The Truth About Twilight: Part II.

I'm up to Chapter 3 or 4 in Twilight, and I'm peeved. One of the earliest encounters between Bella and Edward is a rip-off of the pilot episode of Roswell, a show for which I have a special place in my heart (excluding season 3, of course, because Tess is a bore).

Plus, Max is way cooler than Edward. Fo' shizz.

I'm a Grown-Up, But Not an Adult.

I have a 401(k) now, although I don't really know how it works. I keep getting these prospectuses in the mail that are wrapped in dark plastic. I get that my finances need to be kept confidential, but I swear my neighbors think I subscribe to multiple nudie magazines.

I don't know what's more embarrassing: that, or the possibility that they might think I'm too stupid to know that I can get nudie pix for free on the internet.

Chabon Ranking.

Of what I have thus far read of Michael Chabon, my favorite author, here is my ranking from best to worst:

1. Wonder Boys.
2. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay.
3. The Yiddish Policemans Union.
4. The Mysteries of Pittsburgh.
5. The Final Solution.

I just finished YPU (for which one of my freshman college roommates wrote a laudatory blurb that appears inside the front cover). The ending has problems, and doesn't quite transcend the hard-boiled drama in the way that Chabon achieves in the first 2/3rds of the novel. Oh well, still awesome. Of these 5, I really only actively disliked The Final Solution.

The Truth About Twilight: Part 1.

I give up. I do have limits. For example, even though I know that there are three Jonas Brothers, I don't know their names. Even though I know that Miley Cyrus and Hannah Montana are the same person, I couldn't tell you what season they're on. And even though I've seen High School Musical (please, who hasn't? losers, you're missing out), I have not seen 2 or 3.

But for this, I caved: I bought the trade paperback version of Stephanie Meyer's Twilight. You might have heard of it. Even if you're a snob, or more likely, a grown-up with taste. Scratch that, you don't even need taste. But this has become such a huge phenomenon, that I'm dying to know what all the fuss is about. So I picked it up. And I started reading last night.

It's awful. But there's something about it that makes me want to keep reading. So here are My Reactions, Part 1, because the internet wouldn't be complete without anonymous surfers being able to find the Truth About Twilight.

• I've finished Chapter 1, and so far I've learned that Bella is from Phoenix, Arizona, and that somehow counts as a city of irony. Sorry if I scoff from over here on the, you know, entire eastern seaboard if I think of kittens and poodles frolicing when I consider Arizonian-sarcasm. West coasters are so cute when they think they're disaffected.
• Also, I can't help but picture Robert Pattinson whenever I read about Edward Cullen. Granted, Meyer only describes him as devastatingly beautiful (sort of like me, but actually beautiful), so I don't have much clay with which to imagine my own Adonis, but it's the fate of reading the book after the movie.
• The trade paperback copy happens to have Robert and Kristen Stewart on the cover, instead of the red apple. That blows. I kinda liked the cover themes.
  

Happy Christmas, and All That Jazz.

I have a new crush. It's Grammar Girl.

I downloaded her podcast to keep me company on my drive home for the holidays, and I fell head over heels in love.

Something about the 40 year-olds. My law school friends know what I mean. Then throw in impeccable grammar, and I never had a chance. For sure.

Nerd.

My brother introduced me to this game called The Settlers of Catan. It's been around forever, but I'm just now getting into it. It's nerdtastically addictive, and best played with more than 2 people.

Basically, you have this randomized board, where you have to create settlements, cities, and roads based on a combination of luck and skill. Whoever manages to establish a stable enough settlement wins. There are buckets of rules, but they're all pretty intuitive, so you get the hang of it pretty quickly.

It's geekariffic. Believe you me.

Esquire.

Check it. I'm officially a lawyer, admitted to practice in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. I got sworn in today. The best part? You get a complimentary pen reading "Welcome to the Mass. Bar!"

The pen doesn't write very well. What a noble profession.

In Bruges.

I rectified the little issue I had of not having seen In Bruges, for which Colin Farrell was nominated by the Hollywood Foreign Celebrity-Stalkers Association. Here's the sweet and lowdown: it's awesome.

Sometimes these little movies don't seem very movie-ish. I don't know if it's the low budget, or the self-indulgence of the writer-director, or what, but I definitely watch these film festivalish movies with a healthy dose of patience. But In Bruges transcends its small screen trappings, skips right on past the "intertwined lives" crap that Hollywood thinks is so clever post-Pulp Fiction, and manages to mix irony and earnestness in just the right way.

Colin and Brendan need no exposition to catch us up to the moral crossroads that they, as hitmen on the down-low in Bruges (get it?), have come to. That the movie respects us the audience to be able to patch together their backstory, and that the movie has a coherent enough backstory for us the audience to patch together is just the bees-nees. This little snapshot in time is more than a snapshot -- it has a true beginning, middle, and end. With that, and letting us laugh at the most un-PC of jokes (what a relief!), this fable ends up feeling so much bigger than a little movie.

Flame.

I totally want this:



Color me totally seduced.

Me Learn Goodly.

Last night, I went to dinner with friends to celebrate the holidays.  We totally noshed on some way de-lish sliders as appetizers.  I always thought that sliders as apps was weird.  Sure, their small, but you eat a lot of them at once.  Basically a meal's worth.

 

But way more importantly, I don't get why they are called sliders.  So I looked it up.  Sadly, not as interesting as I thought.

 

[/best blog entry ever]

I'm Not Ever Leaving My House.

For passing the bar, I celebrated by buying a new flat-screen TV. A friend of mine pointed out that buying it on Amazon would save me literally hundreds of dollars. The only downside is the risk of a 3rd party deliver service possibly messing things up. Meh, I went with it, and because I saved money, I threw in a Blu-ray player, and still came out "saving money." (It makes logical sense to me.)

The Blu-ray player I got is BD-Live enabled, which means a lot of things that I don't understand, but most importantly for me, it means that I can watch anything labeled "instant" on Netflix on my TV at any time.

It. Rocks. Bunnies. Lots. Of. Bunnies.

Golden Globes: The Nominations.

So first of all, you all realize that the Golden Globes traces its roots back to completely bogus beginnings, and that the Hollywood Foreign Press Association sounds fancy because it named itself such without being really legitimate. That said, they are some of the smartest sycophants ever by creating an award that attracts celebs from all over to party with them. Come on, that's genius.

So in the past few years, I've gotten more and more "into" the movie awards season... and it sort of culminated in an anti-climactic way last year. I watched the Oscar Awards--which is usually my favorite TV special of the year--and was completely bored. It has nothing to do with the terribleness of the show--it's ALWAYS been terrible. It was more that there was absolutely no surprise. I had read so many prognostications about the chances of various people winning that there was no longer an element of wonder about it. And yeah, I get that it's all one big publicity stunt, but I'm a nut, so there.

Anyway, this year, due in no small part to me having an actual, you know, job, but also because I am consciously trying to do so, I'm going to try and ignore all the pre-Oscar "chatter" that goes on, and just go for the ride. That means no daily awardsdaily.com for me. That means I didn't even realize that the New York Film Critics nor the Los Angeles Film Critics gave out their awards. And you know what? It's sort of nice. Like, I looked at the GG noms this morning and was actually surprised.

• I have no desire to see Happy-Go-Lucky. It seems like Topsy-Turvy reborn. For some reason, that movie won a bunch of crap, when it was just a bunch of crap.
• I love Colin Farrell. I have yet to see In Bruges, but this was a huge surprise. I love that he got recognized for one of his littler films, because that's actually where he got his start.
• I still don't understand why Musicals and Comedies get bunched together.
• What the hell is Last Chance Harvey?
• I think it's great that Marisa Tomei keeps getting nominated for stuff everyone so often. She was such a joke after winning for My Cousin Vinny, and I heard she's intolerable in person, but there's something sweetly poetic about the fact that she can actually, you know, act. (Compare Mira Sorvino.)
• I want Kate Winslet to win an Oscar so badly. I think she is everything right about a movie star.
• I don't understand the whole "Foreign Language Film" category. Why doesn't Slumdog Millionaire qualify?
• I can't wait for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

And for TV stuff, because I heart TV more than my toes:

• Fox... FOX... is the only network to get a drama nominated. Fox. Really? Really?
• I remember when I would fill blank VHS tapes with nothing but Thursday night Must-See TV NBC shows. While I love 30 Rock and The Office, the sad state of NBC these days breaks my heart.
• I don't get it... what happened to the Cable Ace Awards? Aren't they supposed to "honor" what is essentially being honored here?
• I swear. It's like each of the 100 or so members of the HFPA has Monk, and nothing but Monk, on their TiVo.
• I don't get why the GG puts supporting actors in both drama and comedy series together with supporting actors in movies and miniseries. That's just nuts.
  

