Have you heard about this? That Princeton ladies need to “find husbands” on campus or…else…something terrible happens to them? I realize everyone is talking about this article, but I wanted to hear what y’all think about it. This isn’t really about Princeton, per se– my oldest friend in the whole world went there and is a perfectly nice, humble, sweet person who doesn’t think she’s better than you (although she’s really great and probably is). What it is about is why on earth women in this day and age are advising each other to define themselves with wherever their husbands spent time ages 18-22.
What do you think? Obviously, the waters of the dating pond are pretty choppy, but um…is it that bad? Am I delusional or something? What do you think?
Before I say anything else, I feel I should tell you I am not engaged, but my friend is! His new fiancee and I share the same name, and he enlisted me to help him plan and execute the proposal he’d been dreaming of. He probably picked me to help him because we have the same name. They’re a little shy, so I’m not including photos of them, but after the jump, check out some of the photos!
I’ve got a full weekend, y’all. Heading to Evansville to pick up my grandmother’s classic Camaro, hosting a HUGE Motherlodge event (come! for free!), cheering on my sister’s alma mater in the NCAA tournament, helping to host a massive Good Friday seafood feast, dyeing 10 dozen eggs, going to I think five to ten brunches, and working in several very long and hard workouts before it’s all said and done. What are you up to? Tell me!
Sorry if half-eaten food is kind of gross to you, but you need to see this.
Picked up the 21st Amendment Hell or High Watermelon Wheat beer on a visit to Mission Chinese this weekend and I am here to tell you this is the feel-good hit of the summer. I am growing pretty weary of this endless-winter-snow-flurries-seeing-your-breath-at-noon nonsense, so I decided to ignore the weather and get a fruity summer beer. This definitely worked (it’s warm now), sort of like pretending to ignore boys so they’ll notice you was a very effective strategy in middle school.
Crisp, dry, and very light on the melon– this drinks like a dream and has a pretty low ABV (4.9%), so you can have more than one. I personally loathe getting a fruit beer that tastes more like Hawaiian Punch (and no disrespect to HP, but there’s a time and a place for everything), so I was pretty delighted to try this.
Also, it kept my mouth from igniting during lunch, so that was also a plus.
I looked around on the internet for where you can pick it up, but came up short, so I guess for now you can buy it on eBay by the can. Do you know where to get this? Are you into it? Into fruit beer generally? Tell me.
So, wedding season is upon me, and as much as I love and adore my clients (I! REALLY! DO!), man, I get tired of weddings every weekend for several months on end. It’d be so fun to break it up a little with some of these fetes. Contact me for my Starter Baby Shower rates.
This movie, more than anything else, defined my teenage years.
True confession: I was a teenage hipster dirtbag.
To be fair, I grew up into an adult hipster dirtbag, so I guess this is at least representative. My friends and I found this DVD at the bottom of the Wal-Mart $5 bin and were like, “hey, I’ve heard of the Talking Heads, I wonder what this is.”
And oh, what wonders were contained within. You’ve got John Goodman singing karaoke, you’ve got a lot of broken fourth wall, you’ve got a half-joke about how weird and wonderful Texas is, and a lot of bizarre filler, all set to an amazing soundtrack.
The look is pretty 80s, but the liberal use of colors and weird shapes can be easily updated– check it out after the jump.
Check out these amazing photographs of tourists from the 80s and early 90s. I definitely spotted some stuff that I owned circa then. I’m not sure why I find this whole thing so touching, but it’s definitely worth a quick look midday.
And that, my friends, is a truth. Richard Simmons is a force of nature, and I barely survived to tell you this: that class is hard. Really. Hard. Also, Richard Simmons is in on the joke about the spandex. Also, Richard Simmons has held my ponytail, and no, that is not a euphemism.
My friend Lauren and I went sort of as a joke, and it definitely started that way. Brother just walked in and kissed everyone and sparkled and was generally buff in our direction. Then the music started.
AND OH GOOD GOD DO I WANT RICHARD’S APPROVAL. He is NOT handing it out, either. He ran us around that exquisite hardwood floor for 90 minutes, telling people to move their asses. FASTER. HIGHER. HARDER. On a water break, Lauren and I decided all we had to do was not be the absolute worst, which we achieved. I think.
Anyway, at the end, we were all tasked to “gather some steam and chase our dreams” which sounds corny but I was so into it. Then Richard informed us that the only acceptable place for a Kit-Kat was up our asses and let us go home.