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As it turns out, something fairly simple, actually…

Maxie on the left, Jenn on top, mine on the right.

This week while at the beach, we finally got the “hashtats” we’ve been talking about since we dreamed them up in Vegas. And before you try to tell me that Twitter won’t last forever (insert Captain Obvious joke here), this symbol isn’t about my favorite social networking site. It’s representative of everything wonderful in my life I owe to social media, most importantly, the two BFFs who got it with me (soon to be three, Cara!!) - friends I never, ever would have met without blogging, the tweeter, and all the rest. I think my girl Meghan said it best…

“	#FF to @rachaelgk and @ihatesomuch for proving in ink this week that the friends you make on the Internet sometimes last a lifetime xo
	PirateMeghan June 24, 2011

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It’s cute, it’s teal, it makes me smile every time I see it, and it looks hot in heels.

I? Am in love.

Mama said share.

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So busy. So, so, SO busy.

But it’s all good. Truly, it is. Things are basically amazing, which is great, but it means any spare minutes I have, I’ve been using to:

Recuperate from work and travel…

I was here for *EIGHT* days and never set a toe in the water or the sand. SADS.

Brunch and drink wine with the girls on Cara’s new rooftop:

Be ignored by my too-cool-for-school cats…

And as you can tell, becoming newly obsessed with Instagram, the app that can make any horrible photographer (me) take seemingly artsy/edgy pictures. Tee hee hee, I fooled you!!!

Anyway, until I have some free time to write something of substance, here’s a video of a monkey riding a dog.

Because, yanno… it’s a MONKEY RIDING A DOG.

Mama said share.

Great deals on magazine subscriptions with no auto renewals.

So, you all know that I started a lovely new job in January. (And if you don’t, consider yourself EDUCATED, fool!!)

Said lovely new job involves a bit of travel. One and two day trips to consult with clients around the country; a conference here and there. At first, I was excited. “I’m so Big Time!”, I thought. “I’ll get to visit e-friends all over, see new cities, huzzah!”

Anyone who’s ever had to travel for work would now like to tell me one thing:

I’m an idiot.

Work travel is basically everything that’s stressful about a vacation, except, yanno… minus the vacation. You agonize over what to pack, only times a bazillion because it’s FOR YOUR JOB. You worry about being late, only times a bazillion because it’s FOR YOUR JOB. You actually have to shower in the morning, only times a bazillion because it’s FOR YOUR JOB. (What?)

In a nutshell, it’s travel without sun, sand, skis, or wine. Hopefully at the end of the day there is a job well done, and maybe HBO in the hotel (but never Bravo, WTF?!) – but that’s about it.

Now, I’m not complaining. Because even considering all that, traveling to meet with clients is still pretty cool, frankly. And I love my job, so putting a checkbox in the “great meeting!” box feels fantastic.

It’s just, you know… stressy and such.

(For those of you who were following my journey to Wisconsin on Twitter yesterday, which totally involved me DRIVING A CAR, LIKE, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOUR-ISH YEARS??? … I’m alive! So is everyone else who I encountered on the road! The car is even intact!)

And, as a bonus, I had dinner with the absolutely hysterical and extremely freaking talented Jenn of Ex Hot Girl, who then- probably due to the multiple boozy beverages I plied her with- took me to her studio to just, you know, shoot some headshots for fun. Because that’s what awesome fun people who are also photogs do, apparently. And in less than three minutes (no, seriously) – the girl made me look like this:

Click here to see her professional site/portfolio

If you need a headshot for social media (or anything else), wedding/engagement photos, etc – please check her out! She does travel and she IS amazing. Thank you Jenn!!!

Mama said share.

If you’d told me a year ago that while in the throes of a horrible job search, I would jet off for a weekend to the crunchiest, hippiest, patchouliest, most adorable town on earth to spend two days with a couple girls I’d only met a handful of times…

Well, let’s be honest. I probably would’ve shrugged and said, “Yup, that sounds like me.”

And it does, because I did, and honestly? It was just about the most perfect girls’ weekend in the world, wrapped up in a big “cutest town EVER” bow.

I don’t think I stopped laughing from the moment I climbed into the periwinkle blue 4-runner with Doni and beelined for Boulder to meet Chels for a much needed hair-of-the-dog lunch. Three grilled cheeses and a strawberry-bourbon shake later, we were well on our way, and it didn’t stop until the moment I boarded the plane home.