Off My Chest.

I just finished watching the Top Chef episode of Gail's bridal shower.

First of all, long ass tables like that suck for mixing and mingling. I mean, forget it, if you arrive separately from the one other person you know, there's no way you're going to end up sitting near them.

Second, do you think Gail and Padma are actually close enough friends in real life that Gail would normally invite her to her shower?

Third, I get that it gets its name from an island, but I still think that the name of Jeff's restaurant in Florida is just, just terrible.

Fourth, I love the Bravo voiceover echo-y voice. So classy.

Fifth, I think that Drew Barrymore looks like she has gobs of makeup splotched onto her face in that new CoverGirl commercial. I doubt that's what they were going for.

Today? Really?

I'll blog about the Golden Globe nominations later tonight, but first reaction...

 

This morning as the Today show was congratulating Danny Boyle for the nominations of Slumdog Millionaire, they showed a montage of the ending of the movie.

 

I was dumbfounded, just DUMBFOUNDED that they would do that.  I mean, sure, *I* guessed the ending while I was watching the movie (because I'm awesome), but when it occurred, the audience I watched it with gasped audibly together.  It's one of the most emotional parts of the movie.  Why, WHY would you give that away on national TV?

The Really Important Thing.

The man is both insane and pond scum. Is it terrible that I think saying his name is fun?

"Blagojavich."

Hee.

Many Internet Personae.

One of the problems with being old in internet years is that some of my current email addresses and AIM screennames are based off of words that I thought were, you know, cute and cuddly in middle school. It's a little embarrassing to have to tell customer service reps my email address to verify my identity. (HYPO: Them: And can I have your email address that we have on file for verification? Me: My email? Um, it's mrcuddlywuddlykins123@hotmail.com. Yes, that's w - u - d, right, d as in doggie, another d...)

See, for random arms length business stuff, I give out my crap email address so that the huge amounts of spam that I will inevitably get from their "privately" providing my addy to various solicitation mailing lists won't ruin my everyday emailing. I have a separate email for friends, family, and other important people relationships -- like my employer. And then I have my work email which is for strictly professional communication.

Finally, I've had enough. I created a new email account hosted by yahoo. I can't use gmail because I want it to be a relatively straightforward variation on my name so that service reps won't have a hard time understanding me, and my friends/family email is already, you guessed, a straightforward variation of my name on gmail. The problem is, yahoo has been around for such a long time that any variations I tried were taken. (Meh... it comes with having a fairly simple Asian name. I'm used to it. Makes searching for me on facebook an endeavor worthy of only the noblest of hearts.)

But, yahoo offers other addresses. First, I could do @ymail.com. I think that's a terrible idea. I think that gmail is go common, that lots of idiots, I mean, nice customer reps will assume that a "y" is really supposed to be a "g" and then you won't get that one email that says that your credit card bill is ready to be paid. The other choice -- which I went with -- is... @rocketmail.com.

Unsurprisingly, virtually all my variations were available. I can't tell yet whether this is any better than snufflesmcpickapocket@yahoo. Sigh.

Apartment Watch: Part II.

Previously, on apartment watch.

-It's winter, and my central A/C is keeping me warm just fine. +2.

-The gym is done and it's actually not too shabby... +2.

-...but it looks nothing like what was advertised. -1.

-The roof and the patio still aren't done. -3.

-I guess it's not such a big deal because it's winter, and I'm busy with work. +1.

-While I like my apartment's location vis-a-vis the hallway, my neighbors are, um, loud... several times a week... at random hours of the day. -2.

-The washer/dryer actually does dry, but it spins so fast that everything comes out the shape of the inner tube. Still, I figured out how to make it automatically go from wash to dry (it's one of those space-saver all-in-one doodads from Bulgaria). We'll call it a draw. +0.

-The dishwasher is half the size of a normal dishwasher, so I can actually run a full load fairly frequently. This is amazing for the environmentally-conscience single person, of which I am one. +1.

It Hurts My World.

When I was little, the brand of jeans I wore came in two sizes: slim and husky. It seems like the good clothiers at Dockers(?), or at least an ersatz Dockers of the 80s, figured that kids are so disproportionate that they shouldn't bother trying. Well, I'll just say that the day I had to go husky was a bittersweet day of feeling like I was growing up and like I was a lardo.

So growing up, it was pretty common for my parents to buy me clothes that were too big because I'd "grow into them." Makes sense. Until, oh you know, puberty, and you stop growing. But I had it so ingrained in me to save money that I continued long after the spurt to buy clothes that were too big.

Sometime after college, I finally broke that habit and learned that, no, I'm not a 17" necksize no matter how awesome it is for a necktie not to choke me to death on that size collar, I'm actually somewhere between a 15" and a 15.5" (depends on how much salt I've had that day). No, all my vast stores of "L" t-shirts that I scammed for free from every website I could find are not good for going out (I'm either an S or an M depending, and I can actually wear a kids "L" quite comfortably). And now, apparently, no I'm not a size 10 shoe.

This past weekend I was freaking out because I thought I was starting to shrink, aka getting old. But my friends talked me off the ledge and told me that you can lose fat in your feet (they might have just made this up to calm me down). You see, this was all prompted by the fact that I bought some shoes recently and they seemed HUGE on me. We're talking Sideshow Bob here.

So I set to work figuring this out. I think somewhere along the line of growing up, 1 of 2 things happened: (1) I got it in my head somehow that I thought that the size of your feet in inches corresponded a bit better to the size of the shoe... it doesn't, or (2) they started making shoes really big. I'd like to think it's (2), so that I don't feel stupid again, but I don't think I'm quite so lucky.

So yeah. We're gonna see how 9.5 works. I guess.

Mind-Blowing New Facts #2 and #3.

In addition to that Arizona awesomeness in the last post, I also learned yesterday that the Lost Colony of Roanoke was in present day North Carolina, and not, as I had always thought, in present day Virginia. (Sure, there is a Roanoke, Virginia, which likely is the source of my confusion, but still, for someone as awesome as I, that's no excuse.)

Also, I rarely do this (mostly because I don't have to obviously) but I had to admit that I was wrong about something that my brother corrected me on over Thanksgiving. I completely forgot that the president pro-tempore is after the Speaker of the House and before the Secretary of State in the presidential line of succession. I think I had thought that the VP's loose association with the Senate was a sufficient enough nod to that body for presidential order. Jebus.

I am getting stupid in my old age. Either that or everything I learned when I was younger was wrong. Neither thought is sitting well with me.

Arizona and Indiana Are So Awesome. In a Messed a Way.

I had to check a time zone for a city yesterday, and I came across a map similar to this one:



I know that at some point in my life, I learned that Indiana is all messed up because different noncontiguous parts of it follow different rules for time zones and daylight savings observance. Maybe it was that West Wing episode where Josh et al get stranded there during a campaign stop? Anyway, further research confirmed that, yeah, it's messed up.

So this map of Arizona intrigued me. I found out that Arizona doesn't observe daylight savings. Ok, that's not that earthshattering, what with Indiana's red-headed stepchildness. But then I learned that the portion of the Navajo nation in Arizona does observe it. BUT THAT'S NOT ALL. The Hopi Reservation, which is completely enclosed by the Navajo nation (how very Lesotho of it), does not observe it. Hence that awesome donut shaped time observance.

I have literally not stopped telling everyone I pass about this since I learned it. I insist you do the same.

Gross.

Last night, I had food poisoning for the second time in about two months.  I've prided myself (unreasonably) for having a high tolerance for bad food.  I once ate a 3-day old Taco Bell burrito... and loved it (hey, it was properly refridgerated -- although the lettuce had melted).

 

Apparently my tolerance isn't that high.  Or I need to stop eating garbage.  One or the other.

And the Winner Is...

...Fox.

