April 30, 2011

A Call to Anguish.

April 28, 2011


It's almost Friday, which means the royal wedding will soon be over, which means I can finally stop pouting. In fact, I'm getting downright cheery because a reliable source has assured me that London's weather will be horrendous. Take that, Kate, for stealing my child(adult)hood dream.

A quick recap:

I'm having a party. Won't you come?

(Thank you, Amy.)

Just back from LA, where the highlights include my spinning debut (DJ Absurd in the house) and a full-frontal pat down administered by a very large, very "urban" LAX security official. Full review (with pictures!) to come.

(Which one of these doesn't belong?)

Loaded up on moving equipment (also just discovered that it's not spelled "equiptment"). Anxious for the parents' reaction to a truckload of Huggies and Seagram's boxes. It's been a very, very productive year and a half.

And finally, will he or won't he? C'mon, Mitch. Stop playing with our hearts.

April 26, 2011

Hollywood's Not America.

(Please read this post with LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem" playing in your head.)

Back from a long weekend in LA visiting this girl. Yes, she's gorgeous. And yes, she's fun. And yes, I feel lucky to be friends with her. Ashley is currently living the glamorous life out west, and I got to pretend to be a part of it all for a few days. I didn't see any celebrities, but I did get to bask in the SOCal sunshine and forget about everything on my growing to-do list for a few days.

I was blessed to spend Easter dinner with a generous family in Orange County, I visited an old high school friend and his new life, ate good food, and drove up and down PCH 1.

My ideal trip includes a passport and a foreign language, but this little jaunt was an excellent reminder that there are plenty of places to explore here at home. Useful, with a grad school budget and student loans right around the corner. Thanks for the good time, Cali. I'll be back.

Friday, 6:30 pm: Virgin, your landings may scare the tar out of me, but you put on a good show.

The stars and stripes above the snow-covered mountains. Does it get much more patriotic?

Saturday, 9:00 am: Wake up and head out for a run around Beverly Hills. Spandex on Rodeo Drive - how bold am I?

Saturday, 12:00 pm: Visit the beach at Santa Monica. Take a short nap in the grass and may or may not have been pick pocketed - woke up and only found $2, but I doubt I started the day with much more.

Saturday, 1:30 pm: Tacos for lunch from a small stand in Santa Monica. Thankful the anticipated indigestion never comes.

Saturday, 6:30 pm: Dinner and drinks during sunset at a beachside bar in La Jolla with a high school friend and his fabulous girlfriend who I get to meet. They are living the dream, and I hate saying good-bye.

Saturday, 11:00 pm: Our boys @thetylervaughn and @rjwoww take the stage with DJ Adjust at the OC's classiest club. Whispering "Adjust" at the door ensures we get VIP status, and the elephant makes its debut.

Sunday, 1:30 am: I debut my alter-ego, DJ Absurd. I'm famous for playing songs that I think are new but are really a few years old. Ooops. (In your head, please switch from LMFAO to Lil Wayne's "Right Above It.") Also, a big thank you to the pride of the Carolina Panthers, #53, who lent me his bed for the evening. We didn't meet then and probably never will, but your Tempurpedic and I enjoyed our evening together.

Sunday, 9:00 am: Join thousands for an Easter service in Orange County. Francis Chan's enthusiasm about the Gospel is infectious, and I can't thank the Holiday family enough for taking me in for Easter dinner. Fret you not, Mrs. Holiday, I will be back.

Monday, 9:30 am: Hike up the famous Runyon Canyon. Nearly die. Vow to exercise more. Make it to the top. In a moment of clarity, vow to maintain current exercise schedule, but stay away from mountains.

Monday, 11:00 am: Visit a few of my favorite stars. Caught a few snapshots of the greats.

And the greatest, Nic Cage.

Monday, 11:30 am: More Beverly Hills, brunch and a cupcake before heading home.

When you ask people to take pictures of you and they turn out like this, I always wonder if they're annoyed or just a little incompetent. Regardless, thank you for snapping it, sir.

April 19, 2011

Surf + Turf.

Weekend at the lake.

Rest = check
Eat = check
Read = eh...not so much
Sunburn = most definitely

It was a celebration.

I celebrated waking up to this.

But we also celebrated this.

With these.

And this (we celebrated so much, in fact, that we couldn't be bothered to spell correctly).

We feasted.

We relaxed.

We marveled.

And just because I can't think of anything that says summer more than a bikini drying on a door knob.

April 15, 2011


There are some things you say you'll never do, and you don't (own/like a cat, "movie" kiss another girl, root for the Patriots, pre-set a country station into your car radio). And then there are some things you say you'll never do, but you do (date a democrat, cut bangs, move back to Indiana, wear an article of clothing with Miley Cyrus's name on the label). There are also things you say you'll do, and you do (study abroad, go to a U2 concert, run (trot) 13.1 miles, learn to bake). And there are things you say you'll do, but you never get around to doing (become fluent in Spanish, read the entire Bible, go to happy hour at that little place a block away from the apartment, learn to cook).

Thinking about this a little lately as I prep to leave D. I hate reverting to the cliche "bucket list," but is there any other way to make sure I get around to some of the uniquely Texas and/or Dallas things I've been putting off for almost two years?

Heading to the lake tonight for a weekend of R&R with my lady friends. On the agenda: eating, reading "Water for Elephants" for BOTH myself and Amy so that I can tell her if they mess up the movie, and maybe wake boarding. If I can find the courage to throw on a bikini.

Speaking of courage, a million hugs to Carrie today. She's a favorite, one of my most, and while I always love her, I especially love her on days like today when she is the only self-confidence I possess. I'm thankful for the 64 electronic mails we exchange each day, as well as the 10,826 texts that cross the airwaves from Indy to D. Sorry bouts all those radioactive waves that are gonna eventually kill everyone. Girlz gotz 2 talk.

Another shout out to Louise (pronounced Loo-eez) for the MK flats. Your guilt is my gain. And y'all know I love anything that combines three metallics into one beautiful piece of bling. Well, two. One for each foot. Regardless, I feel like a king, and you can, too, whilst you oogle them(also note the Miley Cyrus black jeans and rest assured that I am embarrassed for myself).

P.S. Am I allowed to say that I'm over this royal wedding business? Oh, but I am.

April 13, 2011

Aurora Borealis.

I saw the Northern Lights once, on a late-night drive from Canada back to our lake house in Michigan. Watch this video, taken when an Air France flier found himself with a whole row to himself on a San Francisco-Charles De Gaulle flight. He set up his camera and a tripod and shot a time-lapse of the entire flight out the window. As the place passed over the Arctic, he caught the Aurora Borealis. Promise it's worth your time.

April 7, 2011

I will not marry an American.

It's just a fact.

Let's look at the great loves of my life:







But who is my absolute favorite, you might ask? Who do I love the very, very most?

You might be thinking of the very English Darcy.

But no, not Darcy, despite his ability to make my heart physically hurt every time I watch P&P.

Federer, you think. Surely it must be the great Swiss tennis champ.

Also a fine guess. And I just might actually love him. But still not my absolute favorite.

My heart belongs to this guy.

See that coming?


No, not this kind:

(Although I have impeccable form.) This kind:

It's a well-known obsession of mine. I love them. Not the long, "thought-out" ponytail, more of the "afterthought" ponytail. The kind that's not necessary, just a convenience. Question my sanity away, friends. Analyze it as much as you'd like. I can't explain it. It is what it is.

My favorite ponytailed man? My long-haired baby brother.

And the ladies love him.