A bright happy light on the horizon?

My life for the past couple of weeks has been pretty glum. I got disappointing news on a job front and have been blue about that for about two weeks. The weather, even here in Berkeley, has also been uniformly yucky. This morning there was such a torrential downpour that a sewer main down the street on Woolsey broke. There was a literal geyser of poo-water flooding our street for about 45 minutes. The water reached so far as to cover the first doorstep up to our building. Thankfully, Rordog and I were able to watch this scene, and all of our sleepy and scantily clad neighbors photographing the flood, from our second-story turret. To add to this rainy chaos, on Friday there was apparently an earthquake around 10:30am which could be felt from Boalt but which I missed. [Cue the "It's the End of the World as we Know It"]

On top of all this, finals are also sort of a lonely period and I get really depressed when trying to learn an entire course-worth of material in 72 hours. Now that my intense, and productive, period of study is over, I am left feeling sort of guilty about the lack of energy I have to devote to my final final. That sense of malaise brings me back to the blog.

In order to distract myself while "studying" at a tea shop with the Ha this afternoon, I came up with my dream job. I want to be a TV lawyer consultant. Many popular shows misrepresent the law and how it works or have their attorney characters acting inconsistently with their profession/and or persona. (As an illustration here I'm thinking about Sandy Cohen on the OC. Admittedly, I think Sandy is supposed to act from his heart, throwing caution and the Rules of Professional Responsibility to the wind from time to time but... sometimes I think the show could use some better legal advice from someone with a JD... someone like me.) So, the idea is that I become a consultant to writers and producers and do their legal homework for them. This way I can be involved in all sorts of fake legal drama and get TV plots for my favorite shows way on the early side. Perhaps I can even meet real live stars. Hollywood, here I come!

I like big butts and I cannot lie...

My musicology may be off, but to the best of my knowledge, the musical expression of true fondness for large rear ends began in the rap genre. Perhaps the critical piece in this field is Sir-Mix-A-Lot's "Baby Got Back." Other (at least somewhat related) exemplars include Sisqo's, "The Thong Song" and whatever spawned the phrase, "Junk in the Trunk."

Until today, I thought this hysteria was primarily confined to rap. I was sorely mistaken. Today I was exposed to my new favorite song/monstrosity by "former college football player and oil rig roughneck," Trace Adkins. The illustrious song is "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk."

I am still reeling from the glory of these lyrics, and Trace's smooth baritone, so I'll simply nod to a few of the choicest phrases and now implore you all to download this gem.

"And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma*
There ought-a be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how'd she even get them britches on?"

*Is this a common phrase? I cannot endorse this type of abuse.

there's nothing like finals to inspire procrastination

so here i am, back again. thanks to all who expressed solidarity and concern with the health of my little mac. right now we are back on rosy terms although it appears that while fixing my hard drive, the folks at apple essentially destroyed my wireless capacity. i suppose this is a blessing in disguise as, at least in theory, it should make me more productive. see above for how well that's working...

Who needs a "logicboard" anyway?

This past week has not numbered among my best. In chief, the problems come down to the second failure of my computer because of a crack in its "logicboard." Apparently, this board of logic is the nerve center of my laptop and when it goes on the fritz... all hell breaks loose. On Tuesday morning I knew all was not well because my screen did what I call "the matrix" in the middle of criminal procedure. Lines started crossing my open windows, things froze, little green numbers started trailing down my screen and I panicked.* As it turns out, my panicked state was warranted because after bringing in my computer to the folks at the Mac Store, I learned that something was rotten in the state of my computer.

On top of the logicboard flaw, my entire hard drive had bitten the dust. Upon hearing this news I had a bit of a meltdown myself. Once I recovered, I managed to cajolethe folks at Mac to give data recovery on my behalf one last valiant effort. Happily, they managed to retrive all of my word documents from my time at Boalt. This was cause for great celebration but sadly, I lost all my music, my photos, and my emails.**

Over the course of this week and this loss, I've learned exactly how much my computer means to me. I was devastated and quite inconsolable when I thought everything was lost. It's been tough to shake this sense of frustration and the knowledge that not having my laptop is going to set me back a bit in terms of my studying and my all-too-elusive writing requirement. It feels as though these logicboard cracks are contagious. If I had one, it feels like it would be cracked right now too. I suppose the lesson to be learned in all of this is to lighten up, invest less (of my worth and energy) in my personal possessions, and... above all else - BACK UP YOUR DATA. That is my public service announcement. That is all.

* In reality, no awesome numbers dripped down my screen but it did begin to look as though it were possessed.
** I know, I know, I could have paid thousands of dollars to folks at Lazarus or Drivesavers to get this information but the cost of that operation could match my Bar expenses and I had to say no.

WHEREAS...

Kip and LaFawnduh's wedding shows Idaho's commitment to healthy marriages...

This morning as part of my ongoing quest to once again attain Lexis-Nexis elite member status I did the 10 point "You Decide Fact or Fiction" research exercise. In the course of this point-grubbing I was delighted to find another legal research gem. My all-time favorite legal research tidbit is the Circuit Court judge quoting Ludacris but this is a close second.

Earlier this year, the Idaho House of Representatives passed a Resolution "commending Jared and Jerusha Hess and the City of Preston for the production of the movie "Napoleon Dynamite." Further research revealed that the Idaho State Senate also passed the resolution. Some of the best findings of the Legislature were:

WHEREAS, the friendship between Napoleon and Pedro has furthered multiethnic relationships;
WHEREAS, Rico and Kip's Tupperware sales and Deb's keychains and glamour shots promote entrepreneurism and self-sufficiency in Idaho's small towns;
WHEREAS, Pedro's efforts to bake a cake for Summer illustrate the positive connection between culinary skills to lifelong relationships; and...
WHEREAS, tater tots figure prominently in this film thus promoting Idaho's most famous export.

While all of these findings are quite hilarious, the best part of the resolution was the section that warned any naysaying members of the House of Representatives or the Senate "run the risk of having the 'Worst Day of Their Lives!; and are "FREAKIN' IDIOTS!"

Unsurprisingly, given these fighting words, the resolution passed the House unanimously with one absent member.

And on another note...

I love that people in places other than Berkeley find the time to "protest" such atrocities as... Ashlee Simpson.

Six Reasons for the Recent Blog Hiatus

6. The fact that my dear roommate pointed out how little my blog is worth hasn't helped me to feel motivated to post. See, e.g.:

My blog is worth $0.00.
How much is your blog worth?

5. The Social Security System in the old US of A is pretty darn complicated. I'm trying hard to write a paper that explains all this complexity that's (1) not mind-numbingly boring; (2) still really quite long so that it satisfies my stinking writing requirement; and (3) not as confusing or complex as my topic itself.
4. I've been thinking about the riots in Paris, the indictments, Scalito's nomination, the news of secret CIA prisons throughout Eastern Europe and beyond, but honestly, I've got little to add. I am happy that something is finally serving to take Bush down a notch, at least in the polls, but the news, for the most part, has been so depressing lately that I can't find anything to say.
3. I might have posted something about ANTM tonight but the episode wasn't new. Instead of eliminating another girl, Tyra recapped the season's episodes thus far. I was bored to tears but kept watching and came away with one take-home point: Jayla is America's Next Top Beeyotch. The producers have either been really merciless in editing her or she is truly one of the meanest individuals to ever surface on this show. Stay tuned for Tyra's inevitable heart-to-heart with Jayla which reveals the reasons for her 'tude and magically transforms her into America's darling. Also, tune in to UPN next week for what's certain to be some of the worst television ever. Former ANTM contestants will be starring on UPN's crappy shows, get this, every night of the week. If the acting wasn't atrocious to begin with, wait until the models arrive. Perhaps the idea behind this is to make the regular stars look halfway competent. What ingenuity!
2. This morning, I would have posted but I had an eye exam and my pupils were crazy dilated. I wore my sunglasses into the library and tried to work on my computer but the screen was too bright. With little else to do, I turned to reading Social Security cases off the Lexis printer.
1. I suppose the top reason for my lack of posting is that in the spirit of procrastination, I've stooped so low as to neglect even my blog.

Rumors of My Elopement Have been Vastly Overstated

Admittedly, only one person (my darling little sister), has jumped to the conclusion that while in Vegas I eloped. Despite the actual lack of popular belief in this falsehood I see it fit to expel any rumors about my wedded status. I remain unmarried even after 72 hours in Las Vegas. The cheesy romance of the Excalibur wedding chapel and ceremony packages were enticing but rest assured that I mangaged to avoid getting hitched this week.

What I didn't manage to avoid this week was near complete unproductivity and an onslaught of food like you wouldn't believe. I believe I may feel full for the next couple of weeks. On the productivity note, if anyone has a suggestion about how to reform Social Security, let me know.

Finally, because I have little else to say but feel that I should be posting something on this oft-neglected blog - feel free to vote for what I should dress up as for Halloween:

a. a racy stripper-esque pirate (a la Treasure Island Casino show because this seems a funny play on the typical girl costumes of "sexy devil," "sexy cat," or "sexy schoolgirl").
b. middle-aged slot machine fanatic from the Midwest
c. other suggestions?

The Dianetics of Vegas

As I write the din of slot machines echoes in the background. Quite the ambiance they provide in these snazzy Casino "business centers". Although I don't have the time to share all of my observations about Vegas I will say this: I like a town where fanny packs are fashion forward. I like a town with free drinks. I like a town with unbelievable boo-fays.

All that said, I am longing for the fresh-ish air of Berkeley and for a simple meal of say, cereal, even after just 2 days of Sin City.

Back to the glitz I go. More on ho trading cards, the trials and tribulations of finding good boots, and yard-long margaritas to come.

Some Comments on Blog Commments

Recently, I've gotten a number of spam-like comments on this blog. I have chosen not to allow these comments to appear on my blog but some of them are pretty hilarious.

