tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71223103572685313302011-12-26T16:28:39.584-05:00maiahnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1181100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-83389835234536667722011-12-26T16:28:00.004-05:002011-12-26T16:28:39.589-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">VISIT ME ON <a href="http://writingwithwine.com/">WRITINGWITHWINE.COM</a><br /><br />xoxo,<br />Maiah</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-8338983523453666772?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-36528859768734962062011-11-10T14:17:00.000-05:002011-11-10T15:16:05.173-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I have been part of a series of texts that I feel the need to share with all the ladies out there. Thanks to my fancy iPhone 4s, I took these lovely screenshots, and then gussied them up in PowerPoint (shh) for your enjoyment.<br /><div class="p1"><br />I should probably give you the backstory.&nbsp;We met at my girl's second annual Halloween party, where he professed his love within 15 minutes of us meeting. Perhaps I was entertaining the idea that I'd just found 2012's boyfriend. Despite his constant texts calling me "sweetie", the glitter and sparkles quickly wore off when&nbsp;<a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/10/is-internet-ruining-our-future.html" target="_blank">I discovered</a>&nbsp;this "single man" was actually taken. So on Saturday night, while fueled by&nbsp;the power of a few vodka sodas,&nbsp;I finally sent him a simple text back: "you calling me sweetie or your girlfriend?" See the rest for yourself:<br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h4M8VvGIGng/Trwpu1QfnLI/AAAAAAAABBE/Nz9HBYI9YZg/s1600/Slide1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h4M8VvGIGng/Trwpu1QfnLI/AAAAAAAABBE/Nz9HBYI9YZg/s640/Slide1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="p1">Now, let's dissect these texts. Please follow along with the numbers as detailed above and below:</div><div class="p1"><br /><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Stop sending me photos like we're close. I don't know you, man.&nbsp;</li><li>How many times can you call someone sweetie? In my messages I count over 10 times. That's more than once a day for an entire week.&nbsp;</li><li>You got caught. Don't diffuse the truth with an "lol".</li><li>Yes, I have you on Facebook. And your account isn't private, therefore anything in is public&nbsp;knowledge&nbsp;as supplied by you. As <a href="http://theellaproject.com/" target="_blank">Larissa</a> put it: "<b><i>people now-a-days don't realize that anyone can find who you are and what you do. If you're ballsy enough to put your business out there, then you're ballsy enough to get called on it."</i></b>&nbsp;And besides, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLTB0fL8VGA" target="_blank">who gon' check me, boo</a>?</li><li>Does your girlfriend really do her own thing? Does she know you're doing yours? Girls aren't always as "free spirited" as they say.</li><li>See ya!</li></ol><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2FTEjknlCqU/TrwYE8Pl03I/AAAAAAAABA0/BYoug2CildQ/s1600/387832_595440460800_41901926_32343838_1599699789_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2FTEjknlCqU/TrwYE8Pl03I/AAAAAAAABA0/BYoug2CildQ/s1600/387832_595440460800_41901926_32343838_1599699789_n.jpeg" /></a></div><div></div><br />So be careful out there, ladies. It's a dog eat dog world. If you need help&nbsp;dissecting&nbsp;texts or are in need of an anthem to help you forget the foolishness, you can always <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av7m_Pgt1S8" target="_blank">turn to me</a>.<br /><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-3652885976873496206?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-75677264220919568582011-11-09T08:16:00.000-05:002011-11-09T08:19:50.867-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">In honor of this week's airing of <a href="http://blackgirlsrockinc.com/live/">Black Girls Rock!</a> <a href="http://www.bet.com/shows/black-girls-rock/2011.html">Awards</a> (which re-aired last night), I felt inspired to our together my own list of black girls who honestly rock. You see, I love this movement&nbsp;Beverly Bond, mainly because we once interacted on a personal level. I'd pitched her as a potential DJ for an upcoming event with a female client, who later decided she didn't want to share the stage with another gorgeous woman. Despite this blatant insecurity, I had to break the news to Beverly. Her response was simple:&nbsp;<i><b>"why can't girls rock out together?"</b></i>&nbsp;...I promptly fell in love with her.<br /><br />I love this movement by Beverly and felt inspired to put together a list of my own women who rock.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gWeRCqfOU-4/TroFpvi9bsI/AAAAAAAAA_8/jSqCKP9eGDE/s1600/Picture-986.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gWeRCqfOU-4/TroFpvi9bsI/AAAAAAAAA_8/jSqCKP9eGDE/s320/Picture-986.png" width="234" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Beverly Bond</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>What kind of list would this be if it didn't begin with the founder of Black Girls Rock!?<br /><br />Beverly, a New York based DJ, created the began the nonprofit organization in 2006. The goal? To create a safe space for black females (girls and women alike). The organization is committed to the&nbsp;development&nbsp;and betterment of black women across the world. Since it's induction, it has been incredible to see BGR! taking flight through an awards show running two years strong among other outreach programs.<br /><br />By creating a space for young black girls to find positive mainstream representation of themselves, Beverly has earned the title many times over as a black girl who rocks.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S_ueV7Qhggg/TroDWHWqDKI/AAAAAAAAA_0/eY6ZpjINMl8/s1600/tumblr_lubpp9xpLD1qefer0o1_500.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S_ueV7Qhggg/TroDWHWqDKI/AAAAAAAAA_0/eY6ZpjINMl8/s320/tumblr_lubpp9xpLD1qefer0o1_500.jpeg" width="232" /></a><br /><b><br /></b><br /><b>Kerry Washington</b><br /><br />Look at her. The woman can honestly do no wrong. However, she's listed in this post because Kerry and I shared a moment a few years ago at the Conde Nast Traveler Reader's Choice Awards. I was there because it was my job to tell celebrities what to do (oh this life I lead...), she was there presenting an award.<br /><br />She came up to me and said "sister honey, do you think I can slip away after my award? My body weary" with a wink. Actually, it was probably more along the lines of "can I go when I'm done? I'm tired" but knowing what kind of stunning, strong, and funny black woman she is, I'm going to stick with the latter. We shared a moment filled with laughter and a wink from me that said I won't tell if you leave, and since then, I've been a Kerry Washington stan.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x-T6qqeP6oc/TroKDhZmmrI/AAAAAAAABAE/GnOQkMjUZfU/s1600/v-magazine-dakota-fanning-gabby-sidibe02.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x-T6qqeP6oc/TroKDhZmmrI/AAAAAAAABAE/GnOQkMjUZfU/s320/v-magazine-dakota-fanning-gabby-sidibe02.jpeg" width="233" /></a></div><b>Gabourey Sidibe</b><br /><br />I love me some Gabby Sidibe.<br /><br />Like, love.<br /><br />I think it has to do with her Hollywood style Cinderella Story. Apparently, she wanted nothing to do with the acting world and was going to school for something completely unrelated (like science or math or something equally horrific). Anyway, point is, she attended a casting call for&nbsp;<i>Precious</i>&nbsp;on a whim and the rest is history.<br /><br />Aside from the above, I find Gabby completely stunning from inside and out. Her laugh is infectious, her positive attitude is inspring. If she's slated to be on any talk show, I'm DVRing it to hear who her latest celebrity crush is. She's easily one of us (the normal ones), except even more adorable.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T84mlfd2Qx0/TroOCHfjfFI/AAAAAAAABAk/vCRKSqZ7UoY/s1600/Corinne_bailey_rae.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="340" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T84mlfd2Qx0/TroOCHfjfFI/AAAAAAAABAk/vCRKSqZ7UoY/s320/Corinne_bailey_rae.jpeg" width="232" /></a></div><b>Corinne Bailey Rae</b><br /><br />This summer I spent an extended amount of time in The Tents at Lincoln Center for Mercedes Benz Fashion Week.&nbsp;Every day without fail, I'd see a gorgeous woman with beautiful hair walk by the space I was producing. She had a new and fierce outfit each day, I was dying to figure out who she was. Then one day, when I <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/09/girl-about-town-nyfw.html">died and found myself</a> in <a href="http://www.essence.com/">Essence</a> (heaven), I found her in a similar Street Style blog. It was Corrine Bailey Rae.<br /><br />In general, I've enjoyed her music since she released her freshman album. Like everyone else, I was left speechless at the news her husband had passed away and she went into a mourning period. Since then, she has released a cover of Bob Marley's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKhgsQlnWkw">Is This Love</a> that truly is love and has rebranded herself as a fashion maven.<br /><br />I find her a truly courageous woman to emerge this way after tragedy.<br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i4SMxJNrip0/Trp5dmaNbRI/AAAAAAAABAs/8Xa-76sSENQ/s1600/tatiana1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i4SMxJNrip0/Trp5dmaNbRI/AAAAAAAABAs/8Xa-76sSENQ/s320/tatiana1.jpeg" width="232" /></a></div><div><b>Tatyana Ali</b></div><div><br /></div><div>At this year's Black Girls Rock! Awards, Tatyana was awards the Young, Gifted, &amp; Black Award.<br /><br />She took the stage looking absolutely stunning, a very grown up Ashley Banks, who she played on the Fresh Prince of Bel Aire from the ages of 11 to 18.<br /><br />In taking a hiatus from acting, Tatyana attended Harvard University to study Political Science and African American Studies.&nbsp;Through her work there, she's become an activist, focusing a tremendous amount of attention on education issues that affect our youth.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>When accepting her award, she <a href="http://www.bet.com/video/blackgirlsrock/2011/acceptance-speeches/bgr11-speech-s4.html">wrote a letter</a> to her younger self, hoping it will help America's black youth. She spoke wisely about faith, family, and love; word that women of all ages need to remember as we move forward in our lives.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />What black girls are on your list?<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">[image sources: <a href="http://clutchmagonline.com/2009/10/dj-beverly-bond-has-us-dancing-to-positivity/">1</a>, <a href="http://lovelyandbrown.tumblr.com/post/12499914785/kaptivating-kerry">2</a>, <a href="http://www.thinkcontra.com/dakota-fanning-gabby-sidibe-for-v-magazine/">3</a>, <a href="http://alamodedaily.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-music-wednesdays-corinne-baily-rae-is.html">4</a>, <a href="http://lax-magazine.com/tatyana-ali-%E2%80%94-smart-sweet-sexy/">5</a>]</span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7567726422091956858?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-73274911887217616252011-11-01T15:39:00.000-04:002011-11-01T15:39:56.686-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6qkZ2Jajg4I/TrBKfCJbZ6I/AAAAAAAAA-E/o8rjsvHCr6c/s1600/Kim-Kardashian-Kris-Humpries.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6qkZ2Jajg4I/TrBKfCJbZ6I/AAAAAAAAA-E/o8rjsvHCr6c/s400/Kim-Kardashian-Kris-Humpries.jpeg" width="276" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://fashionista.com/2011/08/see-all-three-of-kim-kardashians-wedding-dresses-plus-more-photos-from-the-wedding/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>On Halloween, news broke that Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries were ending their 72 day union. Kim planned on filing for divorce siting the (often overused) term <b><i>irreconcilable&nbsp;differences</i></b>. While divorce is never something to be celebrated or taken lightly, it seems like across the world, the general public can't help but let out one collective chuckle.<br /><br />This was the wedding heard (and watched) around the world. The union, which was displayed on television as a strained one in my opinion, came together in a way that screamed fairy tale. When twitter informed me of the divorce yesterday, I couldn't help but wonder if fairy tales weren't meant to come true. Sure, we all want to marry the man of our dreams, but the union has to be a grounded one, right? Then I began to wonder how I could ensure this - and decided there are four important questions I must ask myself before saying <i style="font-weight: bold;">I do</i>:<br /><br /><b>Do you trust him with your life?</b><br />My mother once said to me, "I don't want to give you your passport until you get married. At that time, I will give it to your husband." Yes, this moment involved a side eye over the telephone. But, I've since realized that this sentiment really means my mother hopes I find someone she can trust with her most prized possession, her daughter. This person becomes responsible for my life, my finances, my general well-being. Just as I do for him. So we have to trust each other with our most prized&nbsp;possessions:&nbsp;ourselves.<br /><br /><b>What does your family think?</b><br />I will never forget the day in high school that I went on my first date. There was a horrible storm and our power was out. When my date came to pick me up, my parents opened the door with an <a href="http://rocky.digikey.com/weblib/Energizer/Web%20Photos/5109IND.jpg">industrial sized flashlight</a>&nbsp;and began to bombard him with questions. I don't remember the full conversation (blacked out from mortification) but I do remember it ended with my date&nbsp;squeaking&nbsp;<i>"and I test my breaks after every puddle!"</i> My father nodded his nod and we were off. My father's nod is very specific and only appears when he is truly satisfied with something or someone. I'll know my future husband is a good fit for me and my family when my father nods his nod.<br /><br /><b>Can you stop sweating the small stuff?</b><br />I've learned that relationships aren't easy. They're not supposed to be. Relationships are hard work, and understanding how you and your mate are&nbsp;compatible&nbsp;takes time. It's easy to get caught up in social events and mutual friends but I am more concerned about is what happens when you're alone? Do you still love his dirty socks on the counter or the way he squeezes the toothpaste out of the holder? It may all sound trivial, but sometimes sweating the small stuff is what ends a relationship. If you can learn how to live together, dirty socks and all, then you can get through more than you imagined.<br /><br /><b>Are you on the same page?</b><br />According to one of the many speculators out there, Kim and Kris couldn't decide on where to live. According to the show, they also couldn't decide on how to spend their money (Kim is a big spender, Kris is frugal) and where their pets would sleep (in their bed or in a dog bed). One of the most important things I want to know before I get married is whether or not we are on the same page about <b><i>everything</i></b>. I mean absolutely everything: finances, children, pets, where to live, where to vacation, how to decorate, what's for dinner... I really mean everything. But most importantly, if we can't agree on where to live, how do we ever expect to happily live together?<br /><br />What questions do you plan to ask yourself before you say <i style="font-weight: bold;">I do</i>?<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7327491188721761625?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-83741054630490727142011-10-26T10:48:00.001-04:002011-10-26T10:52:27.515-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Being a New Yorker is hard.&nbsp;</span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">Being a single female in New York is harder.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">But being a skeptical, jaded, single, New York City girl with an open mind about love is the hardest.</span><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v5hcBtdhD7Y/Tqgbxx2LM4I/AAAAAAAAA94/m9U4jGX2j2I/s1600/satc_season2_ep13_514x330_032920041136.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v5hcBtdhD7Y/Tqgbxx2LM4I/AAAAAAAAA94/m9U4jGX2j2I/s1600/satc_season2_ep13_514x330_032920041136.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><a href="http://carrieoncarrie.wordpress.com/2010/11/01/">via</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The idea of opening your heart and finding love - any kind of love - is hard to fathom. This includes the idea of love, a potential future of love, flirting your way into love... a lovah...&nbsp;</span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b>alladem</b>.&nbsp;</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">All I'm saying is if you've been in love (</span><b style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><i>big love</i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">) and you've been hurt (which is everyone), then it's nearly impossible to drop your&nbsp;guard, open up your heart and let someone new in.</span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Case in point - one of my lovely girl friends. She's a super kind, super gorgeous girl with a huge badonkadonk and a skinny waist and a ton of love to give.&nbsp;<b>And</b>&nbsp;she's extra single. Why? She's not sure and neither am I. But then one day over a few glasses of chianti she told me "I don't let guys touch me on the first date."</span></span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">"Not even hold your hand?" I shouted.</span></span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">"No!"</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">"What do you mean, 'no'!?"&nbsp;</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">Now, I should state that this conversation went around in more circles than necessary - likely due to the chianti.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">"I don't let guys touch me because all of that is intimate. Holding my hand is very intimate." I was a little dumbstruck. I guess I understood her point, but my first thought was&nbsp;<i>who used to hold your hand and why was it so damn intimate.&nbsp;</i>I immediately asked her if she'd allow a first kiss - arguably the best part of any evening with a new guy after a fun date.</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">"No!"</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">"No??!!!!? Ghurl, please!" Clearly, we&nbsp;dissolved&nbsp;into giggles here but through the laughter she told me she was absolutely serious. T</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">hat if any man touched her on a first date, or a second or even a third, she'd cut them off and move onto the next one.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="65" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/pvdus_a-poI" width="620"></iframe></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">What is it about girls and our inability to let go and open up? While we're working on saving ourselves from getting hurt again, we're also becoming brilliant at self-</span>sabotage<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">.</span></span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">Personally, I have one of the best leave me alone side eyes this side of the Hudson, but it might be deterring perfectly fine men from coming up and saying hello. Demetria Lucas of A Belle in Brooklyn has devoted part of her debut book to helping women open up. It involves something as simple as a smile. So I've been getting my practice on to see if it really does work.</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">"Damn, you ladies and your boots. Stompin' all over my damn heart," a man said to me on the A train platform at West 4th Street on Monday evening. I turned my head and smiled at him, taking the time to size him up. Nothing about him was my type, but what's really in a type anyway?&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">"Oh man, and that smile! Just damn." And with that he smiled, tipped his hat, and walked away.</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;">Now what was so hard about that?</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-size: xx-small;">Unless you're dense or not of this generation, you understand the title of this post is inspired by <a href="http://youtu.be/1pSFsMv6R_g">this song</a>.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-8374105463049072714?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-4334969702291708232011-10-23T21:54:00.000-04:002011-10-23T21:54:06.877-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Saturdays are often classified as "Maiah Days."&nbsp;<div><br /></div><div>They usually involve minding my own business, shopping, indulging in manicures and pedicures, and roaming the city. I live for these days.<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dwm8-7u5wGs/TqS_mU7NuoI/AAAAAAAAA9o/FAu0m18hMu0/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dwm8-7u5wGs/TqS_mU7NuoI/AAAAAAAAA9o/FAu0m18hMu0/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Excuse the iPhone photo!</td></tr></tbody></table><div>On the 22nd, I added a quick bit of fashion fun to my weekend routine by attending a cute event thrown by the <a href="http://www.fabsugar.com/">FabSugar</a> girls. They partnered with <a href="http://www.thefryecompany.com/">Frye</a> and <a href="http://www1.bloomingdales.com/">Bloomingdales</a> (59th Street Location) for a small little celebration. Between how much I adore the Sugar, Inc blogs and how much I love my Frye Boots, it was a no-brainer that I'd have to attend.</div><div><br /></div><div>The event was intimate. It occupied a small corner of the Shoes on 2nd area of Bloomies and was booming with women. A DJ played smooth beats while we oogled at the boots and models posed - each in an outfit with a pair of Frye boots styled by a FabSugar editor.</div><div><br /></div><div>The super casual nature offered a nice event experience. While I didn't stay long, I did enjoy myself.&nbsp;I sipped on some bubbly, entered to win a pair of boots for myself, and drooled over the <a href="http://www1.bloomingdales.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=472879&amp;PseudoCat=se-xx-xx-xx.esn_results">Carmen Harness Short Boot</a> and the&nbsp;<a href="http://www.thefryecompany.com/womens-boots/view-all/76835/dorado-lug-riding?color=DBN">Dorado Lug Riding Boot</a>. I'm a proud owner of the <a href="http://www1.bloomingdales.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=438218&amp;PseudoCat=se-xx-xx-xx.esn_results">Jane</a>, but should I ever find myself in need of another pair of leather riding boots, I'm going Dorado... or Carmen... or Dorado.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I was tempted to try a few boots on but there were Frye fanatics everywhere. After hugging the Dorado goodbye, I made my way back to the streets of midtown. But not before trying on a few pieces of David Yurman. Clearly, this girl has a shopping problem.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">P.S. Many thanks to Cristina at Sugar, Inc. for the kind email!</span></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-433496970229170823?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-40798716107578127992011-10-22T18:30:00.003-04:002011-10-22T18:30:38.342-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Aw yeah.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My favorite things this week.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I know the week's not over, but it's been saturated with goodness and I'm bursting at the seams.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2DyC_ds9n_E/TqNBmvE0PAI/AAAAAAAAA9I/Yt9BEpgVRbw/s1600/945d46fff5f3414bb7117604e7f9f1c5_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2DyC_ds9n_E/TqNBmvE0PAI/AAAAAAAAA9I/Yt9BEpgVRbw/s400/945d46fff5f3414bb7117604e7f9f1c5_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lush drinks with colleagues and a client at the semi-new Chelsea hotspot, <a href="http://www.duonewyork.com/">Duo</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">French Martinis are still everything.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--dA52LPLPKI/TqNBpMFUdQI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/8oxjX_rBO_g/s1600/bf10a4d76414414d84ea3f4438beb2f0_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--dA52LPLPKI/TqNBpMFUdQI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/8oxjX_rBO_g/s400/bf10a4d76414414d84ea3f4438beb2f0_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">An afternoon in midtown NYC. I'm a sucker for midtown.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">3</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-STxYc03f_v0/TqNBkpMMwnI/AAAAAAAAA9A/wPehWZAVPaM/s1600/2f7a382ba57d4ffb8039e64ca868b4db_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-STxYc03f_v0/TqNBkpMMwnI/AAAAAAAAA9A/wPehWZAVPaM/s400/2f7a382ba57d4ffb8039e64ca868b4db_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A quiet escape with a latte and a decadent treat in <a href="http://juanvaldezcafe.com/">Juan Valdez</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">4</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8bP200ev4mM/TqNBjp29NjI/AAAAAAAAA84/i6NGjnzoSuQ/s1600/2cf5f3aa345a409888271ccf6ad2cfb0_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8bP200ev4mM/TqNBjp29NjI/AAAAAAAAA84/i6NGjnzoSuQ/s400/2cf5f3aa345a409888271ccf6ad2cfb0_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;An important reminder to forget about just black and white...</div><div style="text-align: center;">(even though all black everything is everything.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Palatino, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 28px; line-height: 36px;"><a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1xeko_shanice-i-love-your-smile_music">❤</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-4079871610757812799?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-977894894699441042011-10-17T23:33:00.000-04:002011-10-18T10:08:59.601-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I get my eyebrows threaded at this great little hole in the wall place in Astoria on Broadway. I love it because the prices are cheap ($6), the women don't talk much, it always smells like&nbsp;incense (which reminds me of my father's man cave), and there's always some sort of Bollywood movie playing on repeat.&nbsp;As I closed my eyes and settled in for the threading, I started to reminisce on my previous obsession with Bollywood... it fell parallel to a man I was dating at the time.<br /><br />We met at a Central Park picnic. I slipped in mud and he cleaned my foot with ice. That's when I knew he was putty in my hands. He showed up at my birthday party a few weeks later and we were&nbsp;inseparable&nbsp;from then on. On my favorite date with him, we ended up at a gorgeous UES restaurant where he ordered everything for me (something some women hate but I happen to love). Several of the items were more traditional, and not on the more America-friendly menu. It was at that point that I fell in love with his culture and thought of myself as an "insider". My&nbsp;Netflix queue held a disproportionate amount of Bollywood movies, I cooked Bhindi Masala and Baingan Bharta like it was part of me, and when I went out to dinner, I ordered off the menu like I knew what I was talking about. He introduced me to the smooth sounds of <a href="http://www.gotanproject.com/">The Gotan Project</a>, a quirky Parisian electro/nuevo-tango group.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zLJilPve3aA/Tpzw3FjQvAI/AAAAAAAAA8c/Lrzry5C1TT8/s1600/something+new.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zLJilPve3aA/Tpzw3FjQvAI/AAAAAAAAA8c/Lrzry5C1TT8/s1600/something+new.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[via]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />In 2005 I studied abroad in London and met the former love of my life, referred to on the blog as Old Flame. He introduced me to the real London, he showed me the joys of the outer city and the underbelly of Harrod's (he was a pastry chef there) and as we dated, I felt myself growing. It might have just been me getting fat because he was a pastry chef and was <u><b>always</b></u> feeding me treats. It also might have been my heart exploding, which was an unfamiliar feeling at the time (also known as "falling in love"). Regardless, I was hooked and as a result, I started to mold myself to him. While in London&nbsp;I started baking&nbsp;uncontrollably. I ran around the Harrod's food halls like I owned the place, and I toyed with the idea of permanently to the UK daily. Because of his Parisian roots,&nbsp;I vowed to learn French - I even took adult language classes at night after school when I returned to the states.. He introduced me to <a href="http://www.corneille.ca/">Cornielle</a>, a French R&amp;B crooner with family in Germany, Rwanda and Canada.<br /><br />I mean, the examples could go on, and on, and on. The more I got to thinking about it, the more curious I became about how I change as I date. Thinking about this on Sunday afternoon, I took to my iTunes and ran through my music. Unchecked song after unchecked song brought back memories of a lover, an ex-boyfriend, or a situation that ended in tears. I realized that my iTunes steadily reflects exactly who I've dated. The timestamp of their download date highlights when we were together, and the missing check is an easy indication of their departure.<br /><br />Being a music head, my initial thoughts were sadness towards all of the wasted music.&nbsp;<b><i>You're supposed to grow and change, and your realities are supposed to be expanded when you date someone</i></b>.&nbsp;But the more I reflected I couldn't help but wonder... how much is too much?<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-97789489469944104?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-38761838362939208312011-10-14T14:19:00.000-04:002011-10-14T14:19:53.495-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">A weekly recap of the items I've been coveting.&nbsp;The items that have made me <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1xeko_shanice-i-love-your-smile_music">smile</a>.<br /><br />... My mini one-week obsessions.&nbsp;And I'm sharing them with you because sharing is caring.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VeE2Tz1NO8/Tph74rmHiUI/AAAAAAAAA8U/GSZZZwrwr3E/s1600/a029fce20a47480d9ba80891c52f05e3_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5VeE2Tz1NO8/Tph74rmHiUI/AAAAAAAAA8U/GSZZZwrwr3E/s400/a029fce20a47480d9ba80891c52f05e3_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Saint Patrick's Cathedral</div><div style="text-align: center;">Escaped from an event in midtown and visited this gorgeous spot in Midtown. I love finding surprising spaces like this in the city - a great reminder to keep exploring.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bLMQ2W1o3LM/Tph4QYozS_I/AAAAAAAAA8M/2yiL6eE1TTA/s1600/Asa-Beautiful-Imperfection.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bLMQ2W1o3LM/Tph4QYozS_I/AAAAAAAAA8M/2yiL6eE1TTA/s400/Asa-Beautiful-Imperfection.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Asa</div><div style="text-align: center;">I was <a href="http://www.wearenotmartha.com/2011/06/key-lime-pie/">introduced</a> to <a href="http://www.asa-official.com/">Asa</a> by one half of the super-foodie-blogger duo, <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/chelsee">Chelsee</a> of <a href="http://www.wearenotmartha.com/">We Are Not Martha</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The singer has just released her sophomore album, <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/beautiful-imperfection/id449684735">Beautiful Imperfection</a>. However, I'd like to note that it is actually, beautiful perfection.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">3</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-RU9So6qW8/TphkkbVKouI/AAAAAAAAA8E/ohfEfWez44g/s1600/luxurious+life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="396" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-RU9So6qW8/TphkkbVKouI/AAAAAAAAA8E/ohfEfWez44g/s400/luxurious+life.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.thesimplyluxuriouslife.com/">The Simply Luxurious Life</a></div><div style="text-align: center;">A luxuriously lovely lifestyle blog with gorgeous imagery and smart tips for today's woman.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">4</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-swXf--6d_7Q/TphcfLzAI1I/AAAAAAAAA78/YiyeGoRQU3s/s1600/3e919f1b1e124d4686c56e1024f578c5_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-swXf--6d_7Q/TphcfLzAI1I/AAAAAAAAA78/YiyeGoRQU3s/s400/3e919f1b1e124d4686c56e1024f578c5_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sallyhansen.com/products/nails/nail-color/salon-effects-real-nail-polish-strips">Sally Hansen Salon Effects</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The perfect way to sass up a Friday afternoon at work.</div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Palatino, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 28px; line-height: 36px;">❤</span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-3876183836293920831?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-88536794438088728772011-10-12T01:17:00.001-04:002011-10-12T01:17:29.783-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div>Not sure if I've been very clear about this in the past but, just in case I haven't, I want to be very clear about it right now: <b><i>I love me some Tracee Ellis Ross</i></b>.&nbsp;As in, I will watch marathon after marathon of <a href="http://www.bet.com/shows/girlfriends.html">Girlfriends</a> reruns on <a href="http://www.bet.com/">BET</a> and <a href="http://www.centrictv.com/">Centric</a> just to get my Joan/Tracee fix. The woman is a beautiful comedic genius - hard to come across in general, but especially in the black community.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, with the buzz surrounding the new BET series, <a href="http://www.bet.com/shows/reed-between-the-lines.html">Reed Between The Lines</a>, I was thrilled and excited for the return of my <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/maiah/status/123957842704216066">#girlcrush</a> to the boob tube. Tracee plays Dr. Carla Reed, a psychologist with what seems to be a thriving practice and a super handsome hubby in NYU English professor, Dr. Alex Reed. Alex is played by Malcolm-Jamal Warner of Cosby Show Fame where he played heartthrob, Theo.