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Tuesday, November 1
100
Today's blog is the 100th. The end of the line. And I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't kind of planned this one. Sure, there were a few variables, but I like to get my way (a lot), and in general, I do. For your reading pleasure, I give you The Barium Blog. Like so many blogs, it was created on a challenge of sorts -- from me to my oldest friend in the world. (I'll forgive you for the mullet if you forgive me for the bangs. And the glasses. And the jumpsuit, for chrissakes.) I can't ever fully explain why I blog; obviously, I like to write and I'm as narcissistic as the next girl, but I don't know what keeps me at it day after day. My best way of explaining it is to make someone try it, so I made a blog for Michael, and one year later, he tried it. I like what he's done with the place, and I'm hoping by making him my 100th blog, he'll stick with it.
He hasn't written a lot yet, so let me tell you a few things: He knows more about me than anyone on the planet, but do not attempt to get this knowledge out of him, people. That's not nice. He always makes me laugh. Except for when he's pissing me off, which he frequently does whenever he's right and I'm ... not. He has a hell of a lot of opinions. And he tells you how things are, even when it's hard to hear and you'd much rather have the sugar-coated version. (Can't I get the sugar-coated version just once? C'mon, I'm a girl!) And he plays too much Everquest. That's all. Now go.
posted @ 1:07 PM |
99 blogs on the wall
Today's blog is Busted Stuff, featuring the writings of Trish, a "morning radio jock, punk rock mom, superhero, high priestess of DIY and all-around awesome babe." She wants kids to be kids. No, seriously. She's totally willing to back that up with some violence, yo. And boobs. Okay, I just like saying boobs. Also, she may just be the coolest mother ever, but maybe I covered that at "punk rock mom"?
posted @ 6:10 PM |
This means war
My stomach wants food, but my throat has other ideas. Actually, it said, "Nothing's coming through me. Except maybe water. Or Dew. Dew is always okay." I'm in a tough place here, people.
posted @ 9:31 AM |
Lessons learned
Either the sickness is making me weak and/or maudlin, or I've just been contemplating things a bit too much lately. I've been thinking over this little project of mine, the blogs I've read, the people I've encountered, the things I've discovered about myself, the silly joy the blogosphere still brings me. Which brings me to today's blog, Lessons from the Kissing Booth. Okay, I'm still easily swayed by a good tagline: "Nothing is certain but death and tchotchkes." But there's more to it than that. Simply put, I like the way she writes: "Whenever I feel like my skin is showing all of my secrets, I remember how he put up billboards of an empty bed all over New York as a tribute to his deceased lover." Or what she says: "Sometimes the nights smell softly of wet paint while an album I remember from the days before freedom plays in the background. That's the only time now when an animal faith in the length of my bones is enough. Too often I find myself looking into the wrong parts of people's eyes."
And I just liked the juxtaposition of ee cummings and computers.
posted @ 3:41 PM |
Now that the dining is over, it's time for some whining
Why is it that whenever I have more than two consecutive days off I get sick? Thanksgiving is my favorite freaking holiday (All you have to do is eat! It's glorious!), and I wake up Thursday morning with the Vadar voice. And I'm just getting worse. I was all set to curl up with the Pats game this afternoon, and f-ing Kansas City sucks whatever meager joy was left in my life. Where the fuck are the mashed potatoes?!
posted @ 1:00 PM |
And then there were four
I can't believe it, but I'm down to my last four blogs. I feel like there should be some significant countdown, and, for some reason, I feel some pressure to make these four really amazing blogs. Well, they're good, or I wouldn't link to them, but I think the 37th blog is just as important as the 97th. That said, today's blog is mildly obsessive (unscripted), which combines photos with words. And I don't know why, but I like this shot of shoes, and the words that accompany it are the blogger's constant questioning of her work. And she has some interesting things to say about influences: "In my head there are still pictures of incidents and experiences. In my head these pictures are full of colour or black and white but definitely stills with absolute details of everything. I live of those experiences, past, present and future. These pictures come about when inspiration comes about."
posted @ 12:38 PM |
Brevity, wit, etc.
Tonight, I must be brief. Blog? I Am the Caitlinator. Why? "There's not enough space on this planet to describe the likes of me." And there's not enough time for me to say more.
