Playing dress-up is one of the best parts of my day, but it also turns me into an agent of chaos, turning over my entire apartment trying to find whichever tank top or bra that I seem to have misplaced that is obviously is crucial to my outfit.

I am at peace with the fact that my bedroom will always have clothes that didn’t make the cut strewn about on the floor, my home forever in a dilapidated and disorderly state. And while I am also accepting that I will always be late to wherever I am heading because I had to try on ten different variations of a sundress paired with ballet flats, what I cannot accept is my shopping addiction and the fact that I am unable to stop myself from pressing the eBay “offer” button on things that I DO. NOT. NEED.

If you have visited my apartment and seen my brandy underpants on the floor, I do sincerely apologize.

The rumors are true - all I do when I am home is sit on my bed in my underpants and talk about you. Yes, my friends and I have come to conclusions based on a lot of misguided information sourced from your Instagram. Yes, another conclusion is that you are obsessed with me simply based on behavior from only 1 or 2 dates. Yes, I am skimming through an article that I found about you from 2019 as we speak and I think you are awesome. No wait - I think that you are awful.

Your zodiac sign means everything and yet nothing to me at the same time. Yes, I am in love with you, but give it two weeks and I will most likely just move on!

I am locking myself up. I am throwing out the key. Actually… Everything that happened last night never existed and it will all just become a distant memory.

Thank you for not judging me when I decided to sing ‘All Too Well’ 10 minute version at karaoke and Tallulah and I hogged up the mic and decided to sing it a second time even louder and more off key. While your opinion of my actions from last night means nothing to me, just know that I will judge myself harder than anyone else. You want to know what my punishment will be? I will watch Severance all weekend and wonder why the characters are never doing actually their jobs and I will go to sleep at 10pm every single night for a week straight. You want to know what is even worse? I will never learn my lesson and I will be back where I started, drinking back-to-back margaritas and begging to sing another Taylor Swift song at karaoke.

A grating headache and flashbacks of the night prior is enough to have me handcuff myself. While I do love to punish myself over the silliest of misdemeanors, life is too short to live in self deprecation. It is healthy to let myself retreat, but nothing is better than returning to the same old mischievous activities feeling refreshed and hungry for more fun.

I am writing today’s journal entry in my cluttered cubicle, heavily avoiding a list of to-dos that I simply cannot hack away at.

Despite a night spent knocking back martinis and gnawing into a soggy burger at JG Melon, I am relieved to say that I feel absolutely fine. No amount of salt consumption could ever ruin my day when it is 72 degrees and sunny mid-April.

A spontaneous dinner at prime bar seats and endlessly chatting with the bartender is far superior than a seated dinner reservation planned weeks in advance. I could tell you more about my night, filled with giggles and secret sharing, but this honestly sounds like most of my nights. Today instead, this diary entry will share with you some of my favorite moments spent with friends new and old:

1. Funny Bar

   1. I have been a little too much these past few weeks, but it is hard not to post up at a table with crayons all night. It is even harder there because (much like a casino) you never seem to know the time in there. My life has been blessed with the occasional free Cosmo, and even more blessed with Britt’s Calligraphy Club once a month. She really is a great teacher, and maybe my upcoming journal entries will be filled with elaborate medieval text from now on.

2. PJ Clarke’s

   1. I have no clue why I would ever suggest to meet a friend there when I was already wearing a white oxford shirt, navy vest, and navy tie. I, of course, immediately brought it up to the staff once I sat at the bar. I, unfortunately, barely got a chuckle in response from the bartender.

3. Odeon

   1. Don’t even get me started…

4. Upstairs Bar

   1. Five lychee martinis, questionable pork dumplings, and screeching “Baby” by Justin Bieber into a microphone. If you have never experienced Sandi’s cover of “Lucky” by Britney Spears, your life is unfortunately missing something spectacular and you need to fix this right this second.

5. Lucien

   1. A Sunday afternoon is best spent with Kay at the bar, watching her refill jars of olives and wedge limes in preparation for the evening. With Jess at my side and working on doodles of the two of them (some of my favorite subjects for crayon portraits), we were graciously offered caviar bumps from a favorite regular of theirs. I can be a demon when it comes to caviar, and I am now jittery just thinking about those briny licks on the back of my palm.

There are plenty more anecdotes I could share of hours spent with a friend (or two, or three, or six!) hovering over dirty drinks and salty snacks, laughing like preteens at the mall for the first time without adult supervision. I can tell you all that you want to know about where to find the funniest bartenders, the most flirtatious patrons, and the best spot for buffalo wings, but I think you will have to befriend me first.

Cheers to new friends!

My birthday this past February was on an especially frigid and gray Wednesday, but it felt like a sunny spring day because I decided to spend the afternoon skipping around in Chinatown with a hundred bucks burning in my back pocket on the hunt for the perfect knock-off bag.

With Athena by my side as an expert haggler, the adrenaline rush of a good deal was an added bonus to scoring a classic quilted double flap Chanel fake in black that looks real enough no one would ever bother to even ask.

Since taking the plunge I have been feeling extra thirsty to shop endlessly, as if I should reward myself for beating the expensive system of luxury goods. Nothing can stop the urge to sit on my couch and scroll endlessly on my phone, making lowball offers that I seem to always win. I have also been blessed with some unexpected good luck each day, from free caviar at lunch to finding dollar bills on the street. Something has me thinking that maybe this “Chanal Street” bag is my new good luck charm?

Maybe luck comes from not caring at all, and I feel like I am at my luckiest when I negligently swing around my gaudy black handbag. I am not concerned with auspicious eyes questioning the authenticity of my silly handbag because nothing phases the lucky girl.

I am now disappointed in myself for ever feeling haughty superiority over those sporting fakes and am honestly eager to get myself back on the street and see what other goodies are being hawked on Canal. I have noticed a few Fendi Baguettes on the street which I wouldn’t hate to carelessly swing over my shoulder.

I am not a writer, but I am a journal-er. I am not sure how often the average person journals, but this year I have been blessed with the irresistible urge to do so every single day.

Journaling used to be a practice I only reserved for times of heartbreak or conflict but after buying a $50 hardcover notebook from Pillow Cats in the East Village, I cannot keep my pen away from scribbling my every thought.

I now find myself drowning in journals. I keep a journal by my bed to speak to an imaginary reader on a daily basis. I keep a pocket-sized moleskin in my purse at all times, in case the itch for a diary entry comes to me at a hotel bar or on a park bench. I have junk journals, spiral notebooks filled with aspirational collages, sketch books, each a journal in their own right and each a reflection of the hunger that I have to express myself.

I hope you enjoy these doodles illustrating my messiest moments. While my true diary entries will forever be kept a secret, my life feels like a fairytale and deserves to be exhibited with the same respect and I am pleased to spotlight my favorite moments in life with you.

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