#netflixproblems

For the equally addicted Netflix-ers out there. No one could be as bad as me... or could they?

#netflixlove #dexter #sexydexy #loveitall

http://www.buzzfeed.com/lukebailey/24-problems-every-netflix-addict-will-immediately-understand?bffb&utm_term=4ldqpgp#.mr79LqmxV

Danke Buzzfeed!!

3-2-1 Hedwig!

Hi Buns!

Firstly, no that blog post title is not just me doing a happy little countdown dance until my third, ahem, and likely what-will-be best, Hedwig on Broadway show. No no, I am cleverer than that my little Buns. No, indeed, that title means to say that yes, Saturday evening, I will have the pleasure of witnessing the ORIGINAL 2001 film and off-Broadway Ms. Hedwig herself, the delightful John Cameron Mitchell, back on the broadway stage.

Really, Buns, I can't even believe it. After having seen the original (and may I say, fucking fabulous), Neil Patrick Harris as Hedwig earlier this year, followed up by Michael C. Hall as Hedwig last month, I feel I may now be topping both of those marvelous men with JCM. Side note -- do I sense a Hedwig theme here -- must each and every male to fill Hedwig's, er, wig, have a three part name? (Read: NPH, MCH, JCM. Yes I know I left out the widespread forgettable Andrew Rannalls somewhere in between there but since I am not a fan and made the purposeful choice to avoid his what-was-surely sub-par performance, I'm going to discount that dismissable factoid). But I digress.

So, yes! On Saturday evening, you'll know where to find me. Belasco Theater, first row, center. I'll be the girl with popping-out-of-her-head eyes, a perma-grin and an all around glow from hed (pun intended) to toe. I truly cannot wait. I feel like a flamboyant little girl in a sweet and sour candy shop ready to play! What a weird metaphor, what's that about right? I don't even know myself. But who cares. Suffice to say, my little heart is just full of excitement, wonder and eagerness at the thought of seeing the original Sugar Daddy lovin' Ms. Schmidt herself on stage before my eyes. That's the long story short, ya know.

Okay, in anticipation of this to-come epic evening, I'd like to take a minute, or a paragraph or two, to juxtapose my two Hedwigs seen to date. Let me commence with this likely polarizing statement: I did not like one of these Hedwigs better than the other. That's right.You read it right. I. Liked. Them. Both. The. Same. I'll pause for a moment and let you re-read. Ok, done? What, you must be thinking, you couldn't have liked MCH as much as NPH (they even rhyme I know). Why yes, actually I am certain those thoughts are going through your head right about now. But allow me to defend my statement. Or, rather, not defend, back up. Yes, kids, NPH was fabulously fucking fierce -- no way around it. He was the energetic, what-you-see-is-what-you-get, bubbly, lovely Ms. Hedwig. His performance (see previous in-depth B-logue review) was unlike any other I had seen, full of energy, enthusiasm, and at the core, awesomeness. Hence his Tony and stuff. Simple statement: I loved NPH-as-Hedwig.

Having said that, my love for NPH-as-Hedwig is totally and utterly unrelated to my love for MCH-as-Hedwig. No causation, no correlation, nope no relation at all. If NPH was the bright, bubbly Hedwig, sexy-Dexy MCH was her polar opposite. Michael C. Hall was Hedwig sans Prozac, Hedwig on the couch -- he was the darkly dreaming Hedwig. (If you have the unfortunate misfortune of being a non-Dexter fan, you will not get the reference. I'm sad for you if so). But yes, MCH brought all of his dark, death-dreaming, bathed-in-blood past with him to the stage... and threw it all right into the heels of Hedwig herself. MCH's Hedwig was equally (and quite honestly, perhaps even more so) alluring to me than/as that of NPH. Hall's Hedwig was darkly humorous, witty, and utterly mesmerizing. The layer of dark beneath the bubbly blonde wig brought incrementally more depth to the character, to me, than the alternate layer of light I saw in NPH's Hedwig, And that really worked for me. After all, the story of Hedwig is, despite the glitter, wigs and heels, not a light and fluffy one. It is a story of a botched, and unwanted, sex change operation, a story of parental neglect, marital dischord, the forfeiting of identity, and pure self-doubt. It is a story of self-love but only after the story of self-hate comes to a rather incomplete close. With a storyline like that and the weight of the east Berlin wall in tow, a darkly-dreaming-Dexter-meets-blonde-girly-boy-Hedwig was, to me, the perfect potion. Just to be clear now, no, I will still not say which Hedwig I preferred. Yet.

