Dungeon Master

Boom

[Click]

Edited to make some kind of sense.

Nothing But the Finest Pigments

Remember when I said I'd clue the public in on my red hair?

Ah. Yes.

I wanted a leeetle change, but nothing permanent. My salon (the ridiculously amazing Parlour in Greenpoint) had always used Davines Finest Pigments on my hair to make it shiner and blonder. When I mentioned going red, my stylist suggested ramping up the color with the same product. [Caution: GPOYPhotoboothing, dead ahead]

Hookay. Let's do it, I say. It smells good.

After about 30 minutes and several peeks from my stylist (I won't say nervous peeks, but it was pretty obvious I was a ginge guinea pig), we got this:

W000! Shiny shiny red! Then I washed it once.

Whomp whomp. It lost all shine and got mostly brown. S'ok, it eventually turned to this:

And then it didn't go away. So I went back to normal. Er, hair speaking.

(Bottle from here)

Merci Merci

I'd like to thank Google Chrome for trying to translate an online placement test. For a French class.

Servicey.

Zut alors hon hon hon.

A Blackberry a Day

At any one time during the day, I'm about 75% likely to look like I'm coming off the wrong side of a bender. How many tights must I ruin before the carnage can end?

And, because Twitter hates me and doesn't want the world to see what I eat, here's what I had for 14 juillet dinner last night. Baguette from Radish, cheese and salami from Bedford Cheese Shop. Cheese knives came out to play. Wine was consumed. Bastille was Day'd.

My next move: stop using my Blackberry camera to record images. It makes everything look like I'm taking picture through a humid fog. Plus I have like, real cameras. And stuff.

Don't Mind Me

I think we can all agree that Air France missed a terrific opportunity to pun, non?

Basque in the celebrations? Due to proximity to France?

I'll just leave that here.

Too Hot To Function

More image searching today, which led me to this.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE CAN I GO ON AN AUTUMN PICNIC AND WEAR FANCY CUTE BOOTS IN WHAT IS TOTALLY AN ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE?

This is just salt in my heat bestrokèd wound, as far as I'm concerned.

There Goes The Neighborhood

So there I was on the couch: feet up, pantless (as one is wont to do in one's own home when it's roughly the temperature of a preheating oven outside), hair in a braid to let the Lush sink in while I attempt to not-so-slowly bring my hair back to blonde, Morning Benders sliiightly... er...blaring, shall we say, when--

My across-the-street neighbor

(The one who lives across the street)

LEANED OUT OF HER WINDOW and sort of... hissed at me.




I'll let that sink in for a second.



Right?

My first response was... waa? No. I must be imagining things. Did the peripheral eye sweep, straightened up and pulled my shirt down a little bit.

Hiss.

Yep. Definitely someone hissing at me.

In one smooth move, I ducked around the open curtains-- while shimmying my shirt down further-- and did the fastest, fakest-ever nonchalant saunter/run for the bathroom. I managed to creep back once I composed myself. Closed the curtains.

I have no idea what that lady wanted. She looked actually pleasant, for someone being creepy and trying to get my attention from across a street. Maybe she wanted to chat? What if she's always had this longing to string up tin cans and gossip about the other weirdo neighbors. (Like the lady who sent me a hand-written, STAMPED note about how I was a horrible person for accidentally putting my trash in front of her gate.) We could be pals! Chums! I'd borrow sugar from her and she'd pick up my mail when I'd go out of town! Neighbors! Sisterhood!

Meh. She probably wanted me to turn down the music.

Aaaand lesson learned: curtains stay CLOSED.

This Is My Sad Face

Cheer up, moddle! You don't look that dumb.

Oh. I guess you do look kinda dumb. Well.

Spam Spam Glorious Spam

Me: [click]

Let's see here...

Eh. I'm good. Thanks though.

Little Known Things About Katie

In honor of my esteemed colleague and sometime friend's birthday, I sent out this company-wide email.

Little Known Things About Katie:

When the moon is full, she transforms into a fully functional killing machine human/bear hybrid known as the Bearataur.

Can make more convincing and realistic Sandpeople noises than the majority of actual Sand People.

Yearns to return to her pre-Firstborn aquatic life; soon, she will once again swim amongst her sister merpeople in the murky waters surrounding Boston.

Is evil.


Of course, someone else had to show me up with this:

I lay my sword down at your feet, Ryan.

There Goes the Neighborhood, Updated

Oh crikey.

Looks like people are already up in arms about the slight Duane Reade Williamsburg invasion I talked about recently.

Two Facebook groups already:
Boycott Duane Reade in Williamsburg
and
I'm Boycotting the Bedford Ave. Duane Reade/Walgreens

Three and it's a trend.

