Tag Archives: ramblings

summer reads, just add water;

oyeyey{oh, woops! well, howdy there. as it is always doing, life had to be lived and summertime means laptop-thigh-sweat started happening. you know how that goes. we’ll just let my little absence slide, right? i thank you kindly. as a bartering tool, here’s one of my favorite things to put up on this little space.}

some of you might be wondering why i am in new york this summer. and most of you aren’t which is okay, because there are plenty of other things to wonder about like where to get a doris day tattoo {foot + ankle, all the way}, or what brand of tj’s hummus to get {white bean, guys}, or which corgi on reddit is the cutest {all of them. just all of them}

meanwhile, back at the ranch, i’m here doing the all-too-familiar grind of interning. which is great! i love that grind, especially when the intern in question involves something i didn’t even know people could do as a job.

kind of like when you realize that people train bears for movies. or everything tina fey manages to do. and the olympic sport of curling. but i digress. i’m interning at a fancy-schmance film studio in their literary department. “what does that mean, mackenzie?” you might ask, but probably aren’t. well, friends, that means i read not-published-yet manuscripts, book proposals, all the newspapers ever, and movie websites and comb it for any little nugget of adaptation news or books that could possibly be adapted into movies for aforementioned fancy studio.

usually the combing results in a lot of this. regardless, the combing is mega-fun. my life is essentially the devil wears prada {one of the movies the fancy-schmance studio has distributed *wink*}

except i work with a bunch of dudes and they don’t care that most of my outfits involve bike shorts of some sort. i also haven’t had to rush into oncoming traffic for the never-before-seen copy of harry potter book #8. at least, not yet.
…and also the internship means exposure to all of these books i think ya’ll would love.

*read:
where’d you go bernadette by maria semple {i know this is everywhere, but rightly so}
just kids by patti smith
how to be a woman by caitlin moran (life.changing. ya’ll.)
kiss me like a stranger by gene wilder
swamplandia! by karen russell
wild by cheryl strayed {don’t read the first 50 pages in a public place. you will want to cry and call your mom or both at the same time. one of those ugly-snot tears.}

*currently reading:
even cowgirls get the blues by tom robbins {for the mental livelihood of all girls-at-heart}

*to read:
the group by mary mccarthy
what she saw…:a novel by lucinda rosenfeld {can’t find this anywhere. what is this nonsense?} mr. penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore by robin sloan
someday, someday, maybe by lauren graham  {lorelai gilmore ftw}
vampires in the lemon grove by karen russell
my year with eleanor  by noelle hancock
the astronaut wive’s club
by lily koppel
the yonahlossee riding camp for girls by anton disclafani
high fidelity by nick hornby {or rather, finish reading it}

*internship reads {top secret, except not really, but i like to tell myself that}:
-neat YA novel about a 17 year-old girl spy in WWI-era england {loved it! can’t wait for it to publish}
-a new david levithan {!}
-some mega-bad british sci-fi.{like really bad, guys. weird short stories about sexual tension between androids is just awk.}
-romantic memoir about a romance editor, i.e. the dudes in the office didn’t want to read it.
-a new sarah dessen{!!!}

what have you read lately and loved {or hated!} ?

being one with nature &etc;

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{prospect park}

it may not be obvious, but i’m a big fan of dirt.
i really dig the stuff {hyuk-hyuk. see what i did there?} hiking in new hampshire and massachusetts has been one of my new loves since moving to the northeast, behind the burritos at boloco, petting strangers dogs outside the library, and pretending not to have pet a stranger dog after it ferociously barks at me. it wasn’t me, i swear.

i am also one of those people that doesn’t really enjoy going to the gym to feel worked out. i actually kind of hate it. people are too clean at the gym. and also, that freakish breed of women exists there.

you know the ones; the ones with a sephora-employee-level of “smokey eye” on their eyes? i’m sorry, ya’ll, but you should not be trying to rock major eye definition while working on your calf definition. just my #twocents.

just bask in your dirtiness for once, is what i have to say. that’s the one way i feel successful, is with the amount of dirt in between my toes. post-hike shoe removal? sigh. end-of-beach-day griminess? the best. the resulting shower? i could cry at the thought.  it’s a good benchmark, i think. which is why i’ve been trying to romp in new york city parks all the more often like i’m a wild shetland pony or something.

who knew i’d find myself at my delightful dirtiest in new york? the parks of new york have been the background of all my daily, sweat-filled walks, where i pretend the cars rushing on the roads above me are just ocean waves picking up speed.

in this city full of grown women wearing freshly-pressed gaucho pants and fitted blazers, i’m more the type of person that realizes at 4p.m. that she has a peanut butter stain on the crotch of her $5 pencil skirt. and thats exactly how i like it, and exactly how i think i’ll keep it.

