Shallon Lester's Blog, page 8

Shallon Gets Thin with The Digest Diet: Blog It Off Challenge!

Hi guys! I am stoked to say that as of today I have linked up with Reader’s Digest‘s–whose new book The Digest Diet is out soon!–to be part of their new 21-day weight loss challenge, Digest Diet: Blog It Off. The book is the newest from RD’s editor-in-chief Liz Vaccariello, author of the NY Times bestseller The Flat Belly Diet!

Lemme ‘splain.

I, like seemingly every human female between the ages of 20-30, am never happy with my weight. I work out like a mofo but I manage to eat (and esp drink) juuuuuust enough to keep me fat. Well OK not like fat fat, but definitely unhappy with my body. Full disclosure? I’m 5’5″ and weigh 135. God I hate saying that. This is me:

Me, Pre Diet: MEH.

Like I said, I’m not some beheamoth roaming the earth, but I’m bigger than I know I should be, which is 125, max. With my bone structure and muscle tone, I have a sick body just waiting to happen, just begging me to peel off this layer of blubber covering up the awesomeness!!

Me, last night: Thickness :/

So, I am THRILLED to be part of The Digest Diet: Blog It Off challenge. I’m going head-to-head (or, rather, love-handles-to-love-handles) with a handful of other bloggers to see who can look the foxiest after Reader’s Digest’s new 21-day fat flush. Check out this vid for a little bit more about who I am, my lifestyle and why this diet is my ticket to FoxyTown.

Want to blog it off with me?? Tweet at me @DowntownShallon or leave me a comment. Good luck to us all!!

PS and yes I’m still your go-to dating guru–that will never change babies

PPS, if you’re bored, check out my new gif tumblr, Hannibal Lester. Like #whatshouldwecallme, but sassssssy.

My Sorority Alumni Weekend is Coming Up

And even that’s probably way too many.

Who is Maggie Davenport? And Who is Editing This Script??

Long story short (I’m too busy/lazy to explain) I’m writing a new scripted TV show called Who is Maggie Davenport and I’m in the process of editing, editing, editing.  Apparently, frantic to simply turn in the latest draft, I cut, copied and rearranged sentences with such abandon that I neglected to clean up this little gem of a fragment:

Off to the side, party, thrusting penis. Brooke is her retainer in.



Scarlett is having her own drunken dance a bottle of whiskey at people like it’s a curled up against the napkin dispenser with.



Amazing. It’s nonsensical, dirty and hilarious. Hopefully the show will turn out the same way. More later…

This script WILL be my ticket to dating Zac Efron. Just you wait.

This show will be my ticket to boning Zac Efron. Mark my words.

Quote of the Day: Cat Marnell

“[Adderall] made me who I am now. I was a little more talkative than other people. I could write a bit better. I was a little skinnier and crazy-eyed. I got more attention than other people. It’s like the same term they use to describe narcissistic people, which is “conspicuous existence” and it’s the same thing on speed. You have a conspicuous existence. I have never not been on speed since.

If anything, that’s what you are addicted to: you become a little more special than other people. I’ve always been an enhanced version of a human being. Of myself. I’m addicted to that. When I went off of it, you know what happened? I became normal. I looked normal. My ideas were normal.”

 

This is a quote from drug-addicted XOJane.com beauty blogger Cat Marnell, who was axed this week when she refused to get clean. I’m not addicted to Adderall or anything (promise Mom!) but it’s a really interesting concept: becoming dependent on something that makes you the best version of yourself.

For a lot of girls, it’s a boy. Or they think it is, anyway. For others, it’s social cache and then FOMO (fear of missing out) sets in because you really can never be popular enough, just like Cat can’t ever be high enough. What am I addicted to? I don’t know…maybe all of it. Maybe it’s a pill here, a party there, a kiss once in awhile. But hopefully if you spread out all my vices, they form a sweet, benign hum instead of a roar like Cat’s.

It’s How You Say “Carpe Diem” in Douchebag

Me, reacting to my friend Wen-Wen suggesting that we to Croatia this summer (instead of St Tropez as originally planned). Yes you only live once, why not be as lame as possible?

Why I Won’t Be Watching “Girls”

If one more person pops up and says “Heyyyy Shallie, are you totally gonna watch Girls on HBO? It’s, like, soooo up your alley!” I’m gonna freak out.

