Rockin' the Suburbs

It's amazing how quickly one can adapt to a change of environment. Friday morning I was eating a real NY bagel in Washington Square Park. Last night I chilled at the U's house for Lisa's graduation party and knocked back a few Sam Summers with the gang. This morning I had brunch with Mia and Andy (who were up in Boston for a wedding on a Duck tour - read it again, it'll say the same thing) at cute cafe in downtown Wakefield, where my breakfast wrap (aloha - egg, swiss cheese, ham and pineapple - delicious) barely outpriced my small iced mocha ($3.75 to $3.03). And this afternoon I mowed the lawn. The only thing that could have topped off my day to make it a little more suburbalicious would have been a nice cold wine cooler to enjoy on the back porch while I read the Globe's sports page and checked out what's on sale at Kohl's this week.

P.S. I also got carded (or as we say around here, "cAHdid") at the movies when I went to see Knocked Up. The woman at the ticket counter said, "Can I see your ID?" To which I replied, "Yes, yes you can." I never want to BE 16 again, but if I look 10 yrs younger than I am - no prob.

She's here!!!

My beautiful niece, Kayley Sophia Spindler, arrived at 7:58 pm Friday, June 22.

She weighs 7 lbs, 15 oz, is 21" long, and has a full head of hair.

Both Mom and Baby are doing well and should be going home tomorrow afternoon.

Kayley was just waiting for Auntie Amy to get home, and I'm so excited you're finally here!!!

The City So Nice, They Named it Twice

It's my last day in NYC. I know I'm moving to San Diego, but I haven't really come to grips with the corollary - that I might never live in NYC again! I remember exactly when this place went from being a urine-soaked sess pool to feeling like home. Kiley stayed over at my apt in midtown, and we got up really early (7 am is obscene to me) and went to Starbucks. The street was still fairly quiet, with porters hosing down the sidewalks in front of their buildings and breakfast carts setting up on street corners. We were dressed like lazy students - not the standard attire for my investment banker neighborhood - and Kiley looked up at the sky and said, "I love this city." That's when it happened for me - like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, my heart grew inside. My defenses were always so rigid, I hadn't been fully enjoying my life here. When ever I rent a car and drive back into the city there's a point coming out of Queens before you go over the Triboro bridge (which is retarded for only having 2 cash lanes, but that's another post) where you get this amazing view of the city's skyline, and I always say to myself, "Ah, there she is."

So it's a bittersweet parting, New York, I will always love you, and have so many wonderful memories. Who knows if I'll ever live here again, but there will always be a part of me that's a New Yorker (let's keep our fingers crossed that part of me doesn't get me arrested in the significantly more laid back environs of SoCal.)

I thought it a fitting farewell to reflect on some of my favorite things about living in this city:

• My friends - we're all in NY for a reason, and this city will always be part of what binds us
• the diversity - not everyone is tan, blond, fit with perky breasts and Ugg boots for every season, and that's a good thing
• individuality - you can be anyone in this city, and you can change who you want to be day to day, or just find a way to accommodate all the different parts of you every day of the month. I used to look at clothes and think, "I love that, but where would I wear that?" This became a non-issue here.
• Access - I'm literally gobsmacked when I go home to my parents' house, and I can't get tacos delivered at 2 am on a Sunday.
• Public transport - cities are much greener than we think. And even though I've had some bad experiences on the subway, it's an equal opportunity transport system.

NYC - the final countdown

I'm leaving the city in 2 days and miraculously I haven't had a full blown panic attack yet. (I started feeling dizzy last night but nothing a strong cocktail couldn't calm). I have done as much grading as I can, finished my paid textbook-bitch (er, I mean...editing) work, and am going to pack my office. Two more hrs til we get to leave and go to Sweet & Viscious for my going away drinks. I tend to get really anxious when I'm "hosting" something, especially when I'm coming different groups of friends. I'm trying to chill out and just think of it as "receiving hours" (MMR said it's like a wake: 2-4 and 7-9). I'll just sit there and let people bring me drinks. Jane's in charge of bringing me water every hour b/c I have 1 more class to teach tomorrow morning at 9am. (I use the word "teach" very loosely here; I'm bringing them juice and donuts and tonight have to think of something fun but relevant to discuss. I'm sure I'll come up with something brilliant around drink #5).
Still no baby Spindler yet - she's holding out for Auntie.

They're banning fat trannies?

No, but NYC has banned trans fats. There's been a lot of hullabaloo around the decision, and I think it will continue to be a much debated topic in the news for some time to come. My friend David, who is writing his dissertation on trans fats and the social implications of designating substances as "risky", has an online article you should check out if you want more info about the topic. He is one smart, zero trans fat, cookie. [Ironically, he also has an article on trannies.]

Play that funky music

Because my friends are super-awesome, we had a surprise karaoke party for 3 of us who are leaving Puck (RKG and CEB because they actually got tenure track jobs, me just because I'm trying desperately to have an adult relationship). We pulled some good songs out of the woodwork that night, so I did a small iTunes binge. Here are some recent additions to my playlists (many of these were not performed at karaoke night, but resulted from the search and download process):

• Never Gonna Give You Up - Rick Astley
• Ditty - Team Classick
• Girls & Boys - Blur
• Hey Sexy Lady - Shaggy
• Trout - Neneh Cherry
• What About Love - Heart
• Alone - Heart
• Maneater - Daryl Hall & John Oats
• I Tough Myself - Divinyls

Heart, in fact, is a new life-changing force in my, err...life. If you haven't seen the video for "Alone", it's a must. Exploding pianos, backless dresses, half-veils, reclined-kneeling guitar solos - it's a audio-visual masterpiece. They were clearly feminist pioneers in 80's hair rock. (And Paula Abdul choreographed the video, which explains the horse's cameo).

Plugged in, I completed a solid hour of really good work today. If that doesn't sound like much of an accomplishment, you don't understand the inner workings of life as a career student.

Detox?

Paul has been slowly going soft during his time in San Diego, but I new things were getting a little out of hand when he started talking about having a wheat grass garden (if that happens, I'm buying a deep fryer in protest). Somewhere between his 30th and 31st birthdays he started talking about juicing, so I figured I would buy him one as a belated birthday gift (no worries - he doesn't read this). I figure one of the upsides of cohabiting will be that I can directly benefit from the things I buy him! I think I've settled on the Hamilton Beach Big Mouth Pro; I'm just waiting to see what type of ridiculous bargain Aunt Mary can find for me.

Since I'm going to have to embrace the pro-health SoCal lifestyle to some extent and am looking to lose some of my grad school poundage (a common scene from my office: hmm, work on article, or snack time...snack time!) I thought I'd look into some of the benefits of juicing.

Apparently juice fasting has a quasi-religious appeal for some people. To really get into it you have to restrict your diet in a way I'm not willing to - for starters it's a supreme amount of effort with buying mass quantities of organic fruit and veg, cutting out meat and animal products, taking supplements, etc. And if the process of juice fasting wasn't enough of a hassle, here are some of the possible - nay, common - side effects:

• headaches
• dizziness
• nausea
• bad breath
• glazed eyes
• a heavily coated tongue
• intense hunger
• pain in your lungs.
• large volumes of yellow-colored mucus expelled by the lymphatic system through the nose or throat

- and then an enema is highly recommended for whatever is going on in your colon. Maybe part of the weight lost comes from vomiting at your own disgustingness.

