Verena Says

"Trying to fit in. Born to stand out."

Hi. My name is Verena. The rest of it is too long to type out.
This is my blog. And this is my Twitter.
The End.

PS. You can e-mail me at verenasays@gmail.com.
I'll definitely read it.
I'll probably answer.
I don't have that much else going on.
Apr 23
Permalink

We’re A Dying Breed

Like any 21st century, self-obsessed person, I have a Google Alert on my name. And like most 21st century, self-obsessed people, there’s no real reason it. Most of the alerts I get serve as unnecessary reminders that I’ve just published something for the site at which I work or that some spammy robot in the farthest regions of the internet has linked to my piece, my blog, or something someone else wrote about me 8 months ago.

And then there was today’s, which — though biting — has provided me with the best qualification of my job description I’ve ever read:

Huffpo welcomed [Bo Obama] with meandering, tepid columns of regurgitated nothingness last week: Dr Patricia Fitzgerald wrote 1000 words on how cool the Obamas were for promoting the wellness pets bring their owners; Wendy Diamond is ga-ga over how hip and jazzy the name “Bo” is (“BO!!! As in Bo Diddley, curious — when did Malia and Sasha Obama start listening to Bo Diddley?”; and finally, Huffpo’s “Living Editor” — that’s presumably as opposed to the now-dead one who authorised the budget for this crap — Verena Von Pfetten contributed this phenomenal sentence to the discourse: “Oh, look! There’s a photo of him running with Obama! Squee!!”

(Emphasis mine.)

That said, NewMatilda, you’re funny and above all, not necessarily wrong, but two things: you forgot a parenthesis, and you’ve managed to miss one of the most over-publicized facts about HuffPost, which is to say: we don’t pay.

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Apr 15
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So this morning while trying to put in my contacts, one of them got misplaced. As they were my last pair, I looked all over for it and even called in for reinforcement. It was not in my hair, on my face, down my shirt or on the floor. It was not in my eye, nor in the sink, nor near the case or by the door. Tonight, I’m brushing my teeth and this is what I see. Seriously.

So this morning while trying to put in my contacts, one of them got misplaced. As they were my last pair, I looked all over for it and even called in for reinforcement. It was not in my hair, on my face, down my shirt or on the floor. It was not in my eye, nor in the sink, nor near the case or by the door. Tonight, I’m brushing my teeth and this is what I see. Seriously.

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Apr 13
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peterssecondthought:

Me and Zac.

Peter makes me laugh. And that’s why I lovies him.

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Apr 10
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Dude, If The Internet Can’t Tell Me Where Find The Cash Cab Then Really What’s The Point?

kellyreeves:

adamiss:

nudawn:

(via michaelorell)

I was on cash cab once.  I’ve told you all the story haven’t I?  They cast the show.  So you’re never going to accidentally catch a cash cab.

Sorry to burst your bubble.

I came so close

I too had an appointment for the CC. But my friends and I were too sick to be up as late as our scheduled ‘meet us on X block’ time required. : (  My mom watches the show religiously and was so bummed when I missed my chance.

Me too. Also: this.

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Apr 03
Permalink

Ugh, Sorry

I was just taking a vanity gander at Verena Says and for all intents and purposes 4 out of my last 5 posts have involved photos of me. Please accept my most sincere apologies. In penance, I am promptly disabling Photo Booth.

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Permalink
I’ve dreamed (literally) of this moment and it’s finally happened: the inimitable KatieBakes and I have met. [photo via NickMcGlynn]

I’ve dreamed (literally) of this moment and it’s finally happened: the inimitable KatieBakes and I have met.

[photo via NickMcGlynn]

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Apr 02
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GPOYW - a day late and a buck short: Unwashed and Wearing My New Glasses edition. And while we’re on the topic of gratuitous posts: It’s that time of week where you do something decidedly gratuitous, but in this case, it’s for someone else. Rachel’s brainchild: GPICT! My pick: Best Friends Animal Society (of Dogtown and Michael Vick fame) — for all the puppies out there not lucky enough to be owned by someone like me. See also: this.)

