12 Days of Christmas Ornaments

As a fairly new adult, I'm still building up my Christmas decor. I think these ornaments from Crate & Barrel are super cute, $39.95.

Last Day BITCHES!

I don't think it's any coincidence that NaBloPoMo happens to be a short month. The difference between 30 and 31 days is HUGE.

Good Points:
Because I'm not really available to write a lot on the weekends, I had to think some posts through in advance. Which meant that I had to actually put some thought into my writing. Which was really good. Because I am, sort of, aspiring to be a better writer.

I fleshed out and wrote some things that I've been meaning to write for awhile.

I think I got more in touch with the blogging community by being around every day.

Since I wimped out and resorted to posting distractingly awesome pictures of Gabriel on more than one occasion, I got better at remembering to take pictures, and I got caught up on some of my photo editing and uploading.

For some reason, posting every day here has inspired me to post more at Disgraced Shopping, which has been great.

Bad Points:
EVERY DAY?!?!

I happened to go a lot of places this month, and spend some long stretches offline, which made planning and posting....trickier than it should have been.

Seriously. EVERY DAY???

***
As of this moment, I'm thinking that next year it'll be a go.

Thanksgiving Photoset

Pictures from Thanksgiving.

P.S. My aunt et al got Molly's sister, Bridget, from the same litter of puppies.

Christmas List: Flip Video Mino Series Camcorder

Flip Video Mino Series Camcorder, $159 at Amazon. You're seriously missing out on my YouTube video blogging possibilities. This would take me to the TOP.

Black Friday: Somewhat Boring (and expensive!) Personal Wish List

MS Office for Mac (the student/home edition) $134.95

In a perfect world I would also like to have Adobe Photoshop CS4
but the price makes me wince, so I would really be entirely satisfied with Aperture 2.

I really want/need/desire a scanner/photo printer, and this Canon Pixma MP610 Photo All-In-One Inkjet Printer suits all of my needs for $129.99 plus free shipping from Amazon.

I NEED some shelving solutions in my house. I have an unholy amount of books with no homes, cluttering my floor/closet/end table. What I would really like is some wall shelving, but that requires someone to, well, put some shelves up for me. And speaking of, I would really like a handy body to put all my pictures up in such a way that they are straight, and generally hang THINGS for me.

I want a pizza slicer. For serious. You'd be surprised at how often I'm at home thinking how much easier my life would be if I had a pizza slicer. I'm lame. This one is pretty, $9.95

I need/want to get my sewing machine tuned up. It has a couple weird things going on with the tension, and it also just needs its intimate parts shined up. I have this thought in my head that if my sewing machine was working properly, I would ACTUALLY SEW.
Okay I really REALLY REALLY want an SLR Digital Camera. I've been shopping around, and I think that I want this Canon Rebel XS. For one thing, the price keeps dropping in a very appealing way (currently $464 down from $599 when I first looked at it about a month ago). It has all of the things that I want without being overly fancy. I REALLY WANT IT. I've even structured a rewards system for myself to someday maybe splurge on it. More on that if it ever actually happens.
As accessories for my imaginary Camera of Heaven, I would like this lens (which comes with good recommendation for low light), and this bag. I got the ideas for these accessories from Not Martha.

What else?

Oh I want a scale. I got rid of mine when I moved from Chico and it turns out? I miss knowing how much I weigh.

A cordless drill. I lost mine in "the divorce" as it were, and not having it DRIVES ME CRAZY.

I've been dreaming of a Dyson for years. Yes, I am that much of a freak about vacuuming. Floor cleaning is one of the only aspects of housework that I enjoy. Which is why I'm also jonesing for a carpet cleaner.

That's all. I'm boring. And expensive.

Thanks. Given.

I'm thankful for my loving friends and family.

Waking up on Saturday mornings to Gabriel whispering that he loves me.

Long, hot showers on short, cold days.

Improved financial and emotional stability.

My health.

The health of my loved ones.

Laughing children.

Being appreciated at work.

Job security.

Being on the path out of debt, instead of the path deeper in.

Our country taking a new direction.

Hope.

Love.

Good books.

Darjeeling Ltd. Skirt

$96 from Smoking Lily.

