Get Ready to Have Your Face Dazzled Off!!!!

HALLOWEEN IS NEARLY HERE!!!!!!! This means BIG business in the TILTE household (and by "TILTE household", I mean my mom's house). I love Halloween and obssess over it and plan my costume months ahead of time (and usually wait till the last minute to put it together and then get pissed because the thrift stores racks are bare.)

This year's costume is top-mutha-fuggin-secret and will only be unveiled ON Halloween. Of course I'll brag blog about it next week, but until then I know you'll just be slitting your wrists in anticipation.

For now, let's discuss some of my costumes from Halloweens past...

As you can see, I was a Halloween officionado right from the start. While other little girls were dressed as princesses and fairies, I was a Housewife. That's fucking hard core.

Alright, fast forward like twenty years and here I am. This costume was a last minute attempt at being Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill. And by last minute, I mean, I planned, planned, planned and ended up throwing together shit from my own wardrobe.
(I know it's impossible to tell the difference but the real Gogo is the second picture.)

To this day I'm still impressed with my commitment to quality on this Exorcist costume. I bought an old flannel nightgown at the thrift store, which totally kept me warm because I had a tank top and leggings underneath. I made barf out of oatmeal and green food coloring. Colored my teeth with brown eyeliner. And created scars and blood out of homemade glue paste and corn syrup with red food dye. Linda Blair is totally rolling over in her grave right now. -What? She's not dead? Whatever.

UPDATE: My mom totally just found this picture me and and my bestie when we went to a Dead Celebrities Halloween party. I was Mommy Dearest and she was Mrs. Roper. Eat your heart out, Joan Crawford.

Since both my bff and my sister called me out on the whole "sexy costume" thing, I feel like I MUST preface this photo by saying WE WERE GOING TO AN ADULT THEMED PARTY. I know what you're all saying and you're right- I am totally hot stuff and I should sport this outfit like all the time. But I'm just too shy for that kind of stuff. PS: I was a "Sexy Sailor". :::i die:::

Dead Girl Scout. Everyone does the "Dead ____" sooner or later and it's always a goodie because everyone knows what your costume is. And if there's something that really makes me go apeshit, it's having to explain my costume.

Dear, sweet Pippi. This costume is a REG-U-LAR in my Halloween apparel because it's always a GD hit. I bought a kids dress from the thrift store, threw an old apron over it, put some knee socks and old ratty shoes- and don't forget the hair, that's fucking KEY. I master this look by bending a wire hanger over my head and braiding it through my hair. And by "bending a wire hanger over my head and braiding it through my hair", I mean my mom does it and I flip the fuck out when she accidentally pulls too hard.

I think this needs no explanation. Unless you don't know who The Colonel is. -And if that's the case, I don't even want to know you.

I always love Dia de los Muertos costumes. (Mariachi sold separately)

I became obsessed inspired after seeing THIS Barbie make-up tutorial and decided to be that dreamy, babealicious Barbie for Halloween. I found everything for the outfit at the thrift stores and spent a small fortune ($20) on that lifelike wig. The only thing I used of my own were my socks that were used to give me giant Barbie boobs. You say Donatella Versace, I say Barbie.

So, I bet you're all going fucking mental right now trying to figure out how I can top these Hollywood-level theatrics. You're just going to have to wait until next week.

On a related note- Everyone should TOTALLY send me pix of your Halloween costumes and I'll post them on my Halloween entry!!! Send me pix of you, your kids, your pets- I don't care! I will post any pix you send me as long as it's not creepy*.

Send your pix to TILTE@live.com. Also, include your blog link!

PS: If nobody sends me any photos, we're going to pretend this never happened.

*no gentalia

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Domo Arigato.

I'm suing for using my likeness.




If you want the full story, go here.

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This Just In...