GPOYW - a day late and a buck short: Unwashed and Wearing My New Glasses edition.

And while we’re on the topic of gratuitous posts: It’s that time of week where you do something decidedly gratuitous, but in this case, it’s for someone else. Rachel’s brainchild: GPICT!

My pick: Best Friends Animal Society (of Dogtown and Michael Vick fame) — for all the puppies out there not lucky enough to be owned by someone like me. See also: this.)

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Mar 29
Permalink

peterssecondthought:

My 1st Vagina Monologue; AKA  - Vlog!!!

Oh, look! It’s my BFF Peter, vlogging, er, vagina monologue-ing away. Yeah, I know he’s a stud, it’s cool.

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Mar 26
Permalink
charitini: I deliberately left two awesome online ladies off my list because I wanted to post this for GPOYW. They are Verena von Pfetten and Glynnis MacNicol - two of my favorite Canadian compadres. Verena is smart and hilarious and sitting across from her is one of the few things I miss about HuffPo (I’d say the fridge full of Diet Coke, but Dan keeps us well looked after); and Glynnie is - my Glynnie! I don’t even know where to start but she is the best. Full stop. (If you need me to enumerate why, you obviously aren’t reading enough FishbowlNY. Go now.) Also I don’t know how we both grew up in Canada with the same exposure to U.S. politics and yet she knows everything about everything and I make jokes about sexy presidential names (oh come on. WOODrow Wilson? James POLK? Millard FILLMORE?). Anyway. GPOYW. Also stands for “Girl Power Oh Yeah!” Wednesday. Woooo! See, this is why I love Rachel. (Also, that hair is why I did this.)

charitini:

I deliberately left two awesome online ladies off my list because I wanted to post this for GPOYW. They are Verena von Pfetten and Glynnis MacNicol - two of my favorite Canadian compadres. Verena is smart and hilarious and sitting across from her is one of the few things I miss about HuffPo (I’d say the fridge full of Diet Coke, but Dan keeps us well looked after); and Glynnie is - my Glynnie! I don’t even know where to start but she is the best. Full stop. (If you need me to enumerate why, you obviously aren’t reading enough FishbowlNY. Go now.) Also I don’t know how we both grew up in Canada with the same exposure to U.S. politics and yet she knows everything about everything and I make jokes about sexy presidential names (oh come on. WOODrow Wilson? James POLK? Millard FILLMORE?). Anyway. GPOYW. Also stands for “Girl Power Oh Yeah!” Wednesday. Woooo!

See, this is why I love Rachel. (Also, that hair is why I did this.)

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Mar 25
Permalink
GPOYW, or, in today’s non-acronymic edition: “Today Sucks And This Is Me With My Adorable Dog Who Needs Surgery To Prevent Paralysis.” Amidst all the other suckiness going on in my life (which may or may not be indirectly proportionate to the amount of posting I’ve been doing — my typical reaction to stress is various levels of immobility), I woke up yesterday morning to my precious Prince Dumbledore screaming (there is no other word for it) in pain, unable to walk and/or control his bladder. I’d had a similar experience with Dums twice before, but nowhere near as severe, the 2nd occurence of which warranted Dumbo’s Metro-North Adventure where the kindly neurologist said to wait until it occured again, then bring him in immediately. Which brings us to yesterday, wherein in between curses and tears I car-serviced (seriously — there was no Metro-North-ing this episode) myself and my whimpering muffin to the Animal Specialty Center in Yonkers where an MRI was ordered for the morning. And, as it turns out, Dumbo has a ruptured disc in his neck that is severely compressing his spinal cord, causing the first signs of paralysis in his right side (inability to recognize where exactly his legs are / delayed reactions) and which requires surgery as soon as possible, ideally this afternoon or tomorrow morning. And that sucks. It sucks for my dog because I want him to just be a happy, healthy, spoiled and spunky creature, not a suffering, sedated, and surgery-requiring mess. And, less importantly but more fiscally immediate, it sucks for my wallet. But of course I’m going to do it because he’s my dog and I love him and there are mornings where I wake up and I just have no idea how I would get out of bed if not for his snorting, snuffly, and smelly face and how could I have taken responsibility for this snuggly, lazy creature without taking into account the possibility of this happening, no matter how horrible, how heart-wrenching, and how, to be totally honest and/or crass, expensive? There is a tooth-surgery I’ve been refusing to get because I already spent thousands of dollars on the same procedure (different tooth) last year and I’ll suffer through the ache, damnit, because who can afford that sort of thing on a yearly basis?, but when it comes to my dog, the indisputable love of my life (sorry, Nick), I will, of course, make this happen. After today I will be out several (read: too many) thousands of dollars that I do not in any way, shape, or form have and indebted to someone more than I can ever repay them, but, at the very least and with my fingers crossed, my dear little prince will be able to walk, will no longer screech in pain, and will spend the rest of his days repaying me with slobber, farts, and piles of hair in every corner of my apartment. So yeah, today sucks, but that, my friends, is love.

