I survived going to a “Minimalism Event.” Dear God, did I even just type that?? aahh It was “good” and “interesting“…in a horrifying way, kwim? Like going to a Scientology event or something. The Frug stood transfixed with a small smile and glazed eyes. #creepy I wore a sparkly skirt and multiple necklaces and strappy wedge heels and used 1729 make-up products, just to be a dick.
Anyway, going to that reminded me of some of the other kooks the Frug follows…
…Like this guy who writes “Exile Lifestyle“…one of his “things” is that he only owns X # of things. The last time he posted it was 55 things. He owns only 55 things. *lets that settle in* This is down from the apparently repulsive 72 things he owned in 2009.
^^^Like, I could find more than that on the floor in my room or stuffed into the crevices of the Fail Wagon, kwim?? COME ON!
I took a quick tally of what I “owned” or used this morning (clothing, makeup, items used) and here’s where I was, as of 8am:
Contact lens solution
Contact lens case
Ponytail holder (I have at least 50 of these…somewhere)
I’m at 28 before 8am. Some of these can be combined like contacts/solution/case but still. I’m not upset about this list. It just is. I cannot imagine only having even 100 things. They don’t define me but many of them are NECESSARY. The thought of being limited to X number of things makes me queasy.
I have to say, this guy did inspire me to make clever collections and post pix on Tumblr. Like “My 43 Eye Shadows in Nearly Identical Shades of Brown” or “My 17 Favorite Mascaras” or “My 27 Black Tops”…
So, in that sense, I would have to say that going to see The Minimalists was truly inspiring. *cackles*
So, how old is she? 30 something? THREE MARRIAGES??? TTTHHHHRRRREEEEEE.
I like this shot of the pair of them:
She’s a lovely girl, really. Gorgeous skin. Beautiful hair. The ass is contained here and doesn’t appear to be trying to escape Kanye’s clutches. RUN WHILE YOU CAN!
I really like this photo too. Again, ass contained. I love the sleek, low-profile veil although it’s completely inappropriate for a 3rd time bride to be wearing it. JFC. It actually reminds me a bit of the lace mantilla thingy I wore to my First Communion.It probably cost more than my first car though. lol
So, what are the odds for these two obnoxious famewhores??? I think 5 years is way too optimistic. I’m going with 3 years. She cannot have another 3 months marriage, right? And they have a daughter together so maybe that will help??
A special shout out to some evil geniuses who thought of this… IsKimyeDivorcedYet.com. So so so very angry that this wasn’t my idea. Le Sigh. Current stats — 3 days, 5 hours, 37 minutes, 52 seconds of wedded bliss.
Anyway, they’re honeymooning now. How long til all the pix are up for sale?????
Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus have garnered an audience of more than 2 million readers at TheMinimalists.com, where they write about living a meaningful life with less stuff. They are the bestselling authors of five books and have spoken at Harvard Business School, SXSW, World Domination Summit, and many other organizations, schools, and conferences.
He’s taking me to a seminar about living with less stuff.
Is this an exorcism?
I’m tempted to wear something outrageous like this gold AmEx dress:
Or maybe just something with the Target logo?? Or something a rich old lady would wear on a cruise…covered in rhinestones and wearing alll the jewelry.
Trying to keep an open mind. This is the Frug’s “thing” so I want to be respectful and nonjudgy.
These people are the judgy ones. “Oh, look at us and how frugal we are! You money spending collectors of things are terrible people!”
We maximinalists are all live and let live. “I’m just over here at Sephora and then heading the Nordie’s Half Yearly Sale! Have a nice day!”
I shall report back on this thing later, God willing.
I’ve self tanned, gone to the pool for exactly one hour, bathed with Bobbi Brown Beach shower gel, spritzed myself liberally with Bobbi Brown Beach perfume, and now I’m applying sun-kissed makeup. Next up is a cocktail al fresco.
I am CRUSHING this holiday weekend and it’s only 5:15pm!
(For ease, I’m pasting the funnies here but please trot on over to Buzzfeed and stay for a few hours/days like I do.)
1. Deny the fact that your menstrual cup is unreachable and continue to claw at your insides like a panicked raccoon. 2. Slowly allow the sour wave of fear to rise up through body when you finally accept that it is, in fact, stuck inside of you. 3. Quietly despair. 4. Shake it off because you have to be at work in an hour. 5. Switch to your non-dominant hand and retry the raccoon thing. 6. Stare blankly at the bathroom floor tiles for a moment while contemplating the meaning of life. 7. Try again standing up. 8. Try again sitting down. 9. Decide to take a shower. A nice, warm, relaxing shower. 10. Try again squatting in the shower. 11. Try again sitting on the edge of the tub. 12. Try again standing with one leg propped up on the faucet. 13. Curse water for making things more slippery than they already are. 14. Turn off the water and stand motionless in the shower until you are shivering and really feeling the weight of the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into. 15. Consider for a moment leaving it stuck up there, moving to a new city, finding a new job, and starting a new life. 16. Realize that none of that will change the fact that you have a menstrual cup stuck inside your body. 17. Emerge from the bathroom and locate your live-in boyfriend. 18. Explain to your live-in boyfriend that the menstrual cup you were so excited to use has betrayed you and now you both have to move to California and change your names. 19. Accept a hug while realizing this is as far as his help can go. 20. Say good-bye to your live-in boyfriend and return to your bathroom lair—this is your home now. 21. Read the directions on the box. 22. Scoff at the part that says “If you can’t remove your cup, DO NOT PANIC.” 23. And then gasp at the part that says “Unless it’s been 12 hours.” 24. Do the math. 25. Realize it’s been 13 hours. 26. Panic. 27. Text your best friend. 28. Attempt to “give birth” to your cup, as she suggests.
