9.29.2009

Tonight's Not Gonna Be a Good Night


Have you ever heard of a culling song? I just finished reading "Lullaby" by Chuck Palahniuk, and for those of you who are unfamiliar with this idea, it's a song or a spoken phrase that kills whoever hears it. Considered some type of curse derived from Santeria and Voodoo cultures in the Caribbean, there is a song recently that has been closest to a culling for me. Despite its upbeat-ness and its insinuation that someone's going to be getting lucky tonight, The Fergalicious Band (known more commonly as the Black Eyed Peas), have a new single that honestly curses my night whenever I hear it played. "I Got a Feeling", for those of you who live in a cave and haven't heard it, has a catchy, feel-good chorus chanting over and over again that "tonight's gonna be a good night", giving off the vibe that you're about to partake in a drunken make out scene in either Laguna Beach or Dawson's Creek. Despite it sounded like the trailer for a coming-of-age series with a good-looking cast, this song has done nothing but bring back luck to all of the times in which I have heard it. I'm writing this entry to warn guys and girls everywhere about its negative power and to also give you some examples of what manifested after hearing the song:

  1. On a Match.com date: And I RARELY go on these, might I add, but the first time I heard this song was at the beginning of the night of meeting my Internet lover for the first time. Without giving out too many specifics and revealing his identity, the lyrics gave me a sense of excitement thinking that I had just met my prince charming. Didn't happen. His poor table manners and his putting on a windbreaker when it started to become rainy killed it all.
  2. At my ex-boyfriend's sister's wedding: In which he got so drunk that he began hitting on a 45-year-old MILF, in which she responded by telling him she wanted to lick him like a lollipop. After a screaming match next to the buffet line, we've moved on since that shitteous evening.
  3. When a homeless man followed me down 14th street: When I was just trying to meet up with my friends at Lima! Resembling the guy who does the "Rack 'Em" skits on YouTube, he followed me from L all the way to K asking me to buy him a dollar menu item, even though I had no cash on me. And then proceeded to yell at me about his brother would do disparaging things (that I can't post on here in detail in case my mom decides to read this) to me if I didn't give him money. Scary.
  4. Before being rejected from Currents: I must have looked pretty fugly that night. I go to this club every week almost and they just weren't feeling my presence, even after I walked to the front of the rope and began screaming at a bouncer, was told the club was full. I then was forced to go to a lesser club with one of my girlfriends and be her wing-girl, and with that, spent the night dancing with a rancid guy.
  5. When my friend's "boyfriend" showed up at the bar with another girl: And I had to let him know that I had heard so many good things about him...when he was her boyfriend. This comment took him by surprise and I think lead to their breakup later that evening. Yes, I heard this song in the car on the way out that night, too.
With "I Got a Feeling" being one of the Top 5 songs on America's Top 40 (no, I don't listen to that, come on people. I googled it.), I'm sure that this song has many more mishaps in store for me soon. Have any of you had equally mortifying experiences after hearing it? Maybe it's just me, but if not, comment and let me know!

<3,
Angela

FACT: Avinesh Rana Will Win Top Chef


He's not even in the competition. But let me tell you, if Avinesh Rana, more commonly known as "Nash" by those around him (AKA probably only me), works up the guts to contact Bravo and audition for the next season, the prize package will be his hands down. I came to this conclusion about a month ago, when I was down with mono, and watched Top Chef for about four hours for an afternoon. While most of the chefs were impressive, I thought about my friend Nash, who is also the executive chef at the modern Asian hotspot Sei Restaurant and Lounge (444 7th Street NW), and realized that he could have kicked all of these guys asses in the kitchen. With a knack for fusion flavors along with his Nepal-born charm, Nash will surprise your senses with tastes that you never knew existed. 
Born in Nepal and attending culinary school at Johnson & Wales in Providence, Rhode Island, Nash, like myself, has close ties to both Rhode Island and DC. Working at Sky Bar (or Sky Bahhh, as most North Provindencers will pronounce it) on Mineral Spring Ave. followed by The Prov (in which I spent all of my weekends for my entire senior year of high school compliments of Jon Almon Jr.), Rhode Island became a bit too small for Nash as it often does for others, and quickly relocated to DC. After juggling a few other culinary gigs in the Capitol, he soon settled down at Sei, where alongside Chef Nori Yasutake, created some unforgettable recipes that have made my thighs expand three fold and my favorite Seven jeans not fit anymore. 
Favoring Dim Sum as one of his preferred items to cook, Nash is a flavor whiz and even makes things like boring tofu taste insane (Take his Tofu Steak, for example, in which he uses wasabi marscapone and shiitake mushrooms to make it extremely flavorful, and caloric, if I might add, but it's worth it!). His fish dishes are excellent, too, and even roped me into enjoying salmon when in the past I used to throw fits about even having a taste of it. Nash has gotten several write ups throughout the city, and was even featured on Fox 5 news. When he's not cooking, I know for a fact that he thoroughly enjoys beers at Clydes in Chinatown and watching UFC fights.
Want to pretend you're Avinesh Rana for the day? Try this great recipe in the kitchen one night when you're trying to impress your special someone.

