Tag Archive | nyc

Terrible News

I. Am. Old.

Turned fortyfuckingNINE yesterday. I mean, there’s no way around the fact that that’s not young. How did this happen?? I swear I was a youthful and sassy 39 not that long ago.

Even worse, no amount of diet and exercise and grooming can hide the fact that I am not young anymore. As part of my bday celebration, I did a girls weekend in NYC. Much prep went into it. I waxed all the body parts and shaved those that I didn’t wax (*nods at finger knuckles and toe knuckles*) I planned (read: did the purchase/return cycle so much that the Frug’s head is going to spin around) outfits. I had fresh highlights, a haircut, I even tinted my brows!

Oh, and for my big Saturday night out, we had the Glam Squad come to do blowouts and makeup!


Middle aged soccer mom.


Actually, according to the sainted Ashlee, I looked like a “middle aged gym teacher“…which is much, much better, right?


I mean, if I can’t groom and retail my way to a youthful glow, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

Accept it?


Hell no.



Quick Rob Update

You know, I hate to give bad news around the holidays…just seems so wrong.  But, in the interest of honesty, I have to let you know:

I’m breaking up with Robert Pattinson. (okay, maybe we’re just on a break)

I know.

I know this seems like it’s out of the blue.  It feels like I just confessed my little fantasy about me and Rob.  Rob & I are together and I’m wearing KStew’s amazing shoes… but it’s been building up for a month or so now. Started with the New Moon promotions.  He was EVERYWHERE. Couldn’t get away from him. Interviews in magazines, tv, online.  The bloggers were all over him — so many pix, videos, analyzing every hair on his head, every word out of his mouth…He was just in my face all the time. Which you would think I would love…but…it almost gave me the ICK. I guess there is such a thing as ‘too much Rob.’  Sigh.

So, I went to NYC the weekend New Moon came out.  He knew I was there. He could feel the magnetic attraction between us — but, he was playing coy and stayed just out of reach! 😉  Maybe he was just being nice and letting me have a Girls Weekend? 😉  When I got home, the Rob drought began…the holidays kicked into gear…and I realized ‘hey, I haven’t thought about Rob in a while’…haven’t been googling him, haunting the robsessed blogs, nothing.  And, guess what?  I don’t miss him!  I know!

I’m not ruling out a future reconciliation.  After all, he and I go way back (to June ’09 at least)…Remember Me is coming out in March (I think) and Eclipse in June.  There’s hope.  And, there is all the hotness to consider.  Maybe I am just backing off on my Robsession so I can maybe get a sweet Christmas gift from the Frug??  Who knows?

Not sure how Rob will handle this news. I’m glad he has KStew to help him heal from my break-up.  But, one thing…even though I’m not w/Rob now…I still want Kristen’s shoes.  Seriously.

Saturday Night-Stalking, Cocktails, Robert?

So, we did our ‘spa’ thing for hours on Sat. then shopped. My phone died so I wasn’t able to check my celeb crap all day.  Killed me 😉 But, I was pretty sure that Mr. Pattinson was already gone so it was tolerable.  AND, not being able to be reached by the Cling-Ons that I gave birth to was a major bonus.  Anyway, ended up back at the Not Soho and used my new $12 sketchy-bought-from-street-vendor charger.  Checked out radaronline (one of the 72 places I go for up-to-the-minute gossip) and I find out RPATTZ is STILL IN NYC.  Holy crap!  Time for scheming! LOL

We decide on Thai food (lower east side – called Sea I think??)…Not happy w/my outfit sadly. Grey mini dress (cute – Michael Stars bought thru RueLaLa — Bargain baby!) with tights and black shooties (shoe/booties)…it just wasn’t quite right…you know those times when you have things that are fine individually but just won’t work all together?…and since i was so frugal while shopping I had no other options…grumble…hair marginal…face flushed from saunas…eyes bloodshot from last night’s alcohol consumption and lack of sleep. I threw back THREE champagne cocktails (called Strawberry Mojos b/c of the yummy strawberry puree in them!) while dissecting my entree. Over dindin we discussed our potential destinations…I read that RPattz was possibly staying at the Bowery Hotel. They have a fun ‘lounge’ there so we decided to check it out after dinner.  Tried to come up with a code word in case we spotted him.  OHMYGODITSROBERTPATTINSON was really just not going to work, kwim?  Ash and Robin were coming up with terrible code words like ‘Sparkle’ and ‘Vampire’…jesus, may as well just say OHMYGODITSROBERTPATTINSON, kwim?

