Lady Casual. Throwing down the peace sign. Is this a photoshopped work of art or just our lucky day??

Thanks to Amy Wood in Shanghai for the pic!
Lady Casual. Throwing down the peace sign. Is this a photoshopped work of art or just our lucky day??

Thanks to Amy Wood in Shanghai for the pic!
This is incredibly funny. You get your cell phone stolen and what the thief doesn't know of course is that you set up service for your cell phone photos to automatically upload to flickr! Voila, view your thief's people, surroundings and photographic inspirations.
via Kottke.
It's neither cool nor punk rock to smoke while pregnant.

Thanks for the great reportage, Zee Myers!
The other night we discovered how fun of a game Apples 2 Apples is. There's no right and wrong, just plenty of room for creative word association and subjective judging!! For example, two cards from which the players had to play off of were put on the table : Casual and Demanding. Is there any other game where you can put down your Anne Frank* card and get rewarded for hilarity?? No. Another good play was in response to the cards, Elitist and Lucky...of course Ghandi was the obvious choice. Love this game!!
* Although Jason reluctantly put this card down as as he's more of a logical player, the best play of the night award still goes to him - congrats!
** Meg gets an award for deeming HMOs the winner in face of Creative and Frazzled cards instead of Indiana Jones and the award goes to Jonah for successfully lobbying for his HMOs card as the obvious choice over Indiana Jones.
FYI, Mondays through Fridays almost 24 hours a day, I can be found on the 1st or 2nd floors of 87 Walker Street.

Please don't let me become a beauty school drop-out. Please don't let me become a beauty school drop-out. Please don't let me become a beauty school drop-out.
This weekend we went to see the Lizards & Snakes ALIVE! exhibit at the Natural History Museum and let me tell you, it is snaketacular and totally worth slithering.
We started out in the earth and space center and after a quick weigh-in, that was enough of that jazz for me - we were off to find the animals!

On our way to the more interesting stuff I noticed this - a photo of a packet of photos that an astronaut left on the moon. I don't appreciate this glorification of littering, Natural History Museum!

The Giant (ly Awesome) Squid:

In its grand, fake entirety:

Then it was time for some IMAX: A Journey into Amazing Caves. IMAX is as always visually stunning and it never gets old to watch it surrounded by tons of kids, all asking their parents questions every second of the movie (I find this truly adorable - no joke!) But why does the narrator sound normal while the featured characters always talk so slowly and weirdly? Jonah explained that they talk that way for children to better understand - well, it's creepy.

And then we were in the special exhibit - no line really - probably because it's a pretty small exhibit which is unfortunate but it's still worth visiting to check out the lizards and snakes up close!
Jonah and the Whale Burmese Python:

I love this posse of folks:

I'm stuck on you too, boo.

Gecko!!! Look at how big and cute your paws are!!

The Blue-Tongued Skinks are a beautiful pattern of pink and black. I can see the beautiful handbag already - that's how my mind works - I'm very creative:

Hey, Mean Green Machine! aka Eastern Green Mamba. Green suits you.

My favorite was the Gabon Viper. His head was wide and flat which made me think the Viper is the snake equivalent of the Hammerhead Shark - get it?

Thanks so much to Kathy Brew(sky) for hooking us up with tickets - really appreciate it!
This is pretty funny! Appreciate the 'tude!
But let me remind you, LA...You're talking about us! You're thinking about us! We occupy your thoughts!!*
* I have no idea why I'm harping on this East coast - West coast thing. I don't really care because...East Coast and Manhattan represent! :-)
Thanks to BrandSpankin for creating this and to KO for spotting this!
I don't know what's happening to me but instead of my usual way of documenting every second of the evening and then constructing a story out of that, I've been taking just a few photos. I strongly suspect it's my memories of spending hours and hours, sorting through thousands and thousands of photos that has haunted me into reduced photo taking. It's nice but then I need to get more creative as I try to construct something, anything, out of these random shots. The profound question to ponder here: "Is less really more??"
We were off to Michael and Michelle's for a dinner party!

Excellent work, Michelle, excellent.