Earlier today I got this one from someone named "Jack Naka":

"Cool blog you have going here, I will check in often! I have a similar site about teen fashion. It pretty much covers teen fashion related stuff."

How did Mr. Naka know that I _love_ teen fashion? I am so into those silly looking shrunken sweaters. And sparkly glitter bags? Don't even get me started. In case you're interested in his hugely lame website, I'm giving you the opportunity to check it out. Knock your tweeny socks off.

On another note, the bulk of anonymous comments on my blog has also increased. By increase I mean to say that I've gotten some comments from people I either don't know or people who, for reasons of shame or the desire to keep secrets, chose not to reveal who they are. I don't have a problem with anonymous comments per se. In fact, I think I would be mistaken to require folks to reveal their identity if they want to leave a comment here. If I did that, ridiculous comments like this one (also see infra after the entry about the Yale survey NYT article) wouldn't see the light of day :

"As a male, from a purely self-interested perspective, the high proportion of women in law school improves my future career chances. Inevitably, many women who are currently my peers will exit the path to partnership/prestige/more money because only very few women can wear the mommy and the career hats. I think that's wrong, but knowing that 35-40% of us (the guys) will, by sole virtue of biology, be 80% of the competiton for the best jobs in 10 years helps assuage career-related anxieties."

Comment away. My sarcastic reaction was to suggest that "anonymous" head straight to Yale where he can begin seducing young women who are eager to stay at home and support his career aspirations. Upon further reflection, this comment is pretty astute in some ways although the "by sole virtue of biology" aspect is a bit reductive. Do many men in law school feel this way? Are the jobs that are going primarily to men really the "best jobs?"

My Distate for Animals and My Indifference to Friendster

1. Newsflash: I am not an animal-lover.
People I know tend to be surprised when they learn that I am not a fan of dogs, cats, or any pets for that matter. Somehow this fact is idiosyncratic with the rest of my personality. Folks seem to assume that I love animals as much as, or perhaps more than, the next person. Au contraire. I enjoy the idea of animals in the wild and used to love going to the zoo to look at the tapir. When it comes to dogs or even "cute little puppies" coming near me however, I would rather they stay away. There are a few of reasons for this.
a. For one thing, I was a very small child. As a little kid, most dogs towered over me. When my parents took me to places with dogs, they barked and freaked me out. They slobbered over me. They generally smell b-a-d. I've never really gotten over this.*
b. My father detests cats. My yia-yia does too. From a young age I was reared to think that they were dirty and to be avoided. That impression/indoctrination has stuck with me.
c. I'm kind of allergic to dogs which poses a natural deterrent.
d. Personally, and most likely for the aforementioned reasons, I can't think of a good rationale for spending all sorts of time and money on a pet. Why not buy a new pair of sneakers, spend time with a friend? That said, even I might make an exception if the pet were purchased from "Wet Pets San Pablo." That place is deserving of anyone's patronage solely because of their fantastic home-video-esque commercials. Perhaps I'll make a trip soon.

2. Major Shakeup at Friendster: This morning right before Fed Courts started I was shocked to learn about a new feature on Friendster. You can now view who has looked at your profile in the past month. Shockingly, this can be quite a few people. Interestingly, I just discovered, that this log builds up over the course of a month but is deleted immediately at the month's end. Now that it's October (by a mere forty minutes) I cannot see who viewed my profile in September. This must be Friendster's version of a perverse notice requirement. By that I mean that the Friendster folks introduced this feature at the very end of the month to titillate their users but provide very little satisfaction. Also, in so doing, they warned people that now their "stalking" actions are subject to scrutiny by the very objects of their curiosity or obsession.

The general sense I'm getting about this feature is that it's pretty devastating for people. It takes the fun out of the anonymity of Frienster, that sneaky sense of snooping with no possibility of detection. The person who revealed the feature to me was devastated and, as the following transcript of an AIM conversation with another Friendster demonstrates, this will likely have a chilling effect on dating. I may go so far as to predict the demise of Friendster.

Dirtina's high school pal, and coincidentally Friendster (DHSP): some girl named "Arlene"** bookmarked me
Dirtina (D): how exciting
(DHSP): i don't want to look at her profile though
(D): i know, it's a total trap!
(DHSP): because then i'll be the one guy [in october] who looked at her profile
(D): exactly

Q.E.D.

* Noted exceptions: Otto & Gretta, the best Beagles in the world. Distinct personalities in their own right. RIP.
** Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

So, as it turns out, you CAN'T do it all well.

Joining me tonight in the blogosphere - M. Rup.

An article in the New York Times today examined, and not very critically or very well, certain life expectations of female students at Ivy League colleges. The young women quoted in this article intend to put parenting (i.e., mommying) above their career goals. A choice to parent instead of pursuing a career full speed ahead is perfectly legitimate. However, apart from the seemingly innocent and insular "individual choices, this article disturbed us to our very core. In chief, we raise two critiques.

(1) We are disturbed about the institutional impacts of rich women taking up spots in elite institutions because they have the option and privilege to do so but will not make full use of their degrees. When education is as competitve and expensive as it is now, why not leave the class spots open for people who will use their degree? This is especially concerning to us because so many of the students quoted in this article plan to become lawyers. In our opinion the legal profession needs more public servants and more students from underrepresented backgrounds. Another related issue is that when many women express these preferences it adds credibility to assumptions that all women will eventually choose the "mommy track." This is damaging to women in the law and other professions. I'm not arguing that everything will change if women just realign their preferences with equally disturbing second-wave feminist viewpoints but until people start demanding more gender equity, nothing in the workplace is going to begin to change.

(2) The viewpoints in this article implicitly assume that all women have the choice to stay at home with their children. While maybe some of these Yalies from the burbs can rely on their daddies to pay for their whole education, college and law school, and then rely on their husbands to foot their bills, not all women find themselves in their Manolo Blahniks. From comments like these, "My mother's always told me you can't be the best career woman and the best mother at the same time," Ms. Liu said matter-of-factly. "You always have to choose one over the other," the judgment that is very clearly being made is that women who have to be both a career woman and a mother cannot possibly be good mothers, or good career women. The disturbing part about all of this is not that women who choose to stay home are making a politically incorrect choice. What bothers us is the lack of recognition that is is a very privileged choice. And this article presented women who showed an almost total lack of understanding of this fact. Making matter-of-fact statements that it is impossible and unrealisitc to expect to be a good mother and a career woman screams at low-income and single mothers "Hey! No matter how hard you work, you won't ever be as good at being a mother as we are because we can afford it!" The fact of the matter is that it's not realism telling women they can't do both well: It's women like Ms. Liu and the others quoted in this article spouting the short-sighted and self-aggrandizing career or mother dichotomy.

To close with the words of Rortina, "Q.E.D. MF."

For the whole article check this out.

am i
creating line breaks
here?

What Would Martha Do?

As of late my posting has dropped dramatically in frequency. I am busy. Pretty swamped with work in fact. Although I am stressed, don't get me wrong - I still procrastinate like you wouldn't believe. For some reason, instead of spending my spare moments blogging, I've been addicted to domestic chores.

Case in point: Last night I cooked a relatively elaborate dinner, paprikash to be precise. I followed the cooking with a plant potting session and kitchen-clean up. I looked up muffin recipes. I searched for futon covers online. I made cookies.

Things are getting out of hand and I'm beginning to wonder, is Martha Stewart actually just one of the world's biggest procrastinators?

i am not surly...

and now for another drunk blog...

I am NOT surly.

I am many things. Surly, as it turns out, is not one of them. I am, I must admit, a hopeless fan of TV that should be reserved only for 17-year-old girls.

And I'm not just talking about the OC because, let's be honest, that's in the vein of Dawson's Creek: that excusable sort of bad. The self-referential "wink wink, nudge nudge we're laughing at ourselves as you're laughing at ourselves so we're laughing at you" cyclical humor that makes you want to puke from motion sickness, but doesn't stop you from lining up around the block just to get to the Boalt showing of the first epeisode (Welcome to the premiere, bitches). I'm a fan of One Tree Hill and plan to be an avid viewer of the new show that looks bad enough to be good, The Reuion. Not to mention my lingering longing for the deceased Buffy. So it goes.

But I'm not surly. I'm not. So get off my back already. I'm tired. And I think Surreal Life is about to come on.

can i be your blunk drogger?

This was the question posed to me moments ago by none other than my roommate who is currently noshing on Kashi and breaking it down to some Bel Biv De Voe. Take it away Rordog...

I guess there are four observations that I wouldn like to share with you, dear reader. I'm not sure twhat they are yet, but let's give ita shot....

POINT THE FIRST: I'm not a big fan of Star Trek. I hate to say it, b/c I'm a HUGE fan of the IDEA of Star Trek. I love Next Gerenation (TNG for my fellow nerds). I jsut can't get into other shows. I mean, awesome, they don't have money b/c 'the human race has outgrown it's infancy.' (Comments, Hagan?) But our arch-enemies still have paper plates stuck to their heads. And Romulan Ale tastes like Ass

POINT THE SECOND: I am intoxicated, as is my editor. So, grain of salt

POINT THE THIRD: If any of you out there wonder what the post-revolution dystopia might look like, I reccomend Berkeley. Really excellent.

POINT THE FOURTH, Myra Rubert likes really lame music. I"m not talking about the Shaggy, though that's not so great. And I'm not talking about Boyz II Men. And I'm not talking about The Weather Human, either, sihnce I'm a big fan of the Weather Roommate. I guess it comes down, as it so often does, to Bonnie Tyler. There's a special place in hell for the poetry professor who told me that my work reminded her of Bonnie Tyler, in a good way.

BONUS!!! POINT THE FIFTH: If this is the drunken, slightly less reactionary version of the Becker-Ponser blog, I call Becker. At leas tthe guy's got some training in economics.

