Skip Plans Ahead

I remember fondly when Lollapalooza drifted through town with hardly a mention on Q101. With a line-up that included Jane's Addiction and the Rollin's Band, a Jackopierce/DMB-loving high schooler like myself would never consider attending such an overtly anti-Aware manifestation of mass concert chaos.

But oh how things change in 10 years!

Now, I can think of no better reason to go back to the Windy City for the weekend (August 4th-6th) than to see the best line-up of bands I have ever beheld on one schedule at this year's Lollapalooza in Grant Park. It is pure concert heaven!

The gals and I have already decided to descend on Chicago for a weekend of music and my Mummy.

New York Follow-up

The Spots Skip Hits; Part II

And the fun never ends!

*The Knitting Factory; the most gloriously depressing concert ever with The Damnwells and Augustana.
*Sheraton Chelsea; who needs the uppity Soho Grand? This is my new, cheap home away from home and I didn't even have to move.
*City Bakery; one morning (or lunch-time) I will get sick of this place, but not yet...
*MZ Wallace
*Calypso
*One Little West 12th; wow, that's a lot of meat.
*AMC Theatre; Broadway and 19th. Just don't try to confuse the staff by ordering something other than popcorn and soda.
*Le Pain Quotidien
*Balthazar
*Whole Foods; again, I'm now stalking Bradley Cooper nightly.
*Spring Street Natural; one of my New York favorites, I don't care what anyone says.
*Mesa Grill; I heart Bobby Flay. A lot.

Skip's Sloaney

By now, most readers know that I am an Anglophile (I have a lot of self-love). Their inclinations towards frustrating inefficiency, tawdry celebs and unattractive newscasters make the English just so cuddly and endearing. I can't help it. And, now you too can vicariously participate in the haughty culture of the British elite (or avidly follow their every move which is just as English) with your very own 'Sloane Ranger' name!

Thanks to my pal, Tara Wintour/Fern Amanda-Hillier, I am re-christened Ruby Arabella-Harding (all Sloaneys must have double-barrel last names).

At Sloaney Names.

The Spots Skip Hits; Part I

In an ill-disguised effort to make my fair readers jealous, I'm promising to keep my blog up-to-date as I skip about New York (for business and pleasure). The only problem is that due to my hectic itinerary (I'm very popular and important), I can only provide Zagat-like commentary on my travels rather than expound on each experience individually.

Don't worry though, the regularly-scheduled blog entries will return shortly.

*Bistro Les Amis; the best bread I have ever carb-loaded.
*HK; there is nothing like club music to wake you up in the morning.
*Hell's Kitchen Antique Market; I am reminded why 'I prefer new things.'
*Saks Fifth Avenue; gotta love 'the original.'
*Bloomie Nails
*Bergdorf's; also known as 'heaven.'
*Tabla; our waitress was 'in it to win it.'
*Libation; I am way, way too old for this.
*Chez Fabs; the hostess with the most-ess.
*Chelsea Market; Eleni's, Hale & Hearty Soup, French Oven, oh my!
*Murray's Bagels; the 'best bagels in New York.'
*Starbucks; and more Starbucks.
*Poleci
*Tracy Reese
*Diane Von Furstenberg; seriously, close the curtain, I'm naked in here!
*C.O. Bigelow
*Cosi
*Whole Foods; across from my hotel, which is very dangerous.

Until next time, over and out.

Skip's Scorn

Though I am determined to keep my blog as positive and happy-go-lucky as humanly possible, I'm forced to make a small exception and share my newly formed, bitter disdain for America West airlines (US Airways, whatever) with my impressionable readers...

It all began at check-in when my luggage weighed in 7 lbs. over regulation (stupid shoes) and the AW agent still charged me $50 despite my bestest puppy-dog eyes and pouting lips. This was a sign, there was nowhere to go but downhill. My (delayed) one-hour flight to Las Vegas (a pit-stop on my way to Ohio) ended up being two-hours of intense, gut-flipping turbulence (please recall my terror in the air) ultimately ending with an emergency landing in 'Ontario,' wherever that is, because it was too windy and we were running out of fuel. The person behind me ralphed on the rocky ride, the stewardess (that's right, there was one) had no idea what the next step was and the fine people of Ontario (still in California in case you were wondering) didn't know how to handle a commercial airliner seeing that it is actually a UPS hub....

Another two-hours and my Vegas virginity was finally broken as I landed at 1am, spent 45 minutes attempting to find a new flight, was finally reunited with my bag, arranged for a hotel (the ever-fabulous Amerisuites, where my friend Jon the night manager told me to 'take a deep breath and stop calling me') and fell asleep in my pool-side room (a term I use very loosely).

The fun didn't end with my sweet polyester-pillow dreams though. The next morning I waited in line to check-in for my new flight for 45 minutes only to be told that I was already checked-in and that my bag was still overweight (yes, thank you). Then I waited another 45 minutes in a glass tunnel because I was 'selected at random for a security screening.' Are you kidding me?!?! Do I look like a terrorist?!?! I was wearing a Burberry coat and pearls! I pleaded with Sam, the 85-year old security guard (don't mess with him), and again, the puppy-dog eyes and pouty lips did not work. Am I losing my touch? Gaaahhh!