<br /><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8_L14WPaLGg/TpUeD_NyP7I/AAAAAAAAA70/IY2oPIDrLmU/s1600/reed_between_the_lines.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8_L14WPaLGg/TpUeD_NyP7I/AAAAAAAAA70/IY2oPIDrLmU/s640/reed_between_the_lines.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.thefutoncritic.com/news/2011/10/05/the-bet-hip-hop-awards-2011-air-tuesday-october-11-at-800-pm-followed-by-the-series-premiere-of-reed-between-the-lines-654113/20111005bet01/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div>The show is pretty incredible for BET programming. It's very exciting to watch BET resurface as a hub for black folks promoting <a href="http://www.bet.com/shows/the-game.html">several</a> <a href="http://www.bet.com/shows/lets-stay-together.html">exciting</a> <a href="http://www.bet.com/shows/reed-between-the-lines.html">shows</a> (either re-signed or brand new). Most importantly, it's exciting to see a show like Reed Between The Lines take primetime on Tuesday night.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/07/book-review-belle-in-brooklyn.html">I once wrote</a> that Demetria Lucas's book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Belle-Brooklyn-Go-Advice-Living/dp/1451606311">A Belle In Brooklyn</a>, was the perfect outlet for a bougie girl like me. I feel the same exact way about Reed Between The Lines. It's a wonderfully positive representation of successful black people in a super happy marriage. That said, the show is a very realistic take on life with Carla, a former single mother of twins who is still dealing with her ex-files*. She shares an adorable 7-year-old with her main squeeze. The show chronicles the daily trials of two working professionals, raising children, and keeping their marriage fruitful.</div><div><br /></div><div>The most exciting bit about the show is the fact that I feel like we're receiving Cosby Show lessons for a 2011 audience. It's not entirely&nbsp;coincidence&nbsp;that the Reeds home seems to carry echoes of the Cosby's. Warner notes in an <a href="http://www.bet.com/news/celebrities/2011/10/11/q-a-reed-between-the-lines-star-malcolm-jamal-warner.html">interview</a> with BET: <i>That was definitely the mold we were going for. When you look at the history of Black sitcoms throughout the course of television I think, for the most part, they kind of all fit around the same category.&nbsp;But when you look at The Cosby Show — that fits into a category all in itself. From the onset, we’ve been pretty clear that we’re trying to go for that other category. &nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><br />I'm excited to go on the journey with the Reed family. The first two episodes aired in a double header tonight, <i><b>and they lived up to the hype</b></i>. I can honestly say my Tuesday evening television line up now includes Reed Between The Lines for as long as it's on the air.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-8853679443808872877?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-10459149307919073752011-10-07T01:44:00.001-04:002011-10-09T20:13:45.409-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tgjAAIzl1BY/To6LJ7qKy8I/AAAAAAAAA6s/bR4JSgrVYs8/s1600/carrie-bradshaw-computer.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tgjAAIzl1BY/To6LJ7qKy8I/AAAAAAAAA6s/bR4JSgrVYs8/s1600/carrie-bradshaw-computer.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://warmingglow.uproxx.com/2011/03/ten-seriously-disturbing-pieces-of-tv-fan-fiction/carrie-bradshaw-computer">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I keep hearing these stories by my friends about the various ways in which the internet is causing strain on either a potential or current relationship. So much so that I felt the need to sit down and write about it.<br /><br />I think it's becoming an epidemic. We meet someone organically, then we learn about them in an&nbsp;inorganic&nbsp;way through Google, Facebook, Twitter, or whatever else is out there. Pick your poison, either way <a href="http://vir4l.com/dont-let-your-cat-on-the-internet/">we're gaining intimate knowledge too quickly</a>.<br /><br />In short, the answer is <i><b>yes the internet is ruining our relationships</b></i>. But, in talking with Dushane of <a href="http://thepostcool.com/">The Post Cool</a> about the issue, he brought up an important point:<br /><br /><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Is it ruining relationships or saving you from future tragic discoveries?&nbsp;</span></b></i><br /><i><br /></i><br />Perhaps he's right. In an episode of The Millionaire Matchmaker, Patti Stranger sent NFL player Freddie Mitchell on what was supposed to be an enjoyable date with a southern belle and former cheerleader. The <a href="http://sportsmuseonline.com/content/freddie-mitchells-face-when-called-out-first-date-not-paying-child-support-priceless">date ended in shock</a> when she confessed she googled him and called the millionaire out for not paying child support.&nbsp;This is likely a subject that would have been broached in&nbsp;conversation&nbsp;when the time was right. Because she googled him, it was inappropriately brought up on their first date and signaled the demise of their budding relationship.&nbsp;Perhaps she avoided a <i>future tragic discovery</i>, but in the meantime, she also put the fire out on what could have been a fun and exciting relationship between two former athletes.<br /><br />A friend of mine recently confessed that she'd gotten to googling a date just hours before they were due to meet. After searching a number of articles, she found several that mentioned his wife and children. She panicked, and cancelled the date immediately. We ran through our options quickly: <i>"When was the article written?" </i>I asked. She wasn't sure. <i>"Maybe he's since divorced or separated..." </i>I suggested but it was too late, the damage was done and the date stayed cancelled.<br /><br />I've been crushing on a man at my gym recently. We flirt by the weights and I always practice my highest kicks if he's walking by the Total Body Fitness class. I'm gonna go ahead and classify this as love at first highkick. I knew his first name and that he lived in Queens, so I took to google. After a bit of digging, I found his MySpace page. <i>MySpace? Really?</i>&nbsp;I clicked around and found a series of notes written by my gymcrush, all written in full capitals with no punctuation and spelling errors galore. Needless to say, now, when I see gymcrush I think "<i>why do you still have a MySpace</i>" and "<i>did you go to college?</i>". Clearly, we're going nowhere fast.<br /><br />I have no clue what's right and what's wrong in this situation.&nbsp;However, I do know that if you go looking for dirt you're bound to get dirty. While we may be saving ourselves from future tragic discoveries, <i>we're also forfeiting the life changing moments (both good and bad) of going through a relationship</i>. Regardless of the outcome, you're often changed for the better.<br /><br />Now, is that really so bad?&nbsp;</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1045914930791907375?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-51218254386887524302011-10-06T08:41:00.001-04:002011-10-06T08:42:57.938-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><br /><center><iframe width="640" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/UF8uR6Z6KLc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center></div><br><br><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-5121825438688752430?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-15896142714024511222011-10-03T21:40:00.000-04:002011-10-03T21:40:39.044-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As a nod to the wonderful musical artist of the greatest feel good hit from 1990's musical genius, <a href="http://www.shaniceonline.com/">Shanice</a>, I'm instituting "iSmile Mondays" on <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/">Writing with Wine</a>. </div><br /><br /><center><iframe frameborder="0" height="420" src="http://www.dailymotion.com/embed/video/x1xeko?highlight=%23A6798F" width="560"></iframe></center><br /><div><br /></div>The truth is, everyone needs to smile. It brings out all the good endorphins. But even more so, we all need extra smiles on Mondays. Here's what's making me smile today:<br /><div>&nbsp;<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q3chxYOcpPs/Topd97cIQII/AAAAAAAAA6c/7X-ShHhWwzE/s1600/photo.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q3chxYOcpPs/Topd97cIQII/AAAAAAAAA6c/7X-ShHhWwzE/s400/photo.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">gorgeous fountain in lincoln center</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Vqj4XxLTNTQ/Toph1DKpuGI/AAAAAAAAA6g/oz-VRm9jfIE/s1600/Lo2Sc.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Vqj4XxLTNTQ/Toph1DKpuGI/AAAAAAAAA6g/oz-VRm9jfIE/s400/Lo2Sc.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">beautiful sunset and view of the skyline from my bedroom window</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ot0EHX0MdOA/Toph2cSWfzI/AAAAAAAAA6k/lpq0uu-hS2M/s1600/MxZKn.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ot0EHX0MdOA/Toph2cSWfzI/AAAAAAAAA6k/lpq0uu-hS2M/s400/MxZKn.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">card from my grandmother</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cVIxk1ZaCJ0/TopjPiLomtI/AAAAAAAAA6o/xweVYVdJh9E/s1600/218662903_2884864.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cVIxk1ZaCJ0/TopjPiLomtI/AAAAAAAAA6o/xweVYVdJh9E/s400/218662903_2884864.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">fresh flowers on my bookcase</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Palatino, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 28px; line-height: 36px;">❤</span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1589614271402451122?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-12961427208046643412011-09-22T10:00:00.000-04:002011-09-22T10:00:03.865-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I was surprised to find myself wiping tears off my face at the news that the Supreme Court denied a block of the execution of <a href="http://www.bet.com/topics/t/troy-davis.html">Troy Davis</a>. I called my mother, and we prayed for peace.<br /><br />I'm not going to lie, like many, I was one to find out of the trial on Twitter. Between <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/search?q=%23TooMuchDoubt">#TooMuchDoubt</a> hashtags, I <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Troy_Davis_case">googled</a>, and <a href="http://www.amnestyusa.org/our-work/cases/usa-troy-davis">googled</a>, and <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/troy-davis">googled</a>. And was left speechless at the <i><b>lack of evidence</b></i> supporting the guilty tag he wore. He was convicted of murdering off-duty Officer Mark MacPhail in 1989. Davis maintained his innocence, and doubt continued to <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/amnesty/status/116323291425292288">weaken the verdict</a> as witness after witness retracted their statements.<br /><br />Even more so, six retired corrections officers, including a retired warden of the Georgia Department of Corrections (where Davis was held) pleaded for clemency on behalf of Davis. <a href="http://www.bet.com/news/national/2011/09/21/prison-wardens-sign-petition-to-save-troy-davis.html">Their statement</a> was powerful, and worth your time to read when considering a stance on the death penalty. Finally, Ben Jealous of the NAACP took to CNN with a woman who claims she knows the actual killer of Officer MacPhail.<br /><br />As he did four times prior, Davis refused his last meal, knowing that the law would provide justice for him. However, this time, on&nbsp;Wednesday, September 21st at 11:08pm Troy Davis was pronounced dead.<br /><br />While on the gurney, to the MacPhail family, he maintained his innocence, "I did not personally kill your son, your father, your brother. <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2040054/Troy-Davis-execution-Death-penalty-victims-words-family-Im-innocent.html">I am innocent</a>."<br /><br />He continued, "the incident that happened that night is not my fault. I did not have a gun. All I can ask... is that you look deeper into this case so that you really can finally see the truth."<br /><br />To his family and friends, he asked that they be strong, keep the faith, work hard, and pray for him. He asked them "to continue to fight this fight."<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cjJl43gf3WY/Tnst7iQiLjI/AAAAAAAAA6U/lfJo-rY7owg/s1600/285-_5008188.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cjJl43gf3WY/Tnst7iQiLjI/AAAAAAAAA6U/lfJo-rY7owg/s320/285-_5008188.jpeg" width="217" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://junglejem45.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-am-troy-davis-e-blast-campaign-starts.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>And finally, to those who took his life, he said "May God have mercy on your souls. May God he bless your souls." And with that, it is reported he laid his head down, and went with the Lord.<br /><br />At the end of the day, the issue for me is not about whether or not Troy Davis is guilty. It also wasn't about whether or not <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2011/09/21/justice/texas-dragging-death-execution/index.html">Lawrence Russell Brewer</a> deserved the death penalty today, just hours before Davis. It's about the faulty concept of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment">Capital Punishment</a> being an acceptable way for a victim's family to gain solace. It was reported that the MacPhail family pleaded for this Davis killing so they could "get on with their lives." <b><i>For them, I feel sad.</i></b> Because they have no faith in the Lord that they will be fine so they resort to killing another family's brother, son &amp; uncle in order to save face in their own.<br /><br />I truly believe this is a severe error in our justice system. And because this is on the local level, <a href="http://www.washingtonmonthly.com/political-animal/2011_09/obama_cant_stop_davis_executio032345.php">there is nothing President Obama can do</a> to stop it. Not in cases like this. Local governments have the option to kill at a judge's personal preference. This trial especially has lead to worldwide protests for Troy Davis. Because in the end, <a href="http://friendsofjustice.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/img_0691.jpg">any of us</a> could be in the same position. It's really tragic.<br /><br />For me, the cliched statement stands:<br /><br /><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.</span></b></i></div><br><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1296142720804664341?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-17851803005017064382011-09-21T23:01:00.000-04:002011-09-21T23:03:22.205-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aQtetDQagOw/TnqjXD5SLxI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dz3cejMQ-ag/s1600/troymom-reduced1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aQtetDQagOw/TnqjXD5SLxI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Dz3cejMQ-ag/s400/troymom-reduced1.jpeg" width="323" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://allisonkilkenny.com/2008/10/amnesty-international-decries-us-supreme-court-decision-to-deny-troy-davis-petition/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>A prayer for <a href="http://www.bet.com/troydavis">Troy Davis</a>.<br /><br />The 23rd Psalm:<br /><br />The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.<br />He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:<br />He leadeth me beside the still waters.<br />He restoreth my soul:&nbsp;He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.<br /><br />Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,<br />I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;<br />Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.<br />Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;<br />Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.<br /><br />Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,<br />and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1785180300501706438?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-18044944083386625142011-09-20T11:14:00.002-04:002011-09-20T11:18:34.558-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It was a crisp fall day when my girl friend got a phone call from her <i><b>ex-situationship's wife</b></i>.<br /><br />Yup.<br /><br />My friend had been told the man was divorced and shared custody of their child. She'd been wined and dined and showed her potential closet should she eventually become Mrs. X. What she hadn't been told was that her Mr. X was actually married. He had a wife and a family (heard from the horse's mouth). And her potential closet (with shelves on shelves on shelves for shoes) belonged to someone else.<br /><br />"I checked for a ring! I even checked for a ring tan and he had neither!" she lamented over unlimited mimosas at brunch in Astoria hot spot, <a href="http://mexiqny.com/">MexiQ</a>.<br /><br />And then I (obviously) got to thinking about marriage and wedding rings. It's no new topic to me, something I'm often curious about, especially after one of my other girls was approached at her 5 year college reunion by a man who said "wedding rings come off" with a wink.<br /><br />I think part of why I find this idea disgusting is because I feel so strongly about wearing my rings when the time comes. After some research, I found out that wedding rings were actually a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Engagement_ring">sign</a> of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Betrothal#Betrothal">ownership</a> of a man to his wife. More often than not, rings were engraved, not as a romantic gesture, but more along the lines of a "dog tag". Return to sender.So I can't understand the difficulty in men keeping their rings on. If <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amwXnrRsGkM">I belong to you, then you belong to me</a> (thank you, Lenny Kravitz). Seems pretty clear to me.<br /><br />In an effort to better understand this, I called my mother:"Daddy wears his wedding ring right?"<br /><br />"Oh Maiah, don't be silly. You know your father hates jewelry."<br /><br />And that was that.<br /><br />So, I asked <a href="http://anothergfblog.blogspot.com/">my roommate</a>:<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T0qFOVUKyNs/TniqOWWveyI/AAAAAAAAA6M/MArpYBDbmGs/s1600/anyaktweet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T0qFOVUKyNs/TniqOWWveyI/AAAAAAAAA6M/MArpYBDbmGs/s400/anyaktweet.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="https://twitter.com/#!/maiah">tweet tweet</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Fascinating.<br /><br />I guess it's true - wearing a ring wouldn't stop a man (or woman) from taking it off and exploring forbidden desires. But I'm a bit old school in thought and have faith that blind trust and sheer love would keep my future husband from cheating. Am I doomed? Perhaps this comes from my parents, who've been happily married 36 years and still have date night. Or perhaps it's due to my roommate's parents, who skype with their daughter wearing matching hoodies.<br /><br />What do you think? Ladies, will your husband wear a ring? Men, will you be faithful if you don't?<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1804494408338662514?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-55174855909623818072011-09-18T00:14:00.000-04:002011-09-18T17:05:23.926-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">That's the thing about Fashion Week. When I'm working with so many beauty and fashion clients it's nearly impossible to keep up on my <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/">labor of love</a>. Sometimes, rather than burning the midnight oil on a post, a girl just needs her girlfriends and a cocktail. So that's what I did to get through the week.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N4gtbc632Fg/TnVqjI0E0tI/AAAAAAAAA58/uQMulFJiJLU/s1600/bno_avatar.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N4gtbc632Fg/TnVqjI0E0tI/AAAAAAAAA58/uQMulFJiJLU/s400/bno_avatar.png" width="200" /></a></div>Last Friday, September 9th, my coworker and I jumped in a cab and rushed over to <a href="http://www.prannarestaurant.com/">Pranna Restaurant</a> for <a href="http://bloggernightout.com/">Blogger's Night Out</a>. The event proved to be the perfect antidote to the previous night's Fashion's Night Out festivities (or <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/maiah/status/111990352776413185">fiasco</a>). #BNOnyc was organized by <a href="http://bloggernightout.blogspot.com/p/meet-bno-team.html">six amazing fashion bloggers</a> from all walks of life. Their intentions? To create an opportunity for other bloggers to come together and network (or just have a great time) with drinks sponsored by Voga Italia, polishes by <a href="http://www.zoya.com/">Zoya</a>, glitz and glam by <a href="http://www.sendthetrend.com/">Send the Trend</a>, and shopping opportunities by <a href="http://www.shopittome.com/">Shop It To Me</a>, <a href="http://www.solesociety.com/">Sole Society</a>, <a href="https://opensky.com/">OpenSky</a>, and <a href="http://www.tortoiseandblonde.com/">Tortoise &amp; Blonde</a>. Hoping the girls decide to make it a bi-annual party so I can indulge again in February. Is it really too much to ask? Fingers crossed!<br /><br />The next night, I met up with the girls again for the <a href="http://www.cocktailsandcouture.net/">Cocktails &amp; Couture</a> party. The event was held at <a href="http://www.boconcept.us/">Bo Concept</a> and hosted by the fabulous <a href="http://www.liannefarbes.com/">Lianne Farbes</a>. Guests were privy to 3 specialty cocktails by <a href="http://www.xratedfusion.com/">X-Rated Fusion Liqueur</a>, which I've been dying to try and was lucky enough to be gifted a small sample for my home. The event itself was so much fun - it was put together by my PR girl crush, <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/cricepr">Christina Rice</a> of <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/LuxeLifeMedia">LuxeLife Media</a>. Guests were an interesting range of New Yorkers, bloggers, fashionistas, and more. I was awestruck when Wendy Lam of <a href="http://www.nitrolicious.com/blog/">nitro:licious</a> walked by, and thrilled when <a href="http://www.lovebrownsugar.com/">LoveBrownSugar</a> perched her gorgeous self on the arm of the sofa I was sitting on for a little chat. Love that girl!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3P_kW99GkJ8/TnVraCpwHVI/AAAAAAAAA6I/7l-5Vu7ye3U/s1600/314452_271032726254340_139370676087213_1005453_2012150744_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3P_kW99GkJ8/TnVraCpwHVI/AAAAAAAAA6I/7l-5Vu7ye3U/s400/314452_271032726254340_139370676087213_1005453_2012150744_n.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://theellaproject.com/">Larissa</a>, <a href="http://www.fiercelyfashionable.com/">Allison</a>, <a href="http://www.lovebrownsugar.com/">Christina</a> &amp; I</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Guests indulged in manicures by <a href="http://www.cnd.com/Products/Color/shellac-hello.aspx">CND</a>, hair demos by title sponsor&nbsp;<a href="https://www.indiquehair.com/indique/home.do">Indique Hair</a>, skincare tips by <a href="http://specificbeauty.com/">Specific Beauty</a>, and the gift bag included pieces from <a href="http://www.immunocologie.com/home.htm">Immunocologie</a>, <a href="http://www.philippematignon.us/">Philippe Matignon</a>, &amp; <a href="http://www.frs.com/">FRS</a>. What's more is a few lucky guests walked away with the <a href="http://www.clarisonic.com/">Clairsonic Cleansing System</a>, which only furthered my jealous of Lianne Farbes' beautiful skin. #iWant.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Looking forward to next season's C&amp;C party, which has already been <a href="http://www.cocktailsandcouture.net/2011/09/thank-you/">announced</a> for February!&nbsp;</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-5517485590962381807?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-15370259402386825512011-09-11T21:21:00.001-04:002011-09-11T21:21:36.091-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Ten years ago, I turned 16. I put on my favorite skirt, did the worst make up I could do (also known as the best make up a high schooler could do), and went to school proud that today was my birthday.<br /><br />Ten years ago, my best friend met me in the cafeteria with something called "Sex Cake" even though none of us has experienced the title. She wished me a happy birthday and we indulged in our fat kid ways, eating chocolate before first period.<br /><br />Ten years ago, my history teacher was called outside the classroom by our principal (the perks of small schools). He came back in with a somber expression and turned on the television. He told us there was something tragic was happening in New York City. As a classroom, we all watched the news.<br /><br />Ten years ago, sitting in my history class, I watched the second plane fly into The World Trade Center. I blinked, not quite sure what had happened. And then watched Channel 5 replay the footage over, and over, and over again. It never began to feel real.<br /><br />Ten years ago.<br /><br />Ten years later, I turned 26. I put on my most comfortable leggings, threw on some boots and a tank, and went to brunch with my roommate. I celebrated the night before with good friends, and resolved to go home early.<br /><br />Ten years later, I decided not to plan anything, or do anything over the top for this birthday. Partly because I work in a job where I plan every last detail of other people's lives. Partly because it felt right not to.<br /><br />Ten years later, I cringed at the idea of friends on the train to celebrate me, should anything occur at the hands of the folks who vowed to come back into our lives as&nbsp;abrasively&nbsp;as they did the first time. I stayed in my borough, traveled only within walking distance of my apartment, and hoped others did the same.<br /><br />Ten years later, I silently celebrated life and my loved ones. I welcomed their well wishes, and sent along my own as a thank you. I prayed for serenity, patience, and longevity. I prayed for you. I prayed for them.<br /><br />Ten years later.<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1537025940238682551?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-26610680350740590242011-09-10T12:37:00.000-04:002011-09-10T12:50:10.474-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I feel pretty blessed that a large part of my everyday job revolves around planning for and being at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week every 6 months. While the work that goes into a successful event isn't always glamorous, I seem to find myself enjoying the finer things when the moment strikes.<br /><br />Case in point: <a href="http://photos.essence.com/galleries/street_style__fashion_week_s_s_2012#944573">this girl</a> is featured on <a href="http://www.essence.com/">Essence Magazine</a>'s Street Style coverage for fashion week. The photographer, Darío of <a href="http://www.artx-studio.com/">Art-X Studio</a> was SUPER sweet during the quick shoot. That's my new fashion week boo.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NrxPekLrFps/TmuQkk5_ZcI/AAAAAAAAA50/7unZkQbpuOw/s1600/mj_essence_mag_feature.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="558" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NrxPekLrFps/TmuQkk5_ZcI/AAAAAAAAA50/7unZkQbpuOw/s640/mj_essence_mag_feature.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://photos.essence.com/galleries/street_style__fashion_week_s_s_2012#944573">via</a>&nbsp;check out photos 40-43]<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">What I'm wearing:&nbsp;</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Express button down &amp; cami, Club Monaco Skirt,</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">&nbsp;<a href="http://www.coach.com/online/handbags/ProductDetailWrapperView?storeId=10551&amp;catalogId=10051&amp;langId=-1&amp;partNumber=q663_whi">Coach</a>&nbsp;boots, David Yurman Jewels, Louis Vuitton Neverfull, &amp; Sunnies from UO</span></i></div><br /><br />Look, Ma! Essence Mag calls me a writer!<br /><br />Don't mind me and my geeked out response to this love - I'm just a girl from the suburbs trying to do it in the city.<br /><br />xoxo</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-2661068035074059024?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-41171030320461164192011-09-03T16:08:00.002-04:002011-09-03T16:08:56.166-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">People have gone viral crazy for the series of videos created by three dudes commissioned by STA Travel Australia. Rick Mereki, Tim White, and Andrew Lees traveled for 44 days, visiting 11 countries on 18 separate flights spanning the distance of 38,000 miles. Their travels were done in an effort to "turn 3 ambitious linear concepts based on movement, learning and food into 3 beautiful and hopefully compelling short films." <br><br>I am obsessed with them all.<br><br>A little bit of saturday afternoon viewing for all of you, as you explore the films by the 3 dudes who travelled the world. Hopefully it inspires you. At the very least, enjoy the very handsom Andrew Lees get his walk, dance, and eat on.<br><br><center>(1) EAT<br><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/27243869?color=ffffff" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0"></iframe><br><br>(2) LEARN<br><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/27244727?color=ffffff" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0"></iframe><br><br>(3) MOVE<br><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/27246366?color=ffffff" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0"></iframe><br></center><br></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-4117103032046116419?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-6128617739201007912011-08-30T01:00:00.002-04:002011-08-30T01:02:37.452-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The story surrounding Beyonce and Jay-Z’s pregnancy has me beaming. <i><b>Beaming</b></i>. And I know most people are wondering, “<a href="http://www.vibevixen.com/2011/08/why-should-we-care-beyonce-is-pregnant/?utm_campaign=twitter&amp;utm_medium=twitter&amp;utm_source=twitter">why should we care</a>?”<br /><br />Well, #<a href="https://twitter.com/#!/search/icare">iCare</a> for the same reason I was heartbroken at the rumors that Will &amp; Jada were divorcing (<a href="http://madamenoire.com/67471/dont-believe-the-hype-will-jada-are-not-splitting/">not true</a>, phew). #iCare for the same reason I love the relationship Oprah and Steadman share: she says he is her rock. He steadies her. I love that. #iCare because inspiring Style &amp; Beauty Editor, Julee Wilson <a href="http://www.lovebrownsugar.com/2011/08/get-like-me-julee-wilson.html#more">says</a> her greatest accomplishment is finding love with someone who “elevates all of the positive aspects about me.”<br /><br />Beyonce announced her pregnancy on the black carpet at the MTV VMA pre-show. There was a collective gasp heard across the world, then <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/08/29/beyonce-pregnancy-twiter-record-mtv-vmas_n_941064.html">everyone took to twitter</a>. My girl Kanetha’s tweet from last night sums it up perfectly.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tqLMr2AriTQ/Tlxmusy3YUI/AAAAAAAAA5M/CbLHY2m8yNE/s1600/kaybee115_beytweet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tqLMr2AriTQ/Tlxmusy3YUI/AAAAAAAAA5M/CbLHY2m8yNE/s400/kaybee115_beytweet.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />#<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aV5DdJm9Py0">iCare</a> because Beyonce and Jay-Z took the journey towards love that little 20th century girls dream about. You know, that sort of old school chivalrous courtship that begins in butterflies and ends in a <a href="http://clutchmagonline.com/2011/08/beyonce-baby-bumps-and-doing-it-the-right-way/">union</a>? Plus, Beyonce never turned away from her first love, music, in building her relationship with Hova.<br /><br />For some reason, this seems like a rare find these days. It’s inspirational, and their joy is palpable.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody> <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j14Uk2SKm68/TlxrmEchQpI/AAAAAAAAA5U/NAeMODihQp8/s1600/BEY_JAY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j14Uk2SKm68/TlxrmEchQpI/AAAAAAAAA5U/NAeMODihQp8/s1600/BEY_JAY.jpg" /></a></td></tr> <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://hovandb.tumblr.com/">via</a>]</td></tr> </tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Just watch:</div><br /><br /><br /><center><div style="background-color: black; width: 520px;"><div style="padding: 4px;"><embed allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" base="." flashvars="" height="288" src="http://media.mtvnservices.com/mgid:uma:video:mtv.com:684908/cp~id%3D1668979%26vid%3D684908%26uri%3Dmgid%3Auma%3Avideo%3Amtv.com%3A684908" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="512"></embed><br /><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 4px; padding: 4px; text-align: left;">Get More: <a href="http://www.mtv.com/ontv/vma/2011/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">2011 VMA</a>, <a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Music</a>, <a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/artist/knowles_beyonce/artist.jhtml" style="color: #439cd8;" target="_blank">Beyoncé</a></div></div></div></center></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-612861773920100791?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-72481979591583597722011-08-28T18:41:00.000-04:002011-08-28T18:41:08.391-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">This is an open letter to all the young women. You know, the ones watching old episodes of Sex and the City, dreaming of the day they can move to New York and live in Carrie Bradshaw's world. <br /><br />I just want to be clear - that world does not exist.<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody> <tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dvJyIY37wPA/Tlq7lScFFII/AAAAAAAAA5E/t7FyerQqDC0/s1600/sex-and-the-city-opening-credits-carrie-bradshaw-14407403-1064-800.