One to Nothin'

I confess..

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I meant to post this yesterday but my car got stuck on a curb while I was trying to parallel park leading to a full on sob fest and reminder that PMS is real.

Later on I ate an abundance of feelings at a Chinese restaurant.

I managed to moon the world, not once, but twice on Monday. One of which was when I was attempting to stop my dog from choking herself on her leash when she recklessly jumped out of the car while it caught on the console and the other was realized when a kind woman on the sidewalk informed me that my purse was pulling up my dress. Cool.

I then debated with the other human I was with about whether my butt was too big or the dress was too small. The jury is still out on that.

The first thing I ate today was nib toffee and I spent a good 15 seconds semi-convincing myself that hippie chocolate was okay to eat first thing in the morning. I think the word “healthy” even popped into my half-asleep brain. I regret nothing.
I signed up for a half marathon about a month from now that I’m not particularly prepared for and put a deposit down for a week in Vegas this summer that I’m also not particularly prepared for, and neither of which I can particularly afford.
I’ve seen way too many unwrapped condoms just out in the world lately. One resting over a pool table hole (I was told “you don’t win if you don’t put it in the condom hole..”) and another just sunbathing in the grass by Lake Merritt. Like.. WHY!?
I didn’t hate the 50 Shades movie. Maybe because I had ridiculously low expectations? Or maybe because I totally read the book? Or I’m just a horrible person? Also, I think everyone needs to chill. You don’t have to watch it. 
On my flight to California there was a perfectly nice man sitting next to me minding his own business and reading manuals or something, but every once in a while he would suck on his teeth loudly. Like he was really trying to show a cough drop who’s boss. This little, periodic, seemingly harmless act made me fantasize about punching him in the face. I actually thought through the consequences and tried to weigh them out in my mind. Maybe I shouldn’t have put this confession right after the 50 Shades one..

And on that note, I’m out.

Go link up with Melissa!

Florida and such

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GREAT NEWS: I found my hair straightener. I know you guys were worried sick, but it’s okay. You can rest easy now knowing that I left not only my hair straightener but also my hair brush in the hall bathroom at home in Florida over Christmas. I replaced the brush (I haven’t given up quite yet) but I’ve been going sans flat iron for too long. Okay, yea, whatever, it’s straight anyway- SHUT UP. It has sentimental value.

About those photos up there.. before flying to the sunshine state (which was significantly colder than the Bay the entire time I was there, btdubz) I went on a fun expedition down Piedmont Ave in Oakland where I found the world’s cutest store full of all the hipster tchotchkes I never knew I needed. And yes, I did just learn how to spell ‘tchotchke.’ Thanks for asking! I bought truffle mayo because duh, and that’s where I found these adorable wall hanging things with cute plants in them. That cactus, though, ohhh that fuzzy little babe is all mine and I love him.

Then I arrived at mi familia’s house where I proceeded to cuddle with that silly lookin’ golden retriever up there and drink the wine my sister was “saving” while catching up on all the shows I don’t watch anymore. The next day I got to watch one of my favorite people (the one I went on this cruise with and who gifted me the demon watch) marry a cool dude and party with all my friends I’ve known and loved since high school. I was supposed to fly out Sunday evening, but my flight was cancelled so I went to visit my broseph in Orlando where someone was writing a love note in the sky. 

Then, even though I got three hours of sleep, I managed to enjoy the crap out of my Presidents Day back on the west coast by reuniting with my pup, taking her to the park, eating Thai food and watching a smut movie in IMAX (#50shadesofDONTJUDGEME). That about sums up my weekend.

How was yours?

Valentine’s Day Blogmopolitan Quiz

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Since I jumped on Erin’s Blogmopolitan quizzes one and two, I figured I couldn’t miss out on the Valentine’s Day themed one even if it is based on the foreign-around-here subject of love. I’m in Florida for a wedding this weekend, so I’ll be spending my Valentine’s Day at the open bar with my best friend Jessica as my date. How will you be spending this ooey gooey weekend? Happy Friday!
XOXO
PS: Be sure to enter the Mint Julep Boutique giveaway–you have five days left and there aren’t very many entries so far! Get on it!

