There are many different types of blogs in this world. Industry blogs, dating blogs, financial blogs, news blogs, pop culture blogs, mommy blogs… you name it, someone’s writing about it.

But what I consider this place to be, and the type of blog I relate to, are “lifestyle” blogs. People who talk about the interesting things that happen to them; momentous life events, hopes and dreams, funny stories, and the like. And if I had to wager a guess, the vast majority of posts from these blogs involve one little thing we can ALL relate to:

VENTING.

Delightfully exaggerated, unadulterated hatred for the minute, yet uncompromisingly annoying day-ins and day-outs of our lives. The endless atrocities that strangers, traffic, and small children commit against us each and every day. Dare I say, a lot of this very blog revolves around such things; in fact, if you click on my post category “hatred“, there are some 25 posts there alone. While I don’t think this is unusual, as writing is often a therapeutic outlet for frustration, I do sometimes worry that all you guys see of me is the haterade. It’s only natural- we as humans are much more likely to share a bad experience than a good one, because dammit, commiseration feels GOOD, yo. But I don’t want that to be the only side of me shown here.

Truly, I am a lover. I love LOTS of stuff. I love dive bars, wine, red meat, brunch, cats, rollercoasters, cheeseburgers, and- believe it or not- even a sizeable handful of people in this world.

(Sidebar: while we’re on this topic, are you one of those people who says you “love to laugh” in your social media bio? Because ZOMG YOU MUST BE THE ONLY PERSON IN THE WORLD WHO LIKES THAT! You are so original. I bet you also don’t like having the flu, and that you prefer Fridays to Mondays! Let’s bond over our mutual affinity for being happy rather than sad together!!)

Whoops… a little venting fell out. Moving on!

So, to mix it up, here’s some of the GOOD in my life – those little things that will make me love you, almost as quickly as standing on the left side of the escalator will make me shank you.

What?

Things That Will Make Me Instantly Adore You:

(thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much!)

Making a “there’s always money in the banana stand…” reference.

Belting out a song in public, karaoke or impromptu. (Extra points as the song gets more embarrassing.)

Giving your seat on the bus to a lady, a munchkin, someone older, etc.

Being fully aware of, accepting, and openly discussing your flaws (not in a debbie-downer way; just a self aware, “I’m working on this” way).

Admitting when you’re wrong.

Giving me an honest opinion in the dressing room. I am depending on you to set me up for (booty) success, here.

Expressing a love for meat. (Extra points for meat wrapped in other meat.)

YES and also PLEASE.

Not being afraid to cancel our grandiose plans of sight-seeing or museums in favor of getting tipsy and people watching. (Also see: recognizing the inherent value in getting tipsy and people watching).

Showing up at my house with an awesomely bad movie and three bottles of wine… for the two of us.

Openly weeping tearing up at children’s movies. (Up, Wall-E, Toy Story 3, I’m looking at you.)

Getting me a wee present when you go on vacation, just because you wished I was there.

Knowing that women have a right to their bodies, and everyone has a right to get married.

Only judging me a little when I openly mock jeggings for months, and then maybe sort of buy a pair… (only for boots! I swear!)

Tipping the bartender… well.

Not having a ginormous stick up your ass. (This shouldn’t be as hard to find as it is.)

Surrounding yourself with quality people who are funny, welcoming, and also don’t have ginormous sticks up their asses.

Come to think of it, I may just change my Twitter bio to “I totally don’t have a stick up my ass, even if I did hypocritically buy a pair of jeggings.” Thoughts?

Mama said share.

If you peek at my left sidebar, you’ll notice a lot of pretty buttons linking to, as I like to call them, “Lovely Stuff ‘n Things”. These are shops that I know and love and am honored to have as sponsors. In light of the holiday season, I thought we might take a closer look…

Santastitch

Among other things, Santastitch specializes in absolutely adorable homemade gloves (I like the fingerless ones for easy smartphone access) and cheeky cross-stitch quotes that I want, well, ALL of. (There’s even some from the infamous Sue Sylvester in there…)

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3crows

Next up, Sara Pulver’s adorable shop of “Whimsical, Fun and Funny Animal Paintings and Prints”! YES, PLEASE. This undeniably adorable-with-a-dark-twist shop has dozens of creations ready to purchase, OR Sara can make your very own custom painting. If your mother is as obsessed with her dog as mine is, it may just be the perfect extra thoughtful gift this Christmas. Check it:

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SwirlyGarden

Meena’s hand-painted glassware took my breath away the first time I saw it. How do you not fall in love with someone whose favorite materials are “Anything that can get messy”?  I mean, just LOOK as this stuff:

SWOON.

