Mile High Club

For the lack of excitement, I truly apologize. My sickness has prevented me from vacating the house without tissues, decongestants, and Mucinex in tow. It's disgusting, or as I explained to the doctor today, "grossie to try to do business with".

Last week I had a friend in town from NY who I ended up going to Signature Room with. I was unimpressed with the truffle souffle, and their chicken with brie saturated grits. It should be against the law to charge more than free for anything including grits. It's hard to fancy that one up, even if the restaurant is 95 floor above ground, and located in Hancock Building.

Next!

We went to Wisconsin to check out small town life in Lake Geneva, and ended up at my good friend Paul Cowan's art show, Alla Prima. His paintings are still showing at Golden Age, a gallery shop that has just changed locations from Pilsen to West Loop. Later we ended up heading to Tavern on Rush to get some food after midnight, and ended up being sat next to Vince Vaughn. It would not be the place to spend a 40th birthday. I don't know what he was thinking.

Although I am still in sickville, I managed to meet a friend of mine for some drinks and dinner at Pops for Champagne. I went into it with high hopes, and although my "Vie en Rose" was delicious, the pommes frites we ordered were disgusting. How does a restaurant fuck up fries? Oh wait, it's because you shouldn't order fries with champagne cocktails.

I ended up at McDonald's I got so pissed the fries were gross. At least I didn't have to pay.

--Plus Size Beauty Queen


Photo: After Signature Room at Empty Bottle to see Zoos of Berlin with the girls

Playgirls Guide to Radical Self Love

“You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love & affection than you are yourself, & that person is not to be found anywhere. You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love & affection.”
(Buddha)

Click on the photo for full story from GalaDarling

Unbearable Crushness of Being

Things are much slower now that there are not 10 other girls (bachelorette with boa) in town, and I am sick. The speed of life is now so slow and boring I don't know how to compensate other than start my fantasy life all over again.

Which means reading.

I started this book called "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". It is based on some ideology of Nietzsche's, about how ultimately since we have one life to live life is insignificant. But rather the main character is trapped between two woman: one lover the other substantial. Unfortunately as humans we want our actions to have substantial meaning, or weight, and to transcend meaning.

After one of my friends committed suicide last year, I asked my boyfriend at the time if he thought they would say something about it since he lived in a large high rise. He replied, "Why would the media cover something for a 23 year old who had nothing to show for his life?". It made me really sad, because it was true. If my own life ended tomorrow, there would be very little to show for it.

I met a boy last weekend who is one of the most adorable boys I could have ever met, straight out of a Marc by Marc Jacobs ad. I could all the moments we spent together in the palm of my hand and life happy in my mind forever. So maybe he will find me and run away with me to beautiful Marc by Marc Jacobs land.

Life is not worth living without at least one crush to preoccupy your mind.



Photo:lace top by Free People, skirt by Zara

Secret Admirer

Yesterday while at work I received this card above and a rather strange package containing the bouquet shown in the video below. The secretary came bringing it over to me, and I thought it was a mistake. Doesn't every girl dream of this?

Yes, but not this girl.

I don't dream of flowers being given to me by mysterious strangers, who attach cards (located on the left) that just say "You are loved." It is supposed to say, "I love you and am waiting outside your office to give you a diamond."

Interestingly enough, as my own love life resembles a LifeTime movie, one of my good friends is up in town to celebrate her bachelorette. So my friends and I have decided to forgo the normal trashiness and go into decadent cosmo fashion.

For some alone time with my sister, I stole her away to take her to Violet Hour which has arguably one of the best cocktails of my life, the Juliet and Romeo. They gave this postcard with our bill, and I thought it was so perfect considering my affiliations with business I had to post it.

Kissed by a Rose

I have been feeling a case of the whomp whomps the past two days, and after serious thought about the things my ex boyfriend said to me I have come to several conclusions.

1. When life gets messy, go buy a drink.
2. When life gets hard, improvise every song that you used to think was so sexy.
3. When life just turns to shit, go to a comedy show and call your friend who can laugh at you to make yourself feel a lot better.


Sometimes it is easy to take things too personally when it's our own life we are being analytical about. What do people think of me? What does my ex think of me? Were the things he said true?

The answer is as a Plus Sized Beauty Queen, it's never about boys, and their stupid lives. It's about me, and I am Kissed by a Rose dammnit!

24 Hour Champagne Diet

Great weekend out and about hitting up my favorite places: Pink Pop cocktails at Devon Seafood with older gentlemen friends, bad movies and metal shows dressed to the nines, and lots of dancing.

I made so many new friends, at a bar in town called the Continental.

I am sick of this J. Crew pretending it's Thom Browne because they throw some ruffles on a t-shirt. Come on Chicago, can't you at least keep your brogues in-store so I don't have to ship them back when I realize they make me look like I'm trying just way too hard?

Speaking of trying too hard, my friend Drew and I tried a new restaurant called Longman and Eagle in Logan Square. Sike! Can it really be called a restaurant when the over-salty pate is served with orange glazed cauliflower? We ditched it and the over-done ambient candle in the dark room vibe they were going for, and headed to Lula instead. Much better idea, until our waitress changed the status quo on us using a purse as her apron. Can you respect someone serving you bloody mary's and house salad when they look like they are ready to sit next to you to talk gossip girl?


If you are throwing out names like mostarda on a restaurant menu, it's probably a good sign you should walk away slowly.