aloha!

is this blog anti-daylight savings time?

someone at work today revealed to me his love for magnum p.i. (for the record, i always thought magnum wore both a detroit tigers cap and a hawaiian shirt, but apparently that venn diagram doth not meet). thinking about hawaiian shirts reminds me of only one thing: trader joe's. i have an unabashed and unquenchable love for that place. it was the silver lining amidst those dreary days in ann arbor. sure it was snowing in may, but who gives a shit when you can hang with not only trader joe, but trader ming and trader giotto?

anyway, i was super-psyched when TJs decided to open an outpost in new york. i think this excitement lasted for about 2 months, when it dawned on me that the anxiety over whether i could reduce my trip to 8 items so i could join the express line, fighting off those pesky nyu kids buying nothing but cereal, going to a separate store to buy wine, then taking two trains to get home, oh, i dunno, seemed stupid.

joe, someday you and i will be reunited and it will feel so good.

randomtown

reader(...s?), i am feeling overworked and underinspired. and y'know, it hit me, if c4ts can have unlimited shoe-related posts, then i will not cease with my gawker-related posts. i should celebrate that which gives me joy. which do i love most - postsecret? this post about brunch? this train wreck of a post, which i simultaneously love yet loathe? i mean, it is terrifyingly classist, but how can you not remark on people whose weddings involve the following: 1) First dance is to Michael Buble's "That's All"; 2) Wedding song is "Unchained Melody"; 3) Guests made to sing Bob Marley's "One Love" as the couple walked down the aisle?

even though i now live in nyc, i still don't receive my new yorker until at least wednesday. i can't wait for this article. i hope it exhaustively chronicles his journey from tub o'lard with a fan to haughty manorexic. woot. and for those of you who haven't yet read last week's, definitely read the one about AIDS in south africa, joan acocella's article about the choreographer of edward scissorhands, and whichever louis menand article it was. otherwise, forget the one about chalk. snooze!

as a last tidbit, why do designers who push impossible ideals on us always wear the same thing? carolina herrera? tom ford? michael kors?