Update: Sorry about that, we had a wee internet outage here at bjg. Might I suggest you read this post? Or perhaps this one?
posted @ 7:58 PM |
To infinity and beyond
Today's blog is The Boiled Egg of Infinity. First off, the title alone gets him honorable mention, but he gets bonus points for cracking me up repeatedly. (You're right, I haven't done many serious blogs. Well, 100% serious blogs, anyway. I guess I don't really relate to people who don't know how to take the world with a big, fat grain of salt and a side of laughter.)
Despite the whole chronological nature of blogging, he still can't keep track of time: "When the hell did it get so late in the year? You would think having a blog would help with the whole 'keeping track of time' thing, but apparently not: I'm as hopelessly lost and ill-organised as ever, only now I have documentary evidence to show people." It's important to have proof of your own ineptitude; otherwise they don't believe you. And I just really liked his adventures with wax, because I've tried to do the same thing and met with about equal success.
posted @ 8:48 PM |
Don't mess around with gender roles
There may be a reason why women cook in the kitchen and men watch football in another room. I tried the "cook and watch football" route this afternoon and wasn't quite successful. Dawn wanted to know if I was done making the mashed potatoes, and I wanted to know if Dallas had a first down. She had to tell me three times that the milk was heated, and I asked Dave three times if Bledsoe had thrown another interception. In the end, I think my mashed potatoes were yummy, but Dawn was one more "C'mon! Third and 1 and they can't get a down?!" away from killing me. And f-ing Denver won in OT. Luckily, I could drown my sorrows in mashed potatoes.
posted @ 9:29 PM |
Things to be thankful for
I'm thankful Jen sucked me into running like an idiot, because it's the only thing that's going to keep me from gaining 800 pounds this weekend. I'm thankful for wee nephews and way-too-old nieces, beautiful sisters, friends, and ridiculous amounts of food, including but not limited to mashed potatoes and pie. Did I mention pie? But tonight, I'm most thankful for my fat pants. You are glorious and all that is forgiving in pantswear. It is you who make the extra whipped cream followed by a glass of eggnog possible. Oh, fat pants, I sing to you.
Ahem. Also, in honor of today's day o' eating, I give you: Will Type for Food. Sure, they're Australian, so they don't celebrate the whole "yeah! colonization" thing, but still. They celebrate the slight emotions, like "Sunday listlessness" or "Bemused contemplation of future lust." Also, they are direct and to the point whilst being slightly abusive. So my favorite thing. Well, after making fun of famous poets and their wonderful yet ridiculous poetry.
posted @ 8:09 PM |
Apparently, I don't dream the future
Which is a good thing, because I dreamed about my girls the other night. (Yeah, I know. It's sad when you dream about watching a basketball game. Shut it.) In the dream, they were up 4-0 at the half, and the refs kept calling offsides, like it was soccer. And in dreams, much as in real life, I was screaming at the refs that they were crazy.
Luckily, today BC dispatched Vermont easily. Normally, I wouldn't blog about a relatively insignificant win like this, but sophomore Laura Lokitis had a career-high 22 points (she scored 23 points total last season), Rache watched the game with me, and I fucking love women's basketball. That's all.
posted @ 5:28 PM |
In honor of the holidays
I give you: Tension is to be loved. I don't know what it is, but I am a sucker for a good tag line: "More neurotic than a vegan marathon runner." And, perhaps because I've lived for far too long with my very favorite vegetarian, I found her guide to not dressing like a vegetarian to be both amusing and useful. (But now I really wish I had a picture of Jen in her "Powered by Tofu" t-shirt. She pulls it off, people, I swear.)
I also just kind of like pictures of holes in the wall. Can't say why, really.
posted @ 4:54 PM |
You had me at "smells like noodles"
Okay, this may be the first blog where I decided to pick it just by reading the brief "about" section. Boredom is written by Eric Lim, who "smells like noodles; enjoys driving in traffic in the Los Angeles area; is scared of girls; tries to make people feel bad; is allergic to hot wings; Go Fish champion; and is an aspiring writer who doesn't write." He's also got some serious road rage, though nowhere near as intense as mine. (I don't care what anyone says, Boston drivers are bad-ass muthas.) And he's tired of capitalism, and everyone fucking walking around with their goddamn earbuds in. Can we just pause, remove our fucking cell phones from our ears, turn our damn iPods off, and pay attention to the world around us for one freaking second?
