March 31st 2005

This is just funny

Today’s quickie horoscope:

No one can leave their options open forever. Pick an avenue. Explore it.

What’s next?

CNN’s top headline right now is that Terry Schiavo has died.

I’ve tried really hard not to comment on the case or situation, firstly because I really don’t know very much about the legal history, and secondly because I don’t know that adding my two cents about the rightness or wrongness of things will really help the discussion.

I am curious, though, to see what happens next. The time constraints that have propelled the Schindlers to continue filing appeals and motions are gone. Will they now withdraw into private life or will they continue to fight the courts and their son-in-law? I think the latter is highly likely—too many groups have embraced the Schindlers as poster children for their own movements, and I suspect they still have a great deal of animosity against Michael Schiavo. So I wonder what legal step they’ll take next. I suspect we’ll continue to hear about this case over the coming weeks, at least until the next big thing happens. Now that Ms. Schiavo has died, though, I wonder how long the public will continue to show interest in the case.




The Dreams I Dream Each Night

Last night I dreamed my grandmother was giving me a bunch of her old clothes—cute vintage stuff from when she was younger—and while we dug through the stuff, we listened to music from my iPod.

Except that everytime I hit play, it tried to play a podcast from ai, and for some reason I didn’t want my grandmother listening to the podcasts. Oh, and every time this would happen, it would be a completely new podcast that I’d never heard.

I had to check this morning to make sure there wasn’t a new podcast up. That would have been freaky.

March 30th 2005

i am pleased to note

We all know the new Harry Potter book is due out this summer.

Two summers ago, I was in Oxford for a couple of weeks and took the opportunity to pick up the entire set of books—then, the first four in paperback and the fifth in hardback—in the British editions. After all, Harry & Co. are British, so reading “sweater” for “jumper” in the American editions always made my palms twitch.

In preparation for obtaining the new book in the British edition as well, I visited and ran the numbers. It will cost me approximately $32 (or about £17) to bring the new book across the pond.

I’m not pre-ordering today, but I’m glad to know that the shipping, at least, doesn’t exceed the cost of the book. I’d have paid it anyway, but it would have irked me a bit.



I will say only this: negative people SUCK.

If you find yourself muttering and sighing and bitching to yourself under your breath but loudly enough for your colleagues to hear you, you might be a NEGATIVE PERSON.

STOP IT. Please.

This PSA paid for by me.

he was right, this isn’t fun

Our realtor is optimistic following an open house in our home last night. Mr. Angst, though, is taking everything he says with a whole shaker of salt. I’m sort of in the middle—after all, what benefit does our realtor gain by putting a shine on things? If he says things are going well and they’re not, we’ll know rather quickly, yes? About the time we notice that our house isn’t selling, yes?

So anyhoo, I’m trying to stay sort of upbeat about it all. People are apparently interested, people will be trekking through our home this week and weekend, people will hopfully be making offers soon.

But I just want it over with. I feel sort of overwhelmed with all the details of my life right now—not just making our school decisions, but also keeping our finances straight, maintaining a seriously clean home (which does not come naturally to me), and, of course, the actual process of selling a house. So I’d like to all end.

I’d also like to have more interesting things to post about, but, well, supra. Hopefully I’ll be able to post soon about our adventures in apartment hunting, both here for the short-term and somewhere else for the long-term.

March 29th 2005

some things aren’t right

My brother-in-law just sent an email with the words “big pimp’n” in it.

I’m a little disturbed.

a drop in the serious bucket

Mr. Angst and I attended an admitted students’ dinner last night for one of my schools. It was at what might be the nicest restaurant in town, so it was worth it if for no other reason than that we got to have a full meal at a place we’d probably never spring for ourselves. (NB: the food was OK. I managed to eat two things that had heavy-ish sauces and Mr. Angst’s Kobe beef was apparently chewy. But the wine was fantastic and the raspberry sorbet on our chocolate tort/cake thing was to die for.)

The dinner was small—small enough that everyone could sit at the same long table. We were about evenly mixed between admitted students, and alumni, and there was one current student present. I think I lucked out—the alumnus I sat next to happens to be in academia—he’s a visiting scholar at a university nearby, and he’s published, &c.—so I got to talk to someone who is on a track I’m interested in. That was the best part of the evening. Also, no one gave us the hard sell, which was nice. This decision-making process is miserable enough without that.