- Rordog.

With that from Rordog and this wisdom, "Don't think - just post,'' here's goes.

It was Kerouakian - no don't. It's a "c."

In other news, I received what appeared to be porn in the mail today. I had received Pottery Barn catalogs since moving into my new apartment but Playboy is a whole different story. Perhaps this all stems from the time I gave away my information to Parliament, the cigarette company. Oh the things one does when out and dancing... it seemed like such a good idea.

That's all for now but if someone could tell me if they've received a Playboy catalog recently - that would be awesome. Yeah, thanks.

Allow Myself to Recommend... Myself

It is out of a sense of deep frustration that I turn to blogging this evening. I'm in the process of trying to write a draft recommendation letter, for myself. I have no issue with heaping praise on others. I even tend to be effusive. When writing about myself however I feel like gagging and revert to using the passive voice _all the time_.

But enough about me, seriously. Perhaps I should just conclude this with Roommate Rortina's suggestion: "Finally, she is an ideal candidate for this position because she has an ass that just won't quit."

Brilliant.

Anvils are Awesome

For a moment I entertained the notion of composing this entry like an alphabet book. "Anvils are Awesome... Burgers are not Bogus... etc." Instead, I will allow this short statement to suffice for the issue presented, "Who knew midwestern hardware stores were so hip?"

Anyway, while back in Minneapolis, I went to an amazing event with my dear friend EPS, her husband TS, and her dad, Mike. Garner Hardware Store, an average hardware store that sells the usual mix of sandpaper, tools, paint, caulk, what-have-you, annually drops a whole lot of stuff on one junker car. The climax of this event is the "Anvil Drop." [See this page for an account of a past event.]

The dropping of stuff is preceded by a performance by Savage Aural Hotbed. SAH is a band out of the Minne-apple that plays techno-esque noise on power tools, barrels, and sometimes a bass. SAH also has some extremely cool fans. Almost 100 people came out - in the rain - at 2:00pm on a workday to hear these dudes, quite literally, wail on their axes. I enjoyed watching their fans bob, along with their umbrellas, in time to the music almost as much as I enjoyed watching the anvil actually drop. On another note, a surprising number of SAH fanatics have rat tails or other haircuts that start short but end long. Note, these haircuts are mystifingly distinct from the mullet yet more disturbing. Query, why is this so?

After a sweet set from Savage, a few young, male employees who apparently work at Garner climbed up to the top of the three or four story building that houses Garner Hardware. They brought along a variety of melons, water balloons, eggplants, and the long expected anvil. [If this blog had a soundtrack cue the "Come Thou Long Expected Jesus..." to evoke the joy of Christmas and the holiday sesason.] The excitement in the crowd was palpable as the boys prepared to rain melons down on the car sitting next to the building.

Those of us in the crowds timidly inched away from the car. The melons hit with fury and impunity. The roof of the car caved in. Melon pulp scattered over the crowd. Watermelon landed in my hair and on my shirt. Words cannot describe the exhiliration that came when watching such destruction. Finally, they raised the anvil. This single moment might be enough to convince me to spend next summer interning at Garner Hardware. The anvil TOTALLY crashed through the roof of the car and, get this, all the way down through the floor. Amazing.

To top off the wonder of the anvil droppage, the folks at Garner then proceeded to cut through an entire minivan with a saw. That was also awesome, although loud and lacking in melons. My compatriots scrounged up some free burgers and hot dogs and my friend's dad bought me a commemorative Anvil Drop t-shirt. See it sported proudly by me or jdm. Now... all I need is a rat tail.

games with the fam

Today I bought a dominoes set. It did not come in a cool carrying case like the one I saw at my dear friend's wedding in PA. Apparently, those are hard to come by in Minnesota. Games by James pulled through though and I got a nifty set of 28 dominoes which are, somewhat embarrassingly, colored. They also come in a patriotic tin. I could have done without the flags and the color.

I am, however, way excited to teach my family how to play dominoes. Readers may wonder, "Dirteens, why must you instruct your grown-up kin on how to set up dominoes in a row so you can knock them all down with one flick of a finger?" Dear reader, it is not so simple. The Belizean version of dominoes to which I am now partial is much more math-y.

Now, here I am, twiddling my thumbs, exalting the greatness of dominoes, and waiting for my mother to return home. She is out, attempting to convince my grandmother that she has in fact lived in her nursing home for well over five years now. That has been quite a matter for debate lately.

The truth of that matter is perhaps no less elusive than the meaning of "ensky." My family is way into "Balderdash." It is a cutthroat and often hilarious game with my relatives. My sister informs me that I missed a particularly rousing game last weekend but I thought our game last night was swell. We didn't finish because we decided to watch "NUMB3RS."* "Ensky," incidentally, was my second-favorite word of the evening. It is, oddly enough, a verb. According to Balderdash, it means something like, "to eugugolize a la Derek Zoolander." Google claims that it means "to exalt to the skies; lift to the skies or to heaven with praise." I posited that it meant, "a male matchmaker, cf. yente, fem." I got 3 votes.

By far, the word "mullock" beat out "ensky." It means, "a pile of trash." My brother came up with the best definition _ever_. He said it meant, "a mullet with dreadlocks as the flow, or a 'dreaded mullet.'"

Please, can I see a real live mullock? Maybe at the Minnesota State Fair... if only I were sticking around for that. Mmm. Cheese curds.

* NUMB3RS is the best new TV show out there. I was thrilled to hear that my family loves the show. I watched only the pilot last spring with jdm and leebay. It is something like "Square One" for grownups. Subtract the music video sequences - make the whole thing "Mathnet." Oh man, I hope the first season comes out on DVD.

Girl Crashes: Frightens Sister

At around 11:00am Thursday morning, Dirtina Dirteens, of "For God and Cheese," took an unfortunate spill on her parents' (shared) bicycle. Ms. Dirteens spent the morning biking to Minnehaha Falls with her sister, an avid cyclist. The trip to the falls was pleasant, somewhat physically exerting, and uneventful. As the siblings approached the Tangletown area (Luverne Avenue), things took a turn, quite literally, for the worse. Approaching an intersection, Ms. Dirteens clutched her brakes. Unfortunately, she managed to grasp only the front wheel brake. Unbeknownst to Ms. Dirteens, the bike had an unusually responsive front wheel braking system. Quite suddenly, she flew over the handlebars, and fell, as though in slow-motion on to the asphalt.

The fall happened in a precise sequence: first her left thigh hit the ground, then her hands, lastly, her chin. Dirtina's sister, Lizardo, was later quoted as saying, "It sort of looked like she was doing 'The Worm.' After her chin hit the ground her legs came up all wave, or worm-like. It was sort of sweet."

Fortunately for the Dirteens Sisters, Lizardo is trained in CPR. Even more fortunately, CPR was not necessary, especially since Lizardo's training is long-past expired. Just a few minutes after the spill, the sisters headed for home. Dirtina's nose ran more than usual but other than that, the trip home was safe, if a little slow and cautious.

Upon returning chez Dirteens, Dirtina began cleaning her wounds and icing her bruised chin. Lizardo performed a concussion check and all was well - Dirtina's pupils dilated normally. When Mrs. Dirteens came upstairs she heard some chatter about a fall and had no doubt that it was, indeed, her eldest who had fallen. Dirtina is well-known as the most-dramatic klutz in the family and is recognized as injury-prone in Minnesota and beyond. In fact, to be certain, Lizardo disclaims feeling frightened at the site of the accident. She says, " I was a bit startled though by no means surprised. I thought we might have another broken nose on our hands. But I realized long ago that she's pretty resilient."

Here's to resilience... and John Denver's mullet. In the immortal words of Lizardo, "I'll say his mullet looks pretty resilient, even timeless."

great expectations

It's been quite some time since I've had anything to say on this piece of Internet terrain. To be more precise, it's not that I've had nothing to say, but that I've had no web access or I've fallen asleep before I've started typing. It is truly a thrilling life that I lead. In any event, I also worked up some anxiety about posting. I thought I should write something really compelling to hook readers back in to "For God and Cheese." This nervous feeling is akin to the upset and "butterflies in my stomach" feeling that I get when I think about how I should probably learn how to drive.

Despite all these thoughts, I find myself writing about pretty much nothing on my living room floor in my parents home in Minneapolis. I'm having a swell time here but there is little to report, in this entry at least.

I'll close with my thoughts in the last few minutes...

- Gee, this ice cream tastes kind of freezer-burnt. Not even the yummy blueberries are helping it at all. Oh well - just keep eating, just keep eating.
- Rosie Perez is ridiculously annoying. Holy buckets - SO annoying.
- That guy, "Scarecrow/Dr. Crane" in Batman Begins, really is scary looking. His eyes are extremely creepy.
- It's great that Minnesota has no sales tax on clothing. It's unfortunate, however, that Governor Pawlenty's commitment to imposing no new taxes seems to be pricing Minnesotans out of public higher education.
- Too bad so many people need housing in Berkeley. I'm not sure I really want to be roommates with many of them. I hope that I can say no to a good dozen or so people nicely...
- Is a 7 CD John Denver set really a good hook for folks who might become members of Twin Cities Public Television - i.e., if they purchase a membership they get that as their appreciation gift?

"Hey yous, watch out now, the roads are kinda slippy."

Some reflections on N. East PA:

Coal mining regions are far more beautiful than I had expected.* Pennsylvania sort of evoked a flatter Oregon. It was, to be certain, warmer than the Pacific Northwest though. After a long ordeal involving cancelled flights and the incompetence of US Airways, I stepped outside of the Philly Airport and my glasses fogged up. I hadn't experienced that type of heat and 110% humidity in quite a while. That type of muggy-ness is just disgusting.

