The Good-looking and Slightly Dim



Yes, there is a good-looking and (perhaps) slightly dim guy in one of my political science classes. He sits either beside or behind me, and tries to make conversation with me at least once a class ("So...do we have a quiz today?") He generally dresses like an extra from Dead Poets' Society, but today he was completely James Spader as Steff in Pretty in Pink. I'm talking khakis rolled up ever so slightly, white converse with no socks, white blazer over a very J. Crew-goes-to-the-beach button down...it was straight up preppy 80s. Hey, he may not be good at the conversation, but the boy can dress.

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For those who wonder what exactly I do at my job, here's a taste:

Office-Newsletter Editor Refuses To Back Down

SALINA, KS—Shipping department manager Nathan Harrity refused to apologize Monday for the controversy surrounding the November issue of Shoppe Talk, the Vitamin Shoppe corporate headquarters' internal newsletter.

Hard-hitting newsletter editor, coffee-brewing underling, remover of the paper-jam, sometime computer expert: I am all this and more.

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Must...not...spend...all...my...money...in...New...York...



That's the refrain going on in my head right now, as I consider that Bonnie & casetheplace's Excellent New York Adventure starts Friday. Friday. I can hardly believe it. I'm so excited about it I'm practically buzzing. Although I have a few loose ends to tie up before heading to Hartsfield-Jackson: 3 midterm exams, one midterm paper, and registering for summer semester. Thankfully I've already filed my taxes and completed my FAFSA.



I'm glad midterm is here. The semester has been FLYING by, what with all the schoolwork and socializing and trying to steal a moment here and there to read and write. It just feels really good to be alive right now.

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Taye Diggs to join Kate Walsh in Grey's Anatomy spin-off!!!

The art of losing isn't hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

-First stanza of "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop

I found the iPod shuffle dock, and the Spanish CD, hiding in a shoebox under my bed. I had yet to order a new dock because I kept feeling I would find it soon. Last night something told me to look under my bed and---look!---there they were all along. (The art of losing isn't hard to master.)



The very famous Elizabeth Bishop poem "One Art" came immediately to mind, and since I hadn't read it in a while, I looked it up. She's never been my favorite poet, but if you ever take a poetry class or workshop you'll inevitably end up reading some of her work. "One Art" is, to me, famous for a reason. I mean, it's a villanelle, people! (In short, a villanelle is a French form, and very difficult to make work in English. You've seen a villanelle before if you've ever read Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.") Villanelles make haiku look like finger paint.



I haven't tried a villanelle in a couple of years, and now I suddenly want to try again. Time to break out a few choice rhyming words and a litany-worthy theme.

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The Tuesday that was fat



Delicious, delicious homemade gumbo made by Bonnie, lots of wine, soaking in the hot tub, eating bread pudding in lieu of King Cake---and I found the baby! Which means Fat Tuesday's on me next year, y'all.

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"Tink was not all bad: or, rather, she was all bad just now, but, on the other hand, sometimes she was all good. Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time. They are, however, allowed to change, only it must be a complete change."

-J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Sometimes I feel like Tinkerbell. Not the blonde bimbette Disney version, but the one from the original Barrie mythos: the Tink who, in her all-consuming jealousy, lured Wendy to her near death. An emotion can take over me all at once, consume me, and then, quick as a flash, be gone and completely replaced by another. I've learned how to regulate it much better than when I was a kid and an adolescent, but sometimes, sometimes I still manage to find myself covered in fairy dust.

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You Are Somewhat Machiavellian

You're not going to mow over everyone to get ahead... But you're also powerful enough to make things happen for yourself. You understand how the world works, even when it's an ugly place. You just don't get ugly yourself - unless you have to!

How Machiavellian Are You?

Also, there is a quiz called "What's Your Inner Blood Type?" Well, actually, my blood type is generally inner...unless I've had a really bad day...

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A steady pace




This has been PARTY WEEK 2007. I have had to remind myself constantly that the race is not to the swift, but the strong---which basically means I have had to pace myself and not strain my endurance. So far I'm holding up pretty damn well. Multivitamins and lots of water are no doubt helping.




The singles party Wednesday night was small but fun. We had stayed up late Tuesday night getting everything ready while drinking Bitch wine and eating little French schoolboy cookies. On Wednesday, CV's loft glowed red from the candlelight, we unloaded way more jello shots than we expected to (but still had a bunch leftover!), and after everyone left there was the two of us dancing around her living room giggling. Good times, good times.