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dvJyIY37wPA/Tlq7lScFFII/AAAAAAAAA5E/t7FyerQqDC0/s400/sex-and-the-city-opening-credits-carrie-bradshaw-14407403-1064-800.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr> <tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://deborahmyers.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer-and-city.html">via</a>]</td></tr> </tbody></table>At one point, I was you. Living in my sleepy little suburban town just outside of Boston, watching <a href="http://www.hbo.com/sex-and-the-city/index.html#/sex-and-the-city/index.html">Sex and the City</a> episodes all day long when I wasn't at work or shopping. And I slowly became obsessed with the idea of switching cities. I thought I was in the wrong one - I thought NYC was for me the way it was for Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha because of the way they <i><b>lived</b></i>. <br /><br />Then I moved here. I moved into the most disgusting 3-bedroom apartment in Queens with two random girls who couldn't speak English. At night, the bugs and rodents came out and I was convinced that this could't be real life. Certainly not Carrie's.<br /><br />When I moved into a new apartment with a <a href="http://anothergfblog.blogspot.com/">very nice (and gluten free) roommate</a>, I started trying to find Carrie's NYC. Almost every experience pointed to the fact that it wasn't real. At first, I discovered small reasons, like the fact that&nbsp;<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AhjCh6iZ1lI">Bed</a> is closed... apparently for a <a href="http://ny.eater.com/archives/2007/02/breaking_nightc.php">tragic</a> reason.&nbsp;<a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/coffee-shop-new-york-2#hrid:8-R60agAMb_iMlKmW1yomg">Coffee Shop</a> is not nearly as cozy and fun as it looks thanks to the rude hosts and hostesses who think they're models (as someone in the industry, I can safely say most are not).&nbsp;Bungalo 8 was actually a good time (<a href="http://chichi212.com/nyc-nightlife-bars-club/paul-kasmin-to-turn-bungalow-8-into-an-art-gallery/">before it closed</a>), despite Carrie running out. And <a href="http://magnoliabakery.com/home.php">Magnolia</a> cupcakes are completely worth the wait if you skip the tourist attraction in The Village.<br /><br />More importantly, no one has the funds to enjoy night after night out on the town with your girlfriends.&nbsp;Especially not&nbsp;aspiring&nbsp;writers who also have bills to pay (I speak from experience). And sure, there are happy hours to make a girl's night out more affordable, but they're so crowded that sometimes it's just not fun.<br /><br />And finally, sometimes New York is just not fun - mainly because it forces you to really examine the relationships in your life. You'll go through the ups and downs of boyfriends, fauxlationships, situationships, and just plain bad dates. You'll separate from good friends and then reunite. You'll love your job and then hate it, and maybe love it again. You'll realize you're going through a quarter-life crisis and question everything you've ever done. And you'll resent Carrie for the amazing times she portrayed on the small screen... And then you'll reach a plateau where you'll fall in love with everything again.<br /><br />As I sit in my bedroom post <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/search/%23HurricaneIrene">#HurricaneIrene</a> and watch a rerun of the&nbsp;<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ky8aSMx6K4Q">season finale</a>, I'm thankful. It shows&nbsp;my favorite protagonist walking down the street with You've Got the Love blasting in the background. I can't help but smile knowing that Carrie Bradshaw's New York City doesn't exist, but mine does. And that's pretty great.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7248197959158359772?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-45289617183031857332011-08-22T16:14:00.000-04:002011-08-22T16:14:21.642-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Well, you see... this life I lead is a tough one.<br /><br />I'm vacationing on Miami Beach with a dear friend from high school, indulging in everything I really can't afford. And while debt isn't sexy, Miami Beach is. So I'll be here for the next week, drinking too expensive coffee on my balcony at the <a href="http://www.loewshotels.com/en/Miami-Beach-Hotel">Loews Hotel</a> (jealousy inducing view below for your viewing pleasure), eating $16 sandwiches because they are the cheapest thing on the menu, and pretending I'm as rich as my European, accent donning, speedo wearing counterparts at the <span id="goog_1165089986"></span>Loews<span id="goog_1165089987"></span>, because that's what you do on vacation. The Simply Luxurious Life would be <a href="http://www.thesimplyluxuriouslife.com/p/money.html">so disappointed</a>.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IjjkltQYmgY/TlK3NcVQPRI/AAAAAAAAA4g/dRCHyM6eqFk/s1600/5b8236c31aea449b8d027172e5a3ff27_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IjjkltQYmgY/TlK3NcVQPRI/AAAAAAAAA4g/dRCHyM6eqFk/s640/5b8236c31aea449b8d027172e5a3ff27_7.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Ciao!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-4528961718303185733?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-69328542009372433082011-08-17T00:08:00.000-04:002011-08-17T00:08:48.736-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h4cqO0XErZM/Tks8iRSlDmI/AAAAAAAAA4A/GIiQWKT0Po4/s1600/68fec9da47954c15a289e2acb23576bc_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h4cqO0XErZM/Tks8iRSlDmI/AAAAAAAAA4A/GIiQWKT0Po4/s320/68fec9da47954c15a289e2acb23576bc_7.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>When Jay-Z <a href="http://lifeandtimes.com/surfs-up-new-york">wrote about</a> <a href="http://www.saturdaysnyc.com/">Saturdays Surf NYC</a> on his acclaimed lifestyle blog, Life + Times, I knew had to visit. My desire remained for two reasons: because I think anything that appears on <a href="http://lifeandtimes.com/">Life + Times</a> is instantly cooler, and because I drank the Hova Kool Aid. Regardless, the experience was everything I hoped it'd be, in an extremely understated way.<br /><br />Outside, men sat with their coffee cups and enjoyed the sun on their face in this strange turn for fall that the August weather has taken.<br /><br />Inside, the space is long and narrow.<br /><br />A model watched a man (unidentified to me) leaf through her portfolio and tap on the photos he favored as she outlined her previous experience.<br /><br />Customers talked <a href="http://www.saturdaysnyc.com/category/surfing">surfboards</a> and&nbsp;<a href="http://www.saturdaysnyc.com/category/art">paraphernalia</a>, never bristling once at the cost of a board (the least expensive ringing up at just under $700) or a <a href="http://www.saturdaysnyc.com/category/books">book</a>.<br /><br />The greatest thing about this little coffee and surf shop was the barista. Oddly handsome and slightly hairy, he charmed everyone that went by. Men, women, children, pets... it didn't matter.&nbsp;Everyone was friends, and like Cheers, everyone seemed to know your name. And if he didn't, he asked. He wanted to carry on some interesting banter about the weather or the "big time" amount of ice coffee they had behind the bar. He was a reminder that on a busy Tuesday afternoon in SoHo that there is always time for a genuine connection between two people... He was a reminder to slow down and smell the <a href="http://www.saturdaysnyc.com/item/sex-wax-surf-wax">surf wax</a>.<br /><br />So I did.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-6932854200937243308?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-54234240569913298152011-08-11T13:30:00.001-04:002011-08-11T16:43:25.449-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i><p>I read a <a href="http://knobslobbingfeminism.com/blog/?p=550">post</a> on a blog a while ago that outlined a few tips for women on proper sports season behavior. It was pretty funny, but got me thinking about the male perspective. So I obviously reached out to my favorite dude for a little advice and he basically sent me a <u>banging</u> guest post. Poignant, heartfelt, and hysterical, I couldn't let another day go by without sharing this with you. Ladies, listen up. Men, comment if you agree.</p><br />Without further ado, please enjoy this guest post by my boy <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/JaH_HoLLa">Jah</a> entitled: <b>The Five Mistakes Women Make During Sports Season</b></i><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jWd8bLdNE8c/TkQO-qn_Q-I/AAAAAAAAA34/Xu14vsYRgjY/s1600/football_tv_395x295.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jWd8bLdNE8c/TkQO-qn_Q-I/AAAAAAAAA34/Xu14vsYRgjY/s400/football_tv_395x295.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />Let me start out by saying that there are 4 types of women when it comes to sports:<br /><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>The TRUE sports fan: One that knows a sport(s), knows the players, and understands the game.</li> <li>The OCCASIONAL sports fan: Kinda keeps up sometimes, has a general interest but doesn’t try to pretend she is a wiz.</li> <li>The FAKE sports fan: The one who really knows nothing about sports... only knows a select few players, still thinks Michael Jordan is in the NBA, doesn’t know what a “touchdown” means, still thinks a quarterback is a refund (old school joke), cheers for whatever team is in the lead, roots for the team with the cutest players or the best uniforms, or the team the boy they like is going for…just plain annoying.</li> <li>The NON-sports fan: Does not care about sports at all… doesn’t even attempt to pretend she’s interested… would rather watch reality TV, read or sleep while games are on. She might sit and pretend to watch but her mind is certainly elsewhere.</li> </ol>Let me now say that it might be impossible for me to keep my list of mistakes at 5….but let’s try.<br /><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>If you have a husband/boyfriend/hookup that compromises with you more than enough, leave him alone when the game is on. If you want to sit and be supportive that is fine; however it is not your time to talk and ask a bunch of questions related/unrelated. Questions are mainly for before and/or after the game.</li> <li>It is not all about you. Do not constantly position yourself in front of the television when you don’t feel like you’re getting enough attention. I am pretty sure when games are not on, you get plenty. If not, that is a totally different issue (you might need a new man).</li> <li>Do not huff and puff, and make noises that show your disinterest. It is a personal problem if you can’t entertain yourself for the 2 hours the game is on. That does not mean you have to kill the excitement for us.</li> <li>DO NOT try to “get busy” while games are on. Fcuk you - go that way. I hate when girls try to get all sexy just to see if you will stop watching the game to play around with them. <b>There is a time and place for everything. </b> There's nothing worse than a girl trying to test you - and then she gets mad when you don’t stop everything you’re doing. Where is all of that sexy interest in me when <a href="http://www.hbo.com/sex-and-the-city/index.html">Sex &amp; the City</a> is on? Don’t worry I’ll wait...</li> <li>Understand that a man’s interests are exactly that. He loved sports before you got there, he’ll love them while you’re around, and if the relationship doesn’t last he’ll <i>still</i> love sports when you’re gone. Do everyone a favor and accept that. Stop trying to change guys into that ideal fantasy guy you dream up while you’re in LALA LAND. Nobody is perfect and I’m pretty sure the dude isn’t distracting you from some of the random nonsense you love to do.</li> </ol>If women can learn some of these important tips, a perfect season is in the near future. Compromise and acceptance are important. Ladies, leave guys alone when they’re in their zone. It actually works in your favor when you <i>aren’t</i> the annoying girlfriend. We'll want to spend more time with you later on.<br /><br />Oh, and do yourselves a favor. Stop having SUPERBOWL parties. You don’t have a CLUE what’s going on. #KNOCKITOFF</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-5423424056991329815?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-80146625429850573152011-08-05T20:54:00.000-04:002011-08-05T20:54:34.399-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I like to credit a lot of my wisdom to my Mother, who is the wisest mother anyone could ask for. She's full of little tidbits, whether you ask for them or not. Some of my favorites have turned into <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/04/im-waiting-to-exhale.html">posts</a> in the past and this one is no different.<br /><br />Over dinner at one of my <a href="http://www.melbasrestaurant.com/">favorite soul food spots</a> in Harlem with my Mom and my girl, <a href="http://theellaproject.com/">Larissa</a>, Mom indulged in a few rules on how to stay sane in relationships. My favorites had to do with travel. Now, she's on a cruise with my Father, and in the weeks leading up to it, she divulged in a few more tips.<br /><br />So here they are, Mom's Top Five Tips on How to Travel with Your Boo:<br /><br /><b>1. Just Do It</b><br />Yes, just like the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSIRl_aIsA8">Nike commercials</a>, when it comes to travel, my mother's rules are simple - just do it. She and her girlfriends have often found themselves proposing a travel idea to their husbands, only to receive answers like "I'm not sure I can take off work" or "I don't want to go away for that long." *side eye* The solution? Buy their ticket anyway. They'll come around. This is how my parents took a romantic trip to Ireland, a couples trip to South Africa, a week visiting me when I was abroad in London, and it's how they found themselves on a cruise right now. Works like a charm every time.<br /><br /><b>2. What You Packing?</b><br />In preparing for their cruise, Mom told Dad to lay his outfits on the guest bed for the trip. After weeks of peeking in on his progress, she found he'd only planned on bringing 4 t-shirts and some shorts. When asked to pick up a few items from the dry cleaner on the way home, Mom oblidged, and then packed the items in his suitcase under his 4-shorts and shorts. Instantly well packed!<br /><br /><b>3. We Dont Have To Fight</b><br />Eager to get everything started right - Mom noted that you never fight before you leave. It's just bad manners. If you've got something to say, say it once your plane has taken off. Swiftly. Then order a glass of wine and settle in for the flight. Everyone will be all smiles by the time you land.<br /><br /><b>4. Keep it Freestylin'</b><br />Upon landing in New Orleans just before their cruise, my parents realized their airline (American) had lost their luggage. Given only two <a href="http://www.artoshirt.net/catalog/toddtux.jpg">tuxedo t-shirts</a>, Mom and Dad enjoyed their cruise in matching outfits for almost a full week. When asked how it was going, her only answer was "We're cool. We're freestyling." <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ioegaKpUVrc/TjyN8392f3I/AAAAAAAAA3w/HDkwlbCL7xE/s1600/Travel-Agents.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="328" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ioegaKpUVrc/TjyN8392f3I/AAAAAAAAA3w/HDkwlbCL7xE/s640/Travel-Agents.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.grecotel.com/travel-agents_732.htm">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-8014662542985057315?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-57628143475970616522011-08-03T10:12:00.002-04:002011-08-05T21:59:04.579-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">You could call me an "emotional chick". My father does.<br /><br />I cry at (almost) everything. In fact, there's no way I can get through an episode of Grey's Anatomy without announcing to my roommate "I'm crying now" so we don't have to sit there in awkward silence while I try to discretely blow my nose and wipe my eyes.<br /><br />The sweetest sentiment can move me to tears. From a thoughtful comment by one of my girls to a "this made me think of you" trinket from my mother, tears are likely to bubble up quickly.<br /><br />With good news comes tears of joy. And goodbyes? Fuggetaboutit.<br /><br />But I'm writing this post because I'm convinced that living in New York, this beloved city, has broken me.<br /><br />Broken.<br /><br />I cry for them. The people we all so often come face to face with, begging for money with a song, a baby, an apology for the inconvenience.<br /><br />And when I hear the familiar sounds of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHc6gwCXZgU">a song I was raised on</a>, I find myself tearing up, reaching for my wallet, and giving anything I can afford to give.<br /><br />A blind man gets on your Astoria-bound N train with a beautiful, broad smile and starts serenading you. When he graciously thanks the man across from me who caught him as the train swerved and he couldn't see to find the pole to steady himself. And I find myself tearing up at the tragic scene, a happy, homeless man singing "What a Wonderful World" with nuances of Louis Armstrong - well, I'm convinced you do anything you can to make his song a reality. <br /><br />Perhaps this is the naivety of a girl raised in the suburbs of Boston... But my parents raised me well. And I know good music when I hear it.<br /><br /><br /><center> <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="510" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/SzJY96m3lkg" width="640"></iframe> </center><br /><br /><i>Written on my iPhone</i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-5762814347597061652?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-84688919858628558272011-07-27T23:52:00.000-04:002011-07-28T01:45:17.112-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I'm a little fascinated with the idea of cheating.&nbsp;</span></i></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QngyVyUuAxM/TjD1uyNusMI/AAAAAAAAA3o/ZOjR3iQkgRY/s1600/teaser13.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QngyVyUuAxM/TjD1uyNusMI/AAAAAAAAA3o/ZOjR3iQkgRY/s400/teaser13.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>so is he...</i></td></tr></tbody></table>I suppose this fascination began over a few beers with my girlfriends at Studio Square Beer Garden in Queens.&nbsp;My mentality, as the single one at the table, was "good luck to the dude who cheats on me." The rest of them weren't so quick to pull the trigger. The thought was that cheating in a serious, committed relationship, should warrant a more thorough evaluation of a relationship.&nbsp;In my mind, the issue was clear and cheating was a deal breaker. Both Margaret and Larissa spoke calmly, highlighting that there's simply more to consider. So, I took to the <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=interwebs">interwebs</a> to try and better understand why men cheat <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3wzXWMngHfQ/Tcaz5Y-voKI/AAAAAAAAAKg/PKUqAAfXExE/s1600/infidelity.jpg">(yes, they cheat more)</a>, and why women stay.<br /><br />I was immediately struck by an old interview with Sandi Jackson (wife of Jesse Jackson Jr). In 2008 news outlets exploded with the news of her husband's infidelity. She notes that when the Clinton scandal reached headlines, her initial thought was "Hillary should leave Bill." When faced with the situation in her own reality, Jackson notes: <br /><blockquote><i>"When the 'beast' lands at your door, it can be a very, very different experience. No one really knows what they are going to do until they are in that situation. When it happens to you it's amazing how what you once thought was black and white becomes variations of a color called gray."</i>{<a href="http://www.theroot.com/buzz/sandi-jackson-speaks-about-affair-seen-around-world">source</a>}</blockquote>I was intrigued with the idea that strict thinking could switch to a more open-minded stance. I took to Twitter, asking for more perspectives (in 140 characters or less) from the female mindset. Instead, I was&nbsp;inundated&nbsp;with emails and tweet-stories from my favorites. The prompt? <i>"<a href="https://twitter.com/#!/maiah">@maiah</a>: Is cheating within your dating/marriage deal breakers? Would you stay &amp; try to fix?" </i>Below are&nbsp;excerpts&nbsp;from the replies:<br /><br /><b>Allie:</b> As a firm believer in the sanctity of marriage and not using the "quick fix" of divorce that I feel many people tend to do... I don't think infidelity would be the catalyst that forces me to leave the marriage. I think I would work relentlessly to fix my relationship whether I was seriously dating or already married. Vows shouldnt be taken lightly as you pledge them before God and all the people that you love. In the same vain, with the seriousness of these vows your taking you shouldn't be cheating, but I digress.<br /><br /><b>Brittany:</b> My boss (a man) just told me, "well, wouldn't you think it's your fault why your husband is cheating?" <i>(mj commentary: pause.)</i> "Take Arnold for example. They said he was having a sex-less marriage. So, why wouldn't he cheat?" Girl! I can't! I met a guy, fell soo hard for this dude to find out he was married with two kids! I asked him, "how could you be married and telling your wife the same shit [you tell me]? This fool goes on to say that he's with her for their kids. Man, listen: if you're unhappy it's better to go your separate ways before it gets to the point where you want to cheat.<br /><br /><b>Shay:</b> It's a deal breaker. I'm not a believer in <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ULDq1AFImQ">appreciating what I have when it's gone</a>. My worth, sanity &amp; love means too much for that BS. Considering my last relationship: he cheated &amp; blatantly told me that he just "felt like doing it but regretted when he saw me hurt..." I was young, insecure, and wanted this older man to love me like I did him. So I stayed. Biggest mistake ever. Wasn't paranoid. Didn't check his stuff. Nothing. And that was the problem. I checked out. I wasn't me. So, after coming out or my zombie phase, being a little more assured in myself and never being the person who didn't learn from mistakes I vowed to let go. <b><i>I refuse to not see gain in ANYthing I invest in</i></b>. Relationships included.<br /><br />I was awestruck by these awesome women I call my friends. So many important key points are listed above but the top three resonate with me most. My initial black and white tunnel vision has dissipated somewhat. And regardless of whether or not I'm in a happy or troubled marriage in the future, I'll keep the following life lessons (courtesy of my girls) in mind:<br /><br /><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>The importance of vows and hard work.</li><li>Satisfaction (sex) matters.</li><li>Don't lose yourself.</li></ol><div><br /></div><div>Ladies, please let me know your thoughts on the subject!</div><div>And men, I want to hear from you too. Too harsh?</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-8468891985862855827?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-55105378046124500762011-07-24T22:06:00.003-04:002011-07-24T22:12:57.475-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">In my time exploring potential relationships (or enjoying situationships) I'd like to think I’ve learned a few things. Not just about myself or the other person, but about the little things that make relationships between men and women work (or not work).<br /><br />Initially, I didn’t think it would be a good move to share my tips and tricks (because then I’d have to kill you). But after a phone conversation filled with giggles and guffaws I realized this might be an interesting topic for more than just by best girlfriends. So here goes – <b><i>my top 3 tips for sleepovers</i></b>.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PIQRE4-CHD0/TizOyfZ1fcI/AAAAAAAAA3k/DtEaPexnB_0/s1600/423_dawsonjoey2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PIQRE4-CHD0/TizOyfZ1fcI/AAAAAAAAA3k/DtEaPexnB_0/s1600/423_dawsonjoey2.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joey &amp; Dawson could never get it right either!&nbsp;[<a href="http://www.dawsonscreek.com/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><b>Stay at his house</b><br />I know, I know. I prefer my house. We all do. Because boys aren't clean, and they aren't as aware of what women think is comfortable (seriously, what is up with men and leather seating? Leather couch + <a href="http://gawker.com/5823504/new-yorks-streets-are-actually-melting">NYC summer heat</a> ≠ comfort). However, I've learned that there's something about going to his place that makes men feel amazing. When I finally agreed to spend the night at an old situationship's apartment he walked around like a king. Literally. I can't quite figure it out but I think it has to do with being able to say "I'm fittin' to take her home".<br /><br /><b>Stay fresh</b><br />I’m a huge fan of the surprise “travel bag”. I call it a surprise because no one should know about it but you. Just pack a few small things in your purse and beef up the contents of your make up bag and you should be all set. My favorites? A toothbrush, a small travel deodorant, roll-on perfume (<a href="http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P160406">Sephora</a> has a great selection), sunglasses (so necessary for a rough Sunday morning), and panties. Keep in mind, the larger the purse, the more fun things you can bring without utilizing a travel bag. My <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2010/07/suburban-girl-shops-louis-vuitton.html">Louis Neverfull MM</a> does the trick perfectly!<br /><br /><b>Don't get <i>too</i> comfortable</b><br />I honestly think one of the most important things to remember is that his house is not your house. Don’t start cooking up a storm, definitely don’t clean up shit, and <i>definitely&nbsp;</i>don’t start leaving your stuff there like it’s okay without a major relationship talk first. This rule about comfort is the hardest one for me as I'm the kind of person who loves to give as much as I can. But I've learned through experience (and also while reading <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/abelleinbk">#BelleBook</a>) that the biggest downfall to a situationship is acting like it’s a relationship. <br /><br />What are your favorite tips for successful sleepovers?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-5510537804612450076?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-10476732049900300322011-07-12T11:11:00.002-04:002011-07-12T11:11:00.190-04:00I consider myself a rare breed. <br /><br />I’m an African American twenty-something woman who grew up in the suburbs of Boston. Though I currently live in NYC, my roots (no matter how bougie I may have become) are what made me, and I hold tight to those.<br /><br />In looking for things to relate to, I found there was a wide gap between Sex &amp; the City and Girlfriends. This gap also exists between Teri McMillian and Jeannette Walls. I was searching for someone like me represented in media and she was nowhere to be found.<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1T6keHXe0bA/Thu9WGjQs_I/AAAAAAAAA2Y/KrbZn6M2uQ4/s1600/Belle+Book+Cover+FINAL.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1T6keHXe0bA/Thu9WGjQs_I/AAAAAAAAA2Y/KrbZn6M2uQ4/s320/Belle+Book+Cover+FINAL.jpeg" width="211" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.abelleinbrooklyn.com/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>...Until my friend introduced me to Demetria Lucas. The blogger turned magazine editor turned author recently released A Belle in Brooklyn (of the same title as her award winning blog). Incredibly well written, this memoir takes you on a journey of Demetria’s life and experiences in NYC, Atlanta, California, and more. With each chapter reading like the beautiful prose found in some short stories, you can’t help but power through the book. As a person who prefers to read during her commute, I found myself laughing at her humor, nearly crying at her experiences, and often cringing at her honesty. Any book that results in that sort of real-life emoting is what I would categorize as a great read.<br /><br />Recommended for every-woman (and every-man), I think it’s impossible for anyone not to gather some sort of great takeaway from this novel. If you’re looking to live vicariously through the chapters of her crazy single life attending industry parties and awkward dinners with Shug: you win. If you’re looking for life lessons on how to “Live Your Best Singe Life”: you win. If you, like me, are looking for a middle ground media figure to relate to: you win.<br /><br />But most importantly, I'm realizing how necessary it is to surround yourself with successful role models constantly on their grind. Demetria has made her journey extremely accessible to those searching for that too. So you also win.<br /><br /><i><b>A Belle in Brooklyn: The Go-to-Girl for Advice on Living Your Best Single Life</i></b> is available in stores and online.<br /><br /><br /><i>Article first published as <a href='http://blogcritics.org/books/article/book-review-a-belle-in-brooklyn/'>Book Review: <i>A Belle in Brooklyn: The Go-to Girl for Advice on Living Your Best Single Life</i> by Demetria Lucas </a> on Blogcritics.</i><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1047673204990030032?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-90822227198760266392011-07-11T22:43:00.001-04:002011-07-11T22:49:48.039-04:00I find myself in Santa Barbara, California for work... and I find myself falling in love.<br /><br />Not with a boy, not with a dog, not with a band, but with the lifestyle. I’ve spent time enjoying palm trees as far as the eye can see, terracotta rooftops, cactus growing like shrubs, clear skies and amber sunsets as a backdrop to a sandy beach, and smiles on every street corner. Everything moves at a slower pace because no one is in a rush to do anything. A man on a street corner on the phone with his colleague was a rarity, and even then his conversation consisted of things like “I’m going to enjoy lunch and will get you an answer after my break.” The owners of an adorable Wine Tasting Room at the highest point of a pier off the Santa Barbara boardwalk talked passionately about their lives: <a href="http://www.conwayfamilywines.com/">their winery</a>, the berries, the fermentation, hints of blackcurrant, wet rock, and white floral. They tasted the wine with us, went on the journey with us, and handed over a handful of corks as a reminder of this casual moment within which we enjoyed each other’s silence.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pIHfB4VfMMk/ThuzfKQdKPI/AAAAAAAAA2M/d0B4QXexN1U/s1600/palm%2Btrees%2Bfor%2Bdays.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pIHfB4VfMMk/ThuzfKQdKPI/AAAAAAAAA2M/d0B4QXexN1U/s400/palm%2Btrees%2Bfor%2Bdays.jpeg" /></a></div><br />It’s a lifestyle I don’t find myself having the luxury of living in a city like New York City. Everything is urgent; every pace is rushed like a speeding car racing to get there first. Vacation is a distant thought, maybe even laughable because who has the time to take care of themselves? Lunches are always for working: taken at your desk or on the phone or skipped all together. Small business owners seem few and far between. Not content with their “small business” but looking for ways to become bigger, better. It’s never about sustaining. It’s about beating. And silence is uncomfortable.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-czuCDDsCfkk/ThuzfZia1iI/AAAAAAAAA2U/D1zw_08bIoY/s1600/speeding.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-czuCDDsCfkk/ThuzfZia1iI/AAAAAAAAA2U/D1zw_08bIoY/s400/speeding.jpeg" /></a></div><br />“This place, it’s like my home [Weston]... except on a beach!” I commented to my colleague over a glass of <a href="http://www.conwayfamilywines.com/product/2008-Deep-Sea-Pinot-Noir-Central-Coast?pageID=7883436a-c2c0-7e56-0c6f-3b8054206699&sortBy=DisplayOrder&">pinot noir</a> as we watched the sunset over the water and squealed every time a pelican took a dive or a seal came up to play. Everything was idyllic. I left Santa Barbara longing for the free-spirited passion displayed by those living there. <br /><br />We encountered numerous people talking fondly of “their years in New York” prior to moving to California. When asked would they ever return to NYC the answer was always an enthusiastic “No!” with a smile. The slower pace was calmer. Healthier. Easier.<br /><br />As I sit on a Delta Air Lines flight listening to an album entitled “Peace, Love, & Ukulele”, I can’t help but wonder: despite all I have been awarded since moving to NYC (trips to London, Dubai, Jordan, Aspen, and now California), is there more? Am I missing something?<br /><br />I’m on a journey to find out.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-9082222719876026639?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-5694949040452682232011-07-07T23:36:00.001-04:002011-07-07T23:36:52.749-04:00On&nbsp;Wednesday, July 6th, I joined the urban-glitterati, who were heading to the Financial District in hoards to celebrate the 2 year anniversary of the fabulous <a href="http://www.lovebrownsugar.com/p/about_28.html">Christina Brown</a> of the lovely blog, <a href="http://www.lovebrownsugar.com/">LoveBrownSugar</a>.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kua6PWaGNw8/ThZxe-wA1jI/AAAAAAAAA14/IZZo9Q2ni9M/s1600/LBS+2+Yr+Anniversary+Invite.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kua6PWaGNw8/ThZxe-wA1jI/AAAAAAAAA14/IZZo9Q2ni9M/s320/LBS+2+Yr+Anniversary+Invite.jpeg" width="188" /></a></div>The event was held at the very swanky Gild Hall at the Thompson Hotel. Greeted by 3 gorgeous women who all smiled happily as they checked my name off at the door, I slipped behind a velvet drape into a very sexy (read: manly) space.<br /><br />The sophisticated space enveloped me in dark woods and deep brown leathers while the urban-glitterati filtered through the space in bright color blocked outfits, floral frocks, and their favorite pumps.<br /><br />At the bar, we could indulge in champagne cocktails courtesy of Petiller and adorably petite cupcakes courtesy of <a href="http://desilusweets.com/">DesiLu Sweets</a>. The trickiest part of the night was trying to convince myself that just because the cupcake was bite sized didn't mean I could have 5. I had 5 anyway. Oops.