He'll rip through us like tin foil!

So, how was your day?

We got into an accident this morning.

Thankfully, all parties involved are fine, but hearing your car crinkle like tin foil at 8:00 a.m.? There are better ways to start the morning.

It happened really quickly and the only thing I remember is thinking, "Oh my God. We're not stopping."

Damn you, forward momentum.

Thinking about it messes me up a little because I'm a big fan of playing the What-If game. The game in which you torment yourself by asking what if -- what if we hasn't been wearing our seatbelts and had flown through the windshield? What if the airbag had deployed and injured us? What if we'd been going faster? What if Dan was seriously hurt? What if it was worse?

That last one messes me up the most. That's the one that brews a tempest in my stomach, causes my heart to clench and stings my eyes with salty tears.

We were lucky. Nothing happened that can't be fixed. But the security of that knowledge doesn't stop me from playing the game.

I'm trying to laugh to keep from crying, though. For example -- this morning, Dan and I were dropped off to work in a police car and the entire ride to the office, people kept ogling us, wondering what two young professionals had done so early in the morning as to be stuck in the back of a cruiser. It was pretty amusing. Also, police cars? Not nearly as comfortable as I expected. Instead of cushioned seat, it's hard plastic that you slide around on whenever you make a turn. I imagine it's probably the least fun ever if you're drunk.

Here's to hoping your day was better than ours and that ours gets a little better.

Drive safe.

That's some funky lemonade you got going there, babe

I know. I know. I've been Little Miss M.I.A. lately. Don't worry, though. I won't chungk-chungk-chungk and take your monayyyy.

I've been insanely busy lately. I know everyone says that and when you ask why, they tell you something lame, like they just got a goldfish or something, but the past 30 days really have been nuts.

To recap:

Dan and I went on our immigration interview, I got my employment authorization card, a new job and new digs (we're still in the process of moving in, so right now -- our decorating style can best be described as refugee camp chic). I celebrated my 25th birthday and Meme's bachelorette, my sister got into a bit of a rough car accident (she's fine, but if I ever meet the asshole who cut her off and caused the wreck? I'll snap him in two), I thought I saw Ron Livingston on the way to work (I didn't), Dan won $100 in the lottery and after fourteen years -- I finally got my green card!

Yeah. I think that's about it. So, see? Girl's been busy. However, to make up for my negligence -- I promise a blog post very, very soon filled with goodies (read: music).

Until then, be good!

LOST: Eggtown

A bit of an update, so grab a cold beverage and make yourself comfy.

The reason y'all didn't find a Lost recap this morning was because I got a job and unfortunately, it doesn't involve blogging about pop culture minutae. So, the recaps will be a day late (and possibly a buck short), but they'll be there.

Now, let's get to the creamy filling, shall we?

If you haven't seen the episode yet, stop reading this post and head on over to ABC.com where Eggtown is currently streaming in HD.

LINKS:

Hi-res screencaps and audio at Lost Easter Eggs
Whitney Matheson's Pop Candy Blog
Jeff Jensen @ EW.com -- The Trials of Kate

FLASHBACK: Kate Austen



Yeah, post-Island Kate cleans up pretty well. I couldn't even get mad at Dan for openly salivating.

OFF ISLAND:

+ Kate's on trial for arson, assault, fraud, murder and a whole mess of other things. Apparently, almost dying in a plane crash and spending months detained on Wild Monkey Island does not absolve you of your past crimes.

+ Her lawyer suggests bringing Kate's son to the stand to evoke the sympathies of the jury. Kate vehemently disagrees, so instead legal counsel calls Dr. Jack Shephard to the stand. Despite being under oath, Jack feeds the courtroom a pack of lies -- there were only eight survivors of flight 815 (I may have failed every math class I ever took, but even I know this doesn't add up), Kate was a cross between Florence Nightingale and Wonderwoman on the Island and the marshal accompanying Kate back to the States died in the crash. Kate cuts the testimony short and the prosecution gets one last question in -- does Jack love Kate? Jack responds with yet another lie -- he doesn't love Kate. Not anymore.

+ Kate's wheelchair-bound mother comes to visit her daughter. She wants to see her grandson before she dies and won't testify against Kate if she allows this. Kate refuses and surprisingly enough, her mother backs down and doesn't testify. Kate's punishment? Ten years probation in which she can't leave the state. She says that since she has a son, she wouldn't want to do this anyone.

+ Kate comes home (to a remarkably swanky pad. Did that Oceanic settlement kick in already?) to her son. A cute, tow-headed little boy.....named Aaron. That's right, Miss Austen is now Mama Austen to Claire's baby boy. Chew on that.

ON ISLAND:

+ Ben is locked up again...only this time, it's in the same basement that held Locke's father.