I think I'm going to leave good enough alone for now and let the toxins hang out in my body, especially during the first few months Paul and I are living together - that'll be the real present.

Reasons not to eat in bed

At some point I stocked piled Lean Cuisine frozen entrees because they were on sale 2/$5. It's coming in handy now as I've got less than a week left in my apt and can't be bothered to grocery shop or cook (or clean or take care of myself properly for that matter). So yesterday I was sitting on the edge of my bed with my laptop on the window sill because it makes a good impromptu desk and because it's the most effective position for me to poach wifi. I miscalculated the distance from the black plastic container to my mouth with a forkful of pot roast and mashed potatoes and it landed on the sheets. On a scale of 1-10, how disgusting is it that I'm not going to wash or change the sauce-stained bed linens before I leave Friday?*

*Maybe it's because I watch too many CSI, Without a Trace, etc. style shows, but I often think about what would the police would think about my life is something happened to me:

"We've got some weird substance on the sheets - I'll get it to
the lab."

[later that day...] "Any update on the samples from her bed?"
"Well she wasn't getting any, but that might be because she
was eating Lean Cuisines in bed."

Flag Day

So many important things need to be celebrated today! Not only is it flag day, it's also Mia's birthday - Happy Birthday, Mia!! - and it's Stephanie's due date!!!

Now, I know no one wants this baby to arrive more than Stephanie, but my little niece is showing her grandmother's Larson colors (if it were LeClair genes kicking in should would have been here weeks ago - Steph & I were both 2 weeks early and my grandparents arrived at 11 am for a 1:30 Christmas dinner this year!) and doesn't seem so interested in coming out to play (or to coo and cry and poop, more accurately). I have mixed feelings, because if she holds off til next week Steph'll be induced, and I'll be home the next day. However, there are lots of people REALLY looking forward to the birth of this baby (my dad seems fated to only have girl babies in his life, but he's never been more excited about something), so sooner is probably better than later, especially for Steph so that, among the many, many reasons, her feet can start to shrink back to their normal size and she can rescue all those shoes that have been banished to the basement as of late.

Deal or No Deal?

What do we think about these shoes?

They're originally $79.95, but I saw them at DSW for $69.96 and I have a $10 coupon. I know $60 for a pair of ballet-flat style trainers is a little absurd, but they are silky soft, cushioned for extra comfy-ness, and sooooooooo cute. Thoughts? Comments? Opinions?

Extreme Makeover: Homo Edition

After spending much of yesterday wanting to crawl into the bath tub with a hair dryer, Peter brought me back from the edge by (finally!) sending me some pics from the weekend we demolished/renovated his apt:

As Peter said, "Who needs those 5 gay guys when you've got the weekend warriors?"

I'm so butch I make k.d. lang look like a Pussycat Doll. [p.s. Can you see what we were up against? Look behind me and to the right - that's red brocade fabric stapled and nailed (with no rhyme or reason) to the wall, framed with molding spray painted gold, and then with square tiles of mirror glued to the fabric. I shit you not.]

Spray paint bandit - yet another of the many hats I wear. [Note: if you're going to spray paint indoors make sure you've got the windows wide open, a strong cross breeze, and some powerful fans. You don't want to end up googling the medical histories of graffiti artists in an attempt to explain the weird rashes under your eyes.]

You'd be drinking, too

It's 6:41 pm. I'm less than 1/2 way through the midterms I have to grade, and I've just poured myself a very generous glass of wine. You'd be drinking, too, if you had to read these answers (to the question "Is NYU a gendered institution?"):

The concept of a gendered institution is conceptualized based on the influence of social and private spheres, and how gender is affected by them. It can simply be stated as being less accessible based on wither you are identified as a man or woman.

Oh, Mr. Darcy, wither the days of gender and gentry?

These schools in NYU are based on a gendered institutionalized system, all but one school, the College of Arts and Sciences (CAS) is happily un-gendered do [sic] to so many areas of study, and the overwhelming population.

Where to start? First of all, CAS, like most schools, is bottom-heavy with female undergrads (almost 70%), and then the percent of women drops steadily as one moves through the graduate, adjunct, assistant faculty levels, with men over-represented at the level of full-time tenured faculty. Secondly, what the fuck does "un-gender" mean? Third, who's overwhelmed by the population? The students? The residents of Greenwich village? The TAs grading the papers?

Hours that classes are being held should be also considered, some males have different sleeping habits, and class structure is important. [on how NYU could be more gender neutral, which apparently this student equates with have a 50/50 split for males and females in the undergrad population]

Okay, now this is just down-right insulting to men. Are they really so incompetent that they can't get themselves out of bed for class in the morning? Although, I think that was the reason Gus dropped his education major...

And finally, the dazzling conclusion:

New York University in all its glory is a great institution; it is nationally accredited and has been rank by Princeton Review (2006) to be the most desirable University in the Nation. Hopefully, within the next couple of years, or within the next decade NYU will get the students body, and willingness that it deserves. If the current courses of action are taken by NYU's board this could be a great school that is clearly gender neutral.

Why the Random capital Letters? Which student's body? Whose willingness? I'm left wanting so, so much more!

And I would have broken into the hard alcohol already if it weren't for the articulate and coherent thoughts of some other students:

Furthermore, gender stratification allows for differences in the distribution of certain resources between men and women, and consequently results in the unequal attainment of income and power between the two sexes on the institutional level.

Indeed!

There will always be gender present in organization, but what needs adjustment is the value we assign to it.

Is there hope?

It is important to remember that since gender has been constructed by society, the meanings behind gender can be modified and changed by society.

Amen to that. Now pass the 'grigio

Sympathy Anxiety Dreams

In the wee hours of Saturday morning I had a terrible nightmare that my sister was killed in a car accident. I was in hysterics at the funeral (and, incidentally, my parents didn't seem to be working too hard in their consoling efforts), and then woke up in a panic thinking, "but where's the baby?!?" because in the dream Steph wasn't pregnant, and in real like she's due in 4 days. I called Steph a little later and her cell phone was off, which gave me a brief moment of panic that she had gone into labor and no one had told me, but she called me back and reassured me that she was a) very much alive, b) sorry her phone had been off, and c) more ready than anyone for this baby to exit her body.

Last night I had a dream with a bizarre Pirates of the Caribbean theme (odd, especially since I saw that last week and Ocean's 13 last night), and might have included Katie Hiegl as well. Anywhoodle, I was at this bar where only people of Irish decent were allowed - obviously - and my sister left a booth and went outside, and when I saw her through the window I noticed she wasn't pregnant. I ran to her and we both started screaming until we realized the baby must have slipped out at home, and everything was going to be okay. [We can only pray for Steph that her delivery is that easy, but it seems highly unlikely - sorry dude.]

This baby needs to hurry on up because I can't keep sleeping like this! These dreams are worse than the pre-wedding one I had where I was at a bridal show at a Jessica McClintock vendor having a tent-like dress altered to fit when I realized the wedding was about to happen, I couldn't reach any of the other girls on their cell phones, and I ran across some weird courtyard into a castle-like structure when I was informed that I was too late to line up to be in the wedding. It was moderately traumatizing.

