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The offense of her outfit was superseded only by the guy who cut into traffic between the hearse and the limo, and then passed the hearse over a double solid line.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