Is it? Is it really up my alley? Let’s break down what this show is about:

1. Brunettes

New TV star or deranged cat lady desperate for Whiskas?

 

As a blonde, I have a fierce loyalty to my hair color. I nod along gravely with “Blonde: It’s a Lifestyle” bumper stickers. I have little to no interest in watching a show about mousy-brown girls eeking out an existence in—shudder—Brooklyn. In fact, it was only a few days ago when I realized that the main poster wasn’t just one person in different poses—but five separate people! They ALL LOOK ALIKE. And that is not a compliment. If you’re going to make every character practically indistinguishable from the rest, why not at least pick a hotter prototype?

2. A Writer

The same is said about my plotlines. They're true too.

“Because you’re a writer too, Shallon! Get it?!” Yes. I get it. I too am a writer, the parallel was not lost on me, thanks. But I’m no longer a struggling, destitute writer and—shockingly!—I don’t really care to relive those days of “Where is my life going?” Because—and this really may be a shocker—even with two published books, a TV show, and hefty resume, I still wake up in the night terrified about my career. I really don’t need a reminder of that on my Tivo.

 

3. Brooklyn

The "urban lumberjack" look on display in BK. Yes, this is a thing.

I hate Brooklyn. Call me a snob if you want—I’m from Orange County, California, being a snob isn’t exactly an insult where I grew up. BK is a smelly, unsafe, hipster douche-filled crapfest of a borough that I only go to when absolutely forced. I realize that a few of you live in BK and it makes me sad because I’m so lazy that we both know I’ll go out there mayyyybe 3x a year. But only if someone promises me cake.

 

 

4. Nepotism

Did you know that every single girl on this show has famous parents? Ironic to be in a series about struggling for success when you’ve done the exact opposite with your own career. Shameful.

My mom is a nurse. Just sayin'....

Where I’ll Be Every Single Day From 6-8

I used to crave a variety of things, from Top Ramen to kale to suntan lotion (to smell, not eat). But over the last few years in New York, all of that desire has been funneled down to a singular, insane, near-constant desire for one thing: Champagne.

I blame this on the ubiquity of events that I go to where passed trays of Champagne is de rigeur. I also blame it on my borderline alcoholism. JK I actually don’t drink that much, mostly because unless I’m at an event, I find every drink fairly unsatisfying.

“Seriously, who doesn’t have Veuve Cliquot in this day and age?!” I’ll fume to the cashier at Madison Square Garden as she shrugs, looking lamely over her Bud Light tap and roasting wieners.

All week, I’ve wanted a glass of bubbly. So imagine my delight when I heard about Flute, quickly doing the math and realizing than $25 x 6 days a week is a great deal to scratch my beverage itch.

 

Feel free to come join me.

Quote of the Day (Maybe Lifetime)

“There are thousands and thousands of people out there leading lives of quiet, screaming desperation, where they work long, hard hours at jobs they hate to enable them to buy things they don’t need to impress people they don’t like.”

 

Ask Shallon: Turning a Facebook Flirtation into Your Girlfriend

One of my Australian fans doesn’t know if he should confess his feelings to a girl he chats with on Facebook. I give him some help…all in a horrendous adorable Aussie accent. G’day!

In Vino Veritas

My friends and I were talking about how different alcohols effect us in wildly different ways. If Klo and I drink Whiskey we get into a slap fight (all in good fun). This happened before her wedding and she ended up breaking two of my fingers and I gave her a black eye. Unfortunately, if Klo isn’t around I’m inclined to not-in-such-good-fun fight pretty much anyone else.

Tequila and rum make me dance (probably because it reminds me of vacation), Champagne makes me judgy and prissy but wine…well, we all agreed that wine should just be called “crying potion.” Because God forbid any of u get one glass in us (when home, alone, of course) and the tears start.

My friend Katie, who works for a wine company, asked for help naming a new wine aimed at 25 year old girls who are into glammy things like sparkly cell phone covers, lip gloss and air kisses–basically me in a nutshell.

I gave her a slew of ideas, like “LBD,” “Trophy Wife” and “Red Stiletto” but really, I think I’d be the most likely to buy a wine with a more honest name like “Weeping Over Your Ex,” “Facebook Stalking,” “Depressing Beyonce Playlist” or perhaps “I’m Planning a Non-Existent Wedding on Pintrest.”

What would you name a wine if given the chance?