My eyes might just fall

My eyes might just fall out of my head. I think I have been doing too much of the reading/computer sitting/television watching this week and my eyes feel like they’ve been replaced with peeled grapes. We watched four episodes of Lost last night and I have a question: no one knows how to distill water? Granted, the discovery of fresh water was not long off, but seriously. They can cobble together receivers and medical supplies and shelters, and no one can figure out how to play with a tarp and some ocean water? Even by accident? Sayid must have been sick the day the Republican Guard covered that between creating antennas and going over effective torturing devices. Embarrassing!

Miss Zoot had a baby and blogged through almost the whole ordeal (except the passed out times, but even then her husband slipped in an entry). Craziness! Also: cuteness!

I have last month's issue of GQ on my desk at work and Cameron's boob keeps distracting me:

It's all at a weird angle and working oddly with the scrap of flesh below the bikini top. It keeps looking at me.

Today is my brother's birthday. Because I live in a fashion capitol and have fairly good taste, I am allowed to give him clothes for occasions that warrant gifts. Since those times are typically in cold weather, I usually end up getting him a sweater. At some point, I realized I always seemed to get him a variation on the same theme, namely some sort of blue sweater with some sort of stripes involved. Good-looking blues and stripes, mind you, I just realized I was maybe in a sweater rut. My brother, he is a picky dude, though. You can’t just go flinging things in a cart and expect him to wear things like (gasp!) BUTTON UP shirts with (horrors!) COLLARS or (no!) V-NECK SHIRTS or logos or, like, orange. He tends to like earthen tones and, uh, blue sweaters with stripes, so I guess that’s why I gravitate where I do. Point is, I found a nice white sweater that I thought he would enjoy this year. I liked the design, but thought it might be a little strangely cut, so was hemming and hawing over it. Finally I just turned to the first guy I saw and asked his opinion. He was of average build and addressed me very seriously, with a bit of a European accent. This whole transaction took place without him smiling once.

Liz: Hey! Do you think this sweater is cut a little weird? Do you think it’s okay?
Guy: It looks good.
Liz: You don’t think this part where it comes in will be weird on?
Guy: You want me to try it on?
Liz: Uh…sure!
Guy: [pulling it over shirt] Normally I would wear this in a small, as I don’t like, you know, it too baggy here. This is too big for me. [smoothing it out] This is nice.
Liz: [seeing it’s fine and now feeling a bit embarrassed] Great! Looks good.
Guy: [starts doing a little catwalk walk up and down the aisle]
Liz: Ha ha! [to salesgirl] See? You should hire him to show off your clothes here!
Guy: [taking sweater off] I don’t need a job.

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