Fashion Fright

I don’t know how I’ve stayed silent on this issue for so long – I think I’ve blocked it out. The time has come, however, to address a serious issue – the monokini. I recall having one of these in my pre-teen years, but I was a) pre-teen, aka no body yet and b) the cut outs were much, much smaller – like tennis ball size.

I have a problem with bathing suits no matter what. Racing suits have always plagued me – they squish the beejesus out of my already little bosoms, accentuate the “fullness” of my stomach, hips and bum, and leave awful tan lines. My main problem areas are thutt (where the thighs meet the butt) and my love handles. My only hope for the thutt would be a granny skirt, but at that is really not an option. At 27 there is no excuse for a swimsuit tutu. I do have a shred of dignity left, and I am clinging to it for dear life.

So what are my options? Wetsuit? Slightly drastic, and I worry I’d be mistaken for a seal and hunted for my pelt. One pieces seem like the logical alternative because at least they cover my stomach and hips, but I have a short torso and one pieces can flatten out the little ones, which are some of my few assets. When my belly button is below a 2-knuckle depth on my index finger I use this as a green light for the bikini. Triangle tops make my mammaries look sad and saggy, so I generally opt for a wide-strap halter top and a medium rise bottom with full back coverage, emphasis on the full. Like this (although the model's mons pubis looks freakishly long - maybe it's the print). My clavicle is one of the few spots on my body not carrying a little extra weight, along with my ears and my gums, and I think this style accentuates it.

The monokini is the antithesis to my ideal bikini. This piece of clothing, if you want to call it that, falls squarely into the category of “Things Only Gweneth Paltrow/Sienna Miller/Giselle Bunchen Should Wear And Even Then I’m Still On The Fence,” along with cropped cigarette pants, high wasted pencil skirts, and shoes that tie up the leg. What fashion industry genius sat in a room and dreamed up this water weary monstrosity? There is nothing I fear greater than the image of me in one of these – already short torso made stumpier by the center strap AND side cutouts to allow my fat to spill out like the foam on an overflowing draft Guiness. Bleck. Dear god I want to give up carbs for 5-7 days just thinking about it. Pass the Alli.

A final, if somewhat tangential, note on swimwear. WTF with metal bits? Don’t get me wrong, I love shiny like a magpie, but am I the only one that thinks this isn’t the best accoutrement to put on an item meant to be worn in the sun? Wouldn’t this burn into your flesh?

Why does this remind me of a children's game timer?

My fear is that this skanktastic swimwear is going to end up on sale racks – and with good reason! – and be scooped up by the fashion un-savvy. I beg you all to spread the anti-monokini message.

Life's little luxuries

Three years ago when I wandered into BCBG, was seduced by the personal shopper and blew my whole tax rebate (before I knew it was coming - a little retrospective justification never hurt anyone) I noticed something - expensive clothes are made better. The dresses fit better, they hung better, they had little snap tabs on the to hold your bra straps in place. The luxury was in the details.

On my recent trip back east I flew first class (when you're in a long distance relationship you rack up a lit of frequent flyer miles). Now American Airlines is the Payless of the skies (although, in defense of Payless their style really has been improving) - they don't even have individual televisions in the seats! - but you just get treated better. Go right to the check-in desk? Sure! Separate line with no wait at security? Yee haw! Board first? Don't mind if I do, and might I add these warmed nuts are delicious. My luggage was even the first on the carousel! I thought it was a coincidence until it happened in both JFK and SAN.

As I took the boss's car for service this morning I was dazzled by all the buttons - the adjustments you can make on the driver's seat are seemingly endless. I particularly enjoyed the lumbar support. Now I can't say I have much to go by in the way of comparison, but the Audi dealership seemed like the Four Seasons of car dealerships - they even had a little gift shop and cafe! The best perk for me? Two words - loaner car. If only I had somewhere to go on a road trip! The garden center at Home Depot didn't really cut it.

Cutest Niece EVER

Steph has already acknowledged that later on they might have some regrets about encouraging Kayley to stick her tongue out for her 'baby's first trick.'

But right now it's wicked cute.

Eating my way through the North East

I like to do gastronomic traveling. The food on the plane was, shockingly, less than exciting, but NYC was worth the trip. Here are some of the highlights:

• burgers & beers at Fanelli's
• mac & cheese at Nolita House
• champagne at Palio
• pizza at Lombardi's
• all sorts of deliciousness at 'inoteca

Back in MA, it's been a return to basics with my dad's steak tips, Richardson's ice cream, and a meatball sub. Tomorrow night I'll be in the bleacher seats at Fenway Park, so a Fenway Frank and a few $9 Bud Lights might be in order. And then I'll head back to CA before my BMI exceeds legal state limits!

Is there a doctor in the house?

CONGRATULATIONS to Ms. Rebecca Kate Glauber, PhD (!!) who successfully defended her dissertation this afternoon. Dr. Glauber will be joining the faculty at the University of New Hampshire this fall, where she will educate inquisitive young minds about the intersection of race, marital status and gender inequality in the labor market and, hopefully, teach her colleagues a thing or to about how academic fashion is done in the new millennium. Yay Bec!