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{fort tryon park + the cloisters}

things that make me so happy i could vomit;

summerrrr

oh! hey there. is anybody home? my bad, ya’ll.
it’s been a whirlwind couple of weeks and i’m lucky if i even remember deodorant most days.
now let’s cut the crap.

ever see that one episode of 30 rock? the one where jack watches a home video of one of his childhood birthdays and sees that he once vomited from a birthday present, that launches his quest to find out what could make him so happy he could vomit?

{no? that’s sad. you’re missing out on weeks of yelling “apollllooooo apollllooooo” to no one in particular.}

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30 rock moments aside, as you can tell, i’m of a weird breed. i get homesick while i’m in neat cities. i make playlists themed to fall-times when it’s the dead of summer {and had stared at my bathing suit all winter in longing}. i miss my dogs when my hand-holding cat is on my lap. all these things should make me vomit from happiness.

i suffer from grass-is-always-greener disorder.
sometime i just glaze over all of the really small and remarkable moments in my week.
like the following:

*reading hillary clinton’s twitter bio: “Wife, mom, lawyer, women & kids advocate, FLOAR, FLOTUS, US Senator, SecState, author, dog owner, hair icon, pantsuit aficionado, glass ceiling cracker, TBD…”
{and just her twitter in general. SHE TAKES SELFIES, YA’LL.}

*this list of thrilling, happy things to do this summer 

*this stevie nicks interview !! (she is woman hear her roar &etc.)


*the ice cream i had last night at ample hills creamery (peppermint pattie + cookies au lait. all the happy tears)

*the book i’m currently reading. i think it’s required reading for all who are  little girls at heart.

*i got to work a movie premiere last night{!!!!}{i didn’t see anyone famous from my will-call table, but i saw sandy bullock’s arm muscles and got cecily strong’s tickets for her publicist #littlevictories}

*my weekly fort tryon hikes. and seeing the stuart little boats. and all things, everything outside ever.

*$4 chinatown toads in buckets. plain and simple.

*rowing in central park.
{and how when we saw james taylor perform, we thought he was a wiggle. woops.}

*babysitting the coolest 9-year-old at a carnival.
{sno-cones! swings! magic shows! shout out @ veronica}

*swing dancing outside.
{dancing with strangers will never stop giving me that nice little happy jolt.}

{how about you?}

{ta-da! list} that time we walked the brooklyn bridge;

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that time we walked across the brooklyn bridge was the day we wore our feet down to little feet sausages with poor shoe-choices.{brogues and bright green pointy flats with rainbow sequins can do that to you.}

that time we walked across the brooklyn bridge was also the night we realized cash-only ice cream places are for-real.{and they are heartbreakers.}

that time we walked across the brooklyn bridge was when i realized that homesickness for boston and florida doesn’t have to make me feel sad, but more so lucky to have two homes i miss that much. {and also puppies. oh, and boloco. let’s be honest}

that time we walked across the bridge was the night we realized $1 vanilla cones at mcdonald’s can be bought with dimes, too. as long as you don’t have shame.{and as long as you have your regular mcdonald’s guys being heavy handed with their swirling.}

that time we walked across the brooklyn bridge was when i realized strapless bras aren’t for fancy balls and proms.{that ish is for everyday. no straps= no problems.}

that time we walked across the brooklyn bridge i realized i am blind as a bat. big glasses forever*~ sally jesse rafael-style, ya’ll.

#classicbrooklyn outfit rounded out by a manfriend shirt. where’s my owl-embroidered tote bag? my straight bangs? feather extensions? it’s like i thought it was halloween or something.

seeing things clearly and un-blobby is underrated.
…especially bridges at night like this beaut.

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things you learn at twenty-two {so far};

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1. relationships and friendships should never be kept alive based solely on how  you both really love paul simon’s album graceland. get a grip; everyone dug graceland, everyone will always love graceland, and anyone who doesn’t love graceland is a robot at the core.  this means once they take a big dump on your heart/ question you buying that one denim skirt with patchwork and tassles that you love because it’s so ugly it’s cute, they should not get immunity because “boy in the bubble” is their jam.
 

i know, it’s a great album. and it’s hard. i know. but they refused to step on your back that one time you really needed your back cracked/ they ate a loaf of your bread without replacing it/they told you you smelled like a dog once, and that’s not a true friend.