24-hours and 21 minutes later I finally arrived in New York (Ohio, as a destination, was a casualty of my airline-agent rage at 1:22am).

Needless to say, I will never go to Las Vegas again and I will never again fly America West (US Airways, whatever).

Skip is a City Girl

On the eve of my latest trip to New York, I have discovered the perfect city wardrobe...it's just not in my closet and it's not exactly seasonally appropriate. But, how cute would I look?!?!

At Reyes Collection.

Skip Waxes Lyrical

Last night I had the singular pleasure of seeing Matt Pond PA in concert at Slim's. In spite of having to listen to the world's worst opening act in the history of music, Matthew Moon (no, really, the link is meant as a warning not a marketing opportunity), and the unfortunate last-minute cancellation of Youth Group's performance (due to inclement weather, which just makes Matt's perseverance all the more meaningful), I can't say anything bad about the concert. It was flawless.

Slim's is an ideal venue and on a blustery Sunday evening, the crowd was relatively manageable and thinly spread. And, of course, Matt Pond, both funny and warm, is impossibly talented. His voice glided forth with an effortless and perfectly polished pitch, articulate and heartfelt at the same time. It is as if he always speaks with such euphonious tones (and minimal head movement). Though his songs suffer from a bit of the sameness curse, his style is so unique and his lyrics so new that he is destined to be famous...and, for the record, he's mine.

Protect and Beautify

I've heard through the grapevine that the iPod Invisible Shield is not exactly user-friendly. Of course it covers your pod in a nifty, thin, clear plastic shell, but it requires water and creates air bubbles and blah blah blah. The entire process sounds a might complicated for a lazy lady like myself.

So what kind of alternative is there to the Invisible Shield but that doesn't look like a space suit for your Nano? The Moshi iGlaze; ultra-fine gloss, scratch-resistent, removable with no residue and zero air bubbles. Perfect. I'll take the matchy-matchy milk white.

PS- And who out there doesn't like saying 'Moshi?'

Skip Loves Hawkes

Surprisingly, I'm not much of a wine connoisseur. Though I pride myself on being a perfect snob (having an unwavering opinion on everything even those things I know nothing about), I just don't think I have the palate/patience to taste true wine talent.

I do know, however, that I love Hawkes Wine; the graphic label, the distinct logo, the buttery, yummy taste, the teapot museum... I can't get enough.

Skip Strikes Again

Seriously. Somebody stop me...my penchant for fanciful stationery is once again preventing my life from progressing.

In spite of my recent, very successful attempts at downsizing my posessions I hit a road-block when confronted with my curious and quaint collection of cards and letterhead. No matter how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to throw away the Easter cards, Bon Voyage letterpress notelets and French General sticker set (for embellishing my letters to penpals). Blank and in mint condition it somehow seems wrong to be throwing away so much potential! And who knows when I might want to send a 4th of July card, Pilgrim cards or forlorn letters to a lover on scented and monogrammed paper?!?!

I'm furious with myself. To make matters worse, I just pretend-spent my mock millions ($132 to be exact) on Crest and Tuppence stationery at 16 Sparrows.

I suppose the first step is admitting you have a problem.

Skip Has a Big Mouth

Really? Sometimes I ugly myself out.

Blogging Buddies

My incredibly brilliant and campy friend, Lauren (pictured right) has a blog. In fact, to give credit where it is due, were it not for Lauren's inspiration and my interminable opinions on every subject, I would not actually have a blog. (I know, I know, a near miss. Whew.)

In recent weeks, Lauren has been out-blogging me on quite a regular basis (likely because her life is way more fun and she, more funny, than I) and today she truly trumped me. She discovered a superb taping of 'The Fruitcake Lady;' an ancient, yet demure woman giving advice to lazy, middle-Americans on their asinine problems. It is pure entertainment.

Wonderful, wonderful, Lauren.

Aw, Shucks

This past weekend I had the most lovely pleasure of celebrating my friend Sean's birthday on Tomales Bay; shucking oysters, BBQ-ing and drinking some beers in the afternoon sun. Despite retching at the very thought of those foul, slimy masses of living tissue sliding down my throat (indeed the event was captured on film), it was a most glorious day. I was acccompanied by fabulous friends and the midday sun which make any afternoon perfect.

I recommend the outing to anyone in the market for the ideal weekend...just be sure to eat something 'solid' before you go and BYOB.

Skip Has No Secrets

Secrets are hard to keep. No matter how fervently you assure a confessor that 'the buck stops here' there will always be a part of you that aches with the gossipy instinct to relay the story to just one person. No matter how tight-lipped you may be, we have all relapsed on a promise (more than once), even you, my fair readers. But, the truly funny thing about secrets, is that there are whispers about ourselves that we would never let pass our lips. How odd that we can keep secrets but only if they are about ourselves?

There is now a place for you to let it all out, anonymously of course, and not risk your reputation for reticence nor your reputation in general. Just reading these takes the edge off...

At Post Secret.

Skip's Clothes are Reborn

Is there really a better heaven for my spacially-challenged clothes than to be resurrected as my pals' new pets? I think not.

