First of all, here is the brief version I could have written many many posts ago:
I flew from Adelaide to Auckland to San Francisco, where I met SuperTiff and Fog City Mommy. Tiff and I stayed with FCM for two days while we did some sightseeing. We checked into our hotel for BlogHer08, which was freaking awesome. We were very brave and met many amazing people. Adrienne drove us to Fullerton, where we stayed with Tiff's BFF Jobi, and went to Downtown Disney. Tiff went home, and I went to Costa Mesa to get my hair done by Whoorl's stylist. I got a train to Palm Springs to hang out with Holly, and then I drove to Vegas. Then I flew to Michigan to hang out with Tiff some more, and held a party for the bloggers in the area. Then I flew to Phoenix, then San Francisco, then Auckland, then Adelaide. And then I slept for a hundred years. In my own bed.
And now, was all of that a good idea? (This format totally stolen and vandalised from Katelin. For the well-written and original version, go here.)
Good decision: To come to SF for BlogHer.
Good decision: To come a couple of days early.
Bad decision: To not be a millionaire so I can guarantee I'll be able to attend every year.
Good decision: To plan to be brave and say hi to everyone I read.
Bad decision: Accidentally missing some people. Getting distracted by $4 margaritas and forgetting about others.
Good decision: To ride in one of the GM cars from SF to LA.
Also good decision: To leave Monday, giving us extra time in SF.
Good decision: Bringing business cards.
Bad decision: To not have anything to say when presenting them apart from "Hi, I'm Missy from Australia!"
New decision: The cards will be prettier next time.
Good decision: Not bringing my red suitcase (wayy too heavy).
Bad decision: Letting the strap break on my duffel.
Good decision: Allowing Holly to force me to buy a wheely one.
Bad decision: Tempting fate with new luggage meaning the New Luggage Gods and US Airways could team up to destroy my new bag.
Bad decision: Bringing four pairs of shoes when I only ended up wearing two of them.
Good decision: Dumping one of the extra pairs on Holly.
Bad decision: Leaving my favouritest jacket there as well, by mistake.
A decision: To resist the Twitter Is Taking Over The World vibe.
Good decision: The world does not need to be burdened with all the crap I would post. I can do that to my friends, not to the whole internet.
Bad decision: A lot of things happened when it was inconvenient to whip out a blog post. Twitter would have been good as a record of this trip.
Good decision: To visit FCM, LA, Whoorl, Holly, Vegas, and Tiff.
Bad decision: To not meet up with Jennster in Vegas.
Bad decision: Booking non-refundable, non-changeable flights before plans were set.
Good decision: Changing plans anyway.
Good decision: Road-tripping it to Vegas.
New decision: I allocated time unevenly. Will plan better next time.
Is it just me, or does decision not even look like a real word any more?
Showing posts with label BlogHer and Beyond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BlogHer and Beyond. Show all posts
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Friday, August 08, 2008
Michigan Blogger Party: Ice-cream and RockBand Award
Argh! So many things happened that I'm still trying to get written down!
Tiff and I decided to host a party for any Michigan bloggers who could make it. After couch-buying-related hijinks that afternoon, we headed off in a total rush to buy the necessities - chips and dip, Ben&Jerry's, strawberry mix, and vodka.
We made it home before any guests arrived, set out all the snacky-food things we'd promised people, and commenced stressing.
All that stressing was totally unwarranted, I have to say. We had an awesome time, and I hope our guests did too.
Highlights included:
~ Meeting everyone. Duh.
~ Perfecting our strawberry slushie drinks.
~ Deciding what to do with Andrea's hair.
~ Me and Andrea (ok, mostly me) cursing out Elizabeth (or the car I thought was Elizabeth's) for ditching us. You have to admit, that would've been pretty genius if she'd done it that way.
~ Finding the Smiley Fries from BlogHer at the shops that afternoon, cooking them in Tiff's brand-new kitchen, and eating them at 2am.
~ Playing RockBand til three in the morning.
~ Did I mention I got to hang out with all these awesome people (plus a few more)? AWESOME, I TELL YOU.
(That picture totally stolen from Elizabeth, because we are just so damn hot. Also, go read her post; it is much more coherent than mine.)
(I had to finish with that one, because it took us about twenty bajillion tries to get an even remotely sensible shot. It was late. Really late.)
In conclusion: You guys need to do that more often, even if you don't invite me. I won't be offended. (I will be pissed I can't gate-crash, but that's different.) You guys were so much fun - any success of the party was totally caused by you. Thank you so much!
Tiff and I decided to host a party for any Michigan bloggers who could make it. After couch-buying-related hijinks that afternoon, we headed off in a total rush to buy the necessities - chips and dip, Ben&Jerry's, strawberry mix, and vodka.
We made it home before any guests arrived, set out all the snacky-food things we'd promised people, and commenced stressing.
All that stressing was totally unwarranted, I have to say. We had an awesome time, and I hope our guests did too.
Highlights included:
~ Meeting everyone. Duh.
~ Perfecting our strawberry slushie drinks.
~ Deciding what to do with Andrea's hair.
~ Me and Andrea (ok, mostly me) cursing out Elizabeth (or the car I thought was Elizabeth's) for ditching us. You have to admit, that would've been pretty genius if she'd done it that way.
~ Finding the Smiley Fries from BlogHer at the shops that afternoon, cooking them in Tiff's brand-new kitchen, and eating them at 2am.
~ Playing RockBand til three in the morning.
~ Did I mention I got to hang out with all these awesome people (plus a few more)? AWESOME, I TELL YOU.
(That picture totally stolen from Elizabeth, because we are just so damn hot. Also, go read her post; it is much more coherent than mine.)
(I had to finish with that one, because it took us about twenty bajillion tries to get an even remotely sensible shot. It was late. Really late.)
In conclusion: You guys need to do that more often, even if you don't invite me. I won't be offended. (I will be pissed I can't gate-crash, but that's different.) You guys were so much fun - any success of the party was totally caused by you. Thank you so much!
When You're Travelling Alone, You Can't Blame Other People
At the buffet:
Exhibit A: One.
Exhibit B: Not one.
Greediness!
Exhibit A: One.
Exhibit B: Not one.
Greediness!
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Welcome Home
After flying for 9,908,547,592,380,390,853,290 hours, I finally made it to Adelaide Airport. I went through duty free, where a bottle of alcohol cost me as much as it would have normally cost in the US.