It's December. The TV season is pretty much in full swing, with some shows being considered hits (see CBS's The Mentalist) and other shows being cancelled (see, well, not anymore, CW's Sunday night line up). As for my list, you can see the current sitch on the left. The only new show that I've continued to watch is Fox's Fringe. Why? First of all, Pacey is awesome, weirdly thin legs and all. And second, it's more than aptly been able to balance stand-alone plots with an overarching thread (something I can't say for one of my other faves, Life). Even the Cate Blanchett wannabe who plays the lead has grown on me.

But that's it! And I gave a LOT of new shows a chance. I've even devoted precious blog space to some of these new shows. Oh well. So as it stands:

NBC - The Office, 30 Rock, Life (Heroes is still technically DVR'd, but I haven't seen the last, like 5 eps, and I have little desire to)
ABC - Eli Stone, Pushing Daisies
CBS - HIMYM
Fox - Fringe, The Simpsons, Family Guy
Other - Top Chef

This isn't encouraging. (Remember, I put TV above food in terms of life importance.) It's especially bad because my two ABC shows have been cancelled. Yes, yes, there are some off-cycle shows that have recently wrapped up, like ANTM and Project Runway, but I have to take stock at some point. And they'll be back soon anyway (well, ANTM at least).

So bring on the midseason replacements I say. From whence Eli Stone came, perhaps others will follow. Some shows are merely returning midseason, but others are totally new. Here's what I have my eye on right now:

ABC - Lost (I'm sticking with it for now, last season was good, but I still haven't forgiven it for the 2 before that.)
NBC - Kings (The buzz is good.)
Fox - American Idol (Duh.), Dollhouse (The buzz isn't good on this one. Oh well.)
The CW - Reaper (Why didn't it start in the fall?)
Other - Psych (I refuse to watch The Mentalist.), Battlestar Galactica (I'm a nerd.), RW/RR Challenge: The Duel II (Did I mention I'm a nerd?)

How do I have time for all this? Easy. I don't.

Slumdog Millionaire.

Ever since I read about its success at the Toronto Film Festival, I've wanted to watch Slumdog Millionaire. So I did. And it has stuck with me the past couple days, and that's a rare, but welcome aspect of good movies.

So Jamal is this dude from the slums of Mumbai, India, who somehow gets pretty far on India's Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. (It's unlikely, despite the protestations of the masses, that I'll regale you with my own failed pursuit of eternal happiness in this blog, but I will say that Jamal's cinematic pursuit is much, much cooler.)

It's a fairytale--something that critics I usually admire--recognize. But then at the same time they recognize the form of the story, they lambaste the same for plasticizing what should shock us (the movie in no way "ennobles poverty," Owen). It seems to me that when a movie takes on a specific form of storytelling, and either successfully reinvents it or just executes it really well, then that's a good thing. Here, Danny Boyle has done the latter. The fairytale before us makes us--forces us--to dive headlong into the poverty of the slums. That we know it turns out okay doesn't gloss over the horror, it provides us with the bannister to hold while we descend into what we otherwise wouldn't want to go: the life of a slumdog.

A couple of side notes that aren't worth mentioning, but I will anyway. First, it struck me that the movie feels dated by anchoring to such a huge phenomenon like WWTBAM. I wonder if that was intentional. And second, I totally guessed a key part of the ending. Something I've done before (see, e.g., Ender's Game and Saw). You'd think that a geek like me would think that's an awesome skill to have. I don't.

I Think Awesomely.

Entertainment Weekly has this feature called "The Bullseye" where they track the past week's pop culture randomness and rank it from awesome to not-awesome. Awesome stuff is closer to the bullseye, while not-awesome stuff can show up as far away as a different page of the magazine (very meta).

Just want to point out that in the November 28, 2008 issue, the one with Patrick Wilson and Kate Winslet making out on the cover, one of the not awesome items on The Bullseye reads:

Note to recording artists: Please stop asking us to buy the expensive deluxe versions of your year-old album.

Sound familiar? Yeah. I read too much EW.

Make Up Your Mind.

Black Tuesday was bad.  But Black Friday is good.  Ok.

Who Does This?

I've been a bit backlogged with Netflix and reading my Entertainment Weekly. I think it's this, you know, job I have. So I was reading the issue from a couple weeks ago, and I noticed that the cover of the magazine was for Twilight. Now, I'm not ashamed to admit this, because I think my friends sort of expect it by now, but I like keeping up with what's big in pop culture-- so I've, yes, seen High School Musical from beginning to end and I've even deigned to watch a whole episode of Hannah Montana. However, I have yet to read or see Twilight, because I don't think even I'll like it, but it's getting hard to resist, truth be told.



To make a long story short (too late, I know), EW sometimes publishes "collectors covers" for an issue. Like, it's the same content inside, but there might be 3 different covers, as here. So my question: Does anyone actually go out and collect all the covers? Like, even if you were a huge Twilight fan, wouldn't you want something cooler than a magazine cover? Like a lock of Robert Pattinson's hair? Or something less creepy, I guess.

Trivia is the Best.

I saw Role Models tonight. Kick. Arse. Paul Rudd is the man. There's some Renaissance Fair type stuff in the movie, and I told Reva that I'd rather go to a comic convention than a Renaissance Fair. She'd do the opposite. But she said that she would have gone to a comic convention during the time that Buffy the Vampire Slayer was on the air. Who wouldn't? That reminded me that Alyson Hannigan, who played Willow, and is now Lily on the best show on television right now, is pregnant. Good Buffy fans know that she's married in real life to Alexis Denisof, who played Wesley, Faith's Watcher. (So far -- coolest blog entry ever.) This was shocking to all because the best show on television just wrapped up a storyline where Lily and Marshall decide to postpone having kids. Now we have to wonder how the show will handle Alyson's pregnancy.

We debated whether it was better to ignore the pregnancy (like Debra Messing on Will and Grace -- although this example never came up in our conversation tonight -- yesh, everything else so far did), or better to write it in. Adding a baby doesn't always work, because as Reva noted, ignoring the baby during the show just makes the characters seem like bad parents -- like Rachel on Friends. Which made us all agree that how Friends dealt with Lisa Kudrow's real life pregnancy, by making Phoebe be a surrogate to her brother with triplets so that she would have to give away the kids on the show at the end, was perfection. (This is just the best blog entry I've ever written.)

And that of course, made me think of George Harrison's I Got My Mind Set On You music video from way back when. Why? Little known fact #1: There are actually 2 versions of the video. And little known fact #2: Alexis Denisof is in one of the versions.

You see, this stuff -- this awesomeness -- this I know. The law? Despite evidence to the contrary... not so much.

Version 1 (with Wesley):



Version 2 (without Wesley):

My First Gift to Myself.

This t-shirt. Courtesy of threadless.com. I've wanted it ever since I saw it on EW. And now in 3-5 days, plus 0-3 for leaving the warehouse, it will be mine.

Where's the Ding Ding Ding?

Frankly, the only reason I watch America's Next Top Model anymore is for the final montage after the last episode when the winner is announced, and that collage of photos of the contestants right after they got their makeovers starts deleting the losers in order one by one. And then the winner's photo is the last one standing, and the soundtrack goes "dih dih dih dih dih dih." Seriously. 13 weeks for that.

And they didn't do this time.

And Tyra looked possessed. By Elvira. And not on Halloween.

EDIT: I totally found it on the web. The fade out song is called "Free for All" by Nick Nolan. Here's an example of the end of a season when Jaslene won:



And here's the entire song, set to clips of Tyra et al. being nutso:

Beyonce.

Sasha Fierce's new song is called "If I Were a Boy."

Sasha, I will call you whatever the hell you want if you continue to keep the English subjunctive mode alive.

One Ounce.

I haven't had to travel for work yet, but it is likely that I'll have to at some point. It was suggested (strongly) that I never check bags if I can help it. This presents a small problem. I use Proactiv-- because I think Jessica Simpson is the smrterest person evAH!!!--but the two main bottles for the wash and the toner are 4 ounces each. You can only carry-on bottles that 3 ounces or less.

Don't worry, I have more important problems in my life.

Short People.

Yes, I'm freakishly tall for an Asian person, but I can't be the only one who legitimately thinks that short people with open umbrellas are down right dangerous.

I'm Posting this Remotely.