The purpose of my trip to PA was my college roommate's wedding. It was the first time I had seen her in over two years and it was wonderful just to be in her presence again. She was completely calm in the midst of chaos, a beautiful bride, a gracious hostess, and is a generally fantastic person. I resolve to visit her more often down in LA (especially once I'm through with school). As a bridesmaid things were also pretty laid back. The wedding party and assorted cousins went bowling (miraculously, I broke 100), we drank ridiculously cheap booze at the bowling alley, we went swimming in a pool with a real live frog in it, and in our baby blue dresses, all of us bridesmaids sweated like hogs. One highlight of the occassion was having more hairspray dumped into my hair than I think has ever touched my hair over the course of my entire life. Thankfully, with my do', I managed to avoid candle flames at the reception which is why I'm here to record these events today.

Some foolhardy(?) ambition...**
Since this post has been relatively diary-esque, I'll close with something equally personal and attempt to attach "For God and Cheese's" first cheesy photo. I'm thinking this might become a regular feature. If this works, you'll be able to see a great glamour shot of me and jdm on the Fourth of July. I appear pregnant, but can assure you I am not. I am just wearing unfortunately bulky layers a top an extremely cold and windy hill.

* On an equally surprising note, coal mines really do look like the mines depicted in Zoolander when Derek returns home.
** And in contrast to ambition, I need only 25 credits to graduate and don't intend to take on more. Here's hoping for a laid back year.

Surf-O-Rama

Now, I don't know about law firms taking summer associates to Tijuana to booze it up and sing karaoke (see infra). I feel that a law firm's money could be spent in a way that would benefit the community in Tijuana in a more positive manner. Perhaps I am too idealistic. On the other hand, I may be hypocritical. I think my firm's recent SURFING trip for summer associates was absolutely fabulous. My upper arms have never been so sore as they were the day after I surfed but the exhilaration of catching waves and actually standing up for a few fractions of a second made it all worth the trip (and the working Saturday).

To top off an excellent surfing experience, after catching waves I drank the first Bloody Mary I actually liked and... appeared in a major lawyer newspaper today. The best tidbits from the article include this quote from the coordinator about how to teach summer associates to surf. He "does what any good lawyer would [do.] '[He drafts] a memo about surfing... And then every year, [He changes] the dates, patch[es] it up and send[s] it back around." As for me, I was quoted as saying, "I'm a Minnesotan, [I hope surfing is] something like sledding."

Another part of the article pictured me, grinning and bearing the weight of the board as I walked in my wetsuit towards the beach. Wetsuits are not so flattering. I never anticipated wearing a wetsuit in my first "paparazzi" moment. Grubby sweats, maybe. A wetsuit, never. I would post the picture, but, in all honesty, it is inaccessible without payment of an absurdly expensive online subscription fee.

In any event, the article went on to talk about some other law firm events including the aforementioned trip to Tijuana. I wonder if any of these summers had experiences like Marissa's TJ OD in the first season of the OC...

"Recently, a group of eight from Baker & McKenzie's Palo Alto and San Francisco offices paid a visit to the firm's San Diego office -- and then headed south of the border with summer associates from that office to visit Baker's outpost in Tijuana.
The trip included an introduction to the office, a talk on efforts to locate new businesses in Tijuana and a Mexican meal, highlighted with karaoke.
Despite some surprise from the summer associates, karaoke is a regular occurrence in Baker's Tijuana office.

"Partners, too, were singing," said [a summer associate]. A couple of tequila shots later, [summer associate] was singing as well, to Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get it On."

Indeed, let's get it on.

Can I get some fries with that shake shake...?

I was walking home tonight from the BART after a lovely dinner with a dear friend from Minneapolis when I was given occassion to appreciate just how much the summer associate life can lead to gluttony, or at the very least, good eatin'. So, I'm walking briskly back to my apartment when two gentlemen slow down to say "Hello." As I pass them by, and they get a look at the other half of me (i.e., the back side of me), one says something I won't repeat for my delicate readers. The other says, "Dang! You look good, keep eating that fine food you've been eating."

Now this comment could lend itself to the interpretation that I had just left a fancy schmancy dinner and was dressed up, as though I had been at Chez Panisse or something. Such was not the case. I was wearing sneakers with the weird leftover work clothes I'm suffering through until my dry cleaning is done. The more apt interpretation of this remark (which was remarkably astute) is that I am indeed eating fine food this summer... and it shows. Awesome insight from an offhand comment. Awesome.

Christmas sweatshirts

To me, a girl who was raised in the stifling humidity of Minnesota summers, one of the wonders of living in Berkeley is the fact that summer is temperate, even cool. Tonight, on the way to "Whole Paycheck" for groceries, I sported my red-orange hoodie as per usual in the evening. Embarassingly, I noted halfway there that my companion, jdm, was sporting a similar green hooded sweatshirt. We looked like dweebs.* Three people laughed at us while crossing the street. Then, on the way back this woman totally blew through her tires when she had to slam on her brakes to avoid running us over in the crosswalk. I saw my life flash before my very eyes. Her tires were totally smoking: serves her right that crazy maniac.

In other news, I am getting a new phone. Soon I will move past my passe Chicago area-code and become one with the 510. For a few days though I will hold on to both numbers just so I can sing, a la Ludacris, that "I've got phones, I got phones, in different area codes, area codes."

I'm off to eat a Frog Hollow peach and return to my work. They are so delicious... holy buckets.

Before I go, note this result when you search for my blog's name on Google.

* jdm contests this assertion. To him, we looked better than twins... we looked like twin elves.

in search of disparaging remarks

Confession: I'm going through a spell of "blog insecurity" lately. For one thing, I never have time to write anything of much substance. When I do get around to writing I tend to create incomplete top 10 lists or I end up relating incoherent tidbits about banana slugs. The problem with "blog insecurity" is that if you write about it, or share it with others, it sounds like a pathetic ploy to milk compliments from readers. Due to this awkward tendency, I implore everyone to refrain from commenting on this post. In the alternative, if you must say something, make it biting. I don't want to seem like a total loser.

Elaboration: Part of my insecurity probably stems from the fact that I've seen so many awesome blogs in recent days. Chief among them is Veiled Conceit which does a fabulous job chronicling and critiquing the NYT weddings and vows page. I laughed out loud reading some of the Veiled posts. I was also thrilled to see that someone else is as enthralled and disgusted by that section. Perhaps someday I will start a thematic blog - that seems to be hot right now. In other news, if I had the energy I would write about the Supreme Court's Gonzales restraining order decision from earlier this week and about the fact that Oprah was apparently dissed by Hermes in Paris. Unfortunately, I haven't had the time to delve into the Gonzales opinion or commentary. I do know that the Gonzales opinion is a dissapointment and will probably write more on that later. As for Oprah's plight, I have little incentive to write about her unfortunate shopping treatment. Sadly, I have not got the money to shop at Hermes so I, personally, won't be boycotting the store anytime soon. To those of you who shop there frequently... think twice.

faux pas

Or more appropriately, how to avoid two (apparently common) faux pas:
1. When commenting on how someone's legs are strong, do not feel their flexed thighs and then tell them to "flex." This will merely expose them to unending insecurity about flabbiness.
2. Also, when someone says the equivalent of "Damn, I think my butt's getting big!" - do not, under any circumstances, unequivocally agree.

Finally, I want to point my dear readers to two awesome things I learned of today.
1. German people gesture to indicate quotation marks in a funny, and somehow sort of dirty way.
2. This blog, Anonymous Lawyer is quite hilarious.

Thank you, and good night.

alaska looks like an elephant

(and seven other not-so-deep thoughts that crossed the space between my ears this weekend)...
8. it's true, if you look at a map of the U.S. and focus in on Alaska, it looks sort of like an elephant's head
7. i saw a real live banana slug in santa cruz this weekend. it was totally sweet.
6. banana slugs look more like yellow jalapeno peppers than bananas, or even plaintains.
5. whole foods makes a pretty good rendition of "cherry garcia," albeit a rendition that is somewhat more fruity and (ever so slighty) less fatty than the original.
4. at first i thought that banana slugs were a pretty ridiculous mascot for a school... then i remembered that "maroons" are even more preposterous.
3. you can make your own chocolate croissant (DIY-style) by inserting hershey's chocolate bars into a plain croissant. it's very satisfying.
2. the word re-rar, should really be used more often.
1. today my waitress took forever to come and take my order and i was like "re-rar!"


And finally, to point to some news that has really got me depressed: Richmond has had eight murders in the past two weeks. This news just breaks my heart.

barely awake but blogging

Written en route to Berkeley from Mpls...

I shouldn't spend 5% of my waning laptop battery charge on pre-blogging while on a flight home, but I don't feel like working on more pressing tasks so, procrastinate I must.

My weekend recap: Before I embark on this oddly personal travelogue I will (bashfully) share some words from… Jennifer Garner in the pages of SELF (the magazine I felt compelled to buy when I couldn't find JANE anywhere in MSP)… From the (paraphrased) mouth of Jennifer: “For me, one of the things that's most important about… relationships is [sharing] in the minutiae of one another's lives.” Like Jennifer, I've found these times (i.e., summer months as of late) to be difficult because every conversation with friends “has to be about catching up.” Perhaps it is that sense of detachment that is subconsciously pushing me to recount my whole weekend for those in the blogosphere. In any event – here goes…

If you’re leaving San Francisco… be sure to pack some food for along the way…
Flew out of SF on Friday night at around 10 p.m. Out of all the airports I’ve visited recently, SFO is truly the pits. Even after spending 12 hours in Albany, NY over New Year's, which was a harrowing and relatively awful experience, I can say with confidence that SFO is one of the most disappointing airports I've been in for quite some time. Yes, it is worse than Albany. Admittedly, some of my disdain is due to the massive construction at the airport but the rest just comes from the natural vibe of the place. The whole airport is inconvenient and usually smells sort of rank. Moreover, the food prices are totally over the top. You'd think that with such little selection vendors might have a heart and lower prices a little bit but NO, they are (behaving like greedy little rational actors and are) out to milk poor travelers for all they're worth. As an illustration, I spent over $10 on one crappy sandwich and a bottle of water. Despite these downsides, I made the most of my time at the forsaken airport by catching up on US Weekly along with all of the clichéd and disturbing news of Tom and Katie, the far inferior "Life in Style" (don’t buy it, there is literally no substance) and the Economist. Question: I wonder if celeb tabloids and the Economist are an unlikely magazine pairing or if many people enjoy my guilty pleasures as well.