So, the Bowery Hotel…so cool.  Very cozy, shabby-chic…but British and hunt country too…make any sense? We walked right in…which, from what I have since read, is unusual b/c there are parts of it that are ‘hotel guests only’. Settle in for cocktails in the back bar area. Had my first of THREE champagnes. Only $22/glass, not bad right?! haha  Welcome to Manhattan, bitches!!  Sat in a comfy couch w/the girls and chilled. A Seth Green-looking guy came over to chat us up.  So cute and funny. He was drinking an absinthe cocktail and a coke and carried a Glen-something bottle of scotch. Set for the night, right? He seemed to like Ash and bonded w/her with the acting thing.  But, we dismissed him quickly…not there for the Seth Greens of the world, kwim? After about an hour, we realized my man wasn’t there.  Moved on to the next spot.

The B Bar…right across the street.  Hung out and had a yummy sangria.  Amazingly I was still able to stand up at this point. Moved onto a latte tho…Ash & Robin ordered triple espressos…with butter?  Seriously, the coffee came w/butter. Bartender thought it was white chocolate but she was very very wrong! lol  Quick comment on the bathroom there (after god-knows-how-many-drinks I was in there a number of times!)…it had an Attendant. I HATE that. I am fully capable of getting my own soap…and turning the water on…and getting a paper towel.  And, I don’t want to have to tip someone in the bathroom.  Do not want to linger in there..fumbling w/dollar bills, etc. It’s just uncomfortable.  And, you also don’t want to be the bitch who doesn’t tip…it’s just bad all around.

So, at this point, Robin and I decide we really liked the Bowery Hotel bar and want to go back. Ash thought it was pretentious. (for the record, it sort of was, but I liked it!) My lovely niece thinks going to a drag queen bar would be better. WTF??? Don’t get me wrong, I love drag queens. I have been to the Drag Queen races in DC. Sometimes, with a bad eyebrow dye job, I even LOOK like a drag queen. I am down with them. We manage to veto her (2 against 1 but she is a fiesty domineering bitch sometimes! lol and so so not kidding)…

Cue me semi-stumbling in the street and laughing and talking loudly about Rob.  Like, what would I do if I saw him? What would I say? Would I say anything? What if he really looks like a 23 year old baby?  Like, what if I see him and POOF my panties fly off?  What if I trip and fall and my tongue accidentally goes done his throat?   Don’t recall much more…other than me yelling the word VAGINA and cackling.  Repeatedly.

(have decided to make this into 2 posts b/c it’s gotten impossibly long!)

Sorry!  See Part II in a bit, okay????

Public Flogging OR a Day at the Russian Turkish Baths

Not sure how this even came up…over dinner on Friday night (Da Silvano – Jennifer Aniston goes there and now so do I), somehow bathhouses came up. Ashley had, of course, done this before…and Robin, the world traveler, had been to actual bathhouses in Russia AND Finland…I, ordinary boring stay-at-home mom from the suburbs, have not. So, we decided that we would go to the Russian & Turkish Baths on Saturday morning.

This place has been around since 1892. I think there may have been a Seinfeld episode based on this place. Very very very authentic and ‘old school’…it’s $30 admission…includes robes, ‘shorts’, facilities, etc. It is NOT Elizabeth Arden. It is NOT for the shy or faint-hearted. Pretty much you are walking around half naked with a bunch of fat Russian men. And getting beaten.  I’ll get back to that in a minute! 😉  We didn’t bring bathing suits which I would highly HIGHLY recommend. We wore these black robes, which had the unfortunate problem of exposing ‘side boob’ when you least expected it…and underneath (and you are required to wear these on co-ed days – and naturally, we were there on a co-ed days – and you are grateful that it’s a requirement!) we wore this unisex gigantic shorts.

So, facilities…Russian Sauna…the hottest *&$@ sauna in the world, I swear.  It’s almost painful. And that’s before the beating! haha and not kidding. Ice cold pool. Again, painful. But in a good way. Turkish Room (steam room). Aromatherapy Room (also steamy). Swedish Shower. Sun Deck.  Back to the Russian Sauna…here’s the deets:

This authentic russian room is the highlight of every visit to the baths. The oven is filled with 20,000 lbs. of rock which are cooked overnight. During the day, these rocks give off an intense heat. This is one of the few rooms of its kind in the United States.

