I wish you all could see me nakid right now
My usual assumption when faced with the greasy practicality of Sports sunscreen is that it's an SPF 50. Despite this, after realizing I was using an SPF 15 this weekend, I shrugged it off. I mean, I would only be out for a few hours. On and in a lake. In a bikini and shorts.
Now , I look like Phoenix because of certain viral red and yellowed shiny burn lines. The most prominent of all of them is a livid red triangle on my chest, peaking at it's upper corners and slightly jagged in it's burn so that the phoenix symbol is blazing brilliantly, shockingly on my lily skin.
It's pretty impressive.
I'm still Solercaning my arms and chest.
I am rather a pale girl.
Last night I was watching world news on the BBC -- the North Korean missal launch, tanks in Gaza, etc... but the grand finale was nothing short of a report on how Rose was leaving Dr. Who and who was replacing her. You should have seen me.
Oh England.
Feel free to talk about the missels and tanks and such, BTW.
This is an obligatory "what public appearances I'm making" post, I reckon. I'm probably heading over to the Abbey Pub tomorrow night around 9 for dinner and Mucca Pazza. My gals and I will be getting our sexy on. This is what happens when sake and 6 people in a 3 bed camper combine.
Our plans for the midnight PotC2 may be replaced by our logic and good sense. When you have a pack of people who have a passion for pirates, every night can be opening night. Either tonight or Saturday, at any rate, there will be Pirates. Not that people haven't been mentioning them to me all month at the office for obvious reasons. I'm not sure how I marked that territory, but yar indeed.
Everyone should come up in 2 weeks and party. Less than two weeks. Party. Yeeessss.
It's true, my baby is undrivable. Now you'll have to ride around in an old person's beige Buick. Nana and I have decided to make Beige Buicks the new sexy, so if you see some topless girls in old people's cars, you know why.
This weekend I went to bed by: 5am, 3am, 5am, 2am, 3am.
I also had: 4 guys ask for my phone number, gave a producer my phone number, discovered I owned the greatest sell out tee shirt ever, read a book, listened to a lot of Morrisey, drank tasty liquor, ate delectable crack baby, had my bum slapped on the hour, danced while the world was watching, discovered a new invasive species among us, admitted horrible secrets, had a very romantic canoe ride with lush wild flowers, mossy trees and dragonflies everywhere gettin it on, had my bikini top untied, had my bikini bottoms untied, ate more crack baby, ate gelatto 3 times, ate meat, ate more meat, heard stories of the tanooki, got 20 mosquito bites on my feet, was erupted upon by a large public display firework, had separately chunks of firework rain on me the size of my hand, broke into a building, watched Carnivale and The Storyteller, listened to some jazz bass, flipped through a guitar catalogue the way many look at cars, was told my presence made someone's night lovely a week ago, spent time with my wife, played with a baby, ate more baby, encouraged mooning, encouraged some underwear to go out a window, reasserted my innocence, ate marshmallows for breakfast, walked barefoot on gravel, chatted with a woman who will star in a movie many of you will watch, planned a trip for a Sunday picnic at the Vegas Show Girls club, listened to 80s rock in Wisconsin (since such seems appropriate as soon as you cross the border), realized I'm smarter than sales people...or just have less tolerance than they have stamina, kicked it back alley style, saw nestling baby ducks, got a hotel room stay, bought a Psychedelic Furs album, realized that too many people I know don't know bands like The Psychedelic Furs or the Smiths or Belle and Sebastian or other bands I associate with high school and then got a little weirded out by my age, saw a ton of people I never see, thought a lot of things about the world that took a different POV, strutted in a bride's maid dress, ate from a chocolate fountain, was gifted a chocolate Swiss army knife, found out a friend accidentally once mooned the Swiss army, saw a kitty hot air balloon that was really a disguised Ninja Star -- really, discussed plans to go to Sully camp, and saw that panty pantry for the first time.
