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I Got A Pony When I Turned 10


Thursday, August 29, 2002

Tomorrow I venture to the beach with 5 of my best college friends. Agenda items for the week include: taking up smoking again (Camel Lights), drinking Amstel Lights and plenty of water, sunbathing with sunscreen, body surfing the Atlantic, discussing the benefits of Cute Will Hunting testing his resolve as Secret Agent Man, painting our fingers and toes, and untold games of gin rummy and "I Never." Truly, it is not an annual event for the faint of heart.

Wednesday, August 28, 2002

There is so much good word at the Onion this week, that I can hardly contain my enthusiasm.

This story, however, will continue to hold a special place in my heart for weeks to come, as it is the story of my "I just finished my diet coke -- how many miles til the next exit?" life.

Tuesday, August 27, 2002

Peaches do not travel well.

Wednesday, August 21, 2002

Sometimes I feel sorry for people who aren't stuck in traffic as much as I am. I mean, when else do you get to sing so loud and free?

Wednesday, August 14, 2002

I haven't talked to Greg, one of my best pals in the whole wide world, in a month or two. Since my last tear-strewn trauma, serious bodily injury, or life-altering crisis anyway. So today I was so very very thrilled to open my beloved Hotmail and find a message from one Greg Melville. All he writes is:

"If I could write like any one person, I'd write like Danielle Steele."

There are few friends out there, who likely live far, far away, who choose to let you know what's going on in their lives without really telling you. And you understand it just fine.

Friday, August 09, 2002

Last night I told my roomate:

"My new black Helen Janes are my favorite shoes in the world.

They're comfortable and they're cute."

And then I paused, and couldn't remember

What they were really called.

Wednesday, August 07, 2002

Someone just left a Wall Street Journal -- with the mailing address still attached -- hanging on the rail of the wheel-chair accessible stall in the 3rd-floor bathroom. Like I'd pick it up and read it or something.

That's just a little too personal for me.

The bags around my eyes this morning tell me that entirely too much television was watched last night. I was first shocked and appalled to discover that my friends -- who are supposed to be my friends -- have disuaded me from watching Dude, Where's My Car?.

"Dude, where's my car?"
"Where's your car dude?"

And all of the falling down. Come on people, that's funny. This delight was immediately followed by American Idols, which Allyson was shocked and appalled to discover that I had never seen. It was good, but I was a little upset that no one told Justin Guarini that he was smarmy in a lecherous-uncle sort of way (not a cool-tom-jones sort of way) and that he should stop shaking his head during performances for christ's sake. Because that can be distracting.

Monday, August 05, 2002

There is pretty much nothing more fun than a Saturday night with my friends who once again proved that a good game of Celebrities is like Grace Kelly -- a classic. A classic with excessive hand gestures and much consternation.

Friday, August 02, 2002



Thursday, August 01, 2002

Last weekend, in belated honor of Allyson's 25th birthday, we saw the super great band Poprocks, who Allyson confirmed were "pretty cute, close up." And she should know. She and Jess went up on stage. Amidst the plethora of joy and singing and dancing, there are a few things that I was not sad to leave in Russian Hill.

I hope I never hear another:
Gaggle of 5 bachelorettes parties singing "Pour Some Sugar On Me." I mean, in the name of love.

I hope I never see another:
Joey in a blue wool sweater grope and grind from behind every girl in the first three rows. Who dances in a sweater anyway?

I hope I never taste another:
Strand of hair from the swinging head of aforementioned bachelorettes.

Well what the hell else are you supposed to do in Vegas?

I mean, really.

What's so wrong here?


The Past

The Present
Where hilarity ensues

She got married

So much conflict

Mrs. Kennedy
What exactly is the fuss?

Dangerous Candy
Don't mix with coke

Worshipping at the Altar of Mediocrity
That's one pretty kitty

The Beakdip
A commuter's log

The Lauren Tewes Fan Page
She's expecting you

The Future
This American Life
SF Gate

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