ProTip: The Grass is Greener at Spargelfest and Maifest, This May at Brauhaus Schmitz

"You know what we at love about Germany?  (Besides the delectable quads of their World Cup-winning soccer team and their eagerness to mark every possible occasion with a beer?)  They know how to party, and they’ll throw a festival for just about anything."

Get your green on with Spargelfest (and your beer on with Maifest) at Brauhaus Schmitz, via ProTip...

Mmm... Seasonal vegetables...

Skirt Collective: Just Say No to Bud Light, "The Perfect Beer for Removing 'No' from Your Vocabulary for the Night"

"Adults of legal drinking age are responsible for their actions, sure, but give me a break, Bud Light: 'removing "no" from [my] vocabulary' is not the way to convince me to order up a cold bottle of Inability to Consent.

"...[As of today, Bud Light] is 'Now Hiring FOUR Marketing Communications Managers' (emphasis mine).  I can’t imagine why?  Maybe because someone – anyone – in their Marketing Department should have kept 'no' in their vocabulary when reviewing this label copy?

"Here’s the next time I hope to have to say 'no': the next time someone offers me a Bud Light.  Turns out I’m not #UpForWhatever after all."

Taking on Bud Light's rapey new label tagline, via Skirt Collective...

Olivia Benson says 'no,' Bud Light.

Skirt Collective: I'll Be a Perfect Wife: A Response to "Dear Future Husband"

"Don’t have a dirty mind; just be a classy guy. The two are not mutually exclusive, Meghan! Some of my favorite classy guys have deliciously dirty minds. (Hey, fellas. You know who you are. [winks])"

Apologies to Ms. Trainor and her Bass (seriously, girl -- I'm all about it) but there are probably a few more critical things my "future husband" should know, via Skirt Collective...

Dear *actual* "future husband," SWOON. Love, Leah

TueDuesday: "Fly Me to the Moon," In Tune: On Karaoke

Welcome back to TueDuesday: A Weekly Series on Self Improvement (and Self Preservation), where I’ll share some of the hard-earned tips and tricks that have made their way up my sleeve after well over a decade of living alone in the city. 

TueDuesday goes out to all of you who have ever bravely moved into your very own apartment, only to encounter a cockroach the size of a well-fed hamster.  Barefoot.  In the middle of the night.  To all the ambitious drinkers who ever wanted to score the bartender’s number (and to the many of us who have failed, only to bravely try again).  To the pasta fiends.  To the Facebook lurkers.  To the happy, the hopeful, and the possibly hung-over guys and gals like me, navigating the city streets – or the country roads – without benefit of a map or a significant other.  Whether you’re chronically single, newly separated or happily coupled up and just looking for a way to make the occasional table for one a little more fun, there’s something here for you.

Like what you see?  Pass it along!  Strongly disagree?  Say so in the comments!  (Respectfully, please; after growing up with the last name Blewett, my ego can only take so much.)  Have an idea for a future TueDuesday post?  Send it over!  And keep in touch, via Twitter @LeahKBlewett and Instagram @leahkblewett.

Happy TueDuesday!

TueDuesday, April 21, 2015

“Fly Me to the Moon,” In Tune: On Karaoke

Last week’s TueDuesday was more for the ladies (though, fellas, I hope at least a few of you reconsidered what you stock in your bathroom and added, for example, a towel).  But this week, I’m going all-inclusive.  Men and women alike.  Dogs and cats.  Living together.  Mass hysteria!

This week, we’re answering the age-old question, something that gets asked at least as often – and is usually of far greater importance – than “What can I do to make my lips look like Kylie Jenner’s?”  (Seriously, don’t do this) 

That’s right, kids: “What should I sing?”