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per:cent

As if Kat’s adorable handcrafted jewelry (made from vintage materials, fabric, stone and found objects) wasn’t reason enough to surprise someone with a piece from her shop this holiday, she also donates 20% of her profits to the Sierra Student Coalition, an amazing youth run environmental organization. She’s a fellow blogger as well, so check out her there after you’ve picked out your favorites from her shop, like these…

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PuppyDogsNPolkaDots

Every time I take my iPad out in front of someone new, they squeal. Know why? Because its case looks like this:

I KNOW. This lovely shop features adorable handmade cases for eReaders, iPads, iPods, phones, cameras, and more, as well as a zillion adorable fobs that I basically want all of. They worked with me to create the exact case I wanted, from fabric to patterns to monogramming, and they’d be happy to do the same for you.

They’ve got so much freaking cute stuff in their shop I could never do it justice here- so please click through and check it out for yourself- but here’s a sampling of my favorites:

For the Twitter addict:

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simply – bags

This mom ‘n pop operation of monogrammed tote bags is one of my favorites. Whether you’re looking for a laptop, diaper or beach bag, they have every style you could ever want, from animal print to bold and fun to classic and chic. They even have WINE bags- um, love. Here’s a few of my faves:

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Finally, my friend Jess has a request for you, on behalf of her and her recently-deployed best friend, Alex:

“The site “Let’s Say Thanks” allows people to have cards sent with a personal message to deployed soldiers. It takes less than five minutes, but it means the world to the soldiers recieving them. In 10 short days, Alex will be one of the deployed on a 365 tour in Afghanistan. Thank you, very much, from the both of us.”

Please take just a few minutes from your day to remind a soldier abroad how grateful we are for what they do for us. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be across the world away from their families and loved ones over the holidays, but we can hopefully put a smile of their faces with a card of thanks. Do it. DO IT.

And happy freaking holidays, y’all.

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Want to see your shop/blog/etc. on my sidebar? Click here for more info.

Mama said share.

So, hi. And stuff.

I know, I know, I’m not here much lately. But trust me, that is my gift to you. Because if I actually DID try to write anything right now it would pretty much go like this:

BLAH BLAH JOB HUNT BLAH KILL MYSELF BLAH BLAH STRESSY MCSTRESSORSON BLAH SOMEONE SHOOT ME BLAH WHERE IS MY WINE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

And really, no one needs to hear that. (Except for my IRL friends and family, who have no choice. Uh. Sorry guys.)

So, that’s where I’m at right now. But I’m still around, to be sure. You know I’m too much of an e-addict to just disappear completely. In fact, I’m over here every Tuesday. I’ll be at this AND this tonight. And you guys know I’m always here and here… and finally, the darling B and I are (newly, and probably against his will) over here, shizzing it up on the daily.

Hopefully, once things settle down, I’ll have the energy to share once again. But for now, all I have the strength to do is live, day by day. (And tweet by tweet.)

Until then, please enjoy…

CATZILLA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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.

Money.

Delicious, envy green, key-to-all-things shoes and pedicures and cute Betty Draper-esque dresses money.

We’ve had quite the love/hate relationship for as long as I can remember.

Hate because I’ve never had much of it.

Love because it’s shaped my closet, my friends, and most of all, my life.

I took a job at the local TGI Friday’s when I was 16, because my father thought I should “earn” all the silly clothes I wanted from Express and The Limited (back when The Limited actually made cool clothes, and not just uniforms for middle-aged women trying to repress their sexuality). Basically, my dad was the father from Calvin & Hobbes who was always telling me that dealing with annoying things like “wearing a sweater instead of turning on the heat” and “camping” and “getting a job” would build character.

(Love you, Pops.)

Little did I know that was the beginning of a decade I would spend in restaurants, and that the way I earned that money would determine the kind of people I surrounded myself with for the rest of my life.

Those TGIFs folks are my oldest friends. When I went down South to UNC Chapel Thrill, I actually joined a sorority, mostly for shits and giggles (and a place to live on campus). Those girls didn’t become my friends. I probably couldn’t tell you one of their names.

