Friday, September 30, 2011

'round here

I've given you some emo + wordy posts this week, friends. Thanks for hanging with me.
We're going to keep it casual today.

My friend Amber came over one evening last week wearing what looked to be two different shoes.
She got caught in the rain. One shoe dried and the other didn't. Pretty weird, huh?
You're not weird, Amber. We'll keep you.

We welcomed Fall with salted caramel apples. Fail.
The caramel was tough, the salt too salty.
We'll try again once we tweak the recipe.

Quickly becoming a fave over here... a healthy-ish parfait.
Kashi Crunch, vanilla yogurt and honey. Win.

New makeup makes my product-loving heart happy.
I love this quote. Good job, Nars.

My pal Julia sent me the sweetest surprise: an old timey looking tin filled with postcards.
Such a fun gift from my beautiful friend.

J's sister is coming to see us this weekend and we are so excited to see her.

Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather
 and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.
John Keats

That's exactly what we're looking for this weekend, Keats.
It's going to be a nice welcome to October. I can just feel it.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Questions Answered, part 2

Thank you so much for your kind + encouraging words yesterday on
The Hardest Post I've Ever Written Ever Ever.
It's amazing how freeing it is to admit you aren't perfect.
You are each rockstars in my book.

Q: If you could have a sibling, would you want a brother or a sister, and why?

I'd say a brother because I like the idea of having someone to stick up for you when kids at school are mean or when a boy breaks your heart or to teach you how to be all cool and rock 'n roll.

I'd say a sister because let's face it, that's suppose to be your built-in bff, right?
Someone to tell you that you really don't need to wear that dress, wear this one instead or to gossip about boys or to discuss Jonathan Taylor Thomas as it were.
Who, by the way, just turned 30. Woah.

Thankfully, my Dad took care of business when boys broke my heart and my Mama was/is my built-in best friend. Although I was probably too shy to tell her about my way obvious crush on JTT.

These girls make for some pretty great sisters, I must say.

Q: As an only child, are you totally spoiled and self-absorbed?
(That one is a joke. I don't think only children are like that.)

Ha! I know it's a joke, but I loved it!
Here's my take on being an only child.
The summary: we're just as self-absorbed as the next kid.

Q: What do you love most about yourself?

I thought this was a fitting question to address directly after all the self-absorption talk.
In general, I think it's so much harder for us to talk about our strengths.
We'll drone on and on for hours about things we can't do or things we don't like about ourselves.
The way that part of our body sags or dimples.
The way we can't cook or sew or dress like Suzy Q.
But ask us to tell you something we do well? We nearly freeze. A lot of us at least.
The flip side is we don't want to seem like braggart only children with inflated senses of self.
You don't have to be a genius to realize that if you talk about how awesome you are, you'll get a reputation for having a big, obnoxious head.

So how do you find balance?
I think it would help if we realized we aren't going to be perfect in everything, but we need to own the things we do well.
And be proud of them.

I am a good encourager.
And I like that about myself.

I dig my skin tone.
I tan easily and evenly and I kinda like that, too.

I've got pretty sweet handwriting.
Maybe I'll write you a letter and you can see for yourself.
Because I'm pretty stellar at writing letters and being thoughtful.

Okay, fine. Here's a little peak..

I'll stop now so I won't get the big head. I am an only child, you know.

More questions?
Email me. molly (dot) rigoloso (at) gmail (dot) com

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Keeping it the realest: The desire to change

I wonder if I can really do this.

Tell you this story and then do something about it.

Something tells me I must at least try.

I want to lose weight, but I will be honest, I don’t want to work hard for it.

And what I know about losing weight is that it takes a hell of a lot of work.

I’ve done it before with some success. It’s just time to get serious about it.

I’m not at my biggest, but I am by no means close to my ideal size or weight.

I have always struggled with weight. I hate even saying that. It sounds so cliché and generic, but it’s true.

Thoughts of not liking my weight took up residence in my mind a very long time ago.

Fourth grade.

That was the first time I knew I was a big girl. I don’t know what happened to my average sized third grade self, but come fourth grade, the width of my shoulders nearly equaled my height.

Okay, not really, but I remember this picture of some of my classmates and me on the front steps of our elementary school. I was in a class with the tiniest girl in our grade and stood behind her in the picture. She was so damn little with wispy white blond hair. I was easily twice her size.

