Feliz Cindo de Mayo

Happy Cinco de Mayo* friends.

While not Mexico's independence day, I (along with a number of beer companies) ask all of us to celebrate the power that a small group of determined Mexicans had when they gave an EPIC beatdown to the Frenchies in a battle of all battles at Puebla.

Outnumbered, outgunned, but thankfully not outsmart, they held their own and were able to keep the French occupation away from Mexico...for a little bit anyway.

Hopefully Mexico will be able to challenge their inner warrior again and deliver a similar beatdown to France when the two meet during the world cup qualifying round and send those bitches PACKING HOME. VIVA MEXICO! VIVA! VIVA ZAPATA**! VIVA!***

Anyway, the moral of the story here kids is that at the end of the day, and in any situation, don't ever give up and always, ALWAYS, go down swinging...who knows you may just win in the end.

SI SE PUEDE!

This post is dedicated to staying thirsty my friends (and my lovely sister)

*Cinco de Mayo, boys and girls, also happens to be the official holiday of my lovely hometown, San Jose. A day best celebrated by cruising, booty shorts and halter tops, and boys hanging over their car doors with camcorders (or I guess this day in age video enabled mobile phones) asking girls for their numbers. Sigh, I miss being home.

** Sooo a different battle but seriously it sounds way better than Zaragoza.

*** Nothing against the French, except during world cup time...and any other country that dare go against Mexico or the US...just sayin.

Open Letter To Jill Zarin

Dear Jill,

Seriously, what the hell? I really liked you, I really did, but something about this season to me has completely turned me off, along with your wannabe crony friend LuAnn.

What’s up with all the nastiness towards everyone babes? I mean first there is the whole Bethany thing …I don’t even know where to start at. I mean yes, she told you to get a life, but based on your reaction this season, you truly should get a life. She is busy, she has work, she has a new man. Yes. So talking 20 times a day may be a bit too much. Oh did I mention she has a job, yeah? Good.

But it’s not just Bethany that makes me not like you, let’s talk a gander down judgmental memory lane to see where else you have faltered as a dear old friend:

• The Brooklyn Fashion Show: Really? You thought that the best use of your time at a charity fashion show was to criticize the fashions down the runway and then make fun of your fellow cast mates instead of providing support. That just made me sad because it takes a lot of courage to walk down a runway with people judging you, I should know, I was a former model.*
• Ramona’s Skin Care Line Party at Equinox: First of all, how was equinox? I am really, really, really considering switching gyms once my ankle situation improves. Where was I going with this? OH YES, I mean really did you need to walk in there with all of your god damned opinions…it is a freaking skin care line, get over it.
• LuAnn’s evite to the Cocktails and Couture: HA HA, I did have to laugh because I too think evites are overall tacky but seriously this is not your event so shut your pie hole. I mean this is coming from the same woman who lets her stupid yelpy ass little dog poo on people then disses their “rubber” shoes. Ass.

Need I say more? No? Alright then.

I mean I have friends who are delusional half the time about how they have been wronged (though they really haven’t) and now they are a force to be reckoned with. Or how their poor choices are really not so poor because they are getting back at someone or something and it is that someone or something’s fault other than their own. So I guess I kinda get it. But not really because in the words of Kelly (though she meant this towards Bethany) “you are really really mean dude.” Totes unwarranted.

It actually kind of reminds me of the wannabes at school who tried so desperately to be popular and then in an afterlife of college, or strip joints, or whatevers they found their inner selves and decided that the best use of that self discovery was to be mean to other people. Laughable.

Anyway, I guess all I am trying to say…Jill Zarin…is that you should learn to take a good unbiased look in the mirror to make sure you are not the one being an asshole here. Just sayin.

In other news, OMG did anyone peep the life size portrait of Sonja and her dog? IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:

HA HA, I MUST get one of these for the loft of me and my fabulous new dog Tara Reid.

This post is dedicated to Pinot Grigo

*OMG, this is totes not true but it fits in with the story line so go with it.

Single People Alone Together

I read this really interesting blog post* by this group of 20 somethings at work on their definition of marriage and what it means to be married. And, while I am nowhere near being a “20 something” I could seriously relate to all of the stories at one point or another in my life.

And it got me thinking to my own relationship, and what it means to be married. I mean, most of my friends are all single and damn proud of it as they should be, and even those of my friends who are married (which are like 3 of them) most act like single people anyway. So why did I go over to the “dark side” and choose wife instead of life?