 

2. most things can be resolved with watermelon.israeli-palestinian conflict? give those dudes some watermelon. people hating on gay marriage? sounds like they need some fresh, juicy watermelon to cool those hot heads down.

 

3. the only way to walk your dogs is by imagining you are in homeward bound. except not the sad parts. you can imagine the cat-running-from-a-mountain-lion parts, but not the injured-golden-retriever-in-a-ditch-in-an-abandoned-railroad parts.

 

4. navy and bright orange totally go together. eff the haters.

 

5. putting every little, tiny milestone in your life on facebook is reeeeeally annoying to most people around you and i’m not sure you want everyone to know for genuine reasons. i’m glad you got an internship/passed a kidney stone/your baby stopped barfing, but i know you’re just hurting for some likes. be silently content with the lack of baby vomit in your life by yourself. it’s a much cuter look, i think.

 

6.  just because you have four “$4 off your next $20 purchase at cvs!!!!!” coupons does not mean you should spend all of them on orange coconut waters and expired 50% off easter candy.and apricot face wipes. and little flossers that you might have bought because they look like violin bows for kittens.

 

7. princess diaries was meant to be watched twice in one day. that’s the serving size.  dont deprive yourself of this pleasure.

 

8.you really only need one to three good friends. these can include your mom, your dog who has a habit of finding old condoms on walks to the sketchy park where high schoolers go after dark, and your cat that likes to hold hands more than most things. it can also include the cvs man who calls you “sweetheart”. whatever.

 

9. science museums are much, much, much more fun than ragers.


 

10. you’re twenty-two and you still don’t know how to make a bread bowl? what a waste. you could be eating your dishes by now. maybe by twenty-three you’ll know.

sunnin’ the limbs, a playlist;

IMG_4728{click image for spotify playlist. click here for youtube playlist}

 

i think summer playlists are a wonderful thing. the most special of all playlists.

as a former theme park employee who worked in a section of the park where it was always july 4th, 1976 year-round {i.e. working the carnival games outside of the “jaws” ride. no lie.} i know what a typical summer playlist looks like. i did over 18 times a day.

after 9 months of working whac-a-mole i lost the ability to stop myself from twitching when “jeremiah was a bullfrog” blasted over the theme park speakers. i danced with too many scooby-doo toys to pass the time to that songs in a crusty old ring toss game.

i have to physically leave trader joe’s if “good vibrations” is playing. that shit starts up my theme-park-induced ptsd.

that was my 9 months of talking to stuffed animal toys, telling grown men that no, they could not have that stuffed animal patrick the starfish toy because it cost more than their tommy bahama shorts, and having brazilian tour groups accidentally hit me with tennis balls, wiffle balls, and guns with yes, more balls attached to them.

 

i got hit with balls a lot, ya’ll.

and yes, i know how to say “balls” in more languages than i really expected to.

now that i am out of the theme park trenches, i know how a playlist of summer jams can either get you pumped up to get rid of your translucent white legs {like mine look when i put sunscreen on in the beginning of may. whoops.}

or how it can make your left eye twitch or cause people to think you just had a stroke.

 

we’re gonna go with the former route. sound good? i thought so.

my city office {grounded};

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{this summer i’m actually going to tackle all of those things i’ve been meaning to edit, hash out, create, whatever.
i work best with sputtering espresso machines and listening in on conversations between people that met via craigslist.
and my collection of offices in boston is pretty varied and i’ve loved pretending to type things in them these last two years.
this is a new feature that is part-productivity, part-portrait of these places i call my city offices.}

 

location: grounded @ 28 jane street in the west village, nyc.

imbibed and consumed: moroccan mint iced tea + grilled cheese and tomato sandwich. and natural sunlight {yay!}

{all of the multigrain seeds ended up in my keyboard and i regret nothing.}

conversations heard: some estonian chatter behind me, but nothing too juicy.

{that was saved for mother-daughter text messages. }

 

things worked on:

1. mega bus return ticket to boston….for 1.5 hours {internet was as slow as was my brain after ~24 hours of travel}.

2. at least twenty sassy text messages to my mother commenting on how a girl i grew up with stole my mom’s co-worker’s boyfriend.

{follow that?}

topics also covered:

hooters tank tops,

$1200 trips to the dentist {more on this later}

and my dachshund considering doggy suicide. the usual.