I didn’t even realize it at that point. It wasn’t until a boy (isn’t it always about a boy) called me out good and proper. And of course, he was the cutest boy in my whole grade. I think I accidentally stepped on his foot. He looked at me and said something similar to “Geez, how much do you weigh anyway?”

I knew from that point on.

Sixth grade.

I was getting a little taller which was helping the broad shoulders, but I was still heavy. Remember that time of the school year when you had to go the nurses’ station to have your eyesight and height and weight checked? I dreaded that day like the plague. I was a bright kid, paid attention in class and all, but when Weigh Day came, you could forget it. My heart would race as I would wait for my name to be called. If they had only taken blood pressure at that age, mine was probably out of control. Thankfully, we had the sweetest school nurse ever. She probably saw the fear on my face a mile away, so when I asked if I had to be weighed, she smiled so sweetly and shook her head No.

Sweet relief flooded my sixth grade self.

And it lasted for about 2 days.

Apparently, the school nurse had a couple high school girls come over to our school to do the perfunctory tests on any kids that missed school on Weigh Day, or as it were, to fill in any blanks missed on the charts.

And I had a blank, remember? A blank okayed by the nurse, but the high schoolers weren’t buying it.

I went hot all over as I stood up on that scale. The number didn’t mean anything to me. I didn’t know what a normal girl my age was suppose to weigh. I just knew I exceeded it. That boy in fourth grade told me so.

Ninth grade.

Finally my broad shoulders gave me a break. I was slim in all the right parts and curvy in all the right places, too. Boys began paying me attention in a good way. The cutest boy in my grade wanted to be my boyfriend, instead of wanting to humiliate me. I was a great size and healthy, too, but I still felt like I was the big girl. All the attention in the world couldn’t ease that feeling.

College and Beyond.

Sometime after college, my weight began to increase and did so steadily. When Justin and I married, I was happy with my size, but within the next two years, I would reach my heaviest weight. Not my proudest moment. I joined Weight Watchers and had great success. 33 lbs lost to be exact.

And then I went back to what was comfortable and easy. Here I am today wishing I had stuck with the program because I loved it and I rocked it out.

The bad memories of people being cruel go on and on. I hate those memories. I could chronicle them here for you, but there’s no point, really.

So kids were cruel to me. Big deal. Don’t we all have some version of that story to tell?

I am 28 years old and I am ready to beat this game.

If I don’t try to beat it now, once and for all, I fear I will battle it all my life.

And that thought sickens me more than all the cruel things that were ever said.

I know food will have to be a part of my life forever, I am just ready to put it in it's rightful place and quit allowing it to reign over me.

Just so we’re straight… I don’t blame the people who said cruel things to me for my weighty issues. I am the sole keeper of my body and blame no one other than myself.

So what are you going to do, Molly?

Are you going to listen to all the lies that You Can’t Do This? Because you won’t succeed if you believe you can’t.

What would happen if you actually believed You Could Do It?

You’ve just got to want it bad it enough to do something about it.

A while back, a great friend said these words to me: Until your desire to change becomes greater than your desire to remain the same, nothing will change.

My hands are going to tremble as I attempt to hit Publish.

I don’t want to post this and yet I do at the same time.

I know we each have our struggles. It just sucks that people who struggle with their weight, whether they are heavy or skinny, wear their struggle publicly for everyone to see.

My hope is that publishing this tale will help motivate me to do what I need to do.

And that if you are reading this and any of it makes sense to you... you will know you are not alone.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

The New York Molly

New York Molly walks boldly into the street to hail a cab.
Trying to catch a cab standing on the sidewalk will leave you cabless all day.

New York Molly raises her voice when the need be.
Like ordering Starbucks with 50 other strong New York accents.

New York Molly pushes her way through the tiny market.
Leisurely strolls are for Central Park. Not the one foot wide aisle of the bodega.

New York Molly doesn't stop and chill in the middle of the sidewalk.
Sidewalks are roadways for walking commuters.
If you need to stop, pull to the side, preferably with your back to the wall.

New York Molly will calculate the appropriate tip for the captain and the waiter.
And I mean in a restaurant, not a ship.

New York Molly promises that the best days are the unplanned ones.
When you walk these streets and stumble upon a coffee shop where you don't have to yell to be heard.

