the thoughts and aspirations of a wannabe

Archive for the ‘I Laugh in Your General Direction’ Category

Spotted: Tim Gunn at the Mall

In A few of my favorite things, I Laugh in Your General Direction, Living inside my TV on December 11, 2010 at 8:07 pm

And looking fab, I might add–but when isn’t he?

I’ve been incredibly late to post this–but I saw Tim Gunn in the flesh. So I figure that’s pretty cool.

Tim made an appearance in Troy, MI several weekends ago for a fashion show at Somerset Mall, and according to the promotional poster, “tips on how to make it work for fall.” Here, he shows us how to create two different looks out of the same military jacket. Brilliant.

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‘Tis the Season for General Chaos

In Great Decisions My Parents Make, I Laugh in Your General Direction on December 5, 2010 at 5:48 am

In light of the Christmas spirit, my dad has been pounding on various hard surfaces and swearing inbetween his teeth for the past two weeks, as he has been reigniting a flame from his childhood by building a miniature train set.

It’s quite involved. The buildings light up, there are tiny little people and trees, even gravel streets. I assume this town is industrializing with the use of its own raw materials, as there is a giant freight train that otherwise circumvents it for no particular reason.

But his brand new engine continues to lose the cars it’s pulling, and occasionally my cat hops onto the structure, causing the engine to fall off the tracks (“Why do we even have any god damn animals?!”), which is apparently unfixable and results in him taking the Lord’s name in vain at great length. And at Christmas! Tsk, tsk.

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In A few of my favorite things, Being sassy, Great Decisions My Parents Make, I Laugh in Your General Direction, Just not a fan, Peeves on November 25, 2010 at 3:15 pm

This morning I daringly decided to peruse the online marketplace for potential contenders to replace my former vehicle.

I say “daringly” because the subject of purchasing a new car is touchy with my parents. About three months ago after an argument that included, but was not limited to yelling, fist pounding, and four-letter words, my dad said it would be a “couple” months until we would be in the market for a car again.

If we’re adhering to the true definition of a “couple,” then it should be high time to hit Mike’s Discount Car Corral. But, then again, he very likely could have meant a “couple,” like, “I’m going to have a couple mini-donuts,” which always means around seven.

And by the way that he flatly answered my prodding questions of, “Do you think a Jeep Wrangler would be safe enough?” and, “Doesn’t $6000 sound like too much for a ’98 Jetta?” I’m thinking the number of months it will take to earn back my freedom is closer to the average mini-donut intake.

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Is it a truck? Is it a car? I’m not really sure.

In A few of my favorite things, Being sassy, I Laugh in Your General Direction, Wish List on November 7, 2010 at 3:22 am

Alright, super short post, but it has to be said. Forget BMW 3-series convertible, I have a new dream car. It’s functional, it’s fashionable; it’s the Subaru Brat.

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Are YOU an American Girl?

In I Laugh in Your General Direction, Just not a fan on October 30, 2010 at 7:03 pm

If you are part of my generation, were brought up in a middle to upper economic class, and are a girl, chances are you owned anywhere between one and eleven American Girl dolls.

I went through a hardcore AG phase from ages 6-12. My first doll, Samantha, was part of the Historical Characters doll collection, so she came with a series of chapter books about life in her time period.

Samantha, an incredibly wealthy white girl from 1904 (friends with Nelly who is nine and works in a New York City factory with the rest of her Irish immigrant family), has since been replaced by a more ethnically-diverse Rebecca, a Russian immigrant from 1914, who is somehow just as rich as Samantha. Though, my mom suggests she might be Jewish.

Then I got Felicity, who was from the Revolutionary War period, along with her horse that I renamed Apple (I think because horses like apples. I was an incredibly innovative child) who came with a saddle, saddle pad, stirrups, reigns, and a water bucket.

Felicity and Samantha became fast friends, no matter that their lifetimes were separated by 200 years. They fought a little for my attention, if I remember correctly. It was difficult for all of us when Samantha was sent to the American Girl Doll Hospital after my chinchilla chewed the fingers on her right hand to little jagged stubs. She came back with a “Get Well Soon” balloon and a hospital gown.

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Musique française

In A few of my favorite things, I Laugh in Your General Direction, I want to go to there., Musique, Wish List on October 30, 2010 at 4:41 am

Another thing to add to the list of things I prefer to be French–among people, pastries, accents, and toast–is music.

Just recently, I downloaded a few new favorites that I’ve been jamming out to this week, and in the process, have realized just how much I adore French music. I think I’ve successfully analyzed the reasons why.

  1. Quite honestly, it makes me feel cultured and edgy, which I will admit.
  2. It puts me in a good mood when I can pick out a word or phrase that, after my five years of studying French, I can actually understand.
  3. I love the language; plain and simple.

So, here’s a collection of both French and barely-French songs I have either accumulated over the  years or recently discovered. Enjoy.

Sting, “Perfect Love… Gone Wrong”

This is not a true, French piece of music, but it features French rap, and it’s what started my obsession. I recently unearthed a copy of Sting’s old album, popped it into my old-school boombox, and rocked out to some sophisticated jazzy-Algerian beats for a good week.

This brought back a lot of memories. I first heard it at age five, when my mom bought the CD, and then heard it again repeatedly on a loop for about three years. More than once, she excitedly informed me that, “there is a female French rapper in this song, Hannah Grace. How cool is that?!” She also informed me that she would leave my father for Sting, if given the opportunity, but I suppose that’s beside the point.

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