Everyone Should Have A Photobooth, Or More Proof That I Am Incapable of Looking Like Anything Other Than A Total Idiot In Photographs

If you’ve got a webcam and time to waste, La Photocabine is incredibly amusing.

Also, my head is big and shiny.

Nonpareils #3

Starbucks is offering a Dark Cherry Mocha? This sounds pretty glorious and I’m already daydreaming about drinking it iced while sitting in the sunshine and reading about Tuscany, Turkey, Greece or Brazil. Can you tell that I’ve got a serious case of wanderlust? Since neither of my banks (vacation and monetary) agree with the idea of me travelling, it looks like I’m going to have to sate that lust by merely reading about these amazing places.

– Mike Jeffries, CEO of Abercrombie and Fitch, is totally creepy. Also, you can tell how dated this article is because one of the A&F employees is checking his Friendster messages. Yep — Friendster.

– My birthday is in a week. I am not excited. At all. No idea what I want. No idea what I’m doing. Nothing. This is so unlike me.

– The library book sale is in six weeks. I am stoked. I seriously need to start trolling Craigslist for a bigger bookcase.

– So, let’s say you’ve got this boyfriend and lately, he’s been a little negligent. Not a lot of real communication going on and he lets you down. A lot. BUT, dude’s got good intentions and he swears he’ll make it up to you. In fact, he’s taking you to Paris! You pack your bags, step off the plane and realize that you’re in Paris, Texas. Dub Tee Fail.

THIS is what Lost has been like for me this season. I keep buying all their hype about how questions will be answered and faithfully tune in every week, but every single goddamn week, I get off the plane and end up in Paris, Texas where nothing happens (no offense intended to anyone who does live there. I’m sure it’s a perfectly lovely place and the fact that you have an abundance of Tex-Mex eateries is always a good thing for a girl who loves chips and salsa) and I leave with even more questions than when I began my journey.

Look Darlton — I get it, OK? I do. You want the final half of the season to be an asskicking juggernaut that leaves fans and spectators breathless. But dudes, you have GOT to start injecting some life into these episodes! Seriously! I cannot handle watching people stalk around the goddamn jungle anymore! Verb it up a little!

Also, I have this theory. Let me know what you think:

According to last night’s episode – the only thing Sayid ever wanted died in his arms, correct?
Oh. OK. Gotta be Nadia….
…but you know who else died in the arms of Mr. Jarrah? Shannon Rutherford.

I’m thinking that Flocke makes good on his promise and delivers a certain blonde back to Wild Monkey Island.

Thoughts? Comments? Character assassinations because I dared defame Lost? Cookies?


A recap of my morning thus far:

– Leave for work late since we had to wait on the snow plows.
– Open front door (located directly underneath a covered awning) and realize two things: 1) The wind blew snow all the way up to our front door. 2) We can’t see the steps leading up to the front door.
– Navigate snow-covered steps and experience life flashing before eyes.
– Scrape snow off car and in doing so, manage to whack myself in the face with a shovel. Granted, the shovel was made of plastic, but still. I whacked myself IN THE FACE with it. No bueno, dudes. No bueno.
– Singalong with Augs to Dave Matthews’ Ants Marching. Discover we don’t know all the words. At all.
– Realize the drive isn’t that bad as long as we take it slow.
– Cross third traffic light and immediately start to question status as first world nation. Road basically looks like the set from John Carpenter’s The Thing.
– Get quasi-stuck in a snow bank. Augs somehow manages to get us unstuck and in doing so, becomes my hero.
– Decide to trek up to the Blue Route.
– Pass by the Philadelphia Pretzel Factory located right next to Starbucks. Do not stop. Do not purchase Americano the size of head and steaming hot soft pretzel. Continue to work.
– Arrive at work. Step into the cold. Immediately lose sensation in extremities.
– Mentally kick self for not purchasing aforementioned coffee and soft pretzel.
– Have started regaining sensation in extremities.

I’ll keep you posted.

Edit: 8:07 p.m.

– Spent a quality chunk of time at the office.
– Try to win tickets to Dave Matthews concert via radio station. Fail.
– Come home to find a delivery from Mark. Discover that I love the smell of lemon sugar.
– Eat pizza, shower, change into a shirt from 2001 and start feeling human again.
– Realize Real Time with Bill Maher is on tonight. Rejoice!
– Make plans with Augs to hit up Shutter Island and Classic Diner tomorrow.
– Day ends up being much better than it started.

Holy Shit, I Love You!

Yes. Originally uploaded by CrissyAlright

I found this image on Flickr a few years ago and immediately added it to my Faves. It’s a pretty perfect piece of graffiti — large, bold and to-the-point.

These simple words struck a chord with me as I basically spend my life effervescing with cheeky enthusiasm upon discovering something new.

So, right now — Holy Shit, I Love:

Feather butterflies.
– Turquoise and red — a color combination I seriously need to implement more of in my wardrobe.
– Coffee at the Classic Diner. It’s pretty glorious. Ditto the multi-grain toast.
– The fact that Augs went out in a snowstorm to get us hot chocolate.

Good bread is the most fundamentally satisfying of all foods; and good bread with fresh butter, the greatest of feasts – James Beard

Bread. Originally uploaded by Segerius-Bruce Photography

Not to sound like some Atkins-starved psychopath or a total pothead, but I’m pretty sure that bread, like music, proves that there is magic in the world.

Flour + Yeast + Water + Heat = Bread.

OK. Fine. Yes. Technically, this is chemistry.

BUT, bite into a soft dinner roll, still steaming hot. Or a buttery, flaky croissant, olive-oil kissed foccacia or a chewy, salty naan and try to convince yourself that there are not forces greater than chemistry at work here.

These simple, rudimentary elements transform and essentially blossom with heat. They go from doughy, sticky, relatively unattractive and half-formed to utterly sublime.

And it got me thinking about people.

When touched by heat of passion (be it ardor for another person, love of a band or the unmitigated joy you feel when you bite into a perfectly prepared sandwich), we change. From misshapen doughballs to fully formed individuals. This heat gives them a purpose – be it to spend the rest of their lives with that one person, attend all the shows, learn all the words and buy all the merch or to consume that sandwich with the ferocity of a ravenous zombie horde.

I get the feeling that most people wander around partially cooked — still doughy on the inside

I don’t want to be like that — half-formed and fully unaware of all the wonder around me. I want to start paying more attention and taking better notice of the world around me. Essentially, I want to fall in love every day with something new.

And right now, I think love starts with a cup of coffee and a hot, buttered bagel.