Archive for September, 2007

Socialites

Jenelle and I have secretly (ok, not so secretly really) had the dream of being photographed for the social pages of this ridiculous local publication called Splurge!  Yeah, it’s called Splurge!  With an exclamation point and everything.  Nonetheless, the fine magazine has since gone belly up and our dreams subsequently shattered.  But we still hope to grace the social pages somewhere.

So it should come as no surprise that we aspiring socialites attended an American Cancer Society benefit earlier this year (complete with silent auction, awful Brighton and Kathy Van Zeland – aka “that Kathy bitch” as I once mistakenly called her in a serious discussion with Jill about quality handbags – purses all over the room and some of the biggest hair in Wichita).  The best part of that event was that Jenelle won a makeover package at a local salon.  And the margaritas out of a giant cooler.  And did I mention that we talked shop with Kayne Gillespie of Project Runway fame?  Yeah, we know how to do it up here in the ‘Ta.

Then this week I happened upon two free tickets to the preview party for the Junior League of Wichita’s Holiday Galleria.  Which, obviously, is like the cream of the crop of Wichita Socialites.  So it should come as no surprise that Jenelle and I were there with bells on.  And have I ever been one to turn down free champagne and hors d’ouvers?  Absolutely never.

The highlight of the evening was Jenelle, who was full of comedic delight.  As I was browsing a silent auction table a little longer than she would have liked, she said, “Hurry up, bitch.”  I looked at her in shock.  “We’re Paris and Nicole tonight, remember?” she reminded me.  I just about died laughing.  There was also the woman who sat at a table with us and didn’t waste time to lean over and mention with great sincerity that her husband was on the city council.  And then there was the chair massage that I took full advantage of, no matter how unladylike it looks to be straddling a weird massage chair when trying to win your way into the hearts of Wichita’s elite.  And then there were the coupons – oh the coupons! – because no matter how much of a socialite you are, you can always use 20% off at the local beauty boutique.

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Yay!

Sex and the City – the movie(!) has begun filming in (where else?) New York City.

I am ecstatic.  This brings me back to the semi-ghetto Rancho Cordova apartment that Martine and I shared with our psychopath, gun-toting roommate and sorority sister, Oriana.  Thankfully, the crazy biotch would go out of town on the weekends and Martine and I would have SATC marathons and eat take-out Chinese food because it made us feel more “New York.”  For a long time we were committed to finding a man like Aidan because, well, any man that will sand your hardwood floors is a man worth keeping.

Ugh

I’m sick.  Like barfing and fever and some other unpleasant stuff.

I have no idea if it’s food poisoning or the flu, but you can be damn sure that I won’t be eating at Johnny Carino’s ever again.  No more soup and salad lunches for me, thankyouverymuch.

Bad Idea

I sooooo should know better than to a) take a nap at 6 pm and then b) make myself a triple iced latte (nonfat, two Splendas) at 10 pm.

I am never going to bed.

This is just depressing

When I saw that this week’s Friday blogthing, courtesy of emawkc, was a quiz that determines how California you are, I was thrilled. I mean, HELLO, I am a California girl in Kansas, remember? This quiz was MADE for me.

Only my enthusiasm quickly turned to mild depression when I got the results back:


You Are 48% California


You’re fairly Californian. Unless you’re really from California, you should be stoked!

Only 48%?

Clearly Wichita’s low cost of living, lack of traffic and serious lack of fruitcakes and general crazies has lessened the amount of California in me. This saddens me greatly. People in Wichita don’t order their lattes at specifically 118 degrees (the dude in front of me at Starbucks in the 90212 did this) and the nearest In-N-Out Burger is over a thousand miles away. How can I maintain my Californiosity like this? Hmpf.

Yo, yo, yo…

I’m back.

I feel like I have a million things to tell you all, but I don’t really know where to start.

Let’s begin with DC.  It was pretty good.  Aside from the conference, there was a lot of R&R.  Plus, Camille and I hit the International Spy Museum, which was basically the most amazing thing ever.  Turns out that I would make one helluva spy based on my keen instincts and sharp memory.  At least that’s what the little computerized quizzes at the museum indicated.  I’m not joking when I tell you that I went back to my hotel room and went straight to the CIA website to find out what it takes to be a secret operative.

Possibly the most incredible part of the trip was this:

Protest

I spent one afternoon wandering the Washington Mall and stumbled upon a pro-war rally.  After grabbing a bit to eat, I walked straight into THIS – a huge anti-war march that spread from the White House to the Capitol.  I parked myself on a ledge and snapped picture after picture with my Blackberry.  I’d like to add that Santa is apparently opposed to the war in Iraq as well.

I also enjoyed three Smithsonians (Air & Space, American Art, Modern Art), Sushi, a street art fair, margaritas at this sort of crappy Mexican place in Crystal City that happened to be underneath my hotel and therefore was amazingly convenient, and many bowls of crab and corn chowder.  Delish.

Back in Wichita, I hosted this month’s Bunco night.  I made the cutest cupcakes ever (that’s real buttercream frosting and fresh raspberries on top).  The Martha Stewart in me was proud.

Cupcakes

Last night, Linda B. and I went with My Cool Boss to our intern’s football game.  It was so fun.  I was proud of him – he was tough.  He’s a lineman and I kept cheering everytime he knocked someone down.

And now it’s back to normalcy for awhile… or a week and a half.  Then I’ll be back in California for Katie’s wedding and a reunion with Martine and family time.

I’ve SOOO Got the Right Stuff

Yesterday, Erin posted about being a party starter.  I have a party starting story for y’all too – but first you must get a little background…

So back in the day (roughly 1989-1991), I was like the number one New Kids on the Block fan (yeah, you might think you were number one, but I’m sorry to break it to you – I was).  I LOOOOVED them.  I loved me some Joey Joe (who was born on December 31st, was one of eight children and grew up in an area of Boston called Jamaica Plain… also, he loves Mexican food) and Jordan and Donnie and Danny and Jon, who later went on to a fruitful career in real estate and, as you may recall, had a Shar Pei named Nikko that he took on tour with them.  I know – I’m so outta control with the NKOTB trivia (most of which can be attributed to the riveting literary classic New Kids on the Block – Their Lives and Loves by Grace Catalano). 

My New Kids love had an odd resurgence in eighth grade when I decided that they should be the object of my affection once again.  So I busted out my NKOTB scrapbook and old issues of Bop and Tiger Beat and my New Kids pillow and towel and water bottle and all of their home videos.  I even started listening to their tapes (yeah – TAPES) on constant rotation.  And then, as though I had some sort of cosmic connection with those cuties from Beantown, they attempted a comeback, like, a month later.  I KID YOU NOT!  You may recall their comeback single – “Dirty Dawg.”  So I was pretty clearly established at this point as their number one fan.  They came to San Francisco to play at the Trucadero for their comeback tour.  Jon was curiously absent.  Possibly closing escrow on one of his properties.  But I was there.  It was standing room only and my mom and my friend Amy and I were so close that we could have possibly been sweated on.  Girls were crying and fainting and being carried out of the place by big security guys.  It was amazing.

But life goes on and so did the nineties and the boy band was replaced by grunge and alternative and NKOTB was all but forgotten by me. 

Until senior year. 

Continue reading ‘I’ve SOOO Got the Right Stuff’