There were other guests present whom I enjoyed meeting and hanging out with but this was the only guest's photo taken:

The dictionary game consists of picking a word that you think no one's ever heard of (most often, you should avoid words with latin roots - too easy!) and then you write down the correct definition while everyone else writes down a made-up definition. All the definitions are read and you do well if you are able to guess the correct definition or if your fake definition is able to fool lots of people.
Where's the photo of us playing the dictionary game?? What do you know? No photo of us playing the game. This photo, courtesy of google images, should serve as a good departure point from which you can imagine a photo of us playing the dictionary game!

Andrea, we all love the dictionary game but it's 3 am. Why don't we let our hosts sleep so that we can play the dictionary game again soon, all recharged!

Thanks to Michael Grey & Michelle Siegel for great company, delicious food and fantastic gaming!
In celebration of CollegeHumor selling to Barry Diller's IAC (the newest IAC employees chanted IAC as they took shots - it was teamwork like I've never seen), they threw a party...at Chevy's no less. Unfortunately and fortunately the drinks were so massive that I snapped a few photos and then I forgot to snap any more after that. Jonah told me I was doing the drunk Andrea thing which is to have a perma-grin, speak slowly and have droppy eyelids to which I defended myself, "NO! My eyelids are just relaxing." FYI, I had two drinks - that's how much it takes to get a thirty year old drunk - you too can look forward to turning into a cheap date.
Chevy's doesn't mess around - I was a happy customer:

So was Jonah:

So was everyone else - open bar, open buffet and not too crowded - first time in Manhattan!

Jacob and Jonah discussing the new mnemonic device contest. Sorry Jacob! Yours was good and clever with the napster theme which would have taught kids well but I guess Michael Jackson's illegal interests trumped that.

Thanks to Ricky (the Ricky that's nowhere to be found in the pictures) for the hospitality and great Chevy's choice - we've dined there every night since Thursday!
goes to...yours truly and her hubby Jonah!!!
In Kottke's contest to create a new mnemonic device since the 'death' of Pluto, we came up with one that frankly should have won but we'll proudly accept the award. As I fix the tiara on my head and Jonah and I take turns petting our trophy, enjoy our sophisticated wit:
Molesting
Very
Excitedly,
Michael
Jackson
Sucks
Underage
Nipples
* Now you know the order of the planets and that as Jonah explains, "Michael Jackson really did suck underage nipples, you know!"
** Thanks to Jason for a fun activity that clearly revealed the best in us!