Friends- I have important news. Halloween is ONE.WEEK.AWAY. This is shit-hot, big-deal news because it's pretty much like my favorite day of the year (along with my birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving, any day I get Pink Bubble Gum ice cream from Baskin-Robbins, the day they reintroduced the Never Ending Soup and Salad at The Olive Garden, and also the annual unveiling of the McRib) (Just kidding, that's gross. I've never actually had a McRib). I LoveLoveLove dressing up and I usually start getting my mental game face on like two months in advance. You better believe I have some costumes lined up, but that shit is top secret until the big day.

Mtv emailed me this possibility. Ohhhhh Bunim/ Murray, you always know my soft spot.

Things I HAAAATE about Halloween: The Slutty (noun of your choice) Costume. Here's how it works: Pick a crazy stupid character/ animal/ occupation/ asshole and then put a "sexy" twist on it. For example...

" Sexy Skeleton". Skeletons are not sexy, no matter how much measuring tape you tie around your waist.

"Sexy Big Bird". Wrong on so many levels.


"Sexy Ninja Turtles" I like to call this look "Frat House Lawsuit."

"Sexy Bee". Bees aren't supposed to be sexy. People step on them for a reason.

This one was actually called "Sexy Demon". I like to think of it more as "Bartender with Veneral Disease."

"Sexy Supergirl". This look is really great for anyone who hasn't come up with a costume and also happens to have a little brother with a superhero obsession.

"Sexy Cavemen." Cavemen were filthy and furry and I can only imagine how much plaque and tartar was built up in their grill. But if you're into that kind of thing, that's cool.

"Sexy Boat Captain." Got a bikini and a captains cap? Sweet, you're set. Move over, Mr Howell- I'm bringing sexy back.

Aww, it's nice to see even the girl with no self esteem came out. (I don't even know wtf these costumes are.)

Equally offensive is when girls go through all the trouble of stripping down to their bra and skidders to look good, but they don't do shit to their hair or face. They're probably assuming nobody will even be looking anywhere besides their lady lumps, and for the most part, they're probably right. But not this hate-spitter. I notice these kinds of things. And it's really just the icing on the cake when you see a herd of sluts roll into town and from the neckskin up they all look like this-

Did I mention i LUUUUV Halloween??? More to come on this topic.

(Apologies if your costume/ photo was mentioned in this entry. I had no idea I was friends with such tramps.)

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Mazel Tov.

Back when I was 19, I moved in with a family friend and became kind of like a live-in nanny for her family. My friend was going through a divorce and was in need of some extra hands around the house. -Which worked out great for me because I was nineteen and waaaay too badass to be living at home anyway.

The four kids- David 8, Ketzel 6, Joey 4, and Mouche 1.5 (nicknames may or may not have be used)- were just like little extensions of my own family (except they're Jewish, French, and obviously have different parents).


(Photo courtesy of Ketz' facebook album. I totally stole it unbeknownst to her- Thanks, Ketz. Also- Sorry Mouche, you weren't born yet.)

For a year a half, I had one faux little brother and three faux little sisters. Being nineteen, I didn't really appreciate it so much then because it was more like "eh... these kids I live with". But keeping in touch with them over the years has really made me grateful for the opportunity I had to live with this special family. If I'd never lived there, I would have never:

-Shared disco music with Joey (Fly Robin, Fly was a fav)

-Walked in on a naked 8 yr old David sitting on the kitchen table and not caring who saw.

-Accused Ketzel of stealing my $2 bills, to which she adamantly denied it (and later on I found them in her jewelry box).

-Greeted Mouche every morning only to receive a look of horror like "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHERE'S MY MOM?!?!" day after day for a year and a half.

Over the years, I've been lucky enough to attend bar/ bat mitzvahs for my faux fam. This past weekend was a big fat Jewish deal though. It was the last mitzvah: My little Mouchie.



AwwWwWw... Little Joey and Mouchie... (I know, it's crappy scan. If you click on the pic, it should enlarge, but don't quote me on that. I don't know how to use that fancy Photoshop booshet, okay?)