I caught the slowest taxi EVER home (like, the reason you go Tapley's Hill instead of Marion Road is that it's 80 instead of 60 there. This is negated by the fact that you did 60 along there anyway) and worried that I wouldn't remember directions to my house. When I did get inside, my house had changed. Did they paint the walls? Was the hall always this wide? And oh my god, my walls are so bare.
After being in other people's gorgeous houses for three weeks, dude, my room is SO BORING. Maybe it was with this in mind that I stole four posters from the video shop when we went there last night, even though I haven't seen any of the movies featured. I don't think movie posters is the answer, but I am doing something with this wall:
Help me! Ideas!
Shelle and Jollan came over to help me celebrate. We made a birthday cake which, hmm, I would not eat the bottom of it if I were you - let's just say cranking up the heat to reduce cooking time might not be as effective as it sounds. But the rest of it was absolutely delicious and I love you guys for humouring my need for birthday cake.
Also, the chip packet told us to do this:
Today, I am trying to sort out categories in my Bloglines, which is essentially a pain in my arse, but when it is done the organisation-loving part of my heart will be so happy. I am uploading all my pics to Flickr, and tagging them all carefully is making up for all the current Bloglines chaos.
I am also making my way through this ...
... and I should have thought of a couple of things before I started. Namely:
1. There is never going to be enough room on the line for all those clothes.
1a. Also, what, is there a world peg shortage going on?
2. It is winter.
2a. Which means it is constantly raining and cold.
2b. Even though I don't care if my clothes get rained on, I still need to be able to hang them out so I can say I DID MY LAUNDRY.
Which all amounts to
3. How the hell do you think you are going to get all these clothes dry, ever?
I am also ignoring the fact that I am expected to be at uni tomorrow, ready to learn things, and the fact that I am, oh, a bajillion months behind on writing my thesis. "Work on it at BlogHer" my arse. But I still feel like it's my birthday - because I am insane like that, and because I had a bajillion Facebook messages to the tune of, "Facebook totally makes it easy for us to wish you Happy Birthday, even though we never would have remembered and don't know how old you are and really are not that concerned over any of this, but still, have a great day" - so I am happy.
And also because I got like the greatest birthday present ever this morning. (Equal greatest. I got this from Tiffany - like, the person, not the jewellry place - before I left. Pretty, right?) Here is Holly, in all her drivers licence glory that she denied the internet.
I love you guys!
I caught the slowest taxi EVER home (like, the reason you go Tapley's Hill instead of Marion Road is that it's 80 instead of 60 there. This is negated by the fact that you did 60 along there anyway) and worried that I wouldn't remember directions to my house. When I did get inside, my house had changed. Did they paint the walls? Was the hall always this wide? And oh my god, my walls are so bare.
After being in other people's gorgeous houses for three weeks, dude, my room is SO BORING. Maybe it was with this in mind that I stole four posters from the video shop when we went there last night, even though I haven't seen any of the movies featured. I don't think movie posters is the answer, but I am doing something with this wall:
Help me! Ideas!
Shelle and Jollan came over to help me celebrate. We made a birthday cake which, hmm, I would not eat the bottom of it if I were you - let's just say cranking up the heat to reduce cooking time might not be as effective as it sounds. But the rest of it was absolutely delicious and I love you guys for humouring my need for birthday cake.
Also, the chip packet told us to do this:
Today, I am trying to sort out categories in my Bloglines, which is essentially a pain in my arse, but when it is done the organisation-loving part of my heart will be so happy. I am uploading all my pics to Flickr, and tagging them all carefully is making up for all the current Bloglines chaos.
I am also making my way through this ...
... and I should have thought of a couple of things before I started. Namely:
1. There is never going to be enough room on the line for all those clothes.
1a. Also, what, is there a world peg shortage going on?
2. It is winter.
2a. Which means it is constantly raining and cold.
2b. Even though I don't care if my clothes get rained on, I still need to be able to hang them out so I can say I DID MY LAUNDRY.
Which all amounts to
3. How the hell do you think you are going to get all these clothes dry, ever?
I am also ignoring the fact that I am expected to be at uni tomorrow, ready to learn things, and the fact that I am, oh, a bajillion months behind on writing my thesis. "Work on it at BlogHer" my arse. But I still feel like it's my birthday - because I am insane like that, and because I had a bajillion Facebook messages to the tune of, "Facebook totally makes it easy for us to wish you Happy Birthday, even though we never would have remembered and don't know how old you are and really are not that concerned over any of this, but still, have a great day" - so I am happy.
And also because I got like the greatest birthday present ever this morning. (Equal greatest. I got this from Tiffany - like, the person, not the jewellry place - before I left. Pretty, right?) Here is Holly, in all her drivers licence glory that she denied the internet.
I love you guys!
Monday, August 04, 2008
Friday, August 01, 2008
Not To My Hair, You Don't
I have tried to keep my new haircut in it’s Tera-given pristine condition. I have failed.
I went on one of the water rides at the Circus Circus theme park, and yes, shocker, got wet. Specifically, got my hair wet. Bugger.
Now technically, and with the benefit of hindsight, it would have been fine until I got to Michigan. It was only a little splash, and only I would know that Tera’s handiwork had been defaced. But I wanted to do something all about me – because the rest of this trip totally hasn’t been – so I went in search of a hair salon.
The one in my hotel was undergoing renovations, so that was out. I decided on the closest hotel to mine, because it’s a wash and a blow dry, how bad could it be?
Pretty damn bad.
After wandering around the Riviera, and down many long and increasingly narrow corridors, I finally found the “beauty” “salon.” I walked in, and was greeted by a woman having her nails done. I said Hi back and scanned the price list to see if they even offered what I was after. They did. Then the woman was all, “Can I help you?” and I was all, “Wash and blow dry?” and she was all, “Now?” and I was all, “Yes, please,” and she was all, “THANK GOD.” And then I was all, “What the fuck?” and also a little, “Hmm, crap.”
So the one woman washed my hair – none too gently – while the other one watched from the counter.
Washer: I’m going to put some conditioner in it, ok?
Me: [Duh, doesn’t everybody?] Yep, that’s fine.
Washer: You usually use conditioner?
Me: [Duh, doesn’t everybody?] Yep.
Washer: Ok, I’ll put some in. *Puts conditioner in.* That will be an extra ten dollars, of course.
Me: [WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?!] Um, okay.
Watcher: *Says something I can’t hear, my head being under water, and also me being still slightly stunned.*
Washer: She says you need a pedicure, too.
