Odds and ends

1. The building is experiencing another brownout. This happens too often for my liking. Damn you PECO! You ruined my shower! Rassin' Frassin' water pressure.

2. I am still totally elated re: finishing grad school. WOO!

3. I totally need a job. Even a crappy job.

4. I am baking gingerbread today. This might be a mistake.

5. I will have to double-check the openness of the Chinese place downstairs for tomorrow's Jewish-Christmas.

Holy flurnking schnit.

I am done.

DONE.

As soon as that piece of paper shows up in the mail...

I am a Master. Of Arts.

I AM DONE WITH GRADUATE SCHOOL!

Well duh

You don't win anything if you keep putting money in the slot machine.

Dummy.

It is gonna be a loooong week. Lots of writing, preparing a presentation, working on a term paper which I have not yet started (although the presentation will be a kick in the pants), changing my residency status (so much paperwork!), getting in (dog willing) to the cert program, and not seeing Damien until friday.

This normal relationship is turning me into a softie. The long-haul periods I used to put up with? They are difficult now. A few days is difficult :P

Crockpot teriyaki chicken tonight. Hope it doesn't suck!

On another note, it is VERY cold outside.

Bright Lights, Atlantic City

I have been a busy girl as of late. All maintaining a social life, going to New York for a couple days, and oh yes, my computer DYING. Thank dog I have a sweet (if dirt cheap) laptop to save my ass, and a valiant effort made by Damien to fix the damn broken hard drive. He thankfully was able to recover my documents, but pretty much everything else? Bye-bye.

No more photoshop, no more sig pics. :(

Damien and I are going to fabulous Atlantic City this friday, actually staying the night in a cute (and by "cute" I mean large) boutique hotel - the Chelsea, if you're interested - and throwing away what will be absolutely no more than $40 on the penny slots. I am praying that I will not be stupid enough to forget my cancer-sticks and end up buying a $10 pack at the nearest casino. I really, really need to quit. But in a casino? Which is like a giant ashtray? It will be a challenge.

The theme...

Damien got me hooked on some Toto.

And I think this song is how I am feeling...

I'll Supply the Love

There's a cool prog-esque synth progression at the end... which is to say nothing of the sweet vocals in this one.

Much <3, honey.

Insanity!

1) Obvious joy at having found a wonderful gentleman. I am loving the nerd factor. I FINALLY beat him at Scrabble the other day (on some jerk-words, like the ones he occasionally uses). On two consecutive nights, we watched Star Trek IV (the one with the whales), and Star Trek II (Wrath of Khan), and he seems to tolerate my love for Chekov. Of course, now we keep saying "nuclear wessels" to each other. If you do not get this, you should be thankful. It will genuinely be tough to go home for Thanksgiving, because it means 5-6 days without seeing him. So this is what a "normal" relationship feels like.

2) I am loving the hell out of my crock pot. Except for the fact that 90% of recipes seem to involve beans, cheese, butter, or cream-of-something soup. I can't eat those things, people! Why the dearth of relatively healthy eats for the slow-cooker? I have been making lean-beef stew, which is not unhealthy, thank god, and I made some kind of lemon-garlic chicken and rice the other day, which was okay, but too lemony, perhaps. Next: chicken in marinara sauce. Couldn't be possible to screw that up.

3) Home stretch at school. On December 17th, my final paper for 19th century lit is due. I am terrified, because I am SO close to graduation that I can taste it (figuratively). I will have a MASTERS in like, a month. That blows my mind.

4) Teaching stuff... I have a math CLEP test to take on Friday because I have exactly 3 college math credits to my name (earned with AP calculus in high school) and I need 6 in order to get into the certification program. I am a math tutor (granted, the math on the SAT gets no more difficult that maybe 10th grade level at highest), but I am frightened by the prospect of having to remember how logarithms work. I have been studying off the internets, and this stuff is slow to come back. That said, I think I will probably pass (need a 50 of 60), and then I will likely get into the program. Which makes me happy, because it means I will have a future.

5) My finances are running low. A lot of my money was invested in Citigroup, which is worth about $10 a share now. It was around $50 a share like 18 months ago. BAD. I will need to look into substitute teaching, probably.

my charm worked.

Those of you on facebook who monitor my profile closely know...

He's my boyfriend.

Yes, it has not been long.

We have seen a lot of each other. A lot. And it has all been so wonderful.

My mom was thrilled to hear what a great mood I've been in. Everything feels fantastic.

His name is Damien, and he is my boyfriend.

And I am so very happy.

a couple good things.

Thing #1:

The gentleman I went out with a couple nights ago. We have since had two more evenings (stretching way, way into the night) that have been just wonderful. I am trying not to rush things, but this is going so, so very well. He wants me to be his lady-friend. We are not putting any official titles on each other, but this could potentially lead somewhere.

The man got my joke about Polish Scrabble (the W's and Z's being worth negative points - read a little Polish and you'll see what I mean), and has beat me twice at regular-Scrabble (he has scored on some real jerk-words, too. He turned "mace" into "grimace", and then into "grimaces", which got him 36 points. Also, he beat me single-handedly with the word "proxy" on triple-word score). He is a hardcore Dan and Genesis fan. He has played in a Toto cover band. He is so smart, and he makes me both laugh my ass off and smile like I have had the best day ever.

I have had the best weekend ever.

Thing #2:

I got my first crock pot, since I am such a lazy turd that I would rather my food cook itself. I am attempting some beef stew today, and I am praying it will not be awful.

::glee::

I had a date last night.

A really, really successful date.

I suddenly feel incredibly pretty and confident.

He had really good hair.

Also, he was nothing but a gentleman.

I hope this pans out well, but I will take my moment of happiness and totally enjoy the hell out of it.

O.M.G.

I am LIVID. So, so livid.

His friends are NOT my friends anymore.

He, and apparently others, found the situations surrounding our breakup so hilarious that his Halloween costume was his old work outfit, with cuffs.

I am disgusted. And I am unsure why this is bothering me so much. Except for that I had spent 6.5 years of my life with someone who could render me so disappointed.

You make my dreams...

Is it a good or bad thing that I had a pleasing romantic (but not erotic) dream about Daryl Hall, wherein I was his girlfriend?

This was the younger Daryl Hall, mind you. With the really poofy ridiculous hair. But he was nothing but a gentleman.

Daryl Hall used to look like this:

Not bad, not bad at all. Except that he looks like this now.



He is 62. And he looks like THAT. Damn, but he has aged well. Like, he's definitely hotter now. Why couldn't THAT Hall be my boyfriend?

This video, I think, will provide sufficient evidence as to the Hall that was in my dream.

Hall and Oates - Method of Modern Love

That's right. My imaginary boyfriend had an incredible mullet.

As you may have noticed...

A certain counter is not on my blog anymore.

Congrats Phillies.

Enjoy this year.

Because it isn't gonna happen again.

:)

Just so you know.

PHILLY STILL SUCKS.

Eat at Joe's

Oh, Trader Joe's. How I love you.

Delicious item of the week:

Chicken potstickers. One word review: WIN.

I love dim sum/dumplings, and I am a lazy turd and do not wish to make them on my own. TJ's has long been my favorite grocery stores, particularly for their heat/eat type items. I have already proclaimed my love for their Punjab Eggplant, which goes fabulously with their prepackaged naan... and now I find these! I had long been tempted to buy them, and yesterday, I decided to plunge into the world of dumpling deliciousness.

Awesome decision, Julia. These things ROCK. The suggested cooking method is to pan-fry/steam them on the stove, but as I have mentioned, I am lazy, and do not like adding unnecessary oil to my eats. So into the microwave they went (covered by a wet paper towel, for hot steamy action), and 2 minutes later, I get to eat them with a little Shoyu.

So good. So very, very good.

Big props, TJ's. You have created yet another sumptuous item with which to clog my freezer.

Oy gevalt.

I am so so twitterpated.

And I let him know.

Was that stupid?

Spooky Scary!

Oh boy.

I suppose I haven't mentioned how much I love 30 Rock. Such a funny, mean-spirited show.

At any rate, this seems like as good a place as any to post this clip.

Tracy Jordan's novelty record, "Werewolf Bar Mitzvah"

Boys becoming MEN! Men becoming WOLVES!

Suck.

Last week's crappiness was apparently not enough.

Fuck you, Marlins. Oh, and thanks a lot for having me believe in you, Mets. I really like being disappointed year after year.

::sigh::

::Sigh::

The pain eventually subsides.

But I should probably ache for a while.

It's been a long time since I've been alone.

I don't/want to talk about it

...

if anyone needs my phone number, pls ask.

My aim is NewWaveMathlete

Theme of the months

Listening to: Steely Dan - Josie

Today's theme? Tomorrow's theme? Theme for the next couple months?

FUCK POLITICS!

Yay!

I hate the government anyway, I distrust 99% of politicians, and the sniping back and forth is boring.

Ergo...

FUCK POLITICS!

...

So how 'bout those Mets? Specifically, how 'bout that Carlos Delgado? All hitting homers, playing good defensive ball... MVP! MVP!

I heart baseball. It doesn't piss me off as much.

Blackout.

Listening to: Delicious power

Yesterday, we had some Hanna-related issues. That is to say, my building and others within a few-block radius were dealt a blackout yesterday for 5 or so hours. Which sucked. It was uncomfortably hot and jungly, so my apartment became hot and jungly. Eventually, due to not being able to read in the encroaching darkness, and due to it being about 85 degrees in my apartment (the qats didn't mind), I went to the lobby, to find out the situation. A bunch of other people in the building got the same idea.

