Archive for August, 2009

So You Didn’t Go To Outside Lands…

Posted in i want this, in case you missed it, outside lands, San Francisco with tags , , , , , , , , on August 31, 2009 by thedith
In the weeks leading up to Outside Lands, the annual three-day music festival that takes place in Golden Gate Park, no one — and I mean no one was going.  The line-up sucks: Black Eyed Peas*? Jason Mraz?  It’s not worth it, dude. Then, somehow, surprisingly, merely days before Outside Lands, everyone — and I mean everyone (at least according to my text message inbox) — was going.  It’s gonna be so tight, dude! MIA, Pearl Jam, Dave Matthews, TV on the Radio, Mars Volta! Amazing line-up! Whatever, everyone.  Especially a certain co-worker who got to leave work early on Sunday just to make it over to Golden Gate Park (see: I am jealous).

I didn’t go to Outside Lands, but that’s not going to stop me from writing a post about it.

Outside Lands Presents: Things I Want

Giant flat-screen tv that plays nothing but trippy light/pattern displays all day

Giant flat-screen tv that plays nothing but trippy light/pattern displays all day

This feather headband

This feather headband

Conor Oberst

Conor Oberst

Tiger face sequin dress

Cheeta face sequin dress

All pictures via [SFist] and [Gawker]

*Okay, I secretly love this song

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Trip Down Memory Awesome

Posted in awesome, youtube with tags , , , on August 30, 2009 by melsanie

Need a Friday Pick Me Up?

Posted in awesome, hey it's friday, music with tags , , , , on August 28, 2009 by thedith

You’re welcome.

Is It Weird that I Kind of Want This?

Posted in awesome, extremely creepy, i want this, really?, servicey, Uncategorized, what the eff? with tags , , , , , , on August 28, 2009 by thedith

From the people who brought you The Boyfriend Pillow (well, actually, I don’t know if that’s true…) comes, The Girlfriend Lap Pillow!

Lifetime supply of social awkwardness and membership to the Masturbation is the Best I’m Ever Going to Get club included.

A Good Boyfriend Tattoos Your Name on His Back

Posted in gchat gangstas with tags , , , on August 28, 2009 by thedith

Melanie: ok it’s time for bed it’s 115

Meredith: noooooooooo

Melanie: mama’s gotta get her beauty slep

*sleep

Meredith: FINE.

that’s another thing: a good boyfriend would stay up with you too add that to the list

Melanie: it’s true and then he’d fall asleep on your lap

*in

and you’d look at him

Meredith: and shove him off?

Melanie: and be all “awww”

Meredith: oh.

or that.

The Faces (Haven’t) Changed, But the Hassles Are All the Same

Posted in adventures in life, work with tags , , , , , , , , on August 27, 2009 by thedith

So, how’d my first day back in the 9-5’er (uh, well, sort of…I start at 10…) world go? Well, I arrived at the office about 10 minutes early, and instead of going in, I waited outside across the street for eight minutes until 9:58.  This would make the first hour not drag out so long, I reasoned. This is called: false.

By 11 o’clock I had to sing Cyndi Lauper songs in my head to keep myself from falling asleep.

At noon, I wanted to chainsmoke a pack of Marlboro Reds so bad, I didn’t even care that I don’t even really smoke.

Around 2 o’clock I became homicidal.

And at 3 o’clock I hid in the bathroom for ten minutes to resist the urge to throw myself out the window.

But then, I listened to the following Kings of Leon song on the walk home.

Through the throngs of harried women in sweaty work dresses, and corpulent businessmen in wrinkled suits, my ipod offered me salvation from the soul crushing corporate world at last.

Okay.  Fine, I’m working for a non-profit — not a big corporation. And, this was only day one.  I have got to stop being a baby. I mean, if Brett Favre can pull himself out of retirement (twice!) from his out of shape boot straps, the least I can do is go join the rest of society and work in an office.  I mean, hello, Meredith, that’s what you were doing before the ol’ resesh came a-knockin’ on your door…Two months out of the game is a long time though…  Maybe I should just drop out of soceity, and abandon the idea of an office job all together. I’ll become  a Neo-Beat poet and change my name to Juniper Breeze, Satchel Fig-Tree, or Brett Michaels.  Yeah, that sounds nice. Good talk.