Now, I am the first to admit the job I did on my nails before BlogHer was pretty sub-par, and walking up and down the Strip for two days in the dust and the dirt wasn’t helping matters, but seriously?
I laughed it off, told them I wasn’t need of one right at that second (Them: “Maybe tomorrow”), and got transferred to the Watcher who would straighten my hair.
First off, she pulled out a brush that looked like she bought it from Kmart. In the kids’ section. With the pink glitter hair clips and the neon shoelaces or whatever. And brushed out all my tangles (and there were a lot). Again, seriously? Now I’m not saying you can’t ever put a brush to wet hair, but straight up, no product, no drying at all, and you’re going to drag a brush though my hair?
Then she put some product in, clipped my hair up, and stuck me under one of those drying things. Guys, come on, you’re not even trying here. When Tera did my hair, she did all the blow-drying AND she’s pregnant AND it was uphill in the snow both ways. Don’t be so lazy.
Once she decided I was cooked enough, she bought me back to the chair, pointed the hair dryer at my hair, and waved it around a little. I think we all learned on Grad Night (well, you guys didn’t, cos The Ranch wasn’t around then, but the hairdresser at Rydges totally did) that you can’t do that with my hair. You need to be very specific with it, and do bits at a time. When she got sick of the waving around, she pulled out a chunk from the bottom and started blow-drying it straight using her Kmart brush (not even a round Kmart brush, either). She stopped and made it a smaller chunk, and when she decided that still wasn’t working, she pulled out a straightener.
This one came with a My Little Pony set, I think. It was pink, and plastic, and while I have no problem with either of these things in theory, I feel they have little place in a professional hair salon.
And then she applied the straightener to my dripping wet hair. Which sizzled.
It was about this time that I “remembered” I had to meet my friends for lunch or cocktails or something, anything, and I left. I paid for the wash, neglecting to leave a tip, because I’m Australian and we don’t do that here.
Or possibly because I thought they sucked.
I went on one of the water rides at the Circus Circus theme park, and yes, shocker, got wet. Specifically, got my hair wet. Bugger.
Now technically, and with the benefit of hindsight, it would have been fine until I got to Michigan. It was only a little splash, and only I would know that Tera’s handiwork had been defaced. But I wanted to do something all about me – because the rest of this trip totally hasn’t been – so I went in search of a hair salon.
The one in my hotel was undergoing renovations, so that was out. I decided on the closest hotel to mine, because it’s a wash and a blow dry, how bad could it be?
Pretty damn bad.
After wandering around the Riviera, and down many long and increasingly narrow corridors, I finally found the “beauty” “salon.” I walked in, and was greeted by a woman having her nails done. I said Hi back and scanned the price list to see if they even offered what I was after. They did. Then the woman was all, “Can I help you?” and I was all, “Wash and blow dry?” and she was all, “Now?” and I was all, “Yes, please,” and she was all, “THANK GOD.” And then I was all, “What the fuck?” and also a little, “Hmm, crap.”
So the one woman washed my hair – none too gently – while the other one watched from the counter.
Washer: I’m going to put some conditioner in it, ok?
Me: [Duh, doesn’t everybody?] Yep, that’s fine.
Washer: You usually use conditioner?
Me: [Duh, doesn’t everybody?] Yep.
Washer: Ok, I’ll put some in. *Puts conditioner in.* That will be an extra ten dollars, of course.
Me: [WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?!] Um, okay.
Watcher: *Says something I can’t hear, my head being under water, and also me being still slightly stunned.*
Washer: She says you need a pedicure, too.
Now, I am the first to admit the job I did on my nails before BlogHer was pretty sub-par, and walking up and down the Strip for two days in the dust and the dirt wasn’t helping matters, but seriously?
I laughed it off, told them I wasn’t need of one right at that second (Them: “Maybe tomorrow”), and got transferred to the Watcher who would straighten my hair.
First off, she pulled out a brush that looked like she bought it from Kmart. In the kids’ section. With the pink glitter hair clips and the neon shoelaces or whatever. And brushed out all my tangles (and there were a lot). Again, seriously? Now I’m not saying you can’t ever put a brush to wet hair, but straight up, no product, no drying at all, and you’re going to drag a brush though my hair?
Then she put some product in, clipped my hair up, and stuck me under one of those drying things. Guys, come on, you’re not even trying here. When Tera did my hair, she did all the blow-drying AND she’s pregnant AND it was uphill in the snow both ways. Don’t be so lazy.
Once she decided I was cooked enough, she bought me back to the chair, pointed the hair dryer at my hair, and waved it around a little. I think we all learned on Grad Night (well, you guys didn’t, cos The Ranch wasn’t around then, but the hairdresser at Rydges totally did) that you can’t do that with my hair. You need to be very specific with it, and do bits at a time. When she got sick of the waving around, she pulled out a chunk from the bottom and started blow-drying it straight using her Kmart brush (not even a round Kmart brush, either). She stopped and made it a smaller chunk, and when she decided that still wasn’t working, she pulled out a straightener.
This one came with a My Little Pony set, I think. It was pink, and plastic, and while I have no problem with either of these things in theory, I feel they have little place in a professional hair salon.
And then she applied the straightener to my dripping wet hair. Which sizzled.
It was about this time that I “remembered” I had to meet my friends for lunch or cocktails or something, anything, and I left. I paid for the wash, neglecting to leave a tip, because I’m Australian and we don’t do that here.
Or possibly because I thought they sucked.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Michigan Bloggers Party Reminder
Calling all imaginary internet people located in the Michigan area!
If you haven't got your invite yet, email me meanwhilemissy AT gmail DOT com, and I'll send you the details.
If you haven't got your invite yet, email me meanwhilemissy AT gmail DOT com, and I'll send you the details.
See you all on Friday!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Dear US Airways
Dear US Airways,
This is not a Complaint letter. Your people were all lovely to me, even if they did pull that whole "Welcome to Chicago" thing when we were in fact (I think) landing in Detroit. This is more of a What The Fuck? letter.
First of all, you're making everyone remove their shoes straight off the bat now? Like, what exactly do you think I'm concealing in my Havaianas, huh? And then there's the whole liquid thing (which I really should have thought about, since Amalah totally gave me a lesson the value of Sephora sample sizes, but I didn't, being more concerned with my own hydration than your airline codes). You won't let me take through an unopened bottle of water, and you escort me out - like, physically escort me, and won't let me have my bottle of water back until I'm passed the security checkpoint - but I'm allowed to take on a spray can of sunscreen. The hell?
