As most of you know, about a week ago I embarked on a 26 hour road trip with my mom to officially make my move down to Miami where I’ll begin law school next week. The first few days were extremely stressful to say the least. Long story short , getting re-situated is rarely a smooth process and this was no exception. However, now that things have settled down and I have a little spare time before my intense studies really begin, I wanted to take a minute to give you guys a peek into my new world down here! Below are pictures of my new home, as well as some showcasing a fun afternoon in South Beach with my family. 

“Welcome to my home!” Don’t judge the awful photo, I was getting over a brief touch of heat stroke from being outside on a 100 degree day. 

My super high, Florida-inspired bed. It goes to my waist so I step on the side board to climb in at night. 

My beautiful and very spacious dresser. As you can see, this photo was taken while in the midst of doing my hair. 

Displaying some pride for both my sister and I’s schools. She brought me this piggy bank made out of a coconut as a house warming gift! I use it to collect my quarters in for laundry. 

Not the most exciting photo but I had to show off the homemade fishbowl that now serves as a makeshift “bangle bowl” that I made with the one and only, Jill Thurston. 

Awkward lighting to show off my nightstand. The remote on top works for my high tech fan. I can turn it off/on or up/down without even moving from my bed. 

Hello Kitty showing off her U of Miami pride! (and serving as a constant reminder of the wonderful Katherine Sullivan and our special kitty bound)

This is the view from the door of my bedroom. The genius who built it didn’t install a light fixture so I’m forced to resort to using a tall lamp. 

My dream come true! The inside of my walk-inn closet. My favorite feature of the apartment. 

My only complaint is that there isn’t adequate space for all my shoes. Many of them were left behind and the ones that made it are forced to live on a closet floor- awful!

My non-exciting bathroom. For as plain as it looks, you wouldn’t believe how long it took my mom and I to decide on a shower curtain. 

The only cool aspect of the bathroom is the artwork I selected for the wall! Marilyn is forever classy. 

My quaint dining room, perfect for a dinner party for four or an intense game of Clue (housed in the cabinet below the table). 

It also operates as a makeshift study desk. Here, I was working on briefing my very first case! It would be exciting, if I had any idea what I was doing… 

My little kitchen. We chose red appliances to try and make it not so dreary. 

We also added some chicken-themed decor to make it more fun.

My living room where I watch tacky morning shows while drinking orange juice before I leave for school in the AM. The quilt on the side was handmade for me by my wonderful Aunt Honey. 

The other half of my room with my loveseat and tv. 

This is the beautiful orchid that my realtor gave me upon moving in. We’ll see how long the thing lasts under my care. I give it two weeks. 

And to finish it off, a picture of my mom, sister, and I spending time in South Beach. Attempting to get a shot of us in the waves resulted in being soaked in some uncomfortable places. But it was definitely nice to have them here! 

I wish all of you the absolute best as you embark on new journeys or continue on your current path! I’ll be keeping it touch with what Miami brings for me! :) Xo

I chose to dedicate the recent long weekend entirely to myself. By that I mean that instead of celebrating the independence of either North American nation, I celebrated my new-found personal independence instead. All that was missing was a personalized “Mathri” flag and some fire crackers. 

The tale of “Monogamous Mathri” lasted about as long as I expected it to. Its no surprise to me (and most others around) that although I made a brief stop in the Land of the Committed, Single Town will always be my preferred place of residence. So let me take this time to officially welcome myself back to my bachelorette lifestyle. My, how I’ve missed you so! 

One of the big issues I have with being in a relationship is the looming feeling that I’m missing out on something when I’m in one. I know that’s “not how it’s supposed to be” and I should love spending every waking moment with my significant other but, bleh. All you relationship gurus can shut your yaps - its just not for me. I mean, who really wants the adoration and attention of just one man when you can have it from so many more? 

Anyways, my newly single life has found me “fraternizing” with a new type of male I’ve never encountered before- the Rebound Rock-star (RR). He’s a rare breed of rock poet sex God that leaves you tingly in all the right places with just one look. 

I recently chatted about all things boys with my sister. While she was busy defending her “perfect relationship”, I was secretly waiting for her to shut up so I could dish out the latest updates about my RR. Like any girl, one of the first things she wanted to see was a picture of this so-called sex God and I immediately sent one of my faves directly to her inbox. 

To cut things short, she was less than impressed and definately didn’t share my enthusiasm for his somewhat *alternative looks. Although I highly value her opinion, we  never have and (most likely) never will share the same feelings toward guys so I didn’t let this bother me. In fact, I found discovering confusion and hatred toward the RR made him all the more enticing. 

