08.26.03 - 5:48 p.m.

Oregon Trail. Best. Game. Ever. And you know, he's right about them updating it and ruining it, because Dan has a copy (albeit for Windows 95, heh) and seeing things in more than eight pixels just ruins the whole "roughing it" concept.

And also speaking of computers, the beauty girls always have technological issues. Really simple ones, like needing to Force Quit on a frozen application or something. So for reasons unknown, they always call me over instead of the IT guy, which is fine since I'm not doing anything pressing anyway. And all it requires is pressing a few buttons, so I end up feeling like the Jimmy Fallon computer dork character from Saturday Night Live, all "MOVE!" and clickety-clickety-clack.

This weekend I snagged a pair of Marc Jacobs orange capris at a drastically reduced price, even though I promised myself I was giving up capris for good. I just couldn't this time, because A) they were orange, B) they were Marc, C) they are slightly bootcut and therefore do not make me look as stumpy as capris typically do, and D) they were cheap. Score another one for the persuasive powers of orange clothing.

I also attempted in vain to find the appropriate pointy-toe black crepe (or satin! I'm not particular!) pumps to match my black evening dresses. I realize it's only August and the next batch of fall weddings isn't till November, but it's good to be prepared. Dammit, folks. I just want the simplest pair of black d'orsay pointy-toe pumps, or maybe slingbacks. Is that so hard to ask? And I don't feel like paying retail at Stuart Weitzman to get them!

Now I'm all in a shoe snit and I can't even remember what I did on Saturday.

Oh yes. We went to the childhood home of a former child actor who happens to be college friends with Dan for softball, grilled meats and poker. It was surreal, to say the least, even though I've met this guy before (in the Meadowlands parking lot) and have known for a while that Dan knew him. It's just... I used to watch you on TV! I used to idolize your TV big sis, the one who you say is a huge bitch with a lazy eye! (Although, from what I've seen of her in the press, I'm not surprised.)

And now I'm in your parents' home with the silvery 70s wallpaper, looking at your childhood photos and playing with your dog. Just odd.