Fluuuuu

I've been in bed for 3 days now, rendered useless. I came down with this sneaky sneaky flu. It started out as an innocent sore throat. "Oh no," I though, "I don't want to get a cold now." No, no, by three o'clock on Thursday I was passed out in my bed. By Friday I couldn't even sit upright to the eat the fajitas Papa brought home for me. Four days later I still can't do much more than stream movies onto my computer and make hot chocolate. And let me tell you my face isn't enjoying this either. My eyes are puffy, my lips are all pale, and my hair is beyond greasy. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. I also had a boatload of work to catch up on and I don't think I'll be doing that anytime soon.

PS. The cutest pictures I have right now..considering my condition..are of my sister. Awwww.

I spent my saturday night out with the besties, celebrating Kendall's 18th, little black dress style. The evening began with a glamorous tapas dinner at Medjool on Misson. I strongly urge you to at least check out the website for this restaurant; what a hip place.

Bang Bang

I'm not terribly fashion conscious. But I think in certain ways, I pull it off. First off, I'm sweater-obsessed. If I'm not wearing at least one, maybe two sweaters...then it's probably not me.

This morning, I woke up, and before even having my first cup of coffee, I got down to business and ordered this bag online. I couldn't help myself; I live for Orla Kiely...and thanks to our ever-failing economy, they are all on sale. sale. sale. I just can't wait...3 to 5 business days!



Oh, and the shoes are another of my most recent new obsesssions. I went through my house and hunted for coins, took them to a coinstar, and off to the shoestore to buy those babies up! The cashier even gave me a 10% discount!

I kind of look like these gals.

Listening to this very Stereolabby record makes me feel all coolsie. Like I should be sitting in a Fitzroy bar wearing lots of eyeliner and making sassy conversation with young socialist types.

Harold & Maude

Tomorrow the Castro Theater celebares the 38th Anniversary of Harold & Maude with a 7pm showing. If you wanna be there, be there. Bring your best daisies.

My Uncontrollable Fear of Breakfast

Every morning I wake up terrified at the prospect of what is to come. You might think this is hilarious but I tell you it’s not. Just the thought of it makes me wish for plastic bed-sheets.
There are hundreds of things that could go wrong at breakfast, which could kill me. I could choke on my bagel or I could get electrocuted by the toaster or I could burn my mouth on a Pop Tart or I could slice an artery when buttering my muffin or I could go into anaphylactic shock from a pecan Danish or I could get a pip from the jam in my eye or I could slip on some rogue marmalade on the floor or I could get salmonella from a bad egg or I could have a heart coronary from the bacon fat or I could fall asleep when cooking the sausages and burn the house down (again) or any one of the dozens of different nightmare scenarios which render me useless every morning.
The upside is that it can be controlled. Much like avoiding stepladders or stepping over pavement cracks, there are loopholes that can save my life. If I don’t eat until, say, ten a.m. I’ll live. I don’t have a fear of brunch; that would be just stupid.

For the past month or so I have become a deep sleeping machine. I am an insomniac with a sudden unprecedented bounty of somnolence. I love sleep, I lovelove sleep. I don't know how or why, or even for how long but while I can sleep I am in love with sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep.

Conversely I am much more in love with being awake. Nothing else is as rewarding as one night after another night of awesome sleep, thick and gooey uninterrupted sleep. Not a spartan diet of dairy free whole foods, not abstinence from coffee or alcohol, not miles and miles of fearsome running, not adequate hydration, not hugs, money or kisses. None of these thing compare to the fountain of awesomeness that it is to be asleep.

Acid Test

This just in.
Word on the street says Gus Van Sant and Dustin Lance Black (dynamic Milk duo) will be directing Tom Wolfe's The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. The film will be produced by Fox Searchlight sometime in 2009. Boy, am I excited.

Sophie, the new Mountain Girl