Last night I went with a carload of ATLiens to Athens to see The Wydelles at the 40 Watt. We had before-show drinks at The Manhattan, and after the Wydelles played Bonnie and I ran down for feta fries at The Grill. RT ate three sausages from the sausage man (though he claims only two of those are verifiable...) and SR was our very gracious chaffeur.



Tonight I go to the High with my dad.



Tomorrow morning it's back to Athens for the weekend.



Monday PARTY WEEK 2007 is officially over, and I can go back to normal life for a little bit.

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It jiggles!




Dear god, there are now enough jello shots in CV's fridge to get three sorority houses drunk...

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Somebody's got a case of the Mondays




I just finished watching Barefoot in the Park for the first time tonight on TCM, and I was struck almost from the beginning by how much Jane Fonda as Corrie reminds me of Marilyn. (Side note: Bonnie & I are visiting her in NYC in just two and a half weeks, which makes me so excited and happy I giggle every time I think about it.) It's not simply that M is something of a dead ringer for a young Jane Fonda (o, the beautiful, beautiful strawberry blonde hair!) but also the character of free-wheeling Corrie. Good movie, by the way.



Speaking of movies, I also watched a movie Saturday night: Office Space on Comedy Central. I hadn't seen it in years and laughed myself silly. Good movie.



Still drowning in school work. Two field trips to Athens planned for later in the week. Two! I hardly ever go to Athens, and somehow this week I'm going twice. You just never know.



Oh, and the car sold, so I'm officially no longer a car owner. Sweet.

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#1 Grandkid




My reinstatement as Most Favored Grandchild is almost complete. While I did compromise this status by making out with that boyfriend that one Christmas five years ago (I had totally forgotten about this, by the way, until my Cousin M reminded me this past Christmas) and getting a divorce, I am the only one of the Original Three not to drop out of college and have a baby. (The Original Three are the original three granddaughters who pre-date the Febrary 2006 addition of the Twins, Augie and Rose, by 20+ years. The Original Three are the true grandchildren; the Twins are mere spun-sperm, fertility-drug imposters.) In addition, I go visit the Grandparents at least once a month, unprompted.




However, I have concocted a power play that will forever guarantee my status as Most Favored Grandchild. By graduating in December, come hell or high water, I will be the first Grandchild, Original Three or otherwise, to receive a college degree. This endears me forever in the eyes of Grandpa. But, since the eyes of Grandpa are not enough for complete security as Most Favored Grandchild, I have endeared myself in the eyes of Grandma (and let's face it, her eyes count at least twice as much as Grandpa's eyes) by personally securing promises from all family residing on the West Coast to fly to Atlanta in December for my graduation, thus guaranteeing THE WHOLE FAMILY WILL BE TOGETHER AT GRANDMA AND GRANDPA'S HOUSE for the first time in years and years, and perhaps for the last time ever.



This may seem like a little thing, dear readers, but I assure you, it is a major coup. If I can pull this off I will forever rule supreme as Most Favored Grandchild.

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Correction




I realize now that it's "Obamamania", not "Obamania."

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All I'm saying is, when it's time to party, we will party hard.

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It's Friday, y'all + Obamania!



It's Friday! Bonnie and I have airline tickets for New York City! Three weeks away! So excited!



And I have to admit I've gotten caugth up in Obamania. Announcement regarding his "future plans" tomorrow morning! So excited! I read an article yesterday in The New Republic that referred to him as "Senator Sexy." Hell yes. Found out a friend of mine might get a job working for his national campaign staff. Hell yes! Did I mention I'm so excited?! Because I am so excited!



I feel all wound up and full of---what, hope and promise? It's a great feeling.

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Called out




Ok, some of you have called me out on the questionable grammar in my previous post, the one about copyediting. I think blogging is officially in some strange modern communication limbo between written text and a more oral stream of consciousness, so I'm hoping y'all will give me a pass for being more coloquial and "chatty" on here.



You still love me, right?

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A knack for copy editing is a bittersweet curse



I have spent my entire literate life, from five onwards, mentally correcting every written work I see. Improper capitalization makes me twitch, typos make me shudder, and exceedingly poor grammar can bring on a fit of outrage usually reserved for some jackass that cut you off while giving you the finger.