By the way, I passed the bar.

Blogging is Hard When You Have a Job.

Why is it that people always say "there are no bad questions," but those same people will answer some questions starting with "good question . . ." and other questions with nary a hint of praise?

You can totally tell which the speaker thinks are the bad questions.

Cool.

This is the man I hoped he'd be:

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled - Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It's the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

This is the man I am honored to have elected:

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, "We are not enemies, but friends...though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection." And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn - I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.

It's a pretty awesome day.

It's Not a State.

Hulu is tricky. For the most part, I love it. But hulu has some weird rules about when it releases new episodes of shows, and how long they will keep it on the site. If you read the comments, people crap and moan about not having the shows on all the time. I'm not one of those people. Hey, remember when you used to have to watch the show live, and sit through commercials? Yeah. Stop complaining.

But I did happen to mess up by missing the first few episodes of Fringe on Fox. And I'm a big geek, so if I miss the first one, it's not likely that I'll watch any part of the rest. Hulu had episodes 1 and 2, and then it didn't, and then it did. So basically, I almost gave up on it, but then didn't, then did, then didn't, and now I sort of like it.

Except that the show referred to Massachusetts as "state of" instead of "commonwealth of," they don't actually show the real Harvard even though it's supposedly set in part there, South Station totally doesn't look like that, and Anna Torv is so not Cate Blanchett. Other than that, I like it. Pacey's cool, although he's got bizarrely skinny chicken legs. (Look closely.) And the dude who ate the turkey leg with the hobbit in Return of the King--you know, the dad who Faramir will never impress--is cool, too.

And speaking of Boston, there's a radio commercial for some auto insurance company, Progressive? Geico? Nationwide? that plays on the Boston accent by having an actor say "Park the car in the garden yard." Yeeeeaaaahhhhh. Whatever. That's so offensive, I don't know where to start.

Colin > Joe.

Yesterday, I recorded the Ellen show because both Colin Farrell, my favorite actor, and Joe Biden were scheduled to be on the show. Now, I love me my Hollywood actors and stuff, but Colin was scheduled to go on before Joe. Really? Really? I mean sure, *I* get it, but I'm fairly certain that whatever Joe's got going on right now is maybe a bit bigger than Colin's new movie.

Whole Paycheck.

Whole Foods double-bags its paper bags. Seems counterintuitive.

Apartment Watch.

You'll recall that I'm skeptical about my apartment. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. So here's where we are to date:

-Today, I called the office because my new "central" A/C system hasn't been working correctly. I'll set it to 72, the air will blow, but the room won't get any colder than 78. So I called them, and asked them to fix it, and they fixed it . . . today. That's the fastest I've ever had an apartment request fulfilled. Ever. +2

-Last night, they were putting a new carpet in right in front of the elevator. During the evening rush hour. Seems like they could have chosen a better time to do that. -1

-The gym, the roof, and the patio still aren't done. -3

-I totally lucked out with the location of my apartment relative to the rest of the hallway, in terms of traffic to the elevators, and traffic to the trash room. +1

-The washer/dryer DOESN'T DRY. -1

-Our building has valet dry cleaning. This means I can drop off a bag of dry cleaning in the morning, and in two business days, it's waiting for me in the same closet that they receive packages in. +1

-The elevators smell like sweat. And not the good kind of sweat. -1

The watch continues.

Really All That Difficult.

DC cabs have finally switched to meters instead of zones. Is it too much to ask that they also use the roof light to signal whether or not they are occupied? Seems so obviously win-win.

I'm Sick.

I checked out Valentine on the CW last week because I'm a sadist. It wasn't terrible, but I doubt I'll keep with it. But there was something nagging me -- I knew I knew Kate, the mortal who helps out the gods (don't ask), from somewhere, but I didn't know where. Imdb reveals all:

Kate, played by Christine Lakin...



... is better known as Al, the tomboy from Step By Step.



This blew my mind. Almost as much as Jaime Murray playing the mother of Kristoffer Polaha on the show, even though they are the same age in real life. Almost.

Fat People Don't Have Souls.

Also found by EW, on funnyordie (from which I got these awesome James Franco videos).

Journey. Rocks.

Entertainment Weekly does an awesome job of finding crap on the internet. They have a circulation of 500k. I have a circulation of 5. It's my duty to pass these things along.

I Heart J and J.

Jacoby.



Jon.



My favorite Red Sox are just on this post-season. Ridiculous Game 4.

This photo is way cool.



On to the Rays. True story.

On Politics: The Choice.

Those who know me know that I dislike conflict. I veer from the dramatic. It's boring occasionally, but that's the way I am. So much so, that I don't even like discussing politics... and I live in bloody DC.

But today, I sent in my registration and my absentee ballot application. I'll be getting back a ballot soon, and then I'll vote. Sure, in Massachusetts, the winner of its 12 electoral votes is a foregone conclusion. I joke that my vote won't matter. Of course it matters. It's just a joke (albeit stemming from the bitter reality that North Carolina -- NORTH CAROLINA where I've suffered for 3 years WILL most definitely matter).

Then I came across this article today via RealClearPolitics (the best summary website of political news out there), coming from the editors of The New Yorker. I happen to hate it when the media gives its opinion about anything, or speculates about what could happen with a bailout, instead of just reporting what happened. But the New Yorker I guess isn't really news, and never purports to be. It's mostly a literary magazine, and a snotty one at that. (I also hate it when celebrities stump for political causes. To be clear, I much prefer the infinitely saavier Brangelina approach of: "if you're going to invade my privacy anyway, i'm going to fly to Africa and make you see what's going on in the world").

I started reading the opinion , because I had a slow morning... and I kept reading... and kept reading. And ultimately, I found myself agreeing with everything in it. It perfectly encapsulates the anger, and desperation, and hope that I have about this election. I don't usually do this, but yeah, I'm making my vote known.

The piece is obviously an endorsement. It's by no means an objective article. But it does at the same time suggest how awesome things could have been under a McCain presidency. There was a time where I would have followed that man. Where "maverick" wasn't just a cutesy political term, but an actual description of someone who was well aware of his duty to his constituents, and not his party. But he has changed. He's pandered to those who shunned him in elections past. And his pandering is way more frightening than Obama's (Barack's kidding no one, he's a politician, too).

It's no mistake--as momentarily startled as I was--that I apparently registered as a Republican the first time I voted in Massachusetts. Yup, I called up my town clerk to check to see if they had my info on file (I've since registered and voted in other states like New York and North Carolina), and there I was -- a Republican. (Don't freak out... a Massachusetts Republican is still a socialist everywhere else in this country. And, I changed immediately changed it back to good ol' "Unenrolled" in case you're wondering.)

Here's my scatter-brained point. Eight years ago, George Bush was elected president. I accepted that. I didn't vote for him, but he was still my president. Thing was, he forgot that. Bush forgot that you don't just become president of the people who voted for you. The losers aren't supposed to lose. Except we did. And, in fact, so did the "winners." And so the fact that after eight years of one of the worst presidencies in history (seriously, click that link and remind yourself of just how quickly the U.S. lost its international capital), the election is as close as it is is fucked up. It's fucked up.

We missed our chance at a true McCain administration. We won't get it even if he's elected. So, yeah, that vote of mine that won't matter? I can only hope that it doesn't.

Copycat.

Adam did this ultra nerdy thing where he previewed the top ten fall films he's looking forward to. Duh. How have I not posted this yet? Well, I suppose with all the promises I've made about posting about Australia that I haven't followed through with, that's not such a surprise. Then again, I've only been at this 10 months. And we all know that blaming ineptitude on lack of experience releases you from the responsibilities of leadership.

Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Because Elizabeth Banks should be more famous than she is, but in the meantime, I'm enjoying watching this hidden gem of an actress as if I'm in on a cool secret.

The Brothers Bloom. Because I'm a sucker for con-men movies. And Mark Ruffalo.

Pride and Glory. Because I'm a sucker for Colin Farrell.

Australia. Because I just went there, and there's nothing but posters for the movie in all the Qantas terminals. And because Baz Luhrmann has the audacity to make a movie, and not just point a camera at pretty people speaking lines.

Revolutionary Road. Because Sam Mendes is a director I actually care about, and because Kate Winslet should have won an Oscar by now.