Wedding in Indy
Good times were had by all. Although I knew about three people at the event I had a lovely time. The readings at the wedding were darling: Velveteen Rabbit and Shakespeare's Sonnet 116 (?). The bride and groom were fantastic as always and, I must say, the bridesmaids' dresses were cute enough to wear again. I did note, and perhaps this is a misguided observation, that people who went to small liberal arts colleges in the middle of nowhere tend to party harder, drunker, and louder, than most of my friends who have tended to graduate from state schools, nerd emporiums or breeding grounds (i.e. Chicago), or Ivies. I’m sure this mostly stems from selection bias (that is only nerdy nerdalicious nerds choose to go to places like Chicago and as one of those nerds my selection is similiarly biased) and not from actual intrinsic levels of maturity, but this caused me to wonder: Does attending college in (for instance) Nowheresville, PA, naturally instill in alumni an aptitude for crazy dancing, clapping while dancing, and general flirtatiousness?

Northwest Airlines definitely not my fave airline
Oh, NWA, you almost convinced me to get one of your credit cards so I could start accumulating miles to fly home with more cheaply. Now there’s no way. Since when did caterers take over an hour to deliver sodas to a boarded and ready-to-go plane? Since when did you start charging a dollar for sub-par trail mix instead of giving everyone the same mediocre peanuts? Your seats are uncomfortable, your flight attendants mostly unimpressive from what I saw this weekend, and your prices are outrageous. I object.

The best THREE HOUR layover ever!
While at MSP for a long layover I convinced my family to come out and visit. It was so wonderful. They brought me PBJ, yogurt, Dove Chocolate and a water bottle. Everyone came, including my Yia-Yia and my aunt and uncle. My little bro, sadly, was in San Diego en route to Tijuana. As is usual with my family, the whole event was captured on film. My mother even decided that it was critical to document me eating my sandwich. Mouth full and all. These pictures are sure to be fabulous, just like my wacky and delightful clan.

At this point I really must begin doing my work before my battery is completely drained. Adieu.

Darlin' don't you go and cut your hair

I realized something, all over again, when I recently cut my hair. I really chopped a lot of it off and like the results. It was a good move. No matter what though, whenever I get a haircut, I get a little self-conscious. I believe this all stems from the fact that if you change your 'do, and especially if you make a dramatic change, people are almost required to notice. When most people notice drastic alterations, they also feel obligated to voice their opinion. The thing is, no one ever tells you if your haircut is awful. The only thing you can say is when observing someone's new hairtcut is some variation of "I like your new haircut" (to varying degrees of intensity). Because this is the standard, called-for remark, there is really no way of knowing whether people honestly think you look alright, awesome, or totally doofy. This causes me some concern and makes me very bashful. One might think that ignorance, when it comes to knowing what people think of you, is bliss. Au contraire, mes amis, it's nerve wracking.

On a different note, tonight I watched Gilmore Girls for the first time. It was an old episode, second season perhaps (?) when Rory goes to a school dance. I've more or less sworn off the WB since the second season of Dawson's. However, I have heard good things about the WB as of late from people I deeply respect. People who know television. People like M. Rup. and NRF. Nonetheless, I was skeptical of Gilmore Girls. My tredipidation proved me wrong because the show was kind of awesome. I may be back in the WB fold.

The dialogue, as critcs have acclaimed, really is fast-paced, witty, and real. Overall I was struck by the sort of after-school special feeling of the show. Perhaps a regular viewer can confirm or deny whether this is typical of the show as a whole or just intrinsic to the subject matter of this particular episode... On the other hand, the after-school special characteristics of this episode might have been enhanced by the fact that I watched it with a friend and her 14 year old daughter. Viewing the episode in that setting made me want to own the DVDs when I'm a parent someday. I can just envision sitting my little Dirteeny down to watch this very episode the first time she breaks curfew or doesn't come home. It brings a wee tear to my eye.

Finally, to explain my sudden Gilmore Girls attraction I have to confess that I thought the soundtrack was intriguing. The slow dance was not Keith Sweat circa my Junior High days (now remastered on I Tunes which makes me feel OLD... maybe that song was played in 6th grade? My aging memory fails me...), nor was it 98 degrees or whatever the kids are listening to today. No, the slow dance was Mazzy Star "Fade Into You." What an incongruous choice for a slow dance. TV producers, even Josh Schwartz, can't seem to master the art of an accurate school dance track. On GG, "Fade Into You," was followed by another older slow song (possibly) a la Mazzy Star. I searched in vain for this song, I remember it from ages ago, on Google and I-tunes to no avail. This is really bothering me. Please, GG groupies, send me the title of this song. It is a duet with a male and female singer. Although I suck at deciphering lyrics and usually make up my own (e.g., until two years ago I thought "Glory Days" by Springsteen was "Forty Days." For this I blame too many Sunday School lessons that focused on Noah's Ark or Jesus in the wilderness). Despite my tendency to screw up lyrics, I am virtually certain that the woman sings "You ran away but now you're back" at one juncture. My guess is that this song is featured on other soundtracks too. That is all. Please do assist me in my quest. Many thanks.

Party of Five Things

Much to some readers' potential dismay this post will have nothing to do with the show from the Nineties featuring Jennifer Love, Neve, Lacey, and some dudes I haven't seen since. I was not a fan of this show and didn't watch it much so thank your lucky stars that I decided not to write about old episodes. I hold out hope that this post will be more interesting than something about PO5.

The folks over at Nuts and Boaltsbrought this to my attention. The object is to "List five things that people in your circle of friends or peer group are wild about, but you can't really understand the fuss over." As pointed out on Nuts and Boalts, this task is significantly more difficult that addressing generally popular crazes. I tend to appreciate what my friends are crazy about but I will give this challenge a try anyway.

1. Newspapers other than NYT and (well the Chicago Tribune and the Star Tribune) I wish I were smart enough to read papers like the Washington Post or the Financial Times. Confession: I bore immediately at the sight of those peach pages. I suppose most of this probably boils down to an affinity for hometown newspapers but I don't see why I should read anything beyond the New York Times. I'm sure this opinion is open to much critique and ridicule but I posit that all the rest of the news that's worth reading is found within the pages of sweet sweet US Weekly. If I could only find my own insider "source" for celebrity gossip I could stop guiltily stocking up on US and In Touch whenever I'm in an airport. On that note, I'm looking forward to my flights this weekend despite the fact that I'm paying a ridiculous amount for approximately 30 hours in one of my less favorite States. I digress.
2. Gin. I swear it tastes like Pine Sol. Disgusting. Perhaps I and gin are something like the poor souls who detest cilantro and claim they don't have "the gene" for it.
3. Fancy cell phones. It's all about functionality people. With digital cameras who needs crappy picture phones? After all, if you're not in LA you're unlikely to run into any celebs on the street. Also, the advent of digital cameras has done nothing but proliferate the number of crappy photos of me. Somehow, on a digital camera it is easier to catch me chewing, with my butt in the air, or generally looking doofy than with conventional cameras. For that reason, cell phone cameras and fancy phones have got to go.
4. Intellectual Property (or fighting that whole notion of IP). To be honest, I'm starting to get this craze. I definitely respect my friends who study the field and know it well. When I came to Boalt though, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
5. Driving. Although I haven't tried driving since I was 15 in a parking lot with an ex, I stand behind my assertion that driving is overrated. While public transportation can be smelly and inconvenient, it instills great virtues of patience, focus, and navigation in its devoted users. I wouldn't trade my AC Transit for a car and am proud of my little baby bike too. Not many of my friends in the Bay Area, or in Minneapolis for that matter drive often, but I am one of the few and proud who don't drive at all. [Hopefully, this will change soon. I've got to learn but want to go out proud.]

trendsetting

I have never been much of a trendsetter. I never wore a Generra Hypercolor t-shirt in elementary school; never had Guess jeans until they were no longer cool; and I definitely never got to wear British Knight sneakers. In my own way I thought I was awesome in my raspberry colored Converse hi-tops but I was never a "cool kid."

My lack of trendiness carried into High School, College, and beyond. I was way behind the curve on getting a cell phone. again, I thought I was hip for holding out but... in reality I was just out of touch and hard to reach.

Now, I am considering purchasing an i-pod. Until thursday, I thought that _perhaps_ I had hit a trend somewhere near its inception, i.e., early enough to be halfway edgy and noticable. Unfortunately (?), on Thursday I was heading home from work on the BART and sat down in one of those groups of four seats across from a woman with an i-pod. During my recent commutes I have discovered two species of i-pod owners. First, there are the indie kids who are probably rocking out to the Postal Service on their way to a consulting or tech job. Then, there are the older (usually) male professionals who I imagine listen to the Boss or jazz on their way to bank or litigate. My fellow commuter on Thursday was of a whole new breed. She was middle-aged, matronly and carried a cheap knockoff purse. Unlike my "Prado" it was lumpy, brown and relatively un-cute. To my great surprise, in her purse were two "Pink" CDs. She had her i-pod cranked up and was totally dancing along to that terrible music. It was awe-inspiring and ridiculous. It also defeated all of my hopes of breaking into the i-pod trend on the early side. Alas, I am not meant to be cool.

