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So I am going to the Midwest on Saturday. Minneapolis to be specific. My sister lives there and since she has stayed with me in Seattle many a time I am going to return the favor. Jenny if you are reading this you best have some coffee in your house. Not drinking it yourself is not going to cut it as an excuse (who doesn’t drink coffee?? Blasphemy).
Anyway. The part of the visit I am probably most excited for, other than eating dinner here and I guess seeing my lovely sis, is the Minnesota State Fair. I LOVE me a good fair and I can only assume that Midwestern fairs are the pinnacle of fairdom. Greasy food, podunkers galore, janky rides assembled off the back of trucks, random craft projects, oh man I am getting excited about this but possibly the best part is that, as I found out when I ogled the schedule online today, the Minnesota State Fair has a special section set aside FOR NEWBORN FARM ANIMALS. DAH. Yeah they will probably all be eaten within a year but I will try not to focus on that.
Yay Monday! Yeah it isn’t really Monday but I work from home Monday which is amazing and leads Tuesday to feel like the real Monday since Monday was spent in my PJs on my couch talking to my dog. While working really hard too! Of course.
Anyway, a little weekend recap. The weekend’s highlight was probably happy hour hopping ON THE MONORAIL. I know, so glamorous and futuristic. I’ve lived in Seattle for like 6 years or something and had never experienced this relic. It was actually mildly thrilling at one point when the rail curves and the car sort of goes on its side. Yep. It was kind of janky but it didn’t crash or burst into flames as I believe it has been known to do on a couple occasions.
The actual happy hour part was sweet, too. Barolo has a delicious and amazing happy hour which is practically impossible to get into during the week unless you can get there at like 4 (and if you can I want your job). But, at 3:30 on a Saturday when my lush friends and I went, you can totally get in and then have two bottles of wine, hangar steak, rigatoni, fried calamari, grilled Caesar salad, and tuna tartare for a total of like 60 bucks. Amazing. Plus they have what is possibly the best-looking staff I have seen in any Seattle establishment if you are into the eye candy.
I will leave you with this.
The thing I want most in life is undeniably a magic carpet. I spend wayyyy too much time thinking about this which is depressing on many levels. But, the magic carpet would seriously be the most amazing invention of all time. Screw you penicillin, birth control pills, and the dishwasher. Why are we wasting valuable scientific brain power on cancer research when there is no magic carpet yet? JUST THINK ABOUT IT. IT WILL BLOW YOUR MIND. No traffic jams and accompanying air pollution. No hideous bus commute to the hideous suburbs where I and many other innocent city dwellers have the misfortune to work. No standing downtown with bloody blisters on your feet and broken stilettos in your hands whilst simultaneously sobbing, texting, and fruitlessly attempting to hail a cab. Just try to think of a downside. THERE ISN’T ONE. It’s a MAGIC carpet, which negates any potential problems with the concept and also implies climate control, beverage options, and any other wondrous amenity one can conjure. It could have save J Lo’s 4th marriage or whatever number she was up to. Ugh this is hurting my brain. Happy Friday mofos.
I LOVE trashy reality TV. There is almost nothing I won’t watch. Binge drinking in hot tubs? MORE. Hair extension-pulling feuds? Yes please. Plastic surgery makeovers from celebrity surgeons with questionable medical ethics? Bring it on. I must say I am brimming with excitement for two shows in particular this season. Jersey Shore and Russian Dolls.
Jersey Shore (which was filmed in Florence Italy this season! duh) has already kicked off and did not disappoint. Hot damn am I excited for some guido-continental culture clashing. And then there is Russian Dolls on Lifetime, premiering tomorrow. Television has found a new cultural stereotype to exploit, Russian-Americans! But seriously I sort of wish I was Russian-American with razor sharp Slavic cheekbones and an amazing accent and could get away with wearing an ankle length fur coat and leopard print pants. I hope this show is amazing.
I have returned from my husband’s 10 year high school reunion unscathed. There were two main freaky moments that stood out: 1. Some guy who said he worked for the boy scouts (chimo!) 2. Some chick wearing an all-denim romper. Interesting choice of attire…But other than these two incidents of awk, it wasn’t really that painful. My ten year reunion in AZ over Thanksgiving may be another story, stay tuned…
Oh, and I broke my no-shopping resolution. TO BUY A ROMPER, OH THE IRONY. But it was (is) a $12 Forever 21 romper and NOT denim. And this went down in PDX so no sales tax, ha ha. So my little slip up wasn’t too egregious.