Last week I came back from lunch and was told to get Ridley Scott's contact information. I just thought of that because I was asked what his name was again today. I realize it was non sequitur. I also realize that I just poorly used the term non sequitor. Such is the internet.
Now , I look like Phoenix because of certain viral red and yellowed shiny burn lines. The most prominent of all of them is a livid red triangle on my chest, peaking at it's upper corners and slightly jagged in it's burn so that the phoenix symbol is blazing brilliantly, shockingly on my lily skin.
It's pretty impressive.
I'm still Solercaning my arms and chest.
I am rather a pale girl.
Last night I was watching world news on the BBC -- the North Korean missal launch, tanks in Gaza, etc... but the grand finale was nothing short of a report on how Rose was leaving Dr. Who and who was replacing her. You should have seen me.
Oh England.
Feel free to talk about the missels and tanks and such, BTW.
This is an obligatory "what public appearances I'm making" post, I reckon. I'm probably heading over to the Abbey Pub tomorrow night around 9 for dinner and Mucca Pazza. My gals and I will be getting our sexy on. This is what happens when sake and 6 people in a 3 bed camper combine.
Our plans for the midnight PotC2 may be replaced by our logic and good sense. When you have a pack of people who have a passion for pirates, every night can be opening night. Either tonight or Saturday, at any rate, there will be Pirates. Not that people haven't been mentioning them to me all month at the office for obvious reasons. I'm not sure how I marked that territory, but yar indeed.
Everyone should come up in 2 weeks and party. Less than two weeks. Party. Yeeessss.
It's true, my baby is undrivable. Now you'll have to ride around in an old person's beige Buick. Nana and I have decided to make Beige Buicks the new sexy, so if you see some topless girls in old people's cars, you know why.
This weekend I went to bed by: 5am, 3am, 5am, 2am, 3am.
I also had: 4 guys ask for my phone number, gave a producer my phone number, discovered I owned the greatest sell out tee shirt ever, read a book, listened to a lot of Morrisey, drank tasty liquor, ate delectable crack baby, had my bum slapped on the hour, danced while the world was watching, discovered a new invasive species among us, admitted horrible secrets, had a very romantic canoe ride with lush wild flowers, mossy trees and dragonflies everywhere gettin it on, had my bikini top untied, had my bikini bottoms untied, ate more crack baby, ate gelatto 3 times, ate meat, ate more meat, heard stories of the tanooki, got 20 mosquito bites on my feet, was erupted upon by a large public display firework, had separately chunks of firework rain on me the size of my hand, broke into a building, watched Carnivale and The Storyteller, listened to some jazz bass, flipped through a guitar catalogue the way many look at cars, was told my presence made someone's night lovely a week ago, spent time with my wife, played with a baby, ate more baby, encouraged mooning, encouraged some underwear to go out a window, reasserted my innocence, ate marshmallows for breakfast, walked barefoot on gravel, chatted with a woman who will star in a movie many of you will watch, planned a trip for a Sunday picnic at the Vegas Show Girls club, listened to 80s rock in Wisconsin (since such seems appropriate as soon as you cross the border), realized I'm smarter than sales people...or just have less tolerance than they have stamina, kicked it back alley style, saw nestling baby ducks, got a hotel room stay, bought a Psychedelic Furs album, realized that too many people I know don't know bands like The Psychedelic Furs or the Smiths or Belle and Sebastian or other bands I associate with high school and then got a little weirded out by my age, saw a ton of people I never see, thought a lot of things about the world that took a different POV, strutted in a bride's maid dress, ate from a chocolate fountain, was gifted a chocolate Swiss army knife, found out a friend accidentally once mooned the Swiss army, saw a kitty hot air balloon that was really a disguised Ninja Star -- really, discussed plans to go to Sully camp, and saw that panty pantry for the first time.
Last week I came back from lunch and was told to get Ridley Scott's contact information. I just thought of that because I was asked what his name was again today. I realize it was non sequitur. I also realize that I just poorly used the term non sequitor. Such is the internet.