the weekend

I spent the weekend in NYC and NJ. To those who say that NJ is our nation’s armpit I say this: perhaps, if that armpit happens to belong to Brad Pitt who doesn’t sweat or have bodily functions. Newark and Jersey City don’t count friends. They’re both the part of the state we all wish would float off into the sunset. Except then we would not have fishes in the sea because I’m fairly sure Newark would kill them all. So, we keep Newark, as a favor to our great nation. So there.

On my way back, Mary Kate Olsen’s name was called over the loudspeaker to a gate that was IN MY TERMINAL. I have no justification for the thought process that followed other than the fact that I was raised on Full House:

Thought 1: I wonder if she’s still rockin’ that boho-chic look
Thought 2: We’d totally be friends
Thought 3: Maybe I should go investigate
Thought 4: I kind of want to buy her a cheese burger. With bacon.
Thought 5: A burger? I’m such an ass.
Thought 6: You are going to stay put missy. If she wants to travel through Laguardia (seriously the worst airport ever) and dress like a bag lady, that’s her business not yours.

I did not go investigate, or introduce myself to my new best friend or attempt to introduce her to the glories of red meat and calories. Instead I got back to the more important business at hand – catching up on my Harry Potter. And you can feel free to judge me as being a monumental dork based on that last statement. But so far? Loooove it.