What I wore + Mint Julep Boutique Giveaway

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Dress: c/o Mint Julep Boutique / Booties: DSW / Necklace: PacSun
I’ve had a camera pointed at me a time or two throughout this life of mine. If you’re looking at this post (or any of these), you’re like, duh. If you’re a Facebook friend of mine, it’s also pretty obnoxious obvious that I don’t mind jumping in front of a camera, but for as often as I am in front of that camera, the amount of times another person has been behind it is embarrassingly low. Basically my proverbial soul is donezo because I have become master of the self-timer. This is a weird concept for just about everyone with the exception of maybe fashion bloggers and even they sometimes have professional photographers (or loving husbands) on hand. This photo shoot right here is kind of a big deal because it marks the first (or if you count this one, second) time a real life person took photos for me instead of the dynamic duo: me and my trusty tripod. We’re usually  beeping, flashing and frantically running in front of each other before snapping away and seeing if it was even in focus and, oh wait, is that dog shit in the shot?!
Obviously people are puzzled by the impulse us narcissists bloggers have to take photos of ourselves and I was entirely uncomfortable with the concept at first. It took me quite some time before sharing this weird little habit of mine with people that knew me in real life, but I soon came to stop caring because I realized I had no interest in blogs that didn’t have photos of the blogger.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate beautiful landscapes or perfectly plated foodporn, but if I care about your life and what you have to say about just about anything, then I want to see your face. Selfie shaming be damned! That’s not to say I won’t zoom in on you with my fancy DSLR to capture your 45-minute selfie sesh on the beach while your adorable children and husband play, enjoy life and completely ignore your ridiculous behavior (that actually happened on this day). I digress.

The point is, if you notice a difference in my posture, facial expressions or even just the fact that these photos were taken out on the streets of Oakland instead of within the confines of my apartment, it’s because someone volunteered to take over camera duties and make me smile for a while. Thanks, you. And now, for the subject you’ve been waiting for this whole time: this dress. You got to see a sneak peek here, but I felt like I couldn’t do the Mint Julep Boutique justice until I took this baby out into the painted walls of my city. I’m in love, I’m in love, and I don’t care who knows it! It’s so comfy and perfect for doing things like stuffing my face with In-N-Out burgers or shoving pho down my throat–all things that have been done so far while wearing this dress. 

I paired it with long, dangly dreamcatcher-esque earrings the first time around and opted for a long, fringey pouch necklace this time. These booties are from my DSW haul (Nicole) and I was skeptical at first, but now I’m smitten. They’re ultra comfortable since there’s barely a heel and they only kind of blend in with my skin color. If you don’t live in California, however, I imagine this tunic would look splendid over leggings and substantial boots. Care to try it out yourself? Enter below for the chance to win a $25 credit to the Mint Julep Boutique!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

For lots of extra cuteness check them out on Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, Facebook and Wanelo!

Pie for Mikey

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I promise I don’t just bake sweet things all day every day, but lately I’ve been drawn to the kitchen for lots of reasons surpassing the usual hunger pangs. A couple months before Christmas I came across this story and it drew me in immediately. It was one of those moments where, even though it happened four years ago and I was unfamiliar with the author, I was taken in the moment I read her beautiful, heartbreaking words. Jennie used to make this pie for her husband before he died suddenly, and she asked that her readers make it for their loved ones in his honor.

After watching videos of the pie being made and reading lots of social media outpourings of love (#pieformikey), I called my parents sobbing into the phone about how I wished I could make them all pies. I’m sure they hung up the phone like, “Yo, Mack is PMSing something fierce,” but at least while I was on the line they agreed that they, too, wished they could enjoy a homemade pie. When I got home for Christmas and suddenly felt defeated by my impersonal shopping lists and the lack of thought that went into my gifts for my family this year, I remembered the pie. My sister drove me to Publix and I searched the aisles for all things peanut butter and chocolate.

I followed the recipe exactly, even down to the freshly squeezed lemon, and even though I didn’t actually eat any of it (it has approximately five different forms of dairy in it) it was gone in a matter of minutes. I heard it was pretty damn good, but even if it wasn’t, I bet they would’ve liked it anyway. Connecting with stories and creating things with my hands are two of my favorite things ever. Baking something–especially something as decadent and superfluous as pie–with the thought of someone else present throughout the whole magical process feels like the perfect way to say:

“Hey, I love you, you know.”

