As you may know this past month I took the Kim Kardashian-West Selfie challenge by recreating a new Kim K selfie every day. As a lover of selfies of course I had to pay homage to the Queen of selfies herself. While it was difficult trying to reach Kim’s level of flawlessness, KIMmay was a great experience. Kim has so many iconic selfies it was hard to narrow them down to 31. Obviously there was one specific selfie I just had to recreate. Of course I’m talking about Kim’s “nude” selfie.
Sorry to my devoted readers for my abrupt absence for the past month. I was taking a break from the blog scene to focus on school and work, however much like Jesus rising from the tomb, I am back with more crazy stories and gossip. My most recent adventure was a Taylor Swift dance party I attended over the weekend. If you’ve read my previous posts you know I am a big T-Swift fan.
Lately there’s been a trend in Toronto for artist themed parties. In the past there have been Beyoncé, Justin Bieber, and Justin Timberlake themed dance parties. It’s basically a party where they predominately play that certain artist and any other singers related to them. So this past weekend MRG events had the brilliant idea of hosting a Taylor Swift themed party called Never Grow Up at Adelaide Hall. As an avid Swiftie I was like “hells yeah” I’m down to spend a night dancing to my girl Tay Tay, especially with presale tickets only being $5. $5 is a small price to pay for shaking it off to Taylor Swift.
I’ve been told that I’m a superficial person, and that I value physical looks and appearances above personality. And while I’d like to protest such accusations I will admit that I can be shallow and superficial at times. I believe looks are important and I am often attracted to those with adonis bodies and perfect hair. Does this make me a horrible person? Probably. So imagine my surprise when I found out I had a rather large wart on my perfect, beautiful face? I was devastated.
Thanksgiving has always been one of my favourite holidays. It’s a day to take a break from your no-carb diet and binge eat turkey drenched with gravy and mountains of buttery mashed potatoes. Sure hanging with my family can be a little exhausting. But as long as my plate has turkey and my wine glass is full I can tolerate six hours of my slightly racist uncle and obnoxious younger cousins. According to Wikipedia Thanksgiving is a day “which celebrates the harvest and other blessings of the past year.” Now that I’m sufficiently stuff from my two Thanksgiving meals, and working on a hefty piece of pumpkin pie, I’ve had time to ponder what I’m thankful for this year. This past year has given me a lot of things to be thankful for.
Visiting New York City has always been a dream of mine. I’ve always thought of it as a glamorous metropolis filled with chic cosmopolitan movers and shakers who sip martinis at 1Oak on Saturdays and brunch on Sundays at The Plaza. A city with residents who work hard during the week and weekend in the Hamptons. New York always seemed like a city where anything could happen. I mean Taylor Swift wrote a whole song about it. It’s the city where Carrie Bradshaw found shoes and love, Blair and Serena ruled, and Audrey Hepburn ate breakfast.
For the past 23 years there’s been nothing I wanted more than having a boyfriend. I know how pathetic that sounds; me pining over some imaginary perfect guy. But I am a romantic at heart. I may be cynical at times but I believe in heart-racing, palm sweating, weak-in-the-knees love. I blame Nicholas Sparks and Disney movies.
However, I have come to the realization that my quest for a boyfriend is kind of pointless. I’ve been focusing all this energy and time trying to find a nice guy to date but I should be focusing on other things. This summer I’ve realized that more than anything I want more friends. Now don’t get it twisted I’m not some friendless loser who stays home all day playing online video games. I have friends; pretty great friends. But like Ariel in my favorite movie The Little Mermaid, I want more. To be more specific I want more gay friends.
Music festivals have been around for years but recently gained popularity in the past few years. Every year hundreds of celebrities flock to California’s Coachella festival. While Montreal hosts its Osheaga music festival every August. Now usually music festivals aren’t really my thing. I prefer more mainstream music, while music festivals tend to feature more indie and hipster bands. Sure they’ll be a couple bands I’ll know but no one I absolutely adore. But like everything else I do, I decided to venture out of my comfort zone for the Instagram photos.
Toronto recently hosted its first WayHome music festival. Unlike other music festivals I’ve been to in the past this one actually requires you to camp at the festival. Like sleep in a tent, poop in a port-a-potty, brush your teeth with a water bottle, kind of camping. Now while I despised the bathroom situation and cell service was horrific, I actually had an amazing weekend. Music festivals have such a chill vibe. It’s basically just a giant field of chill people drinking, smoking, and having a good time. I went with a couple of my good friends and had an amazing time. Day drinking, dancing like a fool, tanning, and rocking out to Hozier were just some of the shenanigans I got up to this weekend. But it wasn’t all breakfast sangria and burritos. This being my first legit music festival there was a dose of drama. So here’s my official guide to surviving a music festival.