I stuck this mirror into the salvation army pile because it was taking up too much space in our house. When my sister got home, she picked it up and said, "You're giving this away? But dad bought it for me in Australia."

i felt awful.

Then I turned it over and read the sticker on the back: Pier 1 Imports.
Either dad is a liar or Kelsea has a horrible memory.
(Dad is not a liar)

honk honnnnk

seattle has a lot of traffic for the number of people that bike to work in the morning
something's fishy

yard sale

Our dining room houses this old typewriter I found at a garage sale in Arizona. Here we leave messages for one another: love notes, trite jokes, testimonials, innuendos and suggestions.

When my mom got her hands on it, she typed:

Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.

Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.

Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.
Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.

in red ink.

just like that.

That phrase was once used to test speed and accuracy of typists before personal computers.
(A bit silly in a time when most professional typists were women.)

This is what ours says at the moment- take a hint. and have a swell 'Hafta sonu'. (That's Turkish for 'weekend')

The "do less" manifesto

beisbol, mi amor

oh the satisfaction i get throwing my peanut shells on the floor.
i'm lying- i had thai food.
thai food and cookie dough ice cream.
erik played the national anthem and rocked my socks off.
he is superman. no. he is wolverine.

Good Morning to You

There is some law that says if you stay up long enough past your bedtime, you will eventually find yourself making a collage.
There was no acting involved.

It's late.
I should be sleeping.
My alarm goes off at 5:15 tomorrow morning.
But I am a rebel.
I'm tapping into my college days when I didn't calculate my hours of sleep.
(And I didn't give a crap about the weather.)
Tomorrow I will not be so nostalgic-I will want to take a nap.
For now, I'm surfing the web.
Click, Click, Click.

"Mr. Trumpet Badass" has a show tonight and you are invited.
(Not my personal nickname for Erik, but I can't really argue with the homewrecker...bless her soul.)
We'll be at the Rendezvous on 2nd. Bring your flasks and fedoras.
Or Else.

Huh???