Good thing there are no major events happening in my life, I clearly wouldn't be able to handle them...

Discount Code

Further proof that you should always google "discount code" and the name of the website every time you're about to buy something online.

For the chic and organized, check out http://www.seejanework.com/, and if you see anything that strikes your fancy enter "Jane15" at checkout for a 15% discount (courtesy of Good Housekeeping, believe it or not.)

Celebrity Sighting

Who: Julianne Moore
What: jeans, casual sweater, hair in a pony tail, wearing her daughter's backpack
When: last night, around 8:00 pm
Where: outside radio bar in the West Village
Why: she was with some other adults, and it looked like they were coming back from a birthday party or play date
How: Dave needed to step outside the bar for a cigarette - I joined

Totally makes up for the dearth of sightings I've have living in NY for 4 years. [The others were Kiefer Sutherland, Kurt Vonnegut (not a "celebrity" for most people, but he was my neighbor), Philip Seymour Hoffman (pre-Capote), Kristen Johnston - twice, and Kerri Russell. I felt a little short changed considering my friends have seen Matt Damon, SJP and Matthew Broderick, Heath Ledger, Luke Wilson, and Snoop Dog.]

R.I.P. R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I'm fairly certain the words "religious" and "traditional" aren't often used to describe me, but even this modern agnostic has some sense of propriety. When you're pay your last respects to someone, dress the part. Don't show up like you just came from the beach. If you did just come from the beach, change. It's a wake for God's sake.

Admittedly I probably shouldn't have been outside playing fashion police with my aunt, but she needed a smoke. The two of us nearly choked to death when this girl rolled out of her PT Cruiser. Who shows up at a funeral home in a gauzy white see-thru sundress and aqua blue flip-flops? Flip-flops?! Seriously? Seriously. It's almost not even worth mentioning that her toes were painted the same shade of blue as the offending footwear.

The offense of her outfit was superseded only by the guy who cut into traffic between the hearse and the limo, and then passed the hearse over a double solid line. What is wrong with people?

26 and counting

When I was finishing college my sister, in her infinite wisdom, kept telling me that I should enjoy the moment because there's no such thing as a tolerance after graduation. Oh, how I wish I had listened. As my 20's edge closer to my 30's the pain of a hangover takes on new magnitudes. Margaritas and chips are delicious, but I'm not certain if there are still traces of blood in my tequila and sodium stream. I awoke as the puffiest girl in all the land - thank Jose Maria I keep a gel eye mask chilling in the fridge for just such an occasion. Now if I just keep telling myself that a lean pocket and a vitamin water will make it all better, if I believe this, then it will be so.

+ =

Victory!

My afternoon Scrabble match with Monika resulted in a 277-278 win for Mon, but I feel pretty damn good about myself for coming within 1 pt of her. While English is not her first language, she is a fierce Scrabble player. I prefer charades, but landing "frog" on a triple word score late in the game did give me a little rush.

Idols away

As predicted, Jordin Sparks won American Idol last night. So much to talk about from the show - we're going to bullet points:

• Did anyone besides Jane and I notice that Bette Midler can't sing any more?
• Blake and Doug E. Fresh were HOT! And I bet $20 Teri Hatcher (who was in the audience with her daughter) tried to screw them both after the show.
• We know the kids African Children's Choir are from Africa - the clue is in the name. Was it really necessary to drape them in animal skins?
• Paula's hair was so much better than the night before. Was it a wig Tuesday, or was she just too busy to brush her hair after tripping over her dog and breaking her nose? While I celebrate her sobriety, the finales are much more entertaining when she's bombed.
• What do you think Joe Perry was thinking when he was accompanying Sanjaya on "You Really Got Me"? My guess is it was something along the lines of, I'm a member of one of the most successful rock bands of all time, I'm a living legend, I'm slept with millions of women, and now I'm entertaining an emotionally disturbed 10-year-old? How did I get here?
• Who is styling Carrie Underwood? She is a gorgeous girl, I love her music, and yet she seems to have an unhealthy affinity for butt-veils. The gossamer train she wore last night wasn't nearly as offensive as the mourning peacock frock she sported at the AMA's, but it's a worrisome trend.
• What does Ruben Studdard get up to the other 364 days a year he's not at the American Idol Season Finale?
• I love Kelly Clarkson. That girl has got some pipes, and I love that her new song is about some guy that broke up with her, and now he has to hear it played on the radio, in the mall, on television...I don't have the resources for that type of post-breakup come back, so I'm glad that Kelly, who does, is using hers to the fullest.
• Chris Daughtry? One word: yum.

And the best part? So You Think You Can Dance starts tonight! I don't have to go one day without the reality tv talent contests that are so dear to me!

Teaching Moments

You just cannot make this stuff up. From a student response paper to Adrienne Rich's essay, "Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence":

Thus, as the ocean flows and react to El Nino wind patterns, mountain cougars thrive caring for packs, lesbians too respond to frictions that create havoc and possible extinction of their own environment.

You are what's on your feet?

A month or so Mrs. Hammond brought to my attention a new trend in footwear style - the cone heel. It's no secret that I love shoes, and I love ice cream, so in theory the equation seems simple:

something I love + something I love = something I really love

but in practice, shoes + ice cream cones = this, which I do not love. there's something painfully reminiscent about the drama club banquet junior year when I took off my shoes to dance and someone with the initials L.S. "accidentally" stepped on my foot, ripping through my control-top pantyhose and causing me to bleed, and that was just in regular heels

Weekend Recap

After a less-than-fantastic week I had a really great weekend that deserves to be homaged in a blog entry. Saturday Peter planned a surprise hot date for us - he wanted to share some of his favorite NYC experiences with me before I leave (a month from today - eek!). We started off with champagne and snacks chez Peter - which, might I add, is looking fabulous after phases 1 (bathroom) and 2 (kitchen) of Extreme Makeover: Homo Edition. Then we took the B/D uptown - I knew it must have been something pretty darn special for us to be venturing above 14th St. - and we watched the dress rehearsal of SNL with Zach Braff and Maroon 5!! It was so cool! They test some material that doesn't make it into the final live show so we got 2 good hours of comedy. Zach Braff if fantastic, you should definitely check out his tribute to the Garden State (and also the TV Funhouse clip with Oprah and the Presidential candidates - it's hysterical). I cannot wait for the new Maroon 5 CD to come out - they might be my new favorite non-new band. Afterwards we had a late dinner at a trendy lower east side byob Japanese restaurant with another friend and capped off the evening with some wine at 'inoteca.

Sunday I was deliciously lazy. I slept til about 10, read, surfed the web, had both breakfast and lunch in bed, and didn't get out of my pj's til about 2:30. It was so nice! Then SBK and RKG headed into Brooklyn (curse you Sunday night B train!) to join the rest of the gang for a BBQ at Tey's amazing brownstone. Beyond the usual chips 'n dip we had flank steak, perfectly grilled chicken, cold sesame peanut noodles, spiced broccoli and cauliflower, corn on the cob, orzo and sangria. Dessert was blueberry and apricot cobbler with vanilla ice cream and chocolate pudding pie. I looked about 4 months pregnant when I got home, but my taste buds were happy. BBQs aren't so easy to come by in the city, and this was a great way to cap off the academic year and kick off the summer. Did I mention Tey has a backyard? As her partner Alice would say, I'm peanut butter & jealous.

