I jumped out of an airplane!

With Lindsay Lohan in and out of jail, muddling with cocaine and meth, and spending the majority of her time in faux-lesbian relationships and trashy LA nightclubs, I truly believe that had she tried this on for size five years ago when she entered Hollywood, she would have gotten an adrenaline rush more intense than the best blow she could have gotten her hands on. And, with that being said and after an incredible weekend, I can endorse that sky-diving is officially the greatest anti-drug out there.

Let me go back to how this all began, when I was drinking Sex on the roof of the double, and after my third glass, my friend Vanessa leaned over to me and asked if I’d like to go skydiving with her in three weeks. Having little inhibitions during this conversation, Vanessa booked the sky diving appointment on the spot, and there was no turning back.
I’ve always loved roller coasters and fast cars, but jumping out of a plane?! I don’t think I’ve had more anxiety over anything in my entire life (and you’re talking to Xanax’s best friend right here, I won’t even lie about that).
Rocking out to some Slightly Stoopid and Sublime to soothe me all the way there, we cruised to Warrentown, Virginia, about an hour and a half outside of the city, and to be honest, I’m surprised that the guy from Texas Chainsaw Massacre didn’t attack us on the side of the road. But after arriving, shaking as I put on my cheerleading sneakers from Junior year of high school, I met a family of sky-divers at Capitol City Sky Dive, a family-run company with so much Southern hospitality that I was put at ease immediately. After the owner giving us a quick ten minute demo of how to arch our back during free-fall and his three-year-old grand daughter following along, he mentioned that he’d done over seven thousand sky dives to date! Out of nervousness, I jumped on the opportunity to be the first one to go up in the plane, since we’d be going one by one due to the plane’s small size.
Aren’t a fan of small jumper planes? This sport is NOT for you (sorry, Mom). On a slightly scary note, I will add that the plane was filled with duck tape and totally rickety, but knowing I would jump out after the longest ten minute flight to 10,000 feet of my life didn’t have me worrying about the poor plane conditions. My tandem jumper made light conversation with me, sensing my nervousness. At ten thousand feet, the plane stopped, and probably the scariest moment of my entire life occurred. The side door opened, and there I was, sitting with my feet on a small foot stool, with the winds going so fast against my face. Knowing that I would be jumping was surreal; if God was ever with me at any point during my life, it was at that moment, SERIOUSLY. And then I was told we’d rock back and forth, and on the third rock, we’d somersault head first out of the plane.
In my fake eyelashes and cubic zirconia studs, I free falled one thousand feet in ten seconds and the feeling was indescribable. Despite my apprehensions, my stomach didn’t drop for a single second. There have been roller coasters that I’ve done that have been legitimately scarier. But it was AMAZING; I felt like Superman, somersaulting and tumbling down for a full minute at speeds of one hundred forty miles per hour. And then, after three minutes, the parachute opened, we hopped up two hundred feet, and then, silence. After experiencing the greatest intensity of my life, I then felt like I was on a subliminal parasailing adventure, catching views of the beautiful Shenandoah Mountains.
“Do your boobs hurt?” The instructor asked me in his redneck-y accent, totally killing the mood of my relaxation, as the harness across the chest is known to be uncomfortable for females. We glided down, and he even let me steer my way all two thousand feet to the bottom. The landing was easy, graceful, and felt as if I was in some kind of pilates position. Lesson learned; suck it up, jump out of a plane, and DO IT! It’s horrifying and will probably give you the greatest anxiety of your life, but it’s all worth it. Just make sure you’re wearing a sexy outfit for the pictures!

Chelsea Handler was a Dud

I know this is old news, but with my job, internship, pageant coaching, cocktail waitressing, and social calendar always filling up, blogging can sometimes be a tough task to accomplish. Plus, if they choice is whether to go to Vida and get a great yoga workout or sit on my coach, blog, and eat Pirate’s Booty I’d stick with the first at the risk of getting obese and losing all of my friends. But, for the record, I am thoroughly disappointed and let down by my idol, Chelsea Handler, and her recent VMA hosting gig.

