A Girl...

Filler

First, let's all take a moment to remember just how scrumptious Colin Meloy is (last three paragraphs of the entry). Isn't he just, though? (I KNOW.) I saw him perform solo on Friday night and he was all awkward and unbrushed and verbally bumbly and he sang a new song about his unborn baby and oh man I wanna plant a kiss on his forehead and tuck him in at night he's so cute!

Other things of note: Simon had a splendid birthday weekend and I documented it all, duh, but I don't have my camera cord with me today, so you'll have to wait until tomorrow, at which point I will download images and write up boring little captions that never ever do anything justice.

One detail I will share with you now, though, is that after splitting the split of fine birthday champagne, we--on the beat after "three"--hurled our used champagne flutes into the fireplace, where they shattered against the red brick. Apparently this is something rich people do in the movies a lot--conspicuous consumption and somesuch. It was a pretty cool idea and even more fun in practice, although now that I think about it I should have put on my faux fur hat and clip-on costume earrings in place of the ballcap and tennis shoes. Next time.