statistics show, overwhelmingly, that you SUCK

I'm a brunette! Yes, that's right folks - Moe has altered science and nature yet again and has come out a brunette (with blonde skunky stripes in front). It's very fun, I must say.

Happy memorial day.

The district was fine, fine, fine this past weekend. It was nice to see familiar faces again and trip about my old stomping grounds. Part of this included turning my hair a new color.

I had brunch with Jeremy on Saturday morning at Eastern Market. I feel like everyone in DC is perpetually having brunch (dahling). It's crazy, but that's just what you do in DC on the weekends. You have brunch. And if you can't seem to beat off all the brunch invitations even with a rather large and obtrusive stick, you might end up eating brunch numerous times both Saturday and Sunday. This is fine, just be certain to order the never-ending mimosa at each stop and you won't even remember if you had pleasant or unpleasant interactions with each of your brunch dates. In fact, you might not recall brunch at all. Depending how long or arduous your Friday night out was, this might be best.

I'm scraping wallpaper glue off of my walls right now and the chemicals are making me slightly retarded. It's sort of good, but not quite. I mean, the buzz could be phenomenal if not for the fact that I can no longer breathe and feel as though I might asphyxiate myself in the process. I did make a rather groovy discovery in the meantime, however, and that is that these walls, many moons ago (probably 25 years or more) were painted yellow. Still are, I suppose - just under all the layers of spackle and wallpaper. I've only gotten one wall scraped and i've been doing it all day. And that wall is the one featuring the doorway and the closet - so I can see how long it's going to take me to do the rest of this bedroom. Approximately 728 years or so. How many dog years is that?

Speaking of designer shoes: I got a killer pair of heels for the wedding this weekend. Hoo-Rah. I'll be that girl with a short skirt and a looooooong jacket.

I wish I had an MG to trade for a white Chrysler LeBaron.

I'm back to glue-scraping and asphyxiation. I know it seems like the stereo-typical Memorial Day activity, but I thrive on being terribly cliche, what can I say?