Time is Money, baby

I was thinking about some clichés that my parents and friends have said to me throughout the years, you know, to back up whatever point they are trying to make at the time...

have you ever noticed that people always contradict themselves with those things?

"Don't judge a book by it's cover", "What you see is what you get."

Or sometimes they can all fit perfectly together....

One example that's been coming to mind lately with my current financial situation is:

-"Time is money"

and also

-"Time flies when you're having fun"

Mathematically speaking, If we know that (T)ime=(M)oney and (T) flies with you're having fun then that must mean "money flies when your having fun."

O.K., now that I sound like a 7th grade pre-algebra teacher, do we agree with this equation?

From my present situation I would have to say I do. I've having the time of my life

-wait, does that mean money of my life?-

But I'm also spending more money than I ever have without making a single dime. So in this case, I think my hypothesis is proving itself true.

Keeping with my previous theory- Time=Money

"Money doesn't grow on trees"

"What do you think I'm made of money?"

These, yes, are weaker examples, but I'm building a small case from the ground up here, k?

I can't help, but to picture my father saying both of these, so I'm just going with that.

No, dad, you're right. Money doesn't grow on trees, neither does time. And if you're made of anything- or should I say full of (anything)- it sure isn't money.

That was a lame lame, but I'm searching for more puzzle- piece clichés to solidify my point-

but honestly, I'm not even sure if I even have one.

Would you pay to read this?

Ok, probably not. But what about a more noteworthy Web site? One you rely on daily to bring you up-to-date breaking news and quick coverage?

Lionel Barber, editor of the Financial Times, believes that most news sites willl be charging readers to view online content within the next year. Rupert Murdoch adds that the free newspapers sites are a "flawed business model."

If the FINANCIAL TIMES thinks it's time to start charging, you better believe other news publications will be quick to follow. The Recession again rears its ugly head.

The New York Times is also predicted to begin charging for online content in the next three to four weeks. Eeek! Check out the article. What do YOU think?

He's just THAT into his fans

So tonight, I went out with my teacher. But when I say out, I don't mean it how most people do. I went to what I thought was going to be a boring and educational evening (only the latter was true) and it proved to be one of the coolest nights I've had so far in New York.

We went to the Tara Subkoff Art Benefit on Grand St. in Soho. She is a very talented fashion designer in the city who has a brain tumor. So sad :(. So they held this silent auction with three different artist's work and tons of extremely expensive dresses and gowns designed by Tara herself.

I got there about 30 minutes before my teacher so I just wondered in, trying to pretend I belonged. Regrettably I didn't have a chance to go home and change from my work clothes. I knew I shouldn't have thought for a second that these stupid Wal-mart boots could pass for trendy! I bought them last October for a cowgirl halloween costume that I threw together at the last minute. I should have known they would come back to haunt me. With all the beautiful art and extravagant gowns in the room, I still felt like everyone there was staring at my $17.95 brown scrunched boots. I will never again trick myself into thinking that something

from Wal-mart is "cute and so cheap"

The first person I noticed in the over-crowded, blindingly-white dentist office looking room was Kevin Connolly-or better known as E from Entourage. I always told myself that I would NEVER ask a celebrity for a photo or act like a silly fan or anything like that. But I knew I had to because Chase is obsessed with the show. He and his friends literally sit around like girls and have "watch parties" when the show is on. When girls do this for Sex and the City or The Bachelorette they made fun of....tell me why that is!?

Anyway, I built up the courage and kindly told him my situation. He was SO nice and took a picture with me. Check it out above right.

Next I went to this MAC party on the Chelsea Pier- it was on 11th Ave. and W26th St. I know this because my teacher- and wing woman for the night- had written down the wrong address and we spent a good 30 minutes walking around

aimlessly.

Didn't see any celebrities there, but did see some MAC models and tons of brilliant art work by this artist (can't remember his name!!) who was showing his interpretation of their new fall makeup line. It was beautiful- check out the pics.

I thoroughly enjoyed the free drinks and food. Although I didn't eat any of the appetizers, I thought it was quirky and brilliant that they had glass bottles of coke and spritewith gourmet hot dogs being served on elaborate silver treys. The sexy guys in skin tight shirts serving them were also nice to look at. I didn't eat though, because everyone there was a walking skeleton and I felt way fat compared to them. Too bad they didn't have swag bags or any cool samples or freebies. I would have been in heaven. I downed two glasses of blush wine, a bottle of Pellegrino and a hand full of cashews (not because I was hungry, but nerves) and made my way home. And here I sit, bragging to everyone (O.K. no one reads my blog, but hey, it's out there) in cyber space. Now time for bed.

John comes tomorrow! You don't know what that means yet, but you soon will. Night!

XOXO

-A

Sometimes I think I'M Crazy...

And then I come across something like this....

