My boss, whom just about anyone would describe as a wonderfully gracious and dignified woman, sent this around the office today:

As of this posting she is still experiencing occasional spurts of giggling. I love my workplace.

I got brand new parts this month: bangs, HPV shots, and a new prescription for better vision. Thanks to these adjustments, I am now 1 part robot, 1 part dork, and 10 parts trendy Asian hipster. And, like, $300 poorer. Oh man, how did this happen?

This is the same week that Jess got a very pink blog, too. Something is wrong.

On the other hand, it sure is nice being able to see again. I was walking home from the Fens with my dazzlingly sharp new vision and kept getting distracted by all the distant text I could read. You are going to laugh when you read this but I don’t care: I kept marveling like how the world looked exactly like it had Unsharp Mask applied to it several times in Photoshop. That is exactly what it looked like – all the highlights bouncing off of chrome and leaves and windows looked that much more stark and all the edges seemed crisper, almost a bit “overcrisped.” If I’d done this in Photoshop I would have hit undo because I like things a little soft, except for the part where it was real life and not Photoshop. I kept thinking if I walked close enough to the bright bits around me I would start to see individual pixels. You know what I mean? No? Okay fine.

Anyway being a semi-blind designer peering myopically at  screenfuls of Actionscript kind of… wasn’t good. But now I have a fighting chance against those little colons disguised as semi-colons and periods disguised as semi-periods!

Here is a picture that Yang took of me for you to laugh at. I am showing off my lovely new Tina Fey glasses, Lorem Ipsum shirt from Veer, and… uh, cornbread cookbook.

Because every sexy hipster needs cornbread.

I love weekends like this, where you just kind of go “Hey you wanna drive up to New Hampshire and ride an antique cog train up Mt. Washington?” and then you kidnap the Honda Civic from Yang’s parents and go do it. Except then you don’t ride the antique cog train once you get there because of some timekeeping mishap, but it’s okay. Because there was a lovely walk in the Flume Gorge in the morning and many takings of pictures and delicious mouthfuls of cold mountain air, and loud music in the car both ways. Also, I came very close to finishing an extremely long, extremely skinny, extremely bright green lacey knit scarf.

Anyway, as a result of our unfulfilled mission, we are going again next week. Yes we are. Part of it has to do with the fact that they refuse to give us a refund, but part of it is reveling in the sheer fact that we *can.* I have this distinct feeling that, if we were any other age, and living with any other people, this would have been a “No way, forget it, it’s not worth the effort/time/gas.” But as it were, we are young, unriddled with responsibility (except for grad school applications… ah hah hah hah…), and also slightly giddy with the possibility that we’d get to do something Steven Fry did and thoroughly enjoyed. I’m speaking on Jess’ behalf of course.

So this was basically an awesome Sunday. On days like this, I would just like all of the internets to know just how cool my life is right now, and how possibly it would never be this cool again. So even though we have mice romping through our apartment’s snack supply (a situation hopefully soon remedied with sonic pest repellers), and weird neighbors (some of them birds), and tons of late nights/hard work looming… I’m thankful for this year. So very.

Pictures here.