It brings me happy delight.

Skip is Going to Faint

Seriously, I'm hyperventilating. I have to go to Walgreen's and get some brown paper bags to breathe slowly into otherwise I will pass out. In the meantime, look at this...

It's as if someone read my dreams and painted them into a perfect reality. First there is talk of a touch-screen iPod and now this! What is Apple trying to do to my sanity?!?!

Apple mobile phone.

Skip Drives a Hard Bargain

They didn't make the cut.

See, Mom. I told you I could get rid of stuff...

Pretty, Pretty

My family.

Go, Go Gadget Watch

Cool. Night vision.

Swiss Army Watch.

Skip Downsizes

In the spirit of minimalism and cost-cutting and in preparation for a move (see Take Back 2006), I have determined that everything I own will have to be extremely efficient, effective and streamlined...I'm all about product multi-tasking.

This obviously obligates me to acquire some new, key items. For example, rather than an alarm clock and stereo, I will dispose of both and replace them with the iHome i5 clock radio. Then, rather than earbuds for the gym and massive, noise-cancelling cans for the plane, I will simply have the 6i Isolaters.

Et, voila! Less stuff. Genius!

NB: This will all clearly require me to upgrade to the Nano, but it's all in the name of parsimony!

Before and After

This is my dearest friend in all the universe, Bunny (Thumper), and myself at ages 2 and 26.

My how time flies! Have you ever seen anything so adorable?

Skip Likes to Reminisce

Skip's a Fickle Friend

So, I think I might have cheated on Ben...with Mat Kearney.

Last night, Lauren and I (the pledge continues...next up; Stars, Thriving Ivory, Guster and Clap Your Hands) went to Slim's to see Mat, Cary Brothers and The Fray. There wasn't really any need to stay for The Fray as I was already smitten with Mat. Yes, he's a little short; but, his Corbett-esque voice, his rocky attempts at rap and his new piano piece about a couple leaving New Orleans were so endearing and slightly haunting that I'm compelled to make an exception.

His new CD is out April 4th.

I want to go too!

I have never been to Disneyworld (or the state of Florida for that matter), but after seeing the NFL players practicing the victorious catchphrase during Disney's Super Bowl commercial, I am convinced that I too need a vacation.

And, I think I may love Joey Porter now because of his riveting performance in the hot tub...just kidding (hi, Ben).

Watch it here.

Victory

Girls Just Want to Have Fun

Skip is a Nervous Wreck

This Sunday my boys (hi, Ben) are playing in Super Bowl XL (40) and I can hardly stand the anticipation! For the past week, I must have read or watched every commentary on the game, and with each new insight my heart starts racing with anxiousness and hope. I love it! The Steelers are favored to win, but as much as I want to pre-order my hat and t-shirt, I can't help but think that anything could happen! Eeeks!

As I have reached an emotional saturation point with regard to the outcome of the game (my nerves can't take anymore), I am moving on to researching the operational aspects of the Super Bowl to take my mind off of the actual game. I know, I'm crazy, but who knew that there were 90 miles of cable used for the cameras and microphones? 6 super slo-mo cameras and 29 mobile vehicles and 500 monitors in 'control trucks...?' Oh my!

Super Bowl XL stats.

Coldplay

Last night my gal pal Lauren and I met up with our (my new) friends Prav and Gap Dave who humbled us with their breadth of band proficiency (to such an extent that Lauren and I are lit with the motivational fire of 1,000 suns to out-discover these intrepid band crusaders) at The House of Shields for about an hour and then we all headed over to the Coldplay concert at the Oakland Arena.

Now, I am not normally a fan of the musical monstrosities that are performed at places like the Oakland Arena (I mean seriously, Aerosmith plays here), but the show was incredibly impressive. It was actually more of a songful spectacle complete with video projections, light displays and a fleet-footed Chris Martin who bounded around the stage like a buoyant cheerleader. I thought for more than a moment that we were all partaking in another Coldplay music video...and, if it weren't for the infectious energy, consummate setlist and crystalline voice of Chris Martin, I might have held it against them.

Rather, I've spent the evening cursing my technical ignorance because if only I could get the video footage off my fancy phone I might be able to really make you all appreciate my wonderful evening.

Skip's a Foul Mouth

An email I received today (a forward, if you must know) reminded me of how little I care for cuss words and their regular use by some (most) people today. I suppose it's not so much a matter of dislike as it is contempt. I simply think of swearing as a version of oratorical laziness that points to a deeper lack of intellect or, rather, grasp of the wonders of the English language. How very unimpressive it is! I would like to think of myself as being a little more refined and having some sense of decorum. What can I say, it's the elitist in me.

That is not to say of course, that there aren't moments when the use of such unbecoming language exactly articulates the feelings at the time, but I would hope that those moments are few and far between (unless of course you are plumber or prostitute whose job it is to talk dirty) for the majority of men and women.

For those of you out there who find these instances more frequent, perhaps you can turn that frown upside-down and put your verbal vulgarities to good use by participating in the Annual Swearing Festival at the Edinburgh Castle on February 18th.

Get it all out of your system. You might win a raffle prize.