I never wanted to get married, I will admit that. And even though Vicky and Pistol took bets that I would eventually change my mind, I was adamant in my decision that I wanted no part of that. So I sit here, in a pool of my own hypocrisy, happily married to a wonderful man and I can’t imagine my current life any different.

To me marriage meant children, it meant the second shift after work of cooking and cleaning and laundry (minus the gym and the tanning), it meant having to sacrifice who I am and the relationships I have built in order to become a perfect “we” to a man I have only known for a short period of time…I mean who the hell wants that?!?!

So what changed? What made me want to take that leap of fate that I wouldn’t be walking down the path of indentured servitude all in exchange for a shiny ring and a big party?

Honestly? It was rethinking the whole concept of marriage and creating my own dysfunctional version of it with a boy who seemed to be on board with my crazy antics. It was the understanding that I would be still be allowed to be myself – with my one sock wearing*, Britney obsessing, over working antics – without being judged and without being weighed down by this extra person who I am now legally tied to through various state documents.

I mean yes, there is still the cooking and cleaning part that I do (and he takes no part of) but really I can’t even blame him for that. It is my Latin Catholic upbringing, and the constant reminder from my parents that I need to be a better wife, that forces me to come home and make these elaborate meals while loading the washer, and feeding the dog, and a million other things, all the while checking my work email and responding to crisis. And when I complain, I get the “we should just hire someone to do that stuff” so I guess it’s all self induced from an internal cultural instinct like birds migrating south** for the winter.

But at the end of the day, Xtian and I are very much our own independent selves. I mean honestly, we both work and travel so much and even when we are home we are at our own respective workstations that it seems more like a roommate, with occasional benefits, situation than anything else. I trust and respect him, innately, and seek his advice as a teammate in my so called life but honestly how is that any different than my BFFs and if I lived with them(aside from the benefits situation, although they are all pretty hot so you never know)? And it works…for me. And isn’t that all that should really matter?

Now, I am in no means advocating that everyone get married or that everyone needs to be coupled up at all. What I am saying is that you don't let others define what your happiness is. Don't let people bully you into thinking that you need to be single or be married for that matter (lord knows I get pleanty of eye rolls and snarky remarks for being married). Define your own happiness and to hell with the rest.

::steps off soapbox::

This post is dedicated to Booger, Vicky B and Pistol…my forever soul mates

*If you are interested in the blog shoot me a note and I will email it to you
**If you got this, thank you for being my BFF.
***I am going with south here because it is closer to the equator and that is warmer…brownie points to those who get the reference

360 Degrees of Awesome

As a proud member of all things extreme I have to say I officially have an extreme sports injury. And by extreme sports I really mean that my ankle could not stand the pressure of my weight any longer and gave way…while I was wearing Nike running shoes (you know the kind with the stabilizers inside)…while walking at a good 1.5 miles per hour…on a flat surface…in front of my yoga studio…FML.

Yes kiddies, I have sprained my ankle in the lamest way possible and to try to compensate I have made up a wild story at work about how I fell skateboarding*…except no one believes me because apparently I am not the skateboarding type. Sigh.

Case in point, IM convo with friend at work:
Ritchie Rich: hey, what the hell

Gravy Train: i went skateboarding this weekend and sprained my ankle

Ritchie Rich: you went to watch other people skateboard?

Ritchie Rich: and sprained your ankle climbing the stadium stairs?

Gravy Train: why does no one believe me

Gravy Train: i would totally skateboard

Ritchie Rich: GT, those kids fall

Ritchie Rich: a lot

Ritchie Rich: on their face

Gravy Train: OMG, ewe

Gravy Train: I mean rad**

I mean honestly, what the hell? At some point in my short…okay…long tenure at work I have seem to have come across as this girly girl square whose closest thing to extreme are the 4 inch heels she wears only sometimes because anything over 2.5 inches at work I think is inappropriate. And clearly I don’t even follow that as most people assumed that I had fallen out of my ridiculous heels and sprained my ankle that way.

When did this happen? I am sure at some point in my life I had an “extreme” edge...like the time I wanted to go Snowboarding and I picked out the perfect puffy white snow outfit for it. Or like the time I wanted to go skydiving and I found the perfect little rose colored goggles…I mean what is not extreme about that? And I absolutely ADORE surfing and would do it waaaayyyy more often if it did not require being in the sun and prematurely aging oneself, just saying.

Sigh, so the new goal is to do something extreme this year once my ankle recuperates. Any ideas?

So with that, I leave you with a hot ass picture of my cankle taken at work yesterday, yum, so you could ponder how I can get more of these in more legitimate ways.

