The D.C. area was hit with a helluva thunderstorm last night, which good news! It's only going to be 90 degrees today! And there's almost no humidity!
Bad news! It knocked out the power at my office, and while everything essential for actually working has been restored, the elevators are still on the fritz. Which means I...just...climbed...up...stairs...so...many...(gasp)...stairs ...(dies).
Granted, I live on the third floor of a walk-up building, but usually Jason is with me and is willing to put his hands on my ass and give me a boost up each flight. My coworkers were surprisingly unwilling to offer me such assistance.
(HA! ASSistance. GEDDIT?)
(Oh, shut up, I just climbed up four flights of stairs.)
(Here, look at some random pictures. Am all busy today and stuff.)
This is Ceiba, playing our favorite game of "Wave Hands Wildly In Front Of Dog And Watch Her Respond In An Amusingly Manic Fashion." I'd explain the rules of this game to you, but they're really, really complicated.
We always let her win. I mean, wouldn't you?
And this is me, last Sunday, when I excitedly made Jason take a full-frontal photo, because "you totally cannot tell I'm pregnant from the front in this dress!"
I was mistaken. I can see that now.
I also see that I really have no business wearing this dress in the first place.
I was all dressed up and such for a night out with a whole slew of delightful folks from this message board, which is all about food and restaurants and I am way too intimidated by everyone to ever post anything. But Jason does, so I tagged along with him and all the other Internet nerds who are now our people. (They all know who I am, if only because Jason uses this photo as his avatar.)
(T-shirt by bmh, in a much-belated shout-out.)
These people eat weird things, like veal sweetbreads and eyeballs and such. They know about wine and cheese and exactly which street vendor sells the best half-smokes and which restaurant currently serves the best prosciutto. They get very het up about the myth of the unpasteurized cheese. ("It's bullshit! BULLLLSHIT!") And they all wanted to know what foods I've been craving.
I briefly thought of lying and saying something like, "I simply cannot get enough of the cauliflower panna cotta with caviar and black truffle that they serve as the amuse course at Komi, which honestly, serves up SUCH a refreshing take on New American cuisine, don't you agree?"
Just to, you know, not sound like an idiot. Which is exactly what I sounded like when I answered truthfully and said I wanted pudding and Slim Jims.
Of course, I did meet one Amalah.com fan. That's her hand, and that's the kind of animated and intelligent-looking reaction you'll get from me should you ever bump into me on the street. Or in a restaurant. Where I will sit like a fat, pregnant lump.
Amalah.com Reader's Hand: I read your site! It's great!
Amalah's Fat, Lumpy Self: I apologize for subjecting you to the cleavage. I was not aware of the cleavage factor when I left the house.
Amalah.com Reader's Hand: I'm going back to my end of the table now, I think.
(Can I tell you, while I was in Photoshop blurrifying faces, just how tempted I was to give myself a nice, non-flabby arm?)
In other news, I was really excited when the following mysteriously appeared in my office restroom.
Free tampons! In multipack sizes! There for the taking! Impudently placed directly under the tampon dispenser, as if to say, "Fuck you, Tampon Dispenser! Your quarter-eating days are OVER! Free tampons for everyone! Up with the proletariat!"
But then I remembered that I have no use for free tampons right now, and I'm wondering: Is this box a one-time event? Can I take its presence as a promise of more free tampons to come? Or will the Reign of the Non-Dispensing Tampon Dispenser one day return?
I'm thinking, either way, of taking a couple tampons now and saving them for later. Just for the sake of fairness.