I also noticed a few of them slinking off to the gym, where a lot of cool A/C air had been captured, not unlike in a fridge. Slinking off with a bottle of Grey Goose and some mixers. I formulated a plan. I drove to the beer distributor on Fairmount, which was fortuitously open and not powerless, and bought a case of Natty Boh (SO happy to find it here. It kicks Yuengling's ass); after getting an improvised dinner at Wawa (side note: the mashed potatoes are awesome), I hauled the case into the building, and invited the folks in the gym to help me drain it. Because I was so bored, I knocked back 4 cans in about 1.5 hours, faster than I should've been drinking.

I was sloshed, needless to say, when the power came back on and I felt like going back upstairs.

Still, not a bad way to spend a blackout - making friends, and drinking beer.

Oh! some pictures.

First, a couple stragglers from Hawaii.

This is a gorgeous tree related to a Protea, which is kind of a ubiquitous flower-tree in Hawaii. This one, I think, is an Australian variety. Spotted at the Kula Botanical Garden, not far from Haleakala Crater.


Next, we have the incredibly rare Hawaiian Nene Goose. Only about 300 are known to exist. This critter, too, was at the botanical garden.



Finally, in non-Hawaiian related awesomeness, I picked up a SICK pair of Adidas Superskates on Friday. Soooo cool.

QFT

Listening to: Fleetwood Mac - The Chain

The Democrats are the party of government activism, the party that says government can make you richer, smarter, taller, and get the chickweed out of your lawn. Republicans are the party that says government doesn't work, and then get elected and prove it. - PJ O'Rourke

Nice speech McCain. Wait. Was there a speech? I couldn't hear anything over U-S-A! U-S-A! I'm qualified because I've been tortured! BLAH BLAH 9-11!

Oy gott. It will be difficult to get me in that booth this year.

Oh fer...

Listening to: Juggy D - Sohniye

I am back, peoples. And I am an idjit who barely used her camera, so I really don't have much to add, unfortunately, at least in the picture department.

That said: What an AWESOME vacation. The week with my family resulted in only a minimal amount of infighting, which was a pleasant surprise. A minor clash with dad, but otherwise, we all got along great, and everyone got to do their "thing" a whole lot. Dad read a million books and sat in the shade a lot, mom also read books and came in the pool a bunch with Charlotte and I, Char learned how to snorkel (from the master) and how to grill (from the master), and I got to sample beers, eat tons of seafood, see fishies in their element, and hey, I even managed a tan. With only a little burning! YAY!

Oh, bonus - I got to see a very, very rare bird - the Hawaiian Nene goose. I do, in fact have a picture, which I will post later (once I've uploaded the pic).

So, school starts this week. Oy gevalt. I'm worried. This is my last semester at Temple, and it has to be PERFECT. I want to graduate as close to a 4.0 as possible (it's around 3.8 now, which makes me way happy). Allegedly, work starts soon, too, but I'm irritated - Kaplan has been busy farting around with my payroll access, and as a result, I haven't been able to input my numerous hours, and I haven't gotten paid. I'm pissed, and I have no idea what they're doing in the office. I have been in constant email contact to fix the problem, though.

Just gorgeous

Listening to: oceany noises

Hello hello!

Thought I should do the check-in thing as promised, plus post up a couple pictures (I forget my camera a lot, so there probably won't be tons throughout).

Anyway... after a hideously long travel day on Friday (leave the house at 3:45 am, arrive at condo in Kapalua at 6pm - or midnight, New York time), we've all gotten nicely settled into the rare variant of the L-family-vacation known as "lazing the hell around." Every day has been trip to beach/trip to pool/trip to beach (hell of good snorkeling here!), interspliced with eating and, in my case, sampling local beers. Even my usually go-go parents are taking it easy, although my dad's been digesting his book supply a little too quickly, as I anticipated.

The sealife collection, as spotted by Charlotte and I, has been pretty rad, to say the least. 4 varieties of butterfly-fish, sergeant majors, surgeon-fish, triggerfish (including the oddly ubiquitous humuhumunukunuku apu'aa), parrotfish, and swarms of goatfish. My eagle eye also helped me spot a little-bitty octopus, gripping onto coral for dear life.

At any rate...

This is the view from the condo - you can see Molokai off in the distance to the right.


And this is how the palm tree in the middle looks around sunset.



And of course, as evidence of my presence, here I am enjoying my book about drinks - kindly disregard the ghost-thigh.



Will post more later - stay tuned :)

Aloha - the goodbye kind.

Listening to: Blondie - Heart of Glass

Alright!

Tomorrow, I go to New York on the Amtrak. No big deal.

Friday, at 4am, we leave for EWR, wherein we take our redonkulously early flight to O'Hare. Then, an hour an change of downtime, in which I shall buy food for my lunch. Which will be eaten on my 10:30 flight to HA-FREAKING-WAII.

Oh, and once in Honolulu, another flight to Maui. After the 8-hour haul to Honolulu, that last flight will seem like nothing, so I'm choosing not to think about it.

I am going to Hawaii. I AM GOING TO HAWAII!

Pictures will be taken. A slight tan may be acquired. Fishes will be seen/eaten. And I will enjoy my awesome summer vacation. A week where I will do everything in my power not to watch Mets games (can't kill my relaxation); I can read and snorkel, and eat tasty food. And take in gorgeous sights.

I will miss you all muchly, but I will bring my laptop, and may provide an update here or there, to keep you folks on your toes.

So Aloha to all!

Another reason to hate the Philthies.

Listening to: Genesis - Squonk

Just stumbled across this tidbit.

Philthie-pitcher Cole Hamels is married to Heidi "Ho" Strobel, of the *cough cough* "pretty girls" alliance from Survivor: Amazon.

Heidi-Ho was basically some vacuous twigs with a pair of bolt-ons, who was, along with the actually pretty cool Jenna Morasca, completely convinced that her gorgeousness was just too much for the other players. She is also known for stripping down to her skeleton for attention-whoring... I mean, peanut butter.

It's just too easy to make fun of the Philthies.

Interesting Bit Character

Listening to: Evelyn "Champagne" King - Shame

Do you guys have a strange "bit character" in your life? Someone you see who you just KNOW should be in a book or movie or something?

I now have a doozy.

This needs some background: Not long ago, since we decided that our relationship had to have honesty in it, I told Steve he was out of shape. The downside to this honesty: he told me the same (I know you're reading this, sweetie ^__6)

I decided to seriously remedy this problem as soon as possible by swimming daily over at the neighboring apartment building (I'm allowed to use their pool because the building is run by the same management as mine). It was at this pool that I happened upon my character.

I wish I could say that I made this guy up.

Two days ago, I first ran into him. Or rather, nearly ran into him. As I came into the pool-room, there was this dude, swimming in the pool. Or floundering, or something. An old guy, out of my "attractive older guy" range by a couple decades. Splashing along like it ain't no thang, doing his version of the front crawl (feeble noodle-arms, no kick), diagonally across the pool. I doubt that the diagonal thing was intentional, but he saw me and made no attempt to scootch to one side of the pool. I'm standing at the edge, trying to get in so I can do my laps. This other guy, over by the hot tub notices my smirk and suggests that I swim in a tiny circle over in the corner of the pool.

Thankfully, as I got in, the old guy got out. And I was horrified.

Very good muscle tone, yes, especially for a man his age. But in a very, very, way-too-revealing bathing suit.

I present to you...

Grandpa Banana-Hammock.

The dude was wearing a speedo, but its elastic had worn out a little, it seems. The guy might as well have been naked, for all he was revealing. Apparently, well-equipped.

EWWWW...

Eats!

Listening to: No Doubt - Hella Good

First things first:

Aced the final teachback. I am officially a Kaplan Premier Tutor! WOO!

Thing the second:

I made another awesome dinner tonight! YAY!

This morning, whilst in New York (I had to get some cavities drilled/filled yesterday ::OUCH::), Dad and I went to the farmer's market in Larchmont - a nearby environ of Rye. I figured I needed some nice things, so I bought a variety of squashes, fresh garlic, bruschetta (must buy ciabatta tomorrow) and some amazing looking local sea scallops. Gorgeous, and they smelled sweet even before I cooked them - a sign of a great scallop.

I hauled ass back to Philly this afternoon, with the scallops on ice, and once home, tucked them away in my fridge.

Since they were fresh, I decided that the scallops needed to be my dinner. I pan-fried them in a little butter, with some minced garlic - the fresh one I bought- and some lemon juice. Nicely browned on the exterior, and white on the interior. Juicy, not overcooked. Also threw some zucchini on the George Foreman - I have never cooked zuke successfully on the GF, but I drizzled on some olive oil and cracked on some sea salt, and somehow, it magically came out perfectly cooked.

The scallops were sweet and perfectly tender, and the zucchini was flavorful and just the right texture.

I love a good dinner. Especially when I cook it.

omfg earwom

Note: I am not sober right now.

I am listening to three variations on "In the Air Tonight," which is in my all time top 5 greatest songs ever.

I found a Nu-Metal cover of it by a group called Nonpoint. It's actually a pretty awesome cover:

Nonpoint - In the Air Tonight

Nukes?

Listening to: Ambrosia - You're the Only Woman

One of my peak political issues revolves around energy.

I know this is something a lot of people think about.

I am a HUGE supporter of nuclear power. HUGE. Like, it is one of the biggest things I support.

I don't think much of either of our candidates this year, but Mr. McCrap... I mean, McCain, has thrown some big support behind nuclear plants, and I have to applaud that. I'd never vote for someone based on one issue alone, but it has me thinking.

