total. blonde. moment.

jake: (kindly inquiring about my hard drive RE my request for his assistance to fix it) how big is your hard drive?

me: hhmmm, id say roughly the size of my hand.

jake: ....

a little retail therapy goes a loooooong way.

rather than try our luck under sunday's drizzly grey skies, allie and i opted for the warm, dry fluorescent lighting of pentagon city. apparently so did the rest of the DC-metro area. the mall was crawling with rain-phobic shoppers looking to give the economy a much needed boost.

the shopping gods eventually took pity on me after a few failed attempts, and rewarded me with a LONG awaited pair of black flats, flip flops (new commuter shoes), and two token 'fun items' to say fuckall to the budget and treat myself: neon blue shirt thats screams 'i may not feel fabulous but i sure as hell look fabulous' and a classic black top that while on sale was still slightly over my im-a-poor-grad-student budget, but well within my dammit-i-deserve-this budget. a decent haul for a sunday afternoon well spent.

awkward on so many levels

i spent what would have been a routinely boring bus ride home from work this afternoon half trying to avoid listening to a conversation between the bus driver and one of the passengers, half completely enthralled. kind of like a train wreck, you cant NOT look.

the conversation started out innocent enough, stranger offering the driver some of her chicken fingers, and a variety of sauces. you know, the norm. then they somehow got onto the topic of Plan B. there would be periodic lulls in the conversation lasting a few minutes, interrupted by the woman's insistent praise of the miracle pill. naturally, the conversation took a turn to some of their more, uh, private behavior. i learned the driver has 3 kids (by the same woman), is 'very sexually active' and apparently has never heard of any form of birth control. meanwhile, to propagate her legacy as a walking spokeswoman, the women proudly announced she always keeps a personal stash of plan b at home. just in case.

oh sex ed, how youve failed us.

sometimes songs speak to you

as you

for you

time to brush up on my accent and pool together my pocket change because i am weekend-ready and boston-bound! the weekend festivities begins with sticky floors, questionable smells and rounds of cheap vodka drinks (god bless college town bars) at the only bar i call home, cstone. moving right along, we'll attempt to sop up some of the alcohol with some happy hour eats, most likely followed by MORE cheap drinks. cue drunken shambles.

then its up at 4 in the morning to catch a 6:30am flight to boston while the hangover wears off. 2 days of college roommate throw-back adventuring ensues. assume massive quantities of food and sweets to be consumed.

after just about all the fun i can handle, its time for an early morning wake up for yet another ass crack of dawn flight monday morning. with dark circles around my eyes and luggage in hand, i drag myself back to work for yet another grueling work week.

bring it on, weekend.

never before have i drowned myself in gravy and all things fried quite like this.

a weekend visit to westminster maryland is never complete without a little rest, a little relaxation, and a LOT of eating. a visit to baughers old country style diner and ice cream parlor was the highlight of the trip after a solid week of anticipation. and it sure didnt disappoint. after an appetizer of homemade doughy, buttery rolls, we dove into hot roast reef sandwiches drenched in gravy complete with extra crispy fries ALSO dripping with gravy. followed by homemade fried chicken. and apple fritters. and corn fritters. the table sagged under the weight of our piling plates, but the food just kept on coming. when in rome....eat fried chicken?! for the piece de resistance, we pushed off thoughts of bloated stomachs and set ourselves to the task of ordering dessert. known for their heavenly ice cream, that was obviously happening. but HOMEMADE pies?? yes and PRETTY please. we somehow ended up convincing ourselves a mississippi mud pie AND a slice of blueberry pie were in order. on top of individual sundaes. while our pants buttons may have been straining, every single creamy delicious homemade bite was worth it.

go big or go home right? or at least go home a little bigger...

thanks to a tip from a friend, checked out no one knows about persian cats this weekend

definitely recommend, with a pretty good soundtrack