It's an annual thing

This year's Thanksgiving Guest List (you can see last year's here):

• My parents
• Laura, Mike, Simon, Elliot (29 year old sister plus husband plus kids, ages 5 and 2)
  
• James (16 year old brother)
• Daniel (11 year old brother)
• Duncan & Kate (24 year old brother plus live-in girlfriend)
• Kate's parents
• Mary & Lucas (my sister's friend and her son, I believe age 7)
• Krishna & family (my adorable coworker, plus her husband Eddie, daughter Jasmin (14), stepson Jayden (7)
  
• Ben (uncle with rage problem, but if he passes out we can use his hot tub)
• Brian (uncle who will spend the whole night awkwardly and painfully trying to make small talk with his father)
• Jonathan (crazy uncle)
• Rebecca, Hector, Elijah, Caleb, Camille (aunt plus live-in boyfriend/common law husband plus their three children, ages 9, 5 and 1 1/2)
• Rosa (Hector's Spanish speaking mother)
• Liz, Julia, Nicole (mom's cousin who has replaced alcohol with Jesus, plus her teenaged daughters, plus, since Nicole goes to UCSC now, possibly her roommate too)
• Michael and Lisa (mom's cousin who has the biggest head I've ever seen, plus his much older and very unattractive barhag wife who likes to talk about real estate. A lot)
• Scott, Orn and Dillon (mom's cousin who is INSANE, plus his mail order Thai bride [not kidding] who is 22 years his junior, and their son (3), who is generally sedated with cough syrup and exposed to very. bad. parenting.)
• David, Kerri, Rachel, Josh (mom's fundamentalist Christian cousin, second wife Kerri, teenage step children Rachel and Josh. My second cousins coming from this family may include: Kristin, Jillian, Jesse, Ryan. If Jillian comes I assume it will be with her new husband. If Kristin comes it will likely be with her boyfriend)
• Grandpa (He'll yell at everyone)
  

Possible attendees include:

• Randy (crazy uncle who has replaced alcohol with Jesus and steels other people's recycling in the middle of the night for a living. His wife rather tragically died of lung cancer earlier this fall)
• Any number of Hector's daughters from first two marriages, plus their children.
  
• Any friends, boyfriends, girlfriends or family that any of the above feel like inviting along

Planning for the weekend

Cherish gave me this lovely award, which I am passing on to Sus, because maybe it'll mean she has her baby today? Being pregnant really starts to get old towards the end there.
Anyhow. I'm still coughing up a lung every time I take a breath, which is....less than awesome. Plus sometimes when I exhale too...hard? Maybe? It's like my regular breathing comes with the sound of a cough. Like a dragon, according to my brother. That was sort of a rambly non-apology for being both (a) boring and (b) lame. But the thoughts in my head just aren't thinking today. I'm going to stop writing about how I have nothing to write about starting....now. No. Now.

Okay.

Starting now.

My Thanksgiving plans, should you choose to care:

Tomorrow night I'm going over to my grandma's (paternal) house to hang out with my cousins Lisa and Jasmine. My original plan was to bring Gabey over as well, but then I realized that his preschool closes early, so my mom has to pick him up, so he'll be in Corralitos, so I'm just going to head over by myself. We just found out that Jasmine is pregnant which is OMG! So exciting! This is her first baby and she's going to be SUCH a good mom. She's about 8 years older than me (I think?) and when I was a little girl I just used to follow her around everywhere and she was always SO nice to me about EVERYTHING and not ever any kind of Go Away Obnoxious Child. Very exciting, and this is the first time I'll see her since I heard the news which means I'll have plenty of opportunity to squeel and whatnot.

Thursday is Thanksgiving at my grandpa's (maternal). Last year I mentioned the guest list. This year add on a few more people. It's hectic, to say the least. However, with the glaring exception of myself, my family is comprised of a bunch of fantastic cooks, so the food is delicious. I don't really even like Thanksgiving food and even I have to admit that the food is delicious.

Friday morning I'm going to breakfast with Miss Ambular, whom I saw the Friday after last Thanksgiving, and who took my most favorite pictures of my lovely son. I'm super excited about that because I adore Amber. She even lets me pretend that I'm a natural redhead, and welcomes me into her gingerish fold.

Saturday night I'm going with a coworker to see The Devil Makes Three at The Catalyst.

Sunday I'm sleeping. Like a serious lot.

I assume hope that somewheres in there K is going to come down to visit Gabriel, but I haven't heard anything about his plans.

Boat Basin Tee

I have a serious love affair with Smoking Lily, where you can pick up this shirt for a handy $32

Another Baby

My parents have been working on building up their dog population. They live in the middle of nowhere and their dogs keep things in check. Ideally, they have two or three. Right now they have one ancient dog and this puppy that my mom found in Chico. Except that was over a year ago so I suppose he's less puppy and more dog these days. His name is Earl, and he's half Corgi, half mystery.