Here are some things I noticed:

The other admitted students were very nice. I didn’t get much chance to talk to them—they mostly congregated at the other end of the table, while Mr. Angst and I were between three alumni. I felt a little old, but that’s probably to be slightly expected. Mr. Angst says I didn’t LOOK older than the other admitted students, so thank you, Mom, for the good genes. I found the alumni and the law school official who were there to be MUCH more helpful than the current student. I asked her at one point how big LWR classes were (meaning, how many students?) and she seemed to think I was wondering how IMPORTANT LWR was, and tried to downplay it by mentioning that LWR grades aren’t curved. Oy.

I had hoped the evening would give me some big insight or underscore either a very big positive or a very big negative for both of us, and that didn’t happen (of course). I keep wandering around, hoping that something or someone else will make this decision for us, and that’s a foolish wish, I know. In the car on the way home, Mr. Angst said he’d enjoyed himself but that a fancy dinner wasn’t going to make him decide one way or another. He’s being smarter about this than I am.

So. The evening was nice; it was helpful to hear a little something about the academic track from someone who’s been through it (although in a slightly nontraditional way). It was nice to feel out my prospective classmates and the alumni network and to get some solid information on the school that’s not from the website. But nothing, really, has changed. I still feel the same way I did about both of my choices, and I suspect Mr. Angst does too. We’re still sitting on a fence, counting cows in both fields and trying to figure which grass is sweeter.

friend girls

My bestest friend in the whole world came to visit me yesterday, and I took the afternoon off so we could have lunch, get manicures, and act like fools at an early happy hour. She showed me her new shoes (hot pink satin with ribbons that tie around the ankle) and I moaned about not knowing where to go to school next year. Another friend of ours showed up for drinks and we oohed and aahed over her new engagement ring and laughed about boys and jobs and driving yourself to the emergency room and the silly names our acquaintances are giving their children.

Sometimes a good afternoon of girliness is all that you need to set you right again.

March 28th 2005

wow. i don’t think that’s ever happened before

I made it through Easter without having any Easter candy. That was pretty purposeful on my part—I didn’t do a basket for Mr. Angst (or for my family/guests) because it was just going to be too much work and I wasn’t really up for it.

But somehow, I made it through Easter without even thinking about Easter eggs. I didn’t hardboil any, I didn’t dye any, I didn’t even have a twinge of desire to make or buy cascarones. I just didn’t.

Now, I’m pretty sure I don’t eat eggs anymore, but I could have at least had some around the house. I feel sort of disappointed in myself, that I forgot EASTER EGGS. I don’t know why.

March 27th 2005

and i’m spent

It’s been kind of a hectic weekend.

I slept in yesterday, knowing that it’s likely to be my last lazy Saturday for a while. I expect we’ll be up early for the next [several weeks, month] while prospective homebuyers traipse through on the weekends. But once I was up, I trekked out to the grocery store to buy food for the Easter feast. Of course, once I left the house, it began to pour. Something about me, leaving the house, and rain, I guess.

And we cooked dinner and watched The Bourne Supremacy (which I found MUCH better than The Bourne Identity, probably because I haven’t read the second book). And I crashed; I was tired. (Oh, and somewhere in there, I touched up my haircolor. THAT’s hard work.)

I was up by 7:30 this morning, and off to church for two services, during the second of which I remembered I hadn’t made the pastry I meant to make yesterday. I knew that would push back dinner by about 20 minutes, and that freaked me out, so I spent part of the service (namely, while everyone else took communion) writing out a cooking plan. I hate when I forget something.

And home, to cook and cook and cook, and send my brother to the store first for soda (we wanted mojitos) and then for wine (my mom got food poisoning yesterday and couldn’t pick up any). And time for picking on my sister was found, along with time for offering her some of our stuff. (This is in keeping with tradition—whenever I move, I give her shit.) And we ate and enjoyed dinner, even if the red wine-shallot sauce was an oddly disturbing shade of purple. I cleaned as we went, and we laughed and drank wine.

Oh, and we fixed my parents’ car—their ruptured gas tank, to be exact. I guess they drove over a piece of rebar and were leaking gas. While I roasted the potatoes and boiled the green beans, Mr. Angst drove my stepfather to CarQuest to buy some goo for sealing up the puncture. It worked, thank God. And the entire adventure might have been worth it if for no other reason than seeing my stepfather (5′7″, 140 or so) tricked out in some of Mr. Angst’s (6′3″, 230) shorts and a t-shirt. He looked like Alfalfa!!

The dishwasher has been run twice, now, the table is cleared off and our Easter flowers are playing centerpiece. The windows are open and we’re enjoying the crisp night air and the Simpsons. Life is pretty good.

