sausage and ponies

The weekend is so close I can almost taste the beer and various grilled meats. I'll be spending it on the island of Manhattan, which, save for a couple trips to Brooklyn, I haven't left in months. This makes me sad, but at least for a whopping 3.5 days I will be free from balding middle-aged white dudes who call each other "brother" with a straight face.

Also, I just found this link and thought I'd take yesterday's nostalgia kick back a few more notches. As a kid I was a bit of a tomboy--never wore dresses (except the plaid jumpers I was forced to wear to school every day,) played lots of sports, and most definitely was not a Barbie girl, nor in a Barbie world. But I fucking LOVED these things. My favorite was made out of orange glittery plastic, and my mom bought it for me at ShopKo after I got my blood drawn for the first time and only kicked ONE of the four nurses brought in to hold me down.