I don't give two shakes about fashion, but the Manolo, he is pretty entertaining. He has even me adding "the" before all of my nouns and sighing over Nicole Miller on sale. And he has the good sense as far as the fashions of my childhood go.
Saturday was my lovely hubby's 28th birthday. We had a pirate theme party. I am especially proud of the ship-shape cake I made and Josh decorated. We even had a Pillsbury doughboy pirate for the masthead
Winners for best costume were Alisha and Jay, although Aaron gave them a run for their money as the person with the most piratey-looking natural face.
For those of you who are curious, here are Josh and me in our costumes, and our porch decorated to look like a ship. (A few portals had fallen down and gotten soggy from the sprinklers by the time I took the picture, but you get the idea.)
The Wall Street Journal came out with an article yesterday about pay increases in various job fields. Apparently, economics professors get paid more per year on average than doctors and airline pilots. Yeah, buddy. Bring on the bling bling.
The LA Times printed an interesting article today about the writing of the majority opinion for Roe v Wade:
It is also the story of a sometimes rudderless court led by Chief Justice Warren Burger. On the day the ruling was announced, Burger said, "Plainly, the court today rejects any claim that the Constitution requires abortion on demand."
Does listening to John Roberts in his confirmation hearing make anyone else want to run out and become a lawyer? He makes the law profession seem almost respectable.
That's right, it's time for the pre-holiday months of relaxing and throwing parties at spas with your girlfriends. At least according to Evite's party suggestions. Party on, dude.
I was happily listening to the Beatles, and then, out of the blue, "You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?" Corialanus came on. I guess I should organize some playlists.
I've never been much of a water person. When we go to the beach, I hang out under the beach umbrella, read a bit, get cold, and go home. With our cheap pasty skin and my averson to water, it's no wonder Josh and I hardly ever go to the beach. Or at least hardly went to the beach until last weekend.
My long-, long, long-time friend Vicky and I camped out in Malibu for a few days. We spent mornings hiking and afternoons at the beach. I did my usual routine of dipping in the water a few times and drying off in the sun until some kind souls loaned us some boogie boards. I think I tried a boogie board once in New Jersey a long time ago, but I don't remember it being all that fun. It is. It ranks right up there next to snow-mobiling. (And if you have heard me go on about snow-mobiling, you will know that is saying something.)
I am now the proud owner of two cheap boogie boards and I'm headed to the beach again tomorrow. If only summer hadn't officially ended last weekend.
Here's a photo of Vicky catching a wave.