New York Molly can hang with a rough and tumble New York crowd.
But then she'll offer them a glass of sweet tea.

City and Southern.
It's a pretty sweet gig for New York Molly.

ps... Welcome new sponsor, Sarah from spoonful!
Sarah's blog was one of the very first I began reading and remains one of my faves.
Go see Sarah. She's a brilliant woman + wife + mama. I think you'll dig her. I certainly do.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Questions Answered

First of all, thank you guys for asking such great questions.

Justin even got his own personal question which was awesome by the way.
I'll see if I can hornswoggle him into writing a little guest post.
He's the best storyteller I know, so even if he writes for you guys, I'll secretly be wishing we were altogether somewhere so you could get the full experience of a Justin story.
Like maybe sitting around a campfire with old quilts and adult hot chocolate and stars.

Until then, friends, you get me and the old blog!
I'll be answering your questions a couple days a week, maybe more maybe less,
until they are all answered and you are all happy.

If you think of something else you want to ask, go for it.
I've closed out the comments on the original post, so you can no longer ask questions there.
Email me instead. molly (dot) rigoloso (at) gmail (dot) com

And away we go.
Q: Since you and Justin are both only children, would you consider just having one MiniRigo?
Then you could stay in NYC and afford an au pair!!! It's a fool proof plan.

A MiniRigo?! That's the cutest thing I've ever heard.
I've always pictured myself being a mother to many.
The actual number has wavered through the years from 5 to 3 to 4.
I don't know how many we'll have, but Justin and I both agree that we want children.
More than one and probably more than two.

Please remember that I loved my childhood as an only child and I wouldn't change that for anything. Nor would I ever want my parents to think I wish they'd made a different decision regarding children because I don't.

I do, however, have this dream of a house filled with kids. All different ages. Coming in and going out.
A big, wooden farmhouse table with everyone gathered 'round from young to old.
Some feet not even able to touch the floor yet.
Artwork scattered. Music playing. Something yummy simmering on the stove.
Rocking babies because they are mine and I can rock them if I want to.

I had this very experience with my own family of three.
Our house was always open. Music played. Delicious food consumed.
It was home and it was warm and welcoming and you wanted to stay awhile.
What I learned from my childhood is that I want to create that sense of home and family whether we have one child or five. Whether they are biological or not. Whether they share my same skin tone or even if they don't.

I look at Justin sometimes and think, There's no way our kids will escape dark, curly hair.
But I'll tell you what else I think about having kids with my man...
He'll be one hell of a dad.
I don't hope it or wish it or cross my fingers for it.
I know it.
And honestly, it makes me want to get all Michelle Duggar on you and have about 18 of them.
M+J with our godson, Herreson, as a wee babe

J and sweet Caroline, daughter of some great friends

The idea of raising children in NYC is fancy and boasts many a temptation.
The culture! The seasons! Central Park!
But I think the Rigoloso family may have relocated by the time MiniRigos come into the picture.

Justin's at work right now as I sit here blogging on our microsuede buttercream corporate apt couch.
Here's a conversation we just had via text as I typed this post.
It's too rich not to share...

M: How many kids to you want?
J: Are you at the store now about to pick some up?
M: No, but I am answering blog reader questions.
J: Enough for us to be able to get our own reality show.
J: But for reals... 2 or 3.

I wonder how he feels about 18.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Sharing Secrets + Acting Official

Hello Friends!

I've been pondering a little Questions and Answers gig here on my ole blog for a while now.
My friend Lady Lee recently did it. My pal Elizabeth did it.
The thing is... Blogger Q&As feel very bloggery official.
I don't feel famous or fabulous or fierce. I just feel like me.
Okay, maybe I feel a little fabulous and fierce.
But several of you have been asking questions lately via email, via twitter.
Really, really good questions.
I began to think... if there are a handful of you being curious and vocal, then there may be another handful being curious and silent.

So let's do this thing, shall we?
Here's how we'll play...
You ask the questions. Anything you want to know.
I'll hide the comments so only my Rigoloso brown eyes will read them.
And then, tada!
I will do my best to answer them honestly (in future posts) and maybe even make you laugh a little along the way.

I'll even start with a sneak peek into random products I love... because I am sure you are all dying to know what kind of deodorant I use.