Why has this country dug its heels in so deep about nuclear power plants? Technology has come quite some way since the 1970's (when the US stopped building them - thanks a lot, stupid 3-Mile Island), and Europe flourishes with nuclear power. I mean, France is effing gorgeous - no pollution to speak of, and a lot has to do with those power plants - as well as a very big pedestrian population, something this country sorely lacks.

There's always a fear of meltdowns, but bad things happen no matter where you look. Chernobyl happened because of a really stupid human decision, as they were testing the strength of the cooling towers, and that backfired something awful. I won't deny that there is an inherent danger in using radioactive elements in anything, but I think this is something the States needs to consider.

I personally think that the problem comes with the word "nuclear". There's an automatic reflex to attach the word "bomb".

So how do you guys feel about nuclear power?

We-ell...

Listening to: Jelleestone - Money

I'm not going to go into terribly graphic detail about the trip.

Grandma fluctuated between crotchety, complain-y, amusing, and baffling.

Lewis looked better than I thought he would, and was responsive when I chatted with him. This included grabbing on to my hand like a bear trap and smiling when I made fun of my mom, as well as when I played him some Doobie Brothers from my phone - bikers love that stuff.

My mom's friend, who is a known alcoholic and is also known for cooking dinners very late, managed to dial down her drinking, and made us a very southern dinner which was ready by 8. And her husband has recovered completely from his prostate cancer. They're both a hoot, and it was nice to see them again. Their son, who is my mother's godson, and his wife had twins in April, and they are adorable.

Mom and I made the most of the trip, as best we could, driving back and forth across Chattanooga (and taking a very peculiar detour on the way back to Nashville - mom wanted to show me parts of central Tennessee and got us a little lost in the process). We visited the aquarium, which is awesome, and took some nice walks downtown. I do like going down there, if only because I like seeing where my mom grew up.

At any rate, I'm home (have been since Thursday), and have been working my butt off to fill out my Kaplan book so I can do my interview the right way on Thursday. I am TERRIFIED. Absolutely shattered-terrified, like I have this sense that I am going to burst into tears the second I begin. The teaching part I think I have under control, but the whole Intro to Kaplan-parent-style-interview thing is going to be my undoing. I've never worked with customers before, and I have never "pitched" a product.

Pardon me, boys...

is that the Chattanooga Choo-Choo?

See you guys on Friday.

Volunteers

Listening to: M.I.A. - Galang

Next week, I go with my mother to Chattanooga, to visit with members of her family. I haven't been in Chattanooga in about 5 years, and I'm not exactly jumping for joy with the prospects of this trip.

I love my grandmother. Absolutely. But she's off the deep-end, and has mostly herself to blame. She suffers from depression, among a variety of maladies, mostly physical, and does nothing to help herself; she is a recluse, who never leaves her apartment in her assisted living complex, and refuses to see a psychiatrist - she is absolutely convinced that nothing will ever work, and she seems to almost enjoy wallowing in her misery.

I honestly do connect my own mental issues with hers, but we've taken two completely different approaches to dealing with our problems. I confronted mine head-on, and have been in therapy for 8 years, and on medication for 5. She stays at home, watching Animal Planet and televangelists (A number of years ago, mom caught her sending a large quantity of money to Jerry Fallwell. We are a family of mostly secular Jews with moderate leanings. Mom was not happy, to say the least). She has some very nasty views about homosexuals, Muslims, and anyone who isn't okayed by the evangelist nation. It is hard to talk to her sometimes, so I usually just talk to her about cats and my writing; she used to be a very creative and artistic person, so she seems genuinely curious about my craft. At least she has a nice kitty to talk to. ::sigh::

And to top it off, I am going to visit my Uncle Lewis. Which would be great, except that he's been in a coma for over two years. Needless to say, I am very depressed at the prospect.

He and my mother were never particularly close - their lifestyles were complete opposites. Mom went to college and business school and ended up being a very successful banker up north. Lewis also made it to college, but got married at 19 when his (eventually revealed to be insane) girlfriend got pregnant. Lewis was/is a man who lived how he liked, never working too hard, making enough to be content with his life. He didn't save up much money, and spent a lot of time on motorcycles, which is unfortunately what put him in a coma.

The most tragic part of his accident is that he was 3 days away from marrying his third wife, an amazing and wonderful woman who we were all very happy he was marrying. She has been by his side since the accident, although she and my mother (and oddly enough, my grandmother) have had disagreements about Lewis' situation, regarding pulling the plug. Most of this has come from Lewis' financial situation, which my mother is now managing.

I want to say I'll be okay when I see him. My best friend was in a coma for quite some time when she was hit by a car, and it was heart-wrenching to visit her - it took a huge toll on me mentally and academically. I hope I can make it.

State of the Waterpark Union - LONG

Listening to: Kenna - Loose Wires

Alrighty... so, birthday weekend recap. That is to say, mostly-birthday recap.

Steve came on Friday night, all prepped for a Saturday of fun and adventure to celebrate my unceremonious turning of the 24.

We had an adventure alright.

Saturday, the birthday in question, involved something I had wanted to do for ages - go to a water park. I think it had been about 13 years or so since I last visited one. I dig waterslides and wave pools, and, hey! Dorney Park is only a little more than an hour away!

In theory.

Leaving at 11am or so, we hit a substantial amount of traffic. Repeatedly. It took us about an hour to get from Philadelphia to 476. It should only take about 15 minutes, maybe. And then we periodically hit more traffic here and there. And I got lost around Pottsville, when I needed to stop and fill the car with gas. Only a 15 minute sidetrack there. Eventually, we arrived at Dorney Park at around 2pm. And then the fun continued!

30 minutes to find a parking spot. THIRTY MINUTES. Wherein my head nearly exploded a million times, due to countless idiots picnicking in the middle of the fucking parking lot, or sitting in a very narrow area which I had to turn through. A whole family, including 5 kids, sat in the turning lane, which meant I had to pull an Austin Powers "back and forth" move in order to squeeze by so I could drive through yet another column of full parking spaces. Is it really that hard to get up and move for like 5 seconds, so as to have the nice person in the blue toaster-car not crush all of your family members' legs at once? IS IT?! ::temper temper::

Eventually, after the Julia's-brain-vein-pulsation ride, I eventually found a parking spot about half a mile from the park entrance. I didn't even care at this point. But I probably should have taken into account that

a) it is the middle of July, and it is 96 degrees outside
b) it is a Saturday
c) this is the only remotely fun place to go in the northern Pennsylvania area
d) the parking lot is completely full.

It was like Hong Kong in the park. Just absolute chaos. After paying the very steep admission price, Steve and I got the privilege of pushing past thousands of people, so as to pay an additional $10 for a teeny tiny locker for my stuffed backpack, and then shove through thousands more to reach any of the aquatic attractions. Bear in mind points a-d.

We waited on line for no less than one hour to get on the lazy river ride. For those of you unfamiliar with water parks, this ride consists of people riding on an inner tube around a circular "river" with a current, going through tunnels and under waterfalls. Mellow and fun as hell. We didn't want to get off - we took three loops around before we decided to get off (we should have stayed on longer - it was super relaxing, and well worth the wait).

After this, we went to the locker so as to pry money out to get drinks (remember: 96 degrees). $3.50 for a bottle of water from a vending machine. I have never seen a drink machine that took Abe Lincolns. Regardless, that was easily the most refreshing water I have ever had, and I slugged it in about 3 minutes. Then, we ventured towards the wave pool.

Mistake. Once again, I was fairly sure we had journeyed into a Hong Kong subway station - thousands of people in and around the pool. When we first arrived at the pool, it was wall-to-wall people. Which I anticipated. What I did not anticipate, however, was the closure of said pool the second we got our feet in it (bonus points for Steve; he braved the whole park barefoot, as I neglected to buy him Aquasox - I'm sorry, honey!). Again, more waiting - about 15 minutes. Finally, after the guards gave the OK, all the people entered the pool, all Bulls-of-Pampalona style. We got as close to the wave-thingies as we could, and enjoyed floating in the eerily murky, probably full of pee water. Finally, the waves came on. Glee! Bliss! Wait... what's that? 2 minutes into the wave cycle, the waves turned off, and everyone was shooed out of the pool. Apparently the pool had "things" in it. Garbage or something. OF COURSE IT DOES! THERE ARE FIVE THOUSAND PEOPLE IN THE RAT-BASTARD POOL. A chorus of boos occurred, and once again, Steve and I were out of the pool.

Finally, Steve suggested we take a ride on the Aqua-Racer slide, one where you ride on one of those smooshy blue foam pads and "race" others to the finish line. Of course, there was a line, but it moved comparatively quickly (20 minutes, I'd say), and the slide was definitely fun. We chatted with some friendly ladies while on line and ended up racing them (Steve won - I blame momentum, plus f=ma, and I lost - I blame a bad start). Finally, it was time to go home. I desperately wanted to get a nice birthday dinner in, so we hustled our way out, not even bothering to change in the park; I ended up changing in my car, which seemed to keep generating people in a 20 foot radius every time I was about to flash a naughty bit. Oh well.

Once out of the park, I got lost again, and that was about a 20 minute detour, but by the time we got on 476 again, it was totally smooth sailing. We were back in Philly by 8pm, with enough time to shower and change, and scoot off to dinner.