And then there's the slot machines at the airport. Which I think is pretty cool and Vegasish and whatnot, actually. Plus, it was considerate of you to put them there as the designated waiting area had many less chairs than was required. But given that you had to be playing the pokies to sit at one of the chairs there, I would have to say that that was the most expensive seat I've ever sat in.
And finally, on the plane. You turned the lights off before we'd even started taxiing, which, whatever, it's the red-eye, people want to sleep (and yes I was that person who had their reading light on when everyone else was trying to nap). But then, you demand that people pull down their window shades RIGHT THE FUCK NOW because it will be bright when we land in Detroit. I have to tell you, if I were in a window seat, I would have staged a protest right then and there. Surely Vegas is one of the prettiest and most exciting cities to fly over at night, and you deprived us of that thrilling experience. Also, you scared the shit out of me - not be able to see where the metal tube was going freaked me out enough to grow a little sympathy for those who usually have issues with this whole flying thing. Luckily, the people in the row behind and across from me were smarter and kinder than you and kept their windows open. I got a total neck spasm but at least I wasn't hyperventilating.
Love,
Missy (who really could be in Chicago right now, she wouldn't have a fucking clue).
This is not a Complaint letter. Your people were all lovely to me, even if they did pull that whole "Welcome to Chicago" thing when we were in fact (I think) landing in Detroit. This is more of a What The Fuck? letter.
First of all, you're making everyone remove their shoes straight off the bat now? Like, what exactly do you think I'm concealing in my Havaianas, huh? And then there's the whole liquid thing (which I really should have thought about, since Amalah totally gave me a lesson the value of Sephora sample sizes, but I didn't, being more concerned with my own hydration than your airline codes). You won't let me take through an unopened bottle of water, and you escort me out - like, physically escort me, and won't let me have my bottle of water back until I'm passed the security checkpoint - but I'm allowed to take on a spray can of sunscreen. The hell?
And then there's the slot machines at the airport. Which I think is pretty cool and Vegasish and whatnot, actually. Plus, it was considerate of you to put them there as the designated waiting area had many less chairs than was required. But given that you had to be playing the pokies to sit at one of the chairs there, I would have to say that that was the most expensive seat I've ever sat in.
And finally, on the plane. You turned the lights off before we'd even started taxiing, which, whatever, it's the red-eye, people want to sleep (and yes I was that person who had their reading light on when everyone else was trying to nap). But then, you demand that people pull down their window shades RIGHT THE FUCK NOW because it will be bright when we land in Detroit. I have to tell you, if I were in a window seat, I would have staged a protest right then and there. Surely Vegas is one of the prettiest and most exciting cities to fly over at night, and you deprived us of that thrilling experience. Also, you scared the shit out of me - not be able to see where the metal tube was going freaked me out enough to grow a little sympathy for those who usually have issues with this whole flying thing. Luckily, the people in the row behind and across from me were smarter and kinder than you and kept their windows open. I got a total neck spasm but at least I wasn't hyperventilating.
Love,
Missy (who really could be in Chicago right now, she wouldn't have a fucking clue).
Monday, July 28, 2008
What Happens In Vegas ...
... may well stay in Vegas, or at least not end up here, given the number of things I forgot to write about in yesterday's post.
Like, did I mention I am in Vegas now?
Also not mentioned:
~ Dear MM: I'm moving in with Holly. Hope that's cool. Love, Missy.
I feel very ripped off that we got less than a day together. That was just mean. Like, 'see how awesome Holly is and how much fun you could have? Well you can't, sucks to be you, ha ha on you both.' I just feel like there were so many questions we could have asked and so many stories we didn't tell. NEXT YEAR.
~ Holly was awesome about helping me find and get to a rental car. Thanks, babe.
Why did I need a rental car? Oh, because I drove to Vegas. By myself. In a car that had the steering wheel on the wrong side, on roads where I had to drive on the wrong side.
I did not crash into anyone, not even in mega traffic on the Strip. And I even parked, right next to another car. It was excellent to be able to follow Holly around for a bit, like car-driving training wheels. After that I was fine. Mostly.
I repeatedly tried to rest my right arm on the door, and I could not find the stupid button to open the petrol tank. Turns out there is no little button, you can just open the little door. Stupid car.
And I did I mention I did all this AFTER MY GPS STOPPED WORKING? Luckily, it's fairly hard to miss the big huge signs that say "LAS VEGAS IS OVER HERE, SUCKAS! COME AND SPEND YOUR MONEY!" so I was fine.
~ I am by myself again.
Unfortunately, Jennster and I managed to not meet up, because I am lazy. An American from the Hall is going to be here tomorrow, so we may get a drink. But basically, I'm on my own.
This may seem sucky, to be in Vegas by yourself, but I don't think so. For one, I am not being all anti-social and psychotic like I was in The Fucking OC. Last night I wandered around my hotel, had dinner, and yelled at you all for posting so much when I was so tired. This morning I returned my rental car (more driving! by myself! in America!) which I was kind of sad to do. The whole road-trip thing is very fun and all empowering and shit, y'know? Then I got a cab to the Bellagio (why there? I don't know) and starting walking along the Strip, stopping at anything that seemed cool.
I have a bajillion photos of that, and there will be a proper Vegas post at some point, maybe, you never know, so I won't go into all that. Point is: everyone in Vegas is a tourist, I can wander and take photos and be all "ooh!" and it doesn't matter, and I am not being a fucking chicken any more. Yay!
Update: Ok, I am being a chicken still. I went down to the pool, got confused by all the chairs and the towels and is this seat taken and fuck it's hot, ok I'm leaving. But! I'm going back in an hour, with my own towel, when it will be a little bit cooler. Then I'm going for another wander down the Strip. The adventuress (TM Jory) returns.
Like, did I mention I am in Vegas now?
Also not mentioned:
~ Dear MM: I'm moving in with Holly. Hope that's cool. Love, Missy.
I feel very ripped off that we got less than a day together. That was just mean. Like, 'see how awesome Holly is and how much fun you could have? Well you can't, sucks to be you, ha ha on you both.' I just feel like there were so many questions we could have asked and so many stories we didn't tell. NEXT YEAR.
~ Holly was awesome about helping me find and get to a rental car. Thanks, babe.
Why did I need a rental car? Oh, because I drove to Vegas. By myself. In a car that had the steering wheel on the wrong side, on roads where I had to drive on the wrong side.
