Rob is kite boarding in North Carolina this weekend which means I have 48 glorious hours to get Liz Lemony. Snacks for breakfast, TV for lunch, wine on the treadmill, etc. I will stop short of reading YA fiction or knitting a scarf out of cat hair that’s a lie I’m currently re-reading The Hunger Games but it’s going to be a super lovely low key couple of days.

Have a good weekend and if you’re going to Preakness, wear sunscreen and write the phone number of a friend or guardian on your hand in case you get drunk and lost.

Here are some links for you!

Secrets from flight attendants.

Love this print.

That bird better not mess up my credit.

Yeesh.

Did we not already know this from watching Junior?

What a sensible gal. And that’s definitely her own face.

Dads are excitable and funny.

Bill and Gilda.

Google Glass review.

Joel Stein is hot and likes his wife’s nice boobs.

PUZZLES.

The MICA Art Walk was so fun! Two miles of art! A room filled with grass! A vibrating sofa! A portrait of Drew Barrymore! This is art and that is art and you are art!

Well holy crap, Mexico. It’s so close, so beautiful, and so delicious. We ended up splitting our time between Playa del Carmen and Tulum, which was lovely because we got to hang out with friends and see both towns. That’s a lie. We only really saw Tulum because when we were back in Playa we slept (fifteen hours straight on the first day) and drank drinks on the beach until I got some kind of mild sun poisoning despite sitting in the shade with hourly SPF 50 rubdowns.

Our first morning in Playa was spent eating breakfast on the beach, which is a particular kind of joy I had not yet known. The food at our resort was stellar, and we learned that tomato sauce and peas are delicious accoutrement to fried eggs. THEMOREYOUKNOW.

Full of Mexican breakfast, we headed south to Tulum. The impetus for this whole trip was our friend Jamie’s discovery of, and carnal need to go to Hartwood, which an open-air restaurant on the jungle side of Tulum. It’s set a few steps down from Tulum’s only beach road, and within an hour of being seated the entire place was full and people were lined up on the road to wait their turn. We feasted on jicima and watermelon salad, fresh (whole) octopus, fish, beef, and the very best ribs I’ve ever tasted, served on a plate of baked yucca, motherfuckingyes.

Mosquitos ate us while we ate food, which after a few stiff margaritas went from an annoyance to a deeply spiritual circle of life moment. The staff whirled around us with open cans of smoking ceder to keep the bloodsuckers at bay, but my tequila buzz was insect morphine. On the plane back, I counted up to 37 bug bites and still thought they were worth the meal.

Because this was such a last-minute trip, we could only work out two and a half days in Mexico. Leaving behind our friends (who are still there) was an exquisite kind of first world jealousy. We will be back, Yucatan Peninsula. And this time I’ll be armed with Deet and SPF 450.

We’ll be in Mexico until Monday, so please forgive if posting is light. I’m not sure what the wifi situation is in our bungalow by the sea, but I’m alternately hoping it’s non-existent or being beamed directly into our room from space. Indecision, man.

I fully expect to come back with a burn, whereas Rob tans beautifully. With his beard, he looks vaguely ethnic by late June each year, like maybe he comes from oil money or Armenian royalty. I turn hot red, molt, and return to society with pink, freckled skin and controlling interest in Coppertone’s R&D department.

Nos vemos el Lunes, friends.

This was me driving back and forth to Deep Creek last weekend. Alone except for David Sedaris reading to me, hands nervously at 11 and 1, hating every person on the road for their rule breaking.

Unrelated, I haven’t had a car since my dad asked if my brother could borrow mine in 2008.

I have the spring fever. My brain is connected to a daisy chain and floating above my head and I’m just full of pollen and sunshine. I keep trying to snap out of it but IT’S SPRING GUYS and it’s consuming my thoughts. So much so, that this morning I found myself entangled in a thick rope and I was like, Oh, weird I’m unraveling myself from a rope hanging from the sky.

I looked up and saw the cone in the picture above and wait a minute, I’m sorry, what now? And then I really looked up and there were two men dangling in the sky on a weekday because that is their job.

Professional Rappelers; Cleaning Artists; Dangling Humans. And almost as important, DANGERPEOPLEWORKINGABOVE Cone Manufacturing is a career path, too.