(Left to right: Jane, moi, Dr. Bec, Owen, Sarah)

Coastal Comparison

New York

HIGH: 76°
LOW: 68°
HUMIDITY: 80%
RAIN: 90%
Cloudy. Periods of rain, mostly in the morning. Downpours possible. Isolated flooding possible. Flood watch in effect.

Solana Beach

HIGH: 77°
LOW: 65°
HUMIDITY: 0%
RAIN: 10%
A few clouds this morning, but generally sunny for the afternoon. Same forecast for the next 10 days.

Now I remember why I moved.

Professional Student

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Grilling 101

Tip #1: When it says on the package to soak wooden skewers in water for at least 30 minutes prior to grilling, this is less of a suggestion and more of a safety must.

Tip #2: When using matches because the starter is out, don't turn the gas all the way up, close the lid, walk away for a minute, and then through a lit match on the grill - or, if you do, stand back a good 5 feet.

Tip #3: Singed arm hairs can be trimmed using men's beard clippers. Afterwards, apply a nicely scented moisturizer and patiently wait for regrowth.

The P.A. Experience

You know those assholes in their expensive cars zooming down the freeway, weaving in and out of lanes without signaling and scaring you within an inch of your life? I was in the death seat of one this morning as my employer rushed to make his early morning international flight.

I suggested we take advantage of the commuter lane. "I think that's illegal at this point," he said, referring to the fact that we would have to cross the double solid line. I was too busy muttering every prayer I could remember to point out that running several red lights and driving on the wrong side of the road weren't behaviors condoned by California Highway Patrol.

While he's away I'm getting the car serviced, ordering dance tickets, and delivering freshly picked tomatoes to Suzie at the bank (as you do). It sounds so glamorous in print - trust me, the reality isn't quite the same. Maybe it's the dirty laundry in the back seat of the car or the rotting bananas and unidentifiable smushed "health food" bars - I think it's a combination.

I barely slept last night and my shoulders are wrecked from the week on the futon so I think a massage is in order (courtesy of Mia's bday gift - thanks babe!!).

Home Alone

We're freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

The house guests departed this morning - yippee! We spent the last day with a trip to the beach - where I almost swam into a sea lion! I wasn't wearing my contacts and all of a sudden Paul was calling to me to swim over. Apparently our friend Mark saw it as it was about to swim between Paul and me. I was out further than it, and Paul, rightly so, thought I might get a little freaked out if it popped up beside me - and the dad's wife was stung by a jellyfish - I'm sorry, I know I'm evil, but I can't help thinking there's some type of karma involved there, of course then we had to listen to her .... - some car washing and impromptu gardening (the fun never ends around here!), steaks and Notes on a Scandal. There was a 10 min period where I thought she was going to talk through the entire movie, and I was contemplating all my passive and not so passive aggressive options for indicating that movie watching = quiet time; luckily, we watched in relative silence.

Now we just have to wash all the kitchen, bedroom and bath linens we own and move back into our own bedroom - woo hoo!

An open letter to my houseguests

Dear boyfriend's dad's wife*,

*Notice that we don't use the term "stepmom." Your husband's kids would rather slam their heads against a brick wall coated in maple syrup near a bunch of hungry bees than acknowledge you as a legitimate part of your life.

My first introduction to you was shortly before you married the boyfriend's dad, when he and his sister were in the throws of investigating whether or not their father was indeed about to legally engage in bigamy. It's surprising you didn't have a hand in this, actually - their mum had filed twice and I can imagine you were eager to have the dad all to yourself. Then I met you at your wedding and after wondering why on earth you'd wear a lavender wedding gown at your second marriage you, apparently having read my mind, proceeded to corner me for what felt like an eternity and tell me the story of how at your age you couldn't wear a white dress, but as luck would have it it was the first order of a purple dress the store had taken. Imagine that. I still think a cream linen suit would have been more appropriate, but what do I know.

Not having had to deal with you for the past 4 years has been quite a gem. Sure, there have been snippets of your annoyance passed through the grapevine. Who could forget the time you donated all of the boyfriend's suits to GoodWill without letting him know, forcing him to purchase a new one from TopMan hours before his friend's wedding. Also, the sister did mention how you caused a big fuss at the dad's birthday meal, something about it not being all about you. Shocking, I must say.

Now that you are in my country I am looking back on the time we've spent apart as nothing less than magical. Woman, you do not shut up. You have been complaining since before you even got here - the boyfriend could hear you moaning in the background about how cold the weather was in SF while he was on the phone with his father. It wasn't what you'd expeted, you say. Have you heard of the internet? It's a wonderful place for looking up facts such as the temperature in various parts of the world. Having done this would have also prevented your brother calling from the east coast at the crack of dawn our time to tell you what the weather is going to be in Kiev in 2 weeks time when he gets married.

