Don’t be fooled. The Krakens are evil.
Picture of the day
I took this during Pride, but forgot to post it, which is a shame because she’s fabulous.
And, for additional randomness:
So the worst part is that the first version of this billboard featured a heavily made-up woman.
This blog needs a redesign. I have more unfinished laundry than a women’s penitentiary. My bike, rollerblades, and gym shoes feel neglected.
I am one check-in from becoming mayor of McDonald’s. (My love handles don’t lie.) My progress on my album is underwhelming. And, and and.
I finally bought a steamer and cleaned my rugs before moving them down to my new apartment. And oh my god, look at that filth!
The steamer has gotten a lot of use. My new apartment is carpeted, and my dog trainer told me that I have to re-potty train them because dogs don’t generalize well…so being house-broken in one apartment does not mean they are 100% house-broken in another apartment.
This makes the moving process…delightful.
Most of my furniture is in the new apartment but I still have clothes and hundreds of books to move downstairs. I’m slightly worried about leaving the dogs out with books because Harley has a taste for literature. We’ll see if Harley has grown out of his book-eating phase tomorrow.
We are still working on this whole “playing with tennis balls and not eating them” thing.
Just when I thought I hid the dog bones from them…
Last night Alesus, Eric (of TCS fame), and I went to W. Night at the Townhouse.
W. Night means dollar beverages, lesbians with short hair, pretty black girls, hip hop, and hot messitude.
Oh, and midgets:
Their lives are so hard. Sigh.
My optometrists are at the Mall of America Lenscrafters. I love them. They are competent and the assistants are hilarious. But the downside of going to the mall for contacts is passing this place:
I hung out with Jorde tonight. I keep a set of Miami-transplant friends in Minneapolis because they remind me that I am not, in fact, crazy. Call us snotty, but we don’t wear tennis shoes with dress pants, or eat at nightclubs.
The adjustment to Minneapolis was easier for me than it was for my Miami friends up here, mostly because I spent 12 years in Wichita. Although I do occasionally rock some Calle Ocho/Lincoln road tacky, like bright pink shirts.
And yes, there’s a blurry blackberry picture of that:
It is raining. I am walking the dogs. So of course I have both leashes in one hand, my blackberry in the other, and a golf umbrella balanced between my cheek and my shoulder.
That’s when I run into my new neighbor, McDreamy, who has some sort of husky mix.
Between the phone, the leashes and the umbrella, I am awkwardly juggling too many things and trying my best not to drop anything. McDreamy wants the dogs to meet but I avoid eye contact because I need to focus on keeping Gertrude from lunging at the husky. She lurches forward and yelps. I almost drop the umbrella.
I look awkward. My dog looks vicious. It’s a giant swagger fail…and I blame her:
Tyler and I met at Wilde Roast yesterday after work. Tyler and I must be chatty-cathys because I look down at my watch and it’s somehow two hours later and I am 20 minutes late for picking up Roby at the Mall of America… woops.
I excuse myself, zip across town to the Mall, and beg Roby to forgive me for being on Miami time. Roby forgives me after a few bribes and we drive back to the city for $1 beverage night at Lush Bar.
Wednesday nights start at Lush because it has a video bar and the place is slow enough to have a conversation without screaming. So Roby and I stood and gossiped, watched Toni Braxton’s new botox video, and I had the pleasure of introducing Roby to Brett, one of my favorite people.
Roby and I then skipped over to the Townhouse bar in St. Paul.
Townhouse is a lesbian/drag bar right across from a Wal-Mart that also hosts a $1 beverage night on Wednesdays. I love going to the Townhouse on Wednesdays because the people watching …is amazing. Behold:
Roby wore plaid, and with so many lesbians in the crowd, of course he had a twin!
And, like every week, there was a tragic hot mess that we need to discuss, but the pictures are after the jump because she is NOT WORK APPROPRIATE. Let’s see…
Exams are over. I’m a 3L, and thrilled.
The past few days were full of long hours at the library, late nights at the office, post-finals celebrations, dog walks, rollerblading, dancing, cackling, and even a date.