I did not crash into anyone, not even in mega traffic on the Strip. And I even parked, right next to another car. It was excellent to be able to follow Holly around for a bit, like car-driving training wheels. After that I was fine. Mostly.
I repeatedly tried to rest my right arm on the door, and I could not find the stupid button to open the petrol tank. Turns out there is no little button, you can just open the little door. Stupid car.
And I did I mention I did all this AFTER MY GPS STOPPED WORKING? Luckily, it's fairly hard to miss the big huge signs that say "LAS VEGAS IS OVER HERE, SUCKAS! COME AND SPEND YOUR MONEY!" so I was fine.
~ I am by myself again.
Unfortunately, Jennster and I managed to not meet up, because I am lazy. An American from the Hall is going to be here tomorrow, so we may get a drink. But basically, I'm on my own.
This may seem sucky, to be in Vegas by yourself, but I don't think so. For one, I am not being all anti-social and psychotic like I was in The Fucking OC. Last night I wandered around my hotel, had dinner, and yelled at you all for posting so much when I was so tired. This morning I returned my rental car (more driving! by myself! in America!) which I was kind of sad to do. The whole road-trip thing is very fun and all empowering and shit, y'know? Then I got a cab to the Bellagio (why there? I don't know) and starting walking along the Strip, stopping at anything that seemed cool.
I have a bajillion photos of that, and there will be a proper Vegas post at some point, maybe, you never know, so I won't go into all that. Point is: everyone in Vegas is a tourist, I can wander and take photos and be all "ooh!" and it doesn't matter, and I am not being a fucking chicken any more. Yay!
Update: Ok, I am being a chicken still. I went down to the pool, got confused by all the chairs and the towels and is this seat taken and fuck it's hot, ok I'm leaving. But! I'm going back in an hour, with my own towel, when it will be a little bit cooler. Then I'm going for another wander down the Strip. The adventuress (TM Jory) returns.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
The Let's Take This Show On The Road Award: Holly (and Freaking MM)
Holly and I have been reading each other for, say, ever. For about as long as I've been blogging.
In that time, she got engaged, and married, and invited me to come visit her. Oh yes, those are the most important things that have happened to her, ever.
She was kind enough to pick me up at the Train Station In The Middle Of The Fucking Desert, and after talking on our phones from like five meters away to establish that we were us, she gave me the hugest hug in the world, which was totally what I needed.
Then she took me to Outback Steakhouse, because Holly = Outback. For reals.
And we had these awesome drinks, which were, again, totally what I needed. (Remember this theme, I'm going to blow your mind when it all comes together later.)
The chick at Outback was very awesome to us, so you should all go there and say hi.
Then we went drunk book shopping, which caused MM to freak out somewhat and threaten to send someone to arrest us. Which, hello? We're still waiting!
We decided to skip a movie and head home to form our RockBand. We freaking rocked the house! I got 101 notes in a row! And I got ninety-something percent! (Where ninety-something probably equals 90.000000001, but WHATEVER. We rock!)
Before Holly would let me play the Wii, she DRAGGED me to Walmart and FORCED me to buy luggage. The strap on my duffle bag had broken on the way from Santa Ana to Palm Springs (and what track did I leave from in LA? 11. Out of 12. Almost the longest I could possibly have to walk with a broken bag) and Holly got all up in Mom Mode and was like, "You need a new bag!" And I was all, "It's fiiiiine." Seriously I was at my totally sookiest for Holly, the poor thing. I refused to pack my Nike shoes because they take up the most room. I gave her kids all the packets of Tim Tams I had left (sorry, Tiff's mum!) and forced all kinds of stationary equipment on her, all, "I AM NOT CARRYING IT ANY FURTHER!" And then I left my favouritest jacket there, by accident, and now she can be all, "YOU DIDN'T WANT TO CARRY IT, AND NOW IT'S MINE, HAHAHA."
But, okay, ready Holly?
Yes, the wheely thing is the bestest invention in the whole world. Yes, my life was incomplete without it. Yes, you are the smartest person in the whole world ever. I bow down to your total awesomeness. IT WAS JUST WHAT I NEEDED.
And then The Girl (who was the first one up) was looking at the stats of today's play on the Wii, and was all, "How did you guys play three hours today?" Question is, how did she even get any sleep between midnight and 3am, with us ROCKING THE FUCKING HOUSE?
In that time, she got engaged, and married, and invited me to come visit her. Oh yes, those are the most important things that have happened to her, ever.
She was kind enough to pick me up at the Train Station In The Middle Of The Fucking Desert, and after talking on our phones from like five meters away to establish that we were us, she gave me the hugest hug in the world, which was totally what I needed.
Then she took me to Outback Steakhouse, because Holly = Outback. For reals.
And we had these awesome drinks, which were, again, totally what I needed. (Remember this theme, I'm going to blow your mind when it all comes together later.)
The chick at Outback was very awesome to us, so you should all go there and say hi.
Then we went drunk book shopping, which caused MM to freak out somewhat and threaten to send someone to arrest us. Which, hello? We're still waiting!
We decided to skip a movie and head home to form our RockBand. We freaking rocked the house! I got 101 notes in a row! And I got ninety-something percent! (Where ninety-something probably equals 90.000000001, but WHATEVER. We rock!)
Before Holly would let me play the Wii, she DRAGGED me to Walmart and FORCED me to buy luggage. The strap on my duffle bag had broken on the way from Santa Ana to Palm Springs (and what track did I leave from in LA? 11. Out of 12. Almost the longest I could possibly have to walk with a broken bag) and Holly got all up in Mom Mode and was like, "You need a new bag!" And I was all, "It's fiiiiine." Seriously I was at my totally sookiest for Holly, the poor thing. I refused to pack my Nike shoes because they take up the most room. I gave her kids all the packets of Tim Tams I had left (sorry, Tiff's mum!) and forced all kinds of stationary equipment on her, all, "I AM NOT CARRYING IT ANY FURTHER!" And then I left my favouritest jacket there, by accident, and now she can be all, "YOU DIDN'T WANT TO CARRY IT, AND NOW IT'S MINE, HAHAHA."
But, okay, ready Holly?
Yes, the wheely thing is the bestest invention in the whole world. Yes, my life was incomplete without it. Yes, you are the smartest person in the whole world ever. I bow down to your total awesomeness. IT WAS JUST WHAT I NEEDED.
