Most Excellent

For the first time in my life, I wish my last name was Hasselhoff.

A Ritual We're All Familiar With

Laundry Night (QuickTime) on Vimeo

Picture of the Day

Rockport, MA, July 2006

Picture of the Day

Cabo, June 2006

Picture of the Day

San Diego, July 2006

Fire in the Disco!

My building decided to have a fire drill on the hottest day of the year. At first, I chose not to respond. I wasn't really sure if it was a false alarm, a drill, or a real problem. I decided to opt for false alarm. But damn that alarm bell would not stop dinging loudly for the love of god. It drove me to accept defeat and ramble down the 17 flights out of here. I feel slightly like a bad supervisor/adult/mommy figure, because the intern was confused and just followed my lead. I (perhaps too nonchalantly) told him he could take off if he wanted, when we first heard the bell. However, I guess I was displaying some sort of heroic devotion to my work by staying (and continuing to surf Popsugar), which somehow unfortunately informed him to do the same. Poor, poor man. Someone should really tell him I am not a role model. It's just one of those things that you really can't come out and say yourself, you know?

Anyway, since I was forced out of the air conditioning comfort of my office, I thought 10 am was as good a time as any to begin my lunch break. Did they honestly think I would wait around in 100 degree weather for their drill? I think not. And why were all of those other people in my building waiting around in 100 degree weather for their drill? Bad form, I say! Everybody loses when we wait around in pools of our own sweat. Let's all go home!

And that I did.

Two hours later, after one most luxurious nap, I returned to the officestead and reacquainted myself with the artic temperatures I actually once cursed in my building. Silly me.

Picture of the Day

"Oh, it must be dreamy to have a costumed nemesis."

I ran around all weekend with the Indian twins. It was pretty darn fun, actually. Oh, by twins, I mean my boyfriend's brother came to visit from Baltimore. He's barely a year older and looks exactly like my man. The first night, we sprinted him off to Waterfire where we were SORELY DISAPPOINTED by the burning hulks of wood. They were very unspectacular and very boring. (The music was pretty ok; very tribal.) Not to mention, the crowd was very on the whitebread and antiseptic side of the fence. It was suburbia hell in an office park with a diminutive river full of burning things, if you really want me to break it down for you. If you've heard things about this event, don't believe the hype. Stay home. Watch a Seinfeld rerun. You'll thank me later.

The next day, we traveled to Rockport and stuffed our faces with lobster rolls, fried clams, fried shrimp, and a miraculous view of the harbor. It was so pretty. And so fucking hot. Damn the hotness! I curse at you! Like this, I curse at you:
You! Damn you!!

Dude, I am watching the best show at home right now. Have you guys heard of the Venture Brothers? It's reaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllly funny. I want to date Brock.

I am mad craving chocolate milk.

I spent my lunch hanging out in Harvard Square searching for the perfect hand soap for my bathroom. Sadly, I didn't find it. There were a couple of contenders, but they didn't have hip enough dispensers. The dispenser is key. Also, the Bath & Body at the square is totally gross. The "tester" bottles have been sitting around for so long, things dispense as strings of goo, which leave a web between your hand and the bottle and the counter. It was so gross, I squealed. And I'm not a squealer.

At least that's what I like to tell myself.