Dinner was INCREDIBLE. We went to a nearby southwest fusion place, Mission Grill, and both of us had very, very good food. We both had mojitos (I, a regular, and Steve, a watermelon - he didn't like his), then dined on the following:

1st course:

Fried Cod Tacos (split)

2nd course:

Caesar Salad (he)

Yellow tomato gazpacho with rock shrimp (me)

Main course:

Grilled porkchop with mystery accompaniment (he - Steve was quite fond of said mystery accompaniment - I checked - It was parsnips ^__^)

Escolar with beet carpaccio and corn/tomato salsa (me)

Dessert:

Banana-caramel crepe (he)

Chocolate pot-au-creme (me)

We left stuffed and content.

A good time was had by all.

Oh, about today.

I'm, um, 24 now.

:D

What a coincidence!

Listening to: Um...

Um...

This is one of the best discoveries I have come upon in a while. As it turns out, this discovery was already noted by like a million other people. But at least I know now.

Robbie Dupree's 1980 classic "Steal Away" is the exact same fucking song as the Doobie Brothers 1978 hit "What a Fool Believes".

Steal away indeed! McDonald and Loggins wrote a hell of awesome song - easily one of the smoothest and cleanest rock-lite songs ever, and Robbie Dupree straight up bastardized it.

And you know what? I actually don't hate him for it. If I was a singer, I'd probably want to rip off "What a Fool Believes", too. It's a great song, easily in my personal top 5.

You be the judges, folks.

Doobie Brothers - "What a Fool Believes"

Robbie Dupree - "Steal Away"

LET'S GO METS!

Listening to: Meet the Mets (1967 version)

Two straight shut-outs against the Rox. Pelfrey pitching amazing. NINE FUCKING WINS IN A ROW.

THESE are your 2008 New York Mets, ladies and gents. These is the team I have wanted since I saw Spring Training. Everyone's producing, and I officially like Mike Pelfrey. He has emerged from a horrible shadow of an early few starts (bad bad bad ones) and been stellar. 8 shutout innings. 3 double-plays.

YES! Only .5 game back from the Philthies!

My dad and sister are off to the Home Run derby tomorrow. Nobody to represent us there (Oh, how I wish I were there to see David Wright's outing a couple years ago... so dreamy... so awesome), but it's a super fun event that I always watch. This year, the power's to be found in the NL - and I'm thinking of ::biting bullet hard:: cheering for handsome Chet Utley. He's the only Philthie I like, so I suppose it makes sense.

But 2 of my boys are suiting up this year for the all-star game. Go NL!

Sweet Success - And New York, too!

Listening to: Ben Folds Five - Jackson Cannery

This Kaplan thing is going well. I think I've finally sort-of got the hang of teaching "the Kaplan way", and I've found that I'm still pretty sharp with my math, in spite of not taking a class in... jeepers, 6 years? It's so weird to be teaching math. I've been doing nothing but English for a while now, and it's strange to think that I'm qualified for this sort of thing. Mom says I should try and get a math teaching job, since those are in high demand. I quickly reminded her that

a) If I wanted to teach public school, I would need a certificate - which would require taking, oh, 33 additional credit hours of college math. No thanks

and

b) If I wanted to teach private school, chances are, they'd be a million times more likely to take someone who has a background in, oh, let's say "math", not English. Or social studies, for that matter (undergrad in anthropology).

Maybe I could work in a city public school - but likely not, since that kind of stress would absolutely kill me.

Anyway, to the point: I am racking up crazy hours in prep and practice mode for this job, so far 12 hours of practice and 11 hours prep. That's a lot of money right there. It's nice to make an income again ^__^.

Oh, and I'm going to New York tomorrow night - Wall-E! Then on Saturday, a ballgame with Max Headroom & co. and Steve! Then, off to the fam's house for a brief visit, and back home on Sunday. Must leave out extra food bowl for qats.

Am I a wuss?

Listening to: Paul Simon - 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover

I think I'm weak, maybe.

I hate fights, and I get really, really uncomfortable when people start arguing back and forth, calling names, getting all into their strong personal opinions to the point where they might be completely seeing rage and nothing else.

It happened last semester, in my writing workshop. Two people, with whom I'm friendly, got into a massive shouting match over my head, about the content of a story. It was a stupid fight, and both were being completely disrespectful of the rest of the class; it was painfully obvious that everyone was getting uncomfortable with the situation - including the teacher. Unfortunately, said teacher, who I adore completely, kept his mouth shut and allowed the argument to continue.

My friend Carlos had to step out of the room mid-fight, but because the fighting was going on over me, I was completely paralyzed and froze in my chair. The shouting got louder and louder, and I kept sinking further into my seat. I began pulling my hood over my head, as though it were a kind of shield, but it didn't work. I started to cry right as we hit break-cool-down-time. I was embarrassed, but I think maybe I sent a message - fighting hurts everyone, even if they're not involved. Maybe I'm a wimp because I can't expose what strong feelings I have (particularly how I'm blase about politics), but I simply can't argue while ramming my head into a wall and telling someone repeatedly how wrong they are.

I think right now, I'm explaining the caption next to my picture, about how I'm the gray area. I just don't like telling people they're wrong and that I'm right. It took me a few years of mellowing and med-adjustment to reach this kind of Zen, but I do wonder if maybe a little part of me died.

Is it a bad thing to really dislike intense debate? Does it make me a weakling? I'm legitimately curious.

Huzzah!

Listening to: Steely Dan - The Last Mall

I finished the paper. 20 minutes before it was due.

Go Julia!

Other thing:

My college buddy, James, was just in town for a visit. It was nice to see him - it had been nearly two years since I had seen him last, and it was a pleasure to catch up with him. In the day and a half he was here, we managed to have one delicious dinner at a local pub (he, a catfish BLT, I, a flank-steak salad) with great beers, a couple more beers, and a cheapie not-quite-brunch at a nearby restaurant; it was also good because I HAD SOMEONE WITH WHOM TO SEE FIREWORKS!

It was putrid last night - lots of rain and humidity, and a large number of thousands of people, all carrying large umbrellas and obstructing my view. Thankfully, I had the very tall James to hold an umbrella over my head. The fireworks were good, although not spectacular - I guess it's never as fun when there's driving rain involved.

The fam's gonna be in town today, so we can all go to the Mets-Philthies game tonight. I'm psyched, although the likelihood of rain/thunder isn't a pleasant prospect... oh well. I never blow off a good Mets game ^__6

Procrastination 'R' Us, plus Benny F.

Listening to: Pete Yorn - Life on a Chain

Sooo... I have this research paper due for my education class. Due on Saturday, to be precise. I have had a very fleshed-out outline for this thing for about a week or so. Guess how much of the paper is written.

For anyone who said anything other than "0%", get off my blog. You don't know me. Creep.

So of course, the plan is to maybe tip-tap out about 50-75% of it tomorrow, and leave the rest for Saturday morning. It's not like I have any plans between now and then anyway. My 4th is going to be stupendously dull - I don't even have sparklers, and I have no people to go watch the fireworks with. I may just hoist my little foldy recliner over to the parkway for the fireworks and then stroll on home, but there are appx. 1 million people who may or may not be doing something similar. At least I don't have to drive. Or even walk very far, come to think of it. Hooray for awesome location.

The thing that bugs me about this year's 4th of July AMERICA SPECTACULAR PHILADELPHIA!!!! is that there is no Hall and Oates performance like there was last year. Even in the driving rain, one of my favorite New-Wave-Soul groups put on an incredible show (I watched on tv, not in the rain), complete with a sax player that was the spitting image of Ben Franklin. Steve and I both found this to be a hoot. Considering that Ben Franklin is on anything and everything in this city... I live near the Franklin Town apartments, the Franklintown park, near the "Big Ben on the Parkway" statue... yeesh. The man gets around.

Oh, Yahoo Answers... you kill me.

Listening to: John Mellencamp - Jack and Diane (::clap clap::)

Hi-ho.

I have been spending an inordinate amount of time, of late, on Yahoo Answers, providing guidance re: all things tattoos to anyone who asks. It's a hobby, I guess, but I will happily admit that sometimes, I just go there to see who can say the most ridiculous things. There are a lot of very young people out there, somewhere in their mid-teens, who already have tattoos, are begging mom and dad to let them get tattoos, or are going under cover of night to have an unlicensed artist give them diseases... I mean, give them a quality tattoo.

I am in no position to judge the tattooed population, but I do find certain topics uproariously funny.

Appx 90% of the "questions" asked in the tattoo section are along the lines of "Help me find meaningful tattoo ideas, k thanx?!!!1one!"

::sigh:: Because asking a bunch of mysterious strangers with keyboards will magically help you pinpoint your personality based on things like "I lyk lovve and I luv my famuhlie and I wannt dragunz!" How can you help that? A magical tribal butterfly dragon holding a family in his talons?

I came across this gem not long ago:

I want to get a tattoo , not anytime soon though , and i wanted some ideas . I want something unique and colorful or interesting . I'm Irish , a Virgo , love the designs of Ed Hardy , Chanel , Volcom and those kinds of things . I also love Egyptian culture . I want something meaningful , I would love a tattoo of a quote too . thanks (:

At least they were kind enough to give me plenty of options. I posted the following response.

You want something "meaningful," yet you've given us about 10 ideas to work with. If you were to place them all together, you'd end up with a shamrock-crowned virgin goddess, wearing designer sunglasses, who is skateboarding on top of a pyramid, with a banner that says "Love kills slowly".

Narrow it down a little, please, otherwise we have no chance of figuring out what is "meaningful" to you.

Was I cruel?

Nahhh... these are permanent, kiddies.

ARGGGGH!

Listening to: HORRIBLE ANNOYING FIRE ALARM

They're testing the building's fire alarms today.