And now we're already well into a week of reality-tv finales! I've turned down offers for Mediterranean tonight and Korean fried chicken tomorrow because with Blake and Jordin in the American Idol finale the stakes are just too high.

Happy Thoughts

I haven't had the best of weeks (nothing tragic, just a serious of small things accumulating into a self-esteem slump), but rather than being a negative Nancy I thought I'd try this power of positive thinking crap and focus on some of the things that are making me happy:

• My students. They laughed at my "you can't get a vagina at Kmart or an organic one at Trader Joe's joke." They make teaching not suck.
• Sephora: I invested in i.d. bare minerals foundation and couldn't be happier with it - the perfect amount of coverage, totally evens out my complexion, and I'm not treading anywhere near Tammy Fay Baker land (make-up wise). I haven't watched the free DVD yet, but it's going to rain all weekend so I'm sure I'll find time. Also, I was skeptical about Urban Decay's primer potion, but it really works. I'm going to make this a permanent product; it's a simple step that really sets my eye color - just dab on a little before applying eye shadow and no more lid crease lines. And I have a feeling this $15 bottle is going to last ages.
• Target: It's on the must-do list whenever I go home, and all my fears about moving to San Diego are assuaged by the knowledge that I'll have a car and can go to Target whenever I want. On my last trip I bought 4 boxes of cereal for what 1 would have cost me at the corner deli. My sister's friend Lori had on a great dress at the baby shower, and I meant to ask her where she got it but forgot. Well, I was in Target later that day, and what did I find? The dress - $25, got loads of compliments, and it is the perfect fat day attire because the cut is incredibly forgiving, and paired with a long necklace and some fun gold sandals it perks you right up. I also scored a pair of gold ballerina flats for $15, and a matte L'oreal eye shadow quad that is now part of my everyday attire. I have been totally missing out with the matte eyeshadow - it makes such a difference!
• Friends: awwww. I love my friends, and not just for being all mushy. SBK and RKG totally commiserated w/ me after a crappy meeting with faculty saying all the right things ("He's a dick;" "They are so sexist;" "They're wrong.") SBK bought be Thai food and shared her beef pad see ew when then chicken in my pad thai was dry. Mish is having a "The Bachelor is a Douche" party Monday night (no seriously, that was the title on the evite) so we can watch someone have a nervous breakdown. And tonight Peter is taking me out to share his favorite things about NYC with me before I leave.

Step-funny, the curse continues

The women in my family aren't the most stable bunch, and I'm not just referring to our delicate emotional constitutions. The first fall I remember was down the cement stairs that led into the basement from the backyard; I was probably about 6. Obviously there were other trips and tumbles, but when I talk about our family's fall record I'm talking diggers, wipe-outs, full on ass-over-teakettle, sprawled on the ground, possibly needing outside assistance to get back on your own 2 feet.

The grammar school nurse, Mrs. Higgins, spent a significant amount of her working hours during the 1982-87 school years patching up my sister and me . Steph has had her fair share of stumbles, and this temporarily earned her the nick-name "Step-funny" in high school. When my Aunt Donna was younger she fell down the better part of the staircase inside the Bunker Hill Monument, stopped only by the kindly extended foot of a stranger (or so the story goes). Two years ago I accompanied her on the 2nd surgical attempt to repair her broken knee-cap. The injury resulted from an in-work fall when she missed a step and landed on her knee cap, literally shattering it (I've seen the x-rays, they're not pretty). She fell a 2nd time on ice, but fingers crossed the wires in her knee keep things together this time around. My mother - well cataloguing her falls would be a time consuming task, but suffice it to say I have an early memory of Mr. A., my first swim team coach, running down the pool deck (generally a no-no) and scooping up my mother after a nasty knee scraping.

So it should come as no surprise that falling in public is a big fear of mine, specifically a) at the gym, off the treadmill and b) in front of a class. There was a rather embarrassing fall in a shower that involved a white tube top and lots of alcohol, but, as mortifying as it was at the time, at least now it makes a pretty good party story. Luck has been on my side so far with the treadmill (although there was a close call when I tripped over my untied shoelace and was saved only by an attentive neighbor who reached over from his treadmill and hit the emergency stop button). This past year I had the unfortunate experience of falling off the slightly elevated teaching platform in front of 200+ students taking a midterm. "Breaching experiment," I yelled without missing a beat.

So today's event is realize just another in a long line of falls, an expression of my genetic predisposition to clumsiness. I told myself yesterday I'd take the stairs all summer to my classroom (it's only 2 flights). Well on the way down today I believe I caught the heel of my shoes in the hem of my pants. Whatever the cause, I missed a good 4 or 5 steps and landed not-so-softly at the bottom, losing both shoes and a significant chunk of my pride on the way down. My immediate thought was "crawl to safety before a student finds me!", but it was too late. Luckily it was just one, and she was very nice (poor thing look very troubled, she didn't know if she should get help or run away). So just in time for skirt season, I've got a scraped and bruised right knee, a left shin that is swelling by the minute and is probably going to look like a supernova in a day or two, some miscellaneous toe/foot bruising, and a deeply wounded ego.

Walk safely everyone.

Idols away

My Tuesday night class has ended and so last night I FINALLY got to watch Idol, and just in time. The performances were pretty good all around so I thought I'd comment on some more pressing issues.

First of all, I love Jordyn. And I love the dress she was wearing for her first song almost as much as I love her. I would really like to see her hair blown out with a nice round brush and perhaps touched up with a fat-barrelled curling iron, not with yucky straight ends like in those clips they showed of her back home. Also, she should never ever highlight her hair because it is a gorgeous brown, and that's not as easy to come by as it might seem (to be a gorgeous monotone brunette - not brassy or mousy - think, how many are there really).

Secondly, Janiac made a good point last night when she said she didn't really trust Melinda. M.Doolittle clearly has the best voice, that's not really a question, but this competition is about finding a pop star and she just doesn't really fall into that category. As I believe I've mentioned before, she's got a head like Guy Smiley's from Sesame Street, which just isn't right. Puppets are parodies of people; people should not look like puppets, even if puppets often look like people. She suffers from this in the same way as former nightly news anchor Roz Abrams, who also looks like a Crank Yanker. It's not right.

And then there's Blake. I might actually cry tonight if Blake gets eliminated. Beyond all reason and logic Blake actually makes sweater vests look sexy, and I think Blake and Justin Timberlake among the small handful of men who can pull off the zip-up hoodie/suit jacket combo without looking like complete douche bags (a la Ashton Kutcher - sorry if you're a fan but he is just so unbelievably full of himself). I will totally buy Blake's album when it comes out, and not just on iTunes - I will buy the actual physical CD so I can have him near me and look at pictures of him rockin' argyle.

Baby Shower!

