I’ve been trying to increase the variety of things that I post on Lex and the City’s Facebook page instead of just linking to recent posts. Basically, I’ve been trying to post additional, complimentary material that you wouldn’t get just from reading the blog alone. In doing this, I’m trying to provide incentive to like the page on Facebook because it’s a better interface for us to interact on.

Here’s the kind of stuff I’ll be posting:

1. Links to recent posts (of course)

2. Links to posts from the archives

3. Comments on the blog that I like

4. Completely unnecessary and narcissistic web cam photos

5. Links to other people’s blogs/posts I like

6. Funny google searches from my google analytics

7. and um… anything else stupid and pointless I feel like posting

And of course, with the Facebook setup, you are able to post whatever you want on it as well. So good do that. You know I’ll respond.

Sometimes I wonder what I would do without my dear friend, Hiba. Yesterday at work, she let me know that the Steve Madden at Tyson’s Corner was closing and that all of the shoes were two for $40. Of course by the time I made it there, none of the shoes I wanted were available in my size. Why must I have the most common shoe size ever? Damn you, size 8-8.5 feet. Why must you be so average!!!

I was about ready to give up when something caught my eye–there amongst all the picked over Steve Madden pumps stood one single Betsey Johnson pump. I have no idea what she was doing in Steve Madden, but I skipped her over to sales attendant, with crossed fingers, and asked for an 8 or an 8.5. The rest of it gets kind of blurry, because before I know it, I’m leaving Steve Madden with a pair of outrageous Bestey Johnson shoes for a fourth of their original price. That’s right. Baby girls were only $30.

So forget what I said about trying to be responsible with money and putting my shoe spending on hold. Because if anything in the world sounds stupid to me, it’s walking away from $30 Betsey Johnson pumps.

Side note: BetsyJohnson.com and BetseyJohnson.com are two completely different things.

Do you recall the scene in the Oscar winning film “The Wedding Planner” where Jennifer Lopez gets her shoe stuck in a sewage grate in the street?

So yeah. That totally happened to me today.

I was in the cafe in the downstairs of the building I work in when I got the heel of my shoe stuck in a small drain on the floor. I called out to my friend Serena to come help me, but before she could come to my aid, a Mexican construction worker was on the floor trying to free my shoe. About 20 people in were in the cafe at the time and witnessed my stuckness. And let me add, I’m not quiet girl. Needless to say, it was a scene.

Only me, right?

Well, me and Jennifer Lopez.

Warning.

Warning.

Warning.

Warning.

Do not continue reading this post if you are a man. Especially if you are my dad or my brother or my boss.

I recently finished my first week with the DivaCup and I just wanted to share my thoughts on it in case anyone is contemplating “greening” their period.

The DivaCup “is a non-absorbent menstrual cup that simply collects menstrual flow. It is inserted in the vagina and sits at the lower base of the vaginal canal. The DivaCup can be worn for up to 12 hours before emptying, washing and reinserting for use for another 12 hours. It can be used for light or moderate flows and is emptied more often to accommodate heavy flows. Perfect for overnight use.”

So now the major reason I was interested in trying the DivaCup is living alone has caused me to realize that there is no such thing as a tampon fairy and those suckers don’t just magically appear under the sink. So not only was I getting frustrated with always having to soak up (ew) the cost of my Tampax collection, but I also was just terrible in general at keeping it stocked. I always forget to bring the suckers to work with me and would frequently go way to long without changing them. Seriously. How have I not died from toxy shock yet?

I spent $36 on my DivaCup, which I found at Whole Foods. There are only two sizes of cups–one for women who haven’t given birth and one for women who have.

Inserting the DivaCup was pretty easy. I mean, I’m pretty used to shoving things up my Eleanor Rigby at this point–whether it be vodka soaked tampons or the Nuva Ring. I chose the “push down fold” method of insertion.

The cup can be worn for up to 15 hours–which is really ideal. I don’t have to worry about forgetting to take “shark week” supplies with me to work. It also didn’t leak at all, which is really amazing for not ruining the Victoria’s Secret underwear that your mom’s dog is just going to eat when you visit home anyway.

I’m still not entirely used to taking the cup out, though I did improve as the week progressed. The first few times, I had to lay on my back to get the cup out. And if you’re thinking about how gravity works, then yeah, that’s not ideal. Let’s just say that I might have dumped its contents on myself once or twice while taking it out. (Kill me)

I ultimately think this was a really great investment. I love the fact that I’m reducing the amount of sick nasty tampon and pad waste in the world, and I also love the fact that I never have to waste money on them ever again. Plus, not having to worry about changing anything or worry about leaks is also pretty ideal. I would definitely recommend the DivaCup and hate my period a little bit less than I used to.

I forgot until recently how absolutely ridiculous the Kardashian Christmas card always is…

Like… certain proportions just don’t look right. Can the Kardashians somehow not afford decent photoshopping?

But more importantly, last night as I was pointing out all the oddities in the K-card, I remembered that I didn’t even make it into my family Christmas card.

Yep, that’s what I get for moving out of the state I suppose.

Ok, I guess technically I made it into the picture. See that thing my mom is holding? It’s a Christmas ornament with my photo in it.

We’re an unusual family. I really have no right calling out the Kardashians…

Awkward family photos, look out!

Remember my hair story? It’s about time for an update.

We left off with my hair being black:

And then I got straight across “fat girl bangs” and red highlights… which kind of ended up looking a little more orange than red.