Apparently Hugh Hefner is being sued by the self-proclaimed reincarnation of Venus and "the biggest hat in the world" Sheri Allred to the tune of $3 billion. Allred claims Hefner takes part in a Los Angeles Pedophile organization and "has been after here since she was a baby" hiding under her bed when she was five hears old to "molest her."

This lady is bat shit crazy- read her testimony. Very entertaining and at times confusing, but definitely worth it (photo: www.askmen.com)


Do yourself a favor and picture Hefner's face when being subpoenaed! Let's see if this one holds up in court!


Enjoy

-A

Things about New York

-The "Don't Walk" sign is merely for show.


- Going out "for a drink" can result in spending the equivalent to one months alloted food budget.


-Cab drivers are smarter than you think! They prey on those who don't know manhattan and take the longest and most congested route possible to up the meter.


-If you have motion sickness, don't take a cab.


-That smell? The bums.

-2 is the new 4 and 6 is the new 10. I'm fat here.

-NO one has blonde hair. I mean NO ONE.


-Unlike Missouri, all the hottest guys are GAY.


-If you see a person the sidewalk approaching you with a clipboard- RUN because they will trick you by asking you questions that are impossible for any human being to say no to (i.e. do want to help starving children? Do you like clean air? Do you want to do your part to save the eviroment?). After a 20 minute spiel about how their organization is going to change the world, but only with YOUR help, they ask you for a "donation" -They recommend $44.00- or, ya know, just your checking account number.


-The yellow ones really don't stop.

Hardly Working

Today is just like pretty much every other day.

I woke up at like 8:40 showered, checked email

...nothing much, but eight new emails from all the fashion listserves my bosses made me subscribe to for "research purposes." Don't really see the point since I delete them immediately. Or sometimes I tell myself I will actually read and observe them later, so I let them stew in my inbox for at least three days before inevitably deleting them anyway.

On to facebook, Megan put up a photo album from when she came to my graduation. I peruse the pictures while tagging the ones I look good in (about 40%). I logout as I realize, as I've done so many times before, that I look way better blonde. Time

to get ready.

I look in the mirror at my mousy "natural" brownish hair color, as I think of how much I'm hating my hair right now. I put on my everyday make up: Bare Minerals in fair, some Two- Faced bronzer from sephora and MAC mascara in Midnight. I realize this is as good as it's going to get for me today and I pick out a pair of dark blue J brand Skinny Jeans and an H&M carmel colored top. My outfit is kind of lame, but definitely safe to wear to work, especially with my new Brozek Aldo wedges I just got for $80 on fifth ave that I am totally obsessed with right now. The souls of these shoes could be made of shards of broken glass and I would still don them proudly.

I walk to Dunkin Donuts, which is conveniently located about two minutes from my lower east side apartment to grab my morning usual: an everything bagel with chive cream cheese and a medium iced light latte with skim milk and no sugar. Ah heaven. Then I strut to the subway reminding myself how much I love these shoes, despite the immense pain they cause me.

As I enter the 1st avenue entrance to the L train I debate tossing my bagel in the trash due to the ever-present smell of burnt hair and vomit that seeps from the subway. SERIOUSLY, what can possible create that smell? I look down to sell a homeless man that more resembles a wombat than an actual human. He is eating a newspaper. I begin to understand the smell.

On a normal day I don't wait longer than five minutes for the train, but since I am running behind today, something will clearly happen to delay the train-thus making me even more late than I already am. After waiting for 15 minutes and watching two brooklyn bound trains come and go, the 8th avenue train finally comes- obviously filled to maximum capacity. Perfect. I love standing intimately close groups of angry rushed strangers. As the door opens there is absolutely no space for even one more tiny person. Eight of us impatient commuters file in, making everyone nice and cozy comfy.

There isn't even a pole to hold on to at this point, so I raise my palm to the ceiling to prevent falling into the bald guy behind me upon departure. This is not so much because I'm polite, but more so because it looks like he's really looking forward to that. Gross.

Walking out of the subway towards 111 8th avenue is one of the best parts of my day. As I leave the disgusting underground chamber of death I approach this mirage-like view of the buildings, the gold accents of my building glow brilliantly in the morning sun. It is at this moment, everyday, that I put my morning gripes behind me and realize just how lucky I am to be here.

-A

Disclaimer

I used to have a blog, but somewhere between working, applying for internships, jobs, boyfriend, friends, and watching copious amounts of reality TV I lost her.

This is my attempt to revive her and get the metaphorical ball rolling on a new baby blog, so today 7-7-09, Meredith Lane is born.

I always shied away from blogging because I didn't want to be one of ranting blogging bitches or have my changing moods be misconstrued as hypocritical. When you're writing all your thoughts and opinions down hypocrisy becomes more apparent- and you're more likely to sound like a whiney brat.

So, with that said, I felt the need to put a disclaimer on my first baby blog post: The thoughts and views expressed by this blogger are subject to change drastically on a daily basis. I'm not a brat or a bitch, but I am a woman and I do what I want. However, I do like the sign more than my own warning.

Deal with it. Will post later.

-A