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Bonjour! I’m Erin.
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Category Archives: random
Remember this post from last week? Here’s what I came up with, after a few iterations:
You can download a printable 8×10″ version of it here, in case you need a little encouragement.
Happy doing, kiddos.
March 3, 2016 / random /
1. This delightfully (intentionally) retro music video from Stromae:
If you can watch this video and not end up charmed and dancing happily in your seat, I pity you. Filmed on an old VHS-loaded camcorder in Cape Verde, set in an indeterminate decade, at what appears to be an afternoon cocktail party, the camera follows (changing hands and perspectives!) everyone from children to the waitstaff to the cooks taking smoke breaks and people on the dance floor. Everyone except for Stromae himself. It is a wonderfully conceived and smartly executed concept for a music video, and it leaves me beaming every time I watch it.
2. And, on a related note, Stromae’s new-to-me clothing capsule collection:
The quirkiness cannot be overstated. I only lament that the line is not available in the states, and that the socks (adorable!) are €17.
3. Paranoid Parrot!
There was a time a few years ago when I had one of these Paranoid Parrot memes taped to my monitor at work: “Make one tiny mistake at work, assume I’m getting fired.” It sort of became my “thing” in the office, how paranoid I was about getting fired; I interpreted any conversation that occurred behind closed doors or in hushed tones as one of my impending dismissal. Thankfully, I got past it (likely when my boss held my job for me while I took a two month hiatus in Paris), until this past Tuesday, when I couldn’t immediately log into our company SharePoint site. I’d sloppily mistyped my password, but for a brief moment, I had a full-on Paranoid Parrot melt down. SO THIS IS HOW THEY FIRE ME. Some of them are hilariously accurate!
4. This SNL skit from last weekend that I’ve been laughing about ever since:
SNL has been so hit or miss the past few years (dare I say decades?), and hit its peak for me during the Andy Samberg era. I haven’t even watched the show for a few years, mostly because staying awake until 11:30 (even on a Saturday!) is outside the scope of my abilities, but I happily caught last week’s episode and, in particular, this sketch. It seems like an obvious “Shawshank Redemption” spoof, until you get to the reason he’s in jail. “One man.” Seriously, try not to laugh.
5. Finally joining the ranks of women who swear by eyelash curlers:
I bought an eyelash curler on sale at Sephora, and ladies, I am hooked. I’m not exactly a “makeup girl”; yes, I wear mascara and blush, but I can’t blend eyeshadow or figure out airbrush foundation, and in general, my makeup routine takes about three minutes. The idea of adding tools and gadgets to my makeup bag seemed foreign and unnecessary. And then one of my best friends got married and as we were getting ready that morning, her sister-in-law kept espousing the virtues of what, truthfully, looks like a modern day torture device. I’m supposed to put that thing near my eye? But damn if it doesn’t make a noticeable difference, especially in the morning, when I could use a little oomph to fight off the sleep still lingering in my face.
A little over a year and a half ago, I posted a few Paris Street Fashion photos that included this photograph of a striking young French woman:
The response in the comments of that post were overwhelmingly flattering, as all of you thought there was some resemblance between her and I. Now, I’m as vain as the next person, but even I’m not quite so self-adoring as to think I compare remotely with how gorgeous this mystery girl is. And she is, truly. I can’t tell you the wonders those comments did for my ego (even though lolz, no. you guys are blind)! I’d pinned her photo all that time ago, but her face has been burned into my memory ever since because of how breathtakingly beautiful she was.
A few days ago, the mystery was solved and I finally figured out who she is. Her name is Marine Vacth, and she’s a Parisian actress and model. I found a photo of her while googling “French girl hair” for my (long overdue) haircut Wednesday evening, and realized she looked familiar. Sure enough, when I compared it against the original photo I’d pinned, it was unmistakably her, only she’s somehow gotten prettier. Behold, proof:
Who are you crushing on these days (guy or girl)? Or animal. Truth be told, my biggest crush might still be Grumpy Cat.
For your daily dose of distraction and giggles: a quiz to determine whether a passage is by Hemingway or from a children’s book, and one to test your art knowledge. I got 11/15 on the Hemingway one and a solid 25/25 on the art quiz. Nailed it.
October 1, 2014 / random /
File this under “Happiest Thing Ever,” cross-filed under, “Laughed So Hard I Cried.”
You guys. I need to introduce you to Doctor Pug, perhaps the best fake twitter account to come into fruition ever. Wait, I’m lying. It is THE BEST twitter account and it’s 100% real, run by a pug who happens to be a doctor. Obviously.