But ask me after Saturday night.

#jcm #hedwig #hedwigonbday #mch #nph #dexter #doogiehowster

#somuchlove

Love,
The Mysterious RBunny

The ABC... you next Tuesdays

Given my very overt recent absence from the wonderful world of writing, I must say that when a witty blog post idea actaully graced my brain, I was sheerly overjoyed!! Happy, joy! Ahem. Okay, but seriously now, Rachel Rabbits. In the spirit of brevity and gettin' right on down to it, here is it, my first intelligent idea in months. I present to you, the ABCs... snark edition.

A is for ass. Sorry so crass.
B is for Bunny. I may be a bitchy one but at least I'm funny.
C is for uh... "see you next Tuesday". No rhyme needed.
D is for dense, makes me hope you ain't breeded.
E is for ego, oh lord, here we go.
F is for fuck, the best of the curses,
G is for gah, how many more of these verses?!
H is for ha, the snarkiest response around,
I is for I, the most selfish pronoun.
J is for jaded, you bet I am,
K is for kewl, a word that ain't no one's jam.
L is for loser, wipe that L off your face,
M is for money, buy me style and grace.
N is for NO, I ain't scared to say it,
O is for Oprah, yup, fierce as shit.
P is for prowl, I'm always on,
Q is for quiet, a trait I don't don.
R is for RBuns(!!), my much better half,
S is for sauv blanc, pour me a caraf.
T is for tight-lipped, I now try to be,
U is for uptight, keep away from me.
V is for valiant, always be a giver!
W is for wah, oh please cry me a river.
X is for just that, we all have them in our pasts,
Y is for youth, oh lord, please bring mine back.

... and now here we are, right a la fin,
Z is for zzz, I'm sleepy. Adieu. The End.

I hope everyone now has a full grasp of the alphabet according to Bunny. Happy Tuesday, y'all.

Love,
RBuns

#tovelo #take2

Back!

I have decided to complete my Tove Lo review / thoughts / praise in the form of a - wait for it - LIST. Yes, that's right, Bunny Babes (ahem), we all know I love a good list and Ms. Lo is certainly nice fodder for a solid one.

So, here we go. Reasons why I absolutely fucking love Tove Lo.

1. Her music makes me feel. No, I did not forget to add an adjective at the end of that. That was a purposeful stop. Because, it does just that. Tove's songs make me feel. They really make me feel. It wouldn't be fair to assign one adjective as my emotion becauase there are many that could fill the mad-libbed-like blank.  They make me feel. End of thought.

2. More specifically, her song Moments veritably has some of the best one-line song quotes. Like, ever. To quote Ms. Haber, any song that includes the phrase "charming as fuck" has to be pretty epic. But I mean, really. I want to one-line tweet, like, all the lyrics they're so damn great. 

3. She is sexy as all hell without being trashy. I wouldn't complain if I had to look at her all day long every single day. Damn, girl, werk.

4. Videos. Uh, enough said. In the spirit of keeping this post somewhat approrpriate for all audiences, I'll say this. Watch the video for Habits and, er, you may see what I mean.

5. She is a Swede. And that's just fundamantally bad ass. I suppose I only really know two Swedish artists / bands / what have you (and oh yeah, they both happen to be managed by the lovely Ms. Haber) but both are pretty damn great and because of this, I am going to go out on a totally stereotypical blanket-statement limb and say that all Swedish bands are just cool. I am doing this because, well, I can. It's my blog and I'll stereotype if I want, dammit! 