3. things blocked on all browsers? facebook. twitter. pinterest. also known as the bermuda triangle of lost time. i used to block these on google chrome, but found i would sneak onto safari to do my surfing thinking it “didn’t count”. now it all counts.

i am productivity, hear me roar &etc.

4. finishing up one of the books in a long string of bus-ride reading this week.

 

things not worked on:


editing 200+ pages of short stories. editing is scary, ya’ll. today’s excuse? “i work better when things are printed out!!!!” you win again, subconscious. printing out 200 pages of awkward non-fiction stories, it is.

 

i also spent too much time giggling over the cute wifi log-in name “you’re grounded.”

i am too easily distracted. and amused.  it happens.

 

{what helps you stay productive? i’m sort of a nerd for being a nerd, if you couldn’t already tell}

mother-lover;

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my mother is a well-loved lady. when i was little i was always so startled by how many people would stop her in the grocery store, and told myself if half as many people stopped me in the grocery store to talk to me, i’d be content. ’cause then i’d be technically half as cool as my mom. achievable goals, ya’ll.

she’s a sassy little lady. and the source of 80% of my brother and i’s jokes. recently the forces of my older brother and mother collided with boston. hilarity ensued mostly because we all can drink and my mom has a habit of thinking of the worst {but best} business ventures and ideas for projects ever. some include the following:

1. glow-in-the-dark toilet seats for pregnant women when they have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
2. a party favor business called “do me a favor”
3. the new pope should’ve come out on the balcony and proclaimed, “what up, bitches”.

on our weekend of borderline infamy, my brother said the following to my mother:
1. “it’s like you want to get smacked, mom.”
2.”dont be a dummy.”
3. “if i wrote where the red fern grows, you would have been the gross bad guy that killed one of my dogs.”
{and five minutes later}
4.”…i just realized you killed my dog.”
5.”is {what you’re about to say} actually funny or is it ‘i laughed in swingblade’-funny?”

what this all translates to, is “i love you, mommy.” my mom is just another perfect piece to the crooked, weird puzzle that is somehow depicting the 100 piece set of chubby pugs in a red wheelbarrow that all puzzle companies seem to have, that i call my family. i think she’d be the crafty, chubby pug, giving personal advice to the pope about her new patented glow-in-the-dark toilet seats in the back.

but that’s just me.

blog is getting a juice cleanse;

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hey ya’ll.

if you couldn’t tell already, this blog has been needing some serious r&r.

it needs a face lift of sorts. maybe a tummy tuck. maybe a juice cleanse. who knows, but i’ve been thinking about doing it for months.

inspired by my dear friend jenna’s recent blog overhaul, i realized i can re-brand this space as much as i want. whenever i want. often i’d think i had something to “owe” to someone, but that’s a bunch of baloney. and uber self-righteous. and i’m not down with that.

—-

 

if anything, i feel like i’ve outgrown this little space like an old, dried out cocoon. or one of those shells that $5-side-of-the-road hermit crabs live in.

 

in a way, i feel like i’ve outgrown “personal” blogging. “lifestyle” blogging. whatever you call it, i can’t seem to get a handle of it.

in short, i’m not very good at lifestyle blogging, because i’m not very good at lying or fabricating perfection out of my normal days. which, in their own ways, are perfect to me, but odd or dysfunctional seeming to the outside world.

i’d rather tell stories about how i once made two dogs so excited they peed themselves at the same time. or how i dated a guy who ended up dumping me because he thought he was allergic to me. or how i made the most horrible cake ever. or how i dropped out of college once. or met swedes in san francisco hostels. that’s the stuff i thrive off of; those are the stories i want to tell.

—-

in short, my life doesn’t look like a j.crew catalogue, and it’s all too easy to make your blog life look like that, i know. and i’m feeling the need to step away from that sort of world. or at least back off for a bit.

i’m also too private for that. you know how people in the olden days say photographs steal your soul or something? i feel like blogging about various experiences that i treasure so much would make them less of my own memories and more of something that people could critique or strive to have happen in their own lives.

and guys, i don’t want any of you to strive to emulate any one else’s lives. whether it’s the stationery they use. or the pug they have. or the damn duvet cover they have. i feel like it’s very easy to fall down the rabbit hole of self-perfection. and i think i have the responsibility of presenting reality to you all.

with that said, i’m taking the next few weeks to create a new space that will not only be a good place for me to share things in, and i hope you all stick around for it.