After running around NY and FL for 2 weeks I made it back to the Boston area this weekend for my sister's baby shower. Her due date is 1 month from today, and I mentioned that the end of the shower would be a good time for her to go into labor (funnily, my sister disagreed), but Li'l Spins is almost done cookin' so she could really go any time now. It was a beautiful day, the Mac's were great hosts, and I enjoyed both the yummy food and the collective "ooohhh's" and "ahhhh's" over little girls clothes. I found these adorable "bun in the oven" favors online - they have a little blueberry muffin mix inside. The bedding and decor for the nursery is called "Jungle Luv", and my mom found a beautiful cake to match (which almost made up for locking my 94-year-old grandmother in the car - almost). And there's my super-pregger sis cutting the cake - people are split over whether or not Steph and I look alike, but sometimes I find it hard to believe we come from the same gene pool. For starters she has managed to gain weight only in her stomach and chest. If I ever get pregnant I'm pretty sure my ass will expand to the size of a Toyota Sequoia, and even if my boobs swell they'll be hard pressed to rival Steph's mammary-tastic expansion. Secondly, her feet pregnant and swollen are still smaller than my boats. But I digress...

Baby Spindler got lots of cool stuff, but I'd like to highlight her Auntie Amy line of cool clothes (note: I purchased these in January and struggled not to post them sooner).
Here we have her arrival outfit, her summer BBQ/pool party outfit (she's a Mass baby, and I'll be damned if it's July 4th and my niece hasn't got anything to wear but a white onesie and a receiving blanket), her "back-to-school" outfit, something to relax in as she gets older (those jeans are fleece-lined and I want her to learn the importance of layers early on), and then finally 2 play-time feetie jumpers for when she's got lots of strenuous baby stuff to do, like sit up and have quality tummy time. She can be comfortable without being sloppy.

And just in case her dad was still entertaining any half-baked ideas of making this child a Yankees fan (the brother-in-law is from the wrong part of CT), along with the 2 Red Sox books she received Li'l Spins got this tee-shirt from Lori:

I'd also like to give a special shout-out to James, who is just too friggin' cute and made me laugh and calmed me down when I was fantasizing about sticking my mother's head in oven:

James is pretty much betrothed to my unborn niece. As one of the girls pointed out the dads are going to have to figure out how many goats and sacks of grain will be exchanged in the deal.

Comped!

As previously mentioned, I finished my 2nd comp yesterday (!!!). For my non-sociologist readers, I thought I'd explain a little about comps, grad dept requirements, and sociology more generally. (Laying it all out is also a helpful reference for me when I get confused about what, exactly, it is that I'm doing with my life. This happens with potentially worrisome regularity.)

My program (which seems fairly typical of doctoral programs in sociology, although I can't speak to all social science programs or other disciplines more generally) offers 5 years of guaranteed funding - 3 yrs teaching assistantships and 2 fellowships. Teaching assistantships mean you T.A., and I am chuffed to report that I've just finished grading all my little kiddies final lab reports and have sent off my grades, which makes me officially done with those 3 years of obligations (!!). Fellowships are basically free money - I'm on fellowship next year which is why I'm able to relocate to SoCal. After next year I have to either a) secure outside funding (via a grant or sugar daddy) or b) come back to NY and TA. (Note to self: start looking for funding opportunities immediately). There are a number of requirements to fulfill pre-dissertation stage:

• 3 yrs coursework - check (18 classes - 72 credits, 2 incompletes, but that's not bad - RKG still had 1 incomplete when she got her full-time, tenure track job offers, and I am banging out one of those before I leave NYC)


• an "early research" paper - got one in the works; research is done, paper needs revisions before I (hopefully) submit it to a journal


• 2 comprehensive exams - check!!

The idea behind the comprehensive exam ("comp") is that you demonstrate proficiency in a sub field. What constitutes proficiency is unclear - feeling competent to teach an undergraduate course on the topic is a fairly good measure. You create a reading list with a faculty supervisor which you can tailor to your specific interests (sub fields have further sub fields), read the stuff, maybe write some memos and then answer 3 questions in 3 hrs. Technically you then "debrief" with your readers (the faculty supervisor and one other faculty member). I don't think anyone has ever failed a comp - basically your faculty supervisor shouldn't let you take it if you're not prepared - so hopefully I will hear if I've "passed" in the near future. Theoretically I am now proficient in Sex & Gender and Culture & Media. I'm teaching Sex & Gender in a few weeks so we'll see how well my comp prepared me.

So this is what I've been up to for the last 4 yrs. Now all I have to do is my dissertation!! Once I've defended my dissertation proposal (Fall '07 hopefully) I will be ABD (All But Dissertation), officially be a "doctoral candidate" (right now I'm just a regular 'ol 'doctoral student', and be able to start my research for the thing for which it is that I'm here. I don't think people understand how much work there is that comes before the dissertation (especially Paul - and other Brits - who just go to grad school and start their dissertation off the bat, which is why they can finish in 3 yrs). Other random stats: 70% of people go ABD - they get to that point and never finish. Also, I think the average soc PhD takes 7 yrs. That leaves me 3 years to achieve averageness.

Finally, "sociology", according to the OED, is "The science or study of the origin, history, and constitution of human society; social science. Also, the study of social organization and institutions and of collective behaviour and interaction, including the individual's relationship to the group." It's the inverse of psychology. I will not be a social worker. I will not analyze people. I will not go into clinical work or private practice (unless I ditch this career for my back-up plan of becoming a professional organizer). My colleagues and I have often mused about writing a book called "What My Grandparents Think I Do." I've always joked that mine think I'm a little slow for still being in school at age 26. The best one so far comes from SBK; her grandparents, who met at a Communist Party meeting back in the day, think she goes to Socialism school. To be fair, this is probably the closest approximation to what we do.

So I've comped! Janiac threw me a little surprise party last night and I celebrated with friends, grilled cheese and gazpacho shooters in Brooklyn. (She also bought those lovely tulips.) And now, as RKG reminded me, I have to work on my dis, cause there's nothing else left! Except, of course, everything that's not sociology.

Bodies in Motion

I just finished my 2nd comp exam (yay!), it's a rainy day, I have nothing specific to do, and so I can blog again (double-yay!)

Last night SBK had one of those evenings that makes you happy to be a grown up. We got dressed up (note: the application of Spanx power panties requires two hands at all times) and went to a beautiful neighborhood French restaurant called Chez Jacqueline. I will dine at Jacquie's crib any time - it was delicious. The wine, the soup, the salad, and most importantly, the strawberry tart. 2 words - pastry chef. The shell was perfectly flaky and firm without being hard, the custard was rich and flavorful without being heavy, and the strawberries were freshly sliced and sweetly arranged without any sugar or weird gelée.

I made my first trip to the Joyce Theatre, where we ran into 3 social scientists - weird, for a production by the Stephen Petronio Company. AMAZING. This is the type of art I like. I always feel a bit stupid when it comes to the arts because I'm not really an art museum person. Of course, it's different strokes (or steps) for different folks - I've found the type of art I like to consume. The music was by Rufus Wainwright and the Beastie Boys; the costumes were by Imitation of Christ's Tara Subkoff. And the dancers weren't some prima ballerinas, they were these gorgeous, toned, muscular beings that moved in the most powerful ways.

Watching the performance I started to think about masculinity (ever the sociologist) and how ironic it is that we label dancing as feminine and therefore male dancers as effeminate. Far from being emasculating, all I could think watching these guys was, If he can do that with his own body, I wonder what could he do with mine?