When you asked what you could do to help prepare dinner, I was thinking, "Holding your head under water for 5 minutes would be lovely?" but thought that might be inappropriate. See, that's what we call a filter - you obviously lack one. This was most clearly demonstrated when you proceeded to tell me the details of your first marriage in front of your husband's son. You reckon he was quite hurt and that's something you'll have to live with the rest of your life. While I've never had the pleasure of meeting husband #1, I can say with a fair degree of certainly that your conscience can rest easy and losing you in his life wasn't remotely as painful as you fancy it was.

May I be so bold as to ask a personal questions? Do you ever shut up long enough to breathe? I find it ironic that you complained that your mother had your father wrapped around her little finger when you clearly have your husband's nether-regions in a vice grip. He's a nice guy, but you'd barely no it since you never let him speak, and your presence doesn't exactly give one faith in his tastes. You dictate the man's ideas to him and then shout at him when he doesn't support what your saying. You want to know why he poured your drink so heavy last night? Maybe it was to knock you out!

I know tomorrow you're leaving for a few days, but knowing that you'll be back for the weekend is like knowing that you've got a few days of rest between a colonoscopy by an untrained sadist and a root canal performed by someone whose only experience has been on a Dr. Drill & Fill. I can safely say that by the time you leave for real I'll have had enough of you for years to come. Hell, since I've heard everything you could possibly have to tell me about your daughter, her job, your first husband, you parents' marriage, your mother's death, your father's death, your brother's bride-to-be, your courtship with the dad, your harp playing, your plans for retirement, your various bodily ailments, including but not limited to hip replacement, rheumatoid arthritis, and sciatica, your daughter's allergies, and many, many other things I couldn't have possibly taken in because the sheer number of words emitted from your mouth per minute is mind-boggling I cannot imagine, nor do I care to, what else you could possibly talk about. Our brief conversational forays into the world of politics over dinner have left me with a keen desire to remove my own skin 1 square centimeter at a time with a rusty grapefruit spoon rather than listen to another one of your moronic comments.

We talked briefly about Harry Potter. Have you ever met J.K. Rowling? I get the impression she may have formatted the Death Eaters in your likeness, because every moment with you saps one's will to live. I will use the next few days to store up happy thoughts and use them as a defense against the black hole of hope that emerges in your presence until that time when we part ways. One can only hope that it'll be another 4 years before I have to share a postal code with you again.

Your Truly,

The Hostess.

My personal DNA map

It says that I'm creative, but I keep having to plagiarize other's blog entries:

WTF, SYTYCD?

My love for So You Think You Can Dance is no secret, but after reviewing last night's results show thanks to DVR I've got to say I'm a little underwhelmed.

This season is great dancer wise. There's lots of eye candy. Cat Deeley herself is a tall drink of water, and her dresses, hair and makeup have been fabulous. She also seems to genuinely care about the contestants and always sticks up for them when they get knocked by the judges. Comparing SYTYCD with Simon Fuller's other talent show American Idol, this host makes Ryan Seacrest look like the douche bag that he really is.

Speaking of judges, these ones are quirky but they know what they're talking about. Even Mary, who's cuckoo for Coco Puffs, beats out Paula hands down any day because I've never heard her mumble on about dreams and unicorns and fluffy bursts of happiness...I also like that Mary's enthusiasm doesn't appear to be chemically induced.

Now the dancers. I am so glad they got rid of Jamie. Yeah, she's got "great lines", but let's be honest - she's a poor man's Allison. And she looks like a twunt. I've got to begrudgingly excuse the ribbon the the French braid - I don't think she had a say - but who intentionally wears her hair in a French twist? For real?

The other girls - Lauren, Lacey, Sabra, Sara -not only do I want to watch them dance, I want to hang out with them. Go shopping, grab a beer, and gossip about what a cow Jamie was. (Bio pictures aren't terribly flattering).

The guys, getting back to eye candy - oooh, those guys. What I wouldn't give to have one of them dripping sweat on top of me. If you don't watch this show, check out Pasha, Danny, Neil, and Kameron. They are so friggin' hot! Yum. (Dominic is a cutie, but he should have been the one to go, not Kameron.) (Man, those bio pics make them look like such tossers - they're not so Ryan Seacresty on the show).

The show has just been a little bit of a snooze fest the last two weeks. Having all 10 dancers do the same solo - whose mind numbing idea was that? And of course it had to be to a song that makes me want to bang my head against the unstable beach cliffs across the street. John Mayer may be "Waiting on the World to Change," but I'm waiting for them to stop playing that song. And for the show to step it up!

Happy Birthday, me!

I love my birthday because I hear from so many people I love and it reminds me how lucky I am to have them all in my life! And I get pressies...

Today I've heard from:

Michelle, Lisa, Mom, Paul D, Aunt Mary, Aunt Donna, Tara, Lenny, Amy B, Peter, Leslie, Sarah, Rebecca, Mia, Steph (and Kayley and Scott), Beth (and Larry), Stacey, Mikaila, Sarah and Jane

And I've received:

e-cards, texts, phone calls, Organics to Go kit, Zappos gift card, and this AMAZING jewelry from Ashley, Jane and Sarah:

Can't wait ti wear it to dinner!!