Anyhow.

My parents have been on the lookout for a new dog to call their own, but due to licensing and breeding laws around here, it's surprisingly difficult to find a plain old mutt puppy to call your own.

This Sunday I took my 11-year-old brother to pick out Molly, their new Australian Shepherd. She was born on October 5th, and she's very sweet:



Earl likes her alright:



Elliot is very protective of his doggies:



Daniel hasn't put her down:

Sparrow Salt & Pepper Shakers

$14 from fredflare.com

It makes it just like...running

A fish named JoeBrianJeffJohnBrianBob (Brian is there twice on purpose)

We haven't killed it! Yet. I put it in a prettier house. In the morning Gabriel feeds him. I say something like, "Do you want to feed the Fish?" and then Gabriel replies with something like, "You mean JOE THE FISH?" HE HAS A NAME. So then I call him Joe, OH YOU MEAN BRIAN.

Then the next day I might say something about Brian, OH YOU MEAN JOHN. Sorry. And what's with the utterly boring human names that aren't even people in our lives or anything? I'm perplexed.

Harajuku Lovers Fragrance

Delicious and adorable solid perfumes, great for on-the-go, $60 for the set from Sephora.

brief case

Adorable little zippered bags, $12 from fredflare.com.

Gabriel's New Haircut

Branch Serving Set

Simply lovely. $64.50 from Delight.com.

Technicolor All-Leather Wallet

I saw these in a local shop and was cooing over them at the time. They're fabulously soft and FUN! They're so fun! Online at Delight.com, for $68.50.

I'm not really ready for Christmas but whatever

I slept for ten hours last night, and then my alarm went off, and I couldn't POSSIBLY get up, so I called in sick/late/something, and slept for another TWO HOURS, and now I'm here at work, but very much unwillingly so. My body hurts and I haven't showered and it's an impossibly nice day outside and I HATE being sick on nice days. It makes me feel like God's laughing at me even MORE than usual.

Anyways, I need a Christmas card photo. Last year was the first that I did a photo, and, well, um, it was this:



I was thinking of doing something that was actually at all remotely Christmas and/or Holiday ISH this year, but I don't want to get it done professionally, on account of the moneys that costs. Thoughts? Ideas? Advice?

An extremely unscientific explanation of dealing with Gabriel's hair

I'm stuck in more Excel training today (even as we speak, if'n you must know). My big goal for this session is that it won't end with someone telling me leap in front of a moving bus. Before you know it, I'm going to be the flippin' Excel Grand Wizard. Or something.

I've had a few people ask me what I do with Gabriel's hair. Answers!

You might be wondering, how did this couple:

Make this baby:



Well I DON'T HAVE THAT ANSWER. Believe me, we were the most surprised of all. But this is what I do with Gabey's hair, since y'all (okay ONE PERSON) asked:

He gets a bath most nights, probably 6 nights a week. When he gets out and I'm drying him off and getting him ready for bed, if his head smells like a wet puppy, the next time he takes a bath, I shampoo and condition his hair. If, before we hit the critical point of puppy smell, his hair seems to be getting dry and/or tangly, I'll use conditioner without shampoo. If his hair is long enough to need to be combed (he got a haircut this weekend, pictures to come), then I spray the bejesus out of his head with No More Tangles, and then I comb through it.

Easy Peasy Mac 'n Cheesy.

I don't THINK I'm doing anything wrong, but if I am, feel free to respond and critique.

La la la the end.

Spider-Man Sheets

So I've been thinking that a good way to get Gabriel all jazzed up about his bed and actually sleeping in it would be some fun sheets. Right now he's got supremely boring beige ones. He's absolutely obsessed with Spider-Man, but I've been having a problem finding character bedding that doesn't offend me with its hideousness. These sheets, from Pottery Barn Kids, are actually really cute. Somewhat pricey, but maybe justifiable for Christmas? $14-$109 at PBK. They also have Superman and Star Wars.

Turns out that cropping my garbage out of pictures is harder than you'd expect

Last week Gabriel built himself a super amazingly cool awesome Spider-Man motorcycle. He's been rushing home after school to play with it every day because hey! It's so cool!



Yup. That's a bathroom stool, a hanger, a bike helmet, and some trusty sunglasses. Don't ask me how Spider-Man fits into the picture. I have no answers.



Unfortunately his motorcycle lives next to my bed, which is also where I like to keep my garbage.



