The obligatory Steve Jobs mention:
I have cried over the deaths of only two celebrities: Mr. Rogers and Steve Jobs. In fact, I’m still kinda upset about Steve, when I think of the impact this stranger had (and still has) over my everyday life. The first computer I ever used was an Apple IIe in my fifth grade reading teacher’s class. I had a floppy disk that was actually floppy, and learned code to write Mad Libs. I’ve been a loyal Apple and Mac user ever since, aided by the fact that I worked in publishing and design after college, and married a Mac-using boy who lets me overpay for pretty computers.
If you look through my rooms and closets you’ll find a 2000-era iMac, a 2009 iMac, an iBook, a MacBook, two iPhones, and an iPad. I sleep every night with my iPad and iPhone on the nightstand right next to me. It’s my Apple products that let me edit my photos, maintain a blog, keep in touch with my friends, let the world watch my children grow up. So yeah, I never knew Steve Jobs, but the things he created are so deeply ingrained in my life that I can’t help but feel the loss. The fact that I learned of his death by reading a headline on an iPhone pretty much sums it up, doesn’t it?
How Andy watches Mad Men:
“No, I don’t really have a problem with Don’s identity. Because I think the whole show is about deception. The advertising industry is a form of deception, blahblahblah more intelligent musings blahblahblah.”
How Jennifer watches Mad Men:
“I wish I could follow what Andy is saying, but man, Jon Hamm is too hot. Don Draper is so cute it makes me want to giggle. Don’t giggle. Must not giggle. DO NOT GIGGLE AVERT YOUR EYES FROM THE SCREEN. Oh good, it’s a Peggy scene now. Um, now what were you saying again, dear?”
So Indy got itself a Container Store, and somehow I scored an invite to its private preview party a few nights before it officially opened. I wasn’t sure what to expect as my friends and I handed the car keys to the valet; I mean, we were going to go drink in the middle of shelving and stuff. But DUDE, it was a BLAST.
In the middle of the store was an eight-piece band. And in the middle of the dance floor were a bunch of suits getting DOWN. When my cousin Marcy and I spotted a bowtied middle-aged guy rocking out to the Black Eyed Peas, we deemed him awesome and went out to dance. I attempted one of those “pretend I’m not taking a picture but I’m totally taking a picture” snaps to catch him in action.
We wondered who he was, so I whipped out the iPhone to google the name on his nametag. Who was he? Oh, just a FOUNDER OF THE COMPANY.
So even if you don’t think you need bacon containers or clothes hanger organizers in your life, you have to admit, they know how to throw a party.
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING SELF-PORTRAITS CONTAIN DANGEROUS LEVELS OF CUTENESS