Surrounding a huge rock-walled furnace, women and men alike will be immersed in a hot, very steamy, stone furnaced “radiant heat”. When the heat starts to get unbearable, take one of the dozens of buckets around the room, fill it with ice cold water, and like the Russians hundreds of years before you have done, dump it over your head. Now don’t be self-conscious because as you will soon notice, everyone is dousing themselves with buckets of water. In that sheer moment as the ice-cold water pours over you, comes one of the most enjoyable moments you will ever experience. It is sheer delight. You can also request a traditional Russian Platza treatment.

This was the first room we walked into. It’s so so so freaking hot. There are men everywhere. Sweating. Half naked. More than half, actually. People are pouring buckets of ice old water on their heads. In one corner, a guy is getting a massage, but the masseuse is alternately walking on his back and yanking the guy’s legs up and over his head. In another corner, an enormous guy is getting beaten with a flogger of some sort and having ice cold buckets of water poured all over him. I was like “HOLY SHIT, I am not in Arlington anymore!”. And “get me the F*CK out of here!”  The beating is the Russian Platza treatment. For only $35 you too can be publicly beaten. There was no way in HELL I was going to do that. No way. Robin went off to get a massage (so cool – no appts before hand…you just ask and go have it done) and Ashley and I did the other steam rooms. Which were great. My sinuses were very very happy. But, I started thinking that okay, I’m here. In a Russian bathhouse. When am I ever going to do this again? Etc. So, I decided to just go for it…and I asked for  the platza!!  Ashley did it at the same time (I did’t want that little b*tch watching me get beaten AND I knew that if I saw her go first I would chicken out) Here’s a description of it:

Platza Oak Leaf
Lie down while in the
Russian Room and aplatza specialist will scrub you (actually beat you) with a broom made of fresh oak leaves, sopping with olive oil soap. The oak leaves contain a natural astringent, which will open your pours, remove toxins, and actually take off layers of dead skin. Some described theplatza as “Jewish acupuncture”.

Most.Intense.Experience.Ever. Hot. Cold. Pleasure. Pain (mild). Public Humiliation. It was sensory overload. It left me shaken and out of breath. I wasn’t sure if I was going to laugh or cry. I think I did both. Very domineering man, wearing a wet towel on his head and a pair of shorts and nothing else, takes me by the hand and lays me down on a step in the Russian Room. Cold towel over the head. Cannot see what’s happening. Warm water poured over the body. Very firm hands massaging and CRACK CRACKing my back. Bliss. I think I grunted and moaned. Wait. I know I did. Scrubbing with soapy water.Smack smack brush brush with the oak leaf flogger thing. So hot. Please pour cold water on me. Whoosh, cold water. Shock. Heaven. Both arms pulled behind my back and torso lifted off the step. Squealing. Next, both legs are lifted up and I am bent in half in a way I have never been before. More cold water please. YES.  Roll over. One leg up and over my head. And then the other. More soapy scrubbing and whacking and brushing. Towel still over the head. What’s happening?  Hot water rinsing soap off. Then nothing. COLD BUCKET OF WATER. Thank you. Thank you. Sit up. Cold water. Hot water. He stands me up (can’t really walk, shaky) and walks me out and orders me into the cold pool. I go. So cold. Polar Bear Club cold. Numb. He dresses me in a dry robe and wraps me in a warm towel. Walks me to a bench and sits me down. It’s over. This all took 10 minutes. I don’t know my own name at this point.

We stayed for over 3 hours. I could have stayed longer. I told random people sitting near me that I was going to move, not just to NYC, but actually into the bathhouse. Live there. Be flogged. And blissed out. Robin did a massage (and mud/salt treatment) that apparently like a physical therapy session, wrapped in a chiropractor visit, topped off with the dude washing and conditioning her hair. OMG. How amazing does that sound?

Oh, just to be clear. Not sexy. Not sexual. Nothing felt weird or inappropriate. No leering from the male onlookers. It was just so amazing. I don’t think this long winded description did it justice. It was the best spa experience of my life. Seriously. And I have been to some serious spas. Including the sublime Spa Grande at the Grand Wailea in Maui. If you get a chance, GO. Definitely.  Well, fancy friends like “Debbie” or “Fawn” might not want to go. You may be horrified. But, the rest of you? Do it. Love it. Beg for more.