No? Okay.
posted @ 6:50 PM |
You don't bring me flowers anymore
In fact, you bitches never brought me flowers and here I've brought you 90 different blogs. That's a serious bouquet, people. Add one more to the arrangement: Not a Shrinking Violet. But, uh, she's serious about that "not shrinking" part; she even has something to say to her hair: "I have a bone to pick with you. This shouldn’t be a surprise, considering you’re an asshole." Sure, I anthropomorphize my locks, too, but I feel like my hair is less of an asshole and more of a lazy bitch who won't do anything no matter what I do. Bygones. I really picked Liv because of her three-way with Nordstrom's and J. Jill. Or because she loves Dylan. Clearly a woman of discerning taste.
posted @ 5:34 PM |
C note
Today's blog is Girl Meets World. Because I'm having a Grey's Anatomy kind of weekend. And C takes pictures of her feet. And she writes letters to Courtney Love. And she's embarked upon the big overhaul, for which she needs courage, tenacity, and a good sense of humor: "I’m not trying to be Nicole Richie but I need to make my health a priority - even at the risk of alienating my longtime lover, cheese." Oh, cheese, how I miss you.
posted @ 8:06 PM |
I learned it from watching you
I caught my roommate's crazy. For the last two days, I have gone out in the cold with merely running pants and a long-sleeve shirt on. I pass others on the street -- wearing winter coats, hats, gloves, scarves -- and they all give me the same "You are fucking crazy" look. And I can't argue with them.
But once you get going, the cold almost feels ... good.
posted @ 2:35 PM |
Really, it's because I like feathers
Today's blog is Quill of the Saucy Monk. Because he's on top of the language police. And while he may never have said these things, just thinking them is enough for me. And ... oh, fuck, just trust me, okay? Now go. I have to wallow in my freakish misery forever, so I'm quite busy.
posted @ 4:32 PM |
The comfort of friends
Me: I hate my life.
Jen: That's because it sucks.
posted @ 9:59 PM |
It's like crying, but worse
Today's blog is Caterwauling. Because she watches medical dramas and cries. And because she talks to the characters like they're real. And she hates stupid people and gets to the movies early. Yeah, that's right, I like her because she reminds me of me. Have you learned nothing from the last 87 days?
Okay, before you get all cranky, she also thinks about and asks important questions: "Wishing isn’t a bad thing — seeing mental pictures of the life ahead of us and wanting good things for ourselves truly are the first steps toward achieving happiness. When you aspire to nothing, then you get what you paid for, so to speak. I think it was Peter Drucker who said that we all rise to our own level of incompetence — my question, then, is what happens to us after that? Do we resign ourselves to being comfortable in our own mediocrity, or do we envision where we want to go next? And can we get anywhere without some kind of mental roadmap?" Well, can we? I need answers here, people.
posted @ 8:32 PM |
Again with the cats. And the pants.
Today's blog is Maison Pants. I'm not really sure why -- well, I know why (I like reading her site, you twits) -- I just can't pinpoint the exact cause with quick and easy links. She's honest about her life. She clearly has sense of humor. She's short. And there's just something about the cats. And the pants.
posted @ 4:46 PM |
Color commentary
I added comments to my blog about six months after I got started. I had mixed feelings about it then, and I have mixed feelings now. It's a love/hate relationship. Sometimes the lack of response is frustrating, and sometimes the response you get is not the response you want. I try to leave the comments up, regardless of what they say, though I did break down and delete someone once. And I felt bad about it, but I knew it was the right decision to make. Ultimately, this is my site, and I choose what to host here. That's not the point, anyway. The point is that we bloggers are an insecure lot. We love comments because they mean that someone actually reads what we write. Sure, we love our site stats, too, but just because someone hit you doesn't mean he read you. Or liked you. (In fact, my current stat gatherer tells me how long someone stays on my site, and let me tell you, that is some depressing shit right there.) I've had a few posts that garnered a serious comment count, but when you are a Grammar Bitch, believe in same-sex marriage, and encourage people to self-promote, what do you expect? It's the everyday posts, the ones where you put yourself out there, exposed, that need reassurance, empathy. Comment love.
This all started because Brandon is apparently obsessed with the F5 button (people, I don't use that shit on a Mac), and Romy had some high school experience that didn't involve the F5 button, but it made sense anyway. And Pea doesn't get that much traffic, which I so cannot believe. Hello? Who doesn't read Pea? Anyway, Pea tagged me next, and so now y'all have to leave me at least 100 comments or the meme dies here, and I don't want to the be the lame one, okay, people? I don't want to be lame.