[Sidenote: Who thought it was a good idea to _carpet_ BART? Public transportation naturally tends to the smelly. Carpet retains odors. Together, carpet and trains make one nasty combination. I miss the in-your-face dirt of the CTA and the unmasked dirt on those linoleum floors. CTA definitely smells more often than not but the smells aren't as stale as the ones on the BART.]

[Endnote: Maybe I wasn't allowed to wear British Knight shoes because of their reputed gang connections? That's about as unlikely as the rationale for prohibiting my burning desire to have a golden front tooth... Also, anyone know what size 4.5 (British) is in American shoes? There's a sweet pair of BK trainers on eBay...]

some scattered thoughts and observations over the past few days

10. My reaction to the following comment = possibly a little overboard: Overheard in reference to either Sandra Day O'Connor or Ruth Bader Ginsburg - "You know, I never hear much about her husband. He must be really confident to marry a woman like her. I mean, can you imagine having to say, 'Yeah, my wife's a Supreme Court Justice?'" Perhaps it's this attitude and this sort of male anxiety about being a breadwinner that keeps corporate America looking the way it does.
9. Biased comments from a former vegetarian: I think, in some cases but not all, people go vegan because it gives them something to talk about... all the time. Needless to say that is sort of a pet peeve. A friend offered another interpretation which I also find valid. She thought that the choice to go vegan and consequent obsessive chatter about that choice can be a good cover for a serious eating disorder. GP.
8. Wine tasting snobbiness from a 2 buck chuck girl at heart: Napa ain't got nothing on Sonoma. Although I visited Sonoma with my darling roommates on a weekday, which automatically gave it an edge over crowded Napa on Saturday, in my opinion Sonoma is sweeter, smaller, greener, and in most cases tastier than Napa.
7. Cowboy Ninja Bear: Deserves the hype. Courtesy of this site the rules of the game are: i) Cowboy beats Bear (because of his pistol), ii) Ninja beats Cowboy (his stealth allows him to kill the Cowboy in his bunk), and iii) Bear beats Ninja (it's a bear, end of story).
6. Possibly the sweetest website ever: One of my former economics professors, Steve Levitt, has been getting a lot of favorable press on his new book, "Freakonomics." I hope to read it soon so I was checking out more reviews on the book's home page. On that page there was a link to his blog which took me to this phenomenal site, The Baby Name Wizard. I could play with this gadget for hours. You type in names (even just the first few letters to see a cluster) and can gauge the popularity of the name over the past century of American babymaking history. Dirtina did not make the list. Dirk, its closest cousin peaked in the 1960s at number 471. I was disappointed to see that my choice name for a potential future daughter is on the upswing but happy to note that the probable name of my first born son is still pretty darn archaic.
5. I should stop playing with this name generator and help jdm pack his room in boxes.
4. I am hungry so I'm going to stop now.
3. This top ten list will remain incomplete. Sorry.

things are looking up

posting about less than wonderful occurences in my life has taught me a new lesson. don't write about things online that worry your friends and family. while i greatly appreciate the concern expressed by lizardo and some other dear ones, please, rest assured that i am doing better than when i last posted

on that note, i have decided to write very little about anything serious and will instead highlight a blog i recently stumbled upon. i'll also give you all a little insight into what i have been eating lately. i do this because i know you care.

and BLOGGER JUST STOLE MY post again...

in my frustration and sleepiness i will not tell you about the deliciousness of creme fraiche pancakes at la note in downtown berkeley. although my dad's breakfast conconctions take the proverbial cake these are a close second. likewise, i won't tell you all about the wonders of thai temple brunch in front of the berkeley tool lending library. you'll never get to hear about just how phenomenal mango sticky rice is on a sunday morning.

what you, dear reader, will get is just one link to a blog that inspired all of these aborted gustatory reflections. eat your heart out.

"Dirtina and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Day"

my day started off relatively well. stress-free commute. sunshine.
even at lunch things were going all right. one pesky pigeon kept trying to get a piece of my chicken sandwich but other than that it was actually pretty swell. it even closed with gelato. can't complain.
shortly after this little lunch it went seriously down hill.

i feel totally and stressfully swamped at work.
i hit my head (really hard) on my desk when i bent over to pick up the code books that had just fallen from my shelf, on to the table, and on to the floor, nearly spilling my coffee all over my work.
as a result of this mishap my head hurts. in addition to the attractive bump on my forehead, i spent awhile sobbing on the phone with my mom later (related primarily to other events see infra) and now have dried out and bleary eyes as a nice accessory for the forehead fashion.
i came home exhausted to find that my key doesn't work in the deadbolt. i was locked out.
i waited for the locksmith freezing, hungry, and badly needing to pee for about 40 minutes.
my partner (and not the one at the law firm - the one known as jdm) has mono.
one of my great-uncles died.

so here i am whining, when things are actually much worse for other folks and people i love.
i hate feeling like my mood is on a sinking, downward spiral.

i want to go to bed.

Are you there God? It's me, Dirtina.

Ever since my early days in college my aunt has provided me with an annual subscription to Vogue. It's a wonderful gift as it's truly the gift that keeps on giving: it arrives every month, and so far, without fail. It's also an improbable gift for a girl like me. I'm no fashionista. I shop the sales rack, or Goodwill. The only time I've come close to touching anything couture-esque was when I tried on a fetching Marc Jacobs miniskirt at Century 21. I balked at the skirt's $90 price tag and settled instead for the (now infamous) G-unit camisole. In any event, my monthly mag is a lovely guilty pleasure.

Today on my commute home from work I was paging through Vogue and came across a surprising ad. Random House Publishing is sponsoring a contest to promote what appears to be the reissuing of the entire Judy Blume canon. For starters, this is a weird advertisement for Vogue. It's definitely something of an outsider in a magazine that is chock-full of Prada, Tiffanys, and Cadillac. It reads at the top "ARE YOU PART OF GENERATION BLUME?" After some glowing reviews of Blume's books it explains that "one grand-prize winner will win a trip to have lunch with Judy Blume." The contest entails writing a 250-word essay on which Judy Blume book had the biggest impact on your life and how it affected you.

I had never considered myself to be a member of "Generation Blume." I was more of a Laura Ingalls Wilder, Encyclopedia Brown, Anastasia Krupnick, and Madeleine L'Engle fan. However, looking back on the Blume memories I do have, a few were somewhat formative. I read "Deenie" when bored one day at my grandparents' house as a preteen. It was, bizarrely, the only book I could find in their house that wasn't on Orthodox theology or WWII. It actually seemed pretty adult to me then since it addressed scoliosis and masturbation. As a younger kid I also recall reading, but not really enjoying, the Superfudge books. The only Blume book that spoke to me was "Are you there God? It's me Margaret?" The first time I read it I was unimpressed. Then, as a first year at Chicago my roommate decided to hold storytime every night with some of our favorite housemates. Our literary choice was none other than "Are you there God?" It was a hit. Irreverent and nostalgic, we filled our evenings with the trauma of bra-stuffing in place of Calculus and stupid dating drama.

Thank you Vogue, thank you Random House and thank you Judy B for this unexpected trip down memory lane. Perhaps if I find time (which I would have more of if Blogger would stop eating my posts) I'll enter this little contest. I could use a free trip to NYC.

[Note: Hallelujah - I'm back on wireless. Procrastination and posting - here I come.]

CLASS: the OC and being a summer associate

tonight's season ending episode of the OC was totally insane. without giving too much away, suffice it to say, that in the real world, for what marissa cooper just did she would likely end up in the California Youth Authority. fortunately for her, she's richer than rich and will surely buy herself out of doing any time. of course she'll be represented by sandy and things will turn out fine. maybe somehow she'll prevail on an unlikely but successful "defense of third persons" theory. other theories, including battering and its effects, seem like longshots and the prosecution could probably rip them to shreds. hopefully, sandy's near certain defense of marissa will bring him back to the public defenders office. then the OC at Boalt's fellowship, "The Sandy," might inspire even more attention and donations.

reflecting on the romances between sandy and kiki, caleb and julie, and ryan and marissa (and marissa and DJ for that matter) brought me to a recent series of articles in the NYT. the series is on class and thus far (i've only skimmed) but i've found it compelling. the suggested readings are also quite good - i highly recommend the biting and humorous Paul Fussell book "Class: A Guide Through American Status Systems."

although the OC does a relatively wretched job problematizing notions of class and especially race (see e.g., the only roles which people of color have played being teenage mother and high school dropout, gardener, highschool principal [as somewhat of an outlier], and as of tonight, drug dealers), it is perhaps quite accurate that such issues are swept under the rug on a routine basis. from the most recent NYT piece on cross-class marriages:

Marriages that cross class boundaries may not present as obvious a set of challenges as those that cross the lines of race or nationality. But in a quiet way, people who marry across class lines are also moving outside their comfort zones, into the uncharted territory of partners with a different level of wealth and education, and often, a different set of assumptions about things like manners, food, child-rearing, gift-giving and how to spend vacations. In cross-class marriages, one partner will usually have more money, more options and, almost inevitably, more power in the relationship.