Doubt. Because plays rock. But also I fear the translation to screen. For example, Proof just did not have the same oomph on screen as it did in person, where intimacy is a given, and not a challenge to overcome. I didn't see The History Boys in person, but I could tell that it didn't fit on screen.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Because it looks awesome. And because some of us wish that Brad Pitt would in fact become younger again.

Twilight. Because I'm a sucker for pop culture phenomena.

Slumdog Millionaire. Because the word on the festival circuit is that this movie is awesome.

Rachel Getting Married. Because I'm intrigued by Anne Hathaway, who radiated intelligence but struck me as limited by her mannered acting... until she impressed with just a smirk in Brokeback Mountain. She's been getting all sorts of buzz for this one. And I'm a sucker for good acting.

And because they are already sort of out in theaters, I'm not going to include them in this list. But they are worth noting.

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. I love Michael Cera, but I'm worried that he's a one-trick pony that is going to be run into the ground before he has a chance to make it. Actors with his sense of timing are a rarity, and needs to be kept around for as long as possible.

Eagle Eye. I love B movies. The ones that do decently in theaters, although no one can remember when it was in there. The sort of movie that everyone can half-heartedly accept as a Saturday night video from Blockbuster when 6 people with wildly different tastes want to stay in. The sort of movie that will end up on endless replay on TNT, TBS, USA, FX, Comedy Central, MTV, VH1, or SpikeTV. I also love Shia Laboeuf.

Blindness. Julianne Moore is my favorite female actor of all time, and Mark Ruffalo is one of my top 5 male actors of all time. I wish early word on this movie were better.

Blogging Dilemma.

When I started this blog earlier this year, it was in part to document the rapid changes that would happen from law school to law firm. I figured it'd be a cool place to store harmless reviews of pop culture, anecdotes from daily life, and skewer the events of the day.

But, things are trickier than I thought. I'm into week 2 of my new job in my fancy new law firm, and for everything I want to write about, be it glowing praise or cynical ridicule, I can find any number of reasons why NOT to write about them. There are far, far too many stories out there about businesses coming down hard on employees who blog about them--and especially in the law where confidentiality isn't just a selling point, it's grounds for disbarment--I don't want to say anything. Trust me, a fellow summer associate almost learned this the hard way last year. (Luckily, I'm so awesome at Googling, I helped tipped her off that she'd best stop blogging about the law firm.)

So what does that leave me? Well, there's always the tried and true pop culture riffs that I like so much. Except that with my new job, I have virtually no time to watch movies or TV, or to read books, let alone blog wittily about them.

So, yeah, the gist of all this? I have no idea. But I'll figure something out to write about. Giving up on something that I'm so awesome at would be decidedly lame.

My Apartment AC Was Just Upgraded to a Digital Thermostat, and I Can Actually Feel Air Coming Out of the Vent.

Also, Alex Trebek knows how to pronounce Concord correctly.

So yeah, good day.

Sweet.

The main reason to keep playing hard to the end? Win the division to avoid the Angels in the first round. But warm fuzzies all around.

Trends and Trivia.

Yesterday, I was trendy, and went to a new green restaurant that just opened up in DC on Thursday called Founding Farmers. Highly recommended DC fare, and environmentally friendly! Of course, I took a taxi to get there instead of walking because I'm lame.

Then I went to Mr. Yogato, which is DC's version of Pinkberry. You can get 10% off if you answer a trivia question correctly. I chose movies as a category:

Name 6 actors or actresses who've played the U.S. president in a movie, and the movie they were in.

Of course, I got it right. And even had a seventh just in case.

I Caved.

Despite everything, I decided to go with IKEA yet again to furnish my apartment. It's just impossible to argue against the fact that my total bill for two shelving units, a bathroom shelving unit, a desk, a desk chair, a coffee table, and a doormat for under 500 bucks.

Even better, I managed to fit it all in my Elantra. Dude. For reals. This car is the size of a baby bunny rabbit, and I got it all to fit.

A view of the trunk from the rear:



A view from the front. The rear seats fold down to open access to the trunk.



I want to have my car's babies.

Scratch That. My DVR Is NOT Working.

No one knows what a "flurge" is. Google it. See?

Re-Connected.

Thank peaches. I'm back online, and more importantly, I'm back with DVR.

It wasn't on my list, and yeah, I know, some people think I watch enough TV as it is, but I happened to have the TV on the CW waiting for the America's Next Top Model repeat to air, when a repeat of Privileged came on. It's about this twenty-something Yale grad who gets hired as a tutor to two rich high school-aged sisters to help them get into Duke. I watched, like, a minute of it, and then another minute, and then another, and before I knew it, I was Z-snapping at the TV screen telling Joanna Garcia to go on with her bad self.

Kill me?

But wait! It surprised me. It sounded like a retread of the Sound of Music, only sucky. But then the show made a really interesting choice -- it didn't buckle under the pressure of having feel-good-comeuppances to placate its audience. Instead, it chose to let the teenagers actually be, you know, teenagers -- self-righteous and short-sighted, but loyal -- instead of Dawson's-Creeky-hyper-clairvoyant. It was awesome.

It's DVR'd... for now.

Phase III, Part II; or How I Moved In.

I am in Washington, DC.

Sheesh.

It's quiet. Too quiet. My cable and internet isn't coming until Monday. Three. Days. Away. I'd forgotten (a) how many days ahead of time you need to call the cable company when moving to an actual city, and (b) how many hours in a day there are to fill when you're single, in a new city, and waiting for your job/school to start. God bless the stupid for their unsecured wireless networks.

I still can't shake the feeling I'm being snowed about my apartment. I've slept one night here. Here are the good things so far: (1) it's quiet despite facing the street, (2) it's clean, I think, and (3) move-in could not have been easier. Here are the bad things: (1) closer inspection is showing some shoddy work regarding the renovations, like massive holes in the drywall where the sink pipes come in, (2) writing on the elevator walls that mimics what is all over the internet, and (3) a rooftop deck and gym that don't look as finished as they promise.

Aargh. Thing is, I bet had I never read those internet reviews, I'd love my new place. It has everything I need. After all, once I start work, I'll be longing for a free minute, let alone an hour, each day. So really, what I need is a clean, quiet, and safe building, and that's it. I've never been picky about my past apartments. Maybe because I've always managed to find a place less expensive than I was expecting to pay, and so I was always willing to accept a few minor inconveniences... like mice or a roommate who'd fall asleep to the TV blasting at 3am. But this time, I got a place that's fairly expensive. I guess I never realized how many little things I'd notice and care about once I, you know, paid money.

Too many thoughts. This is why I need TV. To keep me nice and numb.

I'm Old: Part II.

Every year, Beloit College puts out a "Mindset" list which describes the general worldview of the incoming class of college students. It's a fascinating time capsule of how much things have changed in the past 18 years, i.e. about one generation.

Here's a link to this year's list for the Class of 2012. Some of my favorites:

• Shampoo and conditioner have always been available in the same bottle.
• Films have never been X rated, only NC-17.
• Clarence Thomas has always sat on the Supreme Court.
• IBM has never made typewriters.
• They have never been able to color a tree using a raw umber Crayola.
• The Tonight Show has always been hosted by Jay Leno and started at 11:35 EST.
• They may have been given a Nintendo Game Boy to play with in the crib.
• The Green Bay Packers (almost) always had the same starting quarterback.
• The Hubble Space Telescope has always been eavesdropping on the heavens.
• 98.6 F or otherwise has always been confirmed in the ear.

Fall Television.

After twentyeightsomething years of life, the one thing I've come to conclude about myself is that as to pop culture, I prefer television to books and movies, with music bringing up the rear. So, of course, I check myself every so often to see which network I tend to watch the most. Nerdy, idn't it? Lamer yet, it used to be a deadheat between NBC and the WB. So the new fall season has started, and here's what I'm looking forward to, network by network:

NBC.
Currently watch religiously: 30 Rock; The Office; Life.
Has to be awesome to stay on the DVR: Heroes.
New progs I'm interested in checking out: Kath & Kim; Knight Rider; My Own Worst Enemy; Kings.

ABC.
Currently watch: Eli Stone; Pushing Daisies.
Has to be awesome to stay: Dirty Sexy Money; Lost; Wipeout.

CBS.
Currently watch: How I Met Your Mother.