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F4CrGF1iOr4/ThZ2U-zWIZI/AAAAAAAAA18/6-4VRP4d0ZI/s1600/63d92269604a47e28045e62573d61009_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F4CrGF1iOr4/ThZ2U-zWIZI/AAAAAAAAA18/6-4VRP4d0ZI/s200/63d92269604a47e28045e62573d61009_7.jpeg" width="200" /></a>My girls, <a href="http://theellaproject.wordpress.com/">Larissa</a>, Allison, and I caught up to the beats of DJ Icon (who I later found out is Mr. LoveBrownSugar, love!) by the bar. We escaped upstairs quickly to use the restroom and our evening ended in a brief iphone photoshoot for Allison's growing fashion blog, <a href="http://www.fiercelyfashionable.com/">Fiercely Fashionable</a>.<br /><br />I left the party with a stronger obsession over LoveBrownSugar and a lovely little giftbag with items from <a href="http://uptownmagazine.com/">Uptown Magazine</a>, <a href="https://www.indiquehair.com/indique/home.do">Indique</a>*, <a href="http://kinky-curly.com/">Kinky-Curly</a>, and <a href="http://www.specificbeauty.com/">SpecificBeauty</a> just for me.<br /><br />For more photos, check out <a href="http://www.lovebrownsugar.com/2011/07/kickin-it-lovebrownsugarcom-2-year.html">Christina's post</a> on her event or go to her <a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150234939452219.326478.265959727218">facebook page</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-569494904045268223?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-14874329456683232412011-07-05T01:16:00.000-04:002011-07-05T01:16:32.108-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fourth of July Edition!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(1)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D-bZn4NqiWI/ThKai5tol6I/AAAAAAAAA1c/75ANr1Rp1rU/s1600/Buffalo%2Bchicken%2Bmeatballs.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D-bZn4NqiWI/ThKai5tol6I/AAAAAAAAA1c/75ANr1Rp1rU/s400/Buffalo%2Bchicken%2Bmeatballs.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Buffalo Chicken Meatballs, <a href="http://www.wearenotmartha.com/2009/07/buffalo-chicken-meatballs/">recipe</a> from my <a href="http://www.wearenotmartha.com/about/about/">favorite foodies</a>, Sues and Chels over at <a href="http://www.wearenotmartha.com/">We Are Not Martha</a>. Clearly, these were spicy, but I live for Frank's Hot Sauce so they were a dream with every bite.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">(2)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3VbWGVmlRwM/ThKajPyxwSI/AAAAAAAAA1k/ZhGfCDeTgfw/s1600/Butter%2Bgarlic%2Blemon%2Bshrimp.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3VbWGVmlRwM/ThKajPyxwSI/AAAAAAAAA1k/ZhGfCDeTgfw/s400/Butter%2Bgarlic%2Blemon%2Bshrimp.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Garlic lemon shrimp, recipe&nbsp;courtesy&nbsp;of my mother who said "don't put anything in this other than butter, garlic, lemon, and shrimp." Lesson? Always listen to your mother, because this shrimp was a hit.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">(3)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1eAE29ftFNM/ThKajb4j3RI/AAAAAAAAA1s/rhJnkxAWy5w/s1600/Johnson%2Bfamily%2Bpotato%2Bsalad.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1eAE29ftFNM/ThKajb4j3RI/AAAAAAAAA1s/rhJnkxAWy5w/s400/Johnson%2Bfamily%2Bpotato%2Bsalad.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Johnson Family Potato Salad, recipe also courtesy of my mother. My favorite thing about her potato salad is how light it feels. Not nearly as creamy as what you might find at the supermarket, you might even trick yourself into thinking this is good for you. It's probably not.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">(4)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FeQf2GEV-bM/ThKaj7WqLtI/AAAAAAAAA10/TFUAoYyW_Nk/s1600/Done%2521.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FeQf2GEV-bM/ThKaj7WqLtI/AAAAAAAAA10/TFUAoYyW_Nk/s400/Done%2521.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />The finished product. I should have taken an after photo of the damage done by myself and my friends. My roommate rounded off our meal with the most amazing gluten free cake, which we topped with whipped creme, strawberries, and blueberries.<br /><br />We watched the fireworks from our rooftop in Astoria, Queens, which offers a 360 degree view of fireworks being set off throughout the city. From Macy's to home made explosives (eep!), it was a perfect night.<br /><br />Happy Fourth of July!<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">All photos taken with <a href="http://instaview.me/user/xoxomaiah/photos/">instagram</a>.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1487432945668323241?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-46182222371164560782011-07-01T01:49:00.003-04:002011-07-01T01:57:49.118-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As an avid reader of <a href="http://www.lovebrownsugar.com/">LoveBrownSugar</a>, I took <a href="http://www.lovebrownsugar.com/2011/06/youre-invited-style-scene-exhibit.html">her post</a> announcing this event to be a personal invitation for me to attend the Style Scene Exhibit at <a href="http://www.bar13.com/">Bar13</a>. Duh.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FPgyCL3KUSk/Tg1ZHsCvmtI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/mO2Sw1Lnlt4/s1600/258744_10150295513482110_394899987109_9762274_5887479_o.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FPgyCL3KUSk/Tg1ZHsCvmtI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/mO2Sw1Lnlt4/s400/258744_10150295513482110_394899987109_9762274_5887479_o.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I attended with my <a href="http://theellaproject.wordpress.com/">favorite</a> <a href="http://www.fiercelyfashionable.com/">girls</a> and had one of the best New York City Summer Nights... you know, the ones you look forward to as soon as the summer solstice hits? Yeah. One of those.<br /><br />Co-hosted by Christina of LoveBrownSugar and <a href="http://www.lowefactor.com/">Lowefactor</a>, the event was put together by <a href="http://thevictoriaagency.com/">The Victoria Agency</a>. Bar13 provided the drinks and a new company by the name of <a href="http://www.stuffyomouth.com/">Stuff Yo' Mouth</a> provided light bites (those sliders were to die for).<br /><br />I had hoped for an actual fashion presentation with live models and live fashion, but settled for imagery of each stylist's work scattered alongside the walls of the roofdeck. Young black New York (including my girl Carolyn of the super hip new brand, <a href="http://www.aliomi.com/">Aliomi</a>) was out in full force and the night progressed to the sounds of the city and glasses clinking at the bar.<br /><br />I left with a cute little giftbag with an issue of <a href="http://uptownmagazine.com/">Uptown Magazine</a> inside. My girls each left with their very own pair of <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/SBSHADES">Stevie Boi</a> shades (<b><i>straight up Snooki style</i></b>).<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R2kC6HWvXPY/Tg1eS9FVSAI/AAAAAAAAA1U/onNyY3hNuIE/s1600/71243ba891824db3ab4f0cb6d2777c43_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R2kC6HWvXPY/Tg1eS9FVSAI/AAAAAAAAA1U/onNyY3hNuIE/s400/71243ba891824db3ab4f0cb6d2777c43_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px;">©&nbsp;</span>writing with wine. taken with instagram, nashville filter.&nbsp;</span></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Summer time in New York City reminds me why I moved here - glad to kick if off with this great party by The Victoria Agency, LoveBrownSugar, and the Lowefactor.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-4618222237116456078?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-3521686829798557032011-06-28T23:26:00.001-04:002011-06-28T23:28:48.684-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The lovely Lauren over at <a href="http://everydaytorunway.com/">Everyday to Runway</a> sent me <a href="http://vimeo.com/25451551">this gem</a>&nbsp;while we were at work today. I've fallen completely in love.<br /><br />Enjoy.<br /><br /><br /><center><iframe frameborder="0" height="338" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/25451551?title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;portrait=0" width="600"></iframe><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://vimeo.com/25451551">Splitscreen: A Love Story</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/jwgriffiths">JW Griffiths</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Shot entirely on the Nokia N8 mobile phone.&nbsp;</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Winner of the Nokia Shorts Competition 2011.</span></center><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-352168682979855703?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-11701206290388027582011-06-26T11:03:00.026-04:002011-06-26T11:03:00.464-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(1)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cQ2dJbMymBw/TgYCaYj-qWI/AAAAAAAAA00/98IiEE57oGM/s1600/e02854811088464f973d982371de5117_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cQ2dJbMymBw/TgYCaYj-qWI/AAAAAAAAA00/98IiEE57oGM/s400/e02854811088464f973d982371de5117_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>Thank you to my company for forcing me on a walking tour of Brooklyn. Came across this vintage vehicle propped up on cement blocks, just aging the day away.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">(2)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-liP5G6q-4es/TgYCahf08ZI/AAAAAAAAA08/4jvkjJ3QLYE/s1600/95b97f9d2c834c4782b6cf2b00c7e1e8_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-liP5G6q-4es/TgYCahf08ZI/AAAAAAAAA08/4jvkjJ3QLYE/s400/95b97f9d2c834c4782b6cf2b00c7e1e8_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>Thank you, Brooklyn, for opening me up to the joys of antiquing. I'm in need of this gold trunk, but for now I'll settle for this image of a gorgeous vignette of trunks.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">(3)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7C45VHuzfyg/TgYCa1m10kI/AAAAAAAAA1E/PzfZWdheWvg/s1600/bb4594080d2e4085827464805484d93c_7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7C45VHuzfyg/TgYCa1m10kI/AAAAAAAAA1E/PzfZWdheWvg/s400/bb4594080d2e4085827464805484d93c_7.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>Thank you, <a href="http://www.mondriansoho.com/en-us/#/home/">Mondrian SoHo</a>, for hosting my Cle de Peau event. Every minute spent in production was almost as stunning as this gorgeous sunset.<br /><br />And thank you, New York, for legalizing gay marriage. Though I spent the evening at home in Boston with family, I could feel the outcry <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/search/NY%20gay%20marriage">on Twitter</a>, so I can only imagine the excitement in the city.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1170120629038802758?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-83342221327754421692011-06-25T18:01:00.001-04:002011-06-25T18:02:26.621-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b>The chapter* starts like this:</b><br /><i></i><br /><blockquote><i>[Devin] told me about a woman he met at the club. She wore a long (good) weave, a tight dress, makeup, and high heels. In a relatively sober state, Devin exchanged numbers with her early in the night. The next week, they talked on the phone, and he deduced she was “cool.” When he finally met up with her for drinks at Ava Lounge on the rooftop of the Dream hotel, she had on flats, her hair pulled back, a cute casual shirt and jeans and was wearing little makeup. She’d just come from the office. They hung out for the night, but he never called her again.</i><br /><i>“She was a visual liar,” he explained.</i></blockquote><i>A visual liar? </i>I thought to myself...<i> this can’t be real.</i><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TQZWk_Mtl8I/TgZZgbxFODI/AAAAAAAAA1I/ceTBg0ZAIyc/s1600/HowIMetYourMother.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TQZWk_Mtl8I/TgZZgbxFODI/AAAAAAAAA1I/ceTBg0ZAIyc/s400/HowIMetYourMother.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BedmateReveal">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>So, I went about constructing my own Male Mind Squad (a group of men who form Demetria Lucas' sounding board), expect it’s much smaller and will from here on out be called my Male Choir. Well... It's actually a (well rounded) Male Duo of just just <a href="http://thepostcool.com/">Du</a> and <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/JaH_HoLLa">Jah</a> but the sentiment is the same.<br /><br />Over hookah, I laid out the scene above, but added my own embellishments (black girl bun, boring jeans and a t), and waited for Du’s response.<br /><br />“Just be prepared to know you <i>(aka women)</i> would be taking a huge L.” No further&nbsp;explanation. Just plain and clear.<br /><br /><i>Damn. Really?</i> I couldn’t understand! I love to get dressed up on a Saturday night, but also enjoy a cold beer in jeans and a tee for Wednesday happy hour. Is this mesh of "lives" really such a huge faux paux?<br /><br />I later took this question to Jah, who said “Everyone is guilty of going a little further and doing a little extras to make an impression on a significant other. It’s natural to want to look good and do things that will possibly ensure your date goes well and that it leads to a relationship of some sort… But can you imagine going to sleep next to a princess and waking up next to a mud duck? It’s not okay.”<br /><br />Now this is why I love my budding male chorus – blunt, honest, and to the point. <br /><br />Both Jah and Du agreed that there’s a time and a place for the jeans-and-t girl, and the little-black-dress girl. What’s even better? “A girl that can switch it up and still catch my attention. I like heels, flats, sneakers, jeans, leggings, skirts, and dresses. There is definitely room for both in my opinion.”<br /><br />It seems like there's a balance that needs to be found between wanting to impress and wanted to&nbsp;realistically&nbsp;find &amp; keep someone.&nbsp;After hashing it out with my boys, I decided to &nbsp;to the big guns, Jamie, Editor of the super cool online magazine for guys entitled <a href="http://thedudesociety.com/">Dude Society</a>. If Jah and Dushane are my chorus (read: duo), then Jamie is the conductor. He doles out the following tips/things to consider for those looking to meet their future mate:<br /><blockquote><b>On meeting people:</b> For men and women, if you are looking for a relationship, the chances of meeting that person when you're "going out" for the night to a bar, or club, or where ever, is slim. It's loud, it's crowded, &amp; people are putting on an act. So, if you meet a dude in this context, even if a date is arranged, the chance of it panning out is really a roll of the dice.<br /><br /><b>On staying true: </b>Yes, there are some dudes who like women who are caked in makeup and a bunch of other crap, but most women probably aren't looking for that guy. In my opinion, <b>when you are dressing up to go out, put on the dress and the shoes, and a little makeup... <i>but make sure it's not covering up who you are.</i></b><br /><br /><b>On where to meet them:&nbsp;</b>I believe, in reality, most women (and probably men too) would rather meet someone in day-to-day life. Make a joke and start talking in an elevator, ask a guy to help you pick the best fruit at the grocery store, offer a woman your seat on the train/bus... simple things that we all do. We'd all much rather tell the story of "the most awesome girl/guy we met at the store who was really funny" as opposed to "the guy I gave my number to who was trying to dry-bang me on the dance floor in between downing beers." <i>{Is there <b>anyone</b> out there who doesn't agree with this?}</i><br /><br /><b>On preference:&nbsp;</b>In terms of what look men prefer... this is totally subjective and contextual. I don't like women who totally overdo it with makeup, but at the same time I don't like frumpy looking chicks either. <i>{A much nicer way of referring to those "mud ducks" referenced above}.</i></blockquote>My takeaway is this - stay true to you, stay open and honest, and feel free to switch it up.<br /><br /><b><i>What about you? Any misleading experiences with women or unfortunate dates with disappointed men?</i></b><br /><br /><i>*&nbsp;Excerpt&nbsp;from the chapter entitled, "Deal Breakers" in A Belle in Brooklyn by Demetria Lucas.</i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-8334222132775442169?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-70706936297062115292011-06-16T20:45:00.000-04:002011-06-16T20:45:08.938-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">On Wednesday, June 16th, I was invited to attend the <a href="http://www.ashfootwearusa.com/">ASH</a> Flagship Store Opening.<br /><br />Seriously such a treat, I was able to indulge in a liquid diet of champagne provided by <a href="http://www.feuillatte.com/">Nicholas Feuillatte</a>. For those eating, The Bubble Lounge provided super cute canapes. <a href="http://www.whittemorehousesalon.com/">The Whittemore House Salon</a> (a seriously stunning space in the West Village) provided stylists offering cute hair braids and fun feather accents.<br /><br />And even more exciting, the night offered a super how crowd including the super sweet <a href="http://www.lovebrownsugar.com/2011/06/kickin-it-ash-flagship-opening-with.html">Christina of LoveBrownSugar</a> and always fierce <a href="http://fashionbombdaily.com/2011/06/16/claires-life-norma-kamali-resort-2012-the-ash-store-opening-with-solange-and-adrienne-bailon/">Claire of The Fashion Bomb</a>. Additionally, appearances by the gorgeous Solange Knowles and Adrienne Bailon rounded the night off right. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uOAC98g1HFM/TfqPsR3pgrI/AAAAAAAAA0U/eyfbDcCTdDw/s1600/IMG_5655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uOAC98g1HFM/TfqPsR3pgrI/AAAAAAAAA0U/eyfbDcCTdDw/s400/IMG_5655.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jePkbHCC568/TfqPsm7HFVI/AAAAAAAAA0c/YAckSKLlUE4/s1600/IMG_5657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jePkbHCC568/TfqPsm7HFVI/AAAAAAAAA0c/YAckSKLlUE4/s400/IMG_5657.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CfhGTOMJDVs/TfqPs73MTPI/AAAAAAAAA0k/rN1GvpqxVJw/s1600/IMG_5652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CfhGTOMJDVs/TfqPs73MTPI/AAAAAAAAA0k/rN1GvpqxVJw/s400/IMG_5652.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">[Don't mind my amateur photography skills, I'm just trying to work it out!]</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Beyond the fun atmosphere, I was entirely smitten with the great shoes and accessories. All of the pieces were interesting, and studded to perfection, but I completely die over the Vera handbag.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DQQ1KlUNk1c/TfqiDojKf2I/AAAAAAAAA0s/zpeic8StOtA/s1600/vera_ino_miel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DQQ1KlUNk1c/TfqiDojKf2I/AAAAAAAAA0s/zpeic8StOtA/s320/vera_ino_miel.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[photo via the ASH digital look book]</td></tr></tbody></table>For even better images of the event, check out the photos uploaded to LoveBrownSugar's <a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150210517532219.319666.265959727218&amp;l=d8d97a7dea">facebook</a> page. And be sure to swing by the new store which can be found behind a cute little storefront at 44 Mercer in SoHo New York.<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7070693629706211529?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-17399426211770448792011-06-15T01:12:00.000-04:002011-06-15T01:12:54.067-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Sometimes, I have a very hard time explaining to friends what makes something so incredible to me. For example, when a friend told me she couldn't get through a book I practically forced her to read, I simply exclaimed, "well then you're reading it wrong!" Clearly. What else could be the problem?<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VV7Lo15D9aE/Tfgvu08eHnI/AAAAAAAAA0I/XqaWu9CrWY4/s1600/SJP_The+Help%252BThe+Frisky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VV7Lo15D9aE/Tfgvu08eHnI/AAAAAAAAA0I/XqaWu9CrWY4/s400/SJP_The+Help%252BThe+Frisky.jpg" width="282" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.thefrisky.com/post/246-quick-pic-sarah-jessica-parker-tries-not-to-notice-the-paparazzi/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>However, in the same conversation, we discussed <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Help-Kathryn-Stockett/dp/0425232204/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1229704607&amp;sr=8-1">The Help</a>, which none of my friends were having trouble reading. I must admit, the book caught my eye back in 2009 when Sarah Jessica Parker (the love of my life) was spotted around New York City with the book in tow.<br />I'll spare you the length of an actual book review, because by now, you should know that the <a href="http://www.kathrynstockett.com/index.htm">Kathryn Stockett</a> novel is a #1 New York Times Bestseller, critically acclaimed by newspapers, magazines, celebrities, and authors alike.<br /><br />The book is set in Jackson, Mississippi in the early 1960's, the story takes readers on a journey through the eyes of three narrators. Two of which are Black maids for White households, the third is a White woman who decides to tell their story. For a full synopsis of the book, check out Stockett's website <a href="http://www.kathrynstockett.com/stockett-synopsis.htm">here</a>. If you're one of those people who don't actually read books, well then I feel sorry for you. But - all is not lost. The excitement and following of <i>The Help</i> has lead to a major movie deal! Hitting theatres this August, people are eager and excited for the novel to hit the big screen.<br /><br />Demetria Lucas of A Belle in Brooklyn had the opportunity to see an advance screening of the film, which left her feeling a number of feelings, some bad and others good. Lucas brings up <a href="http://www.abelleinbrooklyn.com/blog/2011/4/24/the-help-a-non-review-no-spoilers.html">a good point</a> that there are some undeniable feelings behind the fact that his is a book is a depiction of the Black struggle of the 1960's by a White woman. Additionally, Stockett now faces a <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Health/lawsuit-black-maid-ablene-cooper-sues-author-kathryn/story?id=12968562">lawsuit</a> filed by Ablene Cooper, who says Stockett based her main character, Aibileen Clark, on her. Nothing like a good lawsuit to continue garnering press for an already good thing. <br /><br />Back to the point: I can't wait to see the movie! Check out the trailer below, and photos from the film, all courtesy of DreamWorks.<br /><br /><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/3eajzW3XW7Q" width="560"></iframe></center><br /><br /><br />Directed by Tate Taylor, <i>The Help</i> boasts a cast including Emma Stone, Bryce Dallas Howard, Mary Steenburgen, Sissy Spacek, Octavia Spencer, and, my favorite, Viola Davis as Aibileen Clark. It's sure to be one of those tear you down and build you up feel good movies - I can tell by the trailer.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SRggvtOuSaY/Tfg-O0wgIsI/AAAAAAAAA0M/-kGWG-jMO4Q/s1600/TheHelp+One+Sheet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SRggvtOuSaY/Tfg-O0wgIsI/AAAAAAAAA0M/-kGWG-jMO4Q/s1600/TheHelp+One+Sheet.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[DreamWorks]</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Have you read or plan on reading the help? If not, will I see you at the movies? <br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1739942621177044879?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-80876802879318275662011-06-11T22:07:00.021-04:002011-06-11T22:21:21.734-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">About a month ago, I found myself at the Apple Store <a href="http://www.apple.com/retail/geniusbar/">Genius Bar</a> on 5th Avenue. My iPhone decided it didn't want to work anymore and I was in a total tizzy trying to figure out how to get it fixed. My white knight in shining armor was Mark. He set me up with a new 3GS thanks to my Apple Care and as we were talking about how to set it up, the room exploded into applause.<br /><br />"What's happening!" I shouted over the whoops. Turns out it was someone's last day and they were being sent off with a goodbye fit for Kanye. "Makes me want to work for Apple," I said and he just smiled. Apparently, this was a normal goodbye for someone who had worked hard and was moving on to their next venture.<br /><br />It had me thinking about the power of letting someone go - this applies not only to the workplace, but to friendships and relationships. Because there's growth (and beauty) in the breakdown.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Alfcjx5AnGw/TfQdxX8v1cI/AAAAAAAAA0A/bsILqwm1F1s/s1600/movie-review-photo-_-the-break-up-screen-savor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="377" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Alfcjx5AnGw/TfQdxX8v1cI/AAAAAAAAA0A/bsILqwm1F1s/s640/movie-review-photo-_-the-break-up-screen-savor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://prodigalfilmstudent.wordpress.com/2011/02/14/f-valentines-day-movie-guide/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>Break ups are hard. All kinds. For example: leaving your place of work for a new opportunity is a bittersweet moment. You find yourself "breaking up" with your boss, your supervisor(s), your favorite colleagues and work friends through a "letter of resignation" which could be seen as the text message equivalent. Searching on Google for perhaps some sort of online support leads to articles on how to leave your job "gracefully" or "on good terms" or "with dignity", signifying that this is a negative thing. And when you do go through the process, you find people asking "why?" rather than shouting their congratulations. It's odd that the parting is strained when I believe a good working relationship <i>should</i> mean well wishes all round. You have to let me go.<br /><br />Again, break ups are hard. You break up with someone, only to find them texting, tweeting, calling (you know men <i>never</i> delete phone numbers), and always appearing. They act like it's completely normal and you spend every day just worried they're going to show up unannounced, <i>again. </i>You spend time confused because when you break up with someone, you expect it to be a clean and swift break. You plan for him to be ripped off like a band aid, but instead you find that sticky residue on your arm, asking you to hang out, or hugging you at a party when you least expect it. More break up conversations ensue, and all the time you were supposed to have spent healing, was spent going through the motions of an awkwardly long break up. You have to let me go.<br /><br />I've been trying to figure out how one can have a clean break up. From closure conversations to exit interviews, it can all just get very messy. But after a post by my girl over at <a href="http://theellaproject.wordpress.com/2011/06/10/closure-whats-that/">The Ella Project</a> and a tweet from the ever-fabulous <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/bevysmith">Bevy Smith</a> (via the teachings of <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/abelleinbk">Demetria Lucas</a> and her new book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Belle-Brooklyn-Go-Advice-Living/dp/1451606311">A Belle in Brooklyn</a>), I decided the answer relies on your own strength.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yLZScf2P2OE/TfQfIyx9JVI/AAAAAAAAA0E/rs_VUm9Ab-c/s1600/bevytweet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yLZScf2P2OE/TfQfIyx9JVI/AAAAAAAAA0E/rs_VUm9Ab-c/s1600/bevytweet.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/bevysmith/status/79574912326569984">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>When I began writing this post, I intended to place all blame on the "other party" whoever or whatever that may be. In talking to my mother about this recently, I complained about the options, none of which seem all that great. Leave a company and find yourself blacklisted. Leave a boyfriend and yet, you can't ever really let go. Her response was a brief one, <i>"Those things aren't the point, Maiah. <b>You have to make it work for you! Just you.</b>"</i> So, I suppose the title, "You Have to Let Me Go" is not just to employers or ex-boyfriends, but to myself. Because if I can't let go, I'll never get on. <br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-8087680287931827566?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-40023257637570317612011-06-09T23:34:00.001-04:002011-06-10T01:18:45.542-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="http://www.ericabauermeister.com/">Erica Bauermeister</a> is one of those authors who just resonates with me. After reading her <i><a href="http://www.ericabauermeister.com/books">The School of Essential Ingredients</a></i> (read the review <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/04/book-review-school-of-essential.html">here</a>), I knew she would instantly hold the title of my favorite author. This is no small feat, as I find it nearly impossible to narrow down anything or anyone to a favorite.<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NWtLR-j_c2M/TfGoZCNIf8I/AAAAAAAAAz8/PSJUZxB6UeA/s1600/9851860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NWtLR-j_c2M/TfGoZCNIf8I/AAAAAAAAAz8/PSJUZxB6UeA/s400/9851860.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9851860-joy-for-beginners">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>Upon finishing that book, I found myself speaking more eloquently, seeking out the beauty in life, and researching cooking classes in NYC. As I actively searched for beautiful writing reminiscent of Bauermeister's in other novels or blogs, I happily embraced the delivery of a little treat from the kind folks over at <a href="http://us.penguingroup.com/static/pages/publishers/adult/putnam.html">Putnam Books</a>. Enclosed was an uncorrected proof of her new novel, set to be released June 8th. The whole experience made me feel fancy, and immediately began reading.<br /><br />I was somewhat wary, knowing that sometimes you can have an incredibly romantic experience with one book, but nowhere near the same magic with an author’s sophomore release. However, I am so happy to report that is not the case with <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/0399157123?tag=pageturners0c&amp;link_code=as3&amp;creativeASIN=0399157123&amp;creative=373489&amp;camp=211189">Joy for Beginners</a></i>. Once again, I found myself marking up the margins with notes, highlighting and dog-earring my favorite passages, and having strong emotional reactions to the characters and their stories.<br /><br />The book takes you on a journey through a moment in time for seven women, one of which is a cancer survivor. Kate, the survivor, finds herself challenged to take a risk by her daughter, and in return challenges her six best friends. We are then seamlessly brought into the lives of Caroline, Daria, Sara, Hadley, Marion, and Ava. Their challenges (which varied from gardening to tattooing) are both life changing and everlasting; each chapter left me weepy with hopefulness.<br /><br />The thing I love most about Bauermeister's work is that suddenly a chapter, a character, a moment sneaks up on you. You catch yourself gazing off with thoughts about how the story circles back to your own reality with tears in your eyes and a hand over your heart (honestly, I have caught myself in this pose numerous times reading her writing). You scribble "love!" or "beautiful" across a page and close it briefly. And you smile at the feeling it leaves you with. This is the sort of visceral reaction <i>Joy for Beginners</i> caused me to have.<br /><br />Incredibly moving, inspirational, and stunning to read, <i>Joy for Beginners</i> is a must-own because you'll simply love it too much to not have it in your possession forever.<br /><br /><blockquote>"You know," Marion said, "I met a woman once when I was a teenager. I knew she had gone through a lot but she was so strong, so compassionate. I asked her how she could be the way she was, and you know what she told me?"<br /><br />Hadley shook her head.<br /><br />"She said, 'You can be broken, or broken open. That choice is yours.'"</blockquote><br /><i>Article first published as <a href="http://blogcritics.org/books/article/book-reviewjoy-for-beginners-by-erica/">Book Review:<i>Joy for Beginners</i> by Erica Bauermeister</a> on Blogcritics.</i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-4002325763757031761?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-53671054331759189622011-06-05T17:05:00.000-04:002011-06-05T17:05:15.289-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I've come across this lovely little "movement" started by Tatiana over <a href="http://www.lovelifelace.com/">Love, Life, Lace</a>. Her blog is full of eye-candy, from delicious outfits to delicious meals, to an adorable hubby.<br /><br />But even more - you can tell how happy she is, and how thankful she is for all of life's little blessings. Hence, <a href="http://www.lovelifelace.com/p/weekly-gratitude.html">Weekly Gratitude</a>, which reminds bloggers (and normal people) everywhere to take a moment for "self reflection, thankfulness and peace." I decided I needed to take part because it's so easy to get lost in negativity. This is a weekly reminder to myself of all the beautiful things life offers - from the smallest of glances to the largest of gestures.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I'm officially a: </div><br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.lovelifelace.com/p/weekly-gratitude.html"><img border="0" src="http://i42.photobucket.com/albums/e341/Ckulakov/Picture7.png" /></a> </center><center><br /></center><br /><div style="text-align: left;">And so we begin:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rfi01Q68thE/TevvERaTOlI/AAAAAAAAAz4/AS2qBOsmOG0/s1600/-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rfi01Q68thE/TevvERaTOlI/AAAAAAAAAz4/AS2qBOsmOG0/s400/-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Thank you for beautiful sunsets enjoyed during an after-work Happy Hour at a beautiful rooftop bar. They make me feel like I'm really living the "New York experience", whatever that means.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Bcl54VFSuw/TevtayMLZwI/AAAAAAAAAzw/u38malCQ9iY/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Bcl54VFSuw/TevtayMLZwI/AAAAAAAAAzw/u38malCQ9iY/s400/-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Thank you to my favorites for allowing me an impromptu trip to our Alma Matter by the sea, Connecticut College. The fireworks were the perfect kick off to an incredible weekend.