They have been testing the bloody thing for THREE HOURS.

It is playing in my MIND right now - UGH!

Going to read in the park today. This is intolerable.

Well whoop-dee-shit.

Listening to: Ohio Players - Fire

Maybe I should start wearing a shirt that says "ask me about my hot sex."

::sigh::

I know I'm not a prude, but I really don't care about whatever amazing sexcapades someone may be having. I don't talk about my sex life unless I'm prompted (and am fond of the promptee). It's kind of like watching people, no matter how attractive, making out in public. It's none of my business, and I don't care how great it is, if nobody's asking about it, keep it to yourself, pls.

Besides, nine times out of ten, the person is lying to impress you. No sex is ever as good as you say it is.

A Victory for Hair.

Listening to: Weather Report - Palladium

I got a new haircut this weekend!

Well, to be fair, it was a haircut I've had in my past. Although the last time I wore my hair this short was 6 years ago. I knew I needed a trim at the very least, so on Saturday, I headed over to the Not-Repulsively-Expensive-but-not-Dirt Cheap chain salon and got a smacktabulous haircut.


Frakkin' love it. It's all nice and flattering, and although I am of course incapable of making it look anything close to as good as when it was initially styled, I am very, very happy with how it looks. Of course, the caveat then becomes the fact that I need to get it maintained every six weeks or so. What am I, Baron Von Wealth? ::sigh:: oh well. Time to cut out some unnecessary spending again.

Plus, I went to the Gap and bought very flattering Grown-Up Pants®, that is to say, nice looking khakis. They fit PERFECTLY. I'm amazed and delighted enough to be a size 6 again, but I am even more thrilled than the "ankle" cut is actually the exact right length. It is such a pain in the ass to buy pants when you've got wee stumpy legs.

I made the shrimp scampi thing again last night. I have truly stumbled upon a delicious, delicious treasure. Man, I love shopping at Trader Joes. I did it again yesterday (which was, in retrospect, a mistake; there is room in their parking lot for approximately 10 cars - okay, hyperbole - and there are many many more cars in the city of Philadelphia), picking up even more shrimp and lemon juice for scrumptious eating. I kind of wish I had bought some snack food, but I'm happy with the pseudo-Tofutti-Cuties.

Oh man, I'm good

Listening to: Looking Glass - Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)

I made the most delicious dinner tonight, and it was all frozen :D (I really did cheat by using frozen precooked brown rice, but it is TOO convenient); anyway, I had sort of a scampi thing going on.

Trader Joe's precooked frozen shrimp, sauteed with frozen French green beans in butter, garlic, and lemon juice, and served alongside the aforementioned brown rice. It took roughly 15 minutes to make, and it came out far better than I could've imagined. Only problem now is that I DEFINITELY need to go back to Trader Joe's for shrimp and lemon juice. I love it when I make a dinner that just "works."

Steve's in Colorado Springs right now, visiting his family (there was a mass exodus there: Steve's siblings - 2 of 3, anyway - and then Steve's parents, a couple years ago). His sister's 2-year-old son, Kevin, is obsessed with me. This is because when I visited with Steve in March, we took Kevin out on a walk. Throughout this walk, Steve periodically lifted Kevin over mailboxes, and I periodically flipped him upside down. He LOVED being upside down, and according to Steve, he insists that "on'y Julia, peez" can flip him correctly.

So, since I'm not there with Uncle Steve, Kevin wondered where I was. And today, Kevin was on his play phone for hours, attempting to call me. Finally, Steve just called me and handed kiddo the phone.

So cuuuuute. I've never figured out why little kids love me, but they do. All of Steve's little nephews love me, and it makes me so so happy.

Sundaaaay!

Listening to: Steely Dan - Godwhacker

It's a Sunday of baseball and humidity.

Last night, the Metsies (and Philadelphia) were rained out - bigtime. It was absolutely pouring for about an hour. I put a cup on my (covered) porch, just to check the amount, and amazingly, it hit 1". That's a whole lotta sideways rain, if I must say so. Hell of loud thunder, too, which made the qats very anxious. Meh - they can deal with it. Between all the yakking and pooping on the floor, I think they deserve a little disciplining here and there, even if it's nature that's doing it.

Interview redux with Kaplan tomorrow; gotta take some kind of SAT-like test (it's been "too long" since I last took the SAT... I guess 7 years is a while), chat in an interview, and give ANOTHER sample lesson. Not sure what to talk about this time, although I think I might have a good one on successful Jeopardy! strategies*.

I get social contact tomorrow! My friend Carlos is swinging by and we're doin' some kind of Wii-playing thing, and then, who knows.

Roller Coaster Tycoon 3 has eaten my life. If any of you see anything resembling my soul, please return it soon. I need it. For living.

*I realize I have never ACTUALLY been on Jeopardy!, but I have been through the audition process, where they gave us some insider tips as to how to answer certain categories. "Potent Potables" is about alcoholic beverages, in care you're interested. If the category has a letter in quotation marks, such as "Y" Now?, All the answers will begin with the letter "y", and It's a "sin" will always contain the letters "sin" in the word. Neat trick, eh?

Trains in vain

Listening to: X-Press 2 feat. David Byrne - Lazy

Hooo-ee! so effing hot outside. It's 91 degrees at noon, which means it is actually going to be hotter. Desktop Weather sez: high of 97. Yuck. Why on earth is it so July-esque outside?

Had a very bizarre series of dreams last night, involving what looked to be Butch from Survivor Amazon in a Speedo (I have no idea), a meandering subway station which was allegedly the one I use almost daily (I think I may have actually been to this place in previous dreams), and a "Philadelphia" which resembled an amalgam of Paris and Stockholm. Very, very strange crap. I was perfectly sober last night, so I have no explanation.

My brain hurts.

Happy news on the job front! Kaplan Testing Centers - the people who write those helpful "So You're Taking a Standardized Test" guides - seem to have moved me on to the next stage of their hiring process after I apparently gave a good sample lesson on Saturday (topic: how to tell an interesting personal anecdote). They're lining me up to be a private tutor, which is exactly what I wanted. I am very excited. Another job in a relevant field - thus making education the ONLY field in which I have ever worked - although I shouldn't jinx it because I don't actually have the job yet.

Started writing again. I'm hoping this one will turn out well. The centralized plot lies on what one character suspects to be a love triangle, while a member of the triangle doesn't actually love anyone else in the triangle. It's based on real life, but I am gussying it up a bit by placing it in south Florida and giving it a clever name:

"Approximation of a Chambered Nautilus"

Don't ask. I'm pretty clever about story names sometimes, and sometimes they end up being tremendously silly. One of my best titles to date?

"Bringing Better Diner Efficiency for Tomorrow"

And yet I still hold out hope - some day, I will be published.

Live from New York...

Listening to: Was (Not Was) - Are You Okay?

At home with the folks until this evening - then I'm takin' one of those super-budget buses to Philly. $6.50! Yow! If only I didn't get bus-sick... ::le sigh:: It's gonna be tricky to sit still and do nothing for a couple hours, particularly while driving through New Jersey at night, but anything that saves me money is a good thing. Particularly when I saw that even in Jersey, gas is over $4 now. In JERSEY.

As usual, in spite of recent spats with the folks, I'm having a lovely visit.

Except it's about 92 outside with ridonkulous humidity. YAY STUPID EAST COAST!

Allegedly, it shall be 99 in Philly tomorrow. I am weeping in advance :(

Plus side, though: time at home means good (free) eats. Mom and dad served those sweet-balsamic marinated strawberries with vanilla ice cream, and it was painfully delicious.

I like Rye. It's fun to look at all the silly enormous houses. I can't fathom the property taxes these folks pay... In the neighborhood where I grew up (I lived in the same house my whole life- my folks still live there), half the houses are worth over 2-3 million. It's completely insane. My parents' awesome house looks downright humble in comparison. And then you notice - wow! a yard! (Those aren't in fashion here). I don't know why. Yards are awesome.

Amusing thing from dad

Listening to: Yes - Roundabout

I was thinking about Helicopter Parents, and then I remembered this thing my dad said once, after a parent-teacher meeting thing at my high school a number of years back.

(regarding the annoying parents)
"It's all like, Oh no! What if little Poindexter has physics and woodshop at the same time? What will he DO?"

Jersey Girl.

Listening to: America - Sister Golden Hair


I find this jersey completely horrifying, and I do not want to see it on any of my beloved Metropolitans.

THAT is what the National League will be wearing at the All-Game at ::shudder:: Yankee Stadium this summer. In spite of our Shiny New CitiField, which will be ready for play next year, we get to wait until 2011 (I believe that's right... or 2012) to host something that I have always wanted to attend.

Yes, YES, I know the game just isn't fun anymore, since Selig sucked the joy out of the event by making it count. Bud Selig, you are an ass-hat of the highest degree. I just wanted you to know that. But still, the whole pomp and ridiculousness of it is pretty damn fun, especially when your favorite players are doing amazing crap. I refer to David Wright in '06, with that impressive display in the home run derby.

And the Yankees are punishing us by making us wear those.

I hope the Mets unload some seriously gnarly colors on the American League in '11 (or is it '12?) - maybe some kind of glowing orange monstrosity (kinda like those punishment-bad yellow jerseys the NL wore in 2006) with royal blue/white letters, while the NL gets away with black with standard orange/blue/white logos.

Fie! Fie on the Yankees! And fie on the stupid crappy American League! DAMMIT WE WILL OWN YOU WE SWEAR.

But I'd probably want the stupid American League to beat the Phillies. That's the only exemption.

