Kamran: I got salad, but I got too much.
1.5 lbs worth.
Defeats the healthy point a little.
me: Dang!
Kamran: I know, right?
me: Well, you’re a growing boy.
Kamran: Yea. I’m growing a strong gravitational field with all the mass I’m accumulating.
me: You keep pulling me into you.
Kamran: I got you in my orbit.
me: Along with a bunch of dust and metal.
Kamran: You’re my favorite orbital debris.
I was actually in a non-salty mood for the first Friday in ages, so I convinced some of my ladyfriends (and Steven) to go out for another round of karaoke to make up for our last sad, sad display. This time we went back to our usual spot, Sing-Sing Karaoke, which was introduced to us by Emily ages ago and which I’m going to argue is the best karaoke in New York City in terms of song offerings and awesomeness of facilities, though their private rooms get snatched up too quickly because of how great they are.
We went straight from work, which meant that we were the first ones there and got to take advantage of their $5 per person/hour private room happy hour rate and half-priced drinks. The drinks being the reason you will not see any photos of me in the following collection.
The drinks also being the reason Steven looks like he’s soooooooo into this beautiful ballad until you notice that the words on the screen are “till you holler for more”:
and the reason Jessica looks like she’s never enjoyed a tortilla chip from Chipotle more than she’s enjoying this one:
and the reason Melvin has five chins:
and the reason Jenny and Jessica actually sang a song without being threatened into it (and why Jenny may be throwing up here):
and the reason Emily is singing “867-5309/Jenny” for the second time that night in honor of Jenny with her hand in her crotch:
Okay, no, I’m kidding; we each had, like, one drink. But there’s really no other explanation for this stuff.
I mean, not to be creepy or anything, but OMG, photos of Anoop as a baby:
I mean, not as cute as my actual boyfriend (as opposed to Anoop, who is merely my future boyfriend)
but still.
And also, while I realize that Anoop looks really awkward in this way-too-cool jacket that he’d obviously never choose for himself, I still think he was totally NOT bad last night:
However, Adam Lambert was the clear winner:
AM I RIGHT?
My Iranian (pronounced ih-RON-ee-an) boyfriend informs me that tonight is the Persian festival Chaharshanbe Suri! YES! My absolute favourite Persian holiday!!!
No, I didn’t know what it was, either, so Kamran sent me the Wikipedia link, and here’s the best part:
The tradition includes people going into the streets and alleys to make fires, and jump over them while singing the traditional song, Sorkhi-ye to az man; Zardi-ye man az to. The literal translation is, Your fiery red color is mine, and my sickly yellow paleness is yours.
This is a face that’s never seen yellow paleness, am I right?
This past weekend, I brought home treats from the co-best cupcake shop in the world, Crumbs Bake Shop. (I say co-best, because while Magnolia cupcakes are widely regarded as the most intensely wonderful foodstuff to ever be whipped up in a bowl, Crumbs’ certainly have their own charm.) Kamran and I consumed each of the following by cutting them in half, because there was absolutely no way either of us could go on living without tasting all of them:
Yet today, two people have told me that I look thinner. Even though it’s obviously a total misperception, it’s excellent to hear, since I now have exactly ten days before I need to have lost all five inches to fit into this dress for my best friend, Tracey’s wedding:
Not this dress exactly, though, you know. Mine is black. And still a larger size, despite the five inches. But don’t you just love to watch her swing* around like that? What a great job, right? Put on a pretty dress, fake a smile, and dance around a little.
Which is exactly what I’ll be doing at Tracey’s wedding next week.
Kidding!
*If she doesn’t swing for you, right-click on her and press Play. You won’t regret it.
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