GPOYW, or, in today’s non-acronymic edition: “Today Sucks And This Is Me With My Adorable Dog Who Needs Surgery To Prevent Paralysis.”

Amidst all the other suckiness going on in my life (which may or may not be indirectly proportionate to the amount of posting I’ve been doing — my typical reaction to stress is various levels of immobility), I woke up yesterday morning to my precious Prince Dumbledore screaming (there is no other word for it) in pain, unable to walk and/or control his bladder.

I’d had a similar experience with Dums twice before, but nowhere near as severe, the 2nd occurence of which warranted Dumbo’s Metro-North Adventure where the kindly neurologist said to wait until it occured again, then bring him in immediately. Which brings us to yesterday, wherein in between curses and tears I car-serviced (seriously — there was no Metro-North-ing this episode) myself and my whimpering muffin to the Animal Specialty Center in Yonkers where an MRI was ordered for the morning.

And, as it turns out, Dumbo has a ruptured disc in his neck that is severely compressing his spinal cord, causing the first signs of paralysis in his right side (inability to recognize where exactly his legs are / delayed reactions) and which requires surgery as soon as possible, ideally this afternoon or tomorrow morning.

And that sucks. It sucks for my dog because I want him to just be a happy, healthy, spoiled and spunky creature, not a suffering, sedated, and surgery-requiring mess. And, less importantly but more fiscally immediate, it sucks for my wallet. But of course I’m going to do it because he’s my dog and I love him and there are mornings where I wake up and I just have no idea how I would get out of bed if not for his snorting, snuffly, and smelly face and how could I have taken responsibility for this snuggly, lazy creature without taking into account the possibility of this happening, no matter how horrible, how heart-wrenching, and how, to be totally honest and/or crass, expensive?

There is a tooth-surgery I’ve been refusing to get because I already spent thousands of dollars on the same procedure (different tooth) last year and I’ll suffer through the ache, damnit, because who can afford that sort of thing on a yearly basis?, but when it comes to my dog, the indisputable love of my life (sorry, Nick), I will, of course, make this happen.

After today I will be out several (read: too many) thousands of dollars that I do not in any way, shape, or form have and indebted to someone more than I can ever repay them, but, at the very least and with my fingers crossed, my dear little prince will be able to walk, will no longer screech in pain, and will spend the rest of his days repaying me with slobber, farts, and piles of hair in every corner of my apartment.

So yeah, today sucks, but that, my friends, is love.

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Mar 13
Permalink
Michelle Obama Gives Good Hug.

Michelle Obama Gives Good Hug.

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Mar 12
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This needs no introduction. You can thank me later.