Pan Fried Tofu with Wasabi Mascarpone and Braised Shitake Mushrooms

By: Chefs Noriaki Yasutake and Avinesh Rana

  • Fresh Firm Tofu 1 ea (8 oz square block)
  • Corn starch ½ cup
  • Grape seed oil 2 tbsp
  • Garlic clove 1 ea
  • Butter 1 tsp
  • Salt to taste

 

  1. Turn the oven to 300 degrees.
  2. Heat the oil in a non stick pan.
  3. Dredge the tofu with the cornstarch.
  4. When the oil is hot, carefully place the tofu in the pan.
  5. When the tofu gets a nice crust on one side (about a minute and half on med heat) turn it over.
  6. Crush the garlic clove and add it to the pan with the butter.
  7. Place the pan in the oven.
  8. The Tofu steak should be done in about 4 minutes.
If you want an excellent dining experience with a fabulous chef, join Chef Nash at Sei for an unforgettable meal. Just make sure you don't try to calorie count while you're indulging...
xo,
Angela =)

9.26.2009

The Real World is Getting Too Real for My Liking


I was always a huge Real World fan. I remember the first season I followed, Real World Hawaii, where Ruthie was the crazy drunk and Colin was hot frat boy and Amaya had perfect boobs that I wish I had while at that time I was stuck halfway through puberty dealing with these two pointy small things on my chest. They lived in a beautiful mansion near the beach with an Infinity Pool and Cribs-worthy interior decorating, while making me laugh and cry (Yes, pretty sad, I have been known to cry while watching reality television. Like when Flav chose Deelishis over New York, I almost needed a Xanax) during their monologues inside of the trendsetting confessionals. They took a gorgeous trip to Fiji, worked an easy job that was so insignificant no one remembers what it was, and drank and smoke every night in the company of other beautiful people. While I was in the sixth grade dealing with acne and petty fights with my girlfriends over who copied whose Polo Sport Bag amongst other things, watching the Real World Hawaii kind of allowed me to live vicariously through the lives of these beautiful people who seemed to have not a care in the world. Best of all, there wasn't all that much that was actually real about it. 
Clearly, my interests have changed since the sixth grade, and haven't really been keeping up with the seasons the past couple years (Like the time I went out with Randy from the San Diego season this summer and didn't even know he was on the show until the end of the night, which I immediately made sure that I made up for the lost time of ball busting that would have happened had I known), but still appreciate it as the original reality show. I even tried out for it at one point, sending a video in and all, only be responded by Bunim & Murray that while they couldn't see me as a candidate for the Real World, had another show in mind that I'd be great for (Bad Girls Club. Needless to say, I did not follow through with the casting and am clueless as to why they saw this as "a better fit"). When I found out last year that the Real World: DC would be starting soon, I was ecstatic. Seven hot, fabulous people would be galavanting DC, hanging out on the roof top at the W hotel and probably having amazing dinners at Komi. When I saw the mansion that was renovated for them off Dupont Circle, I was even more determined that I would befriend someone on this show, seeing as they're usually interesting people with big personalities. 
After going out as usual for the past two months since the show had begun taping and not seeing the cast anywhere, I was determined to see the Real World tonight and become BFFs with someone on it as soon as my friend Christina called me from Fly Lounge to alert me that the cameras were rolling there. Well, let's just say they were not what I expected. 
God forgive me, but I have never seen a season of Real World in which the cast members have looked so "real" before. Which is maybe a good thing, I guess, but this is TV! When I walked into the club, some average looking blonde that the cameras were attacking gave me a dirty look, which I immediately flashed back (and am now hoping that it will make the taping cut and I will get on television, but I doubt it). Later, her and some brunette on the show, who looked like they were sixteen, were fighting at the entrance and holding up the entire line so the camera crew could get a good shot. But my girlfriends and I could pull off a more entertaining fight scene then these girls could, and they were apparently casted to be on television. They were average looking, lacked personality, and one of the boys was wearing a Fedora because from the looks of it, looked like he forgot to shampoo his hair. I hate talking poorly about others and I'm sure the Real Worlders are all lovely people, but I feel like with the DC cast, the fantasy of the Real World has died a little bit. What happened to the Danny and Melissa's, the untouchable, drop-dead gorgeous couples who radiated energy? Instead we have Mr. Frumpy McGee in his Fedora. The Real World needs to STOP getting real and know there place.
......Actually, scratch everything I just wrote. I think I'm just jealous of all of them and wish that I could be on the Real World. ;)
xo
Angela