If they ended up facing the Yankees, my head would explode.

Onward, onward

Listening to: No Doubt - Sunday Morning

Another week without income. I swear I shall remedy this problem. My friend Dunc works at a restaurant about a block away from my apartment, and he told me that they have an opening. Needless to say, I shall be pursuing said opening. A job is a job is a job. Even if I have no frakkin' clue how to waitress or anything of that nature. Still, the uniform policy is "wear your clothes," which is something I can get behind, and the folks who eat at the place are about as uptight as I am (well, ok, bad example, but they're not fancypants). could be a good lead. Must fill out application.

Got my insurance quotes done. Having a car in the city is EXPENSIVE.

$3,035.

OUCH. Even the lady from Amica told me she felt sorry for me. But Amica's a great company, and my folks have been with them forever, so I'm gonna stick with 'em, high quote or not. Just means I'll be blasting through my nest-egg a little faster than I'd like. Of course. MUST GET JOB. I've been told that substituting and coaching is a good way to earn some cash, so next year, I think that's what I'll be doing. My education class thus far has not been much of a challenge, so I think I can definitely manage a day-job and take classes at night, once I'm done with my masters. That degree has been tough to get, but I really feel like it's an accomplishment; thusly, it is worthy of my sweat, labor, anger, et al.

My Kaplan interview is this weekend. Aside from issues like determining which is my best business-casual outfit (my weight is lower than before, so dog willing, I shall be able to fit into my old capris), I think I'll be fine. We have to give a 5-minute sample lesson on anything other than academics, so I plan on teaching a basic primer in keeping score for a baseball game. If you're a woman, it makes you appear even sexier. 'Least that's what they tell me.

The reason I get not-sad.

Listening to - ELO - Evil Woman

Two big things:

1. I have been granted financial autonomy. I now get to control my nest-egg (the money my parents have saved up for college and subsequent years; I have been living on it for a while), pay my car insurance (yes, it's expensive, but it makes my car officially "mine" now), and basically be a grown up. This is something most people my age have already been doing, but for me, it's an enormous accomplishment/big deal. What it means is that my parents think that I'm mentally stable enough, as well as mature enough, to be responsible for looking after myself. I know that I have been well-taken care of, financially, for a very long time, and given that I actually have a nest-egg at my age, I am still in this situation; I'm just really happy that I have the opportunity to be a big girl now and remove my training wheels.

2. I am going to effing Maui in August.

MAUI.

I love love love Hawaii. I have deep personal attachments to our island-state; I think I've been there, consciously or not, 5 times, which is a lot for a 23-year-old. Hawaii is my DisneyWorld. It is the happiest damn place on earth, and when I am a big girl with a real job, it will be the place I go when I save up enough money to travel.

(My parents have also been kind/unkind enough to let me know I was conceived in Maui. Eeeeeeew.)

Only downside? Must find a relatively modest tankini, or something to cover most of my torso, as I have a number of tattoos my parents STILL don't know about (they've seen several, but there are several which they have not seen). Still, I'll bring my bikini for the days when mom, dad, and Charlotte are off playing golf, so that I can get a proper tan. WOO!

The week has been up and down, but it's certainly leaning up right now.

And Steve's coming for the weekend, which is the absolute icing on the cake.

The reason I get sad.

Listening to: The Doobie Brothers - Real Love

People fucking suck, and I will be so thrilled to get out of this English program. Apparently, if you're not really into the whole "we shall discuss nothing but politics (for which I often play Devil's Advocate) and books and how awful anything remotely not high-culture is" thing, you may as well not exist.

The injury - I didn't graduate with many of my colleagues. This is due to some of my insecurities, and also to the fact that I hate combing through literature as though it is a frog dissections. Literary criticism BORES me. I couldn't handle being in a couple graduate-level lit classes; I think it had a lot to do with the fact that I can't and won't use the lexicon of "smart discourse." I talk like a person who likes to be understood by everyone. Unfortunately, this is not par for the course in graduate level courses. I felt like an idiot, and I dropped out of the two classes.

I know I'm not an idiot.

The issue is, I needed those classes to get my diploma, and I still haven't taken them; this will be remedied in the fall - and I'll be in the classes with some friends from the first-years (I'm technically a second-year - or rather, was. Now I'm up to 2.5).

There is absolutely nothing wrong with graduating a little late. I know that, and I accept that. It just comes in direct contrast with all of the successes of my earlier years. No problems in high school, no problems in college, and then, BAMF. Still, it's annoying to be the one "left behind."

The insult -One of my colleagues, who I had always been friendly with (we were quite tight my first year, even though she's a poet and I'm a fiction writer), who I had helped to move into her apartment, threw a happy graduation party. That's totally fine, and it makes a lot of sense. The part that I don't understand is that it seems a whole number of people, not just graduates, attended.

I was not invited. I had a free week, wherein people could call me, ask me what was up. I call them, and they tell me they're busy, which they very well could be.

I had to find out I had been slighted via Facebook.

Maybe I'm being irrational, or hypersensitive, or some shit like that, but I'm really hurting from this. It's not the first time this has happened in some form, and maybe I should have prepared myself.

I feel really, really lonely right now. And I've been crying about this a little while.

::sigh::

I hope I'm never thoughtless again. Now I know how it feels when I hurt someone accidentally.

I got tagged. What what!

Tagged by Tummy

The rules:
a. Link to the person who tagged you.
b. Post the rules on your blog.
c. Write six random things about yourself.
d. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
e. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment at their blog.
f. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

1. I got appx 4-5 hours of sleep last night, due to being in all sorts of uncomfortable positions, many of which were caused by misplaced cats.

2. There are now pretty petunias on my porch, thanks to a trip to Wholefoods, which also yielded 2 delicious (non-vegan) chocolate chip cookies. The vegan ones taste like sawdust.

3. I feel no shame for drinking a can of Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi for breakfast.

4. I'm debating a walk to Center City today just to buy a decent hamburger. I need motivation for my walks, and there is a Five Guys on Chestnut. There is also a Chick-Fil-A on Market somewhere.

5. I'm expecting a really nice piece of glass artwork in the mail today.

6. I think I may be too obsessed with Lost - I am now completely adamant about naming my first son Desmond.

I am going to try my best to tag people who have yet to be tagged. This is also known as "impossible."

Cyggie
Puffy
Breezy
Silvergirl
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Why I don't care about Idol

Listening to: Boz Scaggs - Lido Shuffle

This is not going to be a very long post.

I don't like American Idol. The music it produces is invariably not my thing, and with the notable exception of Taylor Hicks, I have never found anyone on that I even slightly enjoy, style-wise. Blue-eyed soul for the win!

I think my primary problem with the show is this: You basically go in as a stereotype. You know and are always cogent of the fact that you are MARKETING yourself as a specific kind of product. You can be talented as all hell (and I won't deny that there is talent present), but in the end, it is people declaring that you are "the rocker." You can't just be some guy with a shitty haircut who can sing like rock music - you have to market yourself as the "rocker product."

I'm just saying, vary it up. Don't let a pigeon hole be what makes you win.

...

But then, my favorite bands are led by people who are either artists strung out on redonkulous amounts of cocaine (David Byrne of Talking Heads), prematurely gray with a very, very distinct baritone voice (Michael McDonald of The Doobie Brothers), prematurely bald with a very, very distinct throaty voice (Phil Collins of Genesis), or ugly as sin (Donald Fagen/Walter Becker of Steely Dan; Geddy Lee of Rush).

Granted, they've all had their successes, but it wasn't for being presented as "rockers." They were just guys who played rock-music.

Oh... and I guess I'm just not that impressed by a singer who can... ::gasp:: play an instrument!

I mean, holy hell, Phil Collins sings and plays a massive 14-something-tom drumkit while doing so!

Gawds.

Listening to: Waiting For Guffman Soundtrack - "Stool Boom"

HA! One of the funniest movies ever. I mean, a frakkin' song about footstools? What's not to love?

So, "summer" is officially upon me, in the form of an education class. It's my first not-English class since May of 2006, and I am actually very relieved. I think I was generally getting completely bogged down by having to read and dissect books until they were no longer interesting. Granted, I've got to do that hardcore in the Fall, but in the meantime, I'm going to enjoy learning about how to effectively teach. I think it might qualify as "fun." Maybe I'll actually end up with a real job by the time I'm, oh, 26.

::le sigh::

One of my poet friends had a big writer-party on Saturday which was hell of fun. Lots of writers, writer-lovers, and hangers on; many were people I've been very tight with, and many were people I had never met before. I always like meeting the significant others of my fiction buddies, and I got to do as such. I'm contemplating dragging Steve to another such writer party in the near future. I just hope he's agreeable. He felt intimidated the last time I introduced him to some friends... that seems to happen from time to time. I've certainly sold him as being a great person, and fuck, even I can't keep up with the "educated" discussion that goes on most of the time. I tend to nod, eat, drink a beer, and look at the TV to see how the baseball game's going. But then, I'm a strange egg.

In the meantime, I need to find some short-term work. Given the intensity of this class I'm taking (not to mention its rather annoying hours of 5-8 pm, Tuesday and Thursday), it's going to be tough to find something I can do for some spare change. Mom suggested waitressing, which I have never done before. I have heard good and bad things. I'm quite personable, but I have a brain like a colander, when it comes to memorizing things, and very poor balance.

On a side note, I seem to keep gaining weight, according to WiiFit. Granted, I thought it was a little off when it weighed me the first time (about 7 or 8 pounds off...), but come on, I'm workin' my butt off!