After this, I decided for some reason that black and orange hair wasn’t very professional, and that I was about to graduate and needed to look professional enough to get a job. So I had the black stripped off my hair and attempted to get my natural hair color back. However, the result was definitely somewhat gingery.

I quickly grew tired of people mistaking me for a red head. But rather than let a trusted professional color my hair, I did what any cheapo would do and dumped some dark brown hair color on it.

Then, to be honest, I didn’t do anything to it for a very long time.

It was long.

It was versatile.

It was overall really ideal.

And for reasons that I’m not entirely sure of, I referred to it in this state as my porn star hair.

Unfortunately, 9 months without a haircut is pretty rough on your hair. I had tons of split ends and my hair was constantly getting really tangled. I knew it was time for a trim. And since I was supposed to go back to Pennsylvania this weekend, I made an appointment with my trusted hair stylist from back home. But when the time got closer to make the drive back to PA, my parents expressed concerns about driving the SmartCar in the snow through the mountains. I cancelled my trip and my appointment, but I knew I really shouldn’t wait until my next trip to get that haircut. So I sucked it up and made one at a local salon in Germantown, MD.

Let’s just say the experience wasn’t exactly ideal.

I told the hairstylist that she could take 2 inches off the ends, trim up the layers, and shape my bangs. I left the salon feeling bald…

The hair that I used to refer to as porn star hair now looked more like preschool teacher hair.

The hair that used to make me feel like a sex god now made me feel like a 1990′s girl next door.

I left feeling like I had just been given “the Rachel.”

I left feeling like I needed a new wardrobe consisting entirely of turtlenecks to match my conservative cut.

I left feeling like I looked about as hot as Miss Honey in Matilda. AKA not hot at all.

I might have even cried for three whole minutes.

What bothers me the most, perhaps, is I feel like I’ve had this exact same haircut before…when I was in high school.

Since then, I’ve calmed down a little. It’s not like I look terrible. I just find myself trying to compensate for the lack of sexy hair.

So we end part 2 of my hair story on a not so happy note. But the good news is, I now have a reason to re-incorporate spinach smoothies into my diet to speed up my hair growth.

Whenever Maddie and I were little, I walked into our bedroom to find her frantically hiding something underneath the covers on her bed. Like the asshole that my 10-year-old self was, I lifted the covers to reveal a naked Barbie Doll and a naked Ken Doll on top of each other. (Yes, I linked to Barbie and Ken’s Twitter accounts because yes, Barbie and Ken have Twitter accounts. And last names apparently. Barbie Style and Ken Carson. Game changing, really. I should add that I found Ken’s Twitter by googling ‘barbie and ken getting freaky.’ Normal, yes?)

Of course, what I wasn’t willing to admit at the time was that I had rubbed Barbie and Ken’s plastic parts together plenty of times myself. Instead, I wanted to let Maddie think that she was deviated pervert. But I wasn’t going to stop there. No. I was going to tell Ruth Anne–our babysitter who’s care taking was not nearly as flexible and forgiving as her stretchy pants with foot stirrups (this was the 90′s after all).

Maddie begged me not to tell Ruth Anne what I saw, but like I said, I was 10 years old and therefore an asshole. As I skipped off into the hallway and sung out Ruth Anne’s name, Maddie threw herself dramatically on her bed, and screamed out,

“You’re ruining my life!”

I can proudly say I’ve been ruining Maddie’s life for 20 years now. Happy 20th Birthday wittle baby seeeestor.

Somebody I know is getting married.

And that somebody asked me to be his best man.

Well it went more like this:

“We’re getting married.”

“Oh.” *continues eating pork chops.*

“Do you want to come to the wedding?”

“Sure.” *continues eating pork chops*

Ten minutes later after pork chops are gone….

“Wait, are you really getting married.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” *twiddles thumbs*

Ten minutes of thumb twiddling later…

“So let me get this straight: you. and you. getting married?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Am I gonna be your best man?”

“You are my best man, Lex.”

“Good. Cause imma look good in a tuxedo.”

And you know what? I really am gonna look freaking awesome in a tuxedo.

And of course, my favorite Lex and the City inspiration….

I was buying a stupid amount of panties at Victoria’s Secret last Monday (my mom’s dog just eats them when I visit home anyway) whenever I was told that the oh so familiar pink shopping bag for my delicate purchases was going to cost me an extra five cents. This seemed like nothing at the time considering I just spent $60 on butt floss.

So at the time, the new Montgomery county bag tax didn’t seem like such a big deal. After all, what was I going to do? Carry two handfuls of panties through the mall? They weren’t going to fit in my clutch.

But then I got to thinking about how fast five cents can add up. I mean, they didn’t come up with that “If I had a nickel for every time I…” phrase for no reason. Say, on the low side, I need about five bags a week. A quarter a week, a dollar a month, $12 a year. That’s like, a pair of panties right there. But on the higher side, let’s say I need 10 bags a week. So more like $24 a year. That’s about how much it costs to fill up the SmartCar tank.

And then I thought about some of the reasons why the bag tax is there to begin with. Mostly, to curb pollution and to encourage the use of reusable bags. “The county has stressed that the primary intent of the bag fee isn’t to raise additional revenue for the county, but change consumer behavior and help the environment in the process,” the Huffington Post reports.

So if I’m going to be spending $12-24 on ugly grocery bags anyway, I figured I might invest in some more attractive reusable bags. Here are some of the cute ones I found:

from envirosax

from ChicoBag

What are your thoughts on the bag tax?