Alternating Tuesdays and Thursdays 7-9

I'm going to get my new driver's license tomorrow, so I was reading the California Driver Handbook 2007 when I fell upon this nugget of caution under the heading "Additional Driving Rules":

Do not shoot firearms on a highway or at traffic signs.

Is it okay to shoot firearms in commercial, residential or school zones so long as they're not located on a highway? Can you fire at pedestrians, cyclists, livestock or other vehicles? Are you legally permitted to shoot a firearm from a moving vehicle? It just concerns me because the section on window decals immediately following is much more detailed - what you can and can't have, how big it can be, on which windows, on what side of the front windshield, exceptions to these rules, etc. The firearm restrictions seem a little thin, no?

Domestic woes - Ode to a fallen fridge

Thursday night we grabbed some beers out of the fridge to go with dinner, and Paul asked if mine was cold. "Nope." There was a long moment of staring at each other with a mixture of fear, hope, and knowing - we were off to the fridge. The top shelf was less than cold, but rest of fridge's temperature decreased steadily as one moved towards the crisper. The freezer was keeping things frozen. By Friday night, however, we had accepted the truth - something was amiss with our dear side-by-side Kenmore. Did this stop us from doing some 3-figure grocery shopping? 'Course not, we were having guests over Saturday night and something as mundane as a faulty appliance wasn't going to stop us.

Saturday morning rolled around, however, and we decided we were going to have to grapple with reality.

"What are we going to do about the fridge?"
"Call Zac. What other options do we have?"

Zac is our landlord, who owns the house and lives upstairs, but he and his wife are traveling around the Pacific NE and Canada in their "mobile estate" for a few months, while we're stuck with the less-than-considerate sub letters.

"Damn it. This is why I rent."

Why indeed. What will happen the day I actually have to confront a household problem - a clogged drain, any verity of vermin larger than a nickel, a faulty appliance - and there's no one I can call to do it for me, I'm not quite sure, but I'm not particularly looking forward to said day.

Paul moved the fridge from the wall and began a detailed cleaning process that involved those rarely used vacuum attachments, half a roll of paper towels, and a replacement electric toothbrush head jammed onto the end of a chopstick. Sadly, his struggles were in vein, and I attempted to prioritize our perishables, deeming yogurt a higher priority than margarine as I crammed as much dairy as possible into the red and white Playmate cooler (which, eBay informs me, is now considered a vintage model) while Paul struck a deal with someone off Craigslist for a replacement to be delivered the next day between 9 and 11.

Around 2:30 a whatever-is-the-opposite-of-proverbial man with a van arrived and dropped a fridge in the living room. I sat there on one of our many pieces of IKEA furniture, glanced up from the pages of the new Harry Potter book, and thought aloud:

There's a fucking fridge in my living room.

The combination made me feel slightly pikey, as Paul might say, and I glanced up at the white brick fireplace, half expecting to see a collection of Dale Earnhardt commemorative plates, or a frosted Busch Light mirror. I hope I never have this thought again, or if I do, that I'm at least sitting in a room filled with furniture from West Elm or Pottery Barn. The high thread count cushions would help soften the blow to my ego.

The fancy new fridge is sitting in its nook - and by fancy, I mean functional. I only knew the first fridge for a few weeks, but I miss it already. The sliding bins on the freezer side made me happy, keeping the meat separate from the microwave meals, with the cooler packs tucked snugly on the door. The ice maker, even if it didn't work, provided a nice place for us to chill our white wine Saturday night when the fridge part was approaching its final freon-less hours. I usually mourn shoes, not things one purchases at Sears, but I think we should respect those parts of our homes that make modern, civilized life possible. That fridge chilled more than one Coke Zero, and the first time I enjoyed the refreshing burst of an ice cold Fresca Peach Citrus washing over my taste buds - well the fridge was a big part of that. So farewell, fallen soldier. You did the name Kenmore proud, even though I'm sure we've both contemplated how things could have been different if you were a Maytag.

Whether the scrapyard is in your future, only time will tell. In the meantime, stand proud in the garage. Who knows, new uses for you may just be waiting to be discovered. God willing, perhaps the upstairs neighbors 4 lbs Chihuahua will make you his new favorite play toy and meet an untimely end after becoming "accidentally" trapped in your doors. One chapter of your life has come to an end, but a new one is just beginning. The possibilities are endless.

Alternative methods of birth control

In a fit of procrastination from cleaning (we're having people over tomorrow night) I was blog hopping and stumbled upon this.

I officially want to have my cervix sewn shut, and I have a sudden urge to vacuum.

Craftastic

I think these projects came out a little better than the last.

Magazine flowers to compliment a vase I made Paul a few years ago:

And some pillow cases made from vegetable stamps - something I will definitely try again in the future when I can get my hands on some plain linens.