The yoga and strength-training parts are getting a lot easier now. I think that's something to be proud of. I actually feel a bit more flexible.

I <3 TV

Listening to: The Pointer Sisters - Neutron Dance

I'm just burnin' doin' the Neutron Dance.
Woo Hoo!

Damn I love that song.

Today's post is dedicated to one of my best friends: Television.

Last night, my friend the idiot box gave me three solid, back-to-back hours of very good entertainment.

First, Survivor, which featured YET ANOTHER round of utter stupidity (gawds, I love this season - it's not "fans versus favorites," it's "people who have watched the show and learned absolutely nothing" against "people who have sort of tweaked their old game, but are otherwise the things you still love and hate about their original character." I really, REALLY wish I could be on this show. I need to save the name of fans- seriously. I want to be the Rob Cesternino, subtracting "from Long Island" and adding "from 6 miles north of Long Island." Alas, on the meds, it is impossible to have that dream.

Then, CSI. I do not usually watch this show, but then I saw the preview. Stephen Toblowski and Katey Sagal as guest stars. WOW. My all-time favorite character actor, and the voice of one of my favorite cartoon characters (Turanga Leela, of Futurama) together at last, in one awesome, hilarious, violent episode. And using a rubber chicken as a flail? C'est magnifique.

Finally, Lost, giving me what I love the most: a Locke episode that actually reveals some important stuff about who he is. I feel for Locke - a lot. He has such a sad, awful backstory, and such a profound sense of naivite and strength. He's probably one of the most complex television characters of all time, and for that, I am thoroughly impressed by the writers of this show. And the Horace time-loop thing was mindblowing. Whoa.

I respect Lost so much, as both a viewer and a writer - it is like reading an incredible novel, with very deft placement of time switches, changes in narrator, creation of the tiniest of details, while only revealing a little at a time. I'd call it a divine mystery.

And this is where I reach my complaint. Not about Lost, but about my peers in the writing department. A lot of them snub tv in general as a waste, a corporate product. I will not debate the product part, but my goodness, this is an important composition, folks. Thankfully, a couple of my fellow fiction writers watch along with me, so I at least have people I can exchange show-gossip with.

Steamfresh

Listening to: 10cc - Dreadlock Holiday*

(* For the record, I do not watch the popular television program "American Idol"® and thus am not listening to this song as an homage to departed television contestant Jason Castro. This is merely a coincidence.)

It may not be hot in Philly right now, but the humidity is hovering somewhere between steamy and raunchy. It is going to be a rather grody weekend, weather-wise, which I suppose will lend itself to the writing of my final paper for the literacy class. I will have very limited motivation to leave my apartment, which means... more time to play XBOX!

No. Bad Julia.

For the life of me, I cannot remember what I was dreaming about last night - I had that thing where you wake up with the alarm, and it's as if your brain-toilet flushed and you can't think hard enough about where you just were 5 seconds ago. Perhaps I've indulged in my strange or wonderful dreams too many times - it seems like the only ones I can remember any more are scary or creepy ones which don't allow me to fall back asleep. Which reminds me, I had a really vivid dream about Locke from Lost a few weeks back.

NO, not a sexy dream. It was firmly in the creepy category, although it did provide insights into island mythology which are almost certainly not true, as they came from my brain and not the actual show.

Feh. I could write that show. But then it wouldn't be fun to watch anymore.

Apologies

Listening to: the fan in my room

The apologies are for not writing anything in a while. In my defense, I was in New York for the weekend (and a couple days). I had the distinct pleasure of returning to an apartment which smells suspiciously more like cat pee than when I left. I hate that. You never know where it's coming from.

Got back my manuscript (yaaaay! I passed!) with some nice comments. Both readers said that I write very clean and accurate/sharp stuff with clever observations, although one noted that it was "hardly ever extraordinary." I can deal with that. He said that some of my other work had strong social implications, as well as some very interesting surrealistic perspectives. The other, my adviser, told me that the only problem with my work was that the humor could have been more developed. At any rate, I'm glad they liked what I presented.

I really hope I can get into a pair of education classes this summer. Otherwise, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing - I don't have a job lined up. Crap.

Last day o' classes!

Listening to: Sophie Ellis Bextor - Murder on the Dance Floor

Yay! It's time for my last class of the semester - Community Literacy. It's been a really interesting class, getting me even further interested in teaching English, while at the same time, it has given me a better perspective on the work I was doing over at the learning center. I really, really love seeing people discover that they enjoy reading, or cracking the code that is English grammar, or writing something they're proud of. English as a subject always brought me joy when I was in school - it was definitely my favorite part of the day. I can only hope that I'm good enough to make my own students feel that way.

One of my classmates asked me yesterday why I wanted to teach, and I explained that English was what I loved, and I figured that staying in school would really benefit nobody but myself. She said that made sense. Then I mentioned that, ideally, I'd be teaching middle school. I got a number of weird looks.

Well, someone has to do it, right?

In the meantime, I need to hammer out a decent short story/creative piece as my final project for the Literacy class. I discussed prison tattooing as its own discourse, and the concepts of public and private discourse as they related to prison tattoos. I'm thinking I'm going to take the subject further, and assemble something of a creative "guide" on the subject, both in the messages the tattoos could theoretically send to members of four audiences (the anti-tattoo, the non-tattooed, the tattooed, and the prison-tattooed), and tips for language interpretation. I've become known in the CW department for really messing around with form, so this might be a time for me to really go crazy while trying to explain a concept that is pretty foreign to a lot of people; granted, it can only really be from my perspective, but I'm good at this ^__-

So we've chatted...

Listening to: Steely Dan - Razor Boy

Steve and I have thought about an option for a couple years, vacation-wise, but never acted upon it, and after a chat yesterday, I think we have figured it out for sure...

Oregon. In the summer, specifically.

It is absolutely gorgeous. Mountains for hiking, trails for biking, abundant places for canoeing (Steve doesn't do white-water rafting, unfortunately) and lots of berries to be picked and consumed. The weather is pitch-perfect in the summer, and there are plenty of pretty trees to protect the pasty-couple's glow in the dark skin from the sun. It's also not horrifically expensive, so we could in theory go for something like 5 days and not be completely skint when we leave.

Planning will be a work in progress. But I think the location is settled upon.

On to the weight-loss front:

I chatted with Dr. Shrink today to figure out something about my weight (he monitors it when I come in for visits), and we pinpointed the exact moment where I gained something like 8-9 lbs: when I got off Welbutrin, last June. AHA! I knew it couldn't just be me! Granted, some of it probably IS me, but at least it's not entirely my fault.

To combat the late-night eating, I have purchased a favorite snack of mine - sugar free popsicles. 15 damn calories, and very little else. They're sweet, which I like, and contain nothing that will make me fat overnight. No more bedtime hamburgers for me!

My dad and I have stumbled across an exercise option that seems perfect for my interests, as well as the location where I live: ROWING. I am a fiend on the rowing machine (one of which is neither in my apartment's gym, Temple's gym, or the Philadelphia Sports Club - WTF?), and I need my body back in the shape it used to be, what with the cut arms and presence of a hard stomach. I can take lessons over at a boat club on the Schuykill, for which my dad has awesomely agreed to pay, because he knows I will enjoy it - so off to the phone I go to schedule a lesson.

Feel the burn

Listening to: Michael Jackson - Remember the Time

Nothing like some upbeat MJ to get your blood pumping as you fiddle around with the stupid elliptical to make sure your heart rate doesn't go above 163. The good news is, I think I've finally got my heart rate under control as far as exercising is concerned, so that's one less thing to worry about. There is still the matter of my gut. I do not know how to make it leave, but I'll be damned if I have to elliptical every single day. My body recoils at fitness, I have discovered.

At least when all this rain/shitty weather is over, I can go walking to Rittenhouse Square and back without wondering if my knee is finally going to pop out of its socket. Damn you, elliptical.

I think my problem might be compulsive eating. At night, specifically. I cannot train my body to not be hungry, and last night I caved in horribly. I made a hamburger at midnight. It was ungarnished and George-Foremanized, so it shouldn't be AWFUL for me, but I know it's definitely not good for me by any means.

::sigh::

So, Steve gave me wonderful news about a couple upcoming bonus checks (congratulations, honey!) and thus launched the first ACTUAL REALISTIC discussion about potential vacations. He is not paying for me (and should not pay for me), so I need to dig into my coffers a bit to make this work - and damn if I can't shake Hawaii from my mind. It's the happiest place on earth! Pineapple! Snorkeling! Mahi Mahi! Volcanoes! Hiking! SEXY! And, oh, EXPENSIVE!

That said, I shall need to devise some kind of more affordable substitute. Anyone have anything nice to tell me about the Bahamas or Virgin Islands? Ideally, I want a place suitable for activities which aren't lying on the beach, because that's simply not my schtick. Or Steve's. We're not sunlovers. We're just... into enjoyment of the outdoors, but without the death-hikes.

WTF, Old Navy?

Listening to: Hall and Oates - Say it Isn't So

Bleh. Why would anyone want to go out into the rain when they have no real reason to do so? I certainly don't.Today, my job consists of breaking in a slightly-too-small Old Navy polo, with hopes that it will never, ever shrink like so many of their other crappy products. I tried on the Large, and it was essentially a collared muu-muu for someone a good 30 lbs bigger than me. The medium, which I bought, is just tight enough that if I don't really stretch it out, a little bit of gut peeks through.

Not good.

You'd think sizing would be a little more, I don't know, slightly more sensible. Instead, we have "shirts for people with no boobs" and "shirts for the full-figured," and nothing for those of us who are in between.