NYC, Public Flogging, and more importantly, Robert Pattinson

Had a Girls Weekend in NYC. Left my dreary Mommy Life behind me for a few days. I was so thrilled to be away, I was actually giddy.  Today, Life said “Welcome Back, Bitch!” Laundry overflowing out of the hampers and spilling out into the hall…dishes piled precariously in the kitchen sink…and, joy of joys, Peter is sick and staying home from school today. I shan’t let it be a F*ck Me Day tho. My buzz will NOT be killed, damnit.

However, I have much to report on…the city, what I wore, how much I drank (and ($@ how much those drinks cost! Not Frug approved at all!), where I shopped, Turkish Baths, conflicted feelings on celebrity stalking, and Robert Pattinson. Always RPattz.

Keep checking back today and tomorrow. Sordid details will be shared.

Today’s Post is Rated-MA D L S V

Mature (18+), Suggestive Dialogue, Offensive/Coarse Language, Sexual Content/References, Moderate Violence (implied or intended at least!)

Actually, this is what Kelly’s Superficial is rated overall…today is just very consistent w/my (ahem) ‘standards’!

It's a F*ck Me Day!

It's a F*ck Me Day!

So, it’s a F*ck Me Day. Sing ‘It’s a Hard Knock Life’ from Annie and substitute the words ‘f*ck me day’…sing it! “It’s a F*ck Me Day” No other words…just that.  Why?

Woke up to the darkness and rain. F*ck me. Kids woke up late and crabby. B*tching about their breakfasts.  Make your own damn breakfast, jerks! lol  The Frug wakes up chipper every day.  Amazing. We are such opposites!  He dared to ask ‘soooo, what are you doing today?’ with the implication that perhaps I am doing NOTHING as usualAh, the Frug's Dream Wife!I bit back the reply I wanted to give which was ‘oh, sitting around eating bon bons while surfing the internet for naked Rob Pattinson pictures…then I may take a nap’…however, in the spirit of civility (or was it just fatigue?), I simply said ‘lots of stuff to do today, asshole‘ 😉 Dropped the devils off at school (they are safer there, trust me) and went to Target (which should transform it into a JOY day) to drop off the TWO prescriptions for Peter’s ‘folliculitis’ aka crotch rot and the @(&$@ pharmacy doesn’t open until 9am. Again, F*CK ME.

Next up for me? Doing a craft-y project for the kids’ school that I had been putting off for weeks now. And, naturally, it had to be done by TODAY.  WHYWHYWHY do I do this to myself?  I just can’t make myself ‘work ahead’ when I have the time…I have to wait and wait and then jam it out.  Grumble. Anyway, I allotted 1 hour…it took FOUR. F*ck me. Involved lots of fine motor skills…cutting, pasting, editing text, printing, visual layout, etc. Ugh.  Used ‘dry mount’ for the first time. BtFw, it is NOT dry! It is sticky and may just stay on my hands until I die. Tried regular soap/water…used ‘Goo Gone’, etc.The GOO is not GONE-Thanks for Nothing! grr Nothing worked. Now I have lemon scented hands w/clumps of dried glue…and, naturally, dog hair. The Goo is NOT gone.  Thanks for nothing, Goo Gone. F*ck me.  Went to eat lunch…couldn’t even pick up my sandwich without grossing myself out.  Guess that’s one way to diet? LOL and heavy sigh.

Final (perhaps) complaint. (ha! who am I trying to kid? This is NOT my final complaint by a long shot! lol) So, I’m going to NYC in November (NO $&)@$& kids or Frug! woot!)…thought it might be fun to go see SNL…ever heard the expression ‘who do I have to f*ck to get (whatever)?’  Well, apparently you actually have to f*ck someone to get SNL tickets!!!  Now, since I have that whole marriage/monogamy/fidelity thing going on, I am *out* of the equation.  However, a friend of a friend has been known to bang a cast member or 2. So, it’s all good, right?!  NO!  Beyotch is all ‘I don’t feel comfortable asking him for tickets’. Annoyed. Doesn’t she That's right, Ron Burgundy. *I* am Kind of a Big Deal too! LOLknow ‘I’m kind of a Big Deal’ and she should take one for the Kelly’s Superficial team?? Apparently not. Hmph.  More on this SNL biznaz later.

Time for some wine and my Snuggie.