Pretty placement

Whoa, whoa, whoa I'm loving this Polaroid from here.

Indicative lyrics

I've been loving Au Revoir Simone for some time now, especially this little tune.

Sad Song
Play me a sad song
'Cause that’s what I want to hear
I want you to make me cry
I want to remember the places that we left
Lost to the mists of time

I know that you’ll go soon
You’ll find out so take me with you always
I know that you’ll go soon
You’ll find out so take me with you always

On buses that move through the night
We sleep on and on
We got off at Memphis
Black-top heat will make us thirsty
We’ll never get sick anymore

I know that you’ll go soon
You’ll find out so take me with you always
I know that you’ll go soon
You’ll find out so take me with you always

Play me a sad song
'Cause that’s what I want to hear
I want you to make me cry
I want to remember the places that we left
Lost to the mists of time

New bright and light.

I'm seriously wanting new colors in my bedroom. I need something a little brighter and lighter. Maybe something like this from OM Home.

Goodbye, mapquest.

We had some good times. Remember that trip to Fountain Inn with my BFF Toni, when you gave me not one, not two, but three different ways to get there? I thought that was mighty nice of you (a girl likes her choices, right?). Well, little did I know it was all a ruse and a 2 1/2-hour trip would turn into a 6-hour one. Gracias! Wasn't. Happy. At. All. But I forgave you . . . eventually. And now I have some sad news, for you, anyway. No longer will I have to type www.mapquest.com into my Web browser, click on "Directions," punch in an address that, inevitably, you won't recognize (get it together, will you?) and print out about six pages, four of which are usually completely useless.

I've moved on (I'm sorry, mq!) And up, for that matter. Just got my first GPS (shout out, Pops!) I didn't ask for it. I never "ask" for anything, really. Here's how it all went down: ole' Pops didn't want to do anything on Father's Day. Instead, he wanted to have dinner at Miyabi's the next Wednesday. So of course I agreed to go. About halfway through the meal, I grabbed the server and gave him my credit card to pay for dinner (it was the right thing to do.) Well, Dad was mad. No, wait. Correction. He was pissed. Didn't really understand why (and I still don't). So as we're leaving, he said, "You really shouldn't have done that." I said, "Dad. It's your Father's Day present. It's all good." He replied with, "Well, I'm going to get you a GPS." I'm thinking, "WTH?! Where did that come from?" but actually said, "Um, dinner isn't really comparable to a GPS, Pops. Not dinner at Miyabi's, anyway." He didn't say a word. He just tapped his feet, propped his right wrist up on his waist and shook his head. Oh, Dad.

Naturally, I didn't think the man was serious. I've never said anything about a GPS to him (or anyone, I don't think.) Sure, I always wanted one and have admired my friend's Garmin for quite some time now. But I always assumed I'd be the last person on earth to get one (this is usually the case with me and any new technology.)

Unexpectedly after lunch today, Pops stopped by my office to give me one. How freakin' sweet is that? I must say, I got a little misty.

So I raise my tomtom to you, mapquest, and say, "It was nice knowin' ya'! Peace out! Now get your act together, please."

Snot and goats

I'm so stinking tired of writing about this stuff (stuff I just can't disclose here because you know, so many people read my blog.) So, I took a break and ran across this CPI between me and my co-worker. I laughed so hard that a little bit of snot shot to the tip of my nostril. Gross.

her: yeah. i don't want to do 99.9% of WOM stories. they blow goats.
me: that they do, boo.
me: that they do.
me: man, if these convos were ever found by higher-ups . . .

Oh, it's on . . .

Why am I so intrigued by Alexa Chung? Twice this week, I've rushed home for lunch to watch It's On with Alexa Chung on MTV. WTH?

Close Proximity IMs

When I started my job, I was insanely stoked that I had my own office. I had my very own huge desk, matching cradenza, little conference table with two chairs (holla'!), four-drawer file cabinet, massive bookshelf and the winner: my very own bathroom. I had moved on up, for sure . . . until about four months later when my boss hired another writer and put her in a corner of my office. Instant downer . . . at first. Turns out I like her a whole, whole bunch. She's quick as a whip and has the driest sense of humor, which is refreshing. We instantly became work allies. (I'll spare everyone the work hoopla deets. Let's just say there's a lot going on here that's gotten everyone's nerves jacked up into high gear). And because our office is so close to our boss' (and her protege's) and we don't want them to hear anything we say, we've become quite accostumed to IMing back and forth . . . even though there's only about three feet between our desks. No joke.

While our Close Proximity IMs are usually work-related (making it totally legit, right?), they've gotten more and more out of control in the last few months because many (OK, most) aren't work-related anymore. We've gotten downright lazy about opening our mouths and talking. Today's CPIs even paid homage to Michael Jackson (R.I.P. King of Pop). As my officemate waited patiently for a superior to send her his resume, here's what she IMed:

her: Do you remember the time...when you said you'd give me your resume?
me: you must do it.

I'm pretty sure we're not the only ones who do this . . . right? RIGHT?!

Remember.

I remember when my cousin brought this album home. We danced to it for hours and hours, jumping on the bed, flailing around like maniacs. Loved it. Today's a sad day.

Pac Money Necklace

This necklace is super cool. In fact, everything from Melody Ehsani is super cool.

I've been writing down ideas for my new digs. So, so SOOOOO excited! I hope B gets accepted (crosses fingers)!!!!

I. Cannot. Freaking. Wait.

I am a dork, but I don't care. I can't wait for this . . .

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