There was Girl Talk and pizza and SO MUCH BOXED WINE. There was a VHS viewing of Britney live in Vegas, and choregraphed singalongs to boot. There were talks about Those Heavy (But Important) Things you can only discuss with kindred spirits (preferably over one too many glass of bubbles).

There was traispsing through an adorable saloon-style town with hippie boutiques where our tarot card reader told us we were not, in fact, drinking too much booze. (Hefty tip much??)

There was a spider in a brunch plate that bolstered our ability to consume many, many mimosas… instead of the eggs said spider had been drowning in. There were street performers and skipping tipsy through the streets with Ashalah and gigantor moose statues…

…and Christmas tree lightings…

…and tigers, oh my.

And while at times all the hippie-ness was just a tad overwhelming for a jaded city girl like me, and more than once I just wanted to just stand on a park bench and scream “I EAT OFF PAPER PLATES AT HOME!!!!!!!!”…

…Saturday was an absolutely lovely day of brunching, pregaming and bar hopping, and I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Especially when, at midnight, it seemed only logical that we should descend on the local strip club to put the debaucherous cap on our evening. Many singles and quite a few motorboats later (hey, at least they asked our permission first?)…

Afterwards, Chels and I headed home for some late night beers with a past Top Chef winner, who shall not be named. This was just lovely for me, as an avid TC fan, and through talking with him I discovered that a) said Top Chef winner is totally not a douchecanoe, despite the way the show portrayed him, b) Tom is truly as kickass as he seems and my chefetish is entirely justified; and c) Alex absolutely did NOT steal that English pea puree. (While this winner appeared on an earlier season, I asked his professional opinion as someone who’s been in that environment, and he confirmed that there is NO way that could have happened without the cameras seeing it. And also that a freaking pea puree takes about two seconds to make. Well, Alex, my official apologies. But despite that, you still are a douchecanoe, IMHO.)

So, all in all, it was the absolute perfect weekend escape, and if I ever decide to go Mormon, you can bet your ass Doni and Chels are the ladies I want at my marital side, singing karaoke Carrie Underwood at the top of our lungs in the living room over a box or three of wine every night.

Amen, prospective sister-wife. Amen.

Mama said share.

Ladies and germs, come on dowwwwwn to the Greatest Show/Hot Mess/Birthday Party/Epic to End All Epicness in the World!!!!

This Saturday I, along with my co-birthday gals Maxie & Liz, most of DC, and friends from California to Colorado to Pennsylvania to New York to Chicago to Seattle will be coming together to celebrate the amazing, the awesome, the helluva hot mess that is

We’ll be launching the PARTAY (hey! ho! hey! ho!) at Sign of the Whale (18th and M, Farragut North) at 8pm this Saturday evening, with no end in sight. Put on your big girl panties, your drinking hat, and come on out for a Grand Ole Time. Just say “PB and Tuna” at the door, and they’ll usher you into our top secret back room area, where we will enjoy $3 domestics, $3 rail drinks, and $4 SWEET TEA VODKAS, YO.

For more where/when/who info, and to RSVP (not required, but your mama raised you right, yes?)- please just click that big disgusting PB & Tuna button up there. For more reasons to show your pretty face and for pictures from last year’s event, check out my lovely lady Maxie’s post.

Can’t wait to see you all!!!!!!!!!

Mama said share.

I’ve led quite the charmed life, in truth.

Sure, there were a few miserable years in middle school. A (real, not teeny bopper) heart break or three. A grandfather passed- and though devastating, at 86, he’d led a full and honorable life, and was surrounded by an enormous family and friends who loved him dearly.

So. No, I’m not rich. In money, anyway… but as far as everything else? You know, the stuff that matters?

I’m making it rain, y’all.

While I absolutely do my fair share of bitching and moaning (I mean, sometimes, chained to this desk, there’s just nothing else to DO)- I’ve recently reached the opinion that I really need to just shut the hell up. Because between the fam, the man, the friends near and far, the city I love, you guys on the interwebs, the furbabies, and even the whole “living in America, land of the free” thing… I’m pretty much a fat cat, livin’ large and whatnot.

Basically me, if the dollah dollah bills were priceless treasures of LOVE and FRIENDSHIP and all that jazz.

