i’ve spent a lot of the day culling through the one hundred photographs i took this weekend. i’m not quite sure how i managed to take so many, seeing as how we left the house a grand total of twice. but i did.
and then i spent three solid hours wrestling the mythical creature that is hand-coding a slideshow. the thing is, i did it. you internet savvistas might not think it’s much to look at, but i’m a talentless hack who’s proud of having figured this out herself. on that note, though, i should probably thank my fellow talentless-hack-who-makes-it-looks-charming, and biscuit for remembering passwords by heart. as well as jason and matt for pointing me to an ftp server and talking me through actually finding simpletext in my computer, respectively. thanks, boys. but do you feel embarassed that the talentless hacks did the majority of the work here?
anyway, the point is, flip through my slideshow. i wrote funny little things. there are no naked pictures, seriously. and i worked my fingers to the code here.

i miss this face already. and i just got home.

i have a new cotton traveling coat. i have pretty underwear on. i have a passport, a ticket, a seat assignment. i have an i-pod on loan, chock-a-block with good tunes. i have a small weekender bag packed with:
two tee shirts
a skirt
one pair of comfy moccasins
one pair of flipflops
my favourite pink robe
a camera
a toothbrush
a gift
a certain very well loved, very well traveled bear.
i have a heart full of love and a weekend full of joy. and i have everything i need.

forty hours. two thousand, four hundred minutes. i will be in stuart’s arms.

you can forgive me if i’m wandering around in impatient happy circles.

note to roommate, currently tacked to door:

note to self, currently tacked to brain: GET A PLUNGER.

everyone that came in through the creaky wooden door looked around, eyes resting on the gathering tribe in the corner, and seemed to let out that post-work sigh of relief. the sigh that says, yes, i am out, i am amongst friends. my real life begins. i took my seat first, having promised to arrive as advance guard. my heady beer, a brooklyn brew with a tangy bite, already was two fingers short of full and half the crossword puzzle was completed.
i was stuck on “boxing matches” when jason sauntered in, raised eyebrows upon seeing me, and sat down with his typical “hey” and a scruffy-cheeked kiss. he nursed a yuengling and we started to chat when the infinitely huggable bertram came in. a face we hadn’t seen in too long. a face we dearly love. the ensuing hug nearly crushed my ribs but it was worth it. it was like he’d gone to the war but was safely home.
anna with her curls and her mona lisa smile slid into the booth, followed by shivlet, back on our side of the atlantic after a brief sojourn in the motherland. her eyes sparkled even more than usual. even tired, it was obvious the vacation had done her well. more generally, life seems to be doing her well. i looked at the growing gather of friends and thought, life is doing us all well. cheers to that.
a frazzled fish seemed the most changed after a few minutes among friends – it’s funny what laughter can do to wipe away the wear of work. two minutes into bertram’s well-told tale about some ukrainian police ethics, and countless yellings of the phrase “touch your… hair” later, her anxious-puppy eyes creased with smiles.
there was luke and dave, rachel and robert, there were stories about rats named templeton and men who may or may be named oswald. the food was discussed, written down, changed three times, haltingly paid for, and finally ordered. we passed around knives and forks, picked at each other’s chips and shepherd’s pie, ordered more beer and wine. we switched seats, made innuendo, laughed more about oswald. i actually admitted to a near-stranger that i’d once been on drill team.
and when it was time to go, i gave everyone kisses. because i know i’ll see them again in a week, but there are never too many times you can show your friends you love them. there are never too many times to thank them for sharing a perfect evening with you. and it was perfect. except for one thing.
we wish you’d been there. yes, you.

don’t get me wrong. i think boy bloggers are just fab. hell, i’m marrying one. but i have a special place in my heart reserved for the sugar-and-spice variety of blogger. the heels. the cupcakes. the gossip. the lip gloss. the laughter.
i’m talking about the girls, yo.
so, women of new york blog variety… a certain fish and this very owl are scheming and plotting for a babe-only blogger bash sometime in early august. no boys allowed.
who’s down?

ahhhh, summer.

last night i:
1. wore wore my magic green shirt and my favourite sparkly gold eyeshadow.
2. told a story about half-naked straight twins dancing at a gay bar that i consider payback for erin always introducing me as “this is krissa, she once dated an openly gay man”.
3. was congratulated heartily on our engagement without the analog suffix of, “wait, you met on the INTERNET?!”
4. was asked if i was wearing underwear. was. proved it.
5. was asked if i wanted to see his self-proclaimed perfect testicles. politely declined. corrollary: i am apparently the first person who’s ever asked if he uses a ball-retainer to keep their perfect shape. i am, apparently, spot-on. SCORE.
6. finally met our witty charming host and was appropriately witted and charmed.
7. loved dahl, deb, bob, stephanie, and daniella. already love fish and ari.
8. was amused by all the underfed dirtyhaired hipster trash that looked with ironic alarm at all the BLATANT FUN we were having.
9. sort of wish brian had made me a crazy funny nametag a la “britney husband #14: back off bitches.”
10. was reminded why i love bloggers.

i’m drinking with the best tonight. are you?
i’ll be the one with the short skirt and the sparkly eyeshadow.