Erin Chack / BuzzFeed
29. Literally picture yourself in a delivery room with your friends and family coaching you to push your first-born child out of your body, except instead of a child it’s a menstrual cup and instead of a delivery room it’s a toilet and instead of your friends and family it’s bottles of shampoo. 30. Nearly give yourself an aneurism doing this for a few minutes. 31. Check if it worked. 32. Give up. 33. Cry a little. 34. Exit your bathroom/lair/new home. 35. Locate your live-in boyfriend again. 36. Jokingly ask if he’s interested in going on a reconnaissance mission for a missing POW. 37. Look at each other more seriously than you’ve ever looked at each other before. 38. Realize there’s no way this will work. 39. Laugh so hard you cry. 40. Decide that the menstrual cup is so far lost that it must be pressing on a part of your brain that controls your sanity. 41. Retreat to your bathroom lair. 42. Locate the tweezers. 43. Consider the downsides. 44. Sterilize the tweezers. 45. Insert the tweezers less than a millimeter into your vagina before deciding this is the worst idea you’ve ever had in your entire life. 46. Curse the tweezers. 47. Curse the menstrual cup. 48. Curse menstruation. 49. Curse existence. 50. Jump up and down in an attempt to jiggle it free. 51. Massage your belly in a downward motion in an attempt to coax it from the outside. 52. Consider asking it nicely to come out. 53. Consider casting a magical spell. 54. Consider smoking it out. 55. Accept the fact that you won’t be making it to work on time today. 56. Send the world’s vaguest email to your (male) boss.
Erin Chack / BuzzFeed
57. Take a break—you’ve earned it, champ! 58. Eat a bowl of frosted mini wheats and watch bad morning TV in your underwear. 59. Think about how you’re going to word this to your gynecologist. 60. Think about how you’re going to word this in your obituary because you’re too scared to call your gynecologist. 61. Perform a series of deep-relaxation breathing exercises while lying on your living room floor until you’re pleasantly lightheaded. 62. Return, one final time, to your bathroom lair. 63. Light a prayer candle. 64. Use the extinguished match to draw an X on your lower stomach. 65. Lean over the sink, look at yourself in the mirror, and mouth the words “It’s go time.” 66. Sing a happy song to relax yourself for your final attempt to remove the cup. 67. Seriously, like, actually relax this time. Like, for real. Actually do it. 68. I’m serious, relax. 69. Take a breath, dig deep, and grip the stem of the menstrual cup. 70. Begin weeping with relief when you realize the goddess Aphrodite has taken mercy on your vagina. 71. Wiggle the cup from side to side until, like the sword from the stone, it shakes free from your vaginal clutches. 72. Emerge from your bathroom, cup full o’blood in hand, and announce to your live-in boyfriend—nay, the UNIVERSE—that you are the RULER of your own vagempire. 73. Take a victory shot of your own period blood and spike the cup on the ground like a football player who just scored the game-winning touchdown. 74. (That last one was a metaphor.) 75. Stick that baby back in you and run to the subway—you’re late for work!
(Not sure what the heck is up with WordPress. I swear I posted this on Friday and then it disappeared!)
Just wondering about something. Why no seat belts on trains? I’m experiencing “turbulence” on a train right now that would have the “fasten seat belt light” glowing and the flight attendants strapped in (and me snorting allll the xanax.) And yet it’s business as usual on the train. No warnings to stay seated, no seat belts.
Odd, right? Just like the no seat belts on school buses (and regular busses, for that matter.) Seems wrong.
I consider myself to be a greedy, needy, selfish girl. #ownsit But, I saw some folks yesterday who make me look like Mother Theresa.
Went to NYC to have a Kiki with some friends. After we awoke at 11:30 (lazy whores!) we went to the nail salon, as one does. KTB went to fetch coffee and came back to tell us that it was free. FREE? I certainly like free but nothing is free, right?
Apparently, the story she was told, a man with the Coast Guard had given his platinum AmEx and said to charge everything to him. Sounds weird, right? How does a Coast Guard person have a platinum AmEx and why would he choose to do this?
I went over about 30 minutes later and it was bedlam. The line was out the door. People were grabbing pound bags of coffee and all the mugs they could carry. The store was being wiped clean. I just wanted an iced coffee (3 pumps of sugar-free caramel and room at the top for milk – a Fruggaccino), kwim? The woman in front of me was as appalled as I was at the legal looting going on. I kept looking for the cameras, someone recording the greedy side of humanity. A social experiment on greed.
We asked who the benefactor was (was he there, watching?) and if we could thank him. Nope. But they did say we could write a note to him which I did. And my new friend in line reminded me to tip the staff, since the greed patrol certainly wasn’t.
I ended up drinking my “free” coffee and feeling icky. I would never have grabbed all the coffee beans and mugs and treats, just because they were “free.” They weren’t “free.” Someone was paying. I’m still wondering “why?” Did this guy just want to buy a bunch of strangers a cup of coffee and it went horribly wrong? Why wasn’t AmEx cutting this off? It screamed “FRAUD“, right?? I was waiting for a producer to walk up getting release forms signed or something.
I guess it made me want to do something nice for someone else to “pay it forward” in some way. I doubt the Frug will authorize something on such a grand scale though. Lol