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ul272AOtBFc/TevtgPususI/AAAAAAAAAz0/1wPPeZiI5n4/s1600/3e8960992eef4298847dc18be71f9bbb_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ul272AOtBFc/TevtgPususI/AAAAAAAAAz0/1wPPeZiI5n4/s400/3e8960992eef4298847dc18be71f9bbb_7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Thank you to the person who left this Keep Calm &amp; Carry On pendant on the small ledge by the stoop of a random building on my block. It was the perfect reminder to keep it moving.<br /><br /><br />(Also, thank you <a href="http://www.latenightwithjimmyfallon.com/blogs/thank-you-notes/">Jimmy Fallon</a>, who I imagine speaking these "thank you's" in that voice from his late night show).</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-5367105433175918962?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-32862394622867561532011-05-31T23:44:00.000-04:002011-05-31T23:44:37.517-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">...I really do.<br /><br />And to hear about a failed love, or a love gone wrong (they are different) really breaks my heart. In a perfect world (like the one I grew up in, within which I have two parents who are more in love now than ever), I would imagine everyone is in love like the people who live (or work) in the building depicted in this image... so in love they had to shout it from (or write it on) the rooftops.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CWB0rMJqZZA/TeWzp3yRL_I/AAAAAAAAAzs/JuW_tD6K6Wg/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CWB0rMJqZZA/TeWzp3yRL_I/AAAAAAAAAzs/JuW_tD6K6Wg/s640/-1.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Love You" written on a building just below the <a href="http://www.mondriansoho.com/en-us/">Mondrian SoHo</a>. I love the effort to spread love.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-3286239462286756153?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-47076880686684833372011-05-26T23:11:00.002-04:002011-05-26T23:12:46.242-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I sort of love this little writing prompt. Though it doesn't actually result in much writing at.all. #Womp.<br /><br />Anyway, here are my favorite things this week!<br /><br /><b>Lazy Random Days Off</b><br /><br /><br /><center><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0yvgfv-SkQ4/Td8EVWtyosI/AAAAAAAAAzc/JdNgAlEiTjA/s1600/lazy%252Bsunday%252B-%252Bagentbauer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="277" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0yvgfv-SkQ4/Td8EVWtyosI/AAAAAAAAAzc/JdNgAlEiTjA/s400/lazy%252Bsunday%252B-%252Bagentbauer.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://elegantabode.blogspot.com/2011/05/lazy-sunday.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table></center><br />After an incredibly busy month of events (my own and volunteering at others), I have finally had a day to just relax. I was able to do normal things like go to the post office, which is always closed by the time I get out of the office. I spent time walking around the city, then walking around Queens. I bought a new wrap dress and tried it on with new shoes. These are the things you can do when there's no expiration date on your laze. Seriously, one of the best weekdays I've had in quite a while.<br /><br /><b>Karmin Music</b><br /><br /><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/khCokQt--l4" width="560"></iframe></center><br /><br /><br />Okay, okay, fine. They're old news by now, but that doesn't mean I still don't find them absolutely incredible. Even more important (and what makes this post relevant) is that this duo has <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/karminmusic/status/73889312416079872">just scored a record deal</a>! Love! <br /><br /><b>Mom &amp; Dad</b><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r90puMKA9f4/Td8RrqHOVeI/AAAAAAAAAzk/sCOYewW4jo4/s1600/overnight-730753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r90puMKA9f4/Td8RrqHOVeI/AAAAAAAAAzk/sCOYewW4jo4/s400/overnight-730753.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.from-london-with-love.com/2011/03/sign-on-my-way-to-work.html">via</a>]<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>When things don't go as planned, it's hard to get backup and keep trying. I've got a really strong support group behind me thanks to Mom and Dad, both of whom have helped keep things moving. <br /><br /><i>What to see what else I've been coveting? Check the <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/search/label/iCovet">iCovet</a> tag.</i><br /><br />xo<i> </i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-4707688068668483337?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-37253643947490603342011-05-25T19:13:00.002-04:002011-05-25T23:04:00.283-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I have a huge problem. <br /><br />I have spent the past week crying. It's really not my fault. But every time I watch a Farewell to <a href="http://www.oprah.com/oprah_show.html">The Oprah Show</a> episode, I explode into tears. You see - I'm a fairly sentimental person. If you say something nice, I'll likely get a little watery so perhaps this is the main cause for the blubbering that happens every time I watch Grey's Anatomy or even the Sex &amp; the City Movie scene where Carrie beats Big with her wedding flowers.<br /><br />However, I'm crying this time because it's really <i>the end of an era</i> with The Oprah Show coming to a close after 25 years of greatness.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pJ_iN-AIjNY/Td1l1pus8hI/AAAAAAAAAzM/pJCp8ICCisI/s1600/20110523-tows-finale-graphic-1-424x239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pJ_iN-AIjNY/Td1l1pus8hI/AAAAAAAAAzM/pJCp8ICCisI/s400/20110523-tows-finale-graphic-1-424x239.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></center><br /><br />Like many others, I grew up watching Oprah. My initial aspirations of being a journalist stemmed from watching her show. I went on to participate in an internship at Boston's WCVB TV's Chronicle, a nightly newsmagazine, which has been on air since before I was born. I landed the internship through a stellar interview within which I told them I wanted to be just like Oprah and my mother when I grew up. So Oprah, she's not just some television host for me, she's an inspiration.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dSY75zgM870/Td2MwQYbr1I/AAAAAAAAAzU/9Xix9uucjRo/s1600/Screen%252Bshot%252B2011-05-25%252Bat%252B11.07.16%252BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dSY75zgM870/Td2MwQYbr1I/AAAAAAAAAzU/9Xix9uucjRo/s400/Screen%252Bshot%252B2011-05-25%252Bat%252B11.07.16%252BAM.png" width="400" /></a></div></center><br /><br />So as I watch this bittersweet farewell season of Oprah, I can't help but cry when she cries, and laugh when she laughs (and buy what she buys).<br /><br />The great thing about endings is that they allow for new beginnings. When one door closes, a window of opportunity opens. Oprah's is <a href="http://www.oprah.com/own">OWN</a>, a network on which I'll get my Oprah fix daily. She'll keep living her number one rule: "live your best life" and thanks to her, I will live mine.<br /><br />Thank you, Oprah, for your 25 years of dedication, love, and guidance. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-3725364394749060334?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-90428472911273557292011-05-23T23:18:00.002-04:002011-05-24T08:34:56.071-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Once, <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/03/work-play.html">I pretended</a> to be a fashion blogger. It was pretty fun. Tonight, I decided to pretend that I'm a food blogger. I'm pretty full.<br /><br />In taking <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/04/psa-single-ladies-listen-up.html">a page out of my own book</a>, I decided to switch it up and make something different for dinner tonight. I came across a mouthwatering post over at <a href="http://www.howsweeteats.com/">How Sweet It Is</a> and knew the meal was destined for my stomach. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zpBgPtSnDyQ/TdsgfCqM0fI/AAAAAAAAAy8/Vwh4dR2iZc4/s1600/881d45f3902144379d8dbe05082cef12_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zpBgPtSnDyQ/TdsgfCqM0fI/AAAAAAAAAy8/Vwh4dR2iZc4/s400/881d45f3902144379d8dbe05082cef12_7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />She calls it Creamy Caprese Pasta and it is every bit as delicious as *<a href="http://www.howsweeteats.com/2011/05/creamy-caprese-pasta/">her photos</a>* make it look. My photos make it look rustic and (maybe) artistic because I don't have a real camera. Instead, I have to use my iPhone with a fancy <a href="http://instagr.am/blog/">Instagram</a> filter to distract you from the fact that I am camera-less.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uxn11Pp95fc/TdsgffAPUEI/AAAAAAAAAzE/lh3JolzxQBo/s1600/dd7b6f881c5744d281e93b87193abb37_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uxn11Pp95fc/TdsgffAPUEI/AAAAAAAAAzE/lh3JolzxQBo/s400/dd7b6f881c5744d281e93b87193abb37_7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Visit <a href="http://www.howsweeteats.com/2011/05/creamy-caprese-pasta/">How Sweet It Is</a> for the recipe. And then make it tomorrow. I promise you won't regret it.<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-9042847291127355729?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-5003555608487904292011-05-23T00:12:00.000-04:002011-05-23T00:12:32.653-04:00Just like everyone else I simply cannot get enough of the <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/frank_ocean">Frank Ocean</a> <a href="http://www.getrightmusic.com/2011/02/25/mixtape-frank-ocean-nostalgiaultra/">Nostalgia,Ultra mixtape</a>. If you aren't listening, you clearly don't have internet or friends. Womp. Luckily for you, I've mentioned it here, which means you should go <a href="http://hulkshare.com/3qv7tv8v5qgc">download it now</a>, and pretend you were in the loop from the get go.<br /><br />Now that we've gotten that out the way, let's get back to the purpose of this post: highlighting all the reasons why Frank Ocean is Winning. Or most importantly, speaking my language.<br /><br /><center><iframe width="560" height="26" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/W1psc54_3X0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe> <br /><i>Press play.</i></center><br /><br />I'm walking down Broadway to meet the girls for dinner when something stops me dead in my tracks - Nature Feels comes on and those beginning beats (copped by MGMT's Electric Feel) are getting under my skin. Then he goes in:<br /><blockquote><i>[Verse 1]<br />I've been meaning to fuck you in the garden<br />Been breathing so hard, we both could use the oxygen<br />Just hop on my back, I'll take you down the stairs<br />Into my backyard and lay you right on the grass</i></blockquote>You had me at garden. Perhaps because I hail from the suburbs, where I grew up on a half acre of land that included many failed attempts at flourishing gardens. The idea that he wants to you-know-what in the garden means more to me for this reason. <br /><blockquote><i>[Hook]<br />Give it you over again, over again over again<br />Over again over again, over again over again<br />Making love, underneath the cherry leaves<br />Baby girl, tell me how my nature feels<br />Said oh baby, up against the cherry tree<br />Baby girl, I'll give it to you naturally, naturally</i></blockquote>The notion of this all unfolding in a garden under a cherry tree is both incredibly sexy and hopeful. Cherry Trees represent death (eep!), rebirth, and (naturally) new awakenings. This moment outside is more than just some sexytime between two lovers - to me, the cherry tree involvement highlights new strides in their relationship. <br /><blockquote><i>[Verse 2]<br />Feeling like Adam when he first found out this existed<br />Me and my Eve trying out our first positions<br />And it's all good, and it's all free, <br />And it's all you, and it's only me<br />Playing in the dirt, wrestling myself inside you</i></blockquote>The Adam and Eve reference isn't lost on me. Knowing Eve was made from Adam, this seems to conjure up a heightened sexual reference - there is a fluidity of bodies moving together, creating together. And besides, who doesn't love to wrestle?<br /><blockquote><i>[Hook]<br />Give it you over again, over again over again<br />Over again over again, over again over again<br />Making love, underneath the cherry leaves<br />Baby girl, tell me how my nature feels<br />Said oh baby, up against the cherry tree<br />Baby girl, I'll give it to you naturally, naturally</i><br /><br /><i>[Bridge]<br />My cavewoman, I'm a caveman<br />Doing wild things in a wild land<br />We keep going baby, we keep getting it baby<br />We'll get pebbles maybe a couple bam bams<br />Bam bam, bang bang, girl your heart<br />Goes bam and bang, feel my heart go, go, go</i></blockquote>Not gonna lie, he loses me here - talking about making little Pebbles and Bam Bams. Granted, I'm trying to dislike children less, but the magic for me ends at the thought of babies. Sorry, bro. But just when I think I'm done you bring MGMT back at the end with the original bridge and outro, and I'm lost in this song again.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-500355560848790429?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-14098085027916793482011-05-20T12:17:00.055-04:002011-05-20T12:17:01.076-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Here's what I'm coveting this week:<br /><br /><b>90's Music</b><br /><br /><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/164jS1qnCU0" width="480"></iframe></center><br /><br />I blame this on Something Borrowed, which features a scene with a great 90's cover band playing some of my absolute favorite childhood songs. Since seeing the movie (and listening to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ah5gAkna3jI">Hey Jealousy</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rXZVKYEIH8">Hows it Going to Be</a> on repeat), I've spent way too much of my free time (read: the few minutes between when I finish work and pass out) googling "top songs of the 90's" and taking trips down memory lane.<br /><br /><b>Dates with the Girls</b><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T5QwWCWf8OI/TdXbqTiIW2I/AAAAAAAAAyg/dSHeHRYIoWU/s1600/37938_543187366142_14100740_32160461_6189592_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T5QwWCWf8OI/TdXbqTiIW2I/AAAAAAAAAyg/dSHeHRYIoWU/s400/37938_543187366142_14100740_32160461_6189592_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[Yeslan, Margaret (aka Maggie) and myself]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We don't really have the chance to do it often enough because of what I like to call "growing pains" but dates with the girls make my life feel fuller. There's nothing like Margaret's work stories (oh hey Maggie!), Yeslan's to-the-point questions, Laura's budgets, Larissa's side eyes, and Allie's vino. Side note for my girls: we need to do better at group pictures. #Wompwomp.<br /><br /><b>Pinterest</b><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GqteqAXXhAs/TdXeBMtEiDI/AAAAAAAAAyk/DayOObAci58/s1600/pinterest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="404" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GqteqAXXhAs/TdXeBMtEiDI/AAAAAAAAAyk/DayOObAci58/s640/pinterest.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://pinterest.com/maiah/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>Entirely obsessed. Entirely. Pinterest is a "virtual pinboard" and community where people collect images across the web that are inspiring, amusing, or just a little weird. If you can't tell by the ruffles and flowers, my collections tend to be on the girly side. Looking to join? Leave a comment with your email for an invite!<br /><br />Whats on you coveting this week? </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1409808502791679348?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-25627752567539732262011-05-19T22:25:00.080-04:002011-05-20T00:47:45.448-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">When I read <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42156.Something_Borrowed">Something Borrowed</a>, I loved the book. I immediately bought <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42155.Something_Blue">Something Blue</a> to finish the series surrounding my four favorite characters: Rachel, Darcy, Dex and Ethan. When it was all said and done, I felt so strongly about the <a href="http://www.emilygiffin.com/">Emily Giffin</a> books that I started lending them out left and right. When someone mentioned they were reading it, I was immediately asking what they thought! I went <i>Something Borrowed</i> crazy.<br /><br />Then, months passed and just as I was having trouble finding people to talk to about the book my life was changed by a trailer for the <a href="http://somethingborrowedmovie.warnerbros.com/">movie</a> adaptation.<br /><br /><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lm7ZaKxYZjg" width="560"></iframe></center><br /><br />So you get the gist, right? Rachel borrows her best friend's fiance. If you are at all confused by this concept, just note that it is frowned upon.<br /><br />Since the movie came out this month, I have managed to see it twice (once alone as a treat to myself) and once with my favorite group of girls. When the movie ended we erupted into a discussion about who's fault the cheating was. When I posed the question to the girls on either side of me, their answers were either "no one's!" or "Dex's fault!". When we passed along the same question to the rest of our crew, their answer was unanimous, "Rachel's!". You see, they subscribed to the school of thought that the female is to blame if she takes a guy up on his offer, even if he brings up the idea of something forbidden without any prompting from said female.<br /><br />I personally happen to disagree. As a disclaimer, my thoughts have nothing to do with true love or romance (even though I love love). If Dex were my man and he proposed the idea of cheating on me to my best friend, even if she said no, I wouldn't forgive him for having (and attempting to act on) the desire to cheat! Regardless, we all agreed that Rachel, while quiet, nerdy, and slightly tragic as a character, was a trifling heifer. Dex, while devastatingly handsome and usually meaning well, was a disappointing, wishy-washy man unable to make his own decisions. Between the two of them, if this were real life, I'm not sure either would belong in my circle.<br /><br />I think most ladies would agree that despite the storyline, it was enjoyable. Definitely a romantic comedy, the movie enjoyed some much needed relief by Ethan and his unfortunate faux-lover Claire. It featured both real and inspired New York hotspots, all of which I plan to visit if I haven't already. And a cameo by Giffin herself, who rocks some fierce white denim while reading her sequel, Something Blue (hello, movie #2)! And on top of that, some really great fashion, beautiful Hamptons shots, an awesome soundtrack, and a wonderful teaser at the end for the upcoming sequel.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mg0XTpIjBQk/TdXwUK0mGMI/AAAAAAAAAyo/vqYTU8f-duM/s1600/emily-giffin-in-something-borrowed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mg0XTpIjBQk/TdXwUK0mGMI/AAAAAAAAAyo/vqYTU8f-duM/s400/emily-giffin-in-something-borrowed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u_VcPoUaibc/TdXwU3H0u0I/AAAAAAAAAys/fKwW5VPcT5o/s1600/something-borrowed-movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u_VcPoUaibc/TdXwU3H0u0I/AAAAAAAAAys/fKwW5VPcT5o/s400/something-borrowed-movie.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-np6vsOl3leg/TdXwVbmBABI/AAAAAAAAAyw/-5fqOWFqnjk/s1600/something-borrowed-new.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-np6vsOl3leg/TdXwVbmBABI/AAAAAAAAAyw/-5fqOWFqnjk/s400/something-borrowed-new.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lOZwIrjxezY/TdXwWUCfqxI/AAAAAAAAAy0/66IJ_Nl65VU/s1600/Something-Borrowed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lOZwIrjxezY/TdXwWUCfqxI/AAAAAAAAAy0/66IJ_Nl65VU/s400/Something-Borrowed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />Did you see the movie or <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2010/07/suburban-girl-reads-something-borrowed.html">read</a> the book? What did you think? And who is to <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/05/blame-game.html">blame</a>!?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-2562775256753973226?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-60743617309363810822011-05-15T23:18:00.001-04:002011-05-20T00:48:23.917-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I'm totally entranced by this whole glorification of cheating, mistresses, and infidelity. I suppose my fascination started with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eliot_Spitzer">Eliot Spitzer</a> (aka Client No. 9) and his female escort "Kristen" (government name: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ashley_Alexandra_Dupr%C3%A9">Ashley Alexandra Dupre</a>). When the news broke in the spring of 2008, news outlets went crazy. Additionally, readers went crazy waiting for the next great headline pun, and I went crazy trying to understand why this girl, who is my age, wass servicing someone like Client No. 9 while I (recently graduated) was trying to understand what 401k meant.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cREt_aE6J-E/TdAqhxnjjvI/AAAAAAAAAyY/KBv7yT7PC_o/s1600/11_andthewinneris_lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cREt_aE6J-E/TdAqhxnjjvI/AAAAAAAAAyY/KBv7yT7PC_o/s400/11_andthewinneris_lg.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2008/03/reacting_to_eliots_mess.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Regardless, I was still fascinated by the whole thing. Very quickly, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/13/nyregion/13spitzer.html?ref=eliotlspitzer">Spitzer resigned</a>, his silent and stoic <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silda_Wall_Spitzer">wife</a> communicated pain in standing by her husband, and Ashley Dupre was propelled to fame. Why? How? I didn't get it. Now, Spitzer is on the rise with <a href="http://inthearena.blogs.cnn.com/">his own show on CNN</a> and along those same lines, Dupre is co-staring in <a href="http://nymag.com/daily/entertainment/2011/04/vh1_greenlights_a_restaurant_r.html">what I imagine will be a <i>Comedy of Errors</i> about celebrities creating their own restaurants</a>. Oy, enough.<br /><br />Then there's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiger_Woods">Tiger Woods</a>, who's exploits made <i>no sense whatsoever.</i> After woman number 5 I just gave up on trying to<a href="http://www.thehollywoodgossip.com/2009/12/the-women-of-tiger-woods-full-list--pictures/"> keep up with the news</a>. The one thing I'll never forget his how completely poetic it seemed for his wife to <a href="http://www.usmagazine.com/celebritynews/news/new-report-what-really-happened-the-night-tiger-crashed-his-suv-2010251">whoop his ass with a golf club</a>. I guess <b><i>what makes you, breaks you.</i></b><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aoaHgnx3ws0/TdCPD4KiDPI/AAAAAAAAAyc/sWh44WwPPCI/s1600/687b12f2b55d46eea26553750db4ab93.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aoaHgnx3ws0/TdCPD4KiDPI/AAAAAAAAAyc/sWh44WwPPCI/s400/687b12f2b55d46eea26553750db4ab93.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://quiz.uk.msn.com/quiz/my-entertainment/quiz.aspx?id=dd8eb234-5c5f-469f-bbf7-d0a3e79d36bd">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />And let's please not forget about everyone's favorite <strike>home wrecker</strike> singer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alicia_Keys">Alicia Keys</a> and her new hubby <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swizz_Beatz">Swizz Beatz</a>. Alicia graces the cover of <a href="http://www.essence.com/magazine/alicia_keys_essence_june_2011_cover.php">Essence</a> this month, within which she says her relationship with Swizz was no where near inappropriate, stating the two started dating after he and his then wife <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mashonda">Mashonda</a> <a href="http://www.essence.com/entertainment/hot_topics/5_questions_for_mashonda_on_love_hip_hop_and_swizz_beatz_divorce.php">separated</a>. There was <a href="http://necolebitchie.com/2010/07/28/swizz-beatz-uk-baby-mama-throws-shots-at-a-keys/">another woman</a> in the mix, who also gave birth to a child fathered by Swizz and I am sure she was highly influential in he and Mashonda's divorce. That said, seeing the happiness of Alicia and Swizz side by side with the heartbreak of Mashonda's on <a href="http://www.vh1.com/shows/love_and_hip_hop/series.jhtml">Love &amp; Hip Hop</a> was saddening. And while I celebrate love, I do think Alicia needs to be careful because, as all women know, <b><i>how you get them is how you lose them</i></b>. <br /><br /><br /><br /><center><embed allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" base="." flashvars="configParams=id%3D1661481%26uri%3Dmgid%3Auma%3Avideolist%3Avh1.com%3A1661481" height="319" src="http://media.mtvnservices.com/mgid:uma:videolist:vh1.com:1661481" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="512" wmode="transparent"></embed><br /><div><a href="http://lovehiphop.vh1.com/" onmouseout="this.style.textDecoration='none'" onmouseover="this.style.textDecoration='underline'" style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: 10px; font-weight: bold; padding: 0px 4px 0px 10px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Love &amp; Hip Hop</a> |<a href="http://www.vh1.com/shows/love_and_hip_hop/cast_member.jhtml?personalityId=14667" onmouseout="this.style.textDecoration='none'" onmouseover="this.style.textDecoration='underline'" style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: 10px; font-weight: bold; padding: 0px 4px 0px 10px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Olivia Longott</a> |<a href="http://www.vh1.com/shows/love_and_hip_hop/cast_member.jhtml?personalityId=14668" onmouseout="this.style.textDecoration='none'" onmouseover="this.style.textDecoration='underline'" style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: 10px; font-weight: bold; padding: 0px 4px 0px 10px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Somaya Reece</a> |<a href="http://www.vh1.com/shows/love_and_hip_hop/cast_member.jhtml?personalityId=14669" onmouseout="this.style.textDecoration='none'" onmouseover="this.style.textDecoration='underline'" style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: 10px; font-weight: bold; padding: 0px 4px 0px 10px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Mashonda Tifrere</a> </div></center><br /><br />Stay tuned for <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/05/oops-i-borrowed-your-boyfriend.html">Part 2</a> of "The Blame Game", within which I'll review Something Borrowed (<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42156.Something_Borrowed">the book</a> and <a href="http://somethingborrowedmovie.warnerbros.com/">the movie</a>) and detail a scene from tonight where 6 weird girls were arguing in the movie theatre about who was right and who was wrong. Oh wait, that was us...</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-6074361730936381082?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-79534866471846666702011-05-13T17:14:00.000-04:002011-05-13T17:14:48.114-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Here's what I'm loving this week:<br /><b><br /></b><br /><b>Cocktails with Belle</b><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r9GaquhCb50/Tc2JYdMuLqI/AAAAAAAAAyA/iTkNN2Boe3s/s1600/INVITE%2BCWB%2B050911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r9GaquhCb50/Tc2JYdMuLqI/AAAAAAAAAyA/iTkNN2Boe3s/s320/INVITE%2BCWB%2B050911.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I had the opportunity to attend Cocktails with Belle this week and it was such a treat! Being surrounded by beautiful black women all aspiring to do huge things was just my idea of a great Monday night!<br /><br /><b>ink48 - A Kimpton Hotel</b><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gBnruV_55S0/Tc2J2roDrAI/AAAAAAAAAyI/KHNW-eDZdH4/s1600/ink48-press.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gBnruV_55S0/Tc2J2roDrAI/AAAAAAAAAyI/KHNW-eDZdH4/s400/ink48-press.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Cocktails with Belle was held at<a href="http://www.ink48.com/"> ink48</a>'s <a href="http://www.printrestaurant.com/presslounge.html">Press Lounge</a> on the 16th Floor. With a super sexy interior, <i><b>stunning </b></i>views of the city, the most delicious Peach Cosmopolitan I've ever tasted, it took the edge off a rough Monday in the office. My girl, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/allievino">AllieVino</a> and I made a vow to come back immediately. See you soon, Press Lounge!<br /><br /><b>about.me</b><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SN93ALPs3eM/Tc2KJf5CsmI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/CGMd4Y-kujs/s1600/aboutme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SN93ALPs3eM/Tc2KJf5CsmI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/CGMd4Y-kujs/s400/aboutme.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />I found out about <a href="http://about.me/maiah">about.me</a> by <a href="http://julia.nonsociety.com/">Julia Allison</a>, who was working closely with the brand when they first launched. It's a great little website that allows you to make a completely free splash page about you. I recommend it to everyone wanting to buy a domain for themselves but can't quite get up the courage. With lovely backgrounds and a super easy to follow set up process, it's a great little tool for building yourself as a brand.<br /><br /><b>Fridays</b><br /><br /><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CD2LRROpph0" width="560"></iframe></center><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>for the record, i hate this song. but it's friday....&nbsp;</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>also, i'm positive those kids aren't old enough to drive, let alone in a convertible. </i></span></div><br />I don't know about you, but for me the month of May has been full of overtime, no sleep, yelling clients, and LONG conference calls. It's Friday afternoon and I'm counting down the minutes until my weekend. I hope you are too!<b> </b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7953486647184666670?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-68387571284580210202011-05-10T21:47:00.000-04:002011-05-10T21:47:12.178-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">On Saturday, May 7th, I attended the first ever <a href="http://risingaffluent.com/">Rising Affluent</a> Conference with my girl, <a href="http://theellaproject.wordpress.com/">Larissa</a>. Since the two of us are working on a project (which will be announced at a later date) we decided to take advantage of this day of advancement and achievement. How did we find out? <a href="http://www.abelleinbrooklyn.com/">A Belle in Brooklyn</a>, of course.<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9oDR7FjoiZE/TcnouFAEbPI/AAAAAAAAAx4/VpfU3_Lfl2k/s1600/bb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9oDR7FjoiZE/TcnouFAEbPI/AAAAAAAAAx4/VpfU3_Lfl2k/s320/bb.jpg" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://whiteminolta.blogspot.com/2011/03/gotta-have-ita-belle-in-brooklyn-advice.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>Larissa introduced me to Belle (government name: Demetria Lucas) a while ago as a writer and blogger to watch. Bonus? She's a bougie black girl who loves a <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2010/07/suburban-girl-shops-louis-vuitton.html">Louis</a> and some fierce shoes. Of course I was hooked.<br /><br />I immediately started following <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/abelleinbk">Belle on twitter</a>, and going through back entries of her blog. I checked out her features on <a href="http://www.essence.com/topics/?s=Demetria+Lucas">Essence</a> (which was incredibly tolling as she publishes the hot man of the month) and became a literary groupie. You see, Belle's career - it's exactly what I'd hoped for myself in moving to New York City. My pathway has been a bit bumpy on the way there, but people like her remind people like me that anything is attainable. <br /><br />So, enter the <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/risingaffluent">Rising Affluent</a> Conference. Larissa and I are sitting at a full table of very nice women, networking and such, when a girl comes over and mumbles something I can't hear. I turn to Larissa and raise my eyebrows like <i>what?</i> as her eyes start growing exponentially. "Belle... is ... reading... from ..." she stammers and before she can finish her sentence we've both jumped out our chairs. Suddenly we realize it's rude to leave without saying goodbye to the women at our table so we mumble something about Belle giving a reading upstairs and they all seem to follow suit.<br /><br />You see, the announcement was slightly premature, and poor Belle had an audience of people watching her as she tried to find a place for the print of her <a href="http://www.abelleinbrooklyn.com/blog/2011/3/26/cover-reveal-a-belle-in-brooklyn.html"><i>gorgeous</i> book cover</a>. I watch her as she gives the nicest side eye I've ever seen to the camera man, who places the print on a chair, and then smile at the Conference director, who brings in an easel. As someone working in events, I smile too.<br /><br />She begins shortly after that, introducing herself as Demetria but I can only think of her as Belle. She talks of her inspiration and this is where I melt into a puddle of excitement because it's full of things I can relate to (especially the bit about <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/122212.Waiting_to_Exhale">Waiting to Exhale</a>. Black girls, if you haven't read this, please find it immediately).<br /><br />An avid <a href="http://www.hbo.com/sex-and-the-city/index.html">Sex &amp; The City</a> fan, she notes she was always waiting for their fierce black girlfriend to pop into the picture with a storyline rivaling everyone else's. She never really could get into <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Girlfriends">Girlfriends</a> the same way and neither could I. As much as I love Toni, Lynn, Maya and Joan; they really can't stand up to our beloved Miranda, Charlotte, Samantha and Carrie. She wanted to bring the voice of that black girlfriend we missed to fruition... so she wrote. Here she is now, with a book deal signed, her first piece (entitled <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Belle-Brooklyn-Go-Advice-Living/dp/1451606311">A Belle in Brooklyn, The Go-to Girl for Advice on Living Your Best Single Life</a>) completed, and her second piece in the works. <i><b>She's an inspiration.