July 2010
11 posts
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I may hug people too hard and get lost at malls. But I’m not an idiot.
– Tracy Jordan, 30 Rock (via inothernews) (via whitneyricketts)
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Memory Bank
At the age of seven, I had a chance run-in with Seattle’s first female newscaster and the first permanent female evening news anchor in the country, Jean Enersen. We met at Baskin-Robbins. I had just won an ongoing battle with my mother to buy me a clown cone, a monstrosity that looks something like this:Â
Clown cones were consistently stale and tasted like the freezer case, yet I have...
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Memory Bank
One of the bad boys in my sophomore Spanish class showed me that if you shake an unopened package of Airheads vigorously back and forth it will eventually be reduced to a nugget of viciously-flavored taffy. As an adult, I recently found out this also works with Lara Bars. Disappointingly, neither Airheads nor Lara Bars carry the lively puns of their chewy packaged peer: Laffy Taffy.
...
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It’s not that I’m necessarily emotionally attached to the 1,000 back issues of...
– Yipster, a must-read new favorite
And yes, I realize that I’ve left you all out in the cold lately, much like those New Yorkers on my bedside table. Life in general and my colon specifically has thrown all sorts of complications my way this past month. I’ll be back soon. Hopefully with...
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IN WHICH WE NAME OUR GAME
When I'm feeling down, Whitney sends me old chats. In the following, she is "me" and I am "Drew," which I suppose I always am. We still haven't started that blog.
Drew: Good Slacks & A Sensible Blouse. We should start a blog and call it that.
me: kill me with Angela Lansbury
Drew: You love it
me: how about Bleach & Guns Like Lady Gaga in The Videophone Music Video Dot Com
Drew: That does not describe us
Drew: Get real
Drew: More like Stretch Pants with Sauce Stains
Drew: Bang Wars and Supercuts
me: Bang Wars in Bangalore
Drew: I Wash My Bangs in the Sink
Drew: Clean in the Front, Dirty in the Back
Drew: The Only Clean Article Of Clothing On My Person is My Underpants (Maybe)
June 2010
12 posts
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A Continuum Between the Two
Me: twin brains?
Whitney: you are my parasitic twin (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parasitic_twin)
Me: I "maintain dominant development at the expense of the other."
Me: wait am I the opposite? Are you the dominant twin? That's just cold.
Whitney: we take turns
Me: okay perfect. What's your schedule like?
Whitney: this week? Wide open for sucking your blood.
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Menus for Feelings
Oppressive Ennui in the Frozen Foods Aisle
Jalapeno poppers, Smucker’s Uncrustables
Abandoned Passive-Aggressive GChats
Wilted lettuce. Salted luncheon meats.
No Friends at the Potluck
Spanakopita with stray hair. Rice pudding to finish.
Secret Shame
Angel food cake slathered in mayonnaise.
Free Clinic Handsome
Me: Is he cute?
Mona: He's cute in the "Seattle doesn't have a lot of attractive people" kind of way.
Me: Something akin to Public Transportation Hot.
Mona: Exactly.
May 2010
23 posts
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Winners, All of You!
I’m so happy to announce that the lovely Amy has won the Debra Macki for Yellow Umbrella eye shadow giveaway! Exclamation point!
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Contrasting Comforts
Just had my nails done by a woman who brutally beat me about the back after dipping my hands in paraffin & swaddling them in sandwich wrap. A brilliant way to start the weekend.
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Man Food Thursday / Meltdown O'Clock
Nick: Man Food Thursday?
Me: Yes!
Nick: we have chicken wings?
Me: Yes. I bought them. They are in the freezer.
Nick: We need blue cheese dressing.
Me: I can pick up some stuff on my way home if I leave early enough. The cast of Twilight is on Oprah today.
Nick: gross.
Me: LET ME HAVE MY THINGS. IT IS ALL I HAVE LEFT.
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Understatement of the Century, Anne M. Martin
During the series, Kristy has little interest in boys and clothes but later finds herself attracted to Bart, a boy who also happens to coach a softball team, Bart’s Bashers, in Stoneybrook. Later on, they break up due to the strong feelings Bart maintains for Kristy, which she is unable to reciprocate.
- Wikipedia, The Baby-Sitters Club
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April 2010
17 posts
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Hannibal Unmasked, Perhaps
My office looks out onto a wildlife trail. The woman currently walking alongside the creek seems prepped and ready for contemplative b-roll shots, maybe for an episode of 48 Hour Mystery or a documentary about black market organ harvesting. You know the look.
True story: during a Valentine’s Day weekend away with Nick I found myself trapped in our romantic Portland hotel room uncontrollably...