* taken several years back on a family trip to the fantastic city of Lijiang, China.
Enjoy this teaser video from me and Sally's trip down south last year while I work with Ann to create a new Projects section on this site which will feature more vidoes. Yippee!
A hilarious review of a book about Italy and Italians. Enjoy!!
---
Books of the Times
An Insider Explains Italy, Land of Cheery Dysfunction
By WILLIAM GRIMES
Published: August 23, 2006
In Italy, red lights come in many varieties. A rare few actually mean stop. Others, to the Italian driver, suggest different interpretations. At a pedestrian crossing at 7 a.m., with no pedestrians around, it is a �negotiable red,� more like a weak orange. At a traffic intersection, red could mean what the Florentines call rosso pieno, or full red, but it might, with no cars coming, be more of a suggestion than a command. It all depends.
The red-light mentality, as the journalist Beppe Severgnini sees it, explains volumes about Italy and the Italians. �We think it�s an insult to our intelligence to comply with a regulation,� he writes in �La Bella Figura,� his witty, insightful tour of the Italian mind. �Obedience is boring. We want to think about it. We want to decide whether a particular law applies to our specific case. In that place, at that time.�
This principle applies to traffic regulations, taxes, solemn laws and personal behavior. Everything is personal and open to discussion. As a result, Italy totters along in a state of amiable chaos, its situation desperate but not serious, which is more or less the way Italians like it, those in charge and those, in principle, being led. �Controllers and controlled have an unspoken agreement,� Mr. Severgnini writes. �You don�t change, we don�t change, and Italy doesn�t change, but we all complain that we can�t go on like this.�
Mr. Severgnini, a columnist for the Milan newspaper Corriere della Sera, turned a fond eye on the United States in his last book, �Ciao, America!,� but this time around, on his home turf, he bites harder and deeper. The paradoxes of Italian life engage him. They bring out the reflective wit that, he argues, is native to most Italians and may be their most potent weapon in the struggle with bureaucracy and social dysfunction. Intertwined with native wit is a strong sense of self-esteem enjoyed by even the humblest Italian, as well as a fatal weakness for beauty and surface appeal, �la bella figura.�
Italians, in other words, would just as soon look good as be good. The country suffers from an ethics deficit, most clearly visible in the attitude toward taxes. Lying outrageously about one�s income is considered normal. In the United States the public regards tax evasion as morally reprehensible. If he were to cheat on his taxes in Italy, Mr. Severgnini writes, �two neighbors would come round to ask me how I did it, and two more would loathe me in silence.� No one would report him.
Mr. Severgnini presents his guide as a tour that is partly geographical and partly conceptual. Over the course of 10 days, he travels from Milan to Tuscany to the far south: Sicily and Sardinia. But the places are merely excuses for little treatises on beaches, restaurants, cellphones, airports, condominiums, piazzas, gardens and offices, all sprinkled with clever observations and telling statistics.
The differences between Italian and British flight attendants, illustrated in a hilarious vignette, help explain the Italian sense of personal drama and the national talent for creatively responding to small crises. Italian flight attendants are poor at serving you coffee but good at cleaning it up and sympathizing when you spill it. Some of this is merely glib. Mr. Severgnini, himself no stranger to the lure of la bella figura, would just as soon turn a beautiful phrase as make a point, and he might do well to heed one of his own points about the restlessly fertile Italian brain: �you can�t amaze everyone every three minutes.�
At the same time, Mr. Severgnini, as he skips lightly from one topic to the next, manages to sneak in some revealing statistics. One in three Italians finds a job through a relative. One in five has moved in the last 10 years, half the European average. Telecommuting is virtually nonexistent, engaged in by only 0.2 percent of the work force � in part, Mr. Severgnini theorizes, because it deprives Italians of the social drama of the workplace.
The Italy that Mr. Severgnini describes seethes with frustration. Government works poorly. The legal system barely functions. Too many Italians are crowded into too little space. Fear of failure stymies innovation. Mr. Severgnini is dismayed at the national genius for enjoyment and the Italian inability to plan for the future. �Our sun is setting in installments,� he writes. �It�s festive and flamboyant, but it�s still a sunset.�
Yet in many areas Italians have jumped at modernity and thrown over tradition almost casually. Cellphones are a national mania. They allow Italians to be Italian in new, entertaining ways. The shopping mall (but not Internet shopping) is popular because Italians pretend that it�s a piazza. New nonsmoking laws, widely predicted to be an absolute failure, have been accepted without a fuss. They created new gathering places and new forms of conviviality. One young man cited by Mr. Severgnini started smoking as a way to meet girls. Restaurants go in for all sorts of newfangled gadgets in their bathrooms, and Mr. Severgnini has a field day with the automated sinks, concealed light switches and baroque flush technology that challenge the Italian diner today.
There is one rule, by the way, that cannot be violated. It is wrong, and possibly illegal, to order a cappuccino after 10 a.m. This is worse than eating pizza in the middle of the day. It is nonnegotiable. Discussion over. Rosso pieno.
---
* Via Ann.
Let's discuss, in terms of personality and psychopathology, how a guy with a parrot on his head is different from or similar to a guy who wears a snake around his neck, shall we?

