I spent a large part of the weekend lounging around the apartment in just a pair of shorts, eating vegan fudgesicles. I lead such a fine, fine life! This heat is fabulous. It makes everything I do infinitely more enjoyable.

And I made those fudgesicles. (This sounds more impressive than saying I poured chocolate soymilk into a novelty ice cube ( Read more... )

Oh, my poor, poor hands. I scraped the fuck out of them playing musical chairs at my cousin's birthday party Saturday (it's not uncommon in my family to end up bleeding from children's games 1). Mostly it's the scratch along the length of my left ring finger that's bothering me; it runs over two of the joints and pulls whenever I clench my fists ( ( Read more... )

I guess I'm just a filthy hipster at heart, because I've fully embraced the ironic tee as a staple of my wardrobe ( Read more... )

So I came clean with the doctor about my secret paranoid conviction that this pain in my hands is indicative of early-onset arthritis, and he just shook his head and said, "Oh honey." (Not really.) Then he told me to take some Advil and get over my hypochondriasis. (The "get over it" was implied ( Read more... )