Bikes, and gents, and beads, oh my!

"Her tears will dry when I hand her the keys to our shiny new Australia." -Dr. Horrible

Yeah, I'm just putting up lines from the songs I'm listening to it. Put it in your juice box and suck it!

I think (read: I know) that's my new favorite insult/statement of defiance. I've been saying it a lot while working pre-show for Henry V (for fun), and since ma mere et ma stage manager both get a kick out of it, I persist. 

Did you know that there are few things more disarmingly charming as a very cute boy first talking respectfully to your father and then blowing you a kiss as you leave just as you begin to notice these little freckles on the bridge of his nose which you didn't know notice when you were watching him perform? Well, it's true.

Actually, I think he mistook me for someone else, because he looked all quizzically right after he blew me a kiss, but it was very cute anyway.

Anywhooooooooooo.

My bike just got fixed and I had totally forgotten how much I love that baby! Somebody (*cough* Lauren, you have a bicycle *cough*) should go riding with me. On a day when it is slightly less beastly hot. Like when the sun is setting. Or we could just make the destination of the ride a pool.

And speaking of you, Lauren, email me the Blanton pics. I NEED THEM FOR MY BIZNESS.

Well, I'm off to go see if Legendary Beads will honor a $25 gift certificate that I got for my birthday three years ago!

Ta-ta!

Too-doo-loo!

Oh! That reminds me!

We should have a tea party!

Discuss it with me at a later time! 

Puttin' on the Ritz

Semi-recent pictures of my lady-in-white outfit. (Thematically photographed in my grandmother's blue-and-white room.) I saw those pictures of the Jazz Age picnic on Governor's Island on the Sartorialist, and couldn't help myself!

The hat's my grandmother's and the skirt is from Target. Who knows about the parts!

One more time with feeling...

"Breathing's just a rhythm." -Regina Spektor

I gotta clean this place up! 

Modcloth (my one true love) is having another contest (several, actually), and I have to win AT LEAST ONE.

Right?

Root for me, now.

I feel like a Regina Spektor song: quirky, upbeat, but with a tiny speck of mournful in the center. 

Blah, blah, blah.

I finished Season 1 of How I Met Your Mother and the ending KILLED me. All the boys on that show are so adorable, adorkable, and dumb in their own special way, I wanna hug 'em all.

But especially Neal Patrick Harris! Put that in your juice box and suck it, Max!

No, he's gay.

So I can't really have him.

Damn.

:P

Haha. This is my life. Arguing about a gay guy who I don't even know.

But enough about me. 

What do YOU like about me? 

:D

How Did I Meet Your Mother?

"How I Met Your Mother". 

Good show.

Better cast.

WHY IS NEIL PATRICK HARRIS GAY? WHY MUST HE TORMENT ME SO?

Seriously.

Hilarious.

Especially at 1:49 in the morning.

See?

This is summer as it ought to be.

:D

Bemused/Amused.

It is ridiculous that I like two guys with the exact same name.

It's stupid.

It's comic gold.

Seriously, one of these days, I'm going to ask one of you to just get out your video cameras and just follow me around and see my life.

I'm in an odd mood.

I'm just going to write down main points of my life and the lives of others and write a fantastic comedy.

And then my Hollywood career will be launched and I will be able to afford those Modcloth dresses I want (read: "NEED"). 

Lalalalala!

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da!

Life goes on!

I love the Beatles.

What are guy names that are pronounced the same, but spelled differently?

(I have Stephen/Steven/Stefan, Jaymes/James, and the obvious.)

I want to play allllllllllllllllll of Shakespeare's great heroines.

And some of the heroes, too.

Not to mention, some of the villains. 

Oh, the ambition!

I had better get on that work of mine,

If I wish to see the end I hope for.

OH, SNAP.

Iambic pentameter!

I'm done now.

Look!

Check it out: 50% less angst in the below post.

Maybe even 75% less.

Oh, who can say?

Here's a picture; I missed having it in the last post. It's from the Sartorialist (aka the best fashion photography blog ever). Now imagine looking that cool in day to day life.

Remarkably chic. 

Lalalalalalala!

Looking at the picture of Mrs. Peel makes me long for Halloween.

Well, whatever.

I dug up some old songs I wrote a year or two ago and have started to record them on le computer (speaking of my laptop; Amani, you should be glad to know that it is adorned with the "C'est vrai." sticker you printed me off your fantastic label printer.)

Anywhoooooo.

They're not terrible. I've been trying to slip some Regina Spektor-esque hooks into the original melodies, and I think they may have potential. As in, Werewolf Sleepover potential. Maybe I'll email a few tracks around and hear what you all have to say.

Yeah, not a lot going on except waiting for the end of ACC with baited breath and listening to the new Regina Spektor album ("Far") over and over again on the bus.

Oh, the bus!

I love bus people, especially when they're not crazy. Of late, I have spotted: an excellent handlebar mustache, a genuine greaser, and the classic classy old lady with a purple and red hat. Plus-which, tons of adorable toddlers who think public transportation is the best thing since sliced bread. 

See, Amani? Nothing to be afraid of!