Thanks to KO for the heads up!
Clarification: I realized I'm old because conversations like the one below are had by young people who view drinking as a worthwhile activity in and of itself and that's highly irritating to me.
1st girl (in an like, oh my gaaahhhhd! voice): I just can't take shots of vodka anymore!
2nd girl (curious as can be): What about tequila???
1st girl (solemnly earnest): Not even tequila.
I walked by, rolled my eyes and realized I'm old...and thank god for that.
Jonah told me this morning that I sleep talked last night and it went like this:
Andrea: His skin is so...white and squishy!
Jonah: Who's skin?
Andrea looks confused then frustrated. Furrowed brow.
Andrea: Ugh. Squid!
Jonah: It's funny because you're sleep talking so I don't know what you're talking about!
Andrea continues to be frustrated, utters ugh again and rolls over.
The End.
P.S. I love squid - alive and dead.
Metallica - Some Kind of Monster is a fantastic documentary. At times comical - seeing a serious heavy metal band sitting around talking about their feelings and frustrations with each other - it's mostly heartwarming to see such vulnerability and willingness to open up and to try making their band and their lives better. As exciting as any suspense thriller, you want to know what happens! Do they disintegrate? - it sure seems like the momentum is leading that way - or could they possibly save themselves, each other and the band? This is not a documentary about Metallica so if you're worried that you don't like them and therefore can only surmise you won't like it, think again. I only like two Metallica songs and when I say like them I mean that I don't own them, never have come close to owning them but when I hear them I can appreciate them. While there are aspects of the story that are Metallica specific, this is really a human drama about a company (not a sexy way to look at it but true)/band/family (they've been together over 20 years - imagine that for a second) that finally decides to grab the group's disfunction by its horns and to try creating new, healthy ways of interacting. Individually, they choose to grow up and take responsibility for their actions even though there are numerous times when being an irresponsible, self-absorbed, heavy metal rocker seems much more appealing. Funny sidenote: They and other bands with as much lasting power may have started out as scruffy, rebellious kids on a tourbus but they now spend time in the Ritz and are driven around in Benzes.
I came away from the film identifying with and sympethizing with Lars Ulrich most. His dad earned a little spot in my heart - you'll see what I mean. I also came away with confirmation that documentary film is a godsend of a medium.
The perfect day is saturated with both low brow amusement and high brow enjoyment!
Start in Coney Island, only exactly 45 minutes on the D train from Broadway-Lafayette and you're there (Oh my god! It's soooo close! I'm going to come here all the time!!)! Stand under the Cyclone and you can get a feel for the relaxing childhood home of Alvy Singer and of course you can enjoy the deliciously politically incorrect Shoot The Freak while pondering how the poor freak kid nuances this summer job.

Admire the strange architecture:

Then dip your twinkle toes in the water and meditate on how often you're really going to make the trip out there:

And it's off to The History Boys a play Celeste and I heard good things about and I'm relieved to say it was good and definitely worth seeing. Parents in town?? You're rich enough to go to the theater?? You're just so sick of only seeing movies and you've decided against the interests of your bank account to become a theater-goer?? You won't be disappointed. I was rather surprised and impressed by the hip use of multi-media against the backdrop of an age-old story (particlarly British) of high school boys prepping to get into college (Oxford & Cambridge of course). Mysteriously light-hearted and strangely grave, this play will have you discussing it for hours! Until the discussion goes back to the Freak of course...
* Thanks to Celeste for a wonderful day of high brow, low brow and everything in between!!
** Please don't forget to eat a Nathan's hot dog while in Coney Island but be warned, have a gallon of water on hand otherwise you'll be parched and your tongue will feel like's a cat's for the next 6 - 8 hours - guaranteed.
Let me tell you, it's been a real bitch waiting for these private residences to be ready.

Get that scaffolding off there and let me move into my peeeeeeenthouuuuuuuse!!!!!

I already have the blonde kid and the Versailles furniture ready.


are a fun place to watch basketball!

* P.s. hope you're looking forward to more posts of the obvious variety!!
Thanks to Michelle for the link!
In all seriousness, what to do about pedophiles? I find myself thinking about their plight fatalistically as opposed to rehabilitatively. What can realistically be done to fix them, prevent them, help them?
While not exactly the same, these should make their way onto your nighttime body. It's especially delightful to wake up and crave raw fish.

