Dear Taylor Swift,

I really hope you didn’t whip off your purity ring as well as all your clothes for one John Mayer, like they are speculating over on Jezebel. That seems like bad decision-making of catastrophic proportions, even for someone as categorically insipid as you. At the very least, I hope he didn’t give you gonorrhea. You have my pity, and I wish you better sense in your future romantic endeavors.

Dear John Mayer,

I don’t know how long I can keep defending you, sir. I’m like that lady at Obama’s town meeting. What am I supposed to tell people now? It’s like you defiled Funshine Bear. And yes, all she  had to do was glance at a single back issue of US Weekly to see that you’re not the type to drop to the ground, pull out a ring, and say marry me, Juliet; still, you and I both know she’s not the kind of girl to do her research. Poor form, JM. Poor form.

Topsfield, MA, October 2010

“I’m tired of working for candidates who make me think that I should be embarrassed to believe what I believe, Sam. I’m tired of getting them elected. We all need some therapy, because somebody came along and said ‘liberal’ means soft on crime, soft on drugs, soft on Communism, soft on defense, and we’re gonna tax you back to the Stone Age because people shouldn’t have to go to work if they don’t want to!” And instead of saying, “Well, excuse me, you right-wing, reactionary, xenophobic, homophobic, anti-education, anti-choice, pro-gun, Leave It To Beaver trip back to the Fifties…!”, we cowered in the corner, and said, “Please. Don’t. Hurt. Me.” No more. I really don’t care who’s right, who’s wrong. We’re both right. We’re both wrong. Let’s have two parties, huh? What do you say?”

(The West Wing)

Later I really am going to post some pictures of the Topsfield Fair.

“Life is short.  You normally eat three times a day, you probably cook a lot of meals in your life and sit there clanking around and taking lumps of your body off and like just being slow and rubbish.  Not good.”

(Jamie Oliver, on why it is important to have basic knife skills)

i like that it is cold outside and i have a big cup of coffee

1. The odd bite of parsnip in my chicken and barley soup

2. Courtney Cox and David Arquette being separated

3. How tight my jeans have become

4. That Marissa doesn’t think Baby and Johnny make it after the movie ends because they don’t have enough in common (ONLY THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER, MARISSA, God.)

5. It costs $419 to fly to New York. $419!  That is $15.52 PER MINUTE.

Obviously these crises demand my immediate attention. Back tomorrow with pictures of the fair.

1. Oh HEY it’s a long weekend, and we are going to wring it out for all it is worth. A partial agenda: boot shopping, tourteau de chevre, a manicure/pedicure, drastic novel reconstruction, and the Topsfield Fair. Amy says maybe they have a bearded lady!

2. I was feeling like a really good girlfriend last night because I came home with a bagful of marshmallow pumpkins for Tom, except that when I walked in the door he was like “Oh here, I got you this watch because you got promoted at work.”  Which, I mean, I sort of did, but it wasn’t really a big deal, and definitely not the kind of thing that required a (badass, super cool, I cannot wait to wear it) congratulatory timepiece. (PS: Mike, if you’re reading this, I know you like stories about Tom being mushy, so consider this an engagement gift from me to you. Sorry that weird Boston water got you again last weekend.)

3. Last night was Italian Stallion Jersey Shore night at H&J’s, which meant lasagna, garlic bread, and two glorious hours of DJ Pauly D. I made Ina’s plum crunch with apples and pears which, while not Italian, was delicious with a giant ice cream mountain on top.

4. Taylor is reading this blog! Taylor and I were RAs together in college and I had a big girl crush on her because she was funny as shit and had great hair. She taught me about rolling down the hall in a laundry cart, only one of many small residence hall pleasures. Now she lives in LA and is fancy. What up, Taylor. I’m glad you’re here.

5. Jezebel says Dirty Dancing is the Greatest Movie of All Time, and any idiot knows you don’t argue with Jezebel.

Number three on the list: Make a souffle. Thanks, M.

i spent a lot of my time at emerson wanting to punch people in their faces. i forget that i also spent a lot of time wanting to give people hugs.

1. google docs: prologue to the novel

2. answers.com : “Is Rahm Emmanuel missing a finger?” (answer: yes.)

3. youtube: Jesse McCartney, Shake