• Give yourself one point for going to the Farmer's Market. (1)
• Give yourself another point for walking to the Farmer's Market. (2)
• Give yourself one point for bringing along your canvas tote with "Plastic Ain't My Bag" hand-painted on the side. (3)

Check it out! My boyfriend is officially the last person on the Internet to start a blog!

(But it's a photo blog, so maybe that's a whole different ball game. That's what we'll tell him, anyway. Or what we would tell him if he could hear us from all the way up there on that bandwagon.)

About a month ago, I got an email asking me if I'd be interested in becoming a Nintendo Brand Enthusiast. I was three seconds away from deleting it---figuring it was just some cleverly-disguised INCREDIBLE PRICES FOR BEST DRUG$! junk mail---when I decided to take a closer look. And then an even closer one. As far as I could figure out, after extensive between-the-lines reading, Nintendo just wanted to throw me parties and send me stuff. For free. Was there a catch? Nope, there was no catch.

Uh, did you know I'm going to the Bahamas next Tuesday? Nope, neither did I. Well, that's not true; I knew, of course---you don't just forget about a trip to the Bahamas, after all---but I guess I just wasn't expecting it to come up so fast.

Scuba diving must be one of the only activities in the world where you constantly have to tell someone how much you weigh. Seriously, I had about five guys ask me my weight this weekend---getting fitted for the wet suit, getting fixed up with all the equipment---and it's not even that I minded so much, it's just one of those questions you don't really ever expect to be asked outright. What's your name? Sure. Where are you from? Yep, get it all the time. But how much do you weigh?

So I don't have much to tell you right now, apart from the fact that I spent the hours between four and six p.m. today lounging around in this turquoise water right here:

After a surprisingly flawless trio of flights from Houston to West Palm Beach and West Palm Beach to the Abacos, we took a ten-minute water taxi to Green Turtle Cay, where we promptly dumped our bags at the hotel and settled in for lunch:

I had a fairly wacky day last week: not only did I jump into the ocean and swim with sharks, but I also ate fresh lobster for lunch and ordered seared ahi tuna for dinner, and if you know me at all, you'll know I'm not really a fan of seafood. Still trying to figure out which of those is the greater accomplishment.

So my pal Jim says I'm not allowed to post any more photos of me on vacation because there are too many photos of me on vacation already and this is possibly a little traumatic for people who are not on vacation, people who are, perhaps, stuck in a beige cubicle or inside the four walls of their living room, rather than on a white sand beach in the Bahamas, sipping rum punch and swimming with sharks. 

The second after Kristin and I took our first sips of these---procured in the Houston airport on one of eight million layovers---we both turned to each other, eyebrows raised, and said in unison "Best! Thing! Ever!"

Sean is waiting for Barack Obama to email him. Every time his iPhone buzzes with a new email message, his hands fly to it immediately, nervous as a teenage girl. "Is it Barack?" he gasps. Sadly, it has not yet been Barack. It has only been a bunch of junk mail and maybe one $10-off coupon at Overstock.com.

Wait, what? Seriously? You called your kid Zuma Nesta Rock? Zuma Nesta Rock Rossdale, no less? How is this kid going to tell anyone his name without sounding like he's counting to three in some strange language? Un, deux, trois! Uno, dos, tres! Ein, zwei, drei! Zuma, nesta, rock! 

A woman was rude to me last night and it made me so angry that I had to go into the shop next door and buy an expensive sea salt shower gel to make myself feel better. And I did feel better, for about five seconds, but then I kind of felt worse again, because what kind of person needs to buy an expensive sea salt shower gel to make themselves feel better? Hmm, me, I guess, that's who.

Having a subscription to Us Weekly has it benefits. I recently won a Starbucks card at work, for instance, after I entered a competition in which one had to identify a handful of famous people's children from pictures cut out of magazines. I got 'em all---Suri Cruise, Apple Paltrow, even Liam Spelling, if you can believe it---except for one elusive celebrity spawn, who turned out to be the daughter of one of the members of Wilson Phillips, which was a little esoteric, if you ask me, because who listens to Wilson Phillips anymore?

Did I tell you I'm an editor over at Beauty Hacks? It's BlogHer's new space for everything fashion and beauty-related and today I wrote about self-tanner. Specifically, I wrote about the world's second-greatest self-tanner---that is, the world's greatest self-tanner that you can buy in a drugstore for ten bucks---and if you've ever wanted to hit the bottle (um, the self-tanning bottle) but weren't sure which one to pick out to avoid Oompa Lo

Do you have a favorite phrase or is that just me? I know you probably have a favorite word---everyone has a favorite word, and definitely a least favorite one as well---but I think I might be just that much of a geek that I even have a favorite combination of words too.