I guess one answer could be finding a new place to keep refuse (are /rɪˈfyuz/ and /ˈrɛfyus/ really spelled the same?? I hate you English!), but I rather like to have it next to my bed, where it's handy.

P.S. If you're looking at that last parenthetical and are thinking 'The hell??', those pronunciations are thanks to IPA, which is not India Pale Ale, but is the International Phonetic Alphabet, and also the ONLY THING I LEARNED IN COLLEGE.

NaBloPoMo: CLA EPIC FAIL

I sort of half-heartedly mentioned that on Friday I was going to the CLA Annual Conference and Exposition. I woke up on Friday morning and my throat and lungs felt like I'd been up all night smoking, except that I hadn't. I went to my CLA volunteering thingy, and out to dinner with some SLIS folk, and it was fun! And I was excited! Honest!

Then I drove to San Francisco, and I went out with Julia. Some guy accused us of wearing pretend-glasses so we would look smarter, when actually we both just can't see. I opted to take this as a compliment. As in, Oh you are SO unbespeakably gorgeous, you must be wearing glasses to play that down and draw attention to your BRAIN. I don't think that's how he meant it, but whateva'. Then we went to this really bizarre club that I've so far had a terribly difficult time describing. There was an overabundance of apparently heterosexual men in v-necks, mouthing song lyrics and dancing with....each other. But they....weren't gay? It was weird. Also this guy asked me how old I was and I said 26 and then he...walked away. Like get out of here you bar hag, you're too old for this young, hip, happening scene. And then I FELT like an old bar hag, (maybe it was the blush??) and Julia kept scolding me for opening conversations with cute boys with, "So do I look like a dried up old hag to you??" She says this is NOT a good opener.

I woke up Saturday morning well before I needed to leave for my CLA thingy, but with no voice at all, which wasn't really going to work very well for speaking, and meeting people. I called in sick to my volunteering gig and told myself that if I regained my ability to speak I would head down there. Instead I went to Denny's. And watched the USC/Stanford game. Turns out? This was the same weekend as the USC Weekender, which would explain the general popularity of Julia's tattoo. We tried to go a lot of different places, including a bar where the bartender actually REFUSED to sell me alcohol, because he "didn't have time for me." So. We left. And ended up back in Julia's neighborhood, at this bar where the bouncer stood next to us, stared off into the distance, and listed the cities he has been to, in an endless monotone run-on sentence.
"I went to L.A. in 1993 Philly's pretty bad I've been there but I've been to Pittsburgh and it's worse but I've been to New York once too..." We left.

The alarm went off on Sunday morning and I yelled at it, but we did get up early enough for me to live my life. I was still sick and froggy. But less so.

Gabriel got back from his dad's with a haircut and a fish named Joe.

I went to lunch with Keith! And it was fun! And great! And hang out with me more!

The moral of all of this is that I'm not allowed to go to any more conferences, because I'm obviously really bad at the actual going bit.

Today I'm sick, but I didn't want to call in because I didn't think my work would believe me since I took a long weekend. And I have over 200 unread entries in Google Reader. I'm considering just marking all as read and starting over tomorrow.

Golden roses Renée coat

Expensive and maybe not perfect for everyone, but I am experiencing extreme love of this coat, $425 at J.Crew.

Surprise Party Dress

Also perfect for Sunday brunch. $74.99 at ModCloth

NaBloPoMo: Blushing Pink

I went into Sephora on Friday with the intention of buying blush. I don't normally wear blush, but I also don't normally have cheekbones, so I thought I would step up my game a little bit, y'know? It turns out the longer I sit around not having sex, the prettier I try to be. Did you know that I've started working out again? And now I actually run a comb through my hair before I walk out the door. Because if I'm going to be a frigid, sexless old spinster, dammit I'm going to be a hot one.
Motherfucker.

Besides it's not like I'm part of the anti-blush police or something; it's just that I don't know what I'm doing with it and I don't want to end up looking like an 80-year-old stripper. My mom doesn't wear makeup, so I was lacking some critical beauty guidance growing up, which makes me overly self-conscious when I try something new. When I make the plunge, I try to do it whilst being bossed by an expert.

I've always had pretty good luck with Sephora employees helping me be less ugly look more glamorous. When oral surgery left me with two black eyes last summer it was Sephora-Boy who guided me to the proper products and techniques to make them disappear (check out this photo! I secretly have black eyes! You cannot tell!!). When I came to the conclusion that not having any eyebrows at all probably wasn't working in my favor, it was Sephora-Chick who helped me find something that was easy to do and not freaky-looking.

