BOOM!

What a great weekend. Just up one side and down the other, awesome. It started off with a bike ride around town + dinner with Tyler (oh, how I miss you, friend), and some congratulations beers for Ben at Solly's. Which was actually incredibly packed and loud, but my friends are fun to talk to even in uncomfortable circumstances.

Friday morning Holly and I took a trip to Sweden, Maryland for some modular furniture and lingonberry sauce. I outfitted my back yard with some sweet duds, got a new bedspread, and apparently shocked the entire line of people waiting to eat when I said the words "Swedish Meatballs." A full conversation stop, heads whipping around to stare at me awkward whiplash fell upon the cafeteria line after I responded to Holly's question of what I was going to get. It was sort of inexplicable. A nap and some house project time later, we went to Sticky Rice for a quick bite, then to Nat's park! I had never been before! It is pretty awesome! And Sam and Dan were there, so the whole experience pretty much gets an A+. We capped off the night with some stooping at Andrew's, as all Bloomingdale nights should.

Holly was my partner in crime all weekend; Saturday we spent the day getting supplies for the Big Bear 4th of July extravaganza. I thought that two cases of sparklers would be too much. It was, in fact, not enough; tons of people brought tons and tons more, and the huge crowd of party people went through them all. And it was great. Really an awesome, awesome party. The Big Bear 4th of July is officially my favorite event of the year, after two consecutive summers of just being the best. Amazing food, great music, a huge dance party, roof top fireworks viewing (the citizen fireworks displays in DC are really phenomenal). It was glorious.

Sunday, I did my weekly big bear/farmers market ritual trip and made a blueberry cobbler. The intended destination of the cobbler was out to The Manor, where Josh so kindly invited us to visit. The cobbler was a total fail -- I used about twice as much fruit as I should have, so there's a thin crust atop what is essentially blueberry soup. Still tasty, but not Manor-worthy, so it got left in the city. Josh got off a plane, came to bloomingdale, picked us all up, and drove us out to his absurdly amazing little slice of heaven out in Virginia (because Josh is the nicest person in the universe). 100 and some odd acres of woodlands and wetlands and river and a swimming pool and a house with so many doors I got really turned around and bathrooms with heat lamps and... trust me, it was amazing. We cooked out and took a really cold swim, pumped some fat jams, watched some buy-one-get-two-free fireworks go boom, and all pretty much passed out after a really long, really great weekend.

From the You Can't Make This Shit Up files

"C. Thomas Howell will host a CMT reality show about extreme Americans, featuring people who races ostriches and juggle chainsaws."

That's from Jezebel's Dirt Bag feature -- my personal favorite access point to unnecessary gossip. My personal favorite C. Thomas Howell vehicle has always been Side Out, the harrowing tale of a young legal intern who moves out to California to sell his soul to the devil serving eviction notices to poor unsuspecting individuals on behalf of his super rich uncle, but gets sidetracked by the alluring, seedy underworld of competitive beach volleyball. It's got everything you could ever want in a terrible summer sports movie -- a suffocating array of neon clothing, Courtney Thorne-Smith, a slow motion cheering scene, a scandal involving an athlete betting against himself and throwing the big match, sexy naked time in a swimming pool. It's probably playing on channel 20 as we speak, so just turn on your tv and enjoy this gem from 1990.

Of course, my second favorite C. Thomas Howell performance is Soul Man, an unparalleled commentary on Affirmative Action. And of course, you can't talk about C.Tom without mentioning his big screen debut in E.T. He played Tom Howell, a character I've heard he wasn't quite sure how to really empathize with. The pathos he brought to that scene around the dinner table, and the speed with which he rode his bike were what really made this movie something special.

This is the single greatest collection of YouTubes ever assembled

Happy birthday, GFY. I dedicate everything you posted here to Abby, the nearly dearly departed. Please don't go, girl.

If your day is full of heartbreak at the hands of dognappers

This might cheer you up a bit. It's helping me some.

Help! Stolen Dog!

Molly, a 4 year old Viszla that some good friends of mine take care of, was stolen from outside the P St Whole Foods last night around 6 p.m. I have met this puppy, and she is the sweetest thing on the planet. If you see her or have any info, please contact the owners at findmollydog@gmail.com.



Molly is about 60 lbs, with short, red/rust hair. She is very friendly and responds to her name. She has a scar inside her right hind leg and wears a pink nylon collar with cupcakes on it. Owners are offering a reward.

I've been sick

Stomach flu or something like that. Not fun! But as the filet o' fish I realized I couldn't live without as I drove home just proved, I'm back on solid foods!

Also, apparently I have a new ritual. Without planning it, the last couple times I've had days off work due to being illlllll, I've watched How I Met Your Mother dvds. And man, I always forget how long it takes Ted & Robin to get together. And man, Ted, you sure are boring!

that emu thinks he's brian fellows!

A little while ago, I was sure I found the best human meets bird story of the day. I mean, seriously, how can you bean a story of an adorable young zookeeper incubating a rejected emu egg, and the chick thinking, from birth, that he's her father. You can't right? WRONG! Along came the tale of the hawk and the jerk chicken joint. Happy Friday, people.

Oldies but Goodies

My iTunes just served up "Portions for Foxes," which reminded me of a conversation Spencer and I had many many many moons ago.

Me: It's like that Rilo Kiley song. "The talkin' leads to touchin'..."
Spencer: "And the touchin' leads to sex."
Me: "And then there is no mystery left. And it's bad news bad news bad news."
Spencer: Oh, right. I think guys just stop listening at "sex."

This has got to be the most ernest hug of all time.

Catherine captures the love that you get for stuffed zucchini and cherry cobbler.

I went to three shows last week

My gushing take on Dirty Projectors/TV on the Radio is over at DCist. It was just phenomenal.

Harlem Shakes/Passion Pit: Tom has some good points. And so does Nathaniel. Overall: the Shakes reek of intense musicianship and are just a really, really good band that can play around all circumstances and make it worth an audience's time. Passion Pit were enjoyable but not at all impressive. Sort of like when you're at a club that's playing the same droney electronica song after song after song. And you're dancing and having fun and people are pretty and the lights are shiny, so you're having a good time! But, the music's not particularly inspiring. Passion Pit just didn't give much to the audience, and the most exciting musical moments they provided were from pre-recorded back tracks. So. Harlem Shakes FTW.

The Avett Brothers weren't as inspiring as when we saw them in Charlottesville last year, but it should still be said -- it's incredibly refreshing to see a band that goes completely all the way out for their fans, and see their fans give it all the way back to them. Jaded by my status quo (indie rock crowds that talk and give bands they've paid to see disregard), it was really great to see a crowd completely rapt and devoted to what was happening up on stage. The show had some pacing issues -- they came out of the gate really strong with a few of their big fast barn burners, then played about 45 minutes' worth of slow ballads. Which pretty much flattened the tires on the whole experience. All that said, I'm glad Catherine and I went. And that we totally hung out* with Bjork afterwards at Cashions.

Haven't been to any shows so far this week, but Thursday night I'm seeing Nouvelle Vague at the French Embassy (!!!), and next week, Fort Reno starts!


*Here, the term "hung out" is defined as sitting at a bar about 20 feet away from the table she and her friends were having dinner at.