‘The Channel Islands National Park is one of the least visited of all our national parks, incidentally, for the very simple reason that you have to lean over the rail of a boat and vomit for an hour just to get there.
Despite the drawbacks, I persisted, and have visited Santa Cruz (which is four times the size of Manhattan) several times now. One of the joys of what I do is that whenever anything interests me I can study it, examine it, absorb all the stories surrounding it and create one of my own.’
- T.C. Boyle, excerpt from ‘Nature Boy’
(Smithsonian Magazine, February 2011)
For no good reason I’ve decided to classify the seven most common types of drunkeness:
Day Drunk - This is the type of drunk that leads to you going to a matinee of The Three Stooges movie.
Business Drunk - As documented by 30 Rock: It involves scotch, sales projections, and balding middle…
I feel guilty posting this sober, I really do.
![tesslynch:
yipster:
[Bridget completes a VERY DEMANDING craft project, left. Tess reads a recipe for smoked trout to her cat just to make him jealous of humans, right]
Hello. I’m Tess. I write for Wipe Your Feet, Tessipes and A Bright Wall in a Dark Room. A few years ago I realized that I am domestically inclined, meaning that I will spend a few hours every night, usually between midnight and three, looking at real estate and how to reupholster a sofa and recipes for aioli. I used to hate myself for this, because I assumed that only yuppies who lacked grit and pushed double strollers were into this corner of the internet (and those stores on Silver Lake by Lamill). On a walk with my friend Bridget, we started talking about what to cook for dinner and what kind of cocktails to make with beer and tomato juice. A moment later, all was revealed: we were both closet yipsters. A yipster, for those of you who don’t know, is somebody who embodies qualities of both a hipster and a yuppie; we were closeted because it’s a tender classification. It’s easy to hate on. But secretly, perhaps you’ve spent too much time on Design*Sponge or thought about buying a sewing machine, and we’re here to say: it’s all right. This is a corner of the internet for you, at 2 AM, when you think you might want to crochet. You think you might want to try to do a rack of lamb. Join us. We don’t think you’ve lost your edge.
Hello, I’m the aforementioned Bridget. I blog professionally over at Bon Appetit and have contributed to the Huffington Post and This Recording. And I’m not afraid to tell you I have aspirational housing instincts, am fixated on houseplants and would be thrilled to suggest something to make for dinner. So sign up for that CSA farm share and stay a while.
hahahaha. mea culpa.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l09ye51HO11qbvq5po1_r1_500.png)
[Bridget completes a VERY DEMANDING craft project, left. Tess reads a recipe for smoked trout to her cat just to make him jealous of humans, right]
Hello. I’m Tess. I write for Wipe Your Feet, Tessipes and A Bright Wall in a Dark Room. A few years ago I realized that I am domestically inclined, meaning that I will spend a few hours every night, usually between midnight and three, looking at real estate and how to reupholster a sofa and recipes for aioli. I used to hate myself for this, because I assumed that only yuppies who lacked grit and pushed double strollers were into this corner of the internet (and those stores on Silver Lake by Lamill). On a walk with my friend Bridget, we started talking about what to cook for dinner and what kind of cocktails to make with beer and tomato juice. A moment later, all was revealed: we were both closet yipsters. A yipster, for those of you who don’t know, is somebody who embodies qualities of both a hipster and a yuppie; we were closeted because it’s a tender classification. It’s easy to hate on. But secretly, perhaps you’ve spent too much time on Design*Sponge or thought about buying a sewing machine, and we’re here to say: it’s all right. This is a corner of the internet for you, at 2 AM, when you think you might want to crochet. You think you might want to try to do a rack of lamb. Join us. We don’t think you’ve lost your edge.Hello, I’m the aforementioned Bridget. I blog professionally over at Bon Appetit and have contributed to the Huffington Post and This Recording. And I’m not afraid to tell you I have aspirational housing instincts, am fixated on houseplants and would be thrilled to suggest something to make for dinner. So sign up for that CSA farm share and stay a while.
hahahaha. mea culpa.
