in the red

Not much doin' this weekend. I've been in a little funk lately, but nothing a little sulking, drunk-dialing, Food Network watching with Drone, and speed reading (i.e., active procrastination) couldn't fix. I did happen upon a certain Blogebrity, however...

Based on a very cursory perusal of her blog, which is all I could ever stomach, I deduced a while ago that Stephanie Klein lives very close to me. On my way back from Love's Drugstore to buy Hanes underwear since the washing machines in my building are broken and the landlord refuses to fix them because it's going co-op in a month and therefore no longer his concern, I brushed by Stephanie coming out of the building across the street from mine. Naturally, I did a nice long double take, and I would comment here on the surprising magnitude of her ass, but that would be juvenile and mean and evidence of my seething jealousy of her $500,000 book deal and luscious copper curls. On a side note, what's up with the sizing of mass produced women's underpants? I was forced to get a package of brightly colored undies in polka dot, paisley, and polka dot AND paisley patterns because that was all they had in my size, which is the smallest size available. Now I'm no Stephanie Klein, but in no universe should I be the smallest size in anything.

Lest you think my heart is made of steel, I'd like to point out how much I love my lil' sis. She went to a party recently dressed up like a fairy (I do not know why) and then made out with a boy who looks like Jesus (her college is just a TAD on the hippie side) who told her she's "spectacular." Rock on, sis.