(Let's pretend it's 2000, shall we?)

After a long and seemingly unproductive day at work I went to a tech event thrown by the French Trade Office. The last one attracted 150 people, but 45 minutes into this one, when I walked in, about 10 people were milling about a large space near the new mall. It was bizarre and, frankly, a little smelly (cliche, I know, but really...).

After a short visit, I left with a new contact and Adriana for the St. Regis hotel, where we chatted over drinks and a cheese plate. Then, as I headed to BART to begin the increasingly annoying journey home, I realized that Stephen was working nearby, so I went to say hello. I didn't see him on the floor -- I figured he was in the back but I didn't want to be a 16-year-old and ask if he was there. I was about to leave but my mom called, which rarely happens on a weekday. I decided to stick around since I couldn't head to BART while talking. Just as I was telling mom where I was and that I hadn't seen Stephen he appeared! And, hey, he was just about to take his break.

So yay. Free coffee and conversation before heading to the East Bay.

But my good fortune didn't last. I missed the train by just a few minutes once again. How fucking annoying. WHY GOD, WHY?!

(We will now return to a series of totally impersonal entries consisting nearly entirely of embedded videos and photos.)

MJ reenacts her dad's difficulty mastering the double click. @ the Web 2.2 afterparty at Fluid.

POPOZAO!

GUBA cosponsored the first Vloggies, which went off with a few hitches but also a few fun surprises last night in SF. Among them: the attendance of uberfamous director/writing/producer Jerry Zucker. I whipped out my camera in time to capture his remarks:

Lauren is 27. TWENTY-SEVEN! That means we've been good friends for NINE years. I clearly remember checking out her brand-spankin'-new Jeep Cherokee (which would become our second home in 2004) in the senior parking lot in 1997. Oy.

Our paths had crossed in high school (I remember saying a slightly awkward goodbye freshman (?) year when I learned she was moving back to Pennsylvania ... temporarily, it turned out) but we didn't become friends until senior year. We really had no choice -- we had five classes together that year. But luckily, we meshed insanely well. Ying and yang in some ways (approach to school work, for example), really similar in others, we became super close. I think my favorite senior year memory is the first time we hung out outside of school, at a game of some sort (football?), right after her breakup with Chap. What a DOUCHE.

Lauren and I would not be as close if we hadn't lived together after freshman year at Rutgers. And, of course, the quintessential Louis St. story is when the toilet was out of commission and both (her) Ben and I had to crap. Hilarity ensued. But I'll just leave out the deets this time, thankyouverymuch.

Between then and our latest stint as roommates in Rahway, we sang along to the Dixie Chicks as we drove to Smith, where the infamous haircuts took place; I watched her take in two animals with gender-identity issues and we even shared Ben issues. During the past nine years I have been shocked by her intelligence, her compassion and her belching.

Loving who? Loving Lauren M. Duffy, ya crazy biatch!

If you missed the email or MySpace bulletin (overkill):

The creatively named GUBA Blog is live at last, so chickety check it:

blog.guba.com/tj

Funny videos, snarky writing - what's not to love? So go, pay careful attention to yesterday's entry and follow its instructions.

Danke.

I love this:



Shoeth.

The best part is 2:38, when the chick does the running man.