</b></i><br /><br />Belle read from a chapter entitled "My Father Called Me a Party Girl". She read the piece from her iPad, which blinked away with every awestruck tweet from the girls in the room, reacting to the piece, or just her presence. When she finished her reading, which spoke of "Black Melrose" (aka <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DeKalb_Avenue">DeKalb Avenue</a> in Brooklyn), her party girl past, and blood orange margaritas; I vowed never to let a day go by that I didn't chase my dream and have fun doing it.<br /><br />I had the opportunity to ask one question: "Hi Belle (oops, I guess I meant Demetria), my name is Maiah Johnson and you're an inspiration!" I stammered. "I'm just wondering how you keep it all balanced? You know, the blog, and your book, and your full time job 'cause you have to pay rent..."<br /><br />She smiled graciously, "oh, balancing all this? Trust me, the rent is paid."<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gTZe6bel-uo/Tcno7-VkxlI/AAAAAAAAAx8/yUJPztwBaPU/s1600/DLshoe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gTZe6bel-uo/Tcno7-VkxlI/AAAAAAAAAx8/yUJPztwBaPU/s1600/DLshoe.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://thefreshxpress.com/2011/03/a-sit-down-with-the-dating-guru-herself-demetria-lucas-author-and-relationship-editor-of-essence-magazine/dlshoe/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-6838757128458021020?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-29337065645317718142011-05-06T15:20:00.000-04:002011-05-06T15:20:00.943-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I started this series on several old blogs. And by several I mean at least 3. I've decided to try and start it again, this time inspired by my girl over at <a href="http://everydaytorunway.com/">Everyday to Runway</a>. <br /><br />So, here goes!<br /><br /><b>Chocolat Restaurant Lounge</b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uQmmC0uHs9w/TcQ6X15cdbI/AAAAAAAAAxs/SS0K0Lft7m8/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uQmmC0uHs9w/TcQ6X15cdbI/AAAAAAAAAxs/SS0K0Lft7m8/s400/-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />I went with <a href="http://www.theellaproject.wordpress.com/">my</a> <a href="http://www.fiercelyfashionable.com/">favorites</a> as a little <a href="http://www.chocolatlounge.com/">treat</a> for ourselves and fell.in.love. Delicious food, nice and attentive waitstaff, and great design.<br /><br /><b>The Dude Society</b><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-emIe9rAg0tA/TcQ7r2eQ4qI/AAAAAAAAAxw/1odF7yUCZHY/s1600/DS_screengrab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-emIe9rAg0tA/TcQ7r2eQ4qI/AAAAAAAAAxw/1odF7yUCZHY/s400/DS_screengrab.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b>&nbsp;</b><br />I'm actually obsessed with <a href="http://thedudesociety.com/">The Dude Society</a>, discovered through <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/DrLailaPhD">a lovely Doctor friend</a> I went to college with. Even though it's an "Online Magazine for Guys" I can't help but get my fix!<br /><br /><b>My Uncorrected Proof of <a href="http://www.ericabauermeister.com/">Erica Bauermeister</a>'s (<a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/04/book-review-school-of-essential.html">love</a>) new book Joy for Beginners. </b><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nW1YcmjmYUE/TcQzOmOxNCI/AAAAAAAAAxk/DekTW9o_yt0/s1600/-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nW1YcmjmYUE/TcQzOmOxNCI/AAAAAAAAAxk/DekTW9o_yt0/s400/-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Just came in the mail this morning! Thanks <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/">Goodreads</a> &amp; <a href="http://us.penguingroup.com/static/pages/publishers/adult/putnam.html">Putnam</a>!<br /><br /><b>Gilt City: New York &amp; Boston</b><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BLNjJX23KR4/TcRJNL4VyiI/AAAAAAAAAx0/2eh30fbOwX8/s1600/GCNY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BLNjJX23KR4/TcRJNL4VyiI/AAAAAAAAAx0/2eh30fbOwX8/s1600/GCNY.jpg" /></a></div><br /><b>&nbsp;</b>I'm a little bit obsessed with <a href="http://www.giltcity.com/newyork">Gilt City</a> suddenly. I have yet to actually purchase something but I've come super close, including <a href="http://www.giltcity.com/boston/sadeboston">concert tickets to Sade in Boston</a> for my Mom &amp; Dad as a joint mother's day/father's day gift. The response was "Maiah, we are old people. We can't hang on a Wednesday night." ... Valid. Regardless, I'm still stalking Gilt City for the perfect deal!<b></b><br /><br />Let me know what you think of iCovet Fridays! I'll try to keep it up :)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-2933706564531771814?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-40545314974843065882011-04-29T08:17:00.000-04:002011-04-29T08:17:37.360-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">There are more than enough opinionated people out there voicing their reasons why we shouldn't give a crap that a stunning Royal Wedding happened today. Frankly, I don't give a crap about that opinion. Today, something extraordinary and phenomenal happened: two people, so incredibly in love, shared their love, <a href="http://www.officialroyalwedding2011.org/">their wedding</a>, and a very intimate moment with billions of people. And it was beautiful.<br /><br />On Friday, April 29th, 2011 at around 6am I awoke to the sounds of hymns coming from my television. I decided to sleep with it on ABC, which was playing <a href="http://news.sky.com/skynews/Royal-Wedding">Sky News</a> (a UK outlet) in the early hours of the morning. I quickly switched to <a href="http://www.bbcamerica.com/">BBC America</a> just in time to watch the ceremony begin and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_William_of_Wales">Prince William</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kate_Middleton">Kate Middleton</a> exchange vows.<br /><br />The thing is, it's not about this just being a royal wedding. It's about the excitement behind it all. It's about that look every groom gets when he sees his future wife walk down that aisle towards him. It's about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_Harry_of_Wales">Prince Harry</a> whispering to his brother, <b><i>"she looks beautiful"</i></b> as Kate walks down the aisle with her father. It's about tradition and saying those vows that every couple says before their pastor, their loved ones, and God.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Op2v2lr4ouU/TbqlM1_0QsI/AAAAAAAAAw8/eB8wgsoK-yY/s1600/willskate_dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Op2v2lr4ouU/TbqlM1_0QsI/AAAAAAAAAw8/eB8wgsoK-yY/s640/willskate_dad.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://abcnews.go.com/International/Royal_Wedding/slideshow/the-royal-wedding-in-photos-13470425">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It's about <a href="http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2011/04/wedding_dress.html">McQueen</a> by <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/kates-dress-made-by-sarah-burton-at-alexander-mcqueen-2276595.html">Sarah Burton</a>.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Io_RMsCrI/TbqoRGNuigI/AAAAAAAAAxM/dS2I0g-bpU8/s1600/29_weddingdress_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="419" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Io_RMsCrI/TbqoRGNuigI/AAAAAAAAAxM/dS2I0g-bpU8/s640/29_weddingdress_5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2011/04/wedding_dress.html#photo=6x86750">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>But mostly, it's about love. And you really can't fight love, can you?<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YDdV5OcnWvw/TbqlygimAYI/AAAAAAAAAxE/PN_6t_eTzkc/s1600/ht_royal_wedding_programme_jm_ss2_110428_ssh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="390" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YDdV5OcnWvw/TbqlygimAYI/AAAAAAAAAxE/PN_6t_eTzkc/s640/ht_royal_wedding_programme_jm_ss2_110428_ssh.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://abcnews.go.com/International/Royal_Wedding/slideshow/the-royal-wedding-in-photos-13470425">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dckokmQapx4/TbqpECxgcyI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/hgcIivLjKVU/s1600/29_royalwedding_ring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dckokmQapx4/TbqpECxgcyI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/hgcIivLjKVU/s640/29_royalwedding_ring.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2011/04/post_64.html#photo=36x86765">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rZc6hW_iAoE/TbqpGnbNgRI/AAAAAAAAAxU/Ee2hmSlDBIY/s1600/29_royalwedding_emergence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rZc6hW_iAoE/TbqpGnbNgRI/AAAAAAAAAxU/Ee2hmSlDBIY/s640/29_royalwedding_emergence.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2011/04/post_64.html#photo=37x86767">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Did you wake up in time to watch the Royal Wedding??</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-4054531497484306588?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-57226150709733232862011-04-27T00:26:00.000-04:002011-04-27T00:26:37.574-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Let’s face it, ladies. If you’re a single twenty-something, living in a bustling and exhausting city, its not as easy to find a man as some might think. In New York City alone, <a href="http://www.politicsdaily.com/2010/04/20/worlds-best-city-for-men-new-york-city-no-1-in-survey/">single women outnumber single men by over 210,000</a> (is that not horrific??). What does that mean? We’re going to spend more time single than we’d like. But I strongly believe that there are a few things that every woman must always indulge in, whether she is single or not:<br /><br /><b>Waxing, Sugaring, Shaving, Plucking, Threading, Bleaching, etc.</b><br />I cannot stress this enough. If you let yourself go, you will never <i>feel</i> sexy enough to snag a new man. Never. You’ll go out and hang your head low because your eyebrows aren’t waxed. You’ll stand with your shoulders slumped and your legs crossed one over the other because your you-know-what needs a tune up and your legs need shaving. And you’ll be generally uncomfortable because you don’t feel beautiful but you can’t quite figure out why. So pick your poison and keep it pretty.<br /><br /><b>Don't forget Victoria's Secret</b><br />Because nothing exudes confidence like walking around with this under your outfit:<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7W_uKePNxAE/TbY8FaLL1MI/AAAAAAAAAwg/ZEQcnmaTWjk/s1600/120110-holiday-commercial-90-video-575x323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7W_uKePNxAE/TbY8FaLL1MI/AAAAAAAAAwg/ZEQcnmaTWjk/s1600/120110-holiday-commercial-90-video-575x323.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://vsallaccess.victoriassecret.com/tv-ads/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><b>Treat yourself to dinner &amp; a movie </b><br />Please don’t reserve those kind of dates for when you have a man. I dated a man who LOVED the movies. When we broke up, theatres throughout the city became off limits to me as they all held too many memories. While I was pouting, I was missing the incredible works of art being released. Now, I’m playing catch up on Netflix (still) so that when a cute boy at a bar asks me “oh, you’re from Boston? Have you seen The Departed?” I can say “absolutely!’ and follow up with something witty – so much sexier than saying “oh... no.” #womp.<br /><br /><b>Always indulge in home cooked meals</b><br />The thing about cooking is that sometimes we save the impressive stuff for proving your wife potential. The thing about saving the impressive stuff is that you don’t get to treat yourself. So, instead of enjoying a delicious <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/2006/12/magnificence-au-vin/">Coq Au Vin</a>, you’re eating pasta with a boring sauce and getting a little fat. Treat yourself! You deserve a beautiful, home cooked meal. Don’t get lazy, get working. Besides, how do you expect that <a href="http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/video/2011/03/video-the-engagement-chicken-story">engagement</a> <a href="http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/2006/07/engagement-chicken-recipe">chicken</a> to work if you haven’t tested it at least twice?<br /><br /><b>Don’t forget lazy Sundays</b><br />There is nothing like a lazy Sunday in the arms of a lover. It's like there's no such thing as laziness because you're spending that time with a lovah. I personally feel guilty about lying in bed all day on a Sunday just because. But sometimes, you just have to indulge in a lazy Sunday chill session. Turn on Tweet’s <a href="http://www.last.fm/music/Tweet/Southern+Hummingbird">Southern Hummingbird</a> album, <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/">grab a book</a>, order take out, and just hang.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-5722615070973323286?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-73310323074374576412011-04-20T22:50:00.003-04:002011-06-08T23:19:07.924-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">My favorite <a href="http://www.borders.com/online/store/Home">Borders</a> in New York City is <a href="http://blogs.wsj.com/deals/2011/02/16/is-borders-closing-a-store-near-you-heres-the-full-list/">closing</a> (in fact, it may even be closed by now). Upon receiving the saddest email from Borders HQ and the consistent updates about book prices dropping in their liquidation, I had to swing by for one last look.<br /><br />In slowly perusing the stacks, my eye was drawn to one of the most beautiful book covers I'd laid eyes on in a while. It was one of those awkward moments where I sort of gently grazed the cover with my fingers, trying to actually <i>feel</i> the beauty. The woman next to me gave a cough and a side eye, which I mimicked, and side eyed her until she walked away. Then I picked it up and read:<br /><br /><blockquote><i>Once a month on Monday night, eight students gather in Lillian’s restaurant kitchen for a cooking class. They come to learn the art behind Lillian’s dishes, but it soon becomes clear that each one unknowingly seeks a recipe for something beyond the kitchen. One by one, they are transformed by the aromas, flavors, and textures of what they create. Over time, the paths of the students intermingle and intertwine, and the essence of Lillian’s cooking expands beyond the restaurant and into the secret corners of their lives, with results that are often unexpected and always delicious.</i> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">[<a href="http://www.ericabauermeister.com/books">via</a>]</span></blockquote><br />Sounded interesting enough. So I signed onto my <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/">Goodreads</a> iPhone app and <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6718461-the-school-of-essential-ingredients">read a few reviews</a>, all of which were glowing and added the book to my embarrassingly large stack (good thing I've been hitting the gym).<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1589514519"><br /></a><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/School-Essential-Ingredients-Erica-Bauermeister/dp/B003UHUBLI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1303353639&amp;sr=8-1">The School of Essential Ingredients</a> by <a href="http://www.ericabauermeister.com/">Erica Bauermeister</a> is a case in which judging a book by it's cover worked in my favor. This is one of the most beautiful books I have ever read. I found myself swooning and crying at the touching moments she outlines in stunning prose.<br /><br />The novel is completely dogeared to mark my favorite passages, and entirely beaten up (just how I like my books) because I refused to put it down wherever I went. Each chapter divulged the personal story of a student in the cooking class, and each story left me with watery eyes and the same face of awe and love.<br /><br />I implore you to purchase this book and read it. I'd offer you my copy to borrow, but I'm too attached to lend it to anyone (sorry, boo).<br /><br />I leave you with one of my many favorite bits. I'd rather not set the scene for you, as this storyline is so touching it makes me cry to even think about it. But the romance, and the beauty of language is something I just have to share:<br /><blockquote><i>"The first time he had kissed her - it had taken six weeks - was over hamburgers, two inches thick, juices running. He had leaned over and licked the grease off her arm without thinking. As he brought his face up to hers, he wondered how it was that the distance between arm and mouth could take such a sweet infinity to travel."</i> [<a href="http://www.amazon.com/School-Essential-Ingredients-Erica-Bauermeister/dp/B003UHUBLI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1303353639&amp;sr=8-1">via</a>, page 120]</blockquote><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hUWy7iY2tbo/Ta-Zz6gmUoI/AAAAAAAAAwU/MCD-o87QC7g/s1600/EssentialIngredients3pdf_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hUWy7iY2tbo/Ta-Zz6gmUoI/AAAAAAAAAwU/MCD-o87QC7g/s1600/EssentialIngredients3pdf_001.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/School-Essential-Ingredients-Erica-Bauermeister/dp/B003UHUBLI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1303353639&amp;sr=8-1">The School of Essential Ingredients</a> by Erica Bauermeister</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7331032307437457641?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-13261814166558419772011-04-15T00:28:00.000-04:002011-04-15T00:28:35.265-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">When my favorite <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/NECOLEBITCHIE">Gossip Girl</a>, <a href="http://necolebitchie.com/">Necole Bitchie</a> posted the below, I thought, "I better read that, ASAP": <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9EAqKAkvWbQ/Tadb0W0vEJI/AAAAAAAAAv4/OiiwpaDNCTk/s1600/NecoleBitchie_KellyRowland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9EAqKAkvWbQ/Tadb0W0vEJI/AAAAAAAAAv4/OiiwpaDNCTk/s400/NecoleBitchie_KellyRowland.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />And when <a href="http://theellaproject.wordpress.com/">my fellow blogger</a> and dear friend, <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/lariluv">Larissa</a> said, "did you read that Kelly Rowland interview where she talked about dating outside her race?" I realized I better stop procrastinating (read: working) and get busy reading that interview.<br /><br />Rowland, whom I ADORE for her ability to seamlessly transition from genre to genre of music (and who provided <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QxPrbhmci4A">the soundtrack</a> for several very decadent nights in Dubai), spoke honestly about the kind of men she dates. From white men to black men, she holds no prejudice when it comes to who she sets her sights on. <br /><br />The interview, from Thursday morning's <a href="http://www.power1051fm.com/pages/onair/breakfast-club/?uri=channels/449330/1285086">Power 105.1 Breakfast Club show</a>, unfolds as follows (<a href="http://necolebitchie.com/2011/04/13/kelly-rowland-talks-music-interracial-dating-nude-pics-matthew-knowles-on-the-breakfast-club/?utm_source=twitterfeed&amp;utm_medium=twitter&amp;utm_campaign=Feed%3A+NecoleBitchiecom+%28Necole+Bitchie.com%29&amp;utm_content=Twitter">via Necole Bitchie</a>):<br /><blockquote><b>You’ve dated all kinds of guys from different places. Do you recommend dating a white guy?</b><br />Yes, you can. I mean it’s completely up to you. I like a black guy just as much as I love a white guy.<br /><br /><b>Do they treat you any better? Because I’ve heard white guys would go down on you more...</b><br />You know what? To me it just depends on the guy... if they like that. Of course, it’s better to find a guy that you can motivate to like that. I like me a nice swag of a black guy, I can’t even lie. <b><span style="color: #d80c71;"><i>To me, black guys and Arabic guys; their swag is almost the same.</i></span></b></blockquote>Yes! They do! It's true! I almost felt as though Kelly and I were having this intimate conversation between the two of us, since apparently we both have <a href="http://www.writingwithwine.com/2011/04/five-reasons-i-love-dating-men-who-look.html">explored dating a myriad of different men</a>.<br /><br />Through my experience, I have learned that black men have a level of swagger that is difficult for other races to reach. Along those same lines, Middle Eastern men possess a certain swag that goes mostly unrivaled. And while I'm absolutely no expert, I have definitely partied with the best of them <i>(no, seriously - at <a href="http://www.cavalliclubdubai.com/">Cavalli Club</a> in Dubai, where the walls are lined in fur)</i> and learned that while black men pop bottles of Moet, Middle Eastern men are popping <u>magnums</u> of Veuve. <i>Fancy</i>.<br /><br />So what's the preference?<br /><br />For me, it's less about the swag and mostly about being wooed. I fell head over heals for a Parisian Muslim man living in London (Old Flame). Originally from Morocco, I was intrigued by all of him, but I fell for that "old school romance" he practiced in getting me to be his.<br /><br />Perhaps for me, the most important bit is how much he makes me swoon. But a little bit of swagger never hurt anybody either.<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1326181416655841977?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-7814176741097160752011-04-05T17:57:00.000-04:002011-04-05T17:57:57.568-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/90-SWwtpdZU" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe> </center><br />I literally can't get enough of this song. Mainly for the harmonies. And the fur.<br /><br />test: <span class="status">TA39KFYGAF4K</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-781417674109716075?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-91757937049573203612011-04-04T22:41:00.000-04:002011-04-04T22:41:20.875-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Oprah Winfrey can get it.<br /><br />I mean it. I find her honesty, her history (<i>herstory</i>) to be a complete excitement.<br /><br />I've been glued to to the television for <a href="http://www.oprah.com/own-master-class/Master-Class-with-Oprah-Winfrey">the past two Sunday nights at 9pm</a> listening to her story with a box of tissues and a look of shock and awe on my face. She has graciously offered up her life within a series titled, <a href="http://www.oprah.com/own-master-class/master-class.html">Master Class</a>. Previous interviewees included Maya Angelou (for whom I am named after), Diane Sawyer, Jay-Z and others. While I resonated with the stories, especially Maya's, I found myself head over heels for Oprah's because she gets it. She can get it.<br /><br />When things "aren't going right"... whatever that's supposed to mean, my mother always says "Maiah, it never looks like what you want it to". This applies to my career, my relationships, my dreams coming to fruition. <i><b>Nothing. Ever. Looks like you want it to.</b></i><b></b> But the key is accepting that something out there (be it whatever you do or do not believe in) is prepping you.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-52O16-mWZ04/TZp5uMBqUUI/AAAAAAAAAvo/cRA5UZyJU00/s1600/oprah_master_class1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="272" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-52O16-mWZ04/TZp5uMBqUUI/AAAAAAAAAvo/cRA5UZyJU00/s640/oprah_master_class1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.oprah.com/own-master-class-the-lessons/master-class-open-to-the-unexpected.html#oprah-winfrey-1">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />A "failed" love is a lesson in love.<br /><br />A "failed" endeavor is a lesson in the next.<br /><br />A "bad" day teaches you how to make the next greater.<br /><br />These things create turmoil in our lives... those "failures" and "upsets" when things <i>aren't going as you <b>imagined</b></i>. The hardest part for me, a controlling Virgo who over-analyzes things to the death, is letting go.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PMve9KXgCSM/TZp8rLOpeNI/AAAAAAAAAvw/oOtHiSiHnx0/s1600/oprah_master_class2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="218" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PMve9KXgCSM/TZp8rLOpeNI/AAAAAAAAAvw/oOtHiSiHnx0/s640/oprah_master_class2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://xoxomaiah.tumblr.com/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Oprah (and Mommy) has reminded me to have faith that this journey I'm on is leading somewhere positive. <br /><br />So with this, I make an affirmation:<br /><br />I will let go.<br /><br />I will give it up to the greater power.<br /><br /><b><i>I will exhale.</i></b></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-9175793704957320361?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-14612943378918392292011-04-04T20:32:00.002-04:002011-04-04T20:41:32.929-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">... is not very realistic.<br /><br />I blame that on Carrie and Big.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And couture.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xkqlY4E0wPQ/TZphBogog7I/AAAAAAAAAvM/Dki02PJoPJY/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img02.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xkqlY4E0wPQ/TZphBogog7I/AAAAAAAAAvM/Dki02PJoPJY/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img02.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OgRE72y7fPY/TZphCxyOVyI/AAAAAAAAAvY/T9zpfi4dphA/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img05.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OgRE72y7fPY/TZphCxyOVyI/AAAAAAAAAvY/T9zpfi4dphA/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img05.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PxhqChpP86U/TZphEgkxEuI/AAAAAAAAAvc/12I1UOrUuCY/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PxhqChpP86U/TZphEgkxEuI/AAAAAAAAAvc/12I1UOrUuCY/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img06.jpg" />&nbsp;</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">&nbsp;<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vMotiJ63HHg/TZphA3qlctI/AAAAAAAAAvI/gKKni_HK1CI/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vMotiJ63HHg/TZphA3qlctI/AAAAAAAAAvI/gKKni_HK1CI/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img01.jpg" />&nbsp;</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">&nbsp;<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RqlsLCYXgeo/TZphFRbo6NI/AAAAAAAAAvk/m4YFkolQ5Es/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RqlsLCYXgeo/TZphFRbo6NI/AAAAAAAAAvk/m4YFkolQ5Es/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img08.jpg" />&nbsp;</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bwxXYFJ8Xec/TZphBxpTEFI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/zB1ZEYlW-Yw/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bwxXYFJ8Xec/TZphBxpTEFI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/zB1ZEYlW-Yw/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img03.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HwQR3JIONgY/TZphFDEtMdI/AAAAAAAAAvg/_u8vYaiGWXA/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HwQR3JIONgY/TZphFDEtMdI/AAAAAAAAAvg/_u8vYaiGWXA/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img07.jpg" />&nbsp;</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H0xjRg_UEGI/TZphCUN9PUI/AAAAAAAAAvU/ISFFu2DEgI4/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H0xjRg_UEGI/TZphCUN9PUI/AAAAAAAAAvU/ISFFu2DEgI4/s1600/_images_vogue_feature_051308_img04.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">all images via <a href="http://www.vogue.com/magazine/article/sarah-jessica-parker-rebel-romance/">vogue</a>, june 2008</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />But according to my mother's wise words - it never looks like what you expect or want it to.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1461294337891839229?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-81476282770306674712011-04-03T22:46:00.005-04:002011-04-04T14:16:11.059-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I9UaaZlKZ_g/TZkyHf-2uPI/AAAAAAAAAvA/5Nt-4yaRjQg/s1600/tumblr_listf4F3Xr1qer9tyo1_400_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I9UaaZlKZ_g/TZkyHf-2uPI/AAAAAAAAAvA/5Nt-4yaRjQg/s400/tumblr_listf4F3Xr1qer9tyo1_400_2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://ordinarybrownbraidedwoman.tumblr.com/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>I've always loved interracial couples. This is probably forced by the fact that I have never dated anyone who looks like me. Well... that's not true. There was that one security guard who worked at a bar near Fenway <a href="http://nwso.net/2011/03/06/dating-someone-with-bad-teeth/">but his teeth were incorrigible</a> and he lived with his grandma and once had his mom call me to tell me he said "hey"... so that ended real quick.<br /><br />Anyway, <b><i>I love dating boys who look (and sound) nothing like me</i>.</b> Below are five reasons why, most of which are inspired by an Old Flame from London who I still think I could marry if the timing were ever right.<br /><br /><br /><br /><center>**</center><br /><b>He makes "us" look interesting</b><br />I always joke that I'm boring: I'm straight up African American, born and raised in Boston, and currently living in NYC. My parents were both born and raised in the south, prior to making the move to Boston before I came into the picture. <i>*yawn*</i> I'd love to have an interesting fact about myself, like my friend, who speaks Mandarin at home, or <a href="http://thepostcool.com/">my bromo</a> (brother from another mother), who thinks of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ackee">Ackee</a> as a staple of his diet. Dating a boy who looks and sounds nothing like me gives me a closer window into what feels like a different world.<br /><br /><b>He encourages me to try new things</b><br />I once dated a man who used to take me out all over the island of Manhattan. I felt glamorous, in that Carrie Bradshaw way where I never ate at the same place twice, and always found myself having a brilliant time. This man indulged my inner princess by ordering for me where ever we went. I loved every moment of it, especially because most items weren't on the menu but classic staples of his diet back home (he was not a native New Yorker). His ease in offering me new experiences encouraged me to approach my own life with the same amount of curiosity as I experienced with him. #Winning.<br /><br /><b>He introduces me to new music&nbsp;</b><br />This post was primarily inspired by <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILtVSmLMLX8">a song</a> that came on shuffle while listening to my iPhone. Yes, it sounds like old school Backstreet Boys, but I met this man in 2005 so can you really blame us for the corny love songs? My iTunes has a nice little collection of recommended French R&amp;B that I try and save for those special moments when I need to remember. But it's always a nice surprise when one of those sings comes on shuffle and makes my heart flutter.<br /><br /><b>The promise of an unexpected reunion</b><br />Last year, I found myself traveling to London and Dubai for work and realizing how blessed I was to take advantage of such a great opportunity. Even more so because Facebook (love it or hate it) alerted me that my Old Flame was living in Dubai. Our reunion was one of the most perfect nights of my life. Even better that it ended watching the sun come up in Dubai, where I found myself back in the cozy spot in his arms with his body wrapped around mine.<br /><br /><b>He gives me language lessons in bed</b><br />My favorite memory of my time with Old Flame was one night, after a beautiful dinner and home made pastries for dessert (did I mention he's a pastry chef?), we climbed in bed. As I found my cozy spot in his arms and he wrapped himself around me, he said through his thick French accent, "let me teach you something." Obviously, I said yes because men love to teach women new things. Little did I know, he was about to blow me away with some of the most beautiful French and Arabic I'd ever heard. I tried my hardest to repeat the words back, but I'm hopeless at learning and retaining languages. His effort to break the words up into easy to say syllables was extra romantic to me. The words and sentences he taught me I'll keep to myself. Not because they were inappropriate, but because there are some memories a girl simply must keep to herself. <br /><br /><hr /><i>Disclaimer: I would gladly date a boy who looks like me, I just have yet to find one that gives me that <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=zsa%20zsa%20zsu">Zsa Zsa Zsu</a>. Think you have what it takes? I'm accepting applications.</i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-8147628277030667471?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-16025346696082304072011-04-03T02:19:00.000-04:002011-04-03T02:19:38.486-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6yMiOTxidFs" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe></center></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1602534669608230407?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-15600867163470890382011-03-30T08:39:00.002-04:002011-03-30T23:54:19.508-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">... Not because I was awful to her, or delivered horrible news. Not because I asked her to cry, or wished that she would.<br /><br />I made my mother cry today. Because I cried and then she cried too.<br /><br />I imagined my father, standing in the nook between their bedroom and the study, perhaps with his arms crossed or his hands in fists. I imagined him thinking about the 4 hour distance between us and how to make it shorter if he needed to. I imagined him softening - looking at my mother, whom he has loved for over 30 years.<br /><br />I made my mother cry today, because there is a bond between a mother and a daughter that is impossible to explain. It's the reason why I call her when I find a pair of jeans on sale. It's the reason why I leave messages at home with just a whistle or a "huh."<br /><br />It's the reason why I call home every single day just to hear her voice.