And then The Girl (who was the first one up) was looking at the stats of today's play on the Wii, and was all, "How did you guys play three hours today?" Question is, how did she even get any sleep between midnight and 3am, with us ROCKING THE FUCKING HOUSE?
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
My First Brush With Fame Award: Bossy
On Thursday night, we went from the Newbie Party (just what it sounds like) to the People's Party (also just what it sounds like).
At the People's Party, I spent a lot of time going "Oh my god, I think that's [awesome blogger]!!!"
The very first one I could not leave without seeing was Bossy. She freaking hugged SuperTiff, and there was no way I was leaving without an intro and maybe fainting at her feet or something.
I did get the intro, and had a short chat (it was very loud in there - you drunk bitches need to learn to keep it down when Bossy and I are having a moment) and I got the impression she got the impression I was batshit insane. Whatever. I can live with that. I met Bossy!
Friday night at Ruby Skye, Tiff was all, "There's Bossy!" And I was all, "Whatever, dude, that was soooo Thursday." Not that I didn't still love Bossy, but everyone has a very short attention span at BlogHer. You have to - there's a thousand people to squeal at or demand hugs from or leave with the impression of total insanity.
Saturday night, however, I managed to spare a few more seconds to swoon in the presence of Bossy. We were walking in opposite directions and she said 'hey' TO ME (actually, now that I am thinking about it, maybe it wasn't even to me, oops) (also, despite our goal to say hi to everybody in the world, Tiff and I had already had time with Bossy, and I didn't expect any more. So don't be all, 'why didn't you say hi to her?' at me, because I already did) and so we had another very short chat where she was totally nice and awesome to me, so apparently I didn't scare her too badly before.
And I got a photo.
Bossy's Excellent Road Trip The Second: Must Include Australia.
At the People's Party, I spent a lot of time going "Oh my god, I think that's [awesome blogger]!!!"
The very first one I could not leave without seeing was Bossy. She freaking hugged SuperTiff, and there was no way I was leaving without an intro and maybe fainting at her feet or something.
I did get the intro, and had a short chat (it was very loud in there - you drunk bitches need to learn to keep it down when Bossy and I are having a moment) and I got the impression she got the impression I was batshit insane. Whatever. I can live with that. I met Bossy!
Friday night at Ruby Skye, Tiff was all, "There's Bossy!" And I was all, "Whatever, dude, that was soooo Thursday." Not that I didn't still love Bossy, but everyone has a very short attention span at BlogHer. You have to - there's a thousand people to squeal at or demand hugs from or leave with the impression of total insanity.
Saturday night, however, I managed to spare a few more seconds to swoon in the presence of Bossy. We were walking in opposite directions and she said 'hey' TO ME (actually, now that I am thinking about it, maybe it wasn't even to me, oops) (also, despite our goal to say hi to everybody in the world, Tiff and I had already had time with Bossy, and I didn't expect any more. So don't be all, 'why didn't you say hi to her?' at me, because I already did) and so we had another very short chat where she was totally nice and awesome to me, so apparently I didn't scare her too badly before.
And I got a photo.
Bossy's Excellent Road Trip The Second: Must Include Australia.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Take Her Home In My Pocket Award: Jory Des Jardin
My first award goes to the BlogHer founder I cried all over this afternoon.
We met Jory at the Newbie Mixer, and she was nice and came up and said hi, and I was impressed that the Founders were wandering and chatting, but I really shouldn't have been.
Let's fast-forward to the Macy's cocktail party.
I think we're a little past polite hellos at this point, don't you?
Jory gets this award for being one of the awesome BlogHer founders, which means it's all her fault I even came.
She gets it for being a freaking awesomely fun person to hang out with, and also because she was doing all this awesome hanging out with me.
She gets it for putting up with me telling her "I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH!" about fifty bajillion times over the course of the weekend (although, let's be honest, who doesn't want to hear that?), and for enduring me crying all over her on my way out of the hotel. And also for being the person I wanted to be crying all over at the end of it all.
Jory Des Jardin: If I could have put her in my purse and taken her everywhere with me, I totally would have. Jory, in case I didn't mention this - like, ever - I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH.
We met Jory at the Newbie Mixer, and she was nice and came up and said hi, and I was impressed that the Founders were wandering and chatting, but I really shouldn't have been.
Let's fast-forward to the Macy's cocktail party.
I think we're a little past polite hellos at this point, don't you?
Jory gets this award for being one of the awesome BlogHer founders, which means it's all her fault I even came.
She gets it for being a freaking awesomely fun person to hang out with, and also because she was doing all this awesome hanging out with me.
She gets it for putting up with me telling her "I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH!" about fifty bajillion times over the course of the weekend (although, let's be honest, who doesn't want to hear that?), and for enduring me crying all over her on my way out of the hotel. And also for being the person I wanted to be crying all over at the end of it all.
Jory Des Jardin: If I could have put her in my purse and taken her everywhere with me, I totally would have. Jory, in case I didn't mention this - like, ever - I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH.
BH&B: All Over
I am back at FCM's house. Chilling. Seriously in need of some chill-out time.
We leave San Francisco tomorrow, and we're lucky enough to get a ride in one of the GM-sponsored cars. Yay! More on that as it happens.
The conference is all over. Done. There were so many sessions and I met so many people. It was A-FREAKING-MAZING, but man, it might take me a while to post about it all.
I have decided to give out awards to people I met at the conference and maybe places and perhaps things and it should be clear that I haven't really thought this through. In addition, I will be in LA and then Vegas and then Michigan and then flying and then writing a fricking thesis, so when exactly am I going to do all this posting?
Whatever.
Point is, if you don't get posted about, it's because ... whatever. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME BUT SO VERY EXHAUSTING. Sleeeep.
We leave San Francisco tomorrow, and we're lucky enough to get a ride in one of the GM-sponsored cars. Yay! More on that as it happens.
The conference is all over. Done. There were so many sessions and I met so many people. It was A-FREAKING-MAZING, but man, it might take me a while to post about it all.
I have decided to give out awards to people I met at the conference and maybe places and perhaps things and it should be clear that I haven't really thought this through. In addition, I will be in LA and then Vegas and then Michigan and then flying and then writing a fricking thesis, so when exactly am I going to do all this posting?
Whatever.
Point is, if you don't get posted about, it's because ... whatever. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME BUT SO VERY EXHAUSTING. Sleeeep.
Friday, July 18, 2008
BH&B: Newbie Party / People's Party
Parties were awesome.