FOX.
Currently watch: The Simpsons; Family Guy.
Has to be awesome to stay: Terminator: The Sarah Conner Chronicles.
New progs: Fringe; The Cleveland Show; Dollhouse; Sit Down, Shut Up.

CW.
Currently watch: America's Next Top Model; Reaper.
New progs: Valentine; Easy Money.

Other.
Real World / Road Rules Challenge is back, baby!

Back to Form.

I think I'm finally over the jetlag returning from Australia. Flying from here to there was much easier to adjust to than flying from there to here. My much promised non-live live-blog of my adventures Down Under are forthcoming.

In the meantime, a vent. I, being awesome, snagged early on the Gmail address "firstname.lastname@gmail.com." What many don't realize is that the period between the firstname and the lastname is just a place-holder: it doesn't distinguish email addresses. In other words, my email could also be firstnamelastname@gmail.com.

This leads me to receive several emails meant for other people with my name. Apparently there's a bunch out there (especially in California -- at least one goes to Cal). It's a problem that I have always had with my name since I got to choose my alumni email address from college, which I selected as "lastname@___.___.edu." Yeah, yeah, not the brightest move on my part, but that format is the norm.

Sort Of.

I'm going to have to write about this more at length. But about my recent statement, with which Adam agreed (because smart people agree with each other, or at least, with me), the situation requires a bit of fleshing out. I just finished the Brisbane leg of my trip, and my hostel there was everything I could hope for. I can't recommend it enough.

So, when I get back to the states, and have sweet, sweet unbridled internet access, I'll be non-live live-blogging (something I like to do) the entire three weeks (with pictures... maybe). And therein, I'll explain the trials and tribulations of staying in hostels as a twenty-eight something year old.

I'm in Sydney now, and will be home in a few days. Cra. Zy.

I'm Old.

I'm done with hostels.

Volcano? I Hardly Know Her.

We returned the rental car this morning, and I sort of miss the GPS system. We had named her Bubby (get it? anyone?), and sort of (read: unhealthily) grew attached. Let's just say, without her (yes, the GPS was female), it turns out that Annie and I have a lot less to say to each other than we thought. Like, nothing. At. All. (Kidding!)

But seriously, folks, we totally thought that the rental agents had an over-under on us as to whether we'd get the car back to them in one piece. I would swear that the dude checking us back in looked disappointed that we were unbruised and unscratched. Driving on the left is no easy feat, my friend. Our Lady of the Highways was good to us this week.

Tonight is my last night in Auckland. It feels weird. I didn't feel weird about leaving Melbourne because we have to stay there one night before moving on the Brisbane, so it didn't feel final. This does. Part of why I took this trip despite the winter in the southern hemisphere is because I just don't know when I'd ever get this long of a stretch of time to make the trip to this part of the world. (Yeah, corporate lawyers don't get a lot of free time.) So now, leaving a city, I don't know that I'll ever be back again. I don't know. It's a humbling thought. It's a small world (just ask Adam), but it's also friggin' huge.

On that note, Annie and I found a Dunkin' Donuts. These Boston bobos didn't pass up the opp. Chocolate glazed were inhaled. Mmm... doughnuts. *Drool*

I Had My Third Meat Pie of the Trip Today. And It Was Good.

GPS = Righteous!

I'm such a fan of the toilets here. They have two buttons to flush, one for a half-flush and one for a full-flush. It's like they actually care about the environment here.

And what an environment. We went to a kauri forest today. I haven't seen California redwoods yet, but New Zealand's version is pretty awesome. (Pictures will be coming forthwith.) The forests containing the trees are so peaceful, we could chat about computer science and not throw up at the nerditude of it all. Really? Really.

Auckland, New Zealand.

We're in Auckland, New Zealand for a quick 4 day jaunt before returning back to Australia. I get the sense that the people here have a hard time understanding the American accent. Whenever I talk to someone, they take a second to realize that I'm speaking English, and that I am not, in fact, speaking an Asian language.

It's cool. We rented a car -- Annie, the trooper, had to learn how to drive on the right side of the car, maneuvering on the left side of the road, and go through eighty-three rotaries. Look! I lived to tell the tale. We went to see the famous Waitomo Cave glow worms (which are really maggots), angora rabbits, and kiwis, whose habitats have been reversed so that we can observe them during the day (they're nocturnal).

Oh, and I forgot: more on Australia. At the McDonald's in Melbourne, they have the Quarter-Pounder on the menu. WTH? AND Subway still has the 6-inch sub. Have you no shame Australia? No love for the metric system? I like the U.S., but I'm not crazy about white flagging it to American hegemony. That being said, I ate something called the McFeast, which was sort of like a Whopper. But I had it without the McChicken Sauce, which is mayonnaise. And by the way, Burger King is Hungry Jacks, I think.

My thoughts are all disjointed, and my usual wit and sass in writing my blog entries is just not available right now. Part of that is because I still think it is 5am yesterday, and because everywhere we drove today, I thought I was in Hobbiton. For reals.

More Melbourne.

Again, I wish I could post photos as I go along. My travel companion and I have a weird sense of humor when it comes to what we want to document. For example, we went to the Fitzroy Gardens, and although we took pictures of the Faery Tree and other tourist crap, we were especially jazzed about finding the Asian Christian Siriano. Be ready.

So I travelled halfway across the world to eat some plum cake, and the bakery was sold out. Instead I had to eat chocolate kuglhupf. I hate it when that happens.

I've been watching a lot of Olympics in my downtime. On one hand, it's awesome because Australia can watch things in Beijing live without destroying your sleep cycle. On the other hand, it's terrible. Aussies excel at sports that I just don't want to see. I mean, in racewalking, if someone passes you, how does your natural instinct not just scream "RUN PAST HIM FOR PETE'S SAKE. RUN."

And Peter, yup, the 1500m was an event. I was at an Aussie Rules Football League game, and 30 minutes prior to the start, everyone was crowded around the TVs watching Grant Hackett lose. It's funny to watch. I don't think they appreciate being filmed like koalas. It's ok, though. Koalas are cute.

Buzzwords of the Trip.

Pegetables. Pet vegetables. Just say it outloud.

Welcome to economy. When you're dealing with an impossible person who thinks they are entitled, although it is unclear (and unwarranted) as to what.

Curling of the phalanges. This is a holdover from the Montana trip. It's... an inside joke.

What Happened to 13?

I'm in Melbourne, Australia. No really, I am. I've spend the day sleeping off jetlag, and trying to make sense of what happened to August 13th. I can't figure it out. Like, at all.

My first order of business in my hotel was to flush the toilet to see what way the water flows. But I was foiled. My hotel has gone all eco-friendly, and so it has a lo-flow toilet that you can either choose lots of water... for you know, twosies, or a little water... for number one. Either way, the water shoots straight down the pipe. CURSE YOU GLOBAL WARMING! It looks like I have to wait a bit more before I check off "flushing the toilet the Australian way" from my to do list.

Completely Worthless.

I started off okay. I had pictures and videos in my blog. Not just words. Lately, I haven't put quite the same moxie into my blog as I started out with. I'll remedy that...

...later.

There are a couple issues to contend with. First, my super awesome brown camera hates my computer and won't upchuck it's contents onto it. That means that I can't pictorially supplement my written wit and wisdom regarding the two weddings I just attended. At least, not in real time. So I won't. Because both my super awesome camera and my blog deserve better.

Second, I'm leaving the country for 3 weeks starting tomorrow. I told you, it's a big year. Again, my (un)trademark(ed) sass and commentary will have to be put on hiatus while I forget that the real world exists for a bit. Sure, the interweb exists "outside the U.S.," so maybe I'll be able to say what's what. What? What.

Be good. I'm leaving the 6th person who reads this terrible blog each day in charge for that day.

Logical.

I'm in Montana for a friend's wedding. At the reception tonight, the urinal was black. I'm actually surprised that isn't more common. Like how darker cars don't get as dirty as lighter cars. Seems like it would apply here.

Why You Should Invest in Mead Every February and July.

Note: I didn't use my new camera for this. Bar review material is not worthy of my fine brown camera.

Welcome to the 21st Century, or the Answer Is Brown.

Yesterday I bought a digital camera. It's my first real digital camera ever. I had a fake one that came with my old Dell several years back. I call it fake because I didn't like it.

