KR and KW's return from grad school, BL and I joined them for another bar hopping extravaganza in the East Village. Starting our festivities at Prof. Thom's (it's becoming a favorite) and bouncing around in between, we ended up at Beauty Bar, a 14th St. beauty parlor turned bar. The charm of the salon was still there--you can even get manicures in between cocktails! Best of all, the back of the "parlor" has a very trippy dance floor, where we broke it down to Madonna classics alongside a most creative cast of characters. We looked a bit out of place amongst the crowd of spiky haired hipsters, but raged nonetheless! Beauty Bar, I'll be back.

Today, cousin MR and I are going to the Brooklyn Museum's Andy Warhol exhibit--how cultural! Stay tuned for a review.

And finally, who is rooting for GLEE during tonight's Emmy Awards? I AM!

Picnicing

Today marks my team's summer picnic at Thomson Reuters. Do not be surprised if I spend my weekend cooped up, crying about how I was fired over my inability to bring in a victory during an impromptu softball game. All in all though, I think it's going to be fun and I'm happy to have a day outside. After all that rain, some gorgeous weather is just what we need--and have!--today.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Bargain of the WEEK

My coworker RA told me about Lifebooker during a rainy day cafeteria lunch in our building this week, and it was the literal sunshine to such a dreary week. Similar to Groupon, Lifebooker offers deals on all the little extras and splurges that, for me, are the perfect way to reward yourself after a big accomplishment...or just because!

Urban Shoe Myths

For those of you fall fashionistas who are up-to-date on the September Vogue, you probably spied these awesome booties that Mr. Blahnik designed for Liberty of London. Not that a pair of Manolos are in my near future or anything, but the design of this pair of kicks was inspired by a rose. Just thought I'd share. Aren't they pretty?

Take me to Thailand

Five things that made me smile today:

1. After work, SA and I went for a walk in the rain. There's just something about walking in a downpour that's kind of relaxing and cleansing, which made for an awesome end to my day. We started in Brooklyn Heights, made our way through Cobble Hill, and ended in Carroll Gardens. We also dined at Ghang, a Thai food restaurant on Court St. that was far to cheap for our own good. Gotta love Brooklyn!

2. I'm up-to-date on both Mad Men and True Blood.

3. I dressed in a leopard dress (but a tasteful one!) to work today, and did not get any weird looks... to my knowledge, at least. I'll admit I was a little hesitant to rock so much rawr-ness in Corporate America, but with some tasteful black heals and minimal bling, I think I pulled off the excessive animal print pretty well. (Did I mention I'm obsessed with anything leopard and could not be happier that it's very "big" this fall? Not that I ever care about what's big... nothing will ever stop me from wearing leopard!)

4. It's a crisp 60 degrees out, making tonight perfect for sleeping with the windows open wide while I curl under my covers enveloped by as many blankets as I have in my palace. The more blankets on me, the better I sleep.

5. I thrifted a leopard print pencil skirt for $2.99 on eBay. $2.99!!!! That's less than the September Vogue I attempted to read on the F train this morning. (Note to self: ten-pound magazine + zooming subway car = FAIL.)

Happy Monday!

Do Not Be Deceived by My Tan.

Disclaimer: my summer has involved far less beachy keen afternoons than this photo's sunkissed deception suggests. One thing it was not lacking in, however, was midnight pizzeria trips. Honestly, is there anything better than that delicious slice you chow down on while gallivanting between destinations on a Saturday night?!

Last night, after playing socialite at 230 5th, pretending that my $15 bellini was not the wallet-killing monster that it turned out to be, SA, BL, EK, JT, LS and I did some serious hopping around the city, hightailing from the frat-infested Murray Hill to the hipster-centric East Village, where our pit stop at Artichoke provided delightful nourishment to continue the night at New York's ode to Boston, Prof. Thom's. It was an awesome night with awesome friends. :-)

And, in case anyone was wondering, I made out insanely well during my trip to Century 21 yesterday afternoon. I'm telling you, never visit the downtown destination again. The Queens location has all the same stuff--clothes, shoes, and accessories galore--and you don't have to worry about tripping over tourists! Among some other goodies, I scored my first Marc Jacobs dress, which will look absolutely ferocious when paired with some bright tights and black booties come fall!

Pop Goes the Warhol Weasel

Though its extended Thursday and Friday hours don't start until October, I'm somehow going to chisel some time into my unchiselable schedule to hightail it to the Brooklyn Museum's "Andy Warhol: The Last Decade" exhibit. Those of you who ever set foot in the most happening spot at Stonehill -- otherwise known as the senior year dorm room of yours truly -- know that JT and I dedicated an entire wall to Warhol quote posters, compliments of art.com. I had delusions of grandeur when I thought I'd actually have them all matted, framed and mounted on the wall of my current living quarters: they currently reside rolled inside a rubber band. But regardless of my decorating incapabilities, I NEED to see this exhibit before it closes on September 12th. Who's with me? It's only $8!

In other news, I've got a pretty decent weekend lined up, minus the three hours I've dedicated to dusting the domain tomorrow (Mamadukes and Aunt K, are you proud?! Someday, my maid will handle this, but for now, me and Mr. Clean are as official as a Facebook relationship). 230 5th and a lobster bake are in the works in honor of LS's return and AR's departure, respectively, making my weekend the perfect mix of rooftop sassiness and backyard comfort.

Enjoy the sunshine,
KR

Anything to Chill Out

Dumpster diving has a whole new meaning--and that's coming from someone who totally advocates finding your next big furniture treasure off the side of the road! (Just call it "antique" or "thrifted" and your guests will never know that you actually shoved the end table that's cradling their cocktail into the trunk of your car while sniping it from your neighbor's curb on bulk trash day.)

Would YOU ever go swimming in a dumpster? New Yorkers are diving to new depths (ha, I'm so FUNNY!) to catch a break from the suffocating city heat: they're diving into dumpsters, filled with chlorinated water, along avenues as prestigious as Park! I might just have to check this out, simply to say that, yes, I joined the throng of maniacal Manhattanites for a little Saturday afternoon dip in a dumpster.

Time to break out the bikini... Shield your eyes.

yipee for over the knee

Snag a pair of these babies before the rest of the fashionista nation realizes that over-the-knee boots are, in fact, fall's most gotta-have trend, and not just a footwear option for dominatrixes, Halloween costumes and NB. Aldo made me very happy while I strolled the Queen's Center Mall after my yoga class yesterday afternoon. Nicely done! They also had a great selection of lace-up oxford heels... but that's for the next paycheck!