dilemma.

how can i concentrate on this:

when these are calling my name?

my name is olivia and i am addicted to magazines. 

these are only half of the pile that began in july.

why do i need to read an article in entertainment weekly about "the stars' worst movies"?

i don't know.

i. just. do.

date nights

confession: being in the uk is amahzing and all, but dayyyyyum is it expensive. the usd to gbp exchange rate is tragic. because we're trying to save tons of moolah while here so we may lead temporary lives of leisure when we get back home to nyc, we have become cheapskates.

there is no easy way to say it.

oh, we still do tons of fun stuff like see the new musical matilda in the west end (fabulous and magical):

and dress up in harrods:

but more often than not, on our nights off, we have a hobo date.

yes, a hobo date.

what is a hobo date, you ask?

a hobo date is when we buy beer or hard cider and gross snacks from the newsagent on the corner, and then we rent a movie on itunes (this requires preparation as it always takes 10000 hours to download). then we sprawl out in our hotel room and eat things like prawn cocktail flavored pringles (yes, for real) while watching a movie on our laptop.

claaaaaaaaaaassy.

sorry for the terrible photo...RIP stolen iPhone. i miss you every day.

also, rich thinks it's important i mention we got discounted tickets for matilda by flashing our student IDs....you know....the ones from our first day of college....in 2004. 

we just don't look anyone in the eye.

and now a huge bag of haribo gummy candy + melancholia (you know, a delightful film about the apocalypse) are calling my name.

night night lovelies!

a little bit of this, a little bit of that

the last week in random/embarrassing/awesome iphone snaps:

rich and i have very different ideas about acceptable dinner beverage sizes:

 look at the following pictures and guess if we have been in the hotel room pictured for:

a. 3 minutes

b. 3 hours

c. 3 days

(answer at the bottom)

a: 3 hours. 

oops.

i don't know what's worse: 

the fact that i have no pants on in the first pic,

the peanut butter smeared knife and pile of picked off gel manicure in the second, 

or the subway trash on the floor in the fourth.

we are nomads, ok? we can't help ourselves.

m & s aka marks and spencer is a store that simultaneously sells groceries, clothing, and these beauties:

i told rich I could not go to breakfast with him anymore because I cannot eat one more bowl  of yogurt with muesli. He went without me, and came back with this:

yes, for all of my "blah blah vegetarianism blah blah green juice blah blah probiotics"

i effing love burger king fries.

not only did i eat them, but i ate them in bed.

like a reallllllll champion.

we're in london for the next 48 hours and will do our best to limit our wagamama intake.

toodle ooo, dearies!

V.I.T.

Very. Important. Things.
I NEED to have the following items with me at all times.
There are other items I feel I can't live without,
like q tips (ohhhhhh, q tips),
but these are my non-negotiable, on-my-person, i-am-in-a-bad-mood-without-them necessities:

Not having sunglasses can essentially ruin my day. Dramatic? Yes. True? Basically.

Only Burt's Bees, only the original, only in the tube. I have loved Burt's Bees since it was only available in specialty shops and it only came in a tin. I've messed around with the honey and pomegranate and mango flavors, but they are all harlots who tried to get me to abandon my one true chapstick love.

I feel like everyone has one pet peeve that is universal but they are certain it affects them more than anyone else. Mine is hangnails. I. Cannot. Handle. Them. And I feel like I have them constantly. If I don't have a nail clipper, I have to buy one. Immediately. 


What prompted this post?

A day without the above items.

all images via: sunglasses, nail clipper, lip balm

next to normal

when your husband does what my husband does for a living, conversations like this are normal:

rich: i can't get my penis as far up my butt as i want when i'm making the vagina.

me: hmmm....maybe you should plie more at the start.

rich: good idea.

siiiiiiigh. 

when you're on tour...

...there comes a day.

a day when you cannot stand to live out of a suitcase anymore.

or wear the same jacket you have worn literally every day since july 16.

or move to a different premier inn every single night.

or eat another tuna sandwich from a gas petrol station.

or feel sort of grimy all the time.

or always have a messy bun of hair.

or be exhausted from constantly moving, 

and feeling guilty about that because your actual work in the theatre takes 3 hours.

a day when you hate everyone and everyone hates you because you are a walking thundercloud.

that day just inevitably comes.

we left nyc on july 16.

72 days ago.

today is almost exactly the halfway point.

so it makes sense that today is THAT day.

but then.

but then you think about what you would normally be doing on a sunday.

(i would be exhausted from working 5-6 bartending shifts 

over the last 4 days.)

and the fact that you are in glasgow, scotland

and it's raining

and you hate your clothes

and would kill for a good hair day

and would cry with joy to see your friends and family

seems to be more manageable.

is this such a downer of a second post?!?!?

just trying to keep it real, y'all.

being on tour is amazing.

the opportunity to travel is priceless.

getting paid in pounds sterling is excellent 

(sorry, usd, but you can't keep up).

but the truth is that there is always that

ONE DAY.

and that one day is almost over!

davidji and i are getting cozy in the ether and meditating together.

i will be writing a post about brighton.

i will be writing a gratitude list.

there will be a few more days, i'm sure.

but the hardest one, THAT DAY, is almost behind me.

yes!