Maybe I should give you more to think about. Like boobs. Or why we do this crazy blogging thing, anyway. I know if I never received another comment, I would still write here. If my stats dwindled to nothing, I'd still write here. Would I remove the counter and the comment functions? Hell, yes. I don't need that kind of negativity staring me in the face. I just need the words and the space to write them in.
posted @ 9:03 AM |
Here, kitty, kitty
Today's blog is Space Kitten. Why? Hello, did you not just read the word "kitten"? Well, it may also have something to do with the pink hair. And her life in t-shirts (you know how I feel about those). But it goes beyond these superficialities, people. You knew it would. She also wants to get off the upwardly mobile treadmill: "I miss the days when engaging in social interactions didn't lead to anxiety about my life and what I'm doing with it." Me, too, sister.
But what really clinched the deal was her life as a movie. I'd quote a bit, but you really just need to read the whole thing. No, really, go. Now.
posted @ 9:02 AM |
Does anyone else find that Choxie commercial disturbing?
No? Well, that's not the point, anyway. The point is my sister didn't know that moxie was something more than that disturbingly flavored beverage, and my mom and I mocked her heartily for it. Wait, that isn't the point, either. The point is this: The blog of the day is Moxilicious. Because, well, she's got moxie, and she reads too many celebrity magazines. She also tends to have deep thoughts whenever she's sick: "Maybe if Maverick had actually cried when he gave Goose’s personal effects to Meg Ryan, a generation or two of men wouldn’t feel like they had to be pillars of stone during emotional times."
And while recovering from the flu, she contemplated the nature of secrets: "No matter how benign they are or how hard we try not to think about them, secrets are never a light burden. Holding things close to the vest is part of human nature, of individual identity, and it's ingrained in the ego because secrets make us feel certain ways that are secret unto themselves."
posted @ 6:52 PM |
A date with myself
Last night, I took myself to the movies, and the great thing was: I got to pick the movie. Being a girl and being in the mood to be a girl, I chose Pride and Prejudice. Matthew MacFadyen is so fine. Oh, so fine. Dare I say, dreamy even. Oh, sigh. Oh, big sigh. I didn't care much about the movie, really, I just wanted a happy ending. The BBC version with Colin Firth was more faithful and objectively better, but this one has its place, too. Did I mention Matthew MacFadyen? Also, I thought the actress who played Jane was better in this incarnation, though Keira Knightley took the giggling a little too far as Lizzie.
posted @ 9:45 AM |
Down and dirty
Today's blog is Lady Muck, mostly because she's British and she uses phrases like "dodgy" and "tits up." But she's also a runner, and my kind of runner at that: "You're told that certain life experiences will be milestones of ecstasy. Then they happen, and they're not. I didn't feel ecstatic upon finishing my first marathon; I felt like a heavy vehicle was reversing over my body, and I wanted to curl up into a tiny ball in bed, covered by ten heavy blankets and being cooed at by Radio 4." Yeah, I keep waiting for the "runner's high," too, and it ain't coming.
I can also sympathize with her mouse problem, as I tend to get paranoid and think they are zombies scratching at my door. Or something. And she doesn't know her RSS from her elbow, and, well, that just made me laugh.
posted @ 7:31 PM |
The complete idiot's guide to happiness
Things that make me happy today (in no particular order): Martha's Vineyard photos. (Was it really that beautiful?) Random gifts from great friends. (Though I suspect she may have just been trying to stop me from blogging about Bob more.) Ash. Comic strips featuring me, me, me. The return of women's ball. New music. Pink Patriots' socks. And fall's slow, inevitable decline into winter.
posted @ 10:44 AM |
Before reality sets in
Today was my first game of the season. (The first official game was on Friday, and I missed it whilst I was on the island. I'm still pissed.) I love the first game, when the whole season lies before you and you can still kid yourself that BC has a chance in the ACC this year. When Queenan looks so good you could cry, and Aja is so fierce, and you forgive Ress for making seven turnovers because you know, you just know, that if she stops putting the ball on the floor she will score a bazillion points. You yell at the refs, but it's good-natured and not like someone was personally stripping you of your dignity by missing that blatant mugging. You like the look of the new freshmen because, though they have their flaws, they are hungry. And, if nothing else, we don't have to play UConn this year.