Things were going swimmingly at BestBuy. I had my friends' recommendations for a camera in mind, I had a price point set, and I was running on time with my day's schedule of errands. Quick and easy... until the salesperson offered my choice of either blue or brown. Then my mind exploded, and I literally stood there dumbfounded trying to make the decision. I think the salesperson now thinks I'm either "special" or I believe in unicorns which I do.

Phase Three.

I chose to name this blog what I did mostly because I'm not creative, but also because I started writing this blog to document a big year for me. We're entering part 3 of the year: where I move to Washington, DC, and actually start work as a lawyer (that's if I pass the bar).

This past weekend I went to DC to find an apartment, and I got one within a day. It was actually the first one that I looked at. I had scoped it out online first, and thought I might like it, so I had scheduled an appointment first thing in the morning. I've done an apartment search in New York, where apartments get snapped up faster than Britney inhaling Doritos, so I was well-prepped.

I liked the place, but I just wasn't sure. I got the leasing agent (who couldn't have been more than 15 years old) to hold the place until 3pm. Normally, you're supposed to put down a deposit of several hundred dollars to keep an offer open for 24 hours or so, but I got him to hold it for a few hours for just the application fee of $50. That turned out to be my saving grace. I noticed as I was walking out the door that the person after me asked the leasing agent whether I had taken the apartment.

So then I looked at a few more places. One had a living room the size of a shoe box with the bedroom the size of Florida. Another faced the back alley where the garbage dumpster was. Both were about the same price as my first place. So yeah. I wanted the first place. But I forgot to mention that that morning, I had actually bumped into a friend of mine who happened to live in that apartment. I couldn't ask her about it in front of the agent though, so I decided to call her later... only I didn't have her phone number. From about 2pm on was a mad dash to call everyone I knew who might know her number, and thankfully, I got it. She gave me the real go ahead, and I took the place.

At 3:01pm, as I'm signing the lease, the dude who had the appointment after me walked in to see if I had accepted the lease. Me: "Sorry, well, not really, but good luck." What else do you say?

So now I'm one step closer to taking over the world. There's one tiny problem: I've been Googling my apartment complex (it's easy - in DC every apartment has an ostentatious and unnecessary name like "The Croydon" or "The Gables"), and there are some heinous reviews of the management company. I mean downright nasty. I wasn't planning on naming my apartment because I don't want you, dear reader, to stalk me and kill me and take my super-awesome DVD collection, but if the internet turns out to be more prophetic than personal recommendations, you can count on me ripping the company a new one. You're on notice, The _____.

Non-Non-Live Live Blogging the Bar Exam: Day 2.

No, the "non-non-live" description doesn't mean that I actually live blogged day 2. Please. I was too busy destroying my hand writing 10 essays with ballpoint pen in 6 hours. You know what happens after you write for that long continuously? Your wrist locks, and so you start writing with your whole arm, and then that locks, and you have to move your entire body to chicken-scratch out an "essay."

The "non-non-live" description means that this entry isn't actually even going to pretend to be a live blog. Nope, just wanted to point out one thing.

At the end, while we were waiting to leave, and they were checking all our collected essay booklets, the proctor announced that the Manny Ramirez trade occurred during the afternoon session. Many people seemed just as relieved/anxious about that news as they were finishing the bar exam.

Ah, Boston, we really do have our priorities straight.

Non-Live Live Blogging the Bar Exam: Day 1, Afternoon

1:15pm. They fail to mention that we will not have access to the testing hall during the lunch break. But that's where the bathrooms are. That's. Where. The. Bathrooms. Are.

1:20pm. Doors open. There are girls that are racing to the can. I mean throwing-toddlers-overboard pushing people out of the way to be first in line. So glad my gender can pee in under 20 seconds.

1:30pm. My deskmate comes back at the last minute. For a second there I thought she chickened out after the morning session. [Editor's note: Turns out about 20 people did in fact bail.]

1:31pm. The head proctor announces that someone complained of a beeping coming from sections 21 or 22. We can't start until that's resolved. And that's the sound of a thousand law students hating you.

1:32pm. This time I race through filling in the identification bubbles. I've learned my lesson. Don't follow along with the proctor when it's obvious what to do. Yeah, I was that kid in 7th grade. Now look where I am -- a lawyer!

3:15pm. It's halfway through the afternoon session. Full bladder. It's now or never I suppose. How do I do this? I have to raise my hand to signal the proctor to come over to me, but I don't want to waste anytime. I can squeeze out another question while I'm waiting. Ooh... "squeeze" is so the wrong word to think right now. But I can't do that with one hand in the air. Maybe if I sort of flutter my arm every once in a while she'll notice, and I can still sort of take the test. Such a pointless dilemma.

3:30pm. Hmm... mechanical pencil girl seems to be struggling a bit with the real pencil. Sucka.

3:45pm. HOLY CRAP. Someone just turned in their exam. That's a full hour ahead of schedule.

3:50pm. Ok. Another girl just got up. I think it's the same one who left early this morning. I ain't impressed, honey. Ok. Maybe a little bit.

4:00pm. Where the hell is everyone going? Either this is the easiest test in the world or the hardest. I can't tell. They all seem to have that vague dazed-sort-of-happy-but-really-miserable-what-have-I-done look on their faces. But every law student has that look on their face. Thank you! I'm here all night.

4:40pm. I changed two answers. [Editor's note: I had to check this when I got home. Sure enough, neither my first guess nor my second guess were correct. Lovely.]

5:00pm. I'm on the T [the subway] home, and these two sort of pudgy ladies sit next to me, and pull out today's sudoku. They suck at it. Yeah, I'm a major sudoku snob. Comes with being really awesome at it. Note to self: Lead with this fact at next week's speeddating event.

5:10pm. Pudgy lady #1 just complained about sand in her lungs... from last Saturday. It's Wednesday today.

5:15pm. #1 again. She shows off her new flip-flops to pudgy lady #2. Apparently they are not nice enough for "going out," but they are nice enough to "wear to work." What?

5:20pm. Pudgy lady #2 recounts a story of a sweaty man who sat down next to her on the T last week. It had been a really hot day. Summer and all. She was grossed out by it. Really? Because the snowstorm in your hair (and your odor, in which you have no privacy right but I wish you did) gives you license to criticize?

5:21pm. Wow. I'm really judgmental today.

5:25pm. Woman gets on at the Harvard stop. She pulls out Anne Enright's Man Booker prize winning novel The Gathering. Touche, Harvard.

Non-Live Live Blogging the Bar Exam: Day 1, Morning.

[Times are approximate. What do you want? We're not allowed to use computers for the bar exam.]

4:00am. I wake up because I have to pee. And because I'm scared. Not a good sign.

5:55am. Still awake. My alarm is set for 6am. I switch it to 6:10am. I was going to snooze once anyway.

6:10am. Didn't sleep anyway. Great. I only got 4 hours of sleep before the most important test of my life.

7:00am. Stuffing myself with carbs because I don't know how long it will be before I eat again. I buckle and have a sip of coffee. I hope I don't have to pee during the exam.

7:45am. I realize that the hoodie I brought for layering in case the room is cold is actually prohibited because of the potential for covering my head. Luckily I have another shirt in my car. I wonder how strict they're going to be about the dumb rules.

8:15am. Hmm... We did a practice run a month ago, but I decided to take a different path from the subway to the test site. Not smart. Oh, good, he looks like he knows where he's going.

8:20am. Dude, I'm going to the same place you are. I'm not sure why you're running ahead faster than me.

8:30am. Big crowd. No one's been let in yet even though 8:30 is the start time. We were advised to arrive early to be able to use the bathrooms before they start spouting the same standardized test instructions mantra we all know and love. I know the bathrooms are tiny in this place. This'll be interesting.

8:35am. I'm in Section 15. Crap. I'm equidistant from the two bathrooms. This means I'll have to use a maximum amount of time if I need to take a break in the middle of the exam. You win this time people with last names that start with Z or A.

8:40am. Ever since Scantron sheets have required filling in the "empty bubble" below every space you don't use for your name (my full name has very few letters in it), I've had to spend just as much time as everyone else filling those things out. The proctors should know that. Why are they speeding through the longest portion of the intro? STRESS.

8:50am. Where do proctors come from? They're always old. And they always use analog clocks. That's not a good combination for timed tests.