* Thanks to Jonah for the best present, a year after we met.
Judgement Ridge is another in my reading series of well-written and well-researched true crime novels. Its subject matter is the murder of Dartmouth professors Half and Susanne Zantop in January 2001 by two Chelsea, Vermont teenagers. One was much more the leader and the other, a follower. The leader of course was a psychopath who wanted to kill just for the sake and thrill of killing while the follower primarily wanted his friend's acceptance. And because of these dynamics, the cluelessness of the town and parents (I know, I always blame them!) and the purchase of two Navy Seal knifes, two life-affirming people and teachers were dead. Two Boston Globe reporters write a compelling, detailed analysis of how this horrid event happened.
Boston Globe writes, "One of the best books of the year...Join's Truman Capote's classic In Cold Blood as one of the standards in crime writing."
Update: As Monkeyface suggested in his comment, there are newly released tape recordings of 9/11. I never thought I'd say this but after imaging what it would be like for the loved ones of 9/11 victims, it would behoove Time Warner to program their radio station for holding customers to easy listening.
This just happened and I'm not sure what to think.
In between pressing 1 for English and 0 for Operator were two recordings:
1) Narrator voice: "The call came from the 75th floor of the tower..."
2) Panicked voice: "I can't see and there's smoke." Operator voice: "Is there smoke? There isn't smoke, is there?"
...and then a customer service rep picked up.
I think it's reasonable to say that these were transcripts, real or dramatized from 9/11 but was this a movie preview for World Trade Center? It never said it was. Was this accidentally played to customers on hold?? I couldn't help but think this experience would have been utterly traumatic for someone who was directly affected by 9/11. This experience, meaning, to be on hold with Time Warner. Life is so weird.
He's training people to give his Global Warming slideshow to audiences around the world.
If that's not totally hip and cool, I don't know what is.
* via Kottke.org.
Last night I experienced my first Public Theater event in Central Park's gorgeous Delacorte Theater. We saw the debut performance of Mother Courage and Her Children starring the indomitable Meryl Streep and the always commendable Kevin Kline among others. The play originally written by Brecht and translated by Tony Kushner was poignantly directed by George C. Wolf. There were moments when it all seemed too fortunate and too surreal to be sitting in a divine open-air theater, under the stars, witnessing such great actors. To top off the evening as we walked through the serene and magical Central Park near midnight, Jonah explained Brecht's Marxist background, his intentionally didactic play writing and play directing style which forces the viewer to feel alienated and disengaged from the characters and story in order to recognize and be critical of the effects of capitalism on our lives. It was a truly fantastic evening.
If you're a fellow New Yorker who even after five plus years of living and loving NYC has yet to experience Shakespeare in the Park, do so!
Thanks for the unforgettable experience, Kenny!
Where the hell is Luxembourg and what is Luxembourg all about?? Now we'll know.
Over dinner the other night Jonah and I started discussing, "what country's people drink the most?" and thanks to Trusty Sidekick, we discovered a 2003 study showing Luxembourgians to own that title - much to the despair of Australians.
And if the ranking is confusing here's some analysis that will edify:
"As is shown in the table, the countries leading in total alcohol consumption per drinking-age person in 2003 were Luxembourg, Hungary, the Czech Republic, Ireland, and Germany. There were significant disparities in the level of consumption across countries among different types of alcoholic beverages. For example, although most of the leading consumers of alcoholic beverages drank significant quantities of wine, many drank relatively low quantities of distilled spirits. The leading beer-drinking countries were the Czech Republic, Ireland, Germany, Austria, and Luxembourg. Russia, Latvia, Cyprus, the Czech Republic, and Japan were among the leading consumers of distilled spirits. Ireland and Russia had the highest rates of heavy alcohol consumption among women, while Russia, Hungary, and Austria had very high rates among men. Portugal and Spain had high rates of per capita consumption, but, since they also had high rates of abstinence, the per capita number of very heavy drinkers was higher than it was for countries such as France with few abstainers."
This week's New York Magazine takes on this momentous meditation with articles, interviews and columns worth reading.
And join in on the comment chaos*:
* What do I think about comments? It's funny you should ask because I have lengthy, detailed and exhaustive thoughts on this matter. I believe that insightful, worthwhile comments are rare. I also believe that people willing to comment at length about everything and anything that comes to their minds whether or not it serves the larger goal of a compelling site are plenty. Curiously enough, the specific comments on this HuffPost post are simultaneously exemplary of this and anomalistically interesting.
Thanks to Jason's investigative eye we now know that beer shaped sausages exist in the midwest and thank god they do:
The Eleven-Minute Psychiatrist: The Stop Smiling Interview of Errol Morris by James Hughes.