Oh, fuck.
posted @ 4:01 PM |
White out
Today's blog is the white room // no more lies. Why? Because his hair is a barometer for his emotional state: "My hair looks like someone ignited it with a torch and then hastily put it out with a large blanket, leaving a mass of smoking charred frizz in its wake. Imagine how dandy I must be feeling inside." My hair says a lot about me, too -- mainly that I don't care enough to put the time in to make it have life. Bygones. He also perfectly captures that post-movie glow. And sloth, gluttony, and Mountain Dew? Those are three of my favorite things.
posted @ 3:43 PM |
Opining
Today's blog is Fat Lady Walking. Because she's opinionated, and she's not afraid to tell it like she sees it. And I dig that in a blog. I don't always agree with her, but the best writing challenges your assumptions and makes you think. (Personally, I think the Accused is so effective because Foster isn't sympathetic, but that's a whole other post.)
Also, she is so right about Jimmy Smits.
posted @ 8:16 PM |
Drawn and quartered
Sure, we've had comic-strip blogs. And photo blogs. And the occasional writer's blog. But have we had an illustrator's blog? I think not. Today, I give you A Girl Who Creates, because I value creativity in all its many forms. I'd point you to a few specific posts, but I can't seem to find permalinks. So poke around. I did, and I found the best duckies in the May archive. (August has some good stuff, too.)
posted @ 1:14 PM |
Down with the sickness
When a show makes you physically ill, I think it may be time to call it quits. So fuck you, ER. Fuck you. You've messed with my head for the last time, you bastards.
Today has called for a radical readjustment of my self-image. You know, I've always considered myself to be kind of tough -- tougher than Riff, not quite as tough as Bernardo -- but today, I rode a ferry for the first time. I've never been much of a boat girl (not being able to swim makes one avoid the water), but I always assumed that I would be fine. Uh, yeah. Not quite. Why does it have to bob so much? And the, the ... ick? I went out to the top deck (my mom claimed the air is supposed to help), and damn if that didn't make it worse.
In sum: A TV show and a boat made me sick today. I am a total wuss.
posted @ 7:50 PM |
Where are the grapes? And who's this Martha?
I'm headed to Martha's Vineyard for the weekend, so I may miss a day or two on the blog. I'll do my best to sneak off for some illicit internet loving, but I can't make any promises. I'm hoping it won't rain, and I'll get some good pictures. If nothing else, it will be quality time with my mom and sister, right? Right?
posted @ 6:10 AM |
Retrofit
Today's blog is Tiny Cat Pants. Again, I am cheap for a good blog title and a good Midwest quiz. She pretty much had me at Walt Whitman and cats, but she threw in a "women don't need men," and I was a goner.
posted @ 6:03 AM |
Feeling adventurous
Today's blog is the Adventures of Mr. K. Why? Because I have a soft spot for teachers with grammar wands. No, seriously: A wand of grammar from which to issue invisible lightning bolts and to help lead the class in song, because "teaching writing is fine and all, but watching a 17-year-old kid wave a duct-tape-covered Riddler's cane while standing on a chair is why I don't switch to a more financially rewarding career."
Also, he said syllabi.
posted @ 6:45 PM |
Because sometimes a woman needs a little help
I totally stole today's blog from Duff, because she's good like that and how can you not love a woman with a URL like crankymonkeybutt.com? So, if you're not already reading her stuff, do it. And read Elizabeth Crane, while you're at it, because she is funny as hell. No, seriously. For instance, what would Britney say to William Bennett? "Anyway I dunno if you’ve heard of it? But there’s this like, sort of religion? Called Kabbalah? And it’s all ancient or whatever? And it’s all about light? And it’s totally not in code or anything? And I think it could help you come into contact with your consciousness? Which you seem to be out of contact with cuz if you were you’d know that even thinking about killing black babies, like, isn’t very nice?"
Besides writing crazy shit about the Federlines, she also has deep thoughts. And I can't help believing that my Ben is out there, too.
posted @ 3:27 PM |
Sleepyhead
Me: I'm exhausted. I need to get more sleep.
Friend: Well, you could get 8 hours and still be tired. It could be related to stress or your emotional health.