Think I'll give crafting a rest for a few days.

Get your read on

Once again, I'm single-white-femaling Beth. (Bec you're not here for me to SWF!!), but I thought I'd give it a twist and list both pleasure/academic reading

1. A book that changed your life: I Know This Much is True / When Corporations Rule the World
2. A book read more than once: The Phantom Tollbooth / Travesti
3. A book you’d want on a desert island: The Samuri's Garden / Heat Wave - to remind me I didn't have it all that bad
4. A book that made you laugh: Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim /The Scar of Race - but only because it used the phrase "higgedly piggedly"
5. A book that made you cry: They Cage the Animals at Night / Savage Inequalities
6. A book you wish you’d written: Possible Side Effects / Dilemmas of Desire
7. A book you wish had never been written: One Hundred Years of Solitude / America Calling
8. A book you’re currently reading: Memoires of a Geisha / Latinos, Inc.
9. A book you’ve been meaning to read: The Inheritance of Loss / everything related to my dissertation, but specifically Creating Mental Illness
10. Tag five people: Hmm, I don't think there are 5 people that read my blog on a regular basis, let alone who blog themselves. Just meditate on it privately.

She's Crafty

Well, at least she's trying to be. After finally doing something responsible and getting myself set up at UCSD yesterday, I rewarded myself with a trip to Michael's (add this to the list of stores Amy shouldn't be allowed to go into by herself). I'm all stocked up and ready to craft:

Last night I attempted my first project, a "rock-n-roll" bracelet made from paper, glass beads and elastic:

I don't love it, but it's not too bad for a first attempt. I definitely have a few ideas about how I could improve the next time around.

And in case I needed some inspiration, I got the perfect surprise pick-me-up in the mail yesterday:

The garland of paper flowers was a gift from Bec a while back. I had them in my office at NYU and forgot that I had packed them up with some books that arrived yesterday. They are so pretty - the colors match perfectly with our new table linens and my sale carnations, and they remind me of Bec. I love them.

Now I just have to make sure Paul doesn't huff the spray adhesive.

Suburban Bliss

I always thought I would be bored if I didn't work - I think I might have been wrong. I'm taking a little hiatus from sociology and just enjoying my new adventures in CA. Today I've accomplished quite a lot. I had an interview for another personal assistant position in one of the most gorgeous houses I've ever set foot in. It was like being in the pages of Better Homes & Gardens. Then I did some food shopping. Of course I didn't want to go hungry, so I tried one of these bad boys from Carl's Jr.:

Not gonna lie, it was delicious. I'm currently experiencing some moderate abdominal discomfort, but I'm sure it'll pass. I'm also going to have to do an awful lot of yoga to burn off all 660 calories (yup - I looked), but I figure if I skip dinner I should be okay.

I'm tiring of the driving pretty quickly (I now stalk gas prices the way I've stalked shoes online in the past), but there is something very satisfying about grocery shopping with a full-size cart (we have these weeny little ones in NYC to fit down the narrow aisles). I'm applying my bargainacious skills to food shopping, clipping coupons and watching sale tags. Today I saved $25.17 with my Von's card. 6 ears of white corn for $0.96! 3 x 12-packs of soda cans for $10! That's $0.30 a can! Do we need 36 cans of soda in the house? Probably not, but we are having people over next weekend and only 1/3 of the cans made it to the fridge, the rest are in the pantry snuggled next to the Triscuits and Wheat Thins I got last week at 2/$7. And besides, it's such a DEAL!

I rounded out my afternoon with a stop at the Solana Beach library. Getting a library card last week was kind of fun - I haven't had one that wasn't university affiliated since I was about 7. Books I checked out:

• How to be a Budget Fashionista
• knitgrrl2
• the knit stitch
• AlternaCrafts
• Beginners' Guide to Herb Gardening
• Papercraft
  

Domestic phase, much?

Okay, so maybe the problem isn't that I'd get bored after awhile, but that I'd become boring. I assure you, though, it delights be just as much to save $0.99 on a bunch of carnations as it does to find BCBG kitten heels for $30 at Marshalls. There's room in my hearts for steals and deals of all shapes and sizes.

Right then, time for Oprah. I know I need to start squeezing a little sociology into my life, but right now I'm enjoying my vacation from real work.

It's here!

I first saw this gorgeous travel wallet on Beth's blog, and I knew I had to have one. Beth kindly put me in contact with Sara, who took time out of her busy dissertating schedule to make one for me and ship it from Switzerland! I, of course, was more than happy to support the hobby and independent craft work of a fellow PhD student.

Ooh, I can't wait to travel somewhere!

About me

I had to write a little blurb about myself today for a "favorite things" swap, and I just re-read it. I know myself better than I thought, and I figured out what I want to do with my life.