There Goes the Neighborhood

On the way to do my laundry last Saturday, I wandered past one of the various half-completed steel-and-glass condo buildings going up on Bedford. But wait-- a development. For the first time, it looked... sort of almost done. And there was a big old shiny sign hanging over the lintel; apparently, there's a Duane Reade going in.

Aha! I thought. So.

King's Pharmacy, which is a Williamsburg staple, lies directly (literally) across the street from the future site of bad customer service and jarringly sharp overhead lighting. There also happens to be another new Duane Reade a few blocks away on Kent, squatting in one of the huge condo buildings that will be forever destined for actual squatters and I-Banking rich people who live there.

It went up this summer amidst great fanfare and free water handouts during the Pool Parties. King's has had "keep local business alive" signs hanging since then. I just assumed they were leftovers from the Kent Ave store opening. No one told me there'd be another addition to the neighborhood, and so soon.

Here's my dilemma: at the risk of sounding Brooklyn, let's keep business local.* I wouldn't choose Starbucks over a Fabiane's coffee, for example. I get my stupidly overpriced foreign magazines from bodegas on Bedford instead of Barnes and Noble.

(*I do, however, occasionally patronize my local Subway on weekends. Sometimes I'm too tired/gross to brave a crammed lunch place.)

HOWEVER. King's Pharmacy... kind of sucks.

They never have what I need. My typical drugstore shopping trip: I go to King's, truck down the same aisles a few times because the layout is confusing, not find what I came there to buy, and then walk to the Duane Reade. I'm nostalgic for local business, but come on: if King's doesn't have the lotion I want, then I flip the realist switch and just go to fucking Duane Reade.

But will a new store brazenly stealing local business change my mind? Maybe I should just put up with sullen service (yes, EVEN worse than Duane Reade service, if you can imagine that) and poor stockage practices. Look on the bright side, me-- the King's playlist always sprinkles in a few gems. They play The Smiths on rainy days! That's got to mean something!

Most importantly: will I be shot on sight as I attempt to enter the new Bedford Ave Duane Reade? I am guessing yes.

My decision is probably made for me.

(Image via)

Happy New Y--Hey!

There are few things funnier than realizing one's dear childhood friend is the best photobomber. Ever. (Including oneself.)

Stock Photo Emotions

Today's my last day at AKQA NY-- to try and adequately express my despair, I image searched "despair" and picked the shittiest ones. Enjoy.

Yeah. I feel like I have a box over my head, want to stand in the woods in my American Apparel dress, and can't see past the pasta over my eyes.

The Woman Who Dyed Herself Ginge

As much as I love David Bowie...

(And I do. A lot.)

... I draw the line at actually trying to look like him:

I'm also looking at you, LA ROUX.

Someone else confirm that there are next to no good pictures from The Man Who Fell to Earth online? Right? Ok. Just take my word for it that he had bright red gingey hair.

(images via here,  here and here)

Still On Sale 2

It happened again, folks.

I did my usual whizz through Urban Outfitters, determined to find the last dregs of sale and make it out before my eyes caught something actually expensive. Like, a dress over $60.

Then-- ooh! A pretty almost-Liberty patterned wrap dress with a hoodie. Intriguing! And aha on sale! Righteous.

I almost died in the fitting room. Like, literally almost died, because I started strangulating myself with a crotch that was not supposed to be sewed into a dress. That's when the laughing started. Who in her right mind would voluntarily buy the crap I was struggling to fit over my head?

When I realized it was a playsuit, I went fuck it! and tried going the other direction. After climbing into it with no less struggle, thanks to the jeans I was still wearing, there were more problems. Once the damn thing was covering my body, I had to unwind the twisted front panels and figure out how to wrap it closed.

The blurry result:

Oh dear. Yes, that is a playsuit/wrap/hoodie.

The tight wrap closure in the back creates an asslicious bubble. The mutated skort in the front gives me a pooch. Good product, Urban! Thumbs up.

One BIG side note: this jumper was only on sale because it was labeled defective. It's still full price online.

And that is how, once again, I got punked by the sale section.

BBC America... and Beyond!

"Dave Berry surprises teenagers as they wait for their evening takeaway meal. In a bid to offer them nutritional education, they are flown off to the country where their favourite food originates."

"What came first? The chicken and the egg... Now Jamie Oliver turns his attention to the UK pig industry to help consumers make better-informed choices about the food they buy and eat."

"Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall tries to change the way Britain consumes chicken by setting up his own intensive poultry farm to demonstrate how cheap chickens are currently produced"

"Neil Morrissey and best mate Richard Fox have a dream: to open up their own pub and produce their own beer. There's just one problem: neither of them has ever brewed a drop of ale in their lives."

