Lobsterfest.

Enter Monday, stage left.

Mondays are such a shame, aren’t they? They serve as the proverbial bucket of cold water unceremoniously doused over the glowing embers of a perfectly delightful weekend.

Kellan and I spent Saturday evening attending an annual event a coworker of his throws called Lobsterfest. I knew precisely that much information when I agreed to go, because LOBSTER. [Also, fests.] I may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I know enough to show up when Lobster is on the menu!

We walked into a tented backyard and marveled at the vast array of lobster-themed decorations. Lobster twinkle lights, lobster plates, lobster wine glasses…I had no idea that lobsters were so in vogue! What else have I been missing? We all know that I rely on you people to keep me in the loop.

Kellan took one look around, and immediately determined that WE need a tradition too. Except, our annual party will look slightly less like a tented gala, and slightly more like hot dogs nuked in a dirty microwave. Hotdogfest2014–you’re all invited! BYOPP. [Clearly, bring-your-own-paper-plate.]

For those of you that can’t make it, don’t you worry for a second. I’ll make sure to pin every precious detail so you can replicate it at home…

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4 Comments

Filed under My ghetto-fab life

4 responses to “Lobsterfest.

  1. Joan Dickens

    Congratulations on your new job. I am so excited for you. Much love

  2. Marge Farmer

    You lift me up with your humor!

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