Happy Easter!

March 26th 2005

Whatcha wanna know?

Yeah, I’m lame, but I don’t have a lot going on right now that’s post-able.

So leave a comment with your requests, or email me with whatever you’re burning to know. It doesn’t have to be about me. I’ll try and answer it anyway!

March 25th 2005

and you thought YOUR lawyer charged too much

I THINK, maybe, this guy will be disbarred. Maybe. It IS Texas, after all.

Friday Spies©

From the guys at BTQ:

1. What blog, other than your own, do you read the most?

Um, I don’t think I spend any particular amount of time on any particular blog. I aggregate everything, so I read when there’s a new post. If a particular post looks like it’s going to generate a good comments convo, I’ll return often, but only till it passes. Basically, blog reading is like a buffet for me—I don’t spend too much time at the mac and cheese or the salad bar, and I make sure I stop by each station at least once so I don’t miss anything.

2. Are you a gadget person? Do you have the latest thingamajigs and whoozits and geegaws? What sort of gadgets do you own?

Oh, good God, yes. I am SUCH a gadget person. That being said, I don’t necessarily have the NEWEST gadgets at any given time. In fact, I almost always buy my gadgets right before they’re about to be obsolete—or at least upgraded. Like, I bought my Palm Pilot right before the nifty color-screen Palm Tungsten came out. I missed the boat there! I bought my iPod right before they all got a size bump. Damn! I even bought my computer—a G3 Powerbook (Pismo)—right before Apple came out with the cool Titanium Powerbooks. I’m always slightly behind the curve. Of course, I usually get a kick-ass deal on all this stuff, so I can’t complain.

However, my cellphone is about four years old and is a hand-me-down from my brother. Cellphones are one place I just can’t see the value added. I don’t need a camera or even a color screen. All I need is a decent interface for entering numbers and sending the occasional text message—and a clear, strong, signal.

3. If I gave you $1000 on the condition that you couldn’t spend it on something responsible (e.g., bills), or save it, what would you do with the money? (Can you tell that a Democrat is asking that question?)

You just CANNOT ask this question of a soon-to-be law student with some bills to pay. You can’t! If I had to do something fun with it, I guess I’d take a vacation. Probably go out to Tahoe and ski for a few days.

4. What are your five favorite sitcoms of all time, other than “Seinfeld” and “The Simpsons”?

These are sitcoms I liked when they were on. Some I still like, some I don’t:

The Dukes of Hazzard, M*A*S*H, Golden Girls, Friends, and Scrubs

So, I do NOT apologize for enjoying Golden Girls. I DO apologize for enjoying The Dukes of Hazzard, because when I catch on CMT nowadays, I see how truly awful it was. And I do NOT apologize for enjoying Friends. Even in the bad seasons when Ross was the MOST annoying person ever and you just couldn’t understand why Rachel would even CONSIDER getting back together with him. M*A*S*H and Scrubs are just good, always and forever.

5. Organize a film festival based on a theme. Choose a theme and a handful of movies with that theme, and tell us what you’ve chosen.

Theme: Movies about women that make me cry

Terms of Endearment: Shirley MacLaine and Debra Winger and Jack Nicholson and OH MY GOD the most tearjerking movie EVER. The perfect movie for two good girlfriends to sit and watch with a bottle of wine.

Steel Magnolias: Sally Field, Shirley MacLaine again, Olympia Dukakis, Dolly Parton, Darryl Hannah, and Julia Roberts. Same as above. Always reminds me of college.

Beaches: Such a quintessential girl movie, with lots of crying and sadness and it’s not a GREAT movie, but if I want to go on a nice little crying jag, this one will do it.

Little Women: No, I don’t think Winona Ryder was a very good choice for this film, but they managed to pull it off. This movie came out back when Clare Danes wasn’t a husband-stealing starlet, so I still had respect for her, and Kirsten Dunst was still an annoying brat a la Interview With the Vampire. Christian Bale is in it, for God’s sake. And Gabriel Byrne. So, some serious yum AND a good crying scene.

The Virgin Suicides: Kirsten Dunst is the only known actress in this film (well, unless you count Kathleen Turner, but eek, no thanks). And it’s really a movie about the boys who watch the Lisbon sisters from afar, but it still counts and gets to play in my film festival.

Now, you may look at the slate of films for my festival and say they are pedestrian or lowbrow or even cheesy. But it’s MY film festival, and I want dozens of women weeping in their seats. So there.

March 24th 2005

just when you think you’re all growns up

When do you get too old for acne?