I'm getting my PhD in sociology, recently move to San Diego, CA, to live with my ex pat English boyfriend after 3 1/2 yrs long distance. Miss NYC loads but am loving the beach weather. Dream of a second career as a professional organizer. Want to get married (or create a wedding registry more precisely) because it's one of the only socially acceptable ways to procure a Kitchen Aid stand mixer, but have promised myself one on my 30th b-day if not yet married. Life goals - run a feminist-orientated non-profit org and own a pair of Manolo Blahniks and/or Christian Louboutins. Love cooking, shopping, Target, book stores and craft fairs.

Yup, that about sums it up.

Podtastic

Sometimes I get the feeling I'm not using my iPod to its fullest potential. Every few months I get inspired to brush up on my French, so I found these:

• Learn French by Podcast - who better to practice your French with than an Irish man
• The French Pod Class
• One Thing in a French Day (might unsubscribe because the woman's voice annoys me)

Theoretically I could brush up on my French while I lie on the beach, but today I dozed off during a lesson on the correct usage of amener, emener, porter and emporter. I really hope I don't have to tell someone en francais what and whom I'm bringing to a picnic.

On a recent iTunes binge, I found a bunch of new free podcasts that I really like:

• ExerciseRadio.com
• fitPod.com - I haven't actually worked out to either of these, but I listened to them seaside on the beach chaise and felt like I was back poolside at the Ritz with the happy hour DJ spinning an acid jazz lounge mix. Very shamelessly Eurotrash. (Miami is hot as f%&$ in August but you can get mad hotel discounts.)
• Insta Spanish Lessons
• Relaxation Music
• YOGAmazing
• Yoga Today

This last one is my new fav. Free 50 minute yoga video. I like the instructors a lot, it keeps me from spending $14 a session with a bunch of fake-boobed beach cougars (sorry, ladies of North County San Diego - no smoke without a fire and all that) and I can fall out of tree pose in the privacy of my own home. The one draw back is that it's hard to ground my intentions, clear my mind and connect with my prana when the lead-footed bitch upstairs won't stop clod-hopping around.

Home Improvement

2 layers of primer and 2 coats of ceiling white, and we went from this:

To this:

Much better. Now we just need to get rid of the wretched florescent lighting.

Shopping

I got lost on my way to the grocery store today and ended up at Marshalls - whoops! While I have no business shopping right now, I thought I'd check out the dresses. I haven't been feeling fantastic lately, the upshot of which is that it's kept me from shopping, but I've lost 4 lbs of my
NY weight (no one ever told me about the grad school 15) and wanted to feel like I could still be attractive in something other than pj's.

I LOVE Marshalls, and this one had good stuff - Calvin Klein, BCBG Max Azria, Nine West, Kenneth Cole. The translucent PVC Prada trench and the tan Miu Miu jumpsuit weren't my cup of tea, but at $80 and $30 respectively they were a steal. I mostly stayed in the dresses because a) I'm obsessed w/ dresses, especially for the summer, b) they showcase my good bits - my clavicle looks svelte - and minimize my less good bits - thighs like ham hocks, not gonna lie, and c) I can now wear summer dresses year round. Found two dresses I love, this one (reverse the black and white) and another by Speechless which I can't find a picture of, but which is a gorgeous off-white, gauzy halter with a warm red and brown twig and leaf print and it would look delicious with a pair of strappy brown sandals. Must find out from Paul if we are, in fact, invited to his friends' wedding, when it is, and how (in)formal it will be...

Just Checking?

Evidently the extra 50 lbs of luggage I had was not a sign that I'd remembered all the important stuff. My checks and spare contact lenses are just 2 items that seem to have gone m.i.a. in the packing hubbub (others soon to be discovered, I'm sure). Since my address has changed and I was running low this seemed like a good time to reorder checks. My last ones had a Breast Cancer Awareness theme and were all pretty and pink, but in an effort to demonstrate financial responsibility I decided to go with the standard (a.k.a. boring) cheap checks. After placing my order, however, I had a thought: I wonder if I can get them cheaper online?*

One quick google search and not only did I find the fun checks I wanted, I got them for less than the ugly ones! And while Bank of America doesn't allow you to cancel a check order once it's been placed, the fine people at customer service informed me that I can just bring the new, unused checks into my local branch and they'll refund the price! In these days of direct deposit/debit and online bill pay I don't write checks that often, but as the recorded hold message reminded me, checks do reflect your personality. I believe mine say: Smart, savvy and sophisticated shopper:

And a word to the people at Bradford Exchange Checks, unicorns are only "fun & cool" if you are under 8 years of age. Don't encourage people to think otherwise by putting those checks in said category. Same goes with anything animated. Disney and Peanuts I'll give a pass on because it's classic (although Walt was a bit of a fascist anti-Semite so we should really think about the extent to which we want to support the corporation bearing his name, but that's another post altogether), but if you are old enough to have a checking account you are too old for SpongeBob SquarePants. If you have weird fetishes, keep them private - don't advertise them in your financial transactions.

*Note: the answer is almost always 'Yes'.

