(This is where I should post a picture of me and my thumbs. But I don’t have that picture. So just imagine it.)
Sometimes, going to grad school is an expensive life- and time-suck that seems impossible and endless. Other times, your classes are fulfilling and your field work makes you feel like you’re affecting change and you geek out over research. And then, there are other times when your Graduate and Professional Student Association decides to treat you to a day of glam that truly embodies the concept of “Treating yo’ self“.
In honor of the Oscars on Sunday night, they threw us a little “Diva Party” which made for the ultimate Sunday Funday. Hair, nails (which we skipped in honor of trying on crazy expensive outfits), and makeup. I’m in there like swimwear.
I’d like someone to do this to my head daily.
My partner-in-crime, Martha, and I took part in several of the services. And even MORE of the macarons.
Cheesin’
The most delicious rainbow
I think between the two of us, we probably enjoyed 10-14 of those bad boys. Pistachio, as always, was my favorite. And since I had big plans for later (namely, a tasty bottle share with some of Philly’s most fun beer geeks), I figured I’d get all sorts of dolled up. Go hard or go home, right?
Sexy milk maid? Sure.
And, when in Rome (if Rome was the home of incredibly expensive and beautiful clothing), do as the Romans do.
Do the Romans play dress up?
I hope so.
I feel like Queen Amidala.
I admittedly didn’t have enough spare cash lying around to shell out for some Red Carpet Gown…. but if I did, I think I’d go back and get that dress. And then wear that dress ALL THE TIME to make sure I got the most bang for my buck.
Unfortunately, all that dress-up left me without time to get a manicure…. maybe I’ll find one somewhere in the Dominican Republic this weekend. I still left feeling like a total diva.
What’s your favorite way to “Treat Yo Self”?
I know some folks like Fine Leather Goods. I’m personally partial to fancy cheese…
On Thursday night, after being in a car for approximately 18 of the previous 48 hours and sending my baby brother off to college, I found myself a little weepy. Maybe I was a bit grouchy, my emotions were running fairly high, and I was exhausted. This, as everyone knows, is an ideal time to have a quarter life crisis.
Jealous of my Ugly Cry?
Since my 18th birthday, I’ve always been one of those chicks that makes her birthday a national holiday. Whether it’s jumping out of a plane, having a “That’s So Jordan” themed party, or dragging my buddies to a food and craft beer tour-de-Raleigh, I make sure my birthday is a true celebration. But, being in a new, unfamiliar city and knowing very few folks with whom I could celebrate, I was feeling a bit lost. I also couldn’t get the “bracket jump” out of my mind. No longer was I going to fall in that “18-24” age group. Nope, I was shifting into the “25-29” bracket. It seemed symbolic of some big change, which is ridiculous and very demonstrative of how I read far too much into things. Whatever it was, I was not my typical JOYFUL JORDAN.
Then, I woke up on Friday morning (August 24th, the day of my birth 25 years ago) to my mom BLASTING 50 Cent’s iconic “In Da Club”, with the telltale lyrics:
Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go, shawty
‘Cause it’s your birthday
We gon’ party like it’s yo birthday
We gon’ sip Bacardi like it’s your birthday
And you know we don’t give a ****
It’s not your birthday!
She danced into the room, and any fears of a bland, “blah” birthday where whisked out of my mind.
We U-Hauled the last of my junk into the apartment and I was on my own for the day. I headed to one of my favorite spots in the city, the PHS Pop-Up Garden by Rittenhouse Square.
Rainbow in the garden!
I nabbed some free chips and salsa and learned how to make Chipotle’s tomato salsa (which I’m attempting later today), and then grabbed something I’ve been dying to try for a while.
Ever since being scarred for life by their (viral and terrifying) commercial (you’ve been warned), I was itching to get some of the good stuff (though preferably not scooped from someone’s skull.)
Sweet treats and reads
This chai snickerdoodle ice cream sandwich filled with coconut chai (non-dairy) ice cream was much more my style, and I toted it along to the book store for a bit of light (re)reading.
After getting through a serious chunk of the book (and demolishing the sandwich), I decided I wanted some pampering and some girl time.
Burt’s Bees and Say Yes to the Dress: Match made in Heaven.
Scandalous! (I was wearing a towel, I promise.)
I wasn’t trying to star in an off-Broadway performance of the 1997 classic, Face/Off (tempting as that sounds), just enjoying a cooling Cucumber Aloe mask. It was just what I needed before I left the pampering to someone else.
Enter: Nail Bar. Simple concept. Salon, offering manis, pedis, and complimentary bevvies!!
All I need in this life.
Thanks, random stranger, for snapping my picture!
I came out with a sparkle on my nails and some bubbly in my belly. But, other than the ice cream sandwich and some cereal earlier, I didn’t have too much else in my belly.
YELP ELITE TO THE RESCUE!
Sweet spread, right?
Yelp’s Great American Happy Hour, hosted by ING Cafe, was my very first Yelp Elite event, and it certainly didn’t disappoint.
I considered the whole night a surprise party for me. The surprise, of course, was for Yelp, who didn’t know they were sponsoring my party!
There were delicious Underdogs (which, as I already mentioned, I’m a huge fan of…)
Dog bonanza!
My favorite was the My Thai (with spicy peanut sauce and green papaya slaw), and I even tried the mustardy Chicago style. Delicious, despite the fact that I am not a fan of mustard.