After over one year, here are the pics from my hen party!
I'm a hen! I'm a bachelorette! I'm a princess. Wearing more makeup than I've ever worn:

Wow! Such useful goods! Penis lollipop, penis necklace, penis tarts. Thanks friends!

Hey, it's a whip gift! It's now in a shambles from overuse:

Plaid, schoolgirl underwear! Sexy!

Small animals are a must at every bachelorette party! You may recall them in action here.

And a t-shirt I continue to glean advice from:

Polaroids, always a crowd-pleaser!

Hey, where's Andrea Spratt??

A quick but necessary photo shoot of me and my lollipop in public:

And then we're en route to the Beauty Bar!

Our cabbie begged to come along with us:

While they got their hair done:

I got my nails done:

And as it always does at hen parties, the conversation steered towards the personal and the profane:

Really?? None of you have ever ______???!!! exclaimed the manicurist:

I swear, I've never ________! I'm so lame.

Stop me.

Gabby's last beer before her pregnancy which recently resulted in this little thing!

Our best Jerri Blank impresson - good? Bad:

Half the hen house:

The other half:

Look at Andrea. That neck. You are the funniest. I miss you, leave LA and come to NYC!!

Since the day we met as 14 year olds, we've been highly attractive, sophisticated individuals:

Easily the craziest of the bunch. They may or may not have ended the night by dancing on stage with the stripper pole, kindly provided at Plan B:

Onto Sing Sing!
This is why I have deep furrow lines!

Get the lady on the right a mic! Quick!!

Work it:

Where's Spratty??

Passion of different degrees:

What, me?? A mic hog??!!

Look at that finger work!

I popped a blood vessel:

Feeling, woah, woah, woah, feeeeeeeeling

Endless Love. Andrea is Lionel Ritchie and Lily is Diana Ross:

Intensity!!

Enough is enough!

The night really should be coming to a close...how about now?

End of the night group shot - who are those other people???

* Thanks to Andrea, Lily, Celeste, Mary, Gabby and Zee for the gifts, the good times and the LOVE.
can be found on Canal Street:


* great shot of Duncan by Jonah.
and drool covering the left side of my face and I was happy - the happiest I've been at 8:30 am in as long as I can remember.
And what do I have to thank for my good fortune?? A big black sheet, tacked over my windows. I hadn't been sleeping well for a while and I couldn't figure it out. I felt like there wasn't enough separation between my waking life and my sleeping life. My stress and anxiety spilled over into my dreams and I was stressed about being that stressed! I'd go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and feel 100% awake and alert which is no fun at 3 am. Then I'd wake up in the morning with a furrowed brow that would remain all day and I'd feel tense from not getting to experience the escape that sleep should provide!
Well folks, take it from me. If you're someone who experiences similar sleeping problems, I strongly encourage you to black out your room as much as possible and let yourself enjoy your first good night of sleep in a long time...even if you drool buckets - it's a sure sign that you're deep in drool sleep.
P.S. I might have overlooked one integral ingredient to last night's sleeping success. Jonah sang Bob Marley medleys to me until I fell asleep. One song seamlessly into another! With extreme emotion and rich accent imitation! That must not be overlooked.
Our Guys is an extremely well-written, thoroughly researched and penetratingly analytic study and account of the crime that took place in a Glen Ridge, NJ basement in March 1989. A mentally retarded girl was raped by a handful of jocks and Lefkowitz examines not only the perpretrators and the victim but also the town, its values and the adults who were all, to varying degrees, culprits to this horrendous crime. What unfolds is a grim picture of a culture that worshipped school athletes above everything else, the confused and often twisted sexuality of teens in our over-sexed society and the leg up that people of higher socio-economic levels will always have. Furthermore Lefkowitz doesn't shy away from the complexities of the case which make the case uncomfortably gray at times but ultimately results in a richer, more nuanced investigation. If this sounds interesting to you let me warn you, it's hard to put this book down, even at 500 plus pages long.
The New York Times Book Review writes, "Extraordinary. A calm, methodical, painstakingly researched, and important book that should be read by parents and eductors alike."