Weekend Snapshots

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This weekend I did a lot of birthday celebrating. I baked a whole lot of cupcakes, including Taylor Swift themed ones, and I managed to pull off the oxymoronic ice cream s’more cake with toasted marshmallows on top (recipe to come). I spent a night eating In-N-Out while drinking champagne and painting. I spent a night indoor mini-golfing (terribly I might add) and eating Mission burritos. I might’ve even had a celebrity spotting (did anyone else watch Greek?). My trick candles might’ve been a fire hazard on multiple occasions, but I think they were worth the smoke and surplus of spit. I received this dress from The Mint Julep Boutique and I have a sweet giveaway (plus better photos) coming this week. Sunday might’ve been one of the the laziest day of my life, but overall it’s been a lovely weekend full of lovely people. How did you spent the last few days?

Things I’ve been emailing myself

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I have a really really ridiculous long thread going on in my inbox and it’s all from me. I keep trying to remember to look at things by emailing them to myself, but then I’m just overwhelmed when I go to try to find it within said thread, so instead I’m going to sort through it and give you guys the highlights.

This dude‘s artwork is super rad. Who wants to go to Australia with me to check out his upcoming exhibit?

I’ve always been a fan of The Streets, but I just realized A Grand Don’t Come For Free tells a story from start to finish, so now I’m obsessed. What can I say? I’m a sucker for creative storytelling.

Then I stumbled upon this interview with Mike Skinner because I’m not a big enough fan to know things like when they break up four years ago, but interesting nonetheless.

I just learned the word ‘corporeal.’ I like it.

I think I’m ready to try baking a fancy-pants cake like this one.

An interesting thought on getting into your “angry place.”

Cutest blogging couple ever (hint: they’re both super hot).

I’m obsessed with Pharrell. Those jammies.

If you have issues figuring out your site statistics (like I do..) this might help.

These DIY photo backdrops blew my freaking mind.

I want to see this.

Anybody else who never got to go to summer camp and desperately wanted to? Let’s do this!

I’m doing this as soon as I am settled somewhere officially for longer than 12 months.

Want to fall in love with me? Here’s how.

My newest boot purchase (heart eyes).

10 helpful blogging apps.

I’m getting to work on checking all these Bay Area must-do’s off the list.

This blogger rocks and this post made me feel things.

Get shit done.

This list is getting robust, and I’m not even halfway through. Perhaps there will be a part two.
What links have you been emailing/texting/pinning lately? Send ’em on over.

Clothes & Confessions

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Dress: 41Hawthorn / Coat: B.B. Dakota / Shoes: Target / Tights: Urban Outfitters / Necklace: Excessory Exchange

I confess…

I picked this dress out for myself back when I worked for StitchFix. Pretty sure that’s where all my paychecks from that establishment went actually.

My kitchen floor always looks like that; it’s not just dirty. You should see the carpet.. yikes.

I keep baking things for people that I can’t eat myself (read: all dairy everything), but then I accidentally lick spoons and, well, my stomach is retaliating as we speak.

I lost a bet on the Super Bowl game and now I have to do a choreographed dance to a Katy Perry song.. Should I wear a “Blades of Glory” costume too?

I text people in hashtags when I drink too much champagne.

Yesterday was Ziggy’s birthday and I forgot until my grandma wrote on her Facebook wall.

…my dog has a Facebook page.

Every night when I walk home from the train, it’s super dark out and I get scared so I’ve gotten into the habit of calling someone every time. I call it “talking me home.”

Sometimes when I’m PMSing and someone doesn’t answer for said talk home, I cry.

I worked out my arms with 5-pounders last night and I could barely lift them afterward. I really can’t lift them now. #weakling

I can’t remember the last time I painted my finger or toe nails. Good thing I’m not one of the 56 bajillion people getting engaged right now.

I refuse to spend money on gym clothes and I realized yesterday at the gym that I do, in fact, have the world’s ugliest gym attire and world’s least supportive sports bras.

I also never want to spend money on intimate apparel, so there are holes all over my skivvies, but I ordered three new pairs of boots the other day. Priorities?

I just discovered this band, and I’m obsessed.

I think that’s all I’ve got. What do you confess? Go link up with Melissa!
Also linking up here.

The ones that don’t make it to instagram

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You know how those insta-celebs make their lives look like pure perfection on Instagram? The ones you hate to love/love to hate? I, for one, have been curating the crap out of my Insta-life lately, so I have zero room to talk. There’s something seriously addictive about trying to show off the prettiest princess photos you possibly can and looking at them as a whole instead of a gorgeous seascape next to a mutilated fish head (even though these are actually the things I take photos of on a daily basis). For me, it’s more like a portfolio showing off the best of the best instead of trying to trick you guys into thinking I’ve got my shit together (because let’s be real). Someone who just recently started following @mackensieg, however, might just think I spend all my time dancing on beaches and taking off on tropical camping adventures every day of the week.

