Archive for May, 2009

going home.

Lately, in moving up to New York, I have been doing a lot of schlepping between Philly and the Big Apple. It’s a process I have been doing for a bit now, but, sadly, it will soon come to an end, and I will no longer be able to say “I’m going home.”

I just want everyone I love from Philly to know: You can take the Eagles fan out of the city of Philadelphia, but you cannot make her a Giants fan in New York.

That is a promise.

This weekend I am back in Philly for one of the last times, spending some quality time with the city I love so much. (And, sadly, a bunch of boxes.)

This bittersweet realization made me think of one of my favorites scenes from Almost Famous, and it’s one I know everyone can appreciate.

I don’t care what anyone says – I love you, Philly. 


Happy Friday, party people.


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I will say, for starters, that yes, I know – it’s been forever since my last post. I apologize. Life has gotten in the way. And in return, you might be hoping for some funny, witty post from yours truly as some sort of retribution for my lengthy period of silence.

Well, I am here to let you know that this won’t be happening.

WHY? You can thank Michael Vick for that one.


Ever since hearing of his release back into the real world today, to which I really have nothing good to say, I found it absolutely ridiculous that he might possibly be teaming up with the Humane Society to speak out against dogfighting.


First off, this is garbage. If ANYONE else had done what Vick had done, they would be 1) Serving a much longer sentence; and 2) Being laughed at for even thinking they could team up with the Humane Society.

But here, that is not the case. Vick, who did unimaginable and unthinkable things to poor, defenseless dogs, will now be an advocate for their rights, simply because he is a celebrity.

I’m sorry, but am I the only one who thinks this is beyond wrong? Not just as someone who advocates for animals rights, but as an intelligent person (we hope) with common sense?

The only reason he is even doing this is because his publicist knew he needed to do something newsworthy to get back into the NFL – thanks to the ever lovely Roger Goodell. Yes, boys and girls, the NFL Commissioner has made it clear that Vick can be reinstated, so long as he demonstrates a “genuine remorse”. Okay, Rog. Because people who do what Vick did are obviously really, really sorry about it after the fact.

And, with that being stated, I would like to end this post on a bright note – and what note isn’t bright when it includes a picture of a puppy?


Happy Wednesday, party people.

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For those of you that don’t already know this, I need to make this disclaimer: I am a HUGE Eagles fan.

Recently, as I have been rummaging through craigslist ads for the next chapter in the life of KB (you can get those on craigslist, right?) it has become more clear than ever just how ridiculous people truly are. And when I brought this discussion up with others, such as Cotter, I learned that this phenomenon of outrageousness had found itself in my backyard: Eagles fandom.


Well, where to begin, really? There are so many entry points on this one.

Frankly, besides the bad grammar, the inability to take a picture that includes his mug (conveniently, we ponder?), and his general redundancy of the words “whatever” and “wherever”, lies the REAL question: What is this dollar?

No, seriously.

Is this the value of the seats? That’s not okay.

Does it mean that when you “meet me whereveer and pick me up or meet me where ever I want” I have to awkwardly introduce myself with a handshake that includes a folded up george washington? Also not okay. I’m not smooth enough to pull off the handoff. It’s awkward and outdated.

Do I have to try and buy something for the value of a dollar at the game? Because, having a few of those under my belt (with NO help from craigslist, nonetheless), I know that task to be impossible first hand. Everything usually costs your first born at Eagles games.

But, there is also the possibility that I am reading into this all wrong.

Could it be that you are supplying me tickets to an eagles game, giving me a free ride, and then giving me a dollar bill to top it off? To, which, really all one can wonder is: Does this include beers during the game?

Because, frankly, if that’s the case, I guess as you can really say, as a true Eagles fan is.. sign me up.. hottie.

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making mom proud.

So, my mother’s day gift to a woman who I cannot spend the day with: a parade of photography.

Mom, the life lessons you constantly tried to instill in us have not gone by ignored. In fact, they are being practiced by yours truly, on a daily basis. Since you’re in Florida with the rest of the Brennan children, and are always concerned that I am not being the pristine child you raised, I figured the least I could do on this blessed holiday was demonstrate that I am, in fact, carrying out your wishes.

