I know half of my reaction to this current crisis is due to PMS, but my work related anxiety is getting out of hand. I need to get a grip. Pray for sleep. It doesn’t look good.
From separate parties in the same afternoon. It seems people trust me where food decisions are concerned.
Like he was born to be chauffeured.
I’m only eating bread salad for the rest of the summer.
File under: Reasons Megan is my food wife. She hosts a lovely dinner party.
Having Shake Shack so close is a blessing and a curse. We were supposed to head down to Momofuku Ssam Bar, but we are lazy and lame.
Sometime getting sunburned shoulders is a workday hazard.
This dog. I missed him so much. We’ve been engaged in major snugging ever since I got back.
At the airport this morning.
I’m driving around the Plaza District of Oklahoma City with my parents on Monday because my dad wants to find the house he lived in during his early twenties. He has a general idea of the location and after weaving up and down a few streets he exclaims, “There it is!” We pull over to have a look and I’m immediately struck by the interesting architecture, then I notice the crazy lawn art and a sign that says “Please do not disturb the tenants” on the front porch. It seems vaguely familiar and it dawns on me that this must be Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne’s compound, a fact I verify via text with my friend Greg. (Though apparently it is no longer Coyne’s primary residence.) My dad used to live in that house with four roommates in the early sixties! I don’t think my parents grasped just how cool that is, but I was freaking out.
The 25 pound watermelon.
I just bought four pounds of purple hull crowder peas!