(*emphasis on like-minded! Having two X-chromosomes does not automatically garner my support. See: Republican Party 2008. Ahem, Sarah Palin!?!)
Which brings me to my recommendation today! I was approached this week by Cait Doyle, creator of a (certain to be awesome) new Off-Broadway musical titled "Hot Mess in Manhattan."
Sidenote: Every single time I think I am super creative and unique, it only takes a quick Google search to shatter that illusion. However, it is nice to know that I am in good company!
Much like me, she was disappointed to discover that adult life isn't as much brunches and Manolos as it is drunk dials and budgets. But unlike me, she parlayed her disappointment into a musical theater opportunity. Her goal is to fund the production via crowd funding via her Rockethub site. (and your contribution is tax deductible, yo!)
I immediately liked this girl. It was her sass, her determination, and maybe even the fact that I believe great minds think alike. So, I asked her if she would be interested in writing a guest post for Carrie Bradshaw Is Full of Sh*t. If you enjoy her as much as I did, check her out! (http://www.rockethub.com/projects/9168-hot-mess-in-manhattan-the-musical) And since I am now a Stanford Blatch Level Supporter, hopefully I will even see some of you at her show in NYC later this year!
Carrie Bradshaw Lied (and Coupons Suck): a Blog Post by Cait Doyle
Living in NYC is the most expensive thing ever. As a girl who grew up across the river in Jersey I was slightly more prepared then my friends who only knew of NYC through watching 'Sex and the City' but it was still, admittedly, a shock. How does Carrie afford that gorgeous brownstone (that is now on sale for almost 10 MILLION dollars)? How does she drink 15 dollar cosmos, buy 4,000 dollar pairs of shoes, and never have take the subway? I'm not entirely sure what her job is.. from the looks of it she types a paragraph a day on a laptop wearing only underwear & a tank top every day for 5 minutes. and on my best day I'm sweating my balls off on the packed subway and crying into $3 dollar pints at night.
One day, suffering through a particularly bad hangover (I woke up to my bed looking like a Taco Bell graveyard and WAY too many outgoing calls on my blackberry), I settled into my couch for a day of entirely too much reality TV & remorse when I found the solution to all my worldly concerns: EXTREME FRIGGIN' COUPONING.
With each episode of TLC's Extreme Couponing, my horror slowly turned into excitement. THIS was my answer. I would save 'thousands of dollars each month, and my savings account would grow'. My teensy Hell's Kitchen apartment cupboards would be bursting with glossy, name brand dry goods. I would never spend $7 dollars on a box of dusty bodega cereal again! With a twinkle in my eye, I would laugh off my incredulous friends asking how I do it. (While reapplying lip gloss, of which I have 75 more tubes of in a shoebox at home.) The only catch? Could extreme couponing, or any couponing at all, be possible in New York City?
Extreme Couponing turned me into a maniac; I was determined to prove that couponing was possible in the wilds of Manhattan. My blood coursed through my veins with a yen for things I never knew I so desperately needed: cases of dental floss & Oscar Meyer weiners. I gleaned everything I could from all the episodes, and then turned to Youtube for even more homemade (and truly frightening) coupon tutorials. I bought my binder and my baseball card sleeves. When my boyfriend was away for several days in Michigan and asked what I'd like as a souvenir, I replied "coupons" in a sharp, monotonous tone. It was my mission to call a large stack of dish-washing detergent my own. I don't own a dishwasher.
I'll save you the blow by blow of my "extreme couponing" week-and-one-day: there were highs, there were lows, there were paper cuts. Ultimately my sister & friends staged an intervention of sorts and snapped me out of it. I struggled so hard (for 8 days, shut up) because I so desperately wanted to figure out how to live like Carrie Bradshaw. How does she do it?
And since then I've come to terms with the fact that (as this blog so beautifully sums up) that 'Carrie Bradshaw is Full of Shit.' Period. End of story. In way more ways than her financial situation. My coupon breakdown, plus a few other sordid incidents including celebrity pet sitting, several gay boyfriends, a Creepy Craigslist Roommate inspired me to create a musical called "Hot Mess in Manhattan"- which besides being entertainment, became the outlet for my mission (as I say in show description) to spread the word that 'Carrie Bradshaw lied to us, gave half my friends eating disorders, and made us all watch a couple of bad movies.'
My best advice? If you're boyfriend ever asks what you'd like from a trip away, you should probably just ask for something with an alcohol percentage, NOT coupons.