Me: (silence)
Friend: I'm just saying.
posted @ 8:02 PM |
Just fastidious
Today's blog is Fussy. Because she likes t-shirts (almost as much as I do). Because I totally got the random movie quote she slipped in this post (do you?). And she comes up with fun ways to beat insomnia, which I'm going to try tonight. Good night, and good luck, people.
posted @ 7:52 PM |
Not quite biodegradable
Today's blog is Styrofoam Kitty. Why? Because blogging has jumped the shark. Because the power of Christ compels me to make it so. Because suddenly every blogger I read loves Serenity and Joss Whedon. Because I said so, that's why.
posted @ 1:40 PM |
That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, Bingo
Today's blog is 52 Cupcakes. Why? Because I like a woman on a mission, and I think that 52 cupcakes in 52 weeks is way better than 100 blogs in 100 days. (Did y'all know we're on day 75? Yeah, I can't believe it, either.) The point is this: The woman was guaranteed a spot on the list, not only because looking at her site incites cupcake blood-lust, but also because she made cupcakes from my alma mater, and that must be rewarded.
Warning: Don't read on an empty stomach, unless you want dinner to be 52 cupcakes consumed faster than that guy eating Nathan's hot dogs.
posted @ 7:09 PM |
For your reading pleasure
Today's blog is Words For My Enjoyment. Is it because I need yet another blog by a writer? Maybe. (Misery loves company, etc.) Is it because he uses Scrabble tiles in his blog design? Perhaps. More than likely it's because he is the king of resetting clocks, and that is very important twice a year (or whenever the power goes out).
Really, I just feel a kinship to anyone whose life was changed by Bonnie Tyler's video for Total Eclipse of the Heart. I know I've never been the same since I saw it. And, as a courtesy, he gives all of us stuck in Dating Land (like Candy Land but less sweet) a few choice alternatives to the old break-up standard, "It's not you, it's me."
posted @ 8:12 PM |
Home sweet home
I can only take so much New York before I want to kill myself and others, which meant a sweet and swift ride home on the Acela was in order this evening. Sure, it was an extra $30, but it was worth it. Anything was worth it to be back where I belong. It would have been a heavenly ride with lots of leg room if it hadn't been for Mr. Incessant Talker sitting in front of me. I didn't know a human being could talk for three hours without stopping, but I'm here to testify, people. Next time, I'm sitting in the f-ing quiet car.
Bygones. I'm home now, and to honor my glorious and triumphant return, I give you a JP blog: 12 Frogs. Not 11 frogs, no. Not 13 frogs, nope. 12. He's been going for four years now, so don't mess with his cake. Also, he's godless and going to hell for his laundry habits. (Aren't we all?) To make this blog perfect, what else do you need? Sick Joss Whedon love. My work here is done.
posted @ 8:10 PM |
Picture this
Me, wandering around Manhattan, taking tourist shots like a dork. Yeah, it was good times. See 'em for yourself.
I'm officially tired of New York now. Can I go home?
posted @ 9:20 PM |
No clue
In honor of wandering around like an idiot in New York, today's blog is Clueless in Carolina. She's actually more clued in than she lets on, and she's not afraid to tell it like it is. She's also not afraid of lying to her children, which I appreciate. Ahh, hell, who am I kidding? She cracks me up.
posted @ 7:20 PM |
A bite of the Big Apple
You know, the more I realize New York is all about food, the more I like the city. Don't get me wrong, it's still a land of chaos and evil (where, it's true, some cool people live). Despite the work of Satan's minions that goes on here, there are some good times to be had.
For instance, tonight I had dinner at the Brooklyn Diner, and I sat in a booth where once Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker sat. There, with my ass practically communing with precious celebrity ass, I ate the world's largest quantity of pot roast and strawberry-blonde cheesecake. Then I hauled myself to see Wicked, my very first New York show. And it was ridiculously fun. Then I returned home to the Hilton, ready to blog and drink Mountain Dew from a wine glass. I'm telling you, this city is classing me up or something.
Tomorrow night, I'm eating at Craft. And then, then I'm rolling myself home. In honor of all this deliciousness, I give you A Blithe Palate. (See how I'm all super-sneaky about the blog of the day? I think NYC's ways may be rubbing off on me.)
posted @ 7:46 PM |
Yes, Virginia
They really do honk their horns incessantly in New York. People, c'mon! Honk all you want, the cars ain't gonna move.
Also, the falafel is all that and more. Now back to the magazining. (Okay, wait. Geek moment #834: I was right there last night! It's almost like I know Kottke! Or not.)
posted @ 9:28 AM |