I love Tom's products. This fresh apricot deodorant is new to me, but I love it.
It smells good, but it also works. As in, I still smell good all day long. Done.
Method body wash in Refresh Mint.
This makes me feel so fresh and so clean clean.
The scent can wake me up, but it can also relax me.
So basically I am telling you that this body wash is a genius.

OLAY night of olay firming cream.
When my friend Al was in town we talked products.
Her Bobbi Brown makeup girl told her we women should have started using an anti-wrinkle cream
at the ripe age of 20. Twenty.
I can't remember all the thoughts I had as a 20-year-old sorority girl,
but I can promise you visions of face firming cream did not dance in my head.
I'm giving this $6 OLAY a go before I invest in Bobbi.
No offense, Ms Brown, LYLAS.
I think I may have found one of my Fall nail colors.
Sephora by OPI, My Personal Serpent, an opaque dark teal.
My friend Hillary introduced me to L'Occitane products and I fell in love instantly.
The Amande shower oil almost makes me look forward to shaving my legs.
Which I do

So now it's your turn. This face won't lie.

You Ask. I'll Tell.

ps... I'll give you all weekend to drill me. Think of something on Saturday? On Sunday? Come on back and ask it.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Allison in the City

Meet my friend Allison.
We have been friends since grad school orientation.
When J and I got engaged, I called Allison and said, Rally the troops.
She called our circle of friends, gathered everyone at her apt, we showed up,
and they toasted us with gas station champagne.
Allison's a classy girl, but the gas station was the only store open that late at night.
It is probably one of my favorite memories of our entire engagement.
Needless to say, this girl is one of the dearest people in my life.

Allison lives in New Orleans, but made time for a little trip to the East Coast
to hang with us and kick off her birthday week NYC style.
We always pick up where we left off and talk about everything from Bobbi Brown makeup to politics to the Kardashians to Charlie Sheen to the BP Oil Crisis.
You can tell we have PR backgrounds, no?

If you stop by Jacques Torres, skip the Ménage a Trios and get the Liquid Caramel with the rum twist.
I can be trusted in matters related to chocolate. Promise.

Allison has been to NYC several times before,
so we took the opportunity to explore different areas of Manhattan.
La Bottega Cafe has been on our hit list since the last time we wandered the streets of Chelsea.

The only downfall was Allison's Gin + Stormy tasting like soap. Strike one for La Bottega.
Everything else was tasty, tasty.
 The atmosphere was also really cool rocking orange lanterns and twinkley lights.

Skip the soapy Gin + Stormy and I think you will be happy.
ps... the meat and cheese and olive tray brought great redemption. Plus one, La Bottega.

A traditional NYC black + white waited on Al's pillow.
It's a regular ole Ritz here at The Rigoloso Apt.

Next up, we got crazy and went to see Spiderman.
The most expensive Broadway production in history.
Well worth it, friends, and that's coming from someone who barely even knew the Spiderman story.

Hot dogs from a street vendor can be hit or miss.
Thankfully, this day they were a huge hit.
We had some big shopping to do (think H&M + Zara) and we needed some additional fuel.
Sidenote, J likes to call H&M "Hot & Modern."  He's our in-house funnyman.

Introducing Al to Grand.

Our fancy fance girls' dinner at The Hurricane Club.

Peking Duck Sammies / Croque Monsieur Spring Rolls / Coconut Shrimp /
PB & Guava J with Proscuitto / Tuna Tartare / Samoan Deviled Eggs


Oh you wanted to see an upclose of my dress? Why, thanks!
ASOS, friends. It makes me feel sassy. I might just have to go dancing in it.
Al gifted me with that rockstar orangey clutch.
ps... I am leaning heavy into the orangey this Fall.


Toasting my sweet Al before she returned to NOLA.
I think it's safe to say we celebrated her birthday in true New York style.

I beat even the Kardashians are jeal they don't have an Al in their lives.
As they should be.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

What I know to be true

Last week, I wrote about wanting to believe the truth about who I am.

Welcome to my stream of consciousness on a few things I know to be true...