I had a pug for a few years, and he was the most magnificently chubby and lazy dog to ever walk to face of the earth. He was only interested in food and naps. His name was Potato, and I’m pretty sure he went to med school in the past few years and is now doling out
hilarious sorry, totally serious medical advice. Such as:
Please go follow him on twitter to make your days infinitely better. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go burp a lil burp, put on some pants, and install a doggie door for Dr. Pug.
Even though this season of Mad Men was pretty disappointing for me (am I in the minority on this one? I didn’t even bother to watch the finale, so maybe I’m wrong), I still can’t get over how elegantly everyone used to dress only 40 years ago. Women in beautiful sheath dresses and gloves, men in hats. I’m not saying I’m chic enough to pull that classic, vintage look off successfully (I’m no Joan Harris, that’s for sure), but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to. Enter Shabby Apple.
Shabby Apple is an online dress boutique that specializes in vintage and retro dresses. The styles are all perfectly Mad Men approved. You can browse their incredible selection of vintage dresses here. And today, they’re graciously offering one lucky reader a $50 gift card to spend on anything they’d like! Personally, I’d go with this “Blighty” polka dot number or this gorgeous lace dress, appropriately named, “With This Ring.”
+ Leave a comment below telling me which pieces from their collection like you the most
+ Make sure to use a valid email address when commenting so I can get in touch with the winner (you don’t have to have a blog to win!)
The giveaway will run until July 18th at midnight, and a winner will be announced Friday July 19th! Good luck and happy shopping!
Today is going to be a hectic day (my office is moving to a new building and instead of doing it over a weekend like a normal company, they’re kicking us all out today at noon and completing the move tomorrow) and I have a big post planned for tomorrow, so I don’t have anything really planned for today. You’ll have to forgive my brevity, but I’ll see you all back here Friday.
In the meantime, THIS HAPPENED:
April 4, 2013 / random /
If you’ve ever worked in a traditional office setting (cubicles, harsh lighting, soul-crushing monotony) then you know the saving grace to the otherwise dull environment are funny work emails exchanged between coworkers, especially during short weeks like this one. Every so often, the internet provides something so wondrous and inexplicable that it must be shared with everyone who sits around you. Herbie, whose birthday it was yesterday, actually gave us the best present of all, in the form of this video. Within 10 minutes it had been forwarded to everyone in the office. I had tears rolling down my face. If you heard riotous laughter followed by a giant ker-SPLAT, that was my entire office losing their shit followed by our collective productivity falling off a cliff.
The show is called “Killer Karaoke” and is everything the name implies. What follows is…well, you just have to watch it. Grab some tissues, brace your ribcage, and enjoy.
I keep thinking that it will get less funny the more times I watch it, but it doesn’t! Her pure and unadulterated abject terror and her insistence to keep singing even as she is screaming bloody murder…it’s a joy to watch. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood and watch that video. Also this one, of a baby Red Panda being surprised. You know, in case you’ve ever wanted to know how I react when someone startles me. This one came courtesy of my mom:
This post had no point, other than laughter is good for you.
November 21, 2012 / random /
I should preface this by saying this post is what happens after you sit on the sofa too long, scouring the internet for content, and aided by perhaps more gin than is normally acceptable for a Wednesday night by yourself. I’ll also say that this is the sequel to the “Gary Oldman Eating Macarons” wonderfulness that occurred on Twitter (here and here) when I realized that there are no available photographs of my supreme celebrity man crush eating macarons on the internet. Go to Google right now and search “Gary Oldman eating macarons.” I’m the first SIX RESULTS. I’m so proud!
Anyway, last night I realized there were no photographs of Gary Oldman in Paris. You know, my two favorite things in life. So I decided to rectify that situation the best way I know how: Photoshop. This whole thing took me 20 minutes from start to finish, lest you think I spent hours cropping him out of pictures and pasting him onto Parisian backdrops. My Photoshop skillz are apparently un-addled by things like “gin” or “sanity.”
ENJOY. Also, I’m sorry.
Oh, Gary Oldman, you shouldn’t have! Bringing me flowers in Paris. Vous êtes un gentleman!
Sometimes in Paris, Gary Oldman stands moodily in the doorway of his bedroom. Il est tres pensif.
He looks so natural, non? Il n’est pas concerned with the midget people around him.
