...Not the kind of wheel you fall asleep at...

Scenes From This Past Weekend


  1. I accidentally parked under a blackberry tree this weekend, and now my car looks like it has been attacked by terrible menses.


  2. I've realized that a tried and true sign that I get along with someone really well is that I can act like an immature and juvenile brat around them without feeling self-conscious. Or apologetic.


  3. I think I may be going to Japan in December for 12 days, if all goes well. Even cooler is that the flight and hotel will be comped I think. I *could* be going to London under the same comp-iness in November, but I'm not sure if that will work out because of my schedule and my (hopeful) change of jobs around that time. Either which way, I'm motherf-ing excited (and hoping I don't jinx any of it by talking about it before plans have been finalized).


  4. Sunday was the MOST perfect day of weather at the beach that I've experienced in a long time. Jumping in the waves and giggling like little kids with my friend P makes my heart squishy.


  5. I've been realizing lately that there are a lot of things I enjoy that I didn't know I enjoy simply for lack of having enjoyed them before.


  6. I dig freckles. Still.


  7. It squishes up my heart to be sitting next to my best friend and watch her drive distractedly slow through the quiet dusk because she is entranced by the music from the mix I made her and, like me, wants to transcend time so as to get through as much of it as she can before she has to turn the car off and cut short the beauty of the night and its soundtrack.


  8. Michfest next week, babies!


  9. Apparently I was referred to slightly derogatorily as "one of them Art Girls" by an apparently slightly salty Y (of the XYZ equation). I figure it serves me right though, since I mocked the Art Boy a couple weeks ago. Karma boomerang.


  10. I lent my neighbor my car to go get cough medicine on Saturday morning because she was sick to the point of tears. She returned TWO HOURS LATER with groceries and narry a tear in her eye. Even weirder was the fact that she cleaned out all the cigarette butts in my car before returning it to me. WeirdEST was the fact that she bought me a pack of Marlboro Lights as a thank you, and the only way she could've gleaned that I even SMOKED that brand was from having closely examined the butts that she cleaned out of my car before returning it to me.


  11. Sunday mornings are 100x better when spent giving wet-willies to pseudo-narcoleptics in bed and, in return, having them lipsync Etta James' "A Sunday Kind of Love" to you.



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