My hyper-attention to details makes me an ideal copy editor. People quickly learn that I can spot a typo at fifty paces (ok, not really, but never forget that hyperbole does have its place in providing proper emotional emphasis). Before long, I find myself proofing everything but the kitchen sink.



This is great, in that it means I will always be employed. However, this is bad when it comes to day-to-day life.



Take text messaging, or txt mssg (twitch, shudder, rage). I can't stand it. I really can't. I usually call back the texter, although occasionally I will text back. Every time I enter "u" for "you" a little voice inside me screams, "OH THE HUMANITY!" It hurts, people. Texting hurts me.



Or take trying to write a ten-page research paper. I can spend hours going over my works cited page, making sure I correctly formatted each entry. Is every period in its place? Did I indent each entry exactly x number of spaces? As if that weren't bad enough, I then have to write the actual ten-page paper itself. It's an absolutely exhausting experience, as I must forcibly restrain myself from going back over every single sentence as I write it to check for clarity and flow. (Yes, I really will go back over every single sentence as soon as I type it. I edit as I go. I'm one of those writers.)



I'm glad I no longer write poetry. I would overthink every line break and agonize whether each adjective was the absolute right one, or if perhaps a metaphor would better convey the emotion and thought I want to impart. It's all I can do sometimes to write a blog entry of this length without completely geeking out about how it sounds.

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Wild hogs ride free




It was Wild Hogs day at the Georgia Capitol, and all the stars came out to promote their film. That's right, yours truly got to see (sorta...through the heads of the media and bikers who got there early) John "Stayin' Alive/Summer Nights/Look Who's Talking/I'm a Scientologist" Travolta, Tim "The Toolman Taylor"Allen, William H. "I'm in every goddamn movie" Macy and Martin "Shenenah" Lawrence. It was a little surreal, being packed in amongst hundreds of Harleys, Harley riders, law enforcement, homeless people, state employees and innocent gawkers while the Governor stood on the steps of the Capitol awaiting the arrival of John Travolta et al as "Free Ride" blasted from the portable PA system. I even ran into my (very confused) former supervisor from a previous internship (she was trying to make her way into the Capitol for a hearing and had no idea what was happening).



I then went to class, late. (Hey, John Travolta on a motorcycle does not happen every day, thank you very much.) After class, shopping for party supplies & dinner with CV. Ran into Rachael. Came home. Cleaned the bathroom. Did some studying. Watched a little television. Decided to write this.



Realize I stopped including a subject about halfway through that last paragraph. Don't care. About to go to bed. Awesome.

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Funny




Ok, click here and then scroll all the way down to the bottom. In the black box there is a section entitled "News and Entertainment" that offers links to EW's sister publications' websites. Imagine my 'wtf' moment when I noticed OFFICE PIRATES sandwiched in between MONEY and PEOPLE. A click on OFFICE PIRATES disappointingly took me to the SI.com site, and not to some bizarro publication about swashbuckling Jim Halperts.

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Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such sport, and the CD ran away with the...




Since I've moved into the IKEA 350-sq-ft showroom, I can't seem to find my iPod shuffle dock or the CD that accompanies my Spanish textbook. The missing dock is really annoying, since my shuffle died about five days ago and the Edgewood Best Buy didn't have a replacement dock when I was there a few nights ago. (Damn buying the trendy, cute, uniquely-docked iPod!) I haven't had time to look anywhere else, or order one online.




Not having the Spanish CD is only a minor nuisance, since I can listen to all the listening exercises on the textbook's website.



Every time I think about the CD and the dock running off together I want to shout after them, "You're incompatible! It'll never work!" but I know it's no use; you can't tell reckless young lovers anything.

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Car-free 2007




My car is in the process of being sold. I left it at my grandparents' house this weekend, and so begins eleven months of car-free living in Atlanta.



My car is the first car I ever owned. I've had it for 2 years and 4 months. I'm selling it because I hardly ever drive it anymore, and I can't justify the insurance and maintenance costs for a vehicle that spends most of its time in the driveway. It's a little scary, being carless in Atlanta, but the city has changed a lot and become more non-car accessible than it was when I was kid. Still, Atlanta's mostly a car city, so it'll be interesting to see how the next eleven months go.



Other than that, same old, same old. Busy to the point of exhaustion, and loving (almost) every minute of it.

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