This post is dedicated to the RICE method

* I honestly don’t know why I did not say a tennis injury as I actually do attempt the tennis playing often and it would be totes feasible for me to hurt myself while doing it. But I panicked and skateboarding was the first thing that came to mind.
** do the kiddies still say rad?

What Not To Wear

Tom Ford once said* that the key to being a “fashionable” person is consistency…and if that is the case then I know for a fact that I consistently dress like a) a homeless person B) a disco queen or c) a school marm…does that make me fashionable?

I mean, yes I prefer loose flowy tops and dresses aka “teen pretgo tops and dresses” and if not that then ANYTHING bedazzled or jewel toned and if not that I prefer insanely structured clothes with pinstripes, and French cuffs and starchy collars and cardigans…I can’t help it. But lately, I do feel like I really don’t know how to dress myself anymore and I really am stuck in a fashion rut that is worthy of one of those make me over shows where they give you 5 grand to shop and make “new” outfits.

Sigh, I could really go for 5 grand for clothes right now actually…I would buy a shadow striped suit with both pants and skirt option probs from Boss since their cuts fit me alright and then a Thomas Pink slim cut French cuff button down in a jewel tone color, ballet flats from ‘Gamo and then maybe a cardigan from target…and that is all that budget would allow for but I do think those are some great finds. DOH, see consistency!

Anyhoo, so where am I going with this? OH YES! So yesterday when I was reading life-a-roni’s blog, R’s recent blog entry “characters that inspire my fashion sense” and I thought to myself “myself you should make your own post” So here we go the top five celebrities and/or movie/tv show characters that inspire me:

1. Vera Prescott in The Secret to My Success
   
   I really don’t know if it is so much the outfits or her overall cougar lifestyle that I love so much but this woman is amazing and ever since a child I thought to myself: this is the kinda lady we should be (a pervy fit old rich woman FTW). I mean the shoulder pads, the heavy eye shadow and brows, the uber curly hair, the house in the Hamptons…I mean, what is not to love? Nothing if you ask me.
   
   
2. Pavarotti and Neil Diamond
   
   SERIOUSLY!!! Cat suits and sequins and capes, oh my! SIGN ME UP! In the words of Rachel Zoe “loves me some sequins” and yes Rachel I loves me some too.
   
   
3. Veronica Palmer in Better off Ted**
   
   I mean, really! She has the whole power executive look down pat***. From the hair, the shoes, the suits, it just all exudes power and that is something I attain to. Unfortch, I just look like a little wrapped sausage in my too tight suit and shirt because I am a stage one chunkler right now but that is beside the point. See that 5 grand in makeover shopping money would certainly go handy now, just sayin.
   
   
4. The Olsen Twins
   
   Take a good look at the picture above. Did you take a good look? Okay, so if you see someone wandering the streets of San Francisco who looks like this but is, oh say 1,000 lbs heavier, please make sure to say hi because it is me. I don’t know what it is about this look that appeals to me, maybe the lack of effort except for the shoes and bags…anyone who knows me can tell you that I overall lack effort 80% of the time unless it comes to shoes and bags…and food but that is where I trump the olsens if you ask me.
   
   
5. Miranda in The Devil Wears Prada
   
   Oh, one day Gravy Train one day. This woman is elegance personified, she always looks perfectly put together, her clothes are classy with an edge…and CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE SHOES AND HAND BAGS?!?! Oh Em Gee indeed.
   
   
6. The Red Heather in Heathers****
   
   I love love love love love the preppy look, like beyond love. And the Red Heather was all this and more. I mean the penny loafers, pleated skirts, cardigans, hellz to the yes.

This post is dedicated to corn nuts

* I think I am totally making that up by the way, but I know it was a famous fashion designer so I think it was Tom Ford because dude is always wearing the same shiz.

** honestly is this show canceled? I mean it was totally brilliant and if that is the case it would make me uber sad

***Is this how you say this? I am soooooo not good with sayings and for many years ran around saying getting your bunnies in a row

****True story: Vicky B, Pistol and I had matching Bass penny loafers in high school that we put dimes in because we thought pennies were lame.

Hello, Is It Me Your Looking For?

Yes kiddies, it is your old Auntie Gravy Train here and I think I am ready to bust a Jay-Z and come out of retirement for the umpteenth time.

I know it has been way to long and I am not sure how long I can keep this up, but I think it is time I return center stage for a final curtain call until my next curtain call on this thing we call life, love, happiness and to much booze.

Onward through the haze my friends: whose coming with me?

XOXO,
Gravy Train

This post is dedicated to Posh, Pistol and D...whoes daily blogging musings have kept me entertained enough to be jelly.