LOL

We’ve begun our collection of animal head gear for Adam’s new niece (because all children should have embarrassing photos held against them at some point).  Our first acquisition was purchased today at the London Zoo.  Right now she’s more likely to fit inside of it rather than wearing it on her head, but at least she has something to look forward to.  Good thing I’m not easily embarrassed or this could actually work in the reserve.

I had a housewarming party last year that turned into a friend appreciation party.  I told my guests that I brought them together to thank them for their support through my move and a rough life transition.  Then I gave them the chance to do the same thing for some of their friends via photo message.  I set up a tripod, camera, and lights in front of my favorite blue chair.  On the coffee table in front of the chair was a stack of blank paper and Sharpie markers.  They could write an “I’m-thinking-of-you-note” to anyone. That night I posted the photos to my flickr account and sent my guests the link so they could forward their message to the recipient.

I got a little carried away and sent the joking message above to residents I was an RA for my junior year of college (yeah, we’re still BFF).

I was expecting some sort of comical response, but not what I got: a care package showed up on my doorstep soon after the party.  The contents consisted of a box of brownie mix and the reply photo message above.  I later found out that the girlfriend of the guy on the right willing wrote my name on his ass.  That’s true love.

The bare-bottom-duo now grace my fridge’s collage-style wall of fame/shame.  It is a frequent source of smiles and spurts of laughter.

It was kind of eerie to have leftover fortune cookies from Cafe Mimosa after it burned (I literally ordered carryout 2 days before my beloved “Egg Roll Machine” went up in flames).  I was hanging on to the sweet little mementos as a sentimental reminder until the fruit bowl they were in began to look like a compost pile (3 fortune cookies, 2 potatoes beginning to grow roots and a couple pieces of over-ripe fruit).  The bowl was purged and the tidbits of cheesy-superstitious-goodness were undressed from their cookie shells.  And voila!  I’m at least comforted by the fact my last interaction with Cafe Mimosa (hopefully I can later say “the original Cafe Mimosa”) gave me a sincere belly laugh.

Whatcha goin’ do with that one “Fortune Cookies Guide My Life?”