The Boat Captain

Hello. How did I almost forget to show you this?

(Edited to add: On the Whitefish Chain of Lakes -- a weekend with the Blum Family Robinson in a rather "rustic" cabin. Here, in a fancy rented boat, floating, lost.)

Walgreen's, Aisle 4C

I stumbled upon a "first feminine products" discussion last night.
The Girlwoman is hair-in-the-face mortified while the Momwoman attempts to discuss how to prevent night leakage. She hisses all of her words:
"Please! People can hear you."
"Well there are some who need a little extra protection while they sleep."
"Ohgodmom. Just shhh! I don't care. Let's go."
"She's not even listening."
But I was, of course. I always am. Especially if it's somebody else's embarrassment.
Which brings me to: water skiing, whose ass I totally kicked this weekend for about 30 seconds! Nobody with a video camera to document! It was awesome! And then there was the aftermath. A terreeble pain in my focking ash.

Nine years. No whammies.

Today was our nine year dateaversary!
What have you done with your life? Am I right?
Eventually I'm going to find a photo of Matt that makes him look like a hobo, just to be fair.
I stalled dinner as long as I could to watch one Michael Phelps swim like a butterfly for 200 m, then we celebrated all of our victories at the delicious 112 eatery.
Victories: (moral) not succumbing to gladiator sandals, (mental) big multiplication without pencils or calculators, (financial) possibly buying a photography studio, (naval) I have a naval
Later, Matt asked the oven to clean itself.
Outcomes: one fire alarm, zero clean ovens.

Straight Thuggin'

I need to see Step Up 2: The Streets. My students expect something of me, along the lines of urban cultural competency, and I am not one to disappoint. In that realm.
Somebody better stick up a chubby white arm and volunteer to view it with me.
Also, can we talk about irrational anger? Because aren't these things somehow related without needing transition? Meh?
I find myself swearing at people in traffic more than is becoming to a lady of my station. Today, por ejemplo, some assface motioned for me to walk across the street. Stops in the middle of the street to motion me across. No, no, I waved. It's your turn. He motioned me AGAIN, at which point I threw up my hands and started walking. Give me a break, Passive Aggressive Minnesota. Don't do me any favors so you can drive away calling me the b word in your brain.
That same volunteer mightshould reach over and turn up the Christian radio station for me to drown out my foul mouth.

Just this:

>

In Which There is Much to Exclaim

Heeeeey boyyyyyzzz. I'm also posting over at Matt's blog lately, as he is my summertime employer. It is all photoshoots and lattes and high blood pressure. Come hang out!
Plus! An ill-advised purchase which resulted in an ill-advised termination of previous cellular phone contract! Totally worth it!

iPhone and I had a little photo booth session today while the boss was out of the office. Which is kind of still work, right?

Look at all those nudes in the background getting jealous. No, Nudes. She's mine.

Gratuitous Photos of My Handsome Friends and their Grandmas

Matt and I arrived in New York on Monday for a spot of photo taking. Pinkies up, Everyone! Not realizing that today would be the first and last All-Star Game at Yankee Stadium. So it's not just us. It's every sap this side of the Atlantic.
We spent most of those few days in traffic.
Awesome!

A few images from Meg and Aaron's wedding, since you've waited so patiently. What is this, a photoblog? No. But this is. Oh, snap.
Here is me, taken by SaraJ, who likes to catch me in humbling moments. There were a few where I didn't make hobo eyes at Abe Lincoln, but I included this one for my mother. Hey Mom, I got that forward with all the Anne Geddes babies. Neat.

Brenna:

Grandma Marie:

Adam:

Adam and SaraJ:

Mike:

Ash and Mike:

The Couple of Marriage Duo Twosome:

Another:

Cute. But not as cute as jumping females:

New Man in Town

He's here!

Meet James Eric.

You can also see him here. And at Anne's house, although it's getting kind of crowded.
This is when I got to hold him and my throat got all froggy with excitement.
That'll happen.

This is Jimmy with his foxy mom.

She makes me look bad, so I put her last. Because I can.

Followed up by "Kickin' It Lakeside" and "The Long Road to Beaver Bay"

I returned from a bike ride last Monday to find a note on my windshield: somebody hit my parked car! Woohooo! It's collection time. Like most things I can't be bothered to do, this still requires effort on my part.
What's the statute of limitations on good citizenship? I'm afraid she might rescind her offer to pay for the damages. But not the kind of fear that changes behavior. That I reserve for animal attacks.
Speaking of which, I was all Northwoodsy this weekend for Meg + Aaron's wedding. (Photos forthcoming. I've reached a new intersection of inaction and productivity. When I wasn't hiking in flip flops and treading the shores of Lake Superior, I was imbibing libations with others of age. A band of beer bottle percussion was formed. We will call ourselves "Stomp. Nah. Sit Down. Drink This. We Could Go Into Town, but We Already Missed the Fireworks." Our first single: "You Should Have Been There" will be released later this fall.

Want to Buy: Pellet Guns, Pellets.

Another marginal sleep night thanks to our thoughtless neighbors. The Minneapolis PD and I have grown closer since the weather turned nice. I feel better about this, if they're willing to stop by to break up a party.*
It's a Wednesday night! Even in college, Wednesdays don't count as the weekend unless you're a hockey player. Every night is a weekend if you play hockey. Plus your hair is long and you're an asshole. And your hands smell from those sweaty gloves.
We're calling the landlord today.

*Non-SequiturBrainchild: a comic called Civil Cervantes! in which Don Quixote and Sancho Panza play police partners in a modern day metropolis, but their cases all go awry. Blanket tossings! NBC, give me a call.