Everytime you hear the "high school"
metaphor, everybody take a drink
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(l) carbs, glorious carbs; (r) cellmates
Everyone not from the south, upon encountering the potato casserole on the breakfast buffet:
"What is that? Oh my god, are those cornflakes on top??"
Blogher Day 2. I can't write coherently in the middle of all the goings-on, so I won't even try. This is when twitter starts to look attractive. If I had an account, I would post things like:
Bill Murray just walked into Follia. I wonder if he would mind waiting to eat until I can remind him all the movies he's been in.
Somehow, Jen Lemen already knows all the wait staff by name and country of origin.
In this crowd, using my Kodak Easyshare feels like the digital camera equivalent of wearing Mom jeans.
I'm thirty eight years old. Why are we still talking about high school?
Leah is lovely.
The girls from sk-rt ditto.
Oops, Tracey, Myriam, Jen and I just crashed the Real Simple party. An invited blogger wrinkles her cute little nose at me. Oh, it is like high school.
Having a great time. More to come. No headache today.
Labels: streaking the quad
—Kyran, 9:23 AM
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3 Comments:
I've read one post and I'm already a fan. Your writing is terrific. I can't wait to check out your GH articles and every post you've written.
Still on a high-note from the great dinner last night. Via Samba Sushi!
Oh, we Real Simple crashers far out numbered the non crashers!! That made it seem so naughty...like high school...but the bad kids!
LOVED meeting you. You are all that and more!
Stay sweet! Oh wait! That is SO a high school yearbook reference! ;-)
Jenn, you can crash this party any old time. Great to see you!
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