People are awesome.
There was a lot of squealing. Also alcohol.
People are awesome.
There was a lot of squealing. Also alcohol.
BH&B: CALL ME!!!
I have a new phone number for while I'm here. I wouldn't usually go around posting my phone number on the internet, but this time I actually want all you crazy (BlogHer) people to call me.
The number is:
415 254 3561
Seriously. Call me.
Or come visit. Room 1078.
The number is:
415 254 3561
Seriously. Call me.
Or come visit. Room 1078.
BH&B: What To Expect From Me At BlogHer
There are a couple of people from the blogosphere I think I would recognise. I did ok with FCM and SuperTiff at the airport. The presence of The Cutest Kid In SF helped a lot there. I would recognise a couple of Internet Rockstars. But people who don't post pictures of themselves often, yeah no way. Meaning you have to find me. This is your guide on what to look for.
Way back before I had two hours of "sleep" in thirty hours, I would have looked like this:
Now, since SF is both cold and windy, I might look more like this:
You might find me here or here:
There might be a lot of "ooh"ing at bridge!s or bussses or beep-beeps (TM The Cutest Kid In SF).
If you happen to be behind me (*cough*FCMonthecablecar*cough*), I might look something like this:
If you hear me talking, I may sound a bit Australian, as I am screaming at you "GUESS WHAT? WE'RE IN SAN FRANCISCO!!!:
And if you are really lucky, you might even get to have your photo taken with us:
So, to the 998 posts I just read that said "OMG, I'M ABOUT TO LEAVE FOR SAN FRANCISCO!" I say:Ha ha, suckers. We've already been here two days. Hurry up and get here so we can party! We can't wait to meet you. See you tonight!
Way back before I had two hours of "sleep" in thirty hours, I would have looked like this:
Now, since SF is both cold and windy, I might look more like this:
You might find me here or here:
There might be a lot of "ooh"ing at bridge!s or bussses or beep-beeps (TM The Cutest Kid In SF).
If you happen to be behind me (*cough*FCMonthecablecar*cough*), I might look something like this:
If you hear me talking, I may sound a bit Australian, as I am screaming at you "GUESS WHAT? WE'RE IN SAN FRANCISCO!!!:
And if you are really lucky, you might even get to have your photo taken with us:
So, to the 998 posts I just read that said "OMG, I'M ABOUT TO LEAVE FOR SAN FRANCISCO!" I say:
Thursday, July 17, 2008
BH&B: Auckland to San Francisco
This post was written (with pen and paper) on the plane from Auckland to San Francisco on Tuesday 15th.
VIDEO KILLED THE AEROPLANE STAR
The airline gods clearly approve of this trip. Once again, the seat next to me is free. Can I get a hell yeah?
You know, the flight attendants or stewardesses or cabin crew, or whatever they like to be called, really don't have much to do (except bring me a new I94 form because I ignored their instructions on how to fill it out). The only part of the safety demo they still physically demonstrate is where the exits are. They don't even have to mess up their hair getting the life jackets on. Also, was I the only one who giggled every time they mentioned the business class 'ottomans'? (Hee.)
I've decided I quite like flying. I like the smell. I like the food.* I like the blankets and the teeny little pillows. I like that no-one ever wants to (or, more importantly, does) sit next to me.
*Cordon bleu. And now roast lamb or ... something. (I think the fact I forgot it meant I was destined to have 'it' - fish.) And something about chocolate for dessert.
I like the free alcohol, even if I haven't taken advantage of it. (Come on, not even I am going to drink for 15 straight hours, especially with scary US immigration people at the end of it. [I had a great chat with the guy, he was awesome. He was even joking around and we messed up my photo because of it, and had to take another one. Not scary at all.]
I also like my own personal adjustable tv screen with remote control and entertainment on demand. I forsee a lot of time in the movie section. [I watched Penelope and Definitely Maybe.] So far, I've compiled my own personal playlist - some Spice Girls, little bit of Miley Cyrus, some Chris Brown, Madonna and JT, Usher, and Fergie, then some old school Abba and Bee Gees. I ran out of room for Evermore, Foo Fighters, and the Killers, but I did some shuffling and they got added.**
So far? This trip freaking rocks.
MAKE LOVE IN THIS PLANE
Track 9 in my customised playlist reads:
"Make Love In This Club - Usher feat. You..."
That right there is Usher taking the Mile High Club to a whole new level.
I finished dinner and the chick next to me (but ONE SEAT OVER!) pointed out they'd stiffed me on dessert. So I asked for one.
And then they bought me two.
And then it was triple-choc ice-cream.
And then I moved into this plane until the day I died.
The end.
Man, I have a lot to say up in the sky. I am verywitty wordy up in the sky.
PS: You try listening to the Spice Girls' Stop and not doing the actions.
WHY DO I WANT TO GO TO DISNEYLAND?
**I also like the turbulence. It's like going to a theme park! But cheaper. Or not, actually. Well, you don't have to stand in lines all day. Hmm, that doesn't work either. They don't demand a kidney for a plate of food! Wrong again, NEW ZEALAND AIRPORT'S FIVE DOLLAR CUP OF JUICE.
VIDEO KILLED THE AEROPLANE STAR
The airline gods clearly approve of this trip. Once again, the seat next to me is free. Can I get a hell yeah?
You know, the flight attendants or stewardesses or cabin crew, or whatever they like to be called, really don't have much to do (except bring me a new I94 form because I ignored their instructions on how to fill it out). The only part of the safety demo they still physically demonstrate is where the exits are. They don't even have to mess up their hair getting the life jackets on. Also, was I the only one who giggled every time they mentioned the business class 'ottomans'? (Hee.)
I've decided I quite like flying. I like the smell. I like the food.* I like the blankets and the teeny little pillows. I like that no-one ever wants to (or, more importantly, does) sit next to me.
*Cordon bleu. And now roast lamb or ... something. (I think the fact I forgot it meant I was destined to have 'it' - fish.) And something about chocolate for dessert.
I like the free alcohol, even if I haven't taken advantage of it. (Come on, not even I am going to drink for 15 straight hours, especially with scary US immigration people at the end of it. [I had a great chat with the guy, he was awesome. He was even joking around and we messed up my photo because of it, and had to take another one. Not scary at all.]