I woke up this morning with what appears to be a ginormous CYST on my face. And instead of showing up next to my nose or on my cheek, it is UNDER my right eyebrow.

Everytime I raise my eyebrows or squint or make any sort of expression at ALL, it hurts. Like a mother.

I want to weep.

answer my questions!

I’m sending out a request to law-student blawgers out there, particularly the ones who go to either of the schools I’m considering:

What is the faculty-student relationship like at your school? Is there a general “open-door” policy, or are faculty difficult to connect with? Do faculty show up to social events or not? Obviously, I’m asking in a general sense—I’m sure there will always be faculty who are standoffish in relation to everyone else, and vice versa. But I’d like to get an idea of the general environment, the general interaction between professors and students.

Many thanks.

March 23rd 2005

and so it begins

One of the trying things about being in a church choir is Holy Week. If you don’t know what Holy Week is, it’s the week leading up to Easter. A lot of people don’t know that the three days BEFORE Easter are almost as important, theologically, as Easter Day itself.

So Holy Week starts on Palm Sunday (that was last Sunday), and goes through Easter Day. Really, though, except for Palm Sunday, Holy Week should be called Holy Four Days�Maundy Thursday,[1] Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and, of course, Easter Day. (Some would say Easter Day shouldn’t even really be included, because the beginning of Easter is really the Easter Vigil, which happens on Saturday night, but now I’m really digressing.)

Because my church has a really strong music program, and Holy Week is the most important time of the year in the Church, well, we do a lot of music over the Holy Four Days.

So tonight, I have my regular Wednesday night rehearsal. Tomorrow night, I have a 6:15 call for the Maundy Thursday service, which begins at 7 and will probably go till 8:15 or 8:30. Friday, I have an 11:15 am call for the Good Friday service (I’ll be late because I won’t be leaving work until 11:30, but oh well, I know the music); it starts at noon and runs a little over 2 hours. And, of course, Sunday I have my regular 8:20 am call for two Sunday services, but we’ll be singing three times as much music as we usually sing on a Sunday.

Whew! I will note that I’m bagging the Easter Vigil service this year, since I really can’t handle four services on four consecutive days�and my voice certainly wouldn’t thank me. Plus, with the house going on the market Monday, I have to have time to do another good cleaning.

I love being my choir, I really do, but I also feel no guilt about saying that I am going to be completely choired�and churched�out come Sunday afternoon, as I cook Easter dinner for seven people.

  1. “The word “Maundy” comes from the Latin for ‘command’ (mandatum). It refers to the command given by Jesus at the Last Supper, that his disciples should love one another.” Definitions: Maundy Thursday at

meme meme bo beme banana fana fo feme…

Via Sui Generis:

  1. Grab the nearest book. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.
  2. Open the book to page 123.
  3. Find the fifth sentence.
  4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

I’m working on a Physics course today, so you get a sentence from the textbook:

“Mineral deposits, for example, often have a greater density than does surrounding material.”

I guess it’s a good thing that page 123 wasn’t smack in the middle of the chapter’s page of problems. Then there wouldn’t have been ANY sentence. Whew!

me, unprepared? it must be getting cold in hell

I’m a pretty anal person when it comes to being prepared for stuff. I certainly overprepared for our trip to DC last fall, and the smoothness of that trip only reinforced my tendencies.

Well, we have another trip coming up, and this time, I find myself totally unprepared.

I don’t know why I didn’t think that a cruise to the Bahamas would require some sort of proof of citizenship—even going to Mexico, you have to have at least your birth certificate and license. Well, I have a passport, and it’s not expired, but it doesn’t have my married name on it. Shit!

We got our cruise packets last night, see, and I began flipping through them and realized that I either needed to get my passport updated in a jiffy or take half a day off and go over to the state office where I could pick up a copy of my birth certificate. Thank God I live in the state capital!

Thankfully, it seems I can bring my old passport along with a copy of our marriage license/certificate, and that will be just fine. After all, it’s just a cruise to the Bahamas. But the whole snafu reminds me that we don’t have a hotel for the night before we depart (gotta fly in a day early in case there are plane problems), we haven’t figured out our transportation from the airport area to the pier area (apparently it’s about 50 miles), and I don’t have a cocktail dress appropriate for “formal night.” (I wouldn’t worry about it, except this cruise is for a wedding, and “formal night” is, essentially, the reception. I want to look nice for all the family photos we’ll be taking.)

Argh! I probably also ought to make an appointment to get a faux tan, because I am ghostly right now. Add that to my pre-trip list.