Saturday afternoon my aunt Vicki and her crew — boyfriend Paul and friend Ralph — rolled into town for the UT-Memphis football game, an affair we had been planning for months. We had a few hours to kill and found ourselves at India Palace, heaping piles of deliciousness onto stark white buffet plates. Why is it that I can never remember to wait and get a big plate from the middle, and instead, always end…
Things the bf and I may have yelled at the TV while watching the Colts-Eagles game when Austin Collie got smacked around a bit and the officials called unnecessary roughness and Collie laid pretty still there for a several minutes: “Get that vegetable off the field!” “Yeah, this isn’t a farm!” I am only posting this because Collie turned out to be merely concussed or some such and also because I have no shame.
Wa-POW! I just hit you with a sneak attack of adorableness. Are your knees weak? You might oughta go take a pregnancy test. Yes, even you fellas. If you were unable to withstand this attack of unfiltered Daphne adorability, you might ought to steer clear for a while. I know I’ve got at least one more ULTRA-SECRET SNEAK ATTACK OF TOOTH-DECAYING SWEETNESS coming up. My friends gross me out with how adorable their offspring are.…
Ahhhh, election night. I’ve been home roughly an hour now and I’m a glass in and I just want to listen to Sleigh Bells because it’s simple and dirty and distorted and I kind of just want to bob my head along to a beat right now. I have to keep the volume at a reasonable level, I suppose, because I am no longer the only person in my house. I kind of love that.…
When Kristin came to visit last week and we needed a way to kill a Wednesday afternoon, we ended up at Lichterman Nature Center, where I’m fairly sure I went as a kid on a field trip once. Faaaairly sure. Anyway, being there as an adult is weird. Supposedly it’s how this area of the country would look if not for urban development. I think about those giant lily pad things being everywhere and it…
Back in my day, you could elect to carve a pumpkin and it would stand tall (if somewhat increasingly moldy and smelly) for weeks. Sure, the sheer force of gravity and effects of oxygen would eventually turn the jack-o-lantern in on itself, turning its face into something resembling a toothless old man, but you felt like you got your money’s worth out of him at least. They just don’t make jack-o-lanterns like they used to,…
Sorry for the crappy cellphone pictures, but they don’t let you cart a big camera just anywhere in our fair city, you know. Upon the suggestion of my friend Ashley, we went to see Wicked at The Orpheum on Sunday. I’m sort of inexperienced when it comes to real live musicals (I saw Cats and A Doll’s House at TPAC, I think?, while in middle and high school) and — short of Tim Burton movies…
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