The big two five.

I celebrated with friends; we ate fancy pizzas topped with boar, another with pancetta and scallops, a thai prawn and a fajita one thrown in and we drank and drank wine and spooned at free ice cream with gooseberries.

And that was enough; I was happy and laughing, but I got this too. I'm spoiled as 25-year-old milk.


My birthday lake.


One of many birthday G&T's.


My birthday yard.


My birthday slugs in my birthday yard.


My birthday love.







And finally, my birthday swan lake. I didn't know the camera recorded with sound. If you don't want your ears to melt off your head, I would turn your sound off.

You know what I am?

I am on episode 21. Of season 1. Of the OC.

You know what I am not?

Proud. Efficient. Outside.

But seriously. I love Seth and Summer. I love Ryan's corner-eye glances and the way Sandy eat bagels all day. I love Tate Donovan's forehead wrinkles. I love Misha Barton's acting skills and the way she says, "whaaat's wrong?" like English is her 9th language. Why why why am I so late?

And P.S. Sean's on episode 15. My love thrives, affirmed and healthy! And I know he's only pretending to hate that I sing the theme song at the top of my lungs when? Not only at the beginning of the show, but also when we are cooking breakfast in the mornings, walking to the store, playing frisbee or when he's saying sweet things to me. I also know that Sean got jealous when I praised Seth's wit; he said, "Really though? I mean, sure, the writers give him funny things to say, but it's not like he's THAT hilarious or quick...I mean other people, like, if you wanted to use me as an example, for instance, are quick and witty without writers, right?" Oh it's just like the episode where Seth is jealous of Summer's new boyfriend and how she thinks he's so funny.

ah da na na na na da na na na na da na na na na na na California here we come right back we started from...
CALIFORNIAAAAAA, CALIFORNIAAAA, HERE WE COOOOOME.

The lost Bloomsday pictures

Some more deferred pleasure. Only for me and like 3 other people, though.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, B!

This funny, awesome lady was born 18 years ago today.


Unless you're a guy checking out her school picture on my bulletin board, in which case she is still a mature-looking 12.

Bloomsday

Ulysses is all about deferred pleasure, so it makes sense that this post is 5 days late, right? Actually, the soundness of this rationalization rests on the assumption that pictures of nerds romping around in celebration of Ulysses will please you. It may not and you may give up and x out of the page as this is a long post. Unduly long. A journey, one might say. Of great mental strength. I'm just saying, there are comparisons...

Our Ithacan day:

Should we celebrate this man?

All the time. Every day. By making up new words and thinking revolutionarily, making people laugh and feeling sensitive towards underdogs.


If Jess and Gid were at the door of 7 Eccles street, what would they do?

Pose, show each other their underwear, drink, joke about poop and stick their fingers in the mail slot imagining letters.


What is Jessica's philosophy on picture taking?


That following every posed shot of faces smiling to a camera should come another blatantly posed shot of faces looking into the distance.


Are Sean and Alicia deep thinkers?

Obviously.


Does John envy me my main squeeze?

Who doesn't?
Nobody.


Did Senator David Norris hug me and call me wild and Irish?

You bet your fancy ass he did.


Did Alicia say that the Molly's from last year were better, or at least that they didn't look like they were actually around on June 16, 1904?

She did, that funny lady.


Does Alicia like Ulysses?

Sure looks like it.


Does Marilyn Monroe?

Of course. Sexy things belong together.


How could one describe this Bloom's body language?

Theatrical.

Perfect.

Amusing, enviable.

If Jess could give Joyce a gift to thank him for all he's done, one that would move him, one that would show him she's for real, in love, limitless, what would it be?

It's true.

Moriah.

We walked the Wicklow Way and mused philosophical musings, for example, how much does your knee hurt? And also, my toenail is coming off as we speak. Then the things we saw and imagined behind the fog (Mo's suggestion) took our minds off the pain.









We drank beer and celebrated Irish writers until Mo passed out on the rug of the Writers' Museum.







Aaand we waited for buses,


visited castles,


got embarrassed,


took a moment from talking our quadrillion words for a picture.


And now I miss her again like I always do.

Tonight, great things happened. I went out to eat with friends and we had the entire Georgian restaurant to ourselves.

Then we heard our friend Jeremy play the piano while a soprano sang along to songs from Joyce's work

Then this man hugged me and called me a wild Irish lass.

And now, I will wake up in about 4 hours to get one of my very favorite people from the airport.

This is my hundred and one.

This blog is about 10 days away from being a year old and I just passed my 100 post mark. I'd like to commemorate with a favorites list.

Favorites list June 3-10, 2007
1. Sean and me playing each other our favorite songs circa age 6- his, "Born in the USA" and "Johnny 99" by Springsteen, mine, "The Nights the Lights Went out in Georgia" by Vicki Lawrence and "Roll on" by Alabama.
2. Leslie Mann's performance in Knocked Up. She is my living Madeleine Khan.
3. Mangetout and hummus.
4. James is gone. No more grunting/ yelling/ howling/ singing/ tin whistles.
5. Frisbee
6. 2 euro white sunglasses from an old hardware store
7. My paper. It's almost finished!
8. My paper-writing softest fleece. Ridiculous, yes, but also inspirational.
9. The Dettol that's kept me from getting Sean's sickness. Also, it says right on the back that it kills Rhinovirus...so in case I wake up from a coma (a la 28 weeks) and everyone has turned into a rhino, this shit is my savior.
10. The picture Sean took of the last 4 favorites from this list.



Back to work.