For anyone who's never been to a Bar/ Bat Mitzvah, it's a basically a rite of passage that takes place around 13 years of age. There's two hours of sitting, standing, sitting, standing, following along in a holy book (heads up for non Jews: books in Hebrew read from back to front. You can thank me later for this one the next time you're in temple.), you hear stories about the celebrated person, and they get some lessons about how to be a respectable member of the community. It's actually a really cool thing to see and be a part of.

Mouche and family members at the bima.

Four generations at the ceremony- VERY cool.

This is when my stomach starts the celebration- challah bread (Holla!) and Manischewitz.

Kiddush Luncheon including tuna salad, bagels, fruit salad, egg salad, and cheEeEsee bliIiIntz!

Mazel cake (I'm still kicking myself for leaving without a slice).

Great grandma keepin it real.

They really are SuUuUuch nice people.

Omgggg, I can't believe all these kids are so big now. Especially that bigfoot on the far right (otherwise known as naked-8-yr-old-on-the-kitchen-table).

After the ceremony and luncheon, the family also had a party in the evening. My favorite part of any party- Always the food. My plate kind of looks like a disaster, but trust me, it was delicious. Highlights: mozzarella balls, chicken bites, and hummus.

Oh hai, cheez. Fancy meeting you here...

Dinner was followed by a make-your-own sundae bar. I managed to avoid this luxury because I'd already pigged out twice that day. Also, because I didn't think this would be a good time to have lactose intolerance butthole explosions.

Party guests cutting le rug.

Well, it's not really a party until someone ends up with an ice pack on their head.

Brother and sister dance-off.

Another set of "kids" whose bar/ bat mitzvahs I went to.

All in all, a great day spent with people who are beautiful, inside and out. (Technically, I've never seen the insides of any of these people, but I'm assuming they're just as beautiful as the outsides.)

Also, this weekend reminded me how olllllllld and short I am.

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Advice from TILTE

Calling in sick isn't nearly as fun when you're actually sick.



On the bright side, today my friends sent me messages like these:

"Until you say otherwise, I'm just going to assume this is period related bullshit...."

"Is there any correlation to your food blog?"

"Your new boobs are gunna be great!"

" '‎I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant...' "

"At least you have great socks on."

"What hospital are you at? I'm stopping by, with hipstamatic in tow."

"That sounds like a technical term for assplay."

"Pomise me you're not getting an abortion."

I love my friends. Srsly.

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Weekend Recap.

Cheese fries and burger courtesy of The Counter. If you've never been there, and you love a good burger, THIS is the place to go. They give you a checklist (as seen below) and you get to create the meaty masterpiece of your dreams. They even have a non-meat patty option for you vegetarians. (Vegetarians??? WTF is a vegetarian anyway??? It must be a mythical creature, like Yeti or Falcor the flying dog from The Neverending Story, I'm sure.)

This is my signature item. And by signature item, I mean I've ordered it twice. But trust me friends, it gets exponentially better each time I try it. (Which would make this past visit twice as good as the time before). (TILTE = a wiz with the numbers)

1/3 lb turkey burger, on a bun, imported swiss, organic mixed greens, sprouts, avocado, and tzatziki sauce. (MmmMmMmM.... your mouth and guts are going to thank me for this, I guarantee it.)

Pros for eating at The Counter: They serve beer. They play great music (Ahem... Duran Duran and Billy Idol. I think I've said enough, AMIRIGHT.) The staff is always friendly. Did I mention you CREATE YOUR OWN BURGER???

Cons for eating at the counter: None.

ENOUGH SAID.

So, despite none of you asking because all of you have been hounding me about Pimm's Cup, here it is, in all it's liquory glory.

Here's the story with Pimm's, according to viewlondon.co.uk:

"Nothing beats a glass of Pimms on a summer’s day. The British beverage is almost as much a tradition as the cup of tea, and the British down the gin-based drink by the gallon during the summer months.

History of Pimms
Rewind back to a London oyster bar in the 1840s where owner James Pimm invented the thirst-quencher. Using gin, quinine and a secret mixture of herbs, good old Pimm served up the brew as an aid to digestion, dishing it out in a small tankard and the No. 1 Cup moniker was born. "
(For more info and recipes, go HERE.)