9.24.2009

Car Free DC


I want to preface this post by saying that I've always secretly wanted to learn how to ride a segway (Or, according to the Bill Nye-looking man who tried to sell me one yesterday, a "Segway Personal Transporter). And although you probably don't want to admit it either, I'm sure you've seen the groups of twenty or so middle aged retirees in white helmets zipping around the city in those Capitol segway tours, secretly wishing that you could try riding one of those back to the future-looking things, as well. Two days ago, when I was strolling Chinatown with my ex-boyfriend, Manny (who I am openly still in love with), we ran into the Car Free DC festival on F Street. Sponsored by the Department of Motor Vehicles, Car Free DC was created six years ago as a green initiative to encourage DC residents to do away with their vehicles and take on a more Earth-friendly habit in getting around. 
Now, I'm going to be honest; Although I love Ralph Nadar and soy products, I love a good steak from Smith & Wollensky and my leather Louis Vuitton Speedy even more. And, it's safe to say that while I secretly pretend it's an Audi sometimes while I'm driving it, I love my Volkswagon Jetta too much to part with it. I wouldn't exactly characterize my lifestyle as one that is "green", or better yet, "organic", but I definitely appreciated what this festival had to offer and what it was trying to achieve. With sponsors like Washington Area Bicyclists Association and Zipcar (which is a sensitive subject in my family, seeing as my many charges using the service lead to the majority of fights between myself and my father during college), the festival convinced me for the hour I spent there to leave my Jetta at home (Of course, after walking around for an hour, my feet got tired and I started complaining about how much I needed to drive home). There were various promotions and giveaways on Zipcar services, bikes, carpool initiatives, and even electronic scooters.
But most importantly, there was a segway demonstration going on that I made Manny try with me immediately. After signing my life away in a waiver and refusing to wear to the ugly helmet, I got on the segway and road along F Street. Oddly enough, the machine detects the nerves in your body in order to designate a direction. For example, if you place even the slightest bit of pressure on your heels, the segway will stop. It was a lot of fun, and I seemed to have a lot more fun than the man who went before me (who was nearly identical to Stanley from the Office, I might add). 
Did this festival convince me to be car free in DC? Absolutely not. But I did find out that segways are only $3600 used...
xo,
Angela