Playing catch up

Oh man, there has been so much going on. So much to blog about, so little time! There's my sister's belly, sex toys, Steve's workout of death, ice cream cone shoes, nasty See You Next Tuesday lady at the dr's office, the new apartment in Solana Beach, Rachel's nuptials, sandal season, end of semester grading, an exam Friday and my friend coming to visit for 2 weeks. Exhausting! I will try and keep up better, and hope to return with copious thoughts on each of the aforementioned topics, but right now I've got to get back to studying. I'll leave you with just a little something that's making my day brighter. These little puppies hit the streets of Manhattan for the first time today - they look fantastic with my Vinny-is-my-car-ready? red toenail polish:

Welcome to the Blog World, Rachel!

Was very excited to find an e-mail from Rachel waiting for me in my inbox this morning. Rachel is a friend from my days of Cambridge - she lived across the hall from me and was actually the very first person I met there! (Probably more memorable for me than for her, although I can only imagine what I looked like when I crawled out of my room in one of my waking intermissions to my jetlagged sleep, rising only to use the bathroom and eat another bag of nutri-grain bites I had luckily packed). She's also the first kiwi I ever met, and one of the coolest people I have ever had the pleasure to get to know. She embodies the word "lovely" and inspired me to start making my own humus. We share some very found memories.

So I was thrilled to bits she got in touch, and even more excited to find out she's just started blogging! I knew we weren't all being attention whores and that this would actually be a great way to keep in touch when good friends and loved ones are scattered over the globe. I'm still hoping to get to New Zealand in the not-so-distant future (5 year plan?), but in the meantime I'll have to be content with pictures of wonky carrots and stories of court summons.

P.S. I just had a small moment of heart failure when I realized I accidentally posted to the NYLON blog (which also appears on my dashboard) instead of my own baby. NYLON is a research collective between students at LSE and NYU, it's great, blah blah blah, but holly shit I was sitting here going, "No. No! Nonononono!!! Delete! How do I DELETE!" Man, that was a close one. It was like a bad "reply-all" mistake but with a much larger audience. A warning to all - careful blogging!

Yoga Toes

I always take a quick glance at the last few pages of magazines where they advertise all sorts of crap - from psychics and thumb rings to breast enhancement creams and "pen pals" (depending on what magazine your reading). In several women's magazines I've seen ads for Yoga toes. Apparently they're supposed to help alleviate foot pain by stretching and realigning your toes. I think they actually look pretty comfy and would feel nice after a long day on your feet (especially paired with a bubble bath and a glass of pinot gris).

Unfortunately, those aren't the yoga toes I'm thinking of. I'm thinking of actual feet-digits, the little piggies you press into the mat in downward-dog. To compliment our new fitness regimes (I've done 2 sessions with a personal trainer and she's in P.T.) RKG and I decided to check out Yoga to the People. Peter recommended it, and he's not exactly low maintenance so we figured we'd give it a shot. The studio is really cool, conveniently located, and clearly popular - the room was packed. I haven't done yoga in at least 2 years, but I enjoyed it then and figured I'd remember the basics. What I forgot was how hard yoga is! Forget the body postures (it was like a really intense game of twister), clearing one's head is not easy when you're less than 4" from the person next to you and every time you try to "flow" and take in a deep breath for cobra you find your face planted in the feet of the amazon woman in front of you.

The good news is I figure if I can empty my mind in that setting I'll be able to do it anywhere. We're going to aim to go once a week. I just wonder how long it will take for me to a) have the postures down enough that I can focus on my breathing more than maintaining my balance, and b) not think about what I'm making for dinner while in Warrior 2. It's especially hard when the aroma of Chinese food from one of the nearby restaurants wafts in.

It's a love/hate thing

I have sort of a love/hate relationship with Fresh Direct. At first it was total devotion - they could do no wrong as far as I'm concerned. Then they started getting a little sloppy - produce wasn't fantastic, and egg would be broken, they came late or early (and when I've opted for the 8:00-10:00 am time slot I do not want my doorbell ringing at 7:30!). I wonder if maybe they're getting a little big for their britches and unable to cope with increasing demand, not unlike JetBlue's experience a few months back - they were too popular for their own good. Plus RKG gets coupons every week for a free item - she forwards them to me so I benefit, but FD doesn't know that. Why does she get the freebies? Is it because my zip code offers better delivery time slots? That's not really a fair trade.

I had the really bad experience with the raw chicken, but I felt a little guilty afterwards because within two weeks my microwave had shit the bad, and I wonder if the failure of the meat to cook through wasn't one of the first signs of the appliance's demise. My guilt went away, however, when we ordered a massive FD delivery for the accepted-students pre-conference party we had at my place, which included 3 cases of beer (a great feature of this service - you can order beer and wine, plus all your snacks and goodies, and it gets delivered. I can't emphasize how great that is when you don't have a car and have to carry all that stuff). For starters, one case was missing entirely - Sam Adams was on the packing slip, Sam Adams was on the bill, but Sam Adams was not in my apartment. Secondly, I noticed when started packing the fridge that one of the bottles of Amstel had broke. The beer had soaked the entire bottom of the case and all 4-6 packs. I new this meant the cardboard would be week and tried to be extra careful, but sure enough when I was rearranging the dairy to make room for the alcohol the bottom of a 6 pack opened up and 4 more bottles smashed. Now it was 9 am, I was done 5 beers, my kitchen floor was covered in glass and booze, and my apartment smelled like a brewery - not exactly how I like to start my day. The customer service lady was an absolute peach, so that mitigated my unhappiness.

Then today I felt like the god of commerce were smiling in my favor. In my order, along with all the things I had actually ordered, were some extra goodies: a package of almond biscotti, Tide for sensitive skin, and a 6 pack of orange soda. Now none of those are awesome, but it's always kind of fun to get things you didn't pay for (without having to steal them). Now of course this probably means that someone's order will be short those 3 products, but they can call and get a credit.

Maybe next time I'll get something even better - like sausages or toothpaste...

I heart Crate & Barrel

Somehow I ended up at Crate&Barrel on my way to the library last night. I'm not sure exactly how that happened, but I really do love this store. Truly, madly, deeply. My aspirations in life include having enough money to actually buy furniture from there. Not sure my current career path as an academic is going to take me there - might have to rethink that one.

Anywho, I got some fun little tidbits:

Laptop blotter, on sale for $9.95. This is going in my straight-to-San Diego pile.
Magnetic measuring spoons - I've wanted these little bad boys since I saw them in a recent issue of RealSimple. I like their design features, namely that they lie flat on the counter, they have a narrower, oval shaped end for getting into small jars, and they stack together with magnetic attraction. This will help keep my utensil draw nice and tidy; I gave up on putting my other measuring spoons back on the ring a long time ago.
Bamboo picks - I got the ones on the left with the twisty-tie tops. They'll be perfect for the melon-olive-mint-feta skewers I'm making for my cocktail (emphasis on the first syllable) party Saturday. I don't like olives myself, but I've been told these hors d'oeuvres are the perfect blend of sweet and salty.

And if you've never checked out cb2, I highly recommend it. CB2 is to Crate&Barrel what Old Navy is to the Gap. (take that, SAT verbal section makers!)

Some how I never made it to the library...

Happy Easter!

Christ has risen - whoop whoop! Props to all my Christian friends on this highest of holy days, and a belated Happy Passover to those of the Jewish persuasion. I tried some dark chocolate covered matzo the other day - not as good as a hollow milk chocolate bunny filled with milk, but tasty in its own way.