* Andy & Jonah a while ago. Speaking of Andy...if you haven't yet seen The Yes Men, rent it already!
Who knew that this little girl would grow up to become a blogger? It was actually written all over the socks. This little girl is Katy, my friend from high school and an East Coast defector who is now West Coast and loving the LA life. She's a lover of fun 24/7 and celebrity 25/7- those of you who obsess too much with celebrity, you've met your match! You can check it all out on KatyOliver.com!
Looking back at our time at Choate when we were nice, bad girls who took too many pictures - it's obvious we were simply photo bloggers in training.
Congrats on your blog, Katy!
Frida and roses for size. The roses were older than the less than 24 hour old Frida:

She broke free of her cocoon:

Frida and Mommy Gabby!

Me and Frida, old friends:

Congratulations to Gabby, Stephen and Luca Nicosia!!
It was very sweet. Jonah planned a whole evening of surprises.
It began at Balthazar with a kiss for making it to 30 and still looking 19 (just leave this statement alone):

Delicious Steak au Poivre:

And then surprise! Meeting up with friends at Bowlmor Lanes! I was so happy not to be sitting in a bar, drinking with friends and not doing anything besides drinking and talking...I think someone's really turned 30!!

In case you forgot how old I turned...

Forget 'birthday'! Let's just celebrate the person!

Duncan lit the candles - he's had a thing for fire since a very early age:

Do I have to turn 30?? Yes.

Summoning up the breath...it's tough after 30 years of bong hits (hilarious!):

Freshly whipped cream and my favorite...strawberries!!

Every party needs cartoon plates:

Time to get serious:

Guess who??

Team huddle!

Another bunion (albeit smaller) in the midst! Don't worry, I won't tell who it belongs to...Annie.

They've been married for 5 years and been on the same bowling league for 10:

Duncan dislocated his shoulder and we had to pop it back in, Lethal Weapon style - he stops at nothing for bowling:

Annie and Sally and Strawberry:

I do a real disappearing act when I bowl:

Lily & Sandy:

Mary 'Ball of Fire' Patterson:

You can do it, sweet pea.

To each his own...

Sally & Tosan:

The Passion of the Bowler (Sandy):

Peace signs are contagious - spread the cheer:

Thanks hubby!

End of the night - time to walk into traffic - j/k.

Everything good must come to an end...in the garbage shoot:

Thanks to Jonah and friends for a super fun evening, for contributing goods, for the photos (I didn't take a single one!) and for the LOVE.
* For those not yet 30, know that the pain is temporary. The week leading up to and then the culmination on birthday day is painful but the next morning it's all gone...and so are your 20's.
Congratulations to Mark & Tamara Wilkie on the arrival of their little qt!!

Josie, now we've just got to get you a bunch of pussycats and you'll be all set to rock 'n roll!

* Elizabeth & Houston
Entourage is such a great show. The dialogue is incredibly well-written and the plotlines keep me wanting more, all the time. If you're like a lot of guys, you'll enjoy living your fantasy vicariously through these dudes. My fave characters: Ari Gold (easily the best character), Turtle and E.
Here are the DVDs for Season 1 and 2 in case you want to get me a belated birthday present:
Here are some quotes to titillate you although my favorite, which may well be the raunchiest, is not listed here.
Hey, tumbler! Hamster hazard: tumbling.
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Bam! In the mouth.

There are furry babies on my fingers.

What up doc? High five.

It's not so bad to have flat ears! His sister has no idea how to calm him.

Woah. Arms wide cautiously open to you too!

Gottcha!