9.22.2009

Clip-In Hair: A Must for Every Woman


Even though I no longer live at home, my mother still reprimands me when we're on the phone while I'm getting ready for a big night out. As soon as I put the phone on speaker, implying that my hands are doing serious work (she knows I can do my make-up one handed, driving, etc), all hell breaks loose; Can you take those goddamn things out of your hair? or Jesus Christ, Angela, people are laughing at you, I hope you know! Regardless of her pestering, I will always have those nights when I see one too many photos of Aubrey O'Day and immediately need to change up my shoulder length hair for something much more pageant-ready. So, if you've seen my Facebook and wonder, Wow, the length of her hair just always changes!, yes, I'm coming out. I have been a hair extension addict since the emergence since senior prom when the Paul Mitchell hair school was giving out specials for glue-in synthetic hair (needless to say, it absolutely destroyed my hair and was a bit Lady Godiva-looking as I reflect back on it).
With more time and money, I have graduated onto more quality lines of fake hair and weaves that allow me to play with my look more freely. I wish I could say that this post was out of the requests from others, but really, I just think that every woman out there is curious to flirt with a little bit of false hair and just isn't ballsy enough to ask. After much experimentation and even more mishaps in which I have gone out for the night with my entire track showing (FYI- the piece of fabric that attaches all of the fake here), here is a list I've compiled of some great extension lines, from clip-ins to celebrity quality, that will allow you too to feel like a Real Housewife of Orange County for the night:
  • Hair Do: Founded by Kevin Paves and Jessica Simpson (or probably just Kevin Paves), these range from $60 to $500, and are more hair pieces then extensions. They're fun for a night out, but for daily use I feel like I'm putting on a wiglett for the stage. 
  • EuroNext: A celebrity on my facebook. My favorite line, which is 100% human hair and clip in extensions that are all priced at $75 a package, which is enough to fit a normal sized head. You can find these at an Ulta or Sally's Beauty Supply, and come in over 25 shades. 
  • Great Lengths: A more expensive method, this line has become popular in salons across the country. Ranging at between $800 and $1200 an application, these last for about six months and you won't have to worry about tracks. But be weary; the healthy "protein" bond that attaches the extension to your hair is actually just a bunch of drying chemicals that will make your mane look like Courtney Love's after you take them out.
  • Glamour Hair: This is a more ethnic line that caters to thicker, African American hair. It's great for weaves or gluing in tracks. I used Glamour Hair, which is 100% human, when I had a weave put in before a vacation. It looked beautiful but took my hair months to recover from upon removal. Plus, it's priced at about $350 for the hair and application and only lasts for two weeks. 
  • The Donosca Method: One of the most luxurious methods brought over from Toni & Guy in Paris, the Donosca method starts at $16o0, uses all human hair from Italy, and uses small tubes to attach the hair to the bonding so that no damage occurs. I don't know much more about this method seeing as it will be at least another ten years in my lifetime before I can even begin to think about affording it. 

A question I get from many hair extension-gentiles: But how can you wear another human's hair? Exercise some intelligent here, people. Obviously Ken paves and Jessica Simpson are not making women in a lab grow their hair 22-inches only to cut it later, nor are any of the other manufacturers. Instead, hair is actually genetically grown in labs, most popularly Iceland and the Balkans (Not a bad fun fact for your next cocktail party, FYI). So, to ease your worries, you're not actually wearing another human's hair.
I will continue to love- no, be OBSESSED with- hair extensions, but more importantly, will continue to love anything that will dramatically change my look, but just for the night, so that the next morning I can wake up and say what a great dream I had the night before when I was a member of Danity Kane...
xx-
Angela