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Feb 19
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So, I’m kinda pissed. I don’t know if you guys remember but a while back Sara Zucker threw up a link to Urban Outfitter’s Nylon subscription giveaway, and since Nylon is quite possibly the magazine least likely to offend my delicate print sensibilities, I went ahead and signed up. WELL. Turns out that free subscription was not so much free as it was, well, not free. This is the response I just got. Dear VERENA, We received your request for a FREE one-year subscription to NYLON Magazine. Thank you for your interest in our hot young publication! Unfortunately we regret to inform you that the FREE-subscription holiday offer was extended only to Urban Outfitter customers who responded by the date given. Perhaps the third-party site you visited had an outdated link; we apologize for any confusion they may have caused you. We would still love to have you as a NYLON subscriber, however! So we would like to welcome you with this special offer instead: just $9.95 for one year (10 fashion-forward issues) PLUS a cool (and clingy) NYLON Logo T-Shirt – FREE with your paid subscription! That saves you a substantial 75% off our cover price. And considering how much a fashionable T-shirt can cost these days — $25.00 and up is not uncommon, as you surely know — you can appreciate what a good deal this is… To take advantage of this special limited-time opportunity, just click here. We look forward to receiving your order at your earliest convenience; we currently have all sizes of the T-shirt in stock and will ship yours immediately upon payment of your subscription. Sincerely, Jacqueline Smith Look, I’m not normally one to pay for magazine subscriptions. I’ve got a couple that came as a Christmas present and my desk at work is an ode to every CondeNast publication with too many PR people who don’t understand how the Internet works, but this time, somehow, Nylon sucked me in. It might have been the free t-shirt. (What? They said it was clingy.) Anyway, I clicked through, ended up at a nice little subscription landing page, where $9.99 had somehow morphed into $19.99. (See above illustration / screenshot.) WTF, Nylon? You take my trust, my imaginary money, and my desperate desire fror a free t-shirt and crap extra digits all over it. So, which is it, Nylon? $9.99 or $19.99? I’ll tell you which: Neither.

So, I’m kinda pissed. I don’t know if you guys remember but a while back Sara Zucker threw up a link to Urban Outfitter’s Nylon subscription giveaway, and since Nylon is quite possibly the magazine least likely to offend my delicate print sensibilities, I went ahead and signed up.

WELL. Turns out that free subscription was not so much free as it was, well, not free.

This is the response I just got.

Dear VERENA,

We received your request for a FREE one-year subscription to NYLON Magazine. Thank you for your interest in our hot young publication!

Unfortunately we regret to inform you that the FREE-subscription holiday offer was extended only to Urban Outfitter customers who responded by the date given. Perhaps the third-party site you visited had an outdated link; we apologize for any confusion they may have caused you.

We would still love to have you as a NYLON subscriber, however! So we would like to welcome you with this special offer instead: just $9.95 for one year (10 fashion-forward issues) PLUS a cool (and clingy) NYLON Logo T-Shirt – FREE with your paid subscription!

That saves you a substantial 75% off our cover price. And considering how much a fashionable T-shirt can cost these days — $25.00 and up is not uncommon, as you surely know — you can appreciate what a good deal this is…

To take advantage of this special limited-time opportunity, just click here.

We look forward to receiving your order at your earliest convenience; we currently have all sizes of the T-shirt in stock and will ship yours immediately upon payment of your subscription.

Sincerely,

Jacqueline Smith

Look, I’m not normally one to pay for magazine subscriptions. I’ve got a couple that came as a Christmas present and my desk at work is an ode to every CondeNast publication with too many PR people who don’t understand how the Internet works, but this time, somehow, Nylon sucked me in. It might have been the free t-shirt. (What? They said it was clingy.)

Anyway, I clicked through, ended up at a nice little subscription landing page, where $9.99 had somehow morphed into $19.99. (See above illustration / screenshot.)

WTF, Nylon? You take my trust, my imaginary money, and my desperate desire fror a free t-shirt and crap extra digits all over it.

So, which is it, Nylon? $9.99 or $19.99?

I’ll tell you which: Neither.

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Feb 18
Permalink
GPOYW: Today Sucks and This Is My Version of Brown Hair edition. (See also: Purple Nails.) Keep in mind: My hair used to be this color.

GPOYW: Today Sucks and This Is My Version of Brown Hair edition.

(See also: Purple Nails.)

Keep in mind: My hair used to be this color.

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Permalink
Quite possibly.

Quite possibly.

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