+ Miles convinces Kate to help him escape so he can question Ben. They get to Ben's basement (thanks to a little interference via Sawyer) and Miles gives us a little lesson in the nuances between blackmail and extortion by demanding Ben pay up to the tune of $3.2 million dollars. If he does so, Miles will tell his mysterious employer nothing of Ben's existence. This little act of rebellion causes Locke to banish Kate from Team Locke.

+ Kate and Sawyer spend the night together and in a move straight out of my adolescence, they don't end up doing the deed. The next morning, Sawyer expresses relief at the fact that Kate isn't pregnant and when she rebuffs his advances, he tells her that she'll come running back the next time Jack makes her mad. Kate belts him across the face and leaves.

+ Meanwhile, Locke graduates from merely crazy to batshit bananas. He serves up two very different meals for two very different men. Ben got the more classic breakfast option of melon and eggs while newcomer Miles got a spicier dish:



A grenade shoved straight into his mouth. Now that's a spicy meatball!

+ We learn the helicopter transporting Charlotte, Frank, Sayid and Desmond has yet to reach the freighter. More on that next week.

THEORIES:

Claire must be dead because there is no way she'd give up her son.

If Aaron is considered one of the infamous Oceanic Six, that means that Sun must be the last member of this ragtag bunch. Why? Because if she doesn't get off the island, both she and her unborn child will die.


QUESTIONS:

What the hell happened to Claire?

Is Aaron considered one of the Oceanic Six?

Why did Jack lie under oath and say there were only eight survivors from flight 815? I may have failed every math class I ever took, but even I know that doesn't add up.

$3.2 millions seems a bit arbitrary, don't you think? Why did Miles demand that specific amount?

* There are tons of other questions and theories but I watched the show last night at 1:30 a.m. and am currently running on five hours of sleep and no caffeine. A much more entertaining and thorough recap next week. Promise.

OTHER NEWS:

We might have found the perfect apartment. Cross your fingers, guys 'cause seriously? We're like five seconds from pulling a Jewel and living out of our cars.

Dan and I saw the Foo Fighters at the Spectrum last night. A two-hour juggernaut featuring the old stuff, the new stuff, Grohl screaming like a banshee on fire, an acoustic set, the best version of Everlong I've ever heard in my life, the prettiest version of Big Me I've ever heard in my life (featuring Jessy Greene on vocals), a song by drummer Taylor Hawkins, a triangle solo and the Foo Fighters giving the Spectrum the most shit-rockingly awesome goodbye anyone could ever give the venue with a balls-out version of Best of You. My only minor gripe? That My Hero wasn't played in all its electric glory. This girl loves the bombast and that the drums on this track feel like a herd of elephants stampeding through your central nervous system.

The opening acts were Against Me (who we missed because getting into Philly is like crossing a piranha-infested Amazonian lake only ten times more trecherous) and Serj Tankian of System of a Down who made oddball references to Borat and "Beethoven's cunt" and basically sounded just like every SoaD song I've ever heard.

All in all, an amazing show that just reiterated and inflamed my passion for the band and it's remarkably talented lead singer. Guitarist Christ Shiflett and Dave Grohl played duelling guitars for a bit and like I told Dan, if I had been wearing a skirt? Well, let's just say the band would have gotten a free pair of Aerie hipsters.

Hot child in the city, running wild and looking pretty

I have this thing for cities. A crush....only, at this point, I'd consider it a full-blown love affair.

I love buildings. New monoliths going to toe-to-toe with classic architecture. Concrete meeting cobblestone. I love looking up and seeing birds reflected in windows. I love buses and taxes hurtling by at a breakneck pace, pausing just long enough to let out a stream of obscenities punctuated by a blaring horn.I love-love-love the smell and taste of street food. A $2 slice tastes better to me than a gourmet meal anywhere. I love the people -- multi-colored people with multi-colored lives. It's a good reminder that while we're different, we're actually more the same. Hell, I even love the way tube stations smell (although, this applies solely to the London Underground seeing as I hate the way SEPTA stations smell. Sorry, but that heady scent of urine really doesn't do it for me).

And I love street art. Everything ranging from elaborate graffiti to messages scrawled in Magic Marker to stencils and stickers.

There's something so honest and egalitarian about it. I also love the idea of opening up the entire city as your canvas. My city. My canvas. My message.

I discovered this website -- Written on the City.

Photographs of street art from all over the world -- London, Austin, Tehran, New York, Madrid. Some examples are funny, some are pithy and some are just plain stupid but I love the fact that people all over the world have something to say, something to contribute...and they do.

Check it out. Hopefully, you'll like it as much as I do. You can also check out more amazing street art on Flickr (this is one of my favorites).

Oh and things like this make me fall more and more in love with Philadelphia every day: