[Editor's note: Before being disappointed by this lame excuse for a post, just go read Kristina's blog. I haven't even read it yet, but I guaranteed it to be more interesting.]
Fangirls of the world-- control yourselves. I'm currently sitting on Mike Lombardo's bed. I just watched Mike Lombardo complete a Rubik's Cube. And NOW I'm attempting to write a blog while MIKE LOMBARDO plays piano. I know. It's like "Hey Molly" come to life, minus the Ninja Turtles bedspread.
The drive here was actually a lot of fun. I literally laughed out loud at my own internal monologue more than once, which suggests that a) I could survive a situation like that movie Castaway, even sans volleyball, b) I'm possibly schizophrenic, or c) I'm a self-obsessed weirdo. Eh. Either way, the Rent soundtrack alone provided enough entertainment for six full hours. If you give it enough thought, every line Roger sings is more or less hilarious. "My life was DUST!" "Time DIES!" "I'll just get FAT!"
You know, I apologize. I was trying really hard to not neglect you guys, and to write a legitimate post today. But it's difficult to focus when someone is sitting behind you, hitting you repeatedly with a Hannah Montana pillow, and yelling, "This is a Hannah MonFlogging." I promise to make up for today's lack of content and witticism at the end of the weekend, when a grown man isn't shining a flashlight in my eyes just for his own amusement. "Put two spaces and then put the word 'poop,'" he suggests as the closing to this blog. So, uh....
Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY* (It's not green. It's teal.)
*ALSO not a photo of my hand, Jess.