The people I worked with at the Carolina Brewery, at The Weathervane, and at multiple restaurants around Southpoint mall… those are my college friends who’ll be at my wedding, who I can’t live without seeing every year, whose baby!!! I couldn’t be more excited for.

And finally, here in DC… my friends may be young professionals, but most of them worked in the service industry at some point. They learned the value of a hard day’s work, they fight with me over the bill when we go to lunch, and they always leave a healthy tip for our server.

It is a culture that’s shaped my financial values, my friends, and the way I live my life.

I may have scored a 49 on Charles Schwab Community Services‘s new handy dandy financial fitness check-up tool, but I’m pretty sure that’s mostly because I’m forgetful about bills sometimes, and I’m not great about saving for a rainy day. (I bet Chuck can help with that.)

I'm pretty sure this is a "meh".

Overall, I’m pretty darn content with the impact that money’s had on my life.

Because yes, Dad, I’ll say it… YOU WERE RIGHT.

It did build some goddamn character.

Mama said share.

Over the past couple week’s I’ve been inspired by the “Gift-Giving Guides” everyone’s been posting; in fact, I think I’ve been able to cross off almost half of my own Christmas list because of them. So, I thought I would come up with one of my own, and hopefully help a few of you X some names off your own lists as well.

And so we have it,

“The Holiday Gift Guide, LiLu Style”

In this terrifying day and age, it’s only natural that you should want to protect your loved ones from the dreaded plu.  Stuff their stockings with this Swine Flu Survival Kit!

Protect thee from the bacon!

Speaking of bacon, is this not The Awesome???? I like my money greasy…

I have absolutely zero justification for the existence of these… all I know is I WANT THEM.

Hander. PANTS! Hander. PANTS!

Tell me, when is the “Christmas Story” leg lamp NOT a good idea? All I want to know is, does it come in a box marked “Fra-geel-ay”???

Front and center in my house, baby.

Need a $10 present for an office gift-swap? Try and tell me this “Swearing F-bomb Talking Plush Bomb” isn’t JUST the thing!!

Do they make this in sling shot form?

Now, this just wouldn’t be a LiLu gift-guide without something poo related. So here you are, animal lovers… the “Little Poopsie Dog Poop Chew Toy”!

"He called the shit poo!!!"

All I want to know is, why on EARTH am I just finding out about the all-amazing Hopsholster?! I can pretty much guarantee there will be two of these in my house on Christmas morning, one way or another…

Um. How much for those abs?

Celebrities and ducks… who can believe this is the very first time these two phenomenons are coming together??

All he's missing is his green hat.

Back when B was still all “I’m allergic to cats” (pssssh!), I was obsessed with getting one of these little guys. And yes, it was 98% because of this video. No shame.

Boogie boogie!!!

For the man (or differently lift-styled lady) in your life, Bobble Babe drink holders! (Click through for jiggle…)

Tee hee!

Yes, I know this is really, really wrong. But am I the only one who also finds it absolutely HILARIOUS??

I am such an a-hole.

And last but not least, the crowning jewel… adult feety pajamas for the win!!!!!!!!!

This is me never leaving my house again.

Love it. Happy shopping, and remember… there’s always money in the banana stand!

Mama said share.

A good percentage of you have been to the apartment that B and I call home. I don’t think any of you would argue when I say that it is, in a word, GORGEOUS. Here’s all the pics from when we first moved in, or just look:

Hardwood floors, sky high ceilings, shiny new appliances, a WINE fridge, a patio for grilling, and a 10-20 minute walk from almost anything you’d want to do in downtown DC. The neighborhood is full of characters but safe, it’s 1 block from the metro and the grocery store, there’s a nursery on the corner, and our landlord is a dream to deal with. Oh yeah, and every shindig we’ve thrown there has been an absolute blast.

So why on earth would we ever, EVER move, you might ask?

Because $350 electric bills are not my friend. Because it was a LEETLE too expensive, anyway, and on September 1st, the rent is going up. Because, frankly, we bit off a bit more than we could chew in the excitement of moving in together for the first time, and now that reality is setting in, it’s time to trade down.

 So, we’re looking. And, um, it is not going well.