A picture is worth a thousand words, right? 

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. 

The 10 Commandments: Life lessons, taught to me by my mother.


Always strive to be your best. Yes, mom – somehow, I was maid of honor. 



Lip balm is a life essential. (So is making an ass out of yourself.) 



Always remain professional in the work environment. (Technically, we were outside.)


n53000422_30702404_9223Choose friends that bring out the best in you. Even if that trait is inappropriateness. 



Celebrate your victories modestly. 



Make sure you always have good friends to lean on.



Always have others to look up to. Even if it is simply to sing to them. 



Laugh loudly. (And with drinks).



Dance like no one is watching. Unfortunately, for me, they are. 




Stop to smell the roses. Even if it slows everyone else down.


Here’s to making mom proud (we hope). And to learning, someday, how to take a picture that cannot be used later as blackmail. 

Love you, mom. Hope you still love me, too. 

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I wish that title wasn’t true. Despite all the topics I could comment on today, and there are a few gems, I find myself at a loss for words.

Or, in all fairness, words you guys would actually enjoy reading.

Due to a splitting headache, and what I can only describe as excruciating knee pain, I have decided to forgo blogging today.

I will resume regularly scheduled blogging tomorrow.


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24. If you don’t watch it, you know of it. Love it or hate it, the name Jack Bauer is one we all know.


So I’m sitting here, drinking my Brooklyn Lager, much like Jack would do (WWJD?) and figured, even if I am one of five girls who watches this show, I’m going to come out with it. Publicly. On my blog. That means, for the five of you who read this and aren’t related to me, I am confessing something I’m not even ashamed of. Talk about balls!

But I have to wonder, where DO the writers come up with this stuff? Being a creative writer myself, I would hope to have half of the good ideas they come up with every season. Unfortunately, I’m the girl sitting at home, drinking a lager at 9 pm on a Monday, blogging about it instead. Can’t win em all, KB.

Also, on a semi-related side note, since when did being an actress suddenly make you a jewelry designer? (Short answer: it doesn’t). Kay has recently decided that Jane Seymour is now the cat’s pajamas, to which, I investigated the results of this decision out of morbid curiosity, as I’ve seen 2 commercials for this nonsense in the hour segment.


Wow. 330 bones for this gem? I think not! Stick to the medicine, Dr. Quinn.

Anyways, back to the subject at hand. 

We only have 3 hours left in this season of 24! Can’t believe it. As Jack is signed up for season 8, we know they have to squeeze in saving his life (no bigs) somewhere along the line. But beyond that, you got me. 

So, fellow 24 fans, I have to know: how do you think this season will end!?

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Mullets went out with a bang in the nineties. (And with good reason). Why are fashion designers suddenly trying to bring them back? 

Is the economy so bad we can’t afford those full-length gowns anymore? 



Like this. Really? Don’t get me wrong – I love Beyonce, but what IS this? When the train of your dress has more coverage than your dress in its entirety, you can pretty much chalk that outfit up to a loss. In my most humble opinion, of course.

I do have to say, with her mom Tina Knowles as her stylist, she usually does a bang up job of looking effortlessly stunning. But I’m not sure I really agree with this latest decision, Tina. You know better. My mother would never let me leave the house like that, and she’s a far cry from a stylist.

In mom’s defense, I should also point out that I’m an ever farther cry from Beyonce. So there’s that.

Thanks to Balmain, I did manage to find one mullet dress in this crazy trainwreck of a trend that I enjoy. Something about the lines and the texture of this dress that make me absolutely love it. Hell, I might even wear it. 


Okay, scratch that. If somehow, by the grace of God, I could own this dress, I would probably wear it once a week. Let’s be honest here. Hope the sandals come with. 

Despite Balmain somehow making the trend work with this dress, I sincerely hope this whole fad disappears as quickly as it surfaced.

And if I ever, EVER see a dress remnant of the flock of seagulls disaster, I’m calling it quits. 

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