It's the official drink of Wimbeldon. And since people always mistake me for Pete Sampras Anna Kournikova, it's like it was practically made just for me.

Pimm's #1 can be rather tricky to find (unless you live in the U.K., in which case disregard this part)- I found mine at BevMo. Happy drinking, mates.

And because no entry would be complete without dessert, Piiiiinkberrrrrrry.


I went with the seasonal mango yogurt, topped with mango and blueberries. :::fresh fruit droooool::: Pinkberry is the best frozen yogurt ever invented, FACT. It's not all fucking milked out like Marble Slab or Cold Stone. (I hate those places.) Instead, it's just the right combination of creamy, but light, and a little sweet/ tart. Plus, it has Live and Active Cultures, as recommended by the National Yogurt Association. See??? My doctors are practically TELLING me to eat it.

That's it for now. I will leave you with a parting gift: Bike Cozy, anyone??

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Farmer's Market

The Farmer's Market does not get enough cred these days. Let me rephrase that. I'm sure it does from people who are used to eating healthy, and avoiding pestacides, and yadda yadda yadda, but I mean, from me, it does NOT get enough cred. So I made a trip this past weekend to my local FM. And let me tell you friends... Those farmers got me: Hook. Line. Sinker.

"Who was the vendor that turned you into a FM lover, TILTE???"

The vendor that sold this:

And this:

That's right. The butter and cheese dealer. She had a wide array of cheeses to choose from AND samples of them all. I originally asked for a sample of "This one..." :::pointing to a block of "unknown cheese"::: to which she informed me "That's butter." I played dumb, but we all know I would have really taken that sample if she'd had it on hand. I ended up purchasing a cuckoo looking mess of Mozzarella cheese (the one on the lower left in the butter picture), and because it was an end piece and the plastic wrap made it look like wall puddy, I got it for a bargain price. Great deal.

The next thing I spotted that sealed the deal on my love for the FM did not fall into any of my food group categories (Dairy, Carbs, Pie). It actually wasn't an edible item at all. It was this duo of violin-playing child hipster prodigies.

They rendered me immobile from the minute I laid my dreamy bedroom eyes on them. Not only do I want my future imaginary offspring to be this incredibly rad, I want to be this incredibly rad. These two played song after song, looking cool and hip and not at all stressed over busting strings (or nearby wine glasses) like I imagine I would.

From here, I moved over to the usual FM items, like fruits and veg.

I don't even know if this is a good price on green beans because we all know I never buy anything healthy. But they looked good to me.

"Rabbit carrots".

A GIANT peach I bought. I had fingers-crossed that its size/ weight was based on the delicious, peachy juicyness inside. In reality, that wasn't the case. But it was still good. Especially when served with fresh mozzarella and Ritz crackers. :::healthy, organic, pesticide-free drool:::

Straight from the home of The Strawberry Festival.

Lastly, every FM needs to have beautiful plants. This one in particular was roughly three feet tall, had several large flowers fully bloomed, and was only $10. Srsly, folks. This same plant would probably be closer to like $1,000 at your local Home Depot or Lowe's. (I've cruised the landscape aisles before. I know what plants go for these days.) This plant was a total bargain. Too bad I don't have a place of my own, much less a welcoming garden, to put it in. :::One day, giant dahlias:::

There was one vendor stall that I had to pass on ONLY because I'd ran out of moola. The fresh baked goods vendor. Ughhhh... I know, I'm almost embarassed to admit that I passed that gem up, but I have full intentions to hit that bitch up next time. From what I let my eyes catch a glimpse of, it looked like they were selling pies, cookies, baguettes, muffins, and sweet breads (and I literally mean SWEET BREADS, not that nasty booshet they CALL "Sweet Breads").

I'll keep you posted on my next visit. For now- SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FARMER. (I think that's what I'm supposed to say. I'm so organic now.)

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