It is not possible to say how many cross-class marriages there are. But to the extent that education serves as a proxy for class, they seem to be declining. Even as more people marry across racial and religious lines, often to partners who match them closely in other respects, fewer are choosing partners with a different level of education. While most of those marriages used to involve men marrying women with less education, studies have found, lately that pattern has flipped, so that by 2000, the majority involved women, like Ms. Woolner, marrying men with less schooling - the combination most likely to end in divorce.

this is both fascinating and sad. class and caste are so entrenched in american society and with the costs of (even) public education skyrocketing, soon yet more people will be priced out of anything beyond a high school education. i may have found a new crusade? all of this (sorry for being so disjointed) also caused me to think a bit about my summer corporate job. without waxing poetic or saying much more - i am a bit uncomfortable with it all. everything is SO nice. i haven't paid for lunch yet whereas last summer it was treat and big expense to buy myself a $2 sandwich. people i've met recently have criticized the (admittedly dirty and run-down) downtown SF greyhound station, on multiple occassions. i find it hard to join in these conversations since that station is home to at least a few of my former clients.

on a lighter note, some of my summer thus far has still been on par with my budget last year at this time. i've slept in a sleeping bag - or on a bare mattress the past three nights, but only because i'm moving. my fridge is busted. i still take the cheap bus. my summer soundtrack tonight includes my roommate packing and listening to sublime. that band, however, is reminiscent not of last summer but of a relationship in 10th grade.

speaking of relationships, i should have spent the time i spent rambling here catching up on emails that have been waiting for responses for weeks. if you are waiting on an email from me, my apologies. next week - i promise i'll work on that task. for now, if you'd like, respond with your reflections on class, your predictions for sandy's defense of marissa, and/or your favorite music from sophomore year of high school.

alive and caffeinated

monday i started my summer job and i've been trying to move all at the same time. it's been hectic. mad props to castro and manceratops for helping me out yesterday. sorry for all the dust. i wish i had free coffee at home instead of a stinky fridge and malfunctioning dryer. the perks of firm life are varied and plentiful. more on that later. anyway, i wanted to let anyone who was looking for new material know that i am still here. soon, i'll be back on a regular basis. perhaps, if i can't sleep i'll even be back soon.

the ULTIMATE commercial

i spent the last couple days tasting wine in the lovely russian river valley near lake sonoma. it was almost too good to be true. it was definitely indulgent, extremely relaxing, and far more chi-chi-la-la than anything i ever anticipated doing at age 23. my roommates and i got all dressed up, we ate amazing homemade tamales, had a cathartic cry at dinner, gorged on olives and cheese, and even listened to surprisingly good radio. it included pat benatar and journey (twice). all was blessed and all was right with the world. the truly amazing thing was that we didn't spend much money. one of my awesome roommates got us a deal at her parents' timeshare so we cooked some meals for ourselves and spent about $10 on lodging. i wish i had one more week of this before starting work.

anyway, although i should probably write about wine, instead i bring you a commercial from "Michelob Ultra". i cannot begin to express how hilarious i find michelob ultra. the fact that they market this BEER as a sports beverage is quite amusing. it seems that they are trying to get their consumers to believe that by drinking their beer they will develop not beer guts but the impeccably tanned and toned "six-packs" featured in their advertisements. the simple gym workouts never spoke to me but now that they've included a ridiculously silly game of ultimate in their ads - i might be persuaded to try this (in all likelihood) foul beverage. note how people are playing ultimate in virtually no clothing which would suck to layout in, note the fouls, the silly showboating, and the fancy and improbable passes. my friend MC putt-putt also pointed out the fact that there was no line call. as if that would happen in ultimate - ever. oh no, people would squabble and moan about the call for a loong time. how i miss this sport.

i'll have document review and a deposition to go

although i am excited to go shopping today for corporate clothing and i am looking forward to my summer job, i would prefer to spend my money on say, an iPod, sneakers, or non-fancy clothes.

while musing about this i started to think about the benefits of uniforms. while i've never had to wear one, for school or any of my jobs (with the exception of SW Community School where i had to wear their sticky 50-50 t-shirts while teaching candlemaking of all things in horribly humid July), i think uniforms have some distinct advantages. if i could wear a something like a fast food uniform of a polo shirt and ill-fitting pants to work every day this summer i would save even more money. perhaps firms could express their character through their uniforms - it would add in yet another variable to those OCIP bidding decisions.

whew

after a brief blogging hiatus which involved the heart-wrenching editing of a painful 48 hour take-home exam along with healthy doses of chorizo, gelato, and vodk-o (with an "o" it sounds like a Shop-Ko version of the Russian staple or like my lovely "designer" handbag - "Prado") - i am soon to be a 3L. it is good to be done. tomorrow i'm off to the mall and then to wine country for roommate bonding. at some point i will put my life in boxes for the summer and move. hopefully, in the process i will further streamline my earthly possessions. going shopping tomorrow will surely impede my progress on that front.

some links i visited recently which are worthy of checking out:

artmuck (some posts by a childhood friend now located in chicago)
kill the vultures (the newest release by a childhood friend now located in chicago)

and, in case you didn't see this coming - proof that i (sort of) wish i were located in chicago...
note: chicago was my best fit even though i indicated that fitness is important to me (and we all know chi-town is phat, i mean fat) and even when i put the west as my preference instead of the midwest.




>

American Cities That Best Fit You:

80% Chicago

65% Los Angeles

65% Philadelphia

60% Honolulu

55% New York City

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

after school specials

If an episode of the OC ever needed some preachy advice-giving or should have offered episode-ending referrals, it was this one. In my opinion Sandy should have mentioned RAINN and for Kiki's sake Alcoholics Anonymous. I think I'm still experiencing secondary trauma. The episode was so intense. I'd offer you predictions about the next episode but I fear spoiling things for readers who haven't yet seen tonight's show.

In other news, the always wily jdm beat me to the punch but if someone can explain the value of my "blogShares," I'd really appreciate it. I am oddly inspired to do whatever I can to raise this piece of cheese's value.

2 finals down - one (annoyingly two-part) final left to go.

one year of "care not cash"

today marked the one year anniversary of mayor newsom's "care not cash" program. i happened to catch a glimpse of an article on point in the SF examiner while waiting in line at the post office. later, i picked up my own copy. "notably," the examiner's front page advertised a story about "what's on the mayor's iPod." the short story on care not cash was on page four and unfortunately, critiques of the program were given short shrift. newsom is patting himself on the back for cutting cash aid to SF general assistance recipients and is busily lauding the fact that about 800 GA recipients have been placed in permanent housing.

last i heard, GA rolls post-CNC haddrastically declined. however, the actual statistics do not reveal such a glowing picture of people getting housed. rather, the numbers seem to indicate that in the first six months of CNC's implementation, the department of human services actually lost over half of their "active homeless clients.'' meanwhile, only 493 of the 2,497 clients who were on GA in april 2004 had moved into housing as of october 2004. [to check out these numbers click on the link above and open the "care not cash monthly statistical report - march 2005"].

i think a healthy dose of skepticism is in order when it comes to newsom's policy on homelessness. right now i'm too disheartened to say much more. for more critique see this article.

blogger's "recover post" feature is a LIE

i'm super frustrated right now because blogger promised to recover my lost posts and it failed. boo.

tonight's episode of ANTM was actually quite good. admittedly, i would have been entertained by anything other than my take-home exam which has been staring me down from the face of my normally friendly laptop all day. despite my (generally) low standards for television and in particular UPN, this episode had a lot to offer.

for one thing, the contestant judging contestant feature exposed a lot of character and attitude. the two highlights of the show were brittany's hot mud shot and the fact that christina was finally eliminated. keenyah's snotty 'tude vindicated my general dislike for her. previously, my only real reason for disliking keenyah was her oddly crooked jawline. i, with my doubly-broken nose, am certainly not the right person to call someone out for facial asymmetry. however, i am not trying to become america's next top model. i fail to understand how tyra's silly judges have not recognized her bizarre jawline protrusion. evidence of this phenomenon is all over the internet. see e.g., television without pity, seven caged tigers, girl genius.... i grow weary of compiling citations but offer one "but see" elle.com for a short but favorable assessment of keenyah's jaw.

and, in case anyone cares, my bet is that keenyah is next to go. moreover, naima will definitely win now that her personality is shining through and the producers showed photos of her as a little girl. this was just the type of foreshadowing the producers used with eva last season. now if covergirl would just cancel eva's contract i'd be pleased as punch. those "day in the life" commercials are so annoying.

to drink or not to drink: also some thoughts on "diversity"

i was so wiped out today. over the weekend i studied to a point of exhaustion and overload for my exam yesterday. despite my best efforts to prepare adequately, it was totally and awfully difficult. today my brain was still fried so i ran errands most of the day. i went down to fourth street on my bike which was lovely. i wrapped a present in brown paper. i made a cd filled with songs for moving. i drank a homemade smoothie with pomegranate juice as a super secret and tasty ingredient. i "studied" in north berkeley and borrowed a dollar for coffee from a liquor store employee who, despite his best efforts, did not convince me to drink wine while "preparing for my take-home exam." i had entered the store, cash poor, in search of an ATM thinking that virtually all liquor stores house ATMs along with their selections of fine wine, cheap 40s, courvoisier, jager. some liquor stores even have ATMs which will read and withdraw cash from food stamp EBT cards. sadly, these are the sort of ATMS that also tack on at least three dollar service charges. this liquor store, in contrast to its peers, had no ATMs of any variety. the kind clerk suggested that i purchase some alcohol and get cash back. i declined. he offered to buy me the coffee i so desired and i declined again. finally, i was persuaded to borrow a dollar so long as i would buy the coffee from the small place next door and smuggle it to the larger shop down the street with better seating. this turned out to be excellent advice. the coffee from the tiny shop was both cheaper and more delicious than the joe next door.

my day continued, more or less uneventfully. i'll spare you the details but close with some thoughts from a former RA on university housing. just today i read an article in the "maroon" about one of my many former dormitories. in it, broadview was (somewhat) accurately described as a "insular lunatic themed" dorm. although i agreed with the general characterization of broadview, i can't stand behind the rest of the article which lambasts multicultural housing for enforcing segregation. the author's call for diversity as part of the "college challenge" is all well and good but seems to place an undue burden on students of color to be the token faces of diversity for "stuck-up Manhattan girls." this seems misplaced and would appear to equate all people of color by saying that viewpoints within minority communities are all the same, and that diversity cannot exist among ethnic groups. since these multicultural houses, at cornell and, i believe, at berkeley too, are open to anyone - i can't see a problem with them. if multicultural housing is really going to lead campuses down the path of resegregation, concerned folks like this author can simply move in. for more on this topic look here.

