Last night one of my best galpals and boyfriend organized a small surprise birthday party complete with all my favorite things - ampersands, Taco Bell (!!!! I died), mexican martinis, good conversation and Dawson’s Creek. And I was in bed by midnight because they know I love an early bedtime (hello, I’m an old woman). I was so shocked and touched by what they had done that I was holding back tears the whole time, which came pouring out as I told my mom about it today. I feel so incredibly lucky to have these people in my life - I am undeserving.
My boyfriend, bless his heart, came up with the idea earlier this week knowing I’d not want a big fuss and boy did he DELIVER. He even got a lemon curd tart from a local bakery - he knows I live for lemon curd and don’t really care for cake. I can’t say it on Facebook or Twitter without sounding like an affhole so I’ll say it on Tumblr because we all do it: I have the best boyfriend in the world.
26, thanks for being amazing. 27….I’m coming for you!
As about 45 percent of us know, ghosts are definitely real and casually walk among us. Some have a post-life agenda of stealing our socks or manifesting as apparitions on burned toast; others prefer to spend their time banging around abandoned children’s hospitals for Syfy Channel reality shows. But there’s one ghost who has taken an industrious approach, choosing to operate a creepy Coca-Cola machine on an innocuous corner in Seattle’s Capitol Hill. Like an endless Encyclopedia Brown story, the machine has been an ongoing source of curiosity and fear from locals for decades due to its weird location, outdated appearance, and reputation for being continuously and strangely stocked by a seemingly non-existent operator. It brings to mind the famous line from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory that gave entire generations of children the heebie jeebies: “Nobody ever goes in, and nobody ever comes out.”
With its sun-bleached buttons and charmingly antiquated Mountain Dew logo, the Mystery Coke Machine has been spitting out sodas on the corner of John and Broadway for upwards of 15 years, but no one seems to know exactly for how long—or who re-stocks, maintains, or collects money from the thing. It’s as though it fell out of a wormhole and landed free-standing onto this lonely corner. From the get-go, its 70s appearance evoked a sense of cheery yet ominous nostalgia, as if Matthew McConaughey’s character fromDazed and Confused would fit right in with it, leaning against its side while he’s busy winking at you. Prior to encountering it, you may not consider how unusual and even intimidating a vending machine looks standing alone on a sidewalk. It’s almost as though it’s forever waiting for something, or someone in particular, to show up.