Even though it's snowing in NY today, Easter always reminds me of white patent leather shoes, pastel dresses and tulips. I think Steph and I may have even had bonnets and gloves when we were little, but I don't know if I'm just romanticizing the less guilt-ridden aspects of our Catholic upbringing. Easter also conjures up images of egg hunts for many, but not the LeClair sisters. For those of you unfamiliar with our unique traditions (Steph, where did this one come from?), allow me:

The Jelly Bean hunt: Easter morning Stephanie and I would ready ourselves at the top of the staircase, still in our pajamas and ready for a sugar fix. Our parents would dispense the equipment - empty Cool Whip containers (a.k.a. redneck salad bowls - we weren't rednecks, I guess my parents were just ahead of the times on recycling) - and when given the signal we would bound down the stairs with the force (and grace) of startled cattle. In preparation, our parents would have placed jelly beans all over the first floor (back hall excluded for toxic chemicals). On the ledges of the hallway, legs of the coffee table, in the microwave and on the toaster oven, behind the couch and under the window shades, on the lighting fixtures and beside the Hummels - pretty much every surface was fair game. Plonk, plonk, plonk went the jellybeans as they fell into our plastic receptacles. Once we were pretty sure we'd got them "all" we'd regroup and count our booty. Stephanie always, always won. In the history of LeClair Easters I don't think I ever won a single jelly bean hunt, and I'm sure I cried over the inherent disadvantage of being the younger sibling (I clearly understood the basic principles of social stratification at a very young age).

The one glitch in the jellybean hunt was that we never really found "all" the jellybeans. Over the course of the next few days, weeks, even months, someone would occasionally call out, "guess what I found?" having stumbled upon an overlooked bean. There was even the occasional Christmas discovery of a petrified bean, a sucrose relic of Easter (which one?) past. On the rare occasion that someone ever attempts a deep clean of the ground floor of 151 Prospect St., I would bet my peeps that they will find at least one little survivor from the hunts of yore.

Simple as they may be, I think jelly beans are the underdog of Easter candy. And I bet they're at least 50% off at Duane Reade. Happy hunting!

Spring Goals

I like the idea of applying the metaphor of spring cleaning to my life every few months - taking time to reevaluate, figuring out what's working and what's got to go, tidying up. I'm doing pretty well with my early January goals. So far I have read (non-sociology wise, that list isn't very exciting):

• Dry by Augusten Burroughs


• Barrel Fever by David Sedaris


• Prozac Nation by Elizabeth Wurtzel


• Imperial Life in the Emerald City by Rajiv Chandrasekaran

I've seen the following movies in the theater:

• Children of Men


• Venus


• The Last King of Scotland


• Zodiac

I also saw Dream Girls and Night at the Museum on a plane and numerous others at home on the couch by myself (but those don't really count since the point of the movie a month in the theater goal is not to be on said couch).

I'm falling behind on the letter writing, but 2 out 3 ain't bad. I haven't bought any mascara. And on the topic of beauty products, I've thought of a new goal: This summer I will not attempt any self-tanning. Every year I do it, every year I fail. There's just entirely too much effort involved - you've got to exfoliate, but not moisturize, or moisturize your elbows and knees so they don't get all orange. You've got to let it dry which involves hanging out naked for a bit, and this can really inconvenience your roommates. Your sheets get all nasty and you always, always miss a spot. I have at least 5 bottles of creams, sprays and foams that are more than 1/2 full.

Last year before a wedding I decided to go for the professional spray tan. I thought I was just going to be in a booth, but I ended up getting the airbrush application. To say the experience was "interesting" would be an understatement. For starters, I wasn't really "prepared" to be naked in front of anyone, and unlike all those slim, toned, hairless wonders on the reality shows who are ready to jump into a hot tub at a moment's notice, I need at least a 48 hr warning when a stranger is going to see me sans vetements. At first I wasn't sure whether or not my "artist" was gay. There were some context clues - the bandanna with the bejeweled skull and crossbones on it, the all-too-precisely ripped jeans, the cut off "Free Li'l Kim" tee shirt - but I didn't want to be presumptuous. Then I got a closer look at the necklace he was wearing - the larger metal charm was, indeed, a cockandballs. That was the clincher. So 40 minutes and numerous, shameful poses later I was covered with bronzer. I took the bus home and frankly cannot believe that someone didn't accuse me of being a racist because I looked like I was in black-face. My roommate almost choked on her own saliva when I walked in the door. I had mixed feelings of relief and terror when I finally showered the next morning and the water running down the drain looked like it had been used to wash a bunch of school children's paintbrushes after an exercise with watercolors. I was still looking a little "ethnic" at the rehearsal dinner, but was nice and bronzed for the ceremony. Still, never again. That experience falls squarely in the "just not worth the effort" category.

Last week I was reading Glamour and they had the obligatory article on self-tanners and I thought, "Ooh, I should try that one." No! I won't! I'm putting an end to this madness and admitting defeat. Maybe Victorian pallor will come back in style.

East Coast Baby, West Coast Baby

While I'm going to make every effort to steer clear of botox and breast implants, there are some aspects of life in San Diego I am prepared to embrace fully. Number one on that list - beach culture. And I'm going to do it in style.

Check out this puppy:

It's got a face rest like a massage table - how cool is that?!? I still need to work on making peace with seaweed and calming down about sand in the house, but I really believe that once I own this chair anything will be possible.

Today is April 5th, correct?

So why is it snowing?!? I'm supposed to be in flip-flops, not ear muffs! I'll just add this to my arsenal of "things to look forward to living the SoCal life."

Never mind the weather, there are more important things to discuss. Paula Abdul, for example. As promised, I watched the results show, and I've giving up hoping Sanjaya will be kicked off. I think RKG might be onto something with her theory that Howard Stern's morning promos for votefortheworst.com is a key factor. Also, Janiac made a fair point that if Haley just keeps wearing less fabric on bottom than on top she's going to stick around (but she's got to stop feigning annoyance when Simon comments on her legs). LaKisha is my pick, although I don't understand why she was dressed like a bank teller last night. Melissa Doolittle is clearly the most talented, but she came into the game with a stylist and a vocal coach. I just don't feel like America's taking part in the discovery of some hidden gem. It'd be like putting a 5th grade teacher on Are you smarter than a fifth grader? Plus Melissa's head is a little too much like Guy Smiley's for my liking. And where's her neck? She looks like my Barbies whose heads I accidentally ripped off trying to brush their hair and then tried to smoosh back on.

But back to Paula. I saw the clips from Tuesday night's show. I saw the scarf, but what can I say? Really, Scott, what do you want me to say about her neckerchief? Do you want me to say that she looks like she's a guest judge on Grease: You're the One that I Want and she's getting just a little too into it? Do you want me to suggest that maybe she's spending a big chunk of her Idol paycheck on outpatient therapy and so has been waitressing at a 50s style drive up, girls on roller skates, sock hop diner to pick up some extra cash? It was terrible, it really was, and I bet Simon had to work very hard to restrain himself from grabbing either end of the scarf and pulling until Paula's head popped off. And Steph, I'm not so sure the extension is Jessica Simpson 4 Target, I think it may have just come from one of those mall kiosks where you can buy faux-hair in a myriad of forms - clips, scrunchies, banana combs. Perhaps she picked it up on her way to her interview for the waitressing gig to go with her poodle skirt. What I would really like to say, however, is that I'm proud. I'm just so proud of Paula, proud because for the second week in a row I think she really is sober, and that's something we should all be proud of her for. Maybe the scarf is there to hide a patch that's releasing a slow, regulated dose of oxycontin into her stream so she doesn't go into the DTs on live, national television. Hey, whatever works.

