Thursday, June 13, 2002

Alas, Poor Isaac. I Knew Him Well.

Newtown, Pa. (and the surrounding bedroom communities) has suffered a devastating loss this morning. Local restaurant Isaac Newton's was gutted by fire.

Now, an obscure, quaint (if overpriced) eatery in the middle of an obscure, quaint (if over-gentrified) little town might not mean much to you. But it meant a lot to lovers of fine club sandwiches and "gourmet beer" and quiches of the day and good bread soaked in herbed olive oil.

Odd, how the beloved local eatery burns down the same week that Chik-Fil-A opens. There's an irony there that I think we all can appreciate.

Odd too, how I entered their parking lot two hours after the fire whilst I was turning around to get back to the bypass, and yet failed to notice the building. Faraway, so close. Or something.

There's an irony there that I think only I can appreciate.

I guess we'll be going to Applebee's from now on.

Viva Isaac's.

Robyn

Monday, June 10, 2002

Kickin it 'Burb Style (Y'all)

Today Bobby and I drove into Newtown in the Eminem-blaring, tire-rattling 1992 Buick LeSabre to visit the brand new Chik-Fil-A restaurant which was overrun with high school kids celebrating the next-to-last day of school and myriad others who were curious to see the latest addition to the area's ever-growing cache of corporate outlets. After which we watched MTV before heading off to our respective mall job or appointed hang-out date at a friend's house followed by a late night trip to the Wawa.

Yep. It's summertime in suburbia.

Now you know why the updates haven't been quite as often in coming. Unless you're curious about how different diners' mozzarella sticks stack up against each other. Or Wawa's new computerized ordering system. 'Cuz I can talk about these subjects at length.

But I won't.

Gotta go. Conan's on.

Robyn

Monday, June 3, 2002

The Brit Goes On

It hasn't taken too very long for nostalgia for London to set in. Between the Queen's Jubilee celebrations this weekend and the World Cup in full swing, it's hard not to wish I was back there to enjoy the inebriated, er, celebratory atmosphere in London. I'm content with donning my child's-size England jersey, watching the footie on ABC and broadcasts of the Jubilee celebrations on PBS.

Really I am.

Look, it's not like I'm not getting out or anything. Cuz I do. I have friends. And a job at the mall. And Virgin Radio on the computer. I'm fine. What's your deal?

I not lame.

Viva Britannia

Robyn

By the way, did you know that there are no English words to rhyme with "purple" and "month?" I learned that from Headline News. Because I'm an informed individual who is interested in intellectually stimulating, worldly subjects -- as well as the Party at the Palace and David Beckham's foot. So there.