Quoi? You don’t sit outside at a Parisian cafe in the rain in a tuxedo? Vous n’avez pas vécu!
Imagine walking into your building one day and seeing Gary Oldman just standing in the hall. Excusez-moi, monsieur.
If you had a window seat with a view of La Tour Eiffel, you would sit in it, too. Don’t judge him.
Sweet lord. I’m glad I at least entertain myself.
The other day I did some quick calculating (this is a lie; anything involving math takes me an hour) and figured out that Boyfriend has only been home 6 days since August 18th. Six! That leaves over 3 weeks when he was gone, which adds up to a lot of hours of bad reality television shows watched in an effort to distract myself. I know, I know, I could’ve been reading a book or something noble, but sometimes a girl needs to just zone out. If you figure I was soaking up 3 hours a day on the weekdays and 8 on the weekends (conservative estimates), what does that average out to? 5.5? Multiply that by x, where x equals the number of days Boyfriend was in India or Cincinnati or DC and you come up with OH MY GOD, MY BRAIN IS MELTING.
Not every reality show I indulged in was particularly terrible, but there is a certain level of, shall we say, grossness that comes with watching a scripted drama trying to pass itself off as reality in any number of staged situations. Such gems included Project Runway, Million Dollar Listing, Real Housewives (New York and New Jersey), etc. Halfway through The Best Three Weeks for My Cable Box, I started to notice something funny about some of the “characters” (because that’s essentially what they are); they reminded me of other people I’d seen before, and not just because I’d watched the same episodes multiple times already. Lots of the faces looked familiar, but I couldn’t place them.
It finally clicked for me when, in the middle of a marathon of Million Dollar Listing New York, a car commercial came on with a cameo appearance by Tom Brady. So that’s where I’d seen one of the brokers on the show before! He’s a dead-ringer for the Patriots quarterback, although a much crouch-ier version. My friend Hunter came up with that word, it’s a combination of creep and douche.
Uncanny, am I right? And then it’s like the floodgates to whatever bizarre part of my mind is responsible for recognizing faces opened up and I couldn’t watch anything without mentally comparing them to the visual rolodex in my head. Shit got weird for a while.
Near the end of Boyfriend’s hiatus from America, I got really into old MTV reruns of Real World/Road Rules Challenges. You know what I’m talking about, the good old days of MTV from the early 2000s where they would have a million different gauntlet-style battles, wherein a bunch of 20-somethings, aiming to stay relevant after their respective season of their other reality show had ended, lived in Island villas and competed in pointless battles of physical strength and there was lots of scheming and conniving to eliminate fellow teammates and lots and lots of hooking up. Too bad they don’t air repeats on tv anymore, but at least there’s Youtube. You know what’s on Youtube? EVERYTHING. Including Real World/Road Rules Battle of the Sexes from 2003, the show that introduced me to hot dudes with French accents by way of Antoine de Bouverie. I’m pretty sure he is what started the entire French Man obsession, all those years ago.
Thanks, buddy. Call me, maybe.
Another contestant was Tonya, of Real World fame, who I figured out looks just like one of the idiots from Teen Mom 2. It’s like a reality tv gold medal, trying to see which of these girls can out un-class the other. And before you get all judge-y on me, NO, I don’t watch Teen Mom. Even I have standards. Sidenote: you try finding a picture of a slutty former porn star-turned-Real World contestant with all her clothes on. And they say blogging isn’t hard work.
They could be past and future versions of each other. Don’t worry, 17 year old girl with twins, you will grow up and still be on MTV!
And then there’s another Real World contestant, Robin, who looks sort of like Scarlett Johansson. I said “sort of” because it’s not identical, and it’s harder to see it in photos than it is when she’s talking on screen.
Also, if Robin’s boobs get any farther apart they are going to end up in her armpits.
Like I said, I don’t always watch such inarguable garbage. Project Runway is actually a respectable show. It’s won Emmys! And the drama is always contained to things like “You stole my sewing machine!” not “You stole my man!” But occasionally, there is a contestant so ridiculous that the only comparison I can make is…well, here you go:
Aside from the fact that Kooan could barely speak English, he provided so much entertainment in the time he was on the show. Here, he is wearing a bright blue jumpsuit that he has tied around his waist. He’s the spitting image of a Sanrio cartoon.
If you made it through this entire post and a) didn’t roll your eyes and b) still want to associate with me, congratulations! I tried to scale it back; I have an entire post dedicated to America’s Next Top Model look-alikes that I’ve spared you from.