The thermometer might be returning to freezing, but this cold bitchy heart of mine is melting, just a little, for Pabdul. Besides, my favorite fashion critics already gave her a much better fugging than I could ever hope to.

Blog request

I've never gotten one of these before! Apparently my brother-in-law would like me to address Paula's scarf, while my sister "would like to see something in regards to that nasty ass Jessica Simpson for Target looking hair extension that she's sporting as a ponytail this week." (personal communication with sister, 4/4/07)

Sadly, I didn't see AI last night. I don't even know if Paula's still on the wagon. Damn you, teaching responsibilities! Oh, how I wish I could deliver. I feel as if I've failed both as an in-law and as a blogger. I pledge to my readers to have my caboose parked on the couch for the results show tonight and report back with something catty and cynical tomorrow. We all know we can count on Paula for an endless supply of material.

Couldn't have said it better myself

... And Patronize Our Vendors

A tourist mom with three teens in tow halts in the middle of the block, causing two suits and several other people to crash into them.

Suit #1: For the love of God, move, you idiots! There are people walking behind you!
Tourist mom: You don't have to be so rude!
Suit #2: He's rude? You clearly see this is a busy sidewalk, and yet you stop dead in the middle and block all traffic!
Tourist mom: He didn't have to say it so rude -- we are not from around here!
Suit #1: And does that somehow excuse your being idiots and stopping in the middle of a busy street?
Tourist mom: At least we are not so rude in Tennessee!
Suit #2: That explains the idiocy, but it still isn't an excuse.
Tourist mom: That was unnecessary!
Suit #1: Perhaps, but it's true.
Suit #2: Here, maybe this is more polite: Welcome to New York. Slow walking idiots prone to stopping for no reason stay to the fucking right of busy sidewalks, and don't get in the way of the non-mentally impaired locals. Now fuck off.

--50th & 6th

via Overheard in New York, Apr 3, 2007

Spring Collections

With the weather warming my thoughts go immediately to one thing - shopping! While I think my fall line is the most flattering to my body type, I absolutely love spring clothing. Jeans, tee shirt and flip-flops are my favorite ensemble, which, conveniently, is appropriate attire year round in SoCal. Also, since I'm teaching this summer I have a good excuse to purchase some new work clothes.

There are certainly worse things than wanting to buy clothes and not finding anything you like, but it's a major shopping let-down. Has anyone checked out the spring collections at the shops lately? Here's my run-down of these major let-downs:

• The Gap - 2 words: Snooze Fest. My god could the clothes in there get any more boring? I mean, it's the Gap, I'm not expecting anything crazy. Stick to the palette - khaki, white, navy, black, many a grey or a cream - but do something with the cut, style, fabric - something! Their spring line could turn an ADHD suffering 5-year-old on a pixie stick and grape crush binge into a narcoleptic.


• Esprit - So nautical you need dramamine and a magnetic bracelet to cruise the shop floor. I do love me some navy and white stripes, and boat neck collars really flatter my clavicle, but we're just a few brass anchor buttons away from Cache - dangerous waters indeed. Add to that the fact that Janiac has barred me from purchasing any more graphic tees and there's not a whole lot left for me to choose from.


• Express - I've been loyal to EXP for a long, long time - since the days of the bejeweled-ankle jean and the over sized floral print sweatshirt; hell, Lisa and I gave a nod to the shop in our senior yearbook blurbs! - but you've got to meet me half way. I appreciate lengths, but Short does not equal Skinny! What the hell is the point of having lengths if you change the dimensions of the waist/hips? Last week I tried on a pair of Sz 8 Regular length editors and couldn't get them over my thighs. The same style, same size cropped length fit just fine - did they add the extra material to the seat of the pants? I'm pleased as punch royal blue is in this season - it's such a lush, vibrant color and it happens to suit my complexion quite well - but the arsenal of jewel-toned button down shirts are only appropriate for work if you're an accountant for a brothel. And do not get my started on the terry-onesies.


• H&M - There should be a sign on the door warning pregnant women, epileptics and people with heart conditions to seek medical advice before entering. Seriously, who hired a paranoid schizophrenic to head the design team? I am a huge fan of the 60's mod look (even though I wouldn't be caught dead in any garment that carries the mini- prefix), but there is way too much orange, and juxtaposed with kelly green it gives me a migraine. It's what I imagine a clothing store designed by my mother would look like. And while I appreciate that they're being socially responsible, the larger-than life billboard of Madona on the south side of Houston St. between Broadway and Lafayette freaks me out a little - she's slowly morphing into Marcia Cross.


• American Eagle - I keep thinking I'm getting too old to shop here, but so far this is where I've been most successful. I got an adorable one-piece bathing suit, a nice casual and versatile blue skirt, and a black bra that fits (little size fluctuation going on)! Some of the clothes are just ridiculous - their shorts, even if I did wear shorts and even if I could fit my booty into them, both big if's, could not contain my 'lady-bits' (the 'ol sneeze and my labia might fall out worry) - but year after year they continue to be the only retailer that sells decent cargo-capris, and when you don't wear shorts, they're a mainstay of the summer wardrobe.

I haven't been to Old Navy in a while, and Summer lines are flushing out the Spring ones, so maybe there's still hope. Keep your fingers crossed for me, I really don't want to teach in clothes that look like they came out of the closet of a hypothetical love child between Popeye and Crystal Gayle from her Solid Gold days.

DIY, muthafuka

While I was only meaning to unleash my inner lesbian by volunteering to help renovate Peter's apartment, my inner gansta seems to have snuck out as well. Maybe it was the do-rag I was sporting yesterday. Or the "chicks dig my sweet ride" tee-shirt. (And, yes, chicks do indeed dig my sweet ride.) For some reason I feel compelled to yell "peace out, muthafukahhhhhhhhhs," when exiting a room full of people. Maybe it's nothing at all to go with my inner gangsta, and everything to do with being a suburban white girl. Apparently it's not an uncommon ailment.

Potty mouth aside, I realized that I quite like home remodeling. This will come in handy when I get to SD because the catch to Paul finding a reasonably priced 2 bedroom in my favorite area is that the second of those bedrooms has a "cloud-scape" painted on the ceiling. I'm not sure we can do anything about the wood panelling in the living room (Paul vetoed my suggestion that we take up macrame), but the white-washing of that ceiling will be Paul and me's first household couple project since assembling his flat-pack IKEA table.

Yesterday was also my first taste of caffeine and alcohol since the demon-virus. I was up until 1am - I usually tuck in around 10:30 - and woke up at 7am ready to take on the world. I was the first back at Peter's because I wanted to remove the painting tape from the bathroom walls. I was also thinking I needed to get there before his other friends because they put too much paint on the brush, roll and edger. I'm realizing that my control-freak disposition might make me unpleasant company, so I'm trying to chill out, but I don't think the tall non-fat no-whip caramel macchiato I had this morning is helping. Too much caffeine, muthafukahhhhhs.....