I was pretty sure that if I walked into the store, found an employee, and said ExcusemeI'mlookingforblushandIdon'tknowwhatI'mdoingbecauseIdon'twearblushCanyouhelp? that someone would willing do so.

Wrong.

The first two people I asked ignored me completely. Really. Completely. The third one had questions.
If you don't normally wear blush, why do you want it now?
I don't know.
What kind do you want?
I don't know.
Well what is it for?
I don't know.
Then why do you want it?
I DON'T KNOW.

I ended up finally getting help by saying that I was a bridesmaid and had to wear blush in the wedding, but was looking for something subtle that I could keep using afterwords if I wanted to. Do not ask me why this lie popped into my head because I hadn't been thinking about it before hand. It worked though. She lit right up like a spark and embarked on a mission. A blush finding plus tutorial mission. But for future reference Sephora-Hive, I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO LIE ABOUT MY SOCIAL LIFE TO WEAR MAKEUP. Just sayin'.

Because my face is sort of like Red Delicious Apple in both shape and color, we she ended up doing a bronzer instead, since, really, I don't need to be any pinker than I already am.

And now I have blush.

Aha.

Enchantment Coat

Perfect for an evening stroll. $99.99 at ModCloth.

Chocolate Fraises Teacup

Hot chocolate just got even more delicious. $24.99 at ModCloth.

NaBloPoMo: I'm a bitch

Want to feel like a kinder, more giving, less judgmental person? Just start comparing yourself to me!

Here's what I did on Thursday:

First, I went to lunch with a coworker. At lunch, there was a little boy that I know from the park.

"I don't care for that child. I don't like looking at him. I don't like the way his head is shaped like an upside-down isosceles triangle, and I don't like the way his old parents have turned him into such a socially inept dork. I don't like him at all."

"Jenny, I think he's four."

"I don't discriminate based on age. He's still worthy of my hate."

Then, we drove from lunch back to work, and these three guys were in the crosswalk in front of me. Me, looking at one of them directly in the eye, with my window down.

"You are so ugly."

(He was, and not in a feel-sorry-for-his-hideousness genetic way, but in a too-much-meth-has-left-him-toothless way)

Then he was looking at me and I'm pretty sure he called me a bitch. I don't know for positive because he was muttering, but he did break a beer bottle on the sidewalk, and it was 1 o'clock in the afternoon.

"I don't understand why he's calling me a bitch. I didn't run him over, I let him cross the street, WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU ASSHOLE?"

"Jennifer, you just looked him dead in the eyes and told him he was ugly. That MIGHT be a factor."

"Oh. Yeah. That. Well he IS."

"I didn't say he wasn't ugly, I just said that he had grounds to call you a bitch. I'm also saying that he can totally kick your ass. Drive."

Senzai Floral Hoodie Sweatshirt

$88 from Lucky Brand Jeans.

Navid O'Nadia Bella Brown Leather T Strap Mary Jane Heel

$57 from LuLu's.

Ever the hooker

On Sunday I went ice skating. I decided to spice things up by winning the show-as-much-cleavage-as-possible-whilst-freezing contest. Woot.

NaBloPoMo: Remindered

I lived with Paris for four years when I was living in Santa Barbara. We were randomly assigned freshman-year roommates, and we...liked each other. Or something.

Anyways, she just emailed me because she wanted to know our addresses while we were in SB/IV/on campus. I clicked reply, and wrote back with every single one. OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD. More proof that my problem is not keeping thoughts in my brain. My problem is keeping USEFUL thoughts in my brain. I can't remember to send in my rent check, but I remember the name of the boy in kindergarten who taught me how to tie my shoes.

There is a point to this story.

It's coming.

Okay here it is:

Paris reminded me of two things.

1. UCSB had CSOs, which were basically dorky guys with bikes who you called when you were wasted and your friends wouldn't let you walk home by yourself. Cuz they didn't want you to get "raped" or "assaulted" or whatever. Okay so it was probably definitely a good idea. Whatever it still sucked at the time. Anyways. You called, and they rode their dandy bicycles to where you were and walked you to your home. I never utilized this service myself, but I vividly remember forcing a livid Paris to use it. It was not so much that I was legitimately concerned for her safety. I was torturing her. Wait, I'll do it some more: Paris, wasn't Ballerina Scot a CSO?