9:00am. Wow. Those girls just got busted for trying to use mechanical pencils. Those were specifically prohibited. I guess they are taking the dumb rules seriously.

9:07am. Begin! Hmm... question 1... uh... um... ok, that wasn't so bad.

9:09am. Question 2... skip.

9:11am. Question 3... skip.

9:13am. Question 4... ... ... crap.

10:30am. This is way harder than Bar/Bri. And the characters in the questions don't have cool names like Poteet.

10:46am. There are some really attractive people in here. Not too shabby Massachusetts. Not too shabby.

11:15am. 45 minutes to go in this morning session and someone already finished. Gunner. I hate you.

12:07pm. End of session 1. Time to cry. And for lunch. And to pee. Not necessarily in that order.

It's Time.

Tomorrow most people start their bar exams. Mass starts Wednesday, so I still have a day. I'm planning on getting a haircut and watching Batman tomorrow, to try and relax. I haven't slept well in weeks. I don't feel ready. I know there's material I don't know. And that's a scary thought.

To everyone starting the exam tomorrow: Good luck!

Not Foreseeable.

I totally don't mean to make light of the situation in Zimbabwe, but despite listening to many reports on NPR via the BBC, there is no way I would have guessed that "Morgan Tsvangirai" is spelled the way it is. Flabbergasting.

Side note: For some reason I created a label for "random" and a label for "observations." I can't for the life of me figure out what I intended the difference to be.

Bye Bye Lexis.

If you search for any law student blogs ("blawgs" as we nerds call them), you'll find early on the same posts during everyone's 1L year regaling the first days of library work where Lexis/Nexis and Westlaw are introduced. They are the 2 major databases for legal reference used by everyone (yay oligopoly -- when will Google buy them out?), and much like drug dealers, I mean, smart businesspeople, they make their services free during law school and then jack up the prices for professionals. I won't go into that part of it much more (seriously, just google for "1L" and "blog" and you'll see the same posts talking about how confusing both databases are -- again, yay oligopoly).

As part of their bait, they have reward points for using their database, sort of like frequent flyer miles, because you know, doing online research is exactly the same as flying to Fiji. If you're awesome, you might accumulate enough points for really cool stuff, like a digital camera, or a TV. Sort of like all that stuff on the top shelf at the arcade that you used skee ball tickets to try and get. I was never patient enough, so I ended up settling for tootsie rolls and Now 'n Laters. So you can imagine how my Lexis point acquisition turned out.

After 3 years: A $25 gift card to iTunes and 2 $10 gift card to Barnes and Noble. Supreme Court library, watch out, I'm a legal researching MANIAC.

I Don't Know Torts. At. All.

A "friend" of mine sent me these good luck cards, courtesy of someecards.com, for the bar exam next week:





Cute. What's even more awesome than this is that said friend added a year of study for a public policy degree, and so won't be taking the bar until next year. Of course, the vast majority of law students he knows are taking the bar this year, so he'll be getting lots of fun good luck emails then.

What To Bring.

Wow. California lawyers either have scoliosis, are ninety years old, or are wusses... or all three. Massachusetts lawyers apparently have been badasses.

Here's what we can bring into the bar exam (in "one clear plastic food storage type bag (maximum size: one gallon)":

• Picture identification (driver's license, passport, etc.)
• Wallet
• Hygiene products
• Keys
• Pens, #2 pencils, erasers
• Lunch
• Spill proof water in plastic bottle (may be carried separately)
• Earplugs
• Medication(s)
• Tissues

Here's what we are specifically prohibited from bringing:

• Any person electronic device (PEDs), cell phones, Blackberries, etc., pagers, handheld computers, personal digital assistants, wireless e-mail devices, camera, radios, tape recorders and calculators...
• Handbags, purses, backpacks, briefcases, tote bags, luggage, etc.
• Notes, books, bar review or other study materials in any format or media
• Head covering of any kind (hats, caps, hoods, etc.) [Editorial note: I'm sure there is an exemption made for religious coverings, but it's not noted anywhere on the webpage. Curious.]
  
• Headphones or headsets
• Weapons of any kind
• Scrap paper
• Highlighters [Editorial note: Boo.]
  
• Any other items not specifically allowed

Cool Chick.

You probably know by now that Estelle Getty of The Golden Girls fame died today. Always playing with age (she was younger in real life than Bea Arthur, who played her daughter), she even had a website. Honestly, I'm sort of amazed that all of the The Golden Girls were alive and kickin' as of just yesterday.

I mean, Betty White's still sharp as a tack, takin' names in Million Dollar Password at age 86. Eat your heart out Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

Slander Per Se.

Does anyone like the buttered popcorn flavored Jelly Belly? It's so heinous. It even looks like it has a loathsome disease. I got stuck with it AND licorice in my 10 pack. Jelly bean gods can be such vindictive bitches.

Mad Genius or Just Mad?

I took a break from studying this past weekend, in preparation of one last big final push to the end. Notice I didn't say "one last big final push to victory." Trust me. That's not assured by any means. I learned from my friend's father, however, that my secret hope possibly isn't mine!

Apparently, MAD Magazine did a spoof based on that very same premise that I wrote about regarding the bar exam. And so, sadly, being old enough to have read MAD back when the dinosaurs were living in high-tech society (Spy v. Spy and the fold-in rocked), I don't know if my previous blog post is just me claiming a memory as a new thought, or if it's actually a new thought.

Deep. I know.

Bar/Bri Down, Bar Exam To Go.

Check it. Thus endeth Bar/Bri bar review for Massachusetts. Here's what I learned from this experience:

1. Don't talk about the bar exam on bar exam day. The idea is that we're not supposed to freak each other out by claiming "there was a really tough civil procedure essay" when in fact, there was none.

2. Apparently not all humans are capable of learning. On more than one occasion, the dude in front of me would (a) lay his bag down exactly where my feet are supposed to go and (b) lean back and stretch and hit my computer and my coffee cup. Sure, he'd say sorry, or look sheepishly away when he did it, but not sheepishly enough, says I. One invasion of clearly delineated personal space--okay, I can forgive that--but 34 times? And I bet he'll still kick my ass on the bar.

3. Apparently the comic book store guy is alive and well. So the people behind me had this to say today...
A:"Did you know that one Oreo has 60 calories in it?"
B:"Actually, it has 75."
Me: (thinking loudly) "Either way, both of you could afford to, you know, stop eating them."

4. Paula Franzese is a goddess.

5. All law schools are required to be kept at a consistent room temperature of 62 degrees. There's no other explanation for why in the dead of summer, you find me wrapped up in a hoodie and pants.

6. Law. Ha. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Hee hee. Hoo.

Dr. Horrible!

I like to think that I'm on top of pop culture crap--sort of like the only thing of social value I contribute to the lives of my friends, who are off doing, you know, actually meaningful stuff. But I totally missed this (BIG thank you to Reva).

I heart Buffy. I heart Angel. I heart Firefly and Serenity. I'm geeked out over Dollhouse. And NPH is all sorts of awesome playing himself, kicking Rachel Ray's ass, or being Barney. Now Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog? Awe. Some.

If I almost missed it, there might be other dorks out there who don't yet know about it. God save them.

So Close.

Bar/Bri has been building so much state pride in me... until today. Apparently, it's still legal to marry your cousin in Massachusetts.

Swing and a miss, Massachusetts. Swing and a miss.

I'm Still on Their Good Side.

There was a big box waiting for my at home today, with big letters spelling out "FRAGILE" all over it. I so hoped it was that crystal pony I ordered to take me away from studying for the bar.

It was even better. A care package from my law firm wishing me well on the bar! I have to confess that my heart pittered and pattered just a bit when I saw it. They didn't need to--recruiting season has long been over--but they did. Now all I need is a crystal pony, and I's all set, ayup.

The Taste of Rain.

There's a disagreement in the world. I hope it gets resolved with minimal bloodshed.



According to Wrigleys, makers of 5 Gum, rain tastes like spearmint. It's not exactly spearmint, obviously, otherwise they would have just called it spearment. Duh.



But according to Gatorade, rain tastes like berry, lime, or tangerine. Intriguing.

I'd like to say that studying for the bar has melted my brain, and this is the result, but no, sadly, this is how I think all the time.