Her usually sarcastic, straight-forward, and raunchy humor makes me envious; I actually have gotten irritated watching her before because her jokes are so good that I actually get jealous of her ability. Her books are hilarious; who knew having sex with a midget could be such an adventure? But in the midst of all of this, Chels just didn’t live up to my expectations in her hosting abilities.
The hot tub vignette with the Jersey Shore cast? Wackkk. The hate on Gaga’s crazy outfits? Overkill. But most of all, it was her constant reference to the Kayne\Taylor beef that occurred last year, which is so over, I’m sure they’ve apologized already, and honestly, should not even be given another ten seconds for what it’s worth. Plus, why are we making jokes about Lindsay Lohan’s alcoholism and performing skits with her? To me, La Loca’s hot mess is not a laughing matter.
On the flip side, Chels looked HOT. I loved all of her outfit choices, and truly thought she looked great. With most of the good females comedians not exactly looking like they can afford the celebrity amenities that I’m sure their budgets can handle in the looks department (Margaret Cho or Roseann Barr, anyone?), she pulled herself together nicely and looked like one of the stars who she’d normally be making fun of. I just wished she was funnier, dammit.

The W Hotel Rocks my Socks

Everyone’s hating on the W these days, but it’s still one of my favorite outdoor spots in the District. From their delicious mojitos to the amazing view of the White House, I feel like this spot is perfect for the autumn happy hour. I love the décor and knowing that every time that I go I’ll be sure to see some kind of wannabe DC socialite, and in my opinion, it’s places like those that are the most comical to frequent. Whether you’d like a great place of filet mignon at J&G or would rather just bask in the mod chandeliers, try this place as a DC escape. I will say, however, that I take great issue in the lameness of the answering services that employees have. Instead of saying the standard “leave a message after the beep”, I was told “to leave my who, what, where, and when” which had me thinking, what the frig kind of place am I calling right now?! But aside from trying to fulfill some sort of Nuevo-riche standard, you may catch a professional athlete, and to me, that’s totally worth it. It’s also described as one of the top ten spots for “singles” (a word that mildly grosses me out and makes it sound like creepy internet dating), so just a huge FYI if you’re going here to meet your newest mate.


So screw you haters who don’t like the W, think it’s getting too young, too black, or too trendy. This is Washington DC; a young adult city with a majority black population. If you have a problem with that, buy some North Face and move to Boston.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Since the Harry Potter series, there have been very few books in which I have been on the edge of my seat and have stayed up all night with my reading light on in order to finish it. J to the K (though Harry’s looking quite hot these days). But to reiterate what I’m sure is on everyone’s reading agenda, Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, along with the other two books in his murder mystery trilogy, are probably some of the best works I’ve read in a while. Although lengthy, the easy reading, mysterious settings, and racy subject matters will keep you on the edge of your seat and begging for the next seductive chapter. And for all of the boys out there who say that these are girly books, think again- there is absolutely NOTHING Carie Bradshaw-esque about these reads. Still not sold? Here are my reasons why these books are the bomb:


• They take place in Sweden- AKA the best looking and one of my favorite countries in all of Europe (if you go, check out the Ice Lounge in Stockholm). And don’t schlep it if you visit. Though it’s not Paris or Milan, the French or Italian have nothing on these women.

• Blomquist seems like he’d be hot in person. He has promiscuous relationships, is a troubled writer, and can fight crime- sounds like a hot, Swedish Johnny Depp if you ask me.

• The shock value is intense. I love reading things that make me say, did that really just happen!? And in these books, it does. Plus, a great deal of it is pretty X-rated which makes it all the more juicy.

Don’t be a loser and read what everyone else has been into these days. Plus, you’ll want to check it out before they make the American movie so you can decide if Angelina Jolie or Kristen Stewart should play Lisbeth Salandar…like that’s even a question!