&nbsp; Just to know what they've been up to: "your father and I went to Mexican tonight!" Or what she's trying to avoid: "I told your father that if we eat Chinese food one more time we're going to turn into lo mein!"<br /><br />But most importantly, I made my mother cry today because she can feel my pain and though she shields me from hers, I can feel it (and my father's) too.<br /><br />I made my mother cry today. And for me, it's the one thing I cannot fathom and will always cherish: the unconditional love between a mother, and a daughter... and a father, who stands nearby, waiting to help and trying to figure out how he can ease the struggle. It's the love I hope to find, and the love I want to share. <br /><br />I made my mother cry today. Because I cried and then she cried too.<br /><br /><hr /><i>for mommy and daddy, xo.</i><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1560086716347089038?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-29125871453149985122011-03-23T18:29:00.001-04:002011-03-23T18:32:45.374-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I woke up to the news that <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/24/movies/elizabeth-taylor-obituary.html?_r=1">Elizabeth Taylor passed away</a> thanks to "<a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/maiah">The Twitter</a>", where news travels like lightning. <br /><br />It broke my little heart. <br /><br />I've been loving her for as long as I can remember - which was around the time I realized she was best friends with Michael Jackson. Coincidentally, that was also right around the time I used to <i>think</i> I was Michael Jackson. Curious.<br /><br />Anyway, the point is, I loved her. I thought she was glamorous. The kind of glamour you never see anymore. She was the kind of woman I imagined my bougie child self would grow up to be: glamorous with a side of sauce.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3kbMG0Uq4DE/TYpybuqNyoI/AAAAAAAAAuM/IosYi6MAp2M/s1600/23_liztaylor_10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3kbMG0Uq4DE/TYpybuqNyoI/AAAAAAAAAuM/IosYi6MAp2M/s640/23_liztaylor_10.jpg" width="509" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2011/03/elizabeth_taylor.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-2912587145314998512?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-63738726445072438082011-03-22T23:40:00.006-04:002011-03-23T00:15:15.932-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I can't stop. Lately, I just can't stop downloading mixtapes. It's incredibly tricky... given that every time I plug my iPhone into my computer iTunes pops up and says "Your phone is full! Womp! Womp!" But I just close my eyes, click "sync" and hope for the best.<br /><br />Here are my current favorite downloads:<br /><br /><b>Jhene Aiko // Sailing Souls</b><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-osa9HkMfcNI/TYlgUMGPMkI/AAAAAAAAAtc/tGxHdtb5nGs/s1600/sailingSOULsFRONT-600x401-580x387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-osa9HkMfcNI/TYlgUMGPMkI/AAAAAAAAAtc/tGxHdtb5nGs/s400/sailingSOULsFRONT-600x401-580x387.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.blindiforthekids.com/blind-i/2011/03/jhene-aiko-sailing-souls/">download</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><a href="http://www.blindiforthekids.com/blind-i/2011/03/jhene-aiko-sailing-souls/">Introduced to me</a> by Maiya over at <a href="http://www.blindiforthekids.com/">Blind I For The Kids</a>, this tape is extra smooth. It's one of those laying in bed, shades drawn, no talking, body warming compilations.<br /><br /><b>Jae Franklin // Always Needed You</b><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MH7tmn1ijCk/TYlnNIk59kI/AAAAAAAAAtk/ZiQjpwTii5Y/s1600/219783190-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MH7tmn1ijCk/TYlnNIk59kI/AAAAAAAAAtk/ZiQjpwTii5Y/s400/219783190-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://jaefranklin.bandcamp.com/">download</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>Okay, I proudly <i>(sort of)</i> admit that I am one of those people who listens to music, memorizes all the lyrics, but could never recall what they say. I can't help it - I'm always too caught up in the harmonies and trying to find ways to add my own riffs on top. This mixtape makes me LOVE BEAUTIFUL MUSIC. <i>The HARMONIES</i>. Ugh, I can't. I mean, obviously, I can. <br /><br /><b>Zeyi // Working For Bill</b><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yMYbvI82bks/TYlpGdawXMI/AAAAAAAAAt0/O-FcdnwUGfA/s1600/3320833760-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yMYbvI82bks/TYlpGdawXMI/AAAAAAAAAt0/O-FcdnwUGfA/s400/3320833760-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://zeyi.bandcamp.com/album/zeyi-working-for-bill">download</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>Yeah, I know him. But that's not why I'm noting his mixtape as one of my top listens right now. Working For Bill is a work of art that happens to have been completed by one of my peers. It's incredibly fun, thoughtful, and striking. Download immediately.<br /><br /><b>Miguel // Mischief</b><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tcGPs43XXC4/TYlvItLTaeI/AAAAAAAAAuE/hoZoHB_Kins/s1600/miguel-mischief1-300x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tcGPs43XXC4/TYlvItLTaeI/AAAAAAAAAuE/hoZoHB_Kins/s400/miguel-mischief1-300x300.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.zshare.net/download/19671876268df0d5/">download</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>By no means new, I couldn't let this list of current favorite music go by without a note about Miguel. In fact, I don't think I have to say much else aside from LED microphone (if you've seen recent performances, you're right there with me).<br /><br /><b>DJ NYACK // Dwele Tape Vol. 2</b><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EKzge-1CSFQ/TYltlBnxoxI/AAAAAAAAAt8/c5tRKu7CzOE/s1600/dweletape2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EKzge-1CSFQ/TYltlBnxoxI/AAAAAAAAAt8/c5tRKu7CzOE/s400/dweletape2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.blindiforthekids.com/blind-i/2011/02/dj-nyack-dwele-tape-vol-2/#more-22968">download</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>This mix makes me want to take my clothes off, put on my softest robe, pour a glass of wine (with the rest of the bottle on standby), and ignore the world. It would also go well with hookah, sunsets, sexin', and love.<br /><br />What are your favorites? </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-6373872644507243808?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-46370582585761056372011-03-18T10:17:00.001-04:002011-03-18T10:17:55.870-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jne7077EwQE/TYNpQ2HVkGI/AAAAAAAAAtM/sVFEGIkXMpM/s1600/forjapanwithlove_blog.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jne7077EwQE/TYNpQ2HVkGI/AAAAAAAAAtM/sVFEGIkXMpM/s1600/forjapanwithlove_blog.gif" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">want to help? <a href="http://forjapanwithlove.com/">click</a>.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />xoxo,<br />m</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-4637058258576105637?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-4695853226333452262011-03-13T21:25:00.001-04:002011-03-13T22:23:41.298-04:00Came across this video on <a href="http://teamyee.tv/2011/03/09/what-is-true-love-duuuuuh/">Angela Yee's blog</a> and had to re-post it here. It's a super cute video (part 1) of 5 people trying to answer the title question: "What is True Love?"<br /><br />It's a piece shot by <a href="http://space190.com/">Studio 190</a> for <a href="http://readconvention.com/">convention magazine</a>, a creative space focusing on the emotions and thoughts behind everything, be it fashion, artwork, etc. Enjoy:<br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/20765815" width="640" height="360" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/20765815">WHAT IS TRUE LOVE? (Part One)</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/andrewfennell">SPACE190</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /><center>♥</center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-469585322633345226?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-69056625130594607312011-03-06T16:30:00.000-05:002011-03-06T16:30:09.907-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">My friends often have something to say about the type of guy I find myself falling for. They are incredibly well dressed, devastatingly handsome, and always pretty. Think: <a href="http://images.eonline.com/eol_images/Entire_Site/20081230/425.underwood.blair.lc.123008.jpg">Blair Underwood</a>/<a href="http://www.exposay.com/celebrity-photos/jason-lewis-2004-vanity-fair-oscar-party-00Oqcv.jpg">Jason Lewis</a>. I can't help it; I like a guy to look good. When I express interest in a dude who looks like he forgot to shower, the reaction is very similar to the shocked g-chat emoticon:<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Pz4E8eYS-G4/TXPwMcAONeI/AAAAAAAAAtI/15dLQHx93iE/s1600/shocked+emoticon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Pz4E8eYS-G4/TXPwMcAONeI/AAAAAAAAAtI/15dLQHx93iE/s1600/shocked+emoticon.jpg" /></a></div><br />Here are my five reasons Why I Love Pretty Boys:<b> </b><br /><br /><b>He loves to shop</b><br />This is important because I love to shop. I could shop for hours on end, spend hours in the dressing room making sure the items are right, and will spend the day bogged down with bags all for a hard day's work. In fact, shopping is in my blood - my mother calls shopping "fieldwork" because it really is <i>work</i>. Be it online, in the stores, or otherwise, we will go to town making sure we get the best deals and the best items. If he loves to shop, it means we won't have any of those <i>"but how long can you really shop for??"</i> and <i>"are we done yet???"</i> arguments when I'm just getting into the heat of my purchasing. <br /><br /><b>I'm never worried about what he'll show up wearing</b><br />I've dated the guy who needs outfit direction and it's exhausting. Well, wait, don't get me wrong... it can be fun to play dress up with your man, mostly because you both end up naked anyway. But there is nothing more calming than knowing that no matter where you go, your boo will show up dressed appropriately. No jeans around his knees, no Air Force Ones when he should be wearing Prada Loafers. Phew - crisis averted. <br /><br /><b>He won't judge my exploding closet</b><br />Because his looks just like mine. But he's a boy so most of it is all over his floor too. This is also a key point because it makes me feel great that most of my closet is in my <a href="http://i.cdn.hbo.com/assets/images/series/sex-and-the-city/slideshows/interiors/carrie-interior-06-1024.jpg">Carrie &amp; Aidan inspired arm chair</a>. Oops.<br /><br /><b>He doesn't know how to dress down</b><br />Let it be noted that with all this "pretty boy" stuff, one may have concerns if said "pretty boy" likes "pretty girls". The true test for me (aside from the one in the bedroom) is how he dresses down because he doesn't really know how and ends up wearing crazy colors that only a dude wouldn't care about. Trust that if you look like a real hot mess, you'll have me at "eep!"<br /><br /><b>When he goes scruffy, it's a nice surprise</b><br />Please. Don't deny the scruff. PLEASE. Because I love it. It allows me to indulge in my occasional bad boy fantasies if my pretty boy is looking a little rough around the edges. It's also a nice surprise when we see each other shortly after your shape up. Keeping that element of surprise alive keeps the butterflies flying in my belly.</div><br /><hr /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><b>What I'm drinking this week:</b> <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/_anyak_">my roommate</a> often goes to this itty bitty liquor store a few blocks from our apartment. Ever since she mentioned it when she was buying a gift for her man, I've meant to check it out. Last night I discovered they have more of my favorite wine than even Trader Joe's! Thanks for the tip, roomie :). <br /><br />This week I'm drinking a beautiful South African Sauvignon Blanc by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/IndabaWines">Indaba Wines</a>. Yum.</i></span> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-6905662513059460731?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-63919489483174359632011-03-06T14:57:00.001-05:002011-03-06T14:59:49.275-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I want to be able to call myself a writer, but I have yet to reach the frequency with which I think "a writer" should be writing. This is self imposed of course, but still is my reasoning all the same.<br /><br />When I'm not writing, or trying to write, or thinking about writing, or cursing myself for not writing or thinking about writing... I'm working. Like yesterday, when I managed a team of models handing out the YSL Manifesto in NYC. I had several <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/allievino">lovely</a> <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/lariluv">visitors</a>, but my favorite photo documentation is of <a href="http://www.thepostcool.com/">Dushane</a>.&nbsp; <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KCLp9aG_wNk/TXPmJ8fcj9I/AAAAAAAAAtA/NBt_TJyDErY/s1600/IMG_7229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KCLp9aG_wNk/TXPmJ8fcj9I/AAAAAAAAAtA/NBt_TJyDErY/s640/IMG_7229.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-nGJCkez4xBw/TXPmLGU0CII/AAAAAAAAAtE/hwAJLs31M98/s1600/IMG_7233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-nGJCkez4xBw/TXPmLGU0CII/AAAAAAAAAtE/hwAJLs31M98/s640/IMG_7233.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />If I were a fashion blogger, I'd be so proud of myself and my photo taking skills. But because I'm not a fashion blogger/photographer, I'm even prouder. Makes me want to buy a fancy camera and do a lot of pretending in the streets.<br /><br />xx,<br />MJ<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-6391948948317435963?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-630048324690593032011-02-22T23:15:00.004-05:002011-02-22T23:18:03.026-05:00<center><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/19960164?portrait=0" width="600" height="338" frameborder="0"></iframe><br /></center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-63004832469059303?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-66485129191524121322011-02-14T18:19:00.002-05:002011-02-14T18:20:52.607-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>a fictional short story</i><br /><hr /><br /><i><b>There was something about him</b></i>, with his kind eyes and gentle smile, that she just couldn't let go of. <i><b>There was something about him</b></i> with his shy gaze and sweet disposition, that just sent her <i>sailing</i>.<br /><br />She saw him every morning at her local coffee shop, Dunkin Donuts. She liked him because he liked the Beantown coffee staple as much as she did, though they both lived in Astoria, Queens (her favorite NYC borough).<br /><br />She ordered her usual, a large regular coffee, skim milk, no sugar.<br /><br />"No sugar??" they always asked.<br /><br />"Yes, no sugar" she'd reply, thinking <i>I get that from my mom</i>. She'd wait, watching him out the corner of her eye, enjoying his coffee and the AM daily. An unconventional newspaper choice to enjoy over coffee that made her swoon even more.<br /><br />They saw each other often, being in the same morning schedule and all, but had never uttered a word. Just a quick glance and a shy smile.<br /><br /><br /><br /><center>***</center><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wvBWEo24JVU/TVm4ebk-rxI/AAAAAAAAAss/Y1lEcQF-zJc/s1600/prsic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="329" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wvBWEo24JVU/TVm4ebk-rxI/AAAAAAAAAss/Y1lEcQF-zJc/s400/prsic.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://leloveimage.blogspot.com/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />She had taken to listening to Sade's <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7qFmvQp_MA">Please Send Me Someone to Love</a></i> as she went about her morning routine. she felt it was a simple request. She crossed her fingers as she listened for good luck, and treated the song like one of her daily affirmations.<br /><br />One lazy Saturday, we woke up early and went to her favorite Dunkin Donuts on a whim. She sat at a table in the window and gazed outside. As she took her last sip of coffee and the lyrics progressed...<br /><br /><blockquote><i>Heaven please send to all mankind, / Understanding and peace of mind. / But if it's not asking too much, / Please send me someone to love.</i></blockquote><br />... in he walked.<br /><br />"Hey" he finally said. <br /><br />"Hey" she said back, a little too quickly.<br /><br />"John" he noted, pointing slightly at his chest.<br /><br />"Hi..." she said dreamily. "Oh! Meena!" she remembered, looking down with embarrassment. <br /><br />He held her stare, then went to the counter to order: "two regular coffees, skim milk, no sugar."<br /><br />"No sugar??" they always asked.<br /><br />"Yes, no sugar;" then he looked back at her, and smiled his gentle smile.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-6648512919152412132?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-68553388422170190232011-02-12T19:49:00.003-05:002011-02-12T19:51:19.184-05:00Have I mentioned it yet? No? Curious.<br /><br /><center><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/19749132?byline=0&amp;portrait=0&amp;color=ff0179" width="601" height="338" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/19749132">Erykah Badu - Gone Baby, Don't be Long</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/beeple">beeple</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p></center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-6855338842217019023?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-65339797944872052472011-02-08T16:32:00.002-05:002011-02-08T16:45:24.089-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><blockquote><i>"You know what, Albie? I'm glad Maiah's gone through heartbreak. She's really loved and lost."</i><br /><i> </i><br /><i>Mom, appalled, looks at Dad with her best side eye and says: "what? why?"</i><br /><i> </i><br /><i>"Because it's giving her some good hair on her back. She's a real tough chick."</i></blockquote>My mother called me to relay this conversation with my father later that day. I fabricated the side eye, but I'm positive Mom slipped it in as she's pretty good at them.<br />At first I was feeling<span style="font-size: x-large;"> <i>a way.</i></span> <span style="font-size: small;">I mean, w</span>ho says they are glad for your heartbreak? ...But then, after discussing further I could see exactly what Dad was trying to say in a way that only Dad's can. <u>The heartbreak isn't what's good</u>. It's the life experiences. The lessons learned. The strength and wisdom gained.<br /><br />But of course, when you're drowning your sorrows in Ben &amp; Jerry's (or in my case, mango sorbet) with a bottle of wine (who needs a glass?), the last thing you want to hear is "you're learning great lessons."<br /><b><i> </i></b><br /><b><i>Fuck a lesson! I've got a broken heart and a carton full of calories to ingest!</i></b><br /><br /><center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AhjCh6iZ1lI" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe></center><br />Later, I'm sitting in my favorite hookah bar with my <a href="http://thepostcool.com/">favorite male friend</a>, talking about none other than the always important topic of sex and relationships. Reminiscing about our past break ups, we found ourselves laughing at the transition from "sniffling baby" to "social butterfly and dater". One day, it feels like you'll never make it out alive, and the next day - you feel like a million bucks.<br /><br />The thing is, there's always strength on the horizon, and that makes me think that every experience with someone, be it your significant other, your faux-friend is a learning experience. But don't worry, I'll wait to admit that until I'm fully healed because the say hindsight is 20/20.<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-6533979794487205247?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-49919311800174934232011-02-05T15:46:00.001-05:002011-02-05T15:47:14.075-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It's an unfortunate discovery when you move to New York City and realize that life is <i>nothing</i> like the Sex &amp; the City episodes that drove you to move to the city in the first place.<br /><br /><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TU2qaGixrbI/AAAAAAAAAsY/kDcJmfo6kog/s1600/satc-episode-11_l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TU2qaGixrbI/AAAAAAAAAsY/kDcJmfo6kog/s1600/satc-episode-11_l.jpg" /></a></div><br />My life is NOT filled with the following:<br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Relentless sexy-time with handsome men who drop stock tips upon orgasm (Samantha)</li><li>Rich, loving, handsome, nice men - two of which have proposed to <i>and</i> married me (Charlotte)</li><li>A bar-owning, bar-tending soul mate and a successful career as a lawyer (Miranda)</li><li>A man with a driver who brings me red balloons &amp; champers on my birthday (Carrie) </li></ul><br />I do, however have a wonderful selection of women that I think of as my soul mates. Our lunches, dinners, and brunches revolve around the most no holds barred sex talk this side of the Hudson and we all love a good martini (cosmopolitan for me, please). And despite the harsh realization that the Sex &amp; the City life isn't the norm for New Yorkers - I'm happy.&nbsp;</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It is impossible to deny that the episodes are relate-able. It's impossible to go to out with the girls and not hear at least twice "it's like that episode of Sex &amp; the City when..." because they always come full circle in our real lives. Is that to say we're living recklessly, or forcing a correlation? Who cares? But it's the reason why we love the show.</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TU23FkF9pxI/AAAAAAAAAsg/vlbas_G9We4/s1600/satc-s02-ep13_l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TU23FkF9pxI/AAAAAAAAAsg/vlbas_G9We4/s1600/satc-s02-ep13_l.jpg" /></a></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-4991931180017493423?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-75822385293905717932011-02-01T22:00:00.001-05:002011-02-01T22:00:34.132-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TUjHlNhcB5I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/PRTPBCefdLI/s1600/Untitled-1.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="103" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TUjHlNhcB5I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/PRTPBCefdLI/s400/Untitled-1.2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Suburban Girl no more...</td></tr></tbody></table>Going through some changes over here. Stick with me as I re-brand the blog and welcome some new content to my brand new and very shiny .com. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7582238529390571793?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-79145494030329570292011-01-26T21:02:00.001-05:002011-01-26T21:10:44.638-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">...but I desperately hope my future hubby gets me these for my wedding gift (<i>alongside some fabulous jewelry of course)</i>.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TUDRhVODerI/AAAAAAAAAro/OsSQa5xF9Ug/s1600/justmarriednikes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TUDRhVODerI/AAAAAAAAAro/OsSQa5xF9Ug/s640/justmarriednikes.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.accidentalchic.com/2010/12/best-wedding-of-2010-ben-meaghan-taylor.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Just putting it out into the universe.<br /><br />xoxo, mj </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7914549403032957029?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-79746518862096375412010-12-31T15:11:00.001-05:002010-12-31T15:12:04.089-05:00It's been a hell of a year, hasn't it?<br /><br />The ups and the downs.<br />The smiles and the frowns.<br />The happy faces and the side eyes.<br /><br />I'm thrilled for the new year. 2010 ain't got nothin' on what 2011 is about to be.<br /><br />I've got a good feeling.<br /><br /><center><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WM1RChZk1EU?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WM1RChZk1EU?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></center><br /><br />See you in the new year!<br />xoxo,<br />MJ<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7974651886209637541?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-15421051696215791142010-12-28T23:22:00.002-05:002010-12-28T23:25:06.851-05:00I love me a fashion and beauty blog, I really, really, <i>really</i> do... but I there are always a few things I can't help but cringe towards when I see them in those beautiful photos.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TRpYcCa6f2I/AAAAAAAAAq0/_PTJvkxtDMk/wendywilliamsican2527t.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TRpYcCa6f2I/AAAAAAAAAq0/_PTJvkxtDMk/wendywilliamsican2527t.gif" width="196" /></a></div><br />Here are my current Five Trends I Just Can't Get Behind:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>1. Jeffrey Campbell Lita Shoes</b></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NVuAKTTGdH8/TQKAe5_32VI/AAAAAAAAVas/5ZPAYIqqsCw/s1600/lita+shoe+by+JEFFREY+CAMPBELL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="158" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NVuAKTTGdH8/TQKAe5_32VI/AAAAAAAAVas/5ZPAYIqqsCw/s400/lita+shoe+by+JEFFREY+CAMPBELL.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.myfacehunter.com/2010/12/lita-shoe-jeffrey-campbell.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>Aaaaaaaaah! Please!!! Someone! Help! Tell me why! Because I just can't understand. And I love Jeffrey Campbell shoes! So comfortable and well made. But these? iCant.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>2. 3-D Nails</b></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TRqq4RWb8lI/AAAAAAAAAq4/a2-P2p_bJrI/s1600/3Dnails415.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TRqq4RWb8lI/AAAAAAAAAq4/a2-P2p_bJrI/s400/3Dnails415.jpeg" width="353" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/lifestyle/article-23888714-going-gaga-for-3d-nails.do">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>Eep!! Why would you do that! I'll give you a little rhinestone or something "classically" middle school (sorry, that's when I remember rhinestones on nails the most), but why on earth are your fingernails talking to me? iCant.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>3. Backpacks for Grown Ups</b></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_luW06-4IyIw/TOMdlJR7xVI/AAAAAAAAA50/YbCeY5zzdQs/s640/chanel+back+pack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_luW06-4IyIw/TOMdlJR7xVI/AAAAAAAAA50/YbCeY5zzdQs/s400/chanel+back+pack.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://thebohemiangoods.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-unlikely-christmas-wishlist.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>I equate backpacks with college parties. They are usually stacked full of some sort of classy beverage like Natty Ice or PBR. If you're really lucky, you might also find some Hypnotiq, a bandaid, a hair tie, an ace bandage, and a pen. Just because it says Chanel or Vuitton doesn't mean I'm not judging you (and hoping you'll give me a beverage). iCant.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>4. Sheer Clothing</b></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TRqy3rcIHyI/AAAAAAAAArA/RxM0LjIenss/s1600/mat5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TRqy3rcIHyI/AAAAAAAAArA/RxM0LjIenss/s400/mat5.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://www.fashiontoast.com/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>I get it. Sometimes its nice to have something a little sheer on to show off your curves. But I can't understand showing everyone ALL of your unmentionables. What ever happened to slips? Old fashioned? Maybe. Classy? Definitely. iCant.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>5. Full Body Jewelry</b></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/8756/erinal1zy2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/8756/erinal1zy2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://img146.imageshack.us/i/erinal1zy2.jpg/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table>I actually think, if done right, this could be a good look, but the functionality of it makes me nervous. I'm notoriously clumsy with my jewelry. I can't even begin to guess how many Forever21 necklaces I've accidentally caught on a railing (or even the stove) and have had to toss after a night out. These vests and such are a lawsuit waiting to happen for me. And how dominatrix. iCant.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1542105169621579114?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-25229009998916721922010-12-28T17:19:00.001-05:002011-01-27T06:08:49.047-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Chapter 3 in the series <a href="http://suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com/search/label/A%20History%20of%20Dating">A History of Dating</a>. Click the link to catch up.<br /><br /><hr /><br />She was home.<br /><br />She decided she needed some time, despite having gained perspective and accepted the break up. She needed to pick up the pieces, and reassemble them into something whole so she declared a Man-Hiatus, or Maniatus for short.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i52.tinypic.com/23jhlk3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://i52.tinypic.com/23jhlk3.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://leloveimage.blogspot.com/">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br />She filled her time with work, with books, with movies and friends. With Sex &amp; the City episodes and 2-for-1 martinis. <br /><br />She didn't go out much on the weekends, and when she did, she stayed huddled in the circle of friends she came with. She as afraid to branch out. She was afraid to stop the progress of working on rebuilding herself.<br /><br />It was positive. And positively tragic... Until she met O.<br /><br />Her night began assembling an outfit inspired by Madonna for Halloween. With leggings, three too many pairs of legwarmers, an oversized t-shirt, and numerous vodka sodas, she was feeling invincible. She went out with friends with no intentions of meeting anyone. Just some lighthearted flirting – this was maniatus time after all.<br /><br />After a bottle of Prosecco, some old school jams (read: Jodeci), a house party that came to a rousing end with a visit from the police, more drinks, a cab ride downtown, then back uptown, and then an open tab at a bar where Miley Cirus played more than Beyonce... she was feeling ready(?).<br /><br />She’d just finished doing the running man in a circle of random people when she noticed a man at the bar starring at her with a smirk.<br />"What the fuck are you looking at?" she slurred through the cocktails.<br /><br />“I'm just admiring the view" ... maniatus was officially over.<br /><br />O was everything she needed. An extra large chunk of muscle that loved to cuddle and coddle. He was sweet, though not necessarily smart, but he as a model so it was okay. She couldn’t go anywhere without receiving a text asking how her day was. She was beaming... And ignoring the unfortunate bits.<br /><br />She wasn’t looking for more than he was offering, and she used him to regain her comfort spending time with men. But with every use of the word “baby” and “honey” and “sweetie” she was falling further and further in to the vortex called rebound.<br /><br />Until one morning he attempted a real conversation that began and ended with one phrase from him: <i>Did you really read ALL those books?</i><br /><br />She glanced at her bookshelf, which housed only a small selection of her recently read pieces of literature and mumbled something quickly about having a brunch date and that he should go.<br /><br />She never saw him again.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-2522900999891672192?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-329849813216333222010-12-26T16:36:00.002-05:002011-02-05T16:05:43.197-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>Take a moment and refresh your memories - <a href="http://suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com/2010/10/suburban-girl-reflects-history-of.html">I wrote this</a> with the intention of starting a series. Here is Chapter 2: Getting Over... Wait, Who?</i><br /><br /><hr /><br />On the corner of 56 &amp; 6th, she watched him dart through traffic, feeling her hands shake.<br /><br />She hopped on the uptown train and met her girls for the debrief. As she told what she now refers to as "the tale of 56th &amp; 6th", she watched them all drop their jaws in disbelief.<br /><br /><i>You don't need him!</i> One would interject.<br /><i>What an asshole!</i> Another would add.<br /><i>Wait, what's his name again?</i> Another would slip in with a smirk, thinking it was helpful.<br /><br />And it was! She left dinner slightly drunk and a little empowered. <br />Until she got home to the smell of his cologne on her pillows. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i55.tinypic.com/i1a9uu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://i55.tinypic.com/i1a9uu.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://leloveimage.blogspot.com/2010/12/3-am.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><center>She cried for days.</center><br /><br />She found herself at brunch the next day at the beginning stages of the motions of a break up.<br /><br /><b>Step 1: Sadness</b><br /><br /><i>How do you feel?</i> Her girl asked her at brunch the next weekend.<br /><i>Look at her. She's miserable.</i> Another answered before she could.<br /><br />Her eyes were dark, watery, and swollen. Her nose red, her purse filled with a jumbo pack of travel sized tissues. She cried over brunch, she cried over drinks, she cried when her roommates were cooking in the kitchen across the hall.<br /><br /><b>Step 2: Denial</b><br /><br />She began to think he would call, that he'd facebook her, that he'd text or show up at her door. She would wait for silly things that don't adhere to her generation - like a hand written love letter. Or even a love email. She was convinced it'd come. She didn't care that it never would.