For real, though, you guys.

Heh @ my inability to start Roc Plan ("RP") yesterday -- instead of hitting the drugstore on my afternoon break, AS and I went to Safeway so I could get an apple, she an Odwalla bar. (Note: I realize that these details aren't critical to your understanding that I failed to buy Roc cream, but a concrete excuse makes me feel better about failing to fulfill my own expectations.) Am I perhaps dragging my heels because I do not want to acknowledge the possibility of crows' feet on my gd face? Might this be the vainest blog on the In-ter-netz?

I've decided that any skirts I buy henceforth must be biking compatible. What makes a skirt biking compatible, you ask? It must be machine washable, cut wide enough to allow for leg motion, and preferably not too short. It must not be made of a fabric easily torn, snagged, or marked with indentations. I realize that this buying strategy markedly limits my potential wardrobe, but it's cool. Biking > pencil skirts, for real. Pencil skirts are the enemy.

This blog is fast becoming a true Chronicle of Consumerism.

Quick!

This'll be a short one. Spent a few hours after work today creaming butter by hand, though Drew said he'd give me an inherited hand mixer and so the days of hand-creaming are drawing to a close. Baked a belated birthday cake for Hook, complete with candles(!) The cake was a traditional "golden" cake (a la Mark Bittman) with Meyer lemon buttercream frosting. It turned out pretty well, though the frosting could have been a little stiffer. (That's what she said.)

God, I've just consumed so much butter, confectioner's sugar, and Tecate. We are sitting on the couch like a couple of old folks, listening to the Glands; my sugar rush is finally wearing off.

Thank god tomorrow's Wednesday, right? This weekend holds in store a trip to Berkeley, a trip to the Bi-Rite Creamery, and maybe a trip to Amoeba. Maybe also a trip to American Apparel: I need some sheerish v-necks.