6. Her manager is my west-coast-band-managing-fierce-as-hell high school friend, Laura. And, well, that's enough right there.

Anyway, since it seems I could go on forever with this list, I will close with #6. 

Don't take my word for this, please check out Ms, Lo (er, and her music ha) for yourself. Happy Thursday, happy Yom Kippur (almost), and happy listening, Bunnies.

Love, 

Rachel

#tovelo

"I'm not the prettiest you've ever seen but I have my moments, I have my moments."

"I can get a little drunk, I get into all the don'ts but on good days I am charming as fuck."

Just wanted to put that out there. I wanted to put that out there becuase, you know, I get that. I feel that. I get ya Tove.

Last night I saw the wildly amazing Tove Lo perform at Webster Hall. I will finish this post later on in further depth but let me commence by saying this... wow.

In addition to being one of the hottest damn chicks I have ever seen (no, that is not hyperbole), she is also legitimately and insanely fucking talented.

It is a rare singer who can successfully bridge the gap between lyrical and musical talent. I say this from years of experience in music-obsessing. And trust me when I say, there have been a lot of those years. The lovely Ms. Lo, however, is one of those rare ones. The songs on her debut album, Queen of the Clouds, are profoundly deep in meaning as well as musically brilliant. Not to overdo it here with flattery for the Swedish twenty-something but I'll say this. The experience of listening to Tove's songs feels something like a drug-induced trance combined with the best dance party you've ever attended. It's a drug binge gone good and one you want to keep repeating. Yeah. It really is.

I will complete the review later tonight so stay tuned but until then, please immediately start listening to this epically excellent album. Personal album favorites: Moments and Habits. In that order.

Get them. Listen to them. And repeat.

I'll be back later... babes. ;)

xo

Happiness-causing items of late

1. Barbra Streisand is BACK!! That's right, after nearly 15 years out of the TV circuit (or some lofty

quote like that), the magnificent Babs is finally here again. She's here. She's front and center. She's singing. She's interviewing. She's in the news. And I absolutely fucking love it. Welcome back, Babs!

2. Fall weather. Ahhhh, yes. At last, the return of the most refreshingly glorious season of the year is here. So many things are wonderful about fall. The disgusting summer humidity bids adieu and hair is once again able to look presentable. Walking to work becomes not a disgusting sweaty mess but rather a crisp and brisk wake up call. Blazers rear their heads again. Leather jackets resurface. Red wine is appealing again. Overpriced iced coffee is no longer a mandate. PUMPKIN SPICE LATTES return. It's a season full of wonder and wonderment, a season of new shoes, new shows, new clothes and new beginnings. Yes, autumn, I am glad you are back and hope you stick around longer than usual this year. Cheers to you.

3. New Apple proudcts. I love technology. I am a tech snob. A whore of all things Apple. The worst kind of whore there is. I tire of owning the same devices, the same technological interfaces bore me, and I long for innovation from the fruitiest of fruity tech companies on a consistent basis. But sadly, those times are few and far between, just once every couple years if we're lucky. And now (right now!!) it's that time. New iPhones. Updated iOS. Apple watches and their imminent, taunting release dates. Oh boy, I can't wait for all of it. Give it to me. Give all of it to me.

4. Family. It's been a bit of a rocky road paving the way of my life during these past few months. No pity, please. Pity does not please me (alliteration again). Facts are facts. In lieu of this, I set out to make this past summer the summer of family. I took a slew of trips during the summer months (yes that's right, even non-trip-oriented me) and I took them all to family-located destinations. Montreal with the motherboard, Chicago (with myself) to see all parentals, cousins, a grandma, new babies (well, one baby) and such. And lastly, Boca Raton (with the babiest of my baby cousins ABNewman) to hang with another grandma. And I learned something during these plentiful trips. I learned not something actually but rather quite a bit. I learned that it is not the absence of family that has the biggest impact but rather the presence of it. Life has a way of marching by and it can be easy to overlook the monumental importance of family throughout. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. It still happens with or without family in there. It is only when family re-enters your life that the incomparable specialness of it truly resonates. There are few people in your life who will love you unconditionally, well, unconditionally if you are lucky like me. Friends come and go, colleagues get replaced. Even spouses can be fleeting. The people who remain through all of it, though, through the trials and tribulations, the bullshit, the drama and problems of the heart... those people are family. After all, at the end of the day, water will flow but blood is always just a little bit thicker.