Last week, some of my favorite people on the planet had their worlds rocked. In the Red Letter Day kind of way. I’m so hurt, so angry, so ACHING for them, and frankly, this shroud of helplessness? Isn’t really my color, either.

So for them, I count my blessings. For them, I stay strong, and try to make Liz laugh for the first time all day, and conspire to surprise Lexa with a gift from New York City, and to just be there for them, in that super corny but ohsoimportant sense.

Because life isn’t easy, and I know my time will come. I’m not naïve enough to think there won’t be incredible hardships in my future at some point.

I mean, they already canceled Arrested Development. COMMUNISTS. (Yes I know it’s like six years ago now but NO I am not over it and I’m not sure I ever will be. In GOB we trust.)

Ahem. But in the meantime, I will enjoy my ridiculously snugglicious cocoon of warm, supportive, hilarious people in my life, who for whatever reason seem to think I’m pretty neat.

In the words of Patrick Swayze (RIP)…

Ditto.

Mama said share.

Remember last summer when we all “Got Our Kvetch On, Blogging Style“? We bitched and moaned about the things that drive us INSANE when it comes to blog layouts, features, writing, etc.

Well, as a contributing editor over at DC Blogs, we deal with that shiz every time we go through some hundreds of blogs to find our favorites for a round up. Co-contributing editor Restaurant Refugee and I decided to have a drunken gchat of a rant share with y’all some of the things that (almost) automatically disqualify a post from being included.

So check it out and share your thoughts… or just see what I look like on gchat after throwing back a couple cocktails.

It’s Not You, It’s Your Aesthetic

P.S. B and I are going to be visiting the Windy City the weekend of October 9th to see my bffie Kbo run the Bank of America Chicago Marathon. This means two things:

1. My girl’s running with TNT to beat leukemia! If you have a dollar or ten to spare, please please support her!

2. If you’re in Chicago or will be or COULD be on Saturday, October 9th, let me know in the comments and I’ll add you to my email list for the meet up I’ll be plotting. What what!

P.P.S. Because it’s Friday: http://youshouldhaveseenthis.com

Mama said share.

Welcome to Part Dos of my BlogHer experience! (Numero Uno is here.)

I nursed my hangover by donning my keyboard cat shirt (play him off, Keyboard Cat!), which is scientifically proven to cure all ailments:

If there ever was a crowd to appreciate this shirt, it’s BlogHer. Trust. (Aren’t we all just crazy cat-lady bloggers on the inside, after all? I thought so.)

After some more Expo Hall swag-gathering, I met up with my darlings from Bloggers in Sin City: Katelin, LaceyBean, and Jessica B.for some good old-fashioned s’mores making.

No, seriously:

(photo via Diane Bondareff Photography)

Down the hall in the Serenity Suite, I finally got to meet the has-no-right-to-be-that-gorgeous-with-three-munchkins Kate from The Big Piece of Cake. (Never mind the fact that she lives, oh, two miles from me, and this is the first time we were able to meet.) Heart you, lady!

Then it was time to Swag Swap with Katelin, Lacey and Jess; AKA get rid of five pounds of stuff I didn’t need (read: couldn’t fit into my suitcase), and pick up a few choice items other people had decided to leave behind.

Imagine my Complete and Utter Joy when we discovered…

A FEATHER BOA AND CAPE, casually discarded like someone’s holey (not holy) granny panties!!! I instantly knew they were meant for me to give them a good home.

After we got all touristy with it, traipsing around Times Square (boa and cape included, of course), it was FINALLY time for…

The NYC 20sb Happy Hour!!!!!!!!!!!

I would love to list everyone who was there, but I would undoubtedly forget someone near and dear to my heart, so this will have to suffice:

(Click through to see those who RSVP'd)

(Shamelessly swiped from Katelin’s flickr stream)

Johnny Utah’s was a fantastic host to us 20sb-ers. I have no words for the amazing sauce of this evening… but I can show you it.

(Shamelessly swiped from Doni’s TweetPhoto stream)

(Shamelessly swiped from Katelin’s flickr stream)

Heart you, @missheidi !!!

Then we made our way back to the Sparklecorn and Cheezburger parties at BlogHer for epic dance parties and… well… other things that must be seen to be believed.

(Shamelessly swiped from Katelin’s flickr stream)

And because it’s just too good not to share:

So, yes… I had a Fucking Lot of Fun.