I got a chance to meet some new folks and, surprise surprise, there were two other birthday babes at the party. Despite the event limiting attendance only to the Yelp Elites, it didn’t feel elitist at all, and I was so amped to get myself out there and meet new people. For a social butterfly like me, an event like this is the ultimate adrenaline rush, so I jumped at the chance to join the after party at Devil’s Alley for a baby flight of beers.
Yummy x 4
Maggie M. and I, the birthday girls!
I rounded out the night the only way that made sense… My beau, a bottle of Epic Brewing’s Big Bad Breakfast Stout, and a pint of Butterfinger ice cream. And was treated to this little present when I checked in on Untappd:
DOUBLE BADGED!
500 unique beers? That makes me LEGEN (wait for it…………..) DARY!
I went to sleep with a buzz, not just from the booze (though that helped), but from a night spent with new friends and the love of my life. And though it was DEFINITELY a little different from some previous birthdays (Tequila balls and feather boas, anyone?), it was a successful bracket jump. And maybe I’ll get a little silly tonight with Krissie… Who’s to say I can’t celebrate twice?
And there’s nothing in the rule book that says a 25 (or 46) year old can’t wear a tiara on her birthday…
My goodness. A Sunday where I’m not headed to the airport, or saying goodbye to someone I love as they head out?! I forgot what this kind of day felt like. It’s been a busy weekend, but definitely not quite the chaos of jet-setting that I’ve become accustomed to. It’s like a breath of fresh air to not be skittering around trying to cram as much as I can into a weekend.
That being said, it didn’t stop me from cramming a lot in there (I think there is a that’s what she said joke to be found somewhere in there, but I’m not in that kind of mood.)
This week’s Six Pack Sunday seems to revolve around beers (duh), buddies, and bells. Jingle bells (read: Holiday cheer.)
1. A Partridge Brewski in a Pear Beer Tree
Tastes like holiday fun!
On Thursday night at Rockfish, I enjoyed my first official Christmas beer on tap! The dubious honor went to the Anchor Steam 37th Annual Christmas Ale . Anchor Steam, a brewery that Caitlin introduced me to after her hubby ventured to San Francisco for work, doesn’t always produce my favorite beers. My opinion was rocked, though, with this Christmas Ale! It tasted like mulled wine, done with beer. Cinnamon, nutmeg, maybe even a little fir tree? Either way. The taste was on point, and the complimentary glass, rimmed in gold, makes me feel like a fancy pants. Or a Santa pants.
2. Treat Yo’ Self
Don't mind if I do...
In case you don’t watch Parks and Recreation (I don’t), or you don’t use the internet (I hope someone printed this post out for you, weirdo), you might not be familiar with “Treat Yo’ Self”. Well, please observe the following video, summarizing the concept:
Well, I figured that Saturday morning, I’d do just that. After getting nearly all my Christmas shopping done before 10 a.m., I decided to treat myself with a pair of new tall black leather boots AND some homemade pumpkin French toast.
I’ll clue you in on a little secret: for me, pumpkin French toast just means that I mix pumpkin and pumpkin spice into the egg dip. It worked, it was delicious and decadent, and I felt like a little princess.
3. Applications: NO BREATHING!
Sweet set up
Yesterday, the only true goal of my afternoon was to finish up my personal statement. After working on it for several hours (who would’ve ever thought it’d be so hard to state my purpose?), I completed it at the Nordstrom eCafe! In case you’re not aware, the Nordstrom at Southpoint has free wireless which is reliable enough to stream Pandora! And, after dropping some SERIOUS change there earlier in the day, I figured I should finish my work where I started my morning. My romance with Nordstrom knows no bounds. None.
PS: Contrary to popular belief, my purpose is not just “Drink awesome beers, sweat up a storm while I dance, and dress up in wacky outfits because theme parties are the defining occurrences of my life.”
That would’ve been a much easier essay to write.
4. Speaking of Wacky Outfits…
Fashion is my middle name.
Leggings, boots, Santa suit, undies on my head, and PBR suspenders aren’t what you wear when you go out on a Friday night?
My new friend, Amanda, and I went to celebrate the completion of my essay with some big girl drinks at Fox Liquor Bar. This Raleigh establishment reminded me a lot of the Crunkleton in Chapel Hill where the focus is on well crafted cocktails made with care and love. And giant ice cubes.
My drink of choice was the Late Night Reviver: Beefeater gin, Fernet Branca, ginger, lime juice, soda water. Shake and served long with a garnish of candied ginger. Amanda went with the classic Old Fashioned.
The best looking pair at the bar, other than us, of course
Hopefully, the classiness of our cocktails out offset the magnum of Arbor Mist we consumed in a Rugrats drinking game earlier in the night.
It’s all about balance, right?
6. Rap Battle in the Basement
I could be hallucinating but, if the sounds I hear are correct, this is what’s going on in the apartment below me:
Is this 8 Mile? (click for source)
There’s a lot of loud, angry rap music going on and I think my floor is vibrating.
If I’m missing Eminem rhyme birthday with first place, I’m gonna be super ticked.
If he’s shirtless, the ticked is going to be on a whole new level (woops. Confession of attraction to shirtless white rapper for the day? Check.)
Jeez, I think I need a nap.
How would you “Treat Yo’ Self”? Fine leather goods?
Food, Sweat, and Beers 