I also like my own personal adjustable tv screen with remote control and entertainment on demand. I forsee a lot of time in the movie section. [I watched Penelope and Definitely Maybe.] So far, I've compiled my own personal playlist - some Spice Girls, little bit of Miley Cyrus, some Chris Brown, Madonna and JT, Usher, and Fergie, then some old school Abba and Bee Gees. I ran out of room for Evermore, Foo Fighters, and the Killers, but I did some shuffling and they got added.**
So far? This trip freaking rocks.
MAKE LOVE IN THIS PLANE
Track 9 in my customised playlist reads:
"Make Love In This Club - Usher feat. You..."
That right there is Usher taking the Mile High Club to a whole new level.
I finished dinner and the chick next to me (but ONE SEAT OVER!) pointed out they'd stiffed me on dessert. So I asked for one.
And then they bought me two.
And then it was triple-choc ice-cream.
And then I moved into this plane until the day I died.
The end.
Man, I have a lot to say up in the sky. I am very
PS: You try listening to the Spice Girls' Stop and not doing the actions.
WHY DO I WANT TO GO TO DISNEYLAND?
**I also like the turbulence. It's like going to a theme park! But cheaper. Or not, actually. Well, you don't have to stand in lines all day. Hmm, that doesn't work either. They don't demand a kidney for a plate of food! Wrong again, NEW ZEALAND AIRPORT'S FIVE DOLLAR CUP OF JUICE.
BH&B: Adelaide to Auckland
This post was written (with pen and paper) on the plane from Adelaide to Auckland on Tuesday 15th.
THE MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE
I doubt I'll get any sympathy from any working/parent type people, but I had to wake up at 7am today.
I showered, dressed, and packed, and I even remembered my toothbrush. I was still debating my packing choices with myself in the shower, like, shouldn't you already have this sorted?
I had my last vegemite crust in Australia, at least for the next three weeks, and discovered the Housemates had left me a goodbye note tacked to the door. Considering I haven't spent much time with either of them lately, I thought that was nice. They might just be glad to get rid of me.
TO THE AIRPORT ... AND BEYOND!
Shelle came and picked me up right on time, because she is awesome and I love her. By this point, breakfast and Hannah Montana had calmed my stomach and all was well. Until we walked to the car and my laptop strap broke.
1. It's not even unusable, merely inconvenient.
2. I bought a new one at the airport, in lieu of a bottle of kahlua, so now I have a quasi spare if I need it.
3. If this has taken care of the inevitable something that goes wrong, I'm ok with that.
Shelle and I (by which I mean Shelle) got coffee (well, I got a milkshake) and they disappointed me by giving us a number instead of letting me give them my fake name. ("Hi! I'm Kylie!") Everyone should have a fake name. For Starbucks and randoms.
Had a phone call with Carla, because she is also awesome and I love her. I discovered the following:
~ She is a Birthday Extremist. Be proud, sister. That's just how we roll.
~ I am an idiot.
~ Tuesday the 4th of August does not exist in this year. (See above.)
Watched a little kid repeatedly punch his dad, asking, "Does this hurt?" every time. I'll show you what hurts, kid. When he pulled back his fist and asked the mum, she shut him down so fast. So he turned back to the dad and kept going with him. Great parenting, guys. (Thankfully, the kid is nowhere near me on the plane, as far as I can tell.)
I am now in seat 25A. In a great start to the trip, the two seats next to me were empty! I say 'were' because the second the seatbelt light went off some bitch from across the aisle took the end of my row. She's probably watching me write this. Hi, bitch! I had plans for these seats! Piss off! Love ya!
Since I am uninterested in their movie (College Road Trip? Is that even a real movie?) I am going to read some Sherlock Holmes and work on my thesis. ... Ok, you guys finish laughing and I'll be back later.
PS: I'M GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO!!!
THE MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE
I doubt I'll get any sympathy from any working/parent type people, but I had to wake up at 7am today.
I showered, dressed, and packed, and I even remembered my toothbrush. I was still debating my packing choices with myself in the shower, like, shouldn't you already have this sorted?
I had my last vegemite crust in Australia, at least for the next three weeks, and discovered the Housemates had left me a goodbye note tacked to the door. Considering I haven't spent much time with either of them lately, I thought that was nice. They might just be glad to get rid of me.
TO THE AIRPORT ... AND BEYOND!
Shelle came and picked me up right on time, because she is awesome and I love her. By this point, breakfast and Hannah Montana had calmed my stomach and all was well. Until we walked to the car and my laptop strap broke.
1. It's not even unusable, merely inconvenient.
2. I bought a new one at the airport, in lieu of a bottle of kahlua, so now I have a quasi spare if I need it.
3. If this has taken care of the inevitable something that goes wrong, I'm ok with that.
Shelle and I (by which I mean Shelle) got coffee (well, I got a milkshake) and they disappointed me by giving us a number instead of letting me give them my fake name. ("Hi! I'm Kylie!") Everyone should have a fake name. For Starbucks and randoms.
Had a phone call with Carla, because she is also awesome and I love her. I discovered the following:
~ She is a Birthday Extremist. Be proud, sister. That's just how we roll.
~ I am an idiot.
~ Tuesday the 4th of August does not exist in this year. (See above.)
Watched a little kid repeatedly punch his dad, asking, "Does this hurt?" every time. I'll show you what hurts, kid. When he pulled back his fist and asked the mum, she shut him down so fast. So he turned back to the dad and kept going with him. Great parenting, guys. (Thankfully, the kid is nowhere near me on the plane, as far as I can tell.)
I am now in seat 25A. In a great start to the trip, the two seats next to me were empty! I say 'were' because the second the seatbelt light went off some bitch from across the aisle took the end of my row. She's probably watching me write this. Hi, bitch! I had plans for these seats! Piss off! Love ya!
Since I am uninterested in their movie (College Road Trip? Is that even a real movie?) I am going to read some Sherlock Holmes and work on my thesis. ... Ok, you guys finish laughing and I'll be back later.
PS: I'M GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO!!!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
BH&B: Tuesday 15th. Again.
I'm in San Francisco. How weird is that?
Tiff and I are at FCM's house right now.
We went to Trader Joe's.
We saw Golden Gate Park.
I got freaked out by people driving on the wrong side of the road.
And now we are waiting for pizza. Really freaking awesome pizza - and that is a direct quote from FCM.
Tiff and I are at FCM's house right now.
We went to Trader Joe's.
We saw Golden Gate Park.
I got freaked out by people driving on the wrong side of the road.
And now we are waiting for pizza. Really freaking awesome pizza - and that is a direct quote from FCM.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)