<br /><br /><b>Step 3: Hatred</b><br /><br />True to form, she began to hate. It wasn't because of the words he said or the actions he took as he darted across 56th &amp; 6th. It was because in this melodramatic state of a break up, hatred was the only way she felt she could stay alive.<br /><br /><b>Step 4: Acceptance</b><br /><br />Acceptance was not something she came to knowingly or on her own, but by surprise with the help of her girlfriends. She glanced at herself in the mirror one day and recognized her face. It was lacking the swollen eyes, it was lacking the red nose, and it had a trace of a smile.<br /><br />She was home.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TU27iC5OigI/AAAAAAAAAsk/SOcapF6MNE8/s1600/5415383366_f4f2afd255_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TU27iC5OigI/AAAAAAAAAsk/SOcapF6MNE8/s1600/5415383366_f4f2afd255_o.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://leloveimage.blogspot.com/2010/12/this-is-me-moving-on.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><hr /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Everyone goes through the motions of a break up differently. But usually, everyone ends up looking like <a href="http://iwasjustdumped.com/?p=123">this chick</a> and experiencing some form of the above.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">It's never pretty. But what comes next usually is...</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-32984981321633322?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-16695724324031344012010-12-24T19:51:00.002-05:002010-12-24T20:05:03.940-05:00As I sit at home drinking South African wine chatting about loving New York (a complete 180 from last year), loving my friends (as always) and loving the great group of men in my life, I felt compelled to switch the channel from I.D. to Lifetime to enjoy some romantic comedies surrounding the holidays.<br /><br />And, thus, please enjoy my holiday inspired post: My Top 5 Holiday Movies (on Lifetime and otherwise):<br /><br /><center><br /><b> 5. Elf</b><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zfPw55iMXqk?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zfPw55iMXqk?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />Um, if you don't like Elf, then you are completely out of your mind. And I feel sorry for you. Don't worry, there's usually an Elf marathon on TNT Christmas Day.<br /><br /><b> 4. How The Grinch Stole Christmas</b>&nbsp;</center><center>(cartoon version)<br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nzXKWKaxt3c?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nzXKWKaxt3c?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />I've been watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas every year on Christmas Eve for as long as I can remember. Not only is it a childhood favorite, but it remains one of my favorite traditions (alongside exchanging one gift before bed). <i>Note: I can't watch the Jim Carey remake. It gives me the creeps.</i><br /><br /><b> 3. The Family Stone </b><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_wM0Zn3493o?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_wM0Zn3493o?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br />I absolutely love this movie for a number of reasons. Aside from the incredible story line and great cast, it reminds me every year of the importance of family, especially during the holiday season. <br /><br /><b> 2. Love Acutally</b><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7b9LxJUAL8Q?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7b9LxJUAL8Q?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br />I pretty much die for this movie. I can't let the holiday season go by without watching it at least twice. And it's one of my top three go-to movies when I need a little romantic comedy in my life.<br /><br /><b> 1. A Christmas Story</b><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uvMLfSQrHKE?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uvMLfSQrHKE?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />If you don't love this movie and watch it on repeat starting at 8pm on Christmas Eve then you have a cold, dark heart. Fa-ra-ra-ra-raaaa ra-ra-ra-raaaa!<br /></center><br /><br /><br />What are some of your favorite holiday traditions?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1669572432403134401?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-57899694239523445482010-12-16T01:25:00.000-05:002010-12-16T01:25:00.837-05:00<center> <object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kf9W7cxi48g?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kf9W7cxi48g?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object> </center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-5789969423952344548?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-27633593721656634502010-12-11T19:34:00.002-05:002010-12-11T19:40:57.834-05:00It's Saturday morning, I'm on the train platform, waiting for the N, listening to Zeyi's <a href="http://zeyi.bandcamp.com/album/zeyi-working-for-bill">Working for Bill</a>*, and hoping for inspiration so I can dust the blog off with some fresh writing&nbsp;when it hits me. Hard:<br /><br /><b>You can't have it all.</b><br /><br />Now, this is a shock. And a bit concerning. And totally disheartening to me. I whip out my notebook and scribble down the idea before I head out on my errands for the day, all revolving around work.<br /><br /><center> <object width="425" height="25"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iMpXAknykeg?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iMpXAknykeg?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"></embed></object> </center><br /><br />You can't have it all? <i>Really?</i> I suppose it's hard to accept, or grasp because it's the opposite of everything I've ever been told. As an only child and single woman, I grew up thinking I could have whatever I set my mind to. Wanna move to NYC? Done. Wanna get a new job? Done. Wanna get that boy at the bar? Done. Wanna get those shoes? Charged. <br /><br />But then I got online and did a little research, and the <a href="http://www.forbes.com/2009/03/17/work-life-ceo-leadership-careers-imbalance.html">results</a> <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/heather-cabot/you-cant-have-it-all-at-t_b_75276.html">were</a> <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/05/20/AR2010052002122.html">so</a> <a href="http://www.sex-lies-dating.com/2010/12/07/you-cant-have-it-all/">depressing</a>.<br /><br />Uh, what's that?<br /><br /><b>You can't have it all.</b><br /><br />Oh. Okay. <br /><br />At the beginning of 2010, I did not have it all. I was incredibly single and incredibly sad. I was grateful for one thing: a job that kept me so busy I had no time for thoughts or friends. My days circled around events and industry parties; and it was exactly what I needed to get by.<br /><br />The summer changed everything. I was making time for friends, making new friends, and trying my hardest to enjoy my 20's. At the same time, I was working harder than I'd worked before. The most epic day was my birthday, where I clocked at least 12 hours at work before heading off to Fashion's Night Out (an important evening for my industry), and then celebrating my 25th. I was on top of the world. Did I have it all? I considered it a possibility but they say hindsight is 20/20 and I now know that's not the case.<br /><br />Flash forward to December and things have reversed from where they were almost a year ago. I have almost everything I've ever wanted in a solid group of friends who preoccupy the majority of my time when I'm not working. Yet, I feel unfulfilled in other areas.<br /><br />So wait, <b>you can't have it all?</b><br /><br />Hm. Do you think that's the case? I mean, what does "all" really entail when it comes to your life? Love, happiness, a great career, wonderful friends to lean on? Does one always suffer to allow you to achieve the rest?<br /><br />I suppose I'm on a <i>blind</i> journey to see what's true; throughout which I've been keeping this gift from my mother on my wrist (in the form of a bracelet with the following inscribed) <br /><br /><blockquote><i>Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and he will make your paths straight.</i> Proverbs 3:5-6</blockquote><br />I'll let you know where I net out. Where did you?<br /><br /><br /><hr /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">*Note, Working for Bill did not inspire such a sad little post. It inspired me to be creative because it's a work of art. If you're not listening, <a href="http://zeyi.bandcamp.com/album/zeyi-working-for-bill">you should be</a>.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-2763359372165663450?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-37597276501339396882010-12-02T08:49:00.001-05:002010-12-02T08:49:33.352-05:00After reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (which didn't get it's own "Suburban Girl Reads"), I needed a breather. I'm currently recouping with Something Blue by Emily Giffin.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1169872543l/42155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1169872543l/42155.jpg" /></a></div><br />I'm still incredibly surprised how wonderful and quick this series goes by once you crack open the front cover. And I'm still <a href="http://suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com/2010/07/suburban-girl-reads-something-borrowed.html">laughing audibly on the N/Q</a> on the way to work.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-3759727650133939688?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-5254276382702687922010-11-24T15:57:00.001-05:002010-11-24T16:06:44.737-05:00<center><a href="http://s651.photobucket.com/albums/uu231/firewaller/?action=view&amp;current=6a00d83454b17a69e2011570b06dae970c-.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="400" src="http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu231/firewaller/6a00d83454b17a69e2011570b06dae970c-.jpg" width="355" /></a></center><br /><br />I used to be terrified of the age 25. Seriously, 25 was my extra scary age. I used to think, “ohmygah*, 25?!!” <br /><br />Every birthday celebrated felt like a minor death sentence. It was all very dramatic – like, Elle Woods breaking up with her boyfriend dramatic.<br /><br /><br /><br /><center><object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/37qYkE76jcw?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/37qYkE76jcw?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></center><br /><br />I didn’t even celebrate 24. I worked and went to bed instead (ahem, the 25 year old me thinks the 24 year old me is super-lame). <br /><br />But to be clear, I cemented 25 as my <a href="http://chrisnarbone.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/armageddon29zbastroid.jpg">Armageddon</a> back when I turned 18. I had the coolest girlfriends, I was in a super hot a cappella group, and I basically thought I was the shit. What could get better than being 18 and extra hot*? Clearly, I was blinded.<br /><br />If I could give my 18 year old self a side eye* I would. Now, that’s not to say I don’t have the occasional “eep! I’m 25!” moment. The most clear being the time I wouldn’t buy candy for some boy’s “basketball team” on the street and he called me an “uptight old head*” .......... iCant.<br /><br />That said, being 25 (I celebrated my birthday in September) is so rich and ripe.<br /><br /><ul><li>It’s like<b> </b>being a teenager, except you're 5 years from 30.</li><li>It’s like being in college except you live in the city, pay rent and big girl bills, and have lots of sex.</li><li>It’s like being a foolish hot mess, except for when you’re at the office, because then you’re buttoned up and super fly.</li><li>It’s like being version 2.5 or 3GS (but not quite 4G because I’m not quite 30).</li><li>It’s like being “MJ Fadeaway” + “Maiah on Fiyah” + “Ms. Johnson (<i>if you’re nasty</i>)” all the time.</li></ul><br />...and I love it.<br /><br /><br />What was your scary turned favorite age?<br /><br /><hr /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">*"ohmygah" - copyright 2003 – 2010</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">*I was actually fat with a pretty face. But still. Confidence is a hell of a drug.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">*What’s a <a href="http://side-eye-fever.crunktastical.net/">side eye</a>? <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Side+Eye">Click here</a>.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">*What’s an old head? <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=old+head">Click here</a>.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-525427638270268792?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-57480930942924916802010-11-14T20:54:00.000-05:002010-11-14T20:54:48.395-05:00<center><br />You all know I'm in love with Drake. This music video made me fall a little harder. Enjoy.<br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/U0CGsw6h60k?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/U0CGsw6h60k?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br /><br /></center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-5748093094292491680?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-15046156825112813402010-11-12T22:13:00.001-05:002010-11-13T11:06:27.942-05:00My dear friend, Larissa of <a href="http://theellaproject.wordpress.com/">The Ella Project</a>, wrote a <a href="http://theellaproject.wordpress.com/2010/11/09/too-connected-how-to-fix-it/">brilliant piece</a> on technology and how it allows us to be too connected without actually <i>connecting.</i>&nbsp;You see, we live in an age where we are all <a href="http://www.facebook.com/">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://twitter.com/">Twitter</a> babies. We exist behind a series of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emoticon">emoticons</a> and <a href="http://www.appsoftwebdesign.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/facebook_like_button_big.jpg">"like" buttons</a>; <a href="http://www.suite101.com/content/twitter-hashtags-retweets-and-replies-a161729">retweets and hashtags</a>.<br /><br />Personally, I'm okay with it. I hate talking on the phone unless I'm talking to my mother. Why? Because I am convinced I can NEVER hear anything you say. When I get confused I just say "okay" or laugh in hopes that you'll think I know what you're saying instead of having to ask "wait, WHAT?" for the 5th time. Especially living in New York City, where people are shouting expletives on the street and ambulance sirens are the normal background noise. Why go through the "one second, a police car is going by"when I could just text you a simple "see you in 5."<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TN63UBNwNQI/AAAAAAAAApI/rhbJjHst0j4/s1600/Larissa_Mystery_Gchat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TN63UBNwNQI/AAAAAAAAApI/rhbJjHst0j4/s320/Larissa_Mystery_Gchat.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This mystery gchat couldn't have come at a better time.</td></tr></tbody></table>Moreover, I love a good emoticon conversation. When words get in the way, there's nothing like a quick emoticon <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0IrFLVbKH4">stink eye</a> or wink face to get straight to the point. And a hot, smoking poop instead of a civilized "no thank you." in an email? I'll take it.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://techrageo.us/images/gmailchathide.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://techrageo.us/images/gmailchathide.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />That said, there is something so necessary about human to human contact. Larissa notes:<br /><blockquote><i>There is something about human contact. Something about actually hearing someone laugh rather than see an “lol”. [...] Let’s meet each other for drinks, dinner, laughter and hugs.</i></blockquote>Wait! Lets! Because a well wishing tweet or the happiest of emoticons can never give across the same feeling as a hug. There is a reason why we say things like "I have the greatest story for you, let's catch up over drinks or dinner." And there is nothing like seeing those reactions in your friend's eyes as you tell it.<br /><br />So, where do you draw the line? Apparently, it's getting blurrier as we get further in to this technologically advanced world we live in.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amny.com/urbanite-1.812039/rights-you-don-t-have-many-when-it-comes-to-getting-fired-for-facebook-1.2453311">AM New York</a> felt it was front page worthy to note that more and more people are getting the axe from their employer due to writing inappropriate things about their bosses or jobs online. This generation of kids growing up on twitter are learning to express themselves in 140 characters or less. When I grew up, I couldn't leave the dinner table before talking in full paragraphs about my day and finishing all the broccoli on my plate.<br /><br />There must be some middle ground. I feel lucky enough to know where to find my plateau. It starts with some cosmopolitans at <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/pazza-notte-new-york-2">Pazza Notte</a> and my favorite girlfriends telling those great stories that we save for the reactions.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs024.snc4/33584_543187426022_14100740_32160462_2109224_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs024.snc4/33584_543187426022_14100740_32160462_2109224_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />Where's yours?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1504615682511281340?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-36222676937033767472010-11-11T23:55:00.000-05:002010-11-12T22:22:02.164-05:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TNzCl5lcHWI/AAAAAAAAApE/xSpeDfeIZpE/s1600/c_11_twitter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TNzCl5lcHWI/AAAAAAAAApE/xSpeDfeIZpE/s400/c_11_twitter.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A <a href="http://twitter.com/">tweet</a> by dear friend, <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/RamirezCarolina">Carolina</a>, of <a href="http://www.unitedstatesofmascara.com/">United States of Mascara</a></td></tr></tbody></table>While catching up on old issues of <a href="http://www.glamour.com/">Glamour Magazine</a>, I came across an article in the October 2010 issue entitled <i>8 Things You Need to Know About... You </i>by <a href="http://www.wendyshanker.com/">Wendy Shanker</a><i>. </i>The article, which doesn't depart very far from the fluffiness I love about Glamour Magazine, touches on 8 great points. They vary from health issues, to personal well being, to money management; but my favorite was #8:<br /><blockquote><i>A go-to wish for anytime you're near a fountain, about to blow out candles or see 11:11 on a clock.&nbsp;</i></blockquote>It's true. 11:11 rolls around and everyone closes their eyes to prep for a wish. I've been participating in this routine for as long as I can remember. Slumber parties with girl friends meant we had to stay up until 11:11pm to make a wish! Then (despite the fact that if you tell someone your wish, it will never come true) we would tell our wishes to each other before finally going to sleep.<br /><br />Back then, the wishes were silly. My favorite memories include the following standard wishes:<br /><br /><ul><li>A pair of <a href="http://www.bestshoesmen.com/images_products//adidas_samba_def_jam.jpg">Adidas Sambas</a></li><li>A new <a href="http://blog.nj.com/warrenreporter/2007/09/large_pix-0824backpack.jpg">L.L. Bean backpack</a> with my initials embroidered on it</li><li>My first kiss</li><li>A slow dance at the school dance with the school heart throb</li><li>A later curfew</li></ul><div><br />Clearly, these are all life changing wishes for someone in middle and high school. When I grew up, so did my wishes. They seem to align more with the author's, who notes the following:</div><div><br /></div><blockquote><i>My wish list? The continued stability of my health, for which I am so grateful; the possibility of starting a family on my own; another Madonna tour; a constant flow of funny things to write about (and people to pay me to do it); and most of all, an appreciation of what life serves up every day.</i></blockquote><div>I love the cheeky addition of the Madonna tour wish, but stay aligned with the rest.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>My go-to wish? Since about my sophomore year in college, it's been the same thing: "happiness." Because you really can't go wrong with that, can you?&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-3622267693703376747?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-89007082856499456202010-11-03T23:12:00.002-04:002010-11-03T23:13:18.318-04:00<center><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XNYFQ371osE/TIztXwF1Z_I/AAAAAAAAAu4/JPbW3UFpgRw/s1600/for_colored_girls_book_cover_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="475" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XNYFQ371osE/TIztXwF1Z_I/AAAAAAAAAu4/JPbW3UFpgRw/s1600/for_colored_girls_book_cover_01.jpg" width="307" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[<a href="http://enjoyceinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/love-tyler-perrys-for-colored-girls.html">via</a>]</td></tr></tbody></table></center>I can't quite put into words my excitement surrounding the release of <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58098.for_colored_girls_who_have_considered_suicide_when_the_rainbow_is_enuf">For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When The Rainbow is Enuf</a>. Written by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/32677.Ntozake_Shange">Ntozake Shange</a>, the screenplay is added to the roster of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyler_Perry">Tyler Perry</a>. Initially, I was worried how this partnership would work, but the reviews I've read so far are positive.<br /><br />You see, I have a certain affinity for the "Sorry" piece in this beautiful work of literature. It was introduced to me in high school, just a few years after it's release in '97, during a summer theatre workshop. I began performing the piece then, as directed by a beautiful actress who taught me a lot of the meaning being that monologue. My obsession grew as I continued to better understand the weight of the writing. <br /><br />For Colored Girls isn't just a pretty work of art or another published book sitting on shelves at Borders. It's a game changer. <br /><br />As I listen to Janelle Monae's <a href="http://soulbounce.com/soul/2010/11/listening_to_this_janelle_monae_track_wont_be_a_fight.php">Without A Fight</a>, I am fighting not to say something cliche like how I truly believe this is a book that has influced, inspired, and affected the lives of many black women, myself included. Oops, said it. Oh well.<br /><br />For Colored Girls hits theatres this Friday, November 5th. I'm thrilled, and am looking forward to seeing it with the group of strong and beautiful women I love to call my friends. I hope you get to do the same.<br /><br /><br /><center><iframe frameborder="0" height="364" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/15174916?title=0&amp;byline=0&amp;portrait=0&amp;color=ff0179" width="550"></iframe></center><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-8900708285649945620?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-76623348576414992632010-11-01T15:35:00.001-04:002010-11-02T09:57:08.474-04:00<div style="text-align: center;">To clear up any confusion: I was, indeed, a black cat on Halloween.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3481/4010052583_76c5b00d27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3481/4010052583_76c5b00d27.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">[<a href="http://daytonmall.com/">via</a>] </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;And just because I've been a black cat [almost] since birth does not make me uncool. And contrary to <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/Zsays">popular belief</a>, it certainly is <i>not</i> like still dressing up as the <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__e2tH_k6LT4/S3TVIYpxZfI/AAAAAAAAA4M/b-9l0ndZnvs/s320/zack.jpg">Black Power Ranger</a> at the age of 25. The Black Power Ranger is awkward, and no longer cool, and being a cat for Halloween is classic, like the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1950s">1950's</a>... (thanks for the reference, <a href="http://thepostcool.wordpress.com/">Dushane</a>)<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TNAX7iN86BI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/0CHGk9a6UtI/s1600/75314_544577071162_14101128_32198883_5288753_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TNAX7iN86BI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/0CHGk9a6UtI/s400/75314_544577071162_14101128_32198883_5288753_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>&nbsp;From left to right: Pilot Larissa of <a href="http://theellaproject.wordpress.com/">The Ella Project</a>, <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/thatsmsdiva2u">Allie</a> the Devil, Me aka the best black cat in the world, Crystal aka Nicki Minaj &amp; <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/vickyelee">Vicky Lee</a> aka Major Bombshell.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-7662334857641499263?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-31930264942546261172010-10-29T16:14:00.006-04:002010-10-30T16:11:37.727-04:00I have always loved Halloween. Not really sure why, as it's a rather creepy "holiday", but there's something about getting dressed up and having a reason to party that resonates well with me.<br /><br />Should you be lucky enough to take a trip to my sleepy suburban hometown, my mother will sit down with you and show you albums upon albums of me in the little outfits. First-day-of-school outfits, first-school-dance outfits, first-date-to-the-mall outfits, first-field-hockey-game outfits, and of course, the Halloween outfits.<br /><br />For as long as I can remember, I dressed as a witch. In fact, I wore my witch hat from mid-September through to Thanksgiving, when my parents told me it was no longer acceptable and I had to wear my Christmas socks instead (which I did, duh). As soon as I got to middle school, I started to care more about what I looked like and decided right then and there that I would be a black cat for every Halloween thereafter.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMsp7kx0aXI/AAAAAAAAAms/sQNC_v3vWrw/s1600/tumblr_laq8gonw5D1qdnrl7o1_1280-530x535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMsp7kx0aXI/AAAAAAAAAms/sQNC_v3vWrw/s320/tumblr_laq8gonw5D1qdnrl7o1_1280-530x535.jpg" width="317" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;[<a href="http://labels-love-loyalty.tumblr.com/post/1380266234">via</a>]</span></div><br />I'm 25 now, and I have tried 1.5 times to wear something other than my uniform of cat ears and a tail. Last year, I tried to be Madonna, but told people I was an 80's baby instead because <a href="http://snapsanddaps.blogspot.com/">my girl</a>, who also went as Madonna, actually LOOKED like her, and I looked like a jumble of the sale section at H&amp;M.<br /><br />This year, I decided I was going to be a captain. I went all out and purchased the captain's hat and everything. Last night, I tried to test my roommate and her boyfriend. I opened my bedroom door and stepped out in my costume:<br /><br />"Do I look like a captain?"<br />"Um..." their eyes flickered to each other briefly as they tried to find the best way to let me down gently. I held my hand up in a salute, to help the cause.<br />"I like your hat?" My roommate said.<br />"Maybe if you had some of those shoulder things, that would help :/" her boyfriend suggested.<br /><br />I went into my room and threw on my faithful cat eats in defeat. <br /><br />That said, there are so many AWESOME Halloween ideas I would love to give a try. My first stems from my new obsession with Nicki Minaj.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMsperRIH4I/AAAAAAAAAmo/Rvw8f2Dwt0I/s1600/5b21d3a89c3ccc9dc319cad7b4453953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="287" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMsperRIH4I/AAAAAAAAAmo/Rvw8f2Dwt0I/s400/5b21d3a89c3ccc9dc319cad7b4453953.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">&nbsp;[<a href="http://www.addicted-2-retail.com/">via</a>]</span></div><br />I want the hair, I want the "Barbie" necklace, I want the ridiculous jewelery and the booty. I want to walk around mugging for cameras with that extra cheese, and the occasional growl. I want the British accents and the 5 personalities... just for one night.<br /><br />I blame Claire of The Fashion Bomb for my black cat restlessness. Every Halloween she highlights great costume ideas, make up tricks, and outfit inspiration - all of which I am eager to try out now. Check out her series <a href="http://fashionbombdaily.com/tag/halloween/">here</a>, and additional costume photos below for some inspiration.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKFnC52HI/AAAAAAAAAmw/scL4h_5d9bc/s1600/amy+winehouse+02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKFnC52HI/AAAAAAAAAmw/scL4h_5d9bc/s320/amy+winehouse+02.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">&nbsp;A little Amy Winehouse and some extra faux-tattoos never hurt anyone.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKGT-qebI/AAAAAAAAAm0/M_6BZcGCoX0/s1600/grease_frock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKGT-qebI/AAAAAAAAAm0/M_6BZcGCoX0/s320/grease_frock.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sandy OR Rizzo from Grease. In fact, I think I own Sandy's leggings... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKGnFwD6I/AAAAAAAAAm4/fONzSACK_ew/s1600/kim_kardashian_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKGnFwD6I/AAAAAAAAAm4/fONzSACK_ew/s320/kim_kardashian_5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A sailor! Is it too much to ask? </span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKG1nwxKI/AAAAAAAAAm8/tfkult3FMGY/s1600/large_diana-ross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKG1nwxKI/AAAAAAAAAm8/tfkult3FMGY/s320/large_diana-ross.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">&nbsp;Diana Ross, because really - she's fierce.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKHTpRWcI/AAAAAAAAAnA/aHKsYCU16i8/s1600/tina_turner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMtKHTpRWcI/AAAAAAAAAnA/aHKsYCU16i8/s320/tina_turner.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: small;">Does this even need words?</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMx7y_SrI6I/AAAAAAAAAnM/gD3CNVKxVHE/s1600/pamgrierfoxybrown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMx7y_SrI6I/AAAAAAAAAnM/gD3CNVKxVHE/s320/pamgrierfoxybrown.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Don't mess <i>aroun'...</i><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMxs1b30cxI/AAAAAAAAAnI/hQ1_fMvibqk/s1600/selita-ebanks-runaway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TMxs1b30cxI/AAAAAAAAAnI/hQ1_fMvibqk/s320/selita-ebanks-runaway.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I mean...</span></div><br />&nbsp;Oh well... just keep an eye out for <a href="http://suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com/search/label/Who%3F%20Me%3F">this girl</a> in a <a href="http://www.google.com/images?um=1&amp;hl=en&amp;client=firefox-a&amp;rls=org.mozilla%3Aen-US%3Aofficial&amp;biw=1109&amp;bih=776&amp;tbs=isch%3A1&amp;sa=1&amp;q=halloween+black+cat+costume&amp;aq=f&amp;aqi=g1&amp;aql=&amp;oq=&amp;gs_rfai=">black cat costume</a>.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-3193026494254626117?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>maiahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7122310357268531330.post-10187130447933220932010-10-17T20:41:00.001-04:002010-10-17T20:42:17.781-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TLuVt9OgYaI/AAAAAAAAAmY/BkW_YQ8vUGs/s1600/drake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TLuVt9OgYaI/AAAAAAAAAmY/BkW_YQ8vUGs/s400/drake.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />It's no secret I am absolutely in love with Drake. Or, if it was, it certainly isn't a secret anymore. In my eyes, the boy can do no wrong. Case in point - one of the sexiest songs I've heard in a while:<br /><br /><br /><br /><center><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TeCMRGb04QI?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TeCMRGb04QI?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></center><br /><br />I came across this interview with Drake for Cosmopolitan Magazine on <a href="http://necolebitchie.com/2010/10/15/drake-speaks-on-first-date-sex-relationships-break-ups-2/">Necole Bitchie</a> and swooned a little deeper. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="151" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_znLBCXQwAJM/TLuVtcuEJSI/AAAAAAAAAmU/b7nG-naKEGA/s400/Drake_Relationships.jpg" width="400" /></div><br />Interview text below:<br /><blockquote><b><i>Cosmopolitan:</i></b><i> Is it hard for guys to get over breakups?</i><br /><b>Drake:</b> Definitely. Even after a long time, it’s painful to see an ex with somebody else. As happy as you are that she’s happy, there’s a little tingle underneath your heart. It’s not a sting. But it hurts a bit, and you wish it wasn’t there.<br /><br /><br /><b><i>C:</i></b><i> Is sex on a first date a deal breaker?</i><br /><b>D:</b> No, I don’t get why women think that. You’re telling yourself that all you have to offer is your body and the physical act. There’s more to you than that. If I like somebody, there’s so many great things to look forward to, even if we do it on the first night.<br /><br /><br /><b><i>C:</i></b><i> If a woman is into a guy, how should she get his attention?</i><br /><b>D:</b> I’m shy, so I like when she comes up and says “Hey, how are you doing?” That lets me know she wants to talk. The scariest thing is when you look at a woman and think of a million reasons why she wouldn’t want to.<br /><br /><br /><b><i>C:</i></b><i> What’s the secret to a happy relationship?</i><br /><b>D:</b> Acceptance. You’ve got to be comfortable enough to be completely naked with lights on and the curtains open.</blockquote>Now, I'm not saying we should all take this 23 year old's relationship advice, but those are pretty great answers, right? Ugh, love.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7122310357268531330-1018713044793322093?l=suburbangirlandthecity.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>