tatted: from thug to hug life

an old ultimate compatriot once closed his emails with the tag line "hug life: nobody's perfect but we do OK." i was thinking about the origins of the phrase "hug life" and my train of thoughts brought me to Tupac. 2-Pac had some vicious tattoos. my personal favorite was the large "THUG LIFE" tatted across his abs. check out some pictures here and here. i learned from these fine sites that the "I" in "Life" is actually a bullet.

in any event, i've thought about getting a tattoo for a long time. unfortunately, i made the mistake of disclosing my best idea to someone who later returned to show me my tattoo on her cliched ankle. that killed that plan.

with the knowledge that i will never actually get this tattoo i'll disclose a recent idea. (you probably saw this coming.) drawing my inspiration from 2-Pac i'd like to get a huge tattoo on my abs in gothic letters that reads "hug life." that would be beyond hot.

my urban superiority complex: st. louis park is NOT minneapolis

after an inspiring conversation with a professor yesterday i believe i have solved my course conundrum for next year. why should i suffer through estates and trusts when: a) allegedly i've already learned some of the material in California Marital Property; b) the class is from 6:00-9:00pm - an ungodly time to be at school; c) the course will be taught for the bar exam; and d) it sounds ridiculously boring? at first, estates & trusts seemed like a great idea because it would be a class that entailed little work and would allow me to devote more time to intense classes like tax. now i've realized that i have only two semesters left in school. i'm going to take classes that actually interest me. hah! i can indulge my interests, get a JD, and (God willing) pass the bar.
hopefully, in line with this plan, i'll get into a new class on the suburbs. i have grown up as such an "urban" snob. although minneapolis is by no means a bustling (or unsegregated) metropolis, i took great pride in the fact that i grew up "in the city" instead of in a suburb. i still really value my childhood home because i had the benefit of living in a neighborhood with great public schools, very few chain & big box stores, and convenient public transportation. i still resent when people ask me where i'm from and when i reply "minneapolis," they say, "oh, i know someone from minneapolis. they live in [roseville, edina, st. cloud]. where exactly are you from?"
although i have this lingering superiority complex about being from a city - my thoughts have changed some in recent years. for one thing, i live in a suburb now. also, it's common knowledge that in minneapolis, and elsewhere, inner cities are rapidly gentrifying. renovated and refurbished lofts are cropping up everywhere. warehouse districts are hot. this trend is pushing poor folks out to the first and second ring suburbs and beyond. for some statistics on point check out this article. i want to learn more about how this has impacted voting, affordable housing, the environment, and service delivery. how have non-profits (especially legal non-profits outside of the bay area) responded to this shift in localized poverty? my hunch (and observation) is that direct service agencies have been slow to catch up.

OC outage outrage

for me (and probably many of us) it is always distressing to see GW on primetime television. either a national catastrophe has occured or the state of the union is interrupting perfectly good programming. (there are exceptions to this general rule: i was addicted to the presidential debates which were admittedly broadcast during primetime)

tonight, el presidente's face on my TV signified something new and horrible. our president held a press conference over the OC. i was dumbfounded. shaken to my core. all week i had been looking forward to the new episode. with nothing but the rules of impeachment and rehabilitation to inspire me during the day i needed some drama between some sandy and kirsten, some hot trey action...

even more distressing than the preemption of the show in the first place was the fact that it all seemed entirely unnececssary. first, gas prices aren't my thing. i don't drive. i can't drive. i should probably try to care more (and in reality, i do) but tonight i am bitter. [note to self -- i should also get my driver's license.] secondly, my roommate noted these words on the top left hand side of the TV screen during the presidential address: "LIVE - recorded earlier."

now what in the world does that mean? how is something "live" if it was in fact recorded earlier in the day? why, WHY, did stupid FOX have to show this tape during MY show?

enough - back to the books.

live!

Why is it that people who either never talk or typically ask insightful questions decide that review sessions are the perfect time to ask INANE questions? I suppose the empathetic answer is that these people are anxious but seriously, can we curb asking totally obvious questions? If the Professor gives you a handout about what the rules for the exam will be, read the freaking handout before asking if it means what it says. Oy!

cooptation

one of the problems with blogging is that if you deem to write about something other than yourself, such as current events, you have to move fast. if you don't post quickly you run the risk of being old news. with that duly noted i will write on a current event. because i don't feel like i have much time, this likely won't be all that thoughtful...

this past sunday was "Justice Sunday" for folks affiliated with Focus on the Family and Family Research Council. apparently it was also "Justice Sunday" for "people of faith" in the Heartland who are realizing that "actions in Washington have a direct impact on their lives." without getting into the deeply troubling notions of the campaign against filibustering and the misplaced concerns about judicial activism, let's stop with the words -- "Justice Sunday."

i am blown away by the fact that these judicial activists are claiming "justice" as their own. on a larger scale i am outraged by how a certain right-wing faction of Christians have laid claim to my faith. my faith which i hope is not so essentializing, which i hope humanizes and helps me to see God in others, and that tends to favor non-interference with the State. what's harder about all of this, on a personal level, is that in one-on-one conversations i am more hesitant than ever to bring up the fact that I'm a Christian. it's as though (at least in Berkeley) i'm hiding a dark secret.

on that depressing note, i'll add another. i think i lost my watch. this is also distressing though not as much as the Religious Right.

and the award for...

worst "you're on hold" music ever goes to...

alameda county department of child support services. No, you couldn't just play elevator music, you had to add the world's cheesiest lyrics. Why did you make me wait to speak to an operator for so unbearably long??

study break

Take my Quiz on QuizYourFriends.com! Please note that in one part of this quiz I erroneously used the name "Emily" to refer to myself. I got the link to the site where you can create these quizzes from Emily S and used a few of her questions as starting points for my own. For purposes of this quiz, consider Emily to be one of my (many) aliases.

ligers, and panples, and porn-viruses oh my!

a few things:
1. see infra comment from my sis at previous post regarding the link i sent her from reputable (?) news source (ABC) proving that the liger actually exists. Now, although I didn't believe the Liger actually existed when I saw Napoleon Dynamite, I never would have believed that the "Tigon" (when the mother instead of the dad is the ligon) was also real. Despite the awesomeness of the Liger and Tigon, the Wholphin was even more astounding.
2. I really don't want this piece of web-space to devolve into postings solely devoted to my favorite TV shows. However, that desire won't stop me from referring to the OC tonight. A-mazing episode. Zach is the reincarnation of Oliver, minus the mental illness and guns. [I almost said minus the violence but we all remember when he punched Seth earlier this season...] Kirsten is emulating her son in her self-absorbtion and ridiculous crushes. I understand that she is probably still hurting from Sandy's dalliance with his old flame Rebecca, but please - Carter? He is incredibly lame and his silly nose moves every time he talks. I could go on but I'd rather end with this astute observation from my future roomie - "Zach aka Prince Humperdink."
3. Almost every day I thank God for my Macintosh. [I would say every day but for the fateful afternoon in Contracts last Spring when my screen went all Matrix on me right before finals. Turned out the "logic board" was cracked. My computer took a quick jaunt down to Virginia and came back days later clean as a whistle and working perfectly. I guess that's another good reason to love Apple.] Oh, i-book, why are you so good to me? I bring this up not just because Panther comes out in 8 days but because one of my PC using friends has a porn-virus infesting her computer. She as much as turns it on and some seriously disturbing images infiltrate her screen. This doesn't make much sense to me. Admittedly, I haven't seen the images, but I don't know why this type of spyware or virus or whatever seemed like a good idea. What revenue would hackers get from such a device? What's the motive behind this?
4. Finally, I thought I was done with the OC but I'm not. You've got to love a show that helps you "review" for Professional Responsibility and Evidence all in one little episode. Sandy acted as a negotiator, an advisor, and of course, a key player in a sting operation. Trey's statement to the police appeared to be an admission, and probably a declaration against interest. Finals HHere I come.

i am not a hipster and i miss home

Certain blog servers allow you to post what hot tunes you happen to be listening to while you blog. That feature fails to impress me. Although I appreciate knowing what sort of mood my fellow bloggers happen to be in, it seems like a shameless way to display hipness. Since I tend to post when I am fully exhausted I am typically listening to one of two things as of late: Evan Dando or Caedmons Call. In anticipation of "Lila Sings to Jesus" I have also been partaking of some Donnie McClurkin. Now that we have that out of the way, none of you will ever have to hear about my unremarkable musical taste again. (Who am I kidding, I can make no promises but... I can guarantee that you will not have frequent updates. This is because I care. And probably because I am bashful about my unhipness.)

Snooping around online today while I should have been studying I came across two blogs of some pals from Mpls (see links to Mr. $elb and Berge Dynamite). It was so wonderful to get a brief glimpse into the daily lives of folks I miss. Reading their posts made me miss home. I am nostalgic for lakes, for melting snow (note: definitely NOT snow itself), and for the comfort of a neighborhood that I saw change for 17 years. The only perceptible change I have observed in Berkeley over the past year and a half is the advent of more and more Bubble Tea Chains. I think, after close and scientific survey studies, that Q-Cup really is the best. Something about their tapioca is sweeter than the other places.

Speaking of food, awhile ago jdm wrote about his penchant for oatmeal with... cheese. I love cheese. Make no mistake about it, I adore cheese. However, I cannot support eating cheese with just anything. Oatmeal is among the substances that I think should stay far from the fromage. However, in an effort to seem less judgmental I will share one of my new and odd favorite snacks: peach-applesauce with whipped cream. It is so so good. Try it. If you cannot track down chi chi organic peach & applesauce probably any applesauce will do.