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Back in the saddle again

Now that I am back in my lovely summer cottage I can really appreciate summetime with late night campfires, laying out, and of course planting my ass on the couch and watching exorbitant amounts of television by way of every other medium besides television. Thank god Americans and really people the world over can watch practically any television show at any time they damn well please. Of course this has led to a series of unfortunate events for me, unfortunate because I am no longer spending my time outside enjoying the beautiful weather. Television on my demand has made me into a constantly eating, mostly motionless, pale blob of undergraduate unproductiveness which is not even a word. See? I'm even starting to forget how to write in correct English.

This is good. I am going to find the good in this. It might take sometime. But at least it gives me something to do until my next dvd from Netflix.com arrives in the mail.

Dishes of "Jessica Alba's Enchiladas" made by Meggie: 1
Triumphant returns of friends from across-the-pond-studies: 2
Realizations: I am a dreamer. (As opposed to being a Do-er or Be-er)

The rainbow connection

Finally ordered the camelbak water bottle I had been wishing I had so I could drink out of it. As opposed to .. I don't know peeing into it? Anyways it only took me about 20 min to decide between whether I wanted the "fire" or "ocean" colored bottle. I chose ocean. I figured it was more suiting since it will serve to hold my water and the ocean is in someways just mother earth's gigantic water bottle which she doesn't really clean and has a lot of things besides water hanging around in it... Perhaps if I was going to use it to pee in I would go with fire, because it's a similar color. To pee I mean. Right - so - new topic!

Since I'm back on old stomping ground while at Springboard NYC in west side/theater district/midtown, I have run into two people I worked with last summer and made a visit to The Irish Rogue- the favorite "lets get drinks with people we work with" bar. Luckily middle-aged creepy men were not trying to crash the party and make all the women feel horribly uncomfortable this time. Although I did manage to play a game of pool. It's great being 21, because there's not the "are they gonna card me?" anxiety even though they'll probably never card you at the Irish Rogue which is part of it's charm.

Another thing, which the neighbor living above the bar probably didn't find so charming was a surprise appearance by moi on their fire escape, exploring the bar's terrace area which was decoratively lined with barbed wire. I of course just acted like we were acquaintances running into each other at the local farmers market. How was I suppose to know after a drink or two not to creepily make my way up the side of the building a la the bar/terrace/fire escape and speak with some guy through his bedroom window with his shirt unbuttoned?

And now it is sleepy time.