I should really get rid of that gut, but short of lipo, I'm not sure how to get it to leave.

Why I <3 Mets Baseball.

Well, at least the sidebar sentiments are known, if truncated. Philly sucks. And my Metsies are starting to rebound a little, taking a series away from Atlanta. The Phils lost to the Pirates today... Thereby, the two are currently tied for second, one game back from Florida (which is really kind of sad), with the Mets having the slightly better winning percentage.

I have never really taken out a moment to discuss my undying love for our nation's pastime, as it is reflected in Flushing, Queens. Therefore, I am going to present this as if it were a personal essay, with fairly accurate informations.

I think a lot of it comes from growing up in downstate New York. People there have baseball roots that leach deep into their family's genetics, due to the city's history, and there are, as well, the obvious geographic ties to the teams. If you were from the Bronx, it was obvious that you were a Yankee fan - Westchester, too (but that's likely because both are really into spending a lot of money to get things they think they want which turn out to be disappointments). If you were from Queens or Long Island, you were a Mets fan - and there were also the disenfranchised Dodgers fans.

Therein comes my grandpa, Gerry. Gerry grew up in Brooklyn from a more American, less Jewish household, and was, of course, a Dodgers fan, albeit not rabidly so. He never liked the Yankees - the seats at their games were too expensive. He waited it out.

In 1962, the year the Mets came into existence, my father was 10 and living on Long Island's south shore. It was around then that he went to see the Mets play at the old Polo Grounds (which I think is awesome). In 1964, the Worlds' Fair came to Queens along with Shea, and my dad could more easily go to games, and thus he did, although, again, he was not rabid. But he was defiantly not-a-Yankee fan.

In 1984, I was born, and my parents were (and still are) living in Westchester county, a Yankee fan hotbed. The Yankees, alas, were suffering from '80s sickness, and some folks defected around this time, just in time for 1986, when the Mets made it to the series.

At some point, they defected back. Some time, oh, around 1996, when Steinbrenner opened his enormous wallet and took a gigantic money crap on the team. Suddenly, the Yankees were the Team To Beat - it is at precisely this moment that the Rat-Bastard Yankee Fan came into existence.

The RBYF* is not to be confused with the old school fans who have been around since the lean years, who carry the old RC Cola bags and can have friendly discussions with you without screaming "fuck the Mets" at you. Rather, the RBYF* provided just the spark the Mets needed, fan-wise. It became an attempt to prove "I will NEVER root along with a bunch of screaming, red-hat wearing shitheads who don't know crap about baseball."

Something amazing I have discovered about Mets fans is that they're incredibly knowledgeable about the sport, and most of them stuck with the Mets through some really terrible years of "baseball". A couple years ago, we got some of our own Bandwagoneers, but they quietly disappeared after the, um, incident last year.

I am proud to be among this legion of fans.

So to all you folks out there who cheer for teams that others laugh at, I salute you.

...

Unless you like the Cubbies.

Well, I did it.

Listening to: Steely Dan - King of the World

Yesterday, for the first time in dog knows how long, I posted my truest, most heartfelt feelings on the subject of politics and why I find them so repulsive. It's the pain they cause in peoples' hearts, and the divisions that arbitrarily make people hate each other, no matter what the rest of that person's actions and kindnesses might dictate.

And I got some very kind feedback, words that made me feel good for having an opinion and actually STATING it, rather than being a coy devil's advocate.

I'm not a coy devil's advocate. I am a proponent of the gray-area theory, the kind that implies that nobody truly has the perfect grasp of right and wrong, and that it isn't a good idea to assume anything about someone based on their politics. Someone may be pro-life and love their family, their neighbors, their life, and the lives of others. Someone may be anti-capitalist and have a great talent, or bring beauty to the world, or do something incredible that betters the lives of others.

Any person is capable of a great and wonderful thing, and I don't think that has anything to do with how one votes. It is a matter of following one's heart.

Disagree with someone, but do not assume you know anything about them based on their party affiliation.

I'm not some pot-smoking hippie.

I'm a writer, I'm a capitalist, I'm sarcastic, I cry, I have people I love, and I have nobody that I hate.

Kimmah's Survey

1. Are you a righty or a lefty?

Ambi - well, right for most activities, including writing, but lefty for fencing. Turns out I'm left-footed.

2. What is your official job title - Graduate Student. Oy.

3. You can only watch one show---there are limitless episodes. What do you pick? Oooh... Either Lost or Seinfeld. I cannot live without either.

4. What color eyeshadow do you wear most often? - I own exactly one eyeshadow, which I barely ever use - it's a light silvery-blue.

5. Describe your current favorite outfit. - AE Boyfriend '77 jeans, a 3/4 sleeve Old Navy henley layered over a solid tank, and my flamingo Vans.

6. What color is your kitchen? - White, like every room in my apartment.

7. Who was your first kiss and what was the situation? - My first boyfriend, in 9th grade. We had been "dating" for a couple weeks and he finally just planted one on me.

8. Who is the smartest person you know online? - Not going to answer this one. I'm a diplomat.

9. Why do you not have a myspace if you don't have one? When are you going to get one? If you DO have one--how long have you had it? - my friends told me I should. I never use it.

10. Who is the most annoying famous person? Eff... Paula Abdul? Ryan Seacrest? I hate those two both with a burning passion.

Oh grow up

Listening to: Rush - Limelight

I am a poster on a couple boards, one of which has many probably-underage people from the UK who brag about how many drugs they do ("so I did heroin, and I DON'T FEEL ADDICTED! Therefore, I will not get addicted!"). I shake my head and can only laugh at this destructive behavior, because my chidings that doing heroin is fucking stupid go ignored. Whatever. I've been interested in the drug-user scene for a while (apparently, I barely qualify) just to see how the psychology works, as well as studying the cultural aspects of it. Call it an anthropology thing. That's how I choose to look at it.

One common thread that has come up on a lot of the drug-related forums I keep an eye on is this concept of, well, I do drugs, and I get good grades, therefore drugs are good for me! Look at how amazing I am! This rationale makes my eyes roll like ball-bearings down a steep hill. I admit, I am not a particularly logical person, but I do know that just because a and b are present does not mean that if a, then b. That's just silly.

I will not excuse my own habits. I will not say that there are no repercussions for what I choose to do - my memory's not as great as it used to be, and I'm sure there's some relation. But it has its benefits; I certainly prefer being mellowed out to being painfully aware of my paranoia. And I like sleeping, too.

All that said, I do NOT understand bragging about drug use, from anyone of any age, coupled with claims of being spectacular, therefore making the implication that the user is so fantastic that they are able to accomplish great things in spite of the drugs. Good for you! You use substances! I try not to be obvious - with the exception of OT, where it's more of a caricature than anything else. You couldn't pin me for it in "real life." I stay clean when it's prudent. You will never see me making any irresponsible choices, such as going to class, or work, or driving, or leaving my apartment, while under the influence.

That's for stupid kids.

Calling OT

Alright, any and all readers from OT. Here's your mission.

Convince me to stay. Please, please convince me to stay.

Addendum

Listening to: Gnarls Barkley - The Last Time

I paid $600 to get my car fixed. Ouch.

Also, there was aline at Five Guys practically out the door. I thought about Qdoba and opted against it, knowing there was a Chipotle nearby.

I did not find said Chipotle, and ended up having a bad bowl of soup and odd-tasting sourdough loaf at Panera. I usually like Panera, but it tasted crappy today.

::grimble grumble::

At least my brakes don't screech anymore.

Burgerlicious.

Listening to: Talking Heads - Artists Only

Well, off to get Isis fixed up today. I hope it takes under a couple hours - I don't want to have to haul ass to Ardmore, drop her off, take the train home, take the train back some time later, and drive her home again. That'd be annoying, although it's unfortunately happened before. Still, there's a number of things that need to be fixed ::frown:: I should have taken better care of her.

Oh well. It'll give me time to read Heart of Darkness while I wait. Plus, I get to go to Five Guys for lunchy goodness. I'll spend about 5 seconds telling myself, "Julia, you do not need a double hamburger with onions and A-1" and then I will buy it, along with the traditional BAG O' FRIES. All this exercising lately, so I can occasionally gorge like a crazy person.

I know people talk a lot of crap about Five Guys, particularly West Coast In-n-Out snobs. Well, you can all guy to hell - I love a good reasonable-priced burger and fry meal that doesn't come pre-glopped with ketchup and mustard and crap. Just onions and A-1, baby.

HEADACHE

Listening to: the pounding in my skull

OW OW OW. I don't know where this recent spate of headaches has come from, but I never want to feel them again. It feels like it's based in my sinuses, but then it shifts over to my temples. It's like my head is being crushed all over.

Reading plenty today. I keep reading Beans: A World History, but I know I have to get reading on Heart of Darkness soon, since it's due on thursday. ::sigh:: Beans are more interesting, methinks. Called the Honda dealership today, too, and set up an appointment to get poor Isis looked at. The brakes sound awful (my dad noted that my four years of urban driving probably caused this), and my back wiper's shredded. Needless to say, my car is looking and sounding a little haggared, considering it's only 4 years old. Poor dear.

Getting way pumped for my reading on March 6th and my vacation on the 9th. I can't freakin' wait. It's gonna be awesome! Colorado in March is always gorgeous, and by then, Steve's 4th nephew will be among us. I've already volunteered to cook and babysit. Must make self look like family member - they already consider me one, but we're the young, unmarried couple - I guess it's a compensation thing.