I know that I am talented.
I know that I have something to offer this world.
I know I don't like to use the dishwasher.
I know Justin thinks that's bananas.
I know that I like creamer in my coffee and that espresso is not my fave.
I know that dark times in life are unavoidable.
But I know that there is Hope.
I know there is music for my every mood.
I know the well-worn leather of my Dad's old green Ford like I know my own name.
The way my Mama tucks her hair behind her ears when she talks on the phone.
The sleepy look on Justin's face when the day is just dawning.
I know that holding a new baby in your arms is like holding a piece of heaven.
I know I want to write more.
I know I miss Sonic Happy Hour and Chick-fil-a so very much.
I know that kindness is never wasted.
I know I want to have Justin's babies.
I know that laughter is my favorite form of medicine.
I know that friends make my life rich.
And so does wine.
I know that I am not perfect.
But I know that I am loved.

And the cool thing is... you are talented and strong and worthy of love, too.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

What's your secret?

letterpress cards at the UWS flea

I need to tell you a secret.

My email inbox is stressing me out.

I have a really hard time deleting anything unless it's outright spam.

Justin, however, will delete an email faster than you can say lickety split. I'm a little jealous at the ease with which he can do this and think nothing of it.

I have folders, ahem, 62 of them, that create some form of organized chaos, but even then I have a difficult time moving emails to their designated spot.

I leave mail open because it bears some form of importance, and then I am left with 500 things all yelling about their importance every time I open gmail.

Tell me what you do? I know there's got to be a better way.

Monday, September 19, 2011

To the flea we did go

A couple weekends ago, Justin and I hit up the flea market on the Upper West Side.
I love a good flea and this was a great one.

We found many a treasure.

glass bottles + old, very loved toy cars + assorted knobs

Books of old postcards which reminded me I want to bring the postcard back...
such a sweet + simple way to say hello i love you i miss you.

T-shirt ties... my 8-year-old self just died a little.
This would have been heaven to me circa 1991.

So many books that made my heart sing.
I saw this table and tweeted Lady Lee and E, saying I need you here with me. Now.

Letterpress cards, I will be back to buy more of you.
I think I could even sweet talk the letterpresser himself into letting me take a few pics of his process.
I'll let you know how it goes.

Strong competition for the books? The baubles.
Like those old postcards, I bet these beauties have stories to tell.

Hi! Want to come home with me?

Then there was this dude, quite the character.
He is passionate about scavenging for glass bottles.

Baubled, chic chandys. Ooh la la.

I think this pretty bowl wanted to come home with us too.
I could just see it catching the mail and keys and ipods.
When I bring back the postcard, I think I will also bring back the hanky.
I suppose that's the old soul in me talking.

Next time, we'll stop by Trop Pops as we stroll along.

And I might just sport a t-shirt tie while I'm at it.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Claiming it

"One belongs to New York instantly,
one belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years."
Thomas Wolfe

Thursday, September 15, 2011

the very loud voices of my own fears

I want to believe the truth over and over again, but half the time, I don't listen.

I turn my head and walk briskly away, nearly running an all-out sprint, believing the ugly lies.

That I'm not enough. That I never will be.

Sometimes the lies scream. They scream so loud and so long and so often that I finally go weak and limp into the belief that the lies are the truth.

I want to listen to the truth. I want to hear it out. I don't want to run away.

I want to let the truth sing louder than the screams.

Knowing what's true and believing it deep down are two very different things.

I wonder what might happen if I dared to believe what I know to be true.


Well a long night turns into a couple long years
Of me walkin' around, around this trail of tears
Where the very loud voices of my own fears
Is ringin' and ringin' in my ears
patty griffin


My friend Candis wrote a beautiful post here with similar thoughts. We are kindred spirits if you didn't know.
There's also another beautifully written perspective here at The Wild and Wily Ways of a Brunette Bombshell.
It's good to know we are not alone and that we can walk this journey together, encouraging one another to believe, once and for all, the truth.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Wishing Well

So I told you about our friends Deanna + Scott & their recent trip to visit us.
We had a great time together as you can tell in the 50'leven pictures we took.
But what I really wanted to tell you about was this particular part of their trip...
I don't know what Deanna wished for, but later that very same day...

this happened.

And then this.
He asked her to marry him and she said yes.

I am so happy for my friend.
I cried right then and there. Happy tears for one of the best women I know.

Deanna + Scott... we love you both and wish you everything good in this life.

All I want is you, will you be my bride
Take me by the hand and stand by my side
All I want is you, will you stay with me?
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea.
Barry Louis Polisar