Uninsured and Unsure

Mother of God (hi Mary, what's poppin'?) apparently not ever having had my own car has been a blessing in disguise. Between the two of us Paul and I have a BA, a BS, 3 Master's and 1.5 PhD's, and yet after talking to the majority of the employees at the Automotive Association of Southern California we're still not entirely sure what we're got to do to re-register both the cars in both our names.

Life in Solana Beach

I haven't even been here a full week yet, but I'm working hard to get acclimated. I'm trying not to be grumpy and keep a positive attitude. Here are some of the things I like so far:

• the weather - flip flops year round? I'm on board. As much as I love shoes and fashion my daily attire is much more lazy student than Vogue subscriber; it makes getting dolled up all the more special.
• the beach - on the 4th we crossed the street, went down the stairs, and hung out w/ friends. They brought a hibachi, and my Independence Day dream of having a hamburger and a hot dog off the grill came true. They also let you drink on the beach here, and when we ran out I just took the cooler back home and refilled. I gave boogie boarding a try, too!
• the vegetation - since it's warm but not too hot and sunny but not scorching the growing conditions are pretty favorable for a wide number of things. People have the most amazing rose bushes, lemon trees, succulents and other lovelies in the gardens. I've got 4 little pots of seeds out back in a first attempt at an herb garden.
• my job - I trolled Craiglist for a few weeks before moving out here and on my first full day started working as a personal assistant to Mr. Z. He's a little cuckoo for coco puffs, but he's liberal, puts his money where his mouth is (in the form of anonymous donations), and super nice. After our 1st hr together he gave me the keys to his Audi so I could run errands while he napped. Yesterday we shared green tea and let the insurance company know that big companies can't keep treading over the rights of individuals so they'll see us in small claims court.

That said, there are a few things I'm less than excited about and need a little more time to get used to:

• the weather - one day and I'm spoiled. It's been overcast the past 2 days, and I am positively indignant about it.
• sand - an unfortunate corollary to the beach. I grew up in a pool, but I'm really trying to embrace the salt, seaweed and sand of beach life, so long as we're at the beach. The problem I have is with the sand infiltrating every square inch of the apartment. You can't have a cup of tea without getting grains in your mouth. I find sand everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. Every time I change I think I'm going to find a pearl in my lady garments. No amount of vacuuming, showering, scrubbing, sweeping or sticky-lint-brush-rollering seems to help.
• the neighbors - the owners of the house are gone for the summer, and the current subletters are not the quietest people. Why they feel the need to practice their jigs in the wee hrs of the morning in cement shoes is beyond me, but that's clearly what they're doing because there is no other plausible explanation for the noises coming from above.
• the bird - our apartment is accessed through the back patio doors, and there's a sloping driveway beside the house that leads to it. Apparently there is a nest on this part of the property - where exactly we can't tell - but the mama and papa bird have been dive-bombing with tenacity that would impress WWII kamikaze fighters. Paul actually swatted one of them the other day in a half-hearted defensive arm swing. I don't like to interfere with nature, but I also don't fancy getting my eyes pecked out by some avian soccer mom.

Still, I'm a big girl and am soldiering on. Today's task is to crack the code that encrypts all the information on the website for the California DMV.

Happy Birthday, America!

I've arrived in San Diego just in time to celebrate July 4th. I kind of hate July 4th, the same way and for the same reason I kind of hate New Year's Eve - it's so over rated and hyped up that if you don't have the most fun ever you feel like you failed somehow. It's a set up for disappointment.

This year, however, is different. For starters I've already gone for a 2 1/2 mile run (which makes it different from most days), and I'm going to spend the rest of the day on the beach with a bunch of ex-pats (go fig) drinking beer and eating hamburgers and hot dogs. This is a celebration I can get on board with.

OG - Original Grandparents

In my rush through my layover in Wakefield I almost forgot to see my grandparents. My flight wasn't until 5:30 yesterday, so after walking with my dad and before seeing my sister and niece I went over for a few minutes. Highlights of the visit:

• Grampy telling me that holding Kayley was "the greatest joy of my life."


• Helping Grammy try and find her hearing aid (which, apparently, she wraps in a kleenex when she takes it out - perhaps not the best routine) and telling her that Grampy hid it so he'd have an excuse to yell at her. [Don't worry - got an e-mail from my dad when I arrived last night letting me know the call had come in - they found the hearing aid and were exhausted from their day long search.]


• This note, left on the kitchen table, which is just quintessential Grammy and Grampy:

It reads:

#1 Bob there are two bananas wrapped in white napkins behind the buttering dish in the refrigerator.

#2 Bread for toasting is in the refrigerator. Please put it back for Helen.

Thank you.

Love Helen

If Paul and I can have an ounce of what these two have together, we'll be just fine.

Foot count

Although all of my posts aren't shoe-related, I feel "shoe addict" is still an apt moniker for my blog. People often ask me exactly how many pairs I have, and I generally guesstimate around 100. In the midst of packing today I was clearing out my old closet which contains, among other things, lots of shoes, so I thought I would count. I was just around 30, until I went downstairs and saw an entire Adidas duffel bag bursting with footwear that hadn't made it upstairs yet.

