After our lunch L. and I went and looked in a few stores for a few things, but returned with nothing. For dinner L. made chicken, broccoli and quinoa. A good and balanced meal.
Well, this photograph doesn't belong here at all, but I look good so I'll leave it.
The main event of the evening was a party with a 'surrealist' theme. My college art history classes allowed me to have the vaguest feeling of once really knowing what that meant, but in practice it meant putting on out of the ordinary outfits. As always, I accidentally prompted us to get into our finery way before we needed to leave, which led us to quite an epic Mac photoshoot.
Oh yeah, we got totes obsessed with this effect.
L. lost her head, but her breasts were fine.
My arms have the ability to separate from my body for the best sneak attacks.
I don't know any signs to do with my hands. Though last night while I was waiting somewhere for something a man asked me if I knew sign language. When I said no and looked at him quizzically he explained the way I had been gesturing to another person made it seem like I did. I am going to take that as a compliment?
We were laughing and giggling so hard that finally Fat T. managed to tear himself away from his new iPad and get in on the fun. Many of his contributions bordered on the obscene.
You'd think that no more photographs of the evening would be needed. You would be so terribly wrong.