"In this unique experiment, nine 21st century volunteers subject themselves to the weight loss diets and fitness regimes of previous generations. But have they bitten off less than they can chew?"

"Sainsbury's boss Justin King may have hit on an innovative plan to lift them above the competition: he's letting four shop floor workers take over the reins and roll out their new ideas"

The "food" section on Channel 4 alone is better than the majority of US TV programming. Can we fix this somehow? TV people?

Still On Sale

I'm starting a new segment over here called "Still on Sale".

Today made it about the 5th time I've gone into Topshop, grabbed something awesome off the sale rack, and then realized-- in the fitting room-- why it was still on sale.

Topshop does make a lot of ridiculous clothes, but the ones in this section will be special. These are the ones that someone didn't buy ironically or for a theme party. They just hang around on the rack and suck.

Unfortunately, my first big Whaa? moment wasn't captured on camera. I found a pretty little pink dress with butterfly sleeves. It was when I tried to fit my head through a CROTCH hole that I realized it was not a dress, but a playsuit. Hilarity ensued.

Here's the winner for today. On the rack, it looked like a floaty maxi dress with some sort of sleeve. Bingo! There were a ton on the rack. As usual, I thought I had found something that EVERYONE ELSE had somehow missed.

Oh. A see-through, hip-hugging monstrosity that splits down the front along a ruffle seam. I left my jeans on to keep the peep show to a minimum. The dress's front is shorter than the back, which also inexplicably sports a train. I'm 5'8", so there must have been intentional length added.

Excuse me, Kate Moss? There's a BIG GAPING HOLE in the front of my dress.

I looked like a kid playing dress up.

Phoenix: Let's Try That Again

My poor heart is going to explode from the high highs and the low lows over the past 2 days. The first was yesterday-- it was like OMGZZZ AWESOOMMMEEE!!1! to suddenly stomach dropping oh no oh no.

It was with a foolish optimism that I put on a dress and did my Makeup this morning, because hey! You never know! Maybe that guy who denied me the tickets yesterday would wake up feeling remorseful and email me last minute!

Taping for Fallon came and went. Time ticked by in the Gawker office. I checked Twitter. Tumblr. My RSS Reader. Texts From Last Night, even. Click. Click.

I think I read every single page on the internet at least twice.

Bored with life, I clicked one more thing in my Reader before mentally checking out and heart. Stopped.

This is what I saw:

You know what? God bless you, Street Carnage. Seriously. You make a lot of crass dick jokes and often post NSFW pictures without warning me, but hot damn. You finish like a champion. That's what she said.

So, off I popped down the street to the Apple store. I got there, found a wristband, and scurried into line.

I was only about 15 people deep and knew I'd have a good view of the teeny little stage when I got upstairs. Settled in for the wait, I noticed several things.

1. Spanish speaking people text "jajajajaja" to each other a lot. Why? Doesn't "si" mean yes? Are they secret German speakers?

2. Teenagers from New Jersey are, in general, probably very nice. However. I always manage to be somewhere near a group of them at concerts, and underage drunk bridge and tunnelers always make me see red.

3. Hearing your favorite band suddenly play a soundcheck directly over your head is another way to simulate a heart attack.

When I got upstairs, all the seats were filled. Most of the people looked like employees or music biz people and the line started filing directly behind the seats. I somehow nabbed a primo end-of-row, next-to-aisle spot. That way, in case the seated people stood up during the show, I could very quickly dart into the aisle and still see the stage.

I went to college! I know things!

(Not like those fucking teenagers.)

We found out the concert was being recorded and/or taped? for the iTunes online store. Cool. Band comes out.

Lots of smiling and bopping around from this one over here... they played some new album stuff but also did "Consolation Prizes" and "Long Distance Call". As usual, they're terrific live (holy singing voice, Thomas!) and seemed very happy and appreciative.

Half an hour later, they paused before the last song. The Jersey teenagers, who had (of course) found a dead center standing position, finally came through with the douche. Thomas said something about seeing us tomorrow or Saturday at their concerts in Central Park, and a teenager yelled, "We're going!"

Awkward silence. Heads turn slooowly, iTunes execs look pissed off, band strains to hear.

Thomas, being the incredibly nice guy that he is, stops getting ready to sing and asks, "What?"

Teenager: "We're going!"

Thomas: ?

Teenager: "See you there!"

Thomas: [ambivalent, turning away] "...Ok."

Crowd: "Hahahahahahaha."

And, just like that, a stupid teenager got Cut by a Parisian.

Let me tell you-- it's a life-jarring experience, the first time.

Tomorrow I'm seeing them play in Central Park! Thank my optimism again for buying a ticket months ago, before I knew I'd still be living in this timezone. Here's hoping there are no cardiac events in my near future.