Here's the official inventory:

• sneakers = 7; running = 3


• boots = 6 (2 knee high, 2 calf, 1 ankle, 1 snow)


• flip flops = 2


• sandals = 5; w/ heels =5


• wedges = 3 (although 1 is actually a sandal, I felt its defining feature was its wedge-ness)


• heels = 8; dress = 7 (these are ones I would actually wear to a wedding, and many only go with a specific dress)


• flats = 3

Giving us a grand total of 49 - I overestimated myself! I think 49 is completely reasonable.*

So what have we learned? I clearly need more flats.

*This, of course, doesn't include the other 26 pairs I have hanging around that I don't actually wear anymore but am just not emotionally prepared to part with.

Interior Design?

It's been a good week hanging at the 'rents house. I miss NY, but the departure hasn't really sunk in yet. Also, I'm finding things to appreciate around here, like the never ending supply of Snackwell's cookies and the ability to do 5 loads of laundry without being interrupted by anyone. Staying at my parents' often drives me mental, but I'm trying to chill out a little and just focus on what I need to get done for the move, not on the random collection of crap in the dining room (corn on the cob shaver, my sister's Sophomore Hop picture, a how-to pamphlet for self melanoma screenings - the usual).

After looking at the lawn pictures again, however, I was struck by how incongruous the inside and the outside of 151 Prospect are, so I thought it would be informative to take others behind the landscaping.

Welcome to the wallpaper tour. We start in the kitchen, where the blue motif has always been carried over into the dishes, cups, and linens: Next we move into the dining room. Whenever I inquired about the design schemes in the house my mom would explain to me that 2 gay men lived in the house before my parents bought it. Allegedly they had matching curtains to compliment the wallpaper and it bothered Nancy immensely that they had taken the window treatments with them when they left:I imagine in the late 70s this was very nice, but it makes me think of a partridge in a pear tree, and I get hives just thinking about the pale blue tablecloth and napkins we have to suffer through at holidays.

As we move out into the living room we find a more subdued and textured pattern on the walls:

This is actually the only one of the group I would even consider using intentionally... anywhere ... ever. I do like the gold hues and think it could work in a 18th century France inspired room with a vanity and a fainting sofa. There is a shelf on the wall which displays a small collection of china tea cups and saucers which I quite like and suggests to me that at some point in her life my mother had an eye for aesthetics beyond mallards and Betty Boop. However, there's also an old arm chair with an ill-fitting slip cover and the cat's scratching post, so the theme is somewhat lost.

As we move into the hallway and up the stairs we're confronted with this:

Eww. It's even worse with the water stains near the ceiling. I'm sorry, but even in the 70s I bet this looked like vomit. Alternative sexuality or not, this could never have been chic. It's depressing and makes me want to bleach something.

In the master bedroom we encounter the most "dramatic" of the wall coverings:

If you have a sudden and inexplicable desire to go on a safari, don't worry, it's a perfectly natural reaction. What can one say about this print? It makes me think of using a bamboo reed to breathe while underwater. It also makes me think of spin art and cream cheese brownies.

Finally we come to what was, for 21-years, my sister's room and is now where I am desperately trying to sort through all my personal belongings and stalling by spending way too much time staring at the walls, literally.

I think I've finally found out why my sister was so afraid of bugs when we were little. Let's take a closer look:

Seriously, would you want to wake up every morning and have a dragon fly, albeit a wallpaper print of one, that close to your face? Dragonflies are all cute when they're bedazzled and diamante, but in real life they're gross. I think this may have had a made a strong impression on little Stephanie's psyche.

Well that concludes our tour. I hope you now have a better appreciation for why this house needs the help of every makeover program TLC produces.

Reasons I'm a Grad Student

Me: You going for a walk tomorrow?
Dad: Yeah.
Me: You want company?
Dad: Sure.
Me: What time?
Dad: 6:30, 6:45?
Me [incredulously]: Are you serious?!?
Dad: Yeah, what time were you thinking?
Me: I don't know, something more civilized, like 8. Do you get up at that time everyday?
Dad: Yeah.
Me: On purpose?

House Pride

After mowing the lawn Sunday, which, incidentally, my dad claims is the best Father's Day gift he's ever got - not quite sure how to interpret that, Paul was making fun of me because I was whining a little - I had to take a break half-way through, needed a nap afterwards, and my hands hurt the next day.

Lest anyone think that cutting the grass chez mes parents is no big deal, I present to you the lawn at 151 Prospect St.






Mow that.

Well put

I've never met Sara, but I've been reading her blog recently because she made this amazing travel wallet for Beth and has agreed to make me one. She's also getting her PhD (although in physics - fancy pants), and a comment on one of her posts caught my eye:

Grad school is a disease and the only cure is the PhD. Can't wait to finally get out myself ...

Couldn't have said it better myself!

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.]