If you know me at all, you’ll recall that I’m something of a connoisseur of karaoke.  Blame any number of factors: an especially musical parent; back seat childhood sing-alongs to Fraggle Rock; 21-year-old Leah’s penchant for fruity drinks poured by attractive men at a friend’s barbecue joint during Tuesday Night Rock’n’Roll Karaoke.  (Come to think of it, these are all probably equally responsible for my tendency to break into song with the barest whisper of encouragement, pitch be damned.)  So as a seasoned Karaoke Junkie, I’m here to help you do it right.

Successful karaoke demands only a few things:

1. Know your voice.

Nothing’s more painful than listening to an alto struggle through “Love on Top” (something I’m not proud to admit that I found out the hard way), and if you’ve never successfully rapped before, I can’t recommend making your maiden voyage happen in a room full of drunks who probably know the words better than you do.  Surely, there are a couple of fun songs that are within your range.  Stick to those and leave the vocal exercises for your shower.  Your neighbors might not thank you, but your fellow bar-goers will.  (Incidentally: this goes double in New York, where the odds that there’s at least one Broadway performer at the bar are actually better than the odds that the bartender hates his fucking job on karaoke night with the fire of 1,000 burning suns.)

2. Know your audience.

Speaking of ways to make the bartender hate you: there are some songs that need never be sung at karaoke again.  We’ve all heard them, we’ve all hated them, and we’ve all rolled our eyes when their titles flash up on the screen.  You probably already know the songs I’m talking about, but lists are all the rage – and frankly, it bears making this moratorium absolutely clear – so:

   - “Bohemian Rhapsody”  This has never sounded good at karaoke.  Ever.

   - “Paradise by the Dashboard Light”  Cute for about 3 minutes.  Miserable for the other 17.

   - “Don’t Stop Believing”  I HAVE STOPPED BELIEVING AND NO AMOUNT OF COORS-SOAKED CATERWAULING WILL CHANGE MY MIND.

   - “Rehab”  You are not Amy Winehouse.  And honestly, even Amy Winehouse never sounded especially good singing this song.  If you absolutely must: “Valerie.” 

   - “Nothing Compares 2 U”  Nothing compares 2 the pain U are inflicting on everyone’s ears.  Quit harshing our mellow, man; this is a karaoke bar, not a solo showcase.

   - “Piano Man”  My own unnaturally capacious love for Billy Joel notwithstanding, this is not a karaoke song.  It is meant to be sung loudly and badly by 18,000 New Yorkers in Madison Square Garden, and that is all there is to it.

3. Commit.

I cannot overstate the importance of this:  Sell.  Your.  Song.  Not sure you can hit all the notes?  Throw in some sweet dance moves.  Fuzzy on the lyrics?  Make something up.  Sick of everyone at the bar singing over you because you picked one of the songs I forbade you to pick above?  Out-sing those motherfuckers.  You’re the one with the mic, you’ve waited your turn, and for the next 3 minutes, you are the star of the bar.  Now there’s a title for the ol’ resume.

Geez, you still want more help?  Okay.  In no particular order: Karaoke Troubleshooting

I gave the DJ my song an hour ago, and it’s still not my turn!

Was your song a) awful, b) illegible, or c) already sung tonight?  Can’t help you.  But my buddy Andrew Jackson can usually increase your chances of getting your mitts on a mic.  The person running this shitshow lugs heavy, expensive equipment from bar to bar and then lets drunk people use it all night.  They’ll still be at the bar breaking down long after you’ve stumbled into the subway.  Throw a little cash their way, and Whoa!  Hey!  Would you look at that? I’m next!

I really want to sing a duet, and none of my friends will join me!

Come on, karaoke night is made for making new friends.  Pick a singer who sounded good and make ‘em an offer they can’t refuse (read: buy them a drink if they’ll be June to your Johnny).

When I signed up, my voice sounded great, but now I’m hoarse / drunk / shy!

Choose a quiet moment at the booth and ask the DJ to change your song.  If you honestly know that you’re too drunk to sing, save everyone involved the trouble and pretend not to hear your name when it’s called.  As for shy, all I can say is: sack up.  This is karaoke, kiddo. 