Those who have been around for a while know this is a new development. It wasn’t long ago when I was posting #sweatyselfies on the reg. It’ll only take a few scrolls to find me in all my glistening, red-faced glory. There used to be something addictive about showing the world how often I work out and cook sriracha dotted dishes, but maybe that had to do with having very few friends near me at any given time. Anyway, the point is I take ugly pictures all the time. I don’t delete them. They sit in my phone and make me lol any time I choose to scroll through them, so here are the pictures that don’t make the Instagram cut, my friends. They may not all be ugly, but most of them make me laugh for some reason or another.

So from left to right, kinda..

I have way too many photos of me freezing in my apartment. It’s not even cold outside but it’s an ice box in here (does anyone remember this song?).

I take a lot of photos of my beverages. I pretty much never post them anywhere so I’m not sure where this compulsion comes from.

There’s the view from my office window that I snuck when no one was looking. I never want people to know about my obsessive documentation, but my mom wants to know what my office is like! Sue me!

My kind of Valentine’s Day card.

Does taking an arm heart photo on the beach at sunset mean I’m losing my edge? Has my early admission to Bad Bitch University been revoked? Because that I am not okay with. Excuse me while I go put on my combat boots and drink whiskey.

Another bevvie. That’s matcha on top.

I burned the crap out of my asparagus.

Oh hi, pretty tree and blurry sausage dog.

#Doyouevenliftbro?

I spilled coffee all over my crotch on the train on the way to work. ALL OVER. I blame Mercury.

Way too excited to see the Dude Baby for the first time in four months. He’s HUGE!!

Speaking of huge: giant artichoke.

Beautiful painted portrait of a precious child.. with a mustache. Classic.

Me doing what I do best: eating brunch hung over.

Hungry hungry fish heads.

Do you guys hoard random photos on your phone too?

More sunset pics & thoughts on beach days

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As a kid, a beach day meant swimming and splashing in the waves. It meant trying to understand how my cousin could keep his eyes open underwater when mine burned and burned. It meant playing electronic Yahtzee and eating Cheetohs on a ginormous towel. It meant reapplying sunscreen over and over to wet, sandy skin, and ultimately it meant crying because my face was red and raised with blisters despite our best efforts and there was undoubtedly an obscene amount of sand in my crotch.

As a teenager, beach days meant skipping school to try in vain to get a golden tan where I knew, deep down, only freckles would appear. Drinking Ballz energy drinks and wishing we were old enough to order pina coladas at the bars. Sneaking into tacky hotel swimming pools and, of course, leaving mounds of sand in our wake. Skim boarding and bleeding from the knees every time. Admiring the college kids on spring break and listening to way too many Justin Timberlake songs.

In college it was all about that cooler full of beer, Smirnoff or, in my case, tequila. Fraternity formals, neon tank tops, flip cup, making fools of ourselves while throwing our letters up at any camera we could find. Still trying for that unattainable tan and perfect beach bod while obsessing over who was last seen making out with whose date. So much Corey Smith.

Right after college it was a source of freedom and independence. Finally realizing I could go somewhere, be something and enjoy time all by myself. It was drinking tea, reading, listening to the ocean, coming to terms with my pale complexion and perhaps even enjoying the constant reapplication of sunscreen.

On the east coast the beach was hot and the water was there to cool down in. The air was sticky, you could taste the salt without going near the water and there were motels, hotels, condos and kitschy shops selling beach towels with giant white tigers on them as far as the eye could see. It was good. I loved it there and I still do. But beach days are different now.

Here I see people openly sipping wine, dogs sprinting with their everything into the ocean to catch balls, giant rock formations decorating the coastline, cool, dry gusts of wind, jackets, sweaters, windbreakers, brave children swimming and soon their teeth chattering, surfers always wearing wetsuits and the absolute most gorgeous freakin’ sunsets I’ve ever come across.

These days beach days still serve all the best purposes of the past: day drinking, laughing too loudly over a game of frisbee, making out in the sand, spending time alone, reading, people watching. But they’re also for making new friends, dancing in the sunset, playing with a fancy camera and being grateful for this pretty great place.

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