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.