Anyway. Like I said. Thoughts are fuzzy and excitable, head is detached. It’s all very Ned Stark.

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In a few hours I’m heading to Deep Creek for my friend Kate’s bachelorette weekend. She also is graduating from med school in a few weeks so I’m considering this a part bachelorette, part grad party, part check-up weekend.

If you’re staying in Baltimore, park your car and leave it there until Sunday night. There are three million street festivals, Cinco de Mayo neighborhood celebrations, Kinetic races, and running races all through the city, which means you have a lot to do but also will could lose your mind in the labyrinth of street closures. You’re welcome for the tip.

Yay for Spring!

Here are some links for you.

Call me, Maeby.

Goddammit.

BABBYS.

The 2013 Isentate holiday card will tap into the spirit of this.

This is me all summer…

…because I just learned about burnt sugar ice cream.

This is pretty good.

“While waiting at the cash register, I picked up a pair of argyle wool socks from a nearby wicker basket and asked, “Are your socks local?” The salesman self-consciously said no. I returned the socks like an organic farmer who has learned that a friend has named her child Monsanto.”

Alright, Space. We get it. You’re weird and cool.

After the FashionEASTa festivities, Lauren and I headed back to my house and found Rob playing ping-pong alone and also found that Lauren had left her phone in the J.Crew dressing room.

We caucused, and figured our best course of action was to retrieve the abandoned phone and head to Highlandtown for tacos. I cannot remember the name of the place (Rob?) but their tacos were delightful.

Lauren and I ordered margaritas and when the waiter asked what size we both said Large? and he looked skeptical, especially when I requested shots of Grand Marnier in both. He returned with two fucking fishbowls and we rolled up our sleeves and accepted the challenge.

A few years ago, I would have sipped and chatted and shoved tortilla chips in my mouth. I would have laughed at the size of it while being secretly delighted. But not now. Now, I complained about the sweetness of the drink. Made lake-effect jokes. Considered how quickly Type II Diabetes would set in. Rob enjoyed his Modello and eye-rolled our TGIFridays-ish order until he began worrying how much two 64 ounce margaritas with Grand Marnier would cost. Lauren choked down a few more sips than I could before declaring it undrinkable.

When we got home I drank five glasses of water in a row and woke up with Lauren Willy Wonka style on the sofa at 2am. Then continued to whine about my caloric intake throughout the day. I mean, that was really just a foolish amount of sugary syrup in that drink, right?

Growing up is half being responsible and half enjoying the complaining more than the thing you used to like to do. I’m going to be a terrific geriatric.

I wasn’t sure how the fashion show situation would work out because here in Baltimore you either get Lilly Pulitzer (I mean, RIP, but ugh), or something stretchy enough to accomodate the arched back of your heroin lean.

Baltimore chose to clean up nice, and the runway clothes were pretty great, and the audience looked sharp and sophisticated.

Especially this gal.

The weather was dreamy and the show was cool and I’m happy we went. Stephanie Bradshaw and her group kept the event really upbeat and full of energy and I’m excited to see the final cut from Shine Creative who filmed nearly all day. And thanks to Harbor East for the tickets and kick ass seats!

Robby Isennock: professional runway walker and gum chewer. And we learned he can do both at the same time.

Man, spring is happening. I forget each year that April is the exclamation point at the end of winter and everyone! wants! to! do! everything!

It’s been a busy few weeks and it’s going to get nuttier, but as long as I’m not wearing a coat and pants are optional I’m happy. Tonight we have a fun shoot at our house, and then tomorrow is the FashionEASTa event in Harbor East. My brother is walking in the show and I won a contest to name their mascot which means I get front row heckling real estate. And free drink tickets. GO ROBBY!

Have a sunny weekend and if I don’t see you at the CASA art auction on Sunday at AREA405 consider yourself on probation.

Here are some links for you!

Appalachia is like dang why didn’t we think of that.

Just everybody shut up so I can hear and watch this on repeat forever.

Tart cake.

Spent far too much (or not enough) time this week reading and watching up on this masterpiece. Adults were so much more shameless and fun in the 90′s.

I bet her parents are really proud. She seems like a nice girl.

The closest I can get Rob to being on Top Gear.

Yes. I’ll take them all please thanks.

More than anything, this movie made me want to be a cocktail waitress on an oil rig. But this is another way to learn lessons from it.