I’ve been criticized by my friends and family in the past for always closing myself off to nice guys. Time and time again, I find myself temporarily broken hearted or ranting about how I can’t seem to figure out my douche of the week. While this does grow tiresome, I have a confession to make. My most recent relationship was with the epitome of a nice guy. We’re talking the whole romantic message-writing, flower-sending, compliment-exuding type of guy that most girls dream about.

Now, I’m not saying I don’t enjoyed being adored or that it wasn’t refreshing to be appreciated for all things great that I know I am for once, but… I just couldn’t handle it. Instead of gushing over the romantic texts novels that I’d constantly wake up to, I found myself cringing and skimming over their bulk. To put things blank, what the nice guy’s selling- I ain’t buying.

Back to the RR. He’s the opposite of everything the stereotypical “perfect boy” is. He’s the guy your mom would drop dead over if you ever brought him home. He’s the long-haired, tattooed, heavy metal vocalist that screams “I’m trouble”. He’s the picture perfect rebound. 

Incorporating the RR into my life has led to some interesting developments. For example, if you would have told me a month ago that I would soon find myself sitting on a dingy couch inside a makeshift recording studio while listening in on a heavy metal band rehearsal, I would have been certain you had the wrong girl. But I gave it a try anyway, and felt like a ridiculous groupie the entire time. I don’t think my appreciation for that specific genre of music came through by my incessant laughter during their entire set, but hey no one’s perfect. 

Besides being a great month for a steamy rock-star affair, July is also fabulous for shopping! As the summer season begins to come to a close, all your favorite stores are sure to be offering some superb sales. I recently furthered the celebration of my independence by nabbing up a retro-print maxi skirt at one of my favorite boutiques. What better way to start up a scandalous summer fling than with a sexy new wardrobe, right? Too bad I’ve been trying to practice shopping celibacy… 

Besides being present at awkward band rehearsals, I also found myself sitting down at an upscale dinner-for-two with said RR this week. I’m not certain ritzy dates are customary to rebound affairs but there was a bottle of wine involved so I felt it ill-mannered to pass up. Five glasses later, I was buzzed and having a great time - conversing almost entirely with myself. 

Anyways, I’ve told myself embarking on this little “situation” is mandatory for great writing material and scandalous stories. No need to thank me, getting drunk and being pined after are two of my favorite pastimes. 

Until next time, may your weekend be full of steamy rock Gods and several glasses of poison! Xo 

Every Monday is a holiday in Girl World. From the hours of 8-10 pm, you’ll only find me snuggled up on my couch with one of my besties, inhaling trays of cupcakes while swooning over the perfect love life that we don’t have. I’m talking about the  Bachelorette of course, where one lucky girl gets to date 25 losers successful men while traveling the world in the most expensive wardrobe. 

This season’s it-girl is Emily Maynard, soft-spoken single mom who hails from Charlotte, North Carolina. When I’m not hating on Emily for her flawless complexion and total MILF bod, you’ll find me intensely scrutinizing her overpriced horse teeth. That aside, anyone who drops the f-bomb while telling off a douchy pretty boy gets the stamp of approval in my books. 

Anyway, since Emily goes through men faster than tampons, we’ve already reached the crucial hometown date week where we get to see whose family is the most fucked. This also means, her once vast selection pool has dwindled down to a mere four boys- how depressing. Since after this week Emily will be that much closer to honing in on her future “husband”, I felt it was the perfect time for me to share my thoughts concerning each of her remaining beaus. Too bad Emily couldn’t have read this prior to making her choice. I feel it could have offered her some serious insight. 

Arie:

Pros: He drives a race car which is totally hot, he made it out of Dollywood alive, and he dated a producer which means he likes to get a bit risky. 

Cons: Someone needs to alert him that its called kissing, not swamp diving; and his name would be so much cooler if it was pronounced like the zodiac sign. 

Jef:

Pros: He’s school-boy cute, he likes to play with puppets and he can ride a skateboard. 

Cons: He’d totally steal your favorite pair of knee-socks (without even asking), and his parents forgot the other consonant in his name - proving brains likely don’t run in the family. 

Sean: 

Pros:He’s the perfect Ken to her Barbie, he could pass as Ricki’s dad, and I don’t hate staring at his muscles. 

Cons: He creepily stalked the streets of Croatia screaming her name all for a midnight game of tonsil hockey, and he’s totally never had a girlfriend - “selective” my ass. 