2. The last name of this guy we both (but mainly Paris) used to work with: Tanner. I'm not big on putting first and last names here, because of "privacy" or whatever, but Dave Tanner, where are you? Does anyone know? I would like to know what you're doing with your life, but your name is too common, and thus much too difficult to Google, and I'm not sifting through the 500 choices on Facebook. Dave, should you Google yourself and end up here, I'd like to know what's become of you, okay?

NaBloPoMo: Not the best time to announce that I hate Charles Shulz

I had Veteran's Day off. I went to lunch with my mom/sister/youngest brother/nephews, and then went up to my mom's house, where I tried and failed to post something. My two irritating brothers were sitting behind me reading everything I wrote, and yeah. That makes me slightly self-conscious.

I think I'm wearing a maternity shirt. I'm not sure, because it's not labeled as such, but the front hem is noticeably longer than the back. I'm hoping that I do not look pregnant.

What else? Oh! Ice Skating! Turns out? Ice skating is totally fun! And vigorous exercise. How 'bout that? Vigorous exercise that is fun. It was especially nice because my hangover wanted me to eat french fries, and this made the food orgy a lot less guilt-ridden.

We went to the skating rink at The Redwood Empire Ice Arena, also known as "Snoopy's Home Ice," and a part of the Charles Shulz Museum. Despite my 8th grade participation in You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown, I've sort of always hated the Peanuts Comic Strip, along with everything that might possibly go with it. I hate it even MORE now that it's just reprints of "Peanuts Classic." It even sucks the joy out of my life more than The Family Circus, I can't really explain why. But! As a testament to ice skating magic, I still had fun, even as pictures of Snoopy were assaulting my brain.

My camera sort of died for the cause with the Double Chin/Cleavage photo shoot, so I only have a couple of sucktastic pictures from Sunday. Monica's cousin took some really cute ones, which I have every intention of stealing at the next available opportunity.

NaBloPoMo: I have to post today but my brothers are annoying

And looking over my shoulder at my mom's house. So. Tomorrow?

In the mean time:

NaBloPoMo: My sister's a lot more fun than I am

I went out with my sister on Saturday. Actually. I made plans to go out with Mira on Saturday, and then I sat on my sister with my knees on her arms and dripped prickly pear mucus into her mouth until she agreed to meet me. And she did.

My sister is neurotic, which makes her just medium fun on a day-to-day basis. When she goes out, which isn't really all that often, the alcohol releases some kind of Charisma Juice into her brain, and before you know it she's casting lesbian bikers in her latest choreographed dance.

On Saturday she decided that what we all needed, absolutely-for-sure, was a series of photos which she called "Double Chin Plus Cleavage for Maximum Skin Folds." I've put together a photo set of the whole evening, which also includes some pictures of us looking like the bar hags that we apparently are. Enjoy yourself:


I feel like it's also worth mentioning that we ate garbage pizza.

BlogHer '09 is going to be Chicago, and I've never been to Chicago, so for now I'll maintain my optimism and say:

NaBloPoMo: I excel at embarrassing my friends

This is Monica:


Today is Monica's birthday. For serious. My first awareness of Monica's existence came to me in the Spring of 2003, at Paris' birthday party. She was the girl that my roommate Daphne would be living with the following year. I have this really amazing picture from that night* where I'm on my bed with all of my roommates and a couple of friends, apparently on the phone and holding a bottle of vodka. This is my first picture of Monica. It's worth noting that, if my memory serves me correctly, this also might have been the night that Julie convinced us all that chasing shots of vodka with shots of rum would be completely legitimate. Or maybe that was a different party.


Anyways. Monononica, my lovely petal, was a part of my it-would-make-you-puke-how-cute-we-were-all-together close group of college friends. Which really just means that she's one of the girls whose boobies I've squeezed, who has had me spill red wine on her couch, who has had me describe plastic surgery on a disturbingly detailed level, and who has accompanied me on many a late-night, ill-advised adventure.


For years, every time I hung out with Monica, she ended up in a state of medical emergency, often culminating in a trip to the ER. She hates it when I tease her about this, and insists that she's much healthier now. As evidence, the last two times we hung out she didn't think she was having a heart attack. So there's something. Or maybe I've just lost my edge.
Monica is the talented photographer who captured this moment of ADORABLE NOMNOM SQUEE from when Gabriel was about 7 months old, and I just felt like including it:


I love this girl so much, I'm driving two hours today to go to her ice skating extravaganza birthday party. Me, one of the most singularly uncoordinated humans on the planet. If that's not devotion, I don't know what is.


I love you baby. Happy birthday!

*Note to self: invest in scanner.