• Mercedes Benstock


Finally there is a sun (shining) out in Manhattan. Although It’s always quite deceptive, as each and every morning it’s bitterly cold. Today was the day where everyone (except from the business men on Park avenue) decided to show case, their summer wardrobe. From Missoni dresses-flipflops-shortshort with short boots-I seemed to see it all within the short time frame that I was actually outside observing, and not inside learning.

I’ve also established that NOW more than ever, I need to start ditching the jeans and being more fashion savy and conscious on what I wear. After all, I style better outfits than I wear, and with color coordinated closets..their is just no excuse for that.

Hoping that this warm weather stays, I’ve finally started to re-organize my closets, donate some more clothes to charity, and done yoga/zumba to work on my bikini body…once.

So today I woke up to a swishy sound, and a numb arm. As it was 3.24 in the morning (still on British time!) I thought that my arm was giving up on me, and presumed the swishy sound was the blood trying to get to my arm (I was always bad at science).

That’s when i suddenly felt something fluffy, and realized that Barnby was laying on my head. Well almost on my head, but more on my pillow. It turned out that the swishy sound was Mr Barnby’s (not so small) stomach. Flabbergasted as to how he even got from his bed (on the floor) to my bed, and on top of my head, is just a Jonathan Creek type mystery to me.

I figured he was just trying to look after me, so instead of telling him off, I just moved to an additional pillow, and let Barnby lay horizontally on my first pillow. Quite a sight, and awakening indeed. I finally also ordered him a carrier bag, thats big enough to fit the big pudding in. His kind of like the teddy bear of shitz uhs, who can’t help it that his so popular big. But his heart is also big as he continues to make children and the elderly people around the neighborhood smile.

Ok enough with Barnby. In hindsight of my entire marketing class coming over Saturday in order to work on a term project, I discovered a frugal fashion student (aka lazy) way of vacuuming, without a vacuum, and with a lint brush. Ok it sounds very ridiculous (I know) but it actually works really well, especially if your trying to pick up tricky things without actually having to pick them up, or vacuum them up. Of course It’s a quick fix, but does do the trick for the time being.

On another note, I need an intervention. Not like the hoarders on TLC or the drug addict type ones, or the weird addiction people eating nail polish for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but more like a boy intervention. I guess we can say that it started in 7th grade. I had a crush on this one boy, who was a complete ass hole, but yet.. I liked him. I’m not exactly sure what it was, or if it was just the title of having a boyfriend in 7th grade that infatuated me. I met him at our Jr High School Dance, and while people slowly but surely disappeared from the “dance floor” and wandered the halls of our school (or at least that’s what my friends and I all did along with his friends and himself) before I knew it he was giving me a slobbery gross and utterly disgusting first kiss. Being a deer in headlights, we can safely say I did nothing in return. In fact, at that very moment I wanted to just run away. Cinderella and misleading movies had made me believe that something special would come from your first kiss. Like a spark or something. Well, needless to say I was wrong, very wrong. After the disgusting kiss he asked me to be his girlfriend (double deer in headlights) and for some reason, I said yes.

I guess it felt more impeccant at the time. As his birthday approached a few weeks later, I wanted to be the coolest girlfriend. A Lacoste shirt from Saks, or something of the like-just wouldn’t cut it this time around. PSP’s were the hot new”toy”of the time-when they ranged from $400+. But for whatever reason, I didn’t want to buy him a plain black PSP, so I did my research and paid extra for a limited edition white one. When it came round to giving him the gift, he loved it and of course my title was the best girlfriend gift giver ever. That was of course until he decided to dump me two days later. While it seemed to be a laughing joke amongst him and his friends, I vividly remember listening to Hillary Duff’s “Come clean” and Kelly Clarkson on replay, as well as not wanting to leave my house in sheer embarrassment of the situation. How could I be so naive and how could I force myself into thinking that I was heartbroken when I didn’t even fall in love until I was in 10th grade, and at a completely different school district? I’ll blame fairytales and Hillary.

At some point we all need to wake up and realize what we want. Where we want to go and who we want to go their with.

Life is made for living-not spent dissenting.