Awake and camped out at New Wave.
My first job ever was working at The Advanced Newspapers. I started when I was 15 filing ads and doing layout and typing for editors and helping the photographers. I got paid $6 an hour for like 15 hours a week during the school year and close to full time for two summers before getting a valet parking job at the Gerald R Ford International Airport. There are only two outstanding life experiences I garnered from The Advance: 1) somehow I managed to have two boyfriends without realizing it, meaning that I cheated on First Ever Boyfriend and Second Ever Boyfriend, setting myself up for a lifetime of dating debauchery. And 2) it was always fucking COLD in that office! I had to dress like it was January every day for two summers, looking like an 85 year old woman right up until I stepped into the office, where I fit in.
I’m flash backing big time right now! In my little skirt and wife beater (for the outside world), and long sleeve t shirt and sweater (for the FROZEN New Wave world). I also accidentally have two boyfriends.
1 – PT:
PT and His BF - Pronto Pup
2) Food:
This Face... All Weekend
Am I drinking tequila with a spoon? Could I be eating some alcohol infused soup? Or a Brandy Alexander?
Regular Old Mint Oreo Blizzard
I love food. I love eating. And I did a lot of it this weekend in Michigan. It had been a few months since I’ve been home so we had to make up for lost time. Grilling, baking cakes and cookies, ice cream. Grilling. More grilling. Smores. You know the drill. It is the most American thing about me, my vegetarian love of grilling every meal in the summer months. My dad, who is about as adventurous as an 87 year old Baptist from Georgia, commented to his coworker, ‘When my daughter comes to town we eat really weird food.’ This time ‘weird’ was fish tacos. Bygones.
Me Beating the Shit Out of My Brother Adam
I hung with my bros, we went to the drive in, we played bocce ball and bean bags until our arms were sore. Mine still is, honestly. But now we are back to the daily grind. You know, afternoons spent at New Wave blogging. GRIND.
But this week grind is going to include reading all 356 tiny print pages of Loving Frank, which just came in, before Monday’s Knitting Book Club. Yikes. I finished The Hours this morning and was left feeling appropriotly depressed, which means the book was good, right? Loving Frank better be a page turner or I’m going to be unprepared for my own book club. Talk about embarassing.
