midsummer night's dream

"Do... crawfish grow up to be lobsters?" -my brother

Just got back from LA and Las Vegas. Was pretty uneventful... it consisted of the usual shopping (mother woke us up at 7 so we could start shopping at 9 until closing hours--"we only have seven days!" she cried) and the usual overeating (we had kangaroo, lobster, rabbit, mangosteen, longans, the most amazing scallop ceviche, et al) and overheating. The weather in Cali was divine, but I've never felt more like a human roast than I did in the middle of the Las Vegas strip. Didn't get the chance to see many people, but I did visit the Getty on the most perfect of days. All-in-all, it was a lovely vacation, mildly-paced and simple.

I'm at a standstill--and I know I'm at a standstill because all my clothes are looking the same. My summer shoes have fallen into the rut of "singular category"--gladiator sandals (god forbid I wear regular flip flops) and all my shirts are crisp and buttoned. I wish it was autumn already; I was never creative/inspired in this humidity. Why care about style when the idea of going outside sounds about as delicious as dill-flavored blood pudding covered in peanuts?

Also, on the note of summer, I've always hated tans, the skin color of choice for plebes. I wonder where the obsession comes from. Most people who tan don't look like they've come back from the Mediterranean; most people who tan look like they've come back from combing over rice paddies. If you wanna go for the total pedestrian look, why not go for calloused hands? So much more character, and less assaulting to the eyes. Not that I'm saying whiter is better, but most people should just stick to their natural coloring.

I really need to update more. All the interesting things never get blogged. In fact, I never blog until I'm dead bored.

Also, I got a haircut!

Love,
Liz