BARCocoa at The Ritz

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I’ve been to The Ritz never in my life and then suddenly twice in one week. I’m such a fraud.

Last week was a black tie gala for work hosted by the British Consul. I went with my work BFF who convinced me to wear fake eyelashes for the first time. We found the most hilarious and uncensored woman there and all had a raucous good time.

Tonight was a menu preview at BARCocoa, the hotel’s on-site dessert boutique. I was supposed to be at a baseball game, but when given the choice between sports and macarons I think we all know where I stand. When I tell you this event made my day I mean it made my day.

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Curly Hair: Let’s Talk About It


I love having curly hair, but it wasn’t always this way. Growing up I didn’t know I had curly hair and if I did wouldn’t have known what to do with it. Surrounded by friends and family members with straight hair, I just did to mine what they did to theirs: brushed it, blow dried it, over shampooed it… gave it bangs. Today I know these are all terrible atrocities against naturally curly hair, but it took a brave hairdresser suggesting that we let my hair air dry “to see what happens” when I was 13 and about 10 more years of trial and error to get this on lock.

The result of my living in hair denial for so long is a 13-year photographic record of pure horror. If I can save one girl the anguish of these permanent images from which there is no escape, my time here will have been well spent.

Short of filming an in-shower tutorial (which will never happen), here is everything I know about working with curly hair.

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Caturday 4.12.14

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I don’t lie about a whole lot of things but when it comes to telling most men how many cats I have, I dance around the subject like Bill Nye in a bow tie–frantically and without skill.

There are three types of cat ladies: (1) those who have no idea how crazy they are, (2) those who know how crazy they are and don’t care, and (3) those who know how crazy they’re perceived and try to argue otherwise. I’m the last one and it’s a fruitless battle, my friends. But I will die trying. (Alone and covered in cat hair.)

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Recovery Drink

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I am so sick of drinking right now. I don’t know what it is but I feel like I have an event every single night of week and I don’t know about you but I’m not nearly strong enough in my “I hate drinking” conviction to turn away from an open bar BUT…

I’m not nearly the drinker I paint myself to be, promise. I’m a two-and-done kind of girl (most of the time), but two drinks five nights a week is killing me softly right now.

So in honor of my current alcohol exhaustion, here are the drinks I’ll definitely say no to:

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Life Lately 4.8.14

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My office is, in my opinion, hands down one of the funniest and most enjoyable places to sit on my ass for 40ish hours a week. I have no complaints. In my marketing jargon I’ll say that our open office plan and signature 15-foot family-style work table exists to level the traditional workplace hierarchy and foster productivity via open communication among the entire team, and that’s true but… It also fosters us just torturing each other all day. No one is safe.

We’re an eclectic crew hailing from India, Thailand, China, Australia and the US (though American citizens are in the minority) and we like to eat. I learned quickly that a favorite pastime of my international colleagues is to lie to close-minded Americans about stereotypical stories from their homelands and see if we fall for it and also make us sample treats from around the world. (If you’re wondering, I fall for and eat everything that’s presented to me.)

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