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Guhhhhgghhh. I am wading through all the kaplan workshops I blew off this weekend, and it just...hurts. If I don't complete them before tonight though I will forfeit my Higher Score Guarentee, so. This is my little break before I plunge into my Applied Arithmetic Workshop.
This weekend I: pretty much ate nothing but meat and ice cream. How sick is that? I washed it down with wine, starting Saturday morning at 10AM when James surreptitiously (applying my GRE vocab cards, A+ student, holla!) slipped me a 2-liter Fresca bottle of Cavit. We sloshed our way up to Boston playing dj on our shared ipod and both agreed it was an excellent decision.
(The caption for this photo read, "Cavit Pinot Grigio is sophisticated." Pray tell!)
Out of laziness, here is a list of activities that happened this weekend. I swam in a pool, sunbathed, barbequed, sucked at put-put golf, did pretty good at the batting cages, got eaten by mosquitos, tripped my face off, started crying during the middle of Microcosmos (look at this! you would too!)
...skinny dipped, took skinny dipping pictures, erased said skinny dipping pictures, went face-first down the water slide (not scary), imagined being alone in the ocean when a blue whale or giant squid rises up 20 feet away from me and I'm all alone with this enormous ancient creature (really scary), and hung tight with friends.
I also told a lot of...tepid stories that went flat and people didn't really 'feel' them. What can you do? When I'm a little nervous I just throw as much shit against the wall as I can find, and I hope some of it sticks. It's better than my old tactic of clamming up and looking bored all the time, I think? And why am I telling you this? I guess so you don't judge my bad stories too harshly. Like this one, that I just wrote, which isn't even a story.
One last thing: Jess Wolf's boyfriend was watching a lot of World Cup this weekend and I love world cup players, as you know, so I thought I'd end this entry with a spicy picture, but instead I found this:
A...CG image of what the world cup winners...might look like?
This weekend I: pretty much ate nothing but meat and ice cream. How sick is that? I washed it down with wine, starting Saturday morning at 10AM when James surreptitiously (applying my GRE vocab cards, A+ student, holla!) slipped me a 2-liter Fresca bottle of Cavit. We sloshed our way up to Boston playing dj on our shared ipod and both agreed it was an excellent decision.
(The caption for this photo read, "Cavit Pinot Grigio is sophisticated." Pray tell!)
Out of laziness, here is a list of activities that happened this weekend. I swam in a pool, sunbathed, barbequed, sucked at put-put golf, did pretty good at the batting cages, got eaten by mosquitos, tripped my face off, started crying during the middle of Microcosmos (look at this! you would too!)
...skinny dipped, took skinny dipping pictures, erased said skinny dipping pictures, went face-first down the water slide (not scary), imagined being alone in the ocean when a blue whale or giant squid rises up 20 feet away from me and I'm all alone with this enormous ancient creature (really scary), and hung tight with friends.
I also told a lot of...tepid stories that went flat and people didn't really 'feel' them. What can you do? When I'm a little nervous I just throw as much shit against the wall as I can find, and I hope some of it sticks. It's better than my old tactic of clamming up and looking bored all the time, I think? And why am I telling you this? I guess so you don't judge my bad stories too harshly. Like this one, that I just wrote, which isn't even a story.
One last thing: Jess Wolf's boyfriend was watching a lot of World Cup this weekend and I love world cup players, as you know, so I thought I'd end this entry with a spicy picture, but instead I found this:
A...CG image of what the world cup winners...might look like?