TueDuesday: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Morning After

Welcome to TueDuesday: A Weekly Series on Self Improvement (and Self Preservation), where I'll share some of the hard-earned tips and tricks that have made their way up my sleeve after well over a decade of living alone in the city. 

TueDuesday goes out to all of you who have ever bravely moved into your very own apartment, only to encounter a cockroach the size of a well-fed hamster.  Barefoot.  In the middle of the night.  To all the ambitious drinkers who ever wanted to score the bartender's number (and to the many of us who have failed, only to bravely try again).  To the pasta fiends.  To the Facebook lurkers.  To the happy, the hopeful, and the possibly hung-over guys and gals like me, navigating the city streets – or the country roads – without benefit of a map or a significant other.  Whether you're chronically single, newly separated or happily coupled up and just looking for a way to make the occasional table for one a little more fun, there's something here for you.

Like what you see?  Pass it along!  Strongly disagree?  Say so in the comments!  (Respectfully, please; after growing up with the last name Blewett, my ego can only take so much.)  Have an idea for a future TueDuesday post?  Send it over!  And keep in touch, via Twitter @LeahKBlewett and Instagram @leahkblewett.

Happy TueDuesday!

TueDuesday, April 14th, 2015

"Unexpectedly Spending the Night," or

"What Must Always Live in Your Purse," or

"How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Morning After"

Let's dive right in, shall we?  This TueDuesday, we're taking a cue from the Boy Scouts of America ("Be prepared!") and stocking our purses in the sweetly hopeful spirit of spending the night and navigating the morning after.

I've talked about the morning after before over at Shmitten Kitten, but this post is less to do with behavior and more to do with the essentials you'll need to preserve the precious illusion that you did, in fact, wake up like this.

For one thing, there are certain basics that you can expect to find in even the most slovenly bedroom buddy's bathroom: Soap. Water. Toothpaste.  Cobbling together a face washing and a tooth brushing is almost never impossible.  Beyond that, however, you're often on your own – meaning that I can't possibly be the only woman who has ever groped for a towel with hand soap stinging my eyes only to settle for the indignity of drying my face with toilet paper.  (Right??)

When considering which essentials deserve a piece of your precious purse real estate, it's a good idea to review which products you'd have the hardest time living without.  A bout of measles-esque acne during my early college years revealed that oil-free moisturizer is the only way to keep my T-zone from looking like a war zone, but carrying a full bottle around at all times is just overkill, so I thoroughly washed out a travel-sized shampoo vial and pumped a few mornings worth of moisturizer inside.  Along with tinted lip gloss (the fastest way to polish a makeup-free face), a sample tube of mascara (the fastest way to open up my squinty morning eyes and transform me from the blondest-haired, bluest-eyed Asian girl you've ever seen into someone resembling, well, me), and a tube of unscented lotion that I blended with a few drops of my perfume (instant Girl Smell!), that's my survival kit.  Minimal space occupied; maximum humanity achieved.

Consider your own morning routine, and pack accordingly: Will brushing your teeth with a finger make you feel mossy all morning long?  Include a travel-sized toothbrush.  Will having his pillow smell in your hair all day distract you?  Hairspray or body splash to spritz on your roots.  Will fretting about circles under your eyes keep you from enjoying the afterglow?  Concealer.  You get the idea.

And if all else fails?  There are really only two things that can truly ruin a sleepover: STDs, and stumbling home in heels.  So while mascara, moisturizer and all the rest are nice, these two non-negotiables will neutralize any of your morning after concerns: condoms and cab fare.

ProTip: The OTHER Seasonal Stuffing: National Empanada Day!

"Go forth and get stuffed.  You say gracias; we say de[empa]nada."

Today, make like a turkey or a stocking on National Empanada Day, via ProTip...

Get stuffed!