Awwwww! Thanks so much guys! You are the best friends ever. (Sorry I moved back so soon!). I started to put my gifts away and they were all like "No, no, no. After all the time we spent rounding that stuff up, you're wearing it at the party, CALIFORNIA BOY!"
I'm not sure I handed my camera over to at this point but as you'll be able to see over the next few pics, they managed to grab some clutch snaps. I didn't even know I was capable of making a face like this. (Check out Leigh in the background losing her shit. Hahaha).
When Leigh and I met up with Meredith on the street, she was holding a shopping bag and laughing. Apparently, my birthday present that she'd told me was being "specially made" had finally arrvied and she informed me that she was going to "make me wear it out tonight." Well, Meredith's present turned out to be this uber-classy shirt that says "P is for Pussy" on the front (complete with a picture of the cookie monster doing the internation sign for pussy-eating)...
A litter later in the evening we ran into Evan, Grant's former Nerve intern from years ago who now runs Block Magazine out of Brooklyn. (Whom I totally fucking assassinated with one of the best "get a load of this fucking guy" finger-points in the history of the sport. Hahahahah).
...Karen's 23rd birthday! Wooo! I brought her a six-pack of Sparks to help instigate some birthday trouble (more on that later...hehehe). The day after the party, I took all my pics and posted them into a "sneak peek" gallery for Karen (because she assumed, correctly I might add, that it would be "like six months" before I finally got around to posting them here).
Anyway, somehow a photo editor at Rolling Stone saw this pic and wanted to use it for a blurb about Sparks in an upcoming "What's Hot" issue. I was stoked. A day later, she realized that Sarah is an editor at Spin and apparently didn't want to prominently feature and editor from a competitive magazine doing something "hot." She went back through my pics and found another photo of people drinking Sparks that Sarah wasn't in and asked if she could use that instead. "Well, Sarah's not in that photo, but the problem is: I'm not either." (And hey, I wanted to be doing something "hot" in Rolling Stone, ok?) So I asked her, "What if I can figure out a way to hide Sarah?" She was like "I don't even know what you're talking about." That is, until I sent her...
Speaking of pimping, this lady was walking around the party and people kept coming up to her and kissing her ass. After watching her run shit for like 20 minutes, I finally couldn't take the expense. I walked up to her and told her that I loved her outfit and asked if I could take a pic. She was like "But of course!" Afterwards, I was like, I hope this doesn't offend you, but who are you? She was like "Not at all, darling. I am Zelda. I'm a fashion designer." Does anyone out there know who this lady is? Or did someone's grandma get into some extra fabric and use it to escape a nearby nursing home?
And then we went to some cool park to shoot the shit and catch up. After eating, we only had about ninety minutes to hang out before I had to head to the airport to catch my flight home.
Check out my blinging imitation Oakley Blades. You're wet, aren't you? (PS - Sarah pointed out that my dad looks like the dad from the Family Guy and I haven't been able to look at him without smiling since).
...that's right. The one thing my mom forgot to mention was that all of the ski clothes that they had were purchased at the height of the eighties' fluorescent colors craze. Check us out! (You may need to dim your monitor's brightness setting in order to do so).
Hahaha. Buddy's photographer friend emailed me this pic a few days later. Check me out rocking with a can of beer. I look like a Pabst's commercial. After karaoke I headed over to Lit to see what was shaking.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