You see, the reason WHY we ended up in said gorgeous apartment is becoming crystal clear. I am the type of person who would rather live in a shack, so long as it is in the middle of the action. I’m a LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION kinda gal. I also have very little regard for things like “safety” and “number of shootings per month in the area”.

Being a person with a slightly more practical mentality, B would prefer to sacrifice some of the “where” for the “what”. The what being less rent, nicer amenities, and being able to walk home without constantly plotting what your plan of action would be if someone jumped you.

I get that, I do. But to me, being at the center of everything is just priceless.

Looking back, this all explains why we ended up where we are now. It’s all the things that both of us wanted, which is, of course, why it’s so damn expensive. So, now that we’re trying to compromise and find someplace cheaper that we both can stand, it seems we are at an impasse. (Inconceivable!) The only problem is, rents in DC have seemingly shot through the roof as of late, and “compromising” seems to mean “moving somewhere we could never, ever bring our parents to.”

He says Navy Yard. I say I would sooner die.

I say Columbia Heights, but, you know, the less safe (less expensive) parts. He says he likes being un-mugged. (Psssssshhhh.)

He says up the red line, towards Maryland. I say Cleveland Park is my limit, and even then it’s far too cookie-cutter for my liking.

I say further into Shaw, maybe Ledroit Park. He says we’re so white, we would positively GLOW there.

(Well, and he’s right. But here’s Katie’s and my theory; people don’t “just get shot” over there the way people “just get mugged” in Adams Morgan and Columbia Heights. In east Shaw, if someone gets killed, it’s because they had it coming. It’s not like random drive bys, or stray bullets. It’s like, you fucked my baby daddy, and now I’m gonna kill you. Which is totally fair, no?)

And Virginia? Well, he knows better than to suggest Virginia. I’d probably break up with him.

Kidding.

(Maybe.)

We’re looking at three places today, and the only one we’re both excited about is most likely a scam, judging from the CL ad. We’re going anyway, just because, well, that’s how desperate we’re getting.

At this point, I’m sort of caving and wanting to just stay where we are and make it work. Who needs heat, anyway? We have our love to keep us warm.

(Don’t worry, I just punched myself for you.)

So, uh, if you live in downtown DC, and, um, need a house sitter for the next year… please to let us know? Otherwise, I’m pretty sure we’ll be homeless in about five weeks. I’m too pretty to be homeless, so I’ll end up taking a sugar daddy and B will be selling crack in dark alleys. If you see us bathing in the fountain in Farragut Square, please do the polite thing and pretend you don’t see us.

After you slip us a fiver, of course.

Mama said share.

Okay, so, I lied. Don’t look so surprised!

But, I will be making my WordPressy move TOMORROW, not today. Still ironing out a coupla things. As I said this weekend…

“While my url will still be http://livitluvit.com, the one problem is that if you subscribe to my posts via Google Reader or whatever, they ain’t going to show up no more.

So let’s fix that, here and now.

Simply click this button to subscribe to my NEW home via your Google or other favorite reader…

Or, if you want, you can just subscribe by email and have my shiz hand-delivered to your inbox. Crazy talk, I know!

DO IT TO IT! (I very excite.)”

Okay, now that we’ve got our BIZNAS out the way, let’s move on to this alleged “transformation” I alluded to last Friday.

You see, I’ve been thinking about cutting mah hairs off for some time now, and I finally went for the glory. If you remember, it used to look like this…

Not too shabby, but, well, it’s looked that for a few years now… = BOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRING.

So, I may have done this.

Oh, right. Maxie and I also may or may not have reenacted “War Paint” with my homemade BBQ sauce this weekend at my 4th of July shindig. What of it?

Anyhoo, so of course I was all excited on Friday to get home and show B my new hairdid. And, um, well… I came home to find THIS.

Please to forgive the quality, as I was A) in shock and B) using my Blackberry.

Take two.

All that pretty, pretty hair… Surely he feels some remorse??

Sigh. Guess not. Well, let’s see the finished product, shall we?

Yes, we matched on purpose. We’re corny/hilarious/awkward like that.

Let’s see it from a couple more angles… art like this must be admired.

Yeah… that’s about right.

Of course he had to go and upstage my haircut with a MOHAWK. Jerkface. That I love.

At least it was for America.

Happy Monday, y’all. Hope your weekends rocked your socks off!

Mama said share.

When I first started this bloggy thing here, I was all, “memes are lame. I’m never doing one.”

