Ida
Tales of Brave Ida
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Steve Martin
Shopgirl |
H2O pear lotion
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noumenal
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A purple easy-bake-oven purse from Laine. The only thing that could top it would be the easy-bake-oven
itself. I love that I seem to be the most random person to buy gifts for... because opening them becomes the most
delightful surprise.
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The gym today after a bit of a hiatus. My body ached and my mind raced and the to-do pile on my desk
grew taller and taller... and yet I still found a way to get in 40 minutes on the elliptical trainer. If nothing else, my psyche
is better for it.
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After a week in Florida, Todd was catching up with whirlygirl on Monday to find that I was another
good friend of his-- in addition to Nina, with whom Todd thinks I share a brain-- with a crush on Apolo
Anton Ohno. So he emailed Nina and I a lame list of reasons he thinks Apolo is evil. Nina wasn't having any of it...
and I have to say, I'm right with her. I wrote, "You are SO overcompensating for your own lack of
coolness and soulpatchiness and antigravityness that you have to make pathetic stabs at our man, Apolo. Dude,
don't go there."
Some ground is sacred. Even for Todd.
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I saw an interview with Donald Trump tonight from the penthouse in his new 90-story high rise near the
United Nations. Even more perplexing than the five-bedroom penthouse's 15 million dollar price tag is Donald's quasi Ken-doll
comb-over hairdo. And even more bizarre... why does this atrocity of a couture faux pas not get more press?
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"Brown." Dad and I took a liking to UPS commercial tag lines and used Brown as the punch line
of nearly every joke, every action, every responsibility.
"Kris, are you ever going to pick your shoes up from the middle of the living room floor?"
"Actually I was just talking to Brown about that, and he doesn't think it's such a good idea."
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plane tickets... check;
agreement with boss to work remotely from Houston for a week... check;
Harry Potter-like summer countdown calendar to cross days off of with big red Xs... tomorrow.
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