But more importantly, going to BlogHer and spending time amongst all these beautiful ladies (and the two Matts!) made me want to write again, which is something I haven’t really felt since all that MTV jazz began and I didn’t have time to think, breathe, eat or sleep for a month. It reminded me of all the great people I’ve met, people I’m proud to know and call friends, from all over the country, America’s hat, and beyond, who I desperately want to stay in touch with.

BlogHer, to me, wasn’t about the sponsors, or the lectures, or the swag. It was about meeting people, making new connections and reaffirming the old… the very reason I started this goddamn blog in the first place. I feel like through BISC and 20sb and BlogHer and PB AND TUNA ON OCTOBER 23rd!!!! and gchats and grabbing a drink when we’re in town, we’re really and truly friends. And that, that is a fantastic feeling.

P.S. Bull riding pics/video to come tomorrow…






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Mama said share.

Oh, BlogHer. I honestly don’t even know where to start.

*dives right in*

I got on a Bolt Bus Friday morning, anxious to meet my e-friend and roommate Elizabeth for the first time. I had an Expo/Party pass from the lovely Justine of Brand About Town, and two full days in NYC with only one specific thing on my schedule: the Saturday evening 20sb Happy Hour at Johnny Utah’s, where I had vowed to ride the hell out of their mechanical bull.

The bus took off and I was officially Excited In The Pants for all the things to come… until it broke down, an hour outside of DC. Like, electricity-off-broke-down… aka no A/C. So we suffocated on the side of the road until a new bus could be brought to fetch us. Finally, we were on our way again, and the trip was relatively uneventful until we were actually approaching NYC, and the bus was making unwieldy turn after bumpy exits after terrifying tunnel… and it was that moment I very urgently needed to pee.

Against my better judgment, matter won over mind, and I unsteadily made my way into the sliver of a “bathroom” at the back. Once inside, I was faced with a grave problem: there was no way to not fall over without supporting oneself against the walls, and yet there was no way I was touching those walls. I almost wish the next two minutes were on camera, as I was flipped around that 9 square foot space, using elbows and a few 1 ply squares of TP to try to keep myself from tumbling into the cesspool of a toilet, as well as relieve myself without decorating the restroom, or worse, myself.

Let’s just say by the time I made it out of there, I was fairly certain that mechanical bull wouldn’t be a problem at all.

We arrived without further incident, and I entered the Hilton New York in Times Square to see BlogHer here, there, and everywhere. We had taken OVER the place. Everywhere you looked were women chatting, sharing, promoting, exchanging, inspiring, laughing. By the time I made it up to my room, it was obvious that BlogHer had pwned the Hilton… and it was awesome.

I spent a couple hours exploring the Expo halls with Elizabeth, where sponsors handed out swag and chatted up their new products, but more importantly, were awesome people who actually wanted to hear what WE had to say. The number one question I was asked was, “Are you a blogger??” They were EXCITED to meet us, to share with us, to impress us. *cue “A Whole New World” music*

When my arms started to hurt from the bags o’ swag, I met the beautiful Kinsey for dinner at a pub around the corner from the Hilton. We’d met before at a happy hour in Boston, but it was so great to have some one on one time and really get to talk. She’s got some exciting things in store for you, Boston- be sure to watch that girl.

After a bit, my beloved Matt met up with us for drinks.

And drinks and drinks and drinks and drinks and drinks.

Kinsey took off for a Sex and the City tour with her girlfriends, so Matt and I did what any normal people would do:

Got even more plastered and found the nearest karaoke bar.

Shitfaced at some ridiculously pretentious strangely all-white basement club, we ordered our $12 drinks and looked at the song book. This choice was not to be taken lightly.

We had two requirements: first, it had to be a duet, and second, it had to be the absolute WORST duet we could possibly think of.

Please to enjoy…

Shortly thereafter (for obvious reasons), we called it a night.

In the morning, this happened:

Followed by this:

To be continued… (and, um… Saturday? Put Friday to SHAME. That is all.)

Mama said share.

Last night, I arrived home to a SNAIL MAIL PACKAGE!!!! from the marvelous @frickineh.

I tore into it to find… you guessed it… (wait, no you didn’t, because you’d never guess in a thousand years…

CAT FANNY PACKS!!!!!!!!!!!!

And, unshockingly, this was the best picture I could get of Axe Murderer in her shiny new red fannypack….

She is, ahem… not a fan.

Mama said share.