Then I got drunk and was hungover one Friday and decided that maybe I could do one, especially if I threw in a little Rick Astley… no one would notice. So I did, and actually, it turned out to be one of my weirdest/favorite posts.

Then one Monday I got lazy and someone challenged me to be even more honest-er than I usually am on here… and I’ve never been one to turn down a CHALLENGE! (Love you, Bill Cosby, you tap-dancing fool.) So, I buckled and did another one.

THEN, a few days ago, my interweb future-BFF C.J. Koster (no, seriously, go read his shiz… now!) tagged me in yet another meme (additional thanks to the fun, amazing and talented Jane and Sevi, who also saw fit to tag my lazy ass).

I was all set to ignore (I keed, I keed), but then I noticed that he had also tagged my hero, Jenny the Bloggess. I got so excited that my name was within 1 internetty inch of hers that I decided to go for the glory.

So, here we have it, folks… my THIRD and probably-not-final meme. And I promise not to say “I won’t do memes anymore.” My word is my bond, a la Hook.

• Waking up to find a kitten curled on my chest. Even if they do fart down my throat sometimes…

• Making fun of people on the street in my head. Like the guy I saw this morning who bent over and his pants had a clear discoloration in the middle of his khakis from YEARS of farting.

• When totally awesome people come visit from out of town to drink with me in person.

• Stand-up comedy, namely, seeing Judah Friedlander live on June 19th at the DC Improv. You should come. (Click the link for a taste of his amazingocity.)

• When B is inebriated and physically can’t go more than 30 seconds without telling me he loves me. Seriously, it’s like the cutest little case of Tourettes.

• FINALLY getting a friend’s new blog template fixed and making them squealishiously happy (meaning, they want to buy me drinks).

• Playing “Would You Rather” chicken with Maxie for four hours on the way home from NYC, making Deutlich and Lemmonex vomit into their Cinnabons all the while.

• Making awesome dance videos with my mob partners in crime, Persivia Panchante, Caviandra Mersinago, and Lunimara Grivonelli. Rinochetta Parinsino here, waiting and very afraid to see what Alexa makes us dance to this weekend… stay tuned.

Okay, this is getting long, so let’s make it five from here on out. Cause I cheat like that.

• Pooped so much I decided to start a diet, just because I felt that skinny afterwards. How’s THAT for special?

• Got sent three lolcats from my Dad, like this one. Because he is that much of a schmoopy dork.

• Realized that my little sister is graduating from college in two weeks and HOLY FUCK I AM OLD.

• Inspired by BWP, admitted publicly that not only do I enjoy Dane Cook’s comedy, I’d probably do him. *Shields face from tomato throwers*

• Cried into my cheerios because I shrunk my used-to-fit-perfectly black pants.

• Sing like Mariah Carey. I know she’s a skeezy cradle-robbin hooker now, but “Always Be My Baby” still gets me every time. *Wakes up from 1995*

• Be as funny as everyone who’s funnier than me. You know who you are.

• Travel to every single country in the whole damn world. Except for Lesotho. Something about it just doesn’t grab me.

• Have a kajillion bajillion dollars. Or at least a banana stand lined with money.

• On that note, BRING BACK ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT. At least there is the movie to look forward to… and Year One, which I couldn’t be more excited for.

• Your mom. Just kidding. Unless she’s a tourist in DC and in my way when I am trying to, yanno, get from one place to another like a civilized human being with things to do.

• Sauerkraut. The very smell makes me want to vomit in the hair of whoever is eating that ungodly stuff. Just a heads up, friends…

• Having to “work” in an “office” to “get paid.” It’s for the birds, man, for realsies. One day the world will wake up and just send me checks for being me. I’m kind of like the guy on Jackass, except I don’t get paid. Do I have to go to rehab first? Then do I get my cut?

• Dutch-ovening B. (Oh wait… that’s one of my FAVORITE things. Wrong list.)

• Looking like a (low-class) hooker at work because my T&A finally decided to show UP in a big way so none of my old clothes fit and I spend all my money on booze and cat litter instead of grown-uppy things like “work outfits” and “practical shoes” and “rental insurance.”

(On a related note, p

lease don’t burn my apartment down.)

Phew. There you have it, C.J./Jane/Sevi and anyone else who tagged me that I was dick enough to forget about.

To everyone else… Your turn!

Mama said share.