Chris: 

Pros: His pearly whites almost match Em’s and he has a temper which is decently hot. 

Cons: His nasely voice needs to go, there is such a thing as too many man-tears, and he totally got the pity rose. TURN OFF. 

Setting my personal biases aside, I’m pretty sure it will come down to Arie and Sean with her ultimately choosing Arie. I can’t decide whether I prefer Jef or Sean, but kinda hope she picks neither so I can make the decision for myself (knee-socks and all).

Who do you think Emily chooses? Who’s your favorite and why? 

Happy viewing! Xo 

Whether your summer is full of excitement or more on the dull side, its always important to take a few minutes during the week to reflect back on what you’ve experienced lately. Here are a few lessons that my past week has brought to my attention:

1. I will never be capable of maintaining my own eyebrows. Accepting this defeat will be a crucial moment of awakening. 

2. If by chance you find yourself having snipped off a patch of your eyebrow, a good brow pencil will quickly become your best friend.

3. If your name rhymes with Shark, you’re immature. 

4.Break-up shopping spree > break-up sex. 

5. When leaving a classy golf course in nothing but a stolen towel, you’ll receive a mixture of cat calls and death glares. 

Best wishes for the week ahead! Xo 

This is one of those gutless confession posts where you admit to doing something that’s more than likely frowned upon but at least resulted in a story to tell. Doing something bad for the entertainment of others cancels out the negative portion, right? Who knows, maybe I can ‘Hail Mary’ my way out of this one. 

I have to start by relaying my thoughts concerning Father’s day. I must admit, Father’s day is always marked as an obligatory drag on my social events calendar (yes, my social events calendar is severely lacking, what’s your point?). Each year I find that second Sunday of June creeps up on you at a time when you’re either financially lacking or just feeling slighted. Perhaps its not this way for everyone. I’m sure there are loads of you out there that are overjoyed to purchase your Dad the latest addition for his macho hobby and express your appreciation for all that he does. 

Well, let me tell you a few things about my Dad. First off, let’s talk about hobbies. The typical dad engages in some sort of manly/outdoorsy activity, usually along the likes of golfing, fishing, hunting, etc. If none of those strike your old man’s fancy, he likely enjoys using his hands to put together cabinetry, perform small home renovations, or detail his luxurious vehicle while parked in the driveway. 

My Dad does none of these things. In fact, he doesn’t know HOW to do any of these things. When asked about his hobbies, he generally orchestrates some strand of BS about God knows what, when in reality the only thing remotely close to a hobby that he has is collecting eggs from our shameful backyard chicken coop.

Another thing worth mentioning about the man of the hour is his inability to be pleased by gifts. The guy is never happy with what he receives. This was solidified the Christmas I was 9 years old when he responded to my gift of a quirky hot pepper tie by telling me it was “tacky”. He’s famous for running the “I don’t need any presents, don’t buy me anything” line, when really he’s more materialistic than Paris Hilton. 

So this Father’s day I found myself once again, roaming the aisles of several stores, racking my brain for another satisfactory gift. I couldn’t buy him clothes. Yes, although his sense of fashion is equivalent to that of Mr. Rogers, the expensive threads I’ve bought him in the past never seen to make it out of his closet. In fact, just last week I found one of his name brand dress shirts stuffed under our barbeque next to a pair of blue jeans circa 1960. 

Faced with such a challenge, I stumbled upon what I felt was actually a decent gift and also slightly creative (insert bonus points for me). My parents live in a beautiful Victorian house on the countryside that overlooks our own pond complete with water fountain in the middle. During the summer months, my parents attempt to spend a significant amount of time outdoors (though you wouldn’t know it from the looks of our lawn), and seem to enjoy being among nature. Therefore, I thought it would be a perfect idea to give my Dad a one-person navigation boat and wooden paddle so he could set sail to the waters when in need of relaxation (ahem, this is frequent). I cleverly wrapped both the boat and paddle so they looked exciting yet mysterious and awaited Father’s day morning when I would present them to my Dad.

The morning began as I could have expected. My mom barged into my room while my eyes were still closed to summon me downstairs to cook breakfast for the guest of honor. I waited what seemed like five minutes (checking my emails and tweets) until she walked in once again. This time, she informed me that my dear old Dad had made plans to go for breakfast with his neighborhood buddies. A plan put in place, no doubt so he could play the whole “No one did anything for me this Father’s day” card. Cue serious eye roll.

