My Everest

Dearest reader, I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first...

The good news, did you say? Well alright then, you're the boss.

On March 21st, I'm marrying this guy:

Yikes! Maybe he isn't making the best impression. Let's try that again...

OK, still a little weird. I guess he's just a little shy of strangers. Let's give him one more try...

Aww, that's better. Say hi to Cameron--you may remember him from such posts as Thanks for your concern, Time Out, and that old favorite Singing Solves Everything, Part Two. Oh, and say hi to Caroline, too (she's just hangin'). So maybe we're a little slouchy, but we're in love and hope you will all see fit to share in our joy despite our poor posture. Now for the bad news...

I have to purchase a wedding dress. THIS IS MY EVEREST. There is so much I could tell you about the many horrors I've been subjected to during my brief foray into the bridal industry---it's cold, it's sheeny (not shiny--shiny is good, sheeny is very very bad), it's self-entitled, and most of all it's overpriced---but as I have come to find there are many, many, MANY blogs dedicated to these subjects alone, I will spare you and instead share the one bright light in the mists. Behold:

I could get married in Alexis Carrington's wedding dress. OMH!

Lovely #5

I wish J-wood would work on this instead of robots that are destined to one day destroy us all (thanks digg)...

Lovely #4

Really, though, I found this while I was doing actual research work. I swear. I am no longer trolling for political web content. Cross my heart.

It's just been raining on my face

Rather than betray how much I cared about today, I offer you a few items of little consequence:

1. I heart Jim Lehrer. For awhile I feared he was going a bit senile, but now I just think he's begun drinking during work hours. Tonight he "dazzled" me with his electoral map (his words) and went on for 45 seconds about Missour-ee vs. Missour-uh.

2. Somebody already stole my "New New Deal" line.

3. Apparently J. Peterman just won a House seat in New York.

Oh, and yes we can.

Thanks for your concern

Dear 63,

No, Cameron and I did not break up. Who could break up with a guy that does this to his birthday pinata?

Besides, in the past week alone we've made seven pumpkin pies, seen Jenny Lewis and Beachwood Sparks, fretted over Halloween costumes, taken two midterms (him), asked for and received a new project at work (me), and gotten all fancy for SF Opera's Idomeneo. In other words, we've been much too busy for drama.

Sometimes girls just cry on the phone with their moms because they miss their old roommate, or they don't like any of their clothes anymore, or they can't find that "old faithful" recipe for Quiche Lorraine. I can't imagine this is all news to a man whose former girlfriend once got mad and locked herself in his dad's pizza place bathroom in the middle of a New Year's Eve party only to blow town in the morning without a word to anyone.

I also, for the record, can't imagine ever announcing a break up over the internet--that's just bad manners.

But thanks for asking. And I promise to set up the voice mail soon.

Hugs and Kisses, Cobb

Time out

You know when you call your Mom on a Saturday afternoon sobbing uncontrollably--to the point of hiccups and shaking--and she puts you on Time Out (always a high point)?

Then you'll also remember how you thought the Time Out was a really good idea so you say to your friends and colleagues all the time, "Sorry, I can't, I'm on Time Out. My mom said." But everyone just thinks it's a joke and so doesn't take it seriously, and after a week goes by where you spent just as little time at home and breathing as the one before, you realize that there really aren't that many things you are at liberty to cut out of your schedule because said friends and colleagues are depending upon you all the time.

And in the end, dear reader, you recall why it was the principle of the thing that mattered. And principles being what they are in this modern age, you'll understand why Time Out was no match for free tickets to fancy seats at a Giants game (still hate 'em...) with Tim Lincecum on the mound (...even though he's like an adorable little elf and their win actually helped the Dodgers).

Nor did Time Out stand a chance against Chihuly or his eye patch at the deYoung.

Mmmmmm. Glossy. Sparkly. Shiny. If I had stuff like that at home, Time Out might be more successful.

I love Rachel & Jorge

Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Jorge and Rachel Ambrocio:

Here you see them sporting the wedding gifts Drew, Alica and I won for them the night before the ceremony when we hit some skee ball in preparation for the big day.

Here you will see some more dignified (yawn) pictures of the event. Actually, they're quite lovely (that's their photographers' blog and, so far, Michael is my favorite of all siblings' weddings' photographers). Welcome Jorge--you're the berries! I hope you can learn to like pinochle and Silverado.