Love,
Rachel

Did someone say hipster?

Bonjour Bunnies!

Going to make this a short one today in the spirit of gettingother shiz done on this lovely fall morning. 

Anyway, it's been a #selfieseptember thus far and in looking back at a few of my recent selfies and also, er, from some commentary by friends, coworkers and such, I've ascertained that I have quite resembled a hipster as of late. 

Out of character? Perhaps (to you). 

Comfy? You bet. 

Awesome? Maybe. You decide. 

Hjpster is the New Bunny. 

HITNB. 

Too much? 

Anyway, here are a few of my hipster-esque ensembles as of late. 

Ya know, just in case anyone was wondering.

Shame on me for the selfie selfishness but oh well. At least I didn't do this on, gasp, FACEBOOK!

xo Buns

RBunny (or HBunny)

Jeff Goldblum: The Nerdy Fabulous Actor Turned Singer?

If I had to be surrounded in ads today, lesbihonest, I could think of worse ones than Ellen!! Amirite? Cheers to that. #ellen 

http://www.sheknows.com/entertainment/articles/1050329/jeff-goldblum-sings-jurrasic-park-theme-song-on-seth-meyers

Musings of the Moment

Bunny Buns,

Greetings. On this thirtheenth commemoration of September 11th, I thought it my duty to bring a little ray of sunshine to this otherwise somber day. What better way to do so than to list out a few queries / sources of confusion / societal ponderings that have graced my mind over the recent past. See below.

• Since when has it become socially and/or societally acceptable for someone to assume I will go over to their apt AS a first date? And no, I do not mean POST-first date, I mean AS first date. Read: Other person offers to cook brunch. Really? I have never met you save for the totally-nonhuman-meeting online that is totally NOT a meeting, therefore I am by no stretch of the imagination even toying with the idea of going over to your apartment. Child, please

• I have a bone to pick with Tinder. Yeah, yeah, I am starting to see and recognize that much of the content on the b-logue of blogs has centered around dating as of late. Diversity, you say! I know, I am trying. But sometimes we must write about what we know right? In any case, Tinder, I am enjoying your keen ability to allow me to meet some lovely, er, people, however, I don't much appreciate your vagueness. Why can't I be more specific? Brown hair, sporty, good cook... I'm very particular here, dammit, and you're not giving me much option! See what you can do about that, k?

• Is there really anything wrong with wearing an all-black outfit and brown shoes? From recent reactions, it seems to be the widespread answer is yes, something is offensively wrong with it indeed. Given the recent lack of color in my wardrobe, I have myself been sporting a great deal of black outfits with brown shoes (fabulous ones of course), only to the dismay of those around me. "Uh, Rachel, you know those are brown, right?" Yeah. But I'm going to stick with it. #fashionfail or #fuckfashion. You decide.

• The Prince of Tides was neither about princes nor tides. Discuss. Whoops, just kidding, that's a query by the lovely Ms. Streisand. I confused myself for a moment. Forgive me. I am just so overzealously excited about the return of the incomparable BABS!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Et maintenant, je suis finis... pour le moment. 

Salut mes lapins!

Rachel

Celebrities fight to end gun violence in Demand A Plan Now video - SheKnows piece du jour

http://www.sheknows.com/entertainment/articles/1049165/watch-celebs-speak-out-against-gun-violence-in-new-demand-a-plan-now-psa-video