Amused at best, I picked my groggy ass up and went downstairs to begin my famous scrambled eggs. A few minutes later the gift giving commenced and he feverishly shook my box attempting to guess its contents. Needless to say, he convinced himself I’d bought him a bottle of alcohol from my recent vacation to Cuba and was less than impressed to discover he was wrong. While his reaction wasn’t as negative as I’d expected, he did make sure to tell my mom what a great gift the boat was for her and how she would love to go outside and sail around in it. Mhmm… because it’s Mother’s day too, right? 

The boat and paddle were set aside to open my sister’s card and gift (an inspirational audio book which I promise you will never be used, but re-gifted). The “day’s” duties were pretty much done. I’d covered breakfast and the gift and I had to get going to work, something I was not at all ungrateful for. 

I suppose you’re wondering what the point to this whole story is. I started out saying it was a confession to an ill act, and I don’t intend to let on otherwise. You see, that cute little boat and paddle has sat in the same exact spot for almost three days now. Hasn’t moved an inch, is still partially wrapped, and no attention has been directed toward it.

So as I found myself in a particularly cranky mood, I recalled last year’s Father’s day gift. My sister and I had constructed a one-of-a-kind wilderness survival kit, full of all the gadgets you could ever need if lost in the woods. I began remembering how cool it was and all the exciting things that were put in it. And then the thought crossed my mind. “What ever happened to that thing?”

It didn’t take me long to discover its hiding place. A quick visit out to the garage revealed its place on a forgotten shelf. There it sat, $100 of our hard-earned money- Never. Used. Once.

If you can’t guess where this is going, let me help you out. It didn’t take long for me to realize my Dad will never use any gift he is given, least of all a navigation boat. Before I could stop myself, I somehow made my way upstairs and began digging through receipts in my purse. Perhaps the most excitement I’ve had all summer occurred when I realized I still had two whole days to return both items for a full refund. Guess where my car ended up ten minutes later? 

So yes, I’m the terrible daughter who returned her Dad’s Father’s day present a mere three days after it was given. Do I feel remorseful or guilty? Well, not at the moment but give it a few days. Maybe something will kick in (yea, right). If you ask me, this act should not be considered one of wrong doing but rather an expression of a lesson put into practice. I mean, my Dad always taught me not to waste right? You can pretty much say the return was his idea, I was just following orders. Xo 

As I find myself sitting around on yet another low key summer afternoon, I’ve decided the time has come for me to make a triumph return to blogging… for the second time. However, when I reopened my old blog for the first time in months, I felt as if I was blowing dust off an old book that had eternally landed itself on a forgotten bookshelf. Glancing over my old posts that I used to think were so ingenious no longer gave me the sense of pride they once had. Therefore, since my life has recently taken a giant U-turn, I decided I should commemorate this change with the creation of a new digital diary to capture all the ramblings of the ever-so-slightly revised me. Cue 10-second recap of the last several months:

1. I’m a graduate! *Ra-Ra-Sis-Boom-Bah!*     I DID IT! A few weeks ago, I celebrated the completion of four successful years at my beloved Brock University. It was about as exciting as you can imagine a two-hour convocation ceremony to be, but I pretended to at least slightly enjoy myself as I paraded around in my floor length gown and snakeskin heels. Perhaps the greatest accomplishment of the day was not completing my degree, but avoiding breaking an ankle by tripping over my designer Snuggie.

2. I’m a future MIAMI HURRICANE! Yes, I waved goodbye to one school while saying hello to a new one. I’m very excited to be attending the University of Miami School of Law this fall to pursue a JD degree. If you (like the rest of the world) would like to schedule a time to crash at my Carrie Bradshaw-inspired Miami pad, I’ve begun a waiting list. Please contact me via email for available times. Bribes are willingly accepted if you wish to negotiate.

3. I grew TWO inches! Just kidding. But wouldn’t that be wild? 

To conclude this post, I’d like to offer you some insight into a few things this summer has taught me. Feel free to comment back with your own. 

1. Having a day off is the equivalent to a 24-hour nightmare when you have no friends close by.

2. Accepting that you have no friends is not as hard as it seems. 

3. Chicken wings from Pizza Pizza are NEVER a good idea. No matter how large the craving, they will never be worth the $10 or 11 o’clock drive in the dark. 

4. Embarking on a two-week shopping hiatus is MUCH harder than it seems.

5. Having a dream that John Grisham will someday write a legal thriller centered around you is perfectly okay. 

6. Your mom loses the will to have fun when she’s on a diet.

Happy Summer to all of you! May your life be far more entertaining than mine. Xo