9.21.2009

Indebleu got a Makeover: Stir Lounge


I am extremely critical when it comes to DC nightlife. After working as a hostess, guestlist girl, and bottle girl throughout my college years, I have developed a snobbery towards every club I enter in DC and beyond (and for those of you who need a short-term, part time job and AREN'T socially awkward, I highly recommend the nightclub industry; just don't blow every paycheck on a new Gucci bag or trendy L.A.M.B. stuff that you end up consigning like I did). That's why, whenever a new club opens in the area, I'm very apprehensive. I remember when Muse in Chinatown opened up last January, and was told that it was going to be "a New-York style guest list policy with bottle service minimums starting at $800". Apparently, I must have had a different concept of what this was after seeing the crowd inside while dancing underneath a light presentation that looked like something I bought from Spencer's Gifts in middle school (Not that I'm the greatest class act or anything; I did just take out the weave in my hair that I had been sporting all weekend). The fact of the matter is, I have continued to stick to my oldies but goodies, seeing as it has been a long time since I've been actually impressed with anything new in DC night entertainment.
The first time that I went to Stir a week after its grand opening, I was irritated. I hated all of the messy stamps they made me and my girlfriends wear in order to get in, and ordered a $14 drink at the bar that I mistook for a $3 bottle of OceanSpray Cranberry Juice seeing as I couldn't have tasted a hint of vodka in it. After managing to be groped and catcalled even though I had came from work and looked far from my best, I asked myself, Where did my beloved Indebleu go?
Well, after bad talking Stir for the past six months, I decided to go back last night when some friends of mine decided to get bottle service there. And, yes, I do feel guilty now. The chic white-on-white layout had me thinking I was in Miami for a hot sec (not quite, but it does look great), and the small size caters to an intimate, Euro feel that gives off the charm of any boutique club on the Champs D'Elysees. The bottle girl was friendly and helpful, the DJ played the perfect balance of house, old skool hip-hop, and top 40 tracks, but most importantly, the crowd was one of the best I've seen at any DC club in a while. Not to be superficial (but it's a nightclub, come on people! If you don't want superficial, go hang out in a Dunkin' Donuts), but the classy, good-looking, and diverse group of individuals would make any mannered individual comfortable despite their ethnicity. What I liked most about Stir is that it was not a Persian or Black or White party, but was the perfect integration of classy, hot people ready for some partying. 
My only complaint? The chubby man standing on the banquet spraying smoke at the crowd like it was a fire extinguisher (If we were in Rhode Island, it probably would have been a fire extinguisher). I have seen smoke machines going off during the climax of house tracks before, but really?! You need someone to actually spray it? I don't know... But that's minute in compared to the great time I had. 
(And, because I'm post-mono, didn't even drink and STILL had this great time there!)
XO-
Angela
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9.17.2009

What's French and Gay and Skinny all over?


First, it was Gwen Stefani. Then, it was Lady Gaga. Now, my musical obsession of the moment has shifted gears to the French singing sensation constantly doted on by Perez Hilton. Known as Sliimy by the world of entertainment, Yanis Sahraoui started recording music in high school with there not being all that much to do in his Saint-Etienne suburb of Lyons. Always having a knack for vocal ability and self-expression but also being shy and introverted at the same time, Sliimy (pronounced "slim-y", not slimy) found music to be the ultimate means of emotional release. Despite being French, he prides himself on his interest in Anglo culture and only sings in English for that very reason (or, let's be honest, for the fact that he'll probably sell a lot more records. Who is he kidding?), donning himself on stage in plaids, bow ties, golfer shoes, and other London-esque accessories. Skinny, unassuming, and speaking in interviews with an adorable French accent, Sliimy reminds me of someone I would love to have as a best friend. Plus, he's inspired me to open up my French workbooks again after not being able to understand anything in his interviews despite my years and years of studying his native tongue. 
His debut album, "Paint Your Face", which was released this week resembles something that they would play inside an Urban Outfitters, which would normally irritate me, but after listening to the CD one time through makes me want to shed my lip liner and Ed Hardy and embrace the hipster look. His pop-funk sound is original, relaxing, and as the title suggests, colorful. Most importantly, though, it's not overly deep and all-around happy. I definitely respect poets and musicians, but sometimes don't really want to think when I listen to music and Sliimy entertains me without having to use too many brain cells. Plus, his music videos are adorable and remind me of something out of Reading Rainbow or Mr. Roger's Neighborhood (Check YouTube for "Wake Up", a clay-mation inspired piece that you can't help but smiling when watching). 
Despite being a voice minor in college myself, Sliimy's music proves the fact that you don't need voice lessons to be a talented singer. His asexual tonal quality reminds me of the likes of Prince during the "Purple Rain" era. "My God" conjures sultry Amy Winehouse-esque guitar rifts, while "Trust Me" actually makes emo music seem the slightest bit acceptable. Even hotter, Sliimy performs an impressive cover of Britney's "Womanizer" that will be sure not to disappoint.  
With flu season and the September slump getting to the best of everyone lately, I promise Sliimy will leave you smiling, or at least with some good make out music the next time you have that special someone over.
Love,
Angela