Thursday, September 25, 2008

Thinking salad

Everyone loves a good stream of consciousness narrative, don’t they. I think it’s funny how often I studied them in school, loathed them on a conceptual level and the day it finally occurred to me that I was a mild SOC writer myself. The horror. Though that bothers me less now. Though I’ve always wondered if I could even stop being that kind of writer. How do you stop writing in the same path as your thoughts. I suppose everyone’s different. I mention all of this because I am enjoying a Greek Salad.

Which leads me to think of my favorite Mediterranean resterant Arugula

Which leads me to compile my top five list for restaurants

This list is:

  1. Arugula
  2. Tequila Mockingbird (fantastic Mexican not to mention it deserving a place for having such a cheeky name)
  3. the Colony (best pizza I have ever had)
  4. Cambridge house (find better pub food. I dare you)
  5. The Meadow

This leads me to want to add footnotes to the list: mentioning that #1 is always number one. Tequila may always be number 2. Cambridge is fairly new. Meadow is very new and replaces the sushi restaurant in Bloomfield, which had at the time replaced Wasabi. The fact that almost everykind of cuisine is mentioned in this list is not on purpose and is just a matter of conscience. The fact that #1 is a Mediterranean restaurant is not.

This leads me to wonder if I’ve studied so much law that I am now footnoting my own thoughts.

This reminds me of some of the now legal based humor I am routinely subject to

This leads me to wonder if footnoting could have a good place within some of my writing. It would certainly push the form

I get excited about the plans I have for my next creative writing endeavor, which I have come to realize was, on the whole, ignored last year when I worked. At the very least it gives that creative muscle a work out

I fear it may have atrophied

I think of Lackoff and Johnsons work on how many of our conceptual processes are shaped by metaphor. (if you haven’t yet, go read their book and or essays.)

And this more or less gets me to where we started, which the exception of a few detours that came up as I started to type

This salad is good

I’m about to eat the peppers. I hate it when people don’t eat the peppers.

The two best, most constructive things that anyone ever said about my writing where:

  1. “there is an underlying humor to everything you write” I love this because there was no way I could control this, but I felt it added life to even the most boring things I chose to write and it meant that regardless of the subject my personality would to some degree always come through in what I wrote
  2. “you know your characters and have a great scope which is admirable” I love this because I always feared I did too much or too little with my characters. So much of the meaning of actions of a fictional character are no more my doing then the readers so I loved the thought that each of them existed as a sperate entity from myself. In other words there were not 5 versions of me at any given time in my work. Though an aside it is funny to me that one of my best criticisms used the word admirable, which while suggesting no negative aspects, always seemed like a passive aggressive word to me. Don’t ask me why.

I also want to mention that one of these came from a friend, and one came from my “hot professor”. I wont waste typing space discussing that it just seems meaningfully unrelated.

In closing: take your creative muscles to the gym because this is admirable and only pussy’s don’t eat their peppers.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Sunshine and rape exams

I’m so happy today it’s annoying. I’ve told the story at least ten times today so I wont again, but long story short, I was in a deep financial murk, with a loan held up, causing me to take a loan from my parents….never a good things. Well then an unlikely angel of mercy (the US government) came to my aid and rescued me (rather offered me money that solves literally all of my problems). Hurray. Now as a kid I was never into princesses but damn it feels good to be rescued. I may have to do this more often.

That was one of those stereotypical girl things that never got a hold of me, princesses. I mean what was the appeal? They sat around all day waiting to be saved. I always wanted to be queen. I joked about this a lot growing up and then one day my mother told me it wasn’t a joke it was the truth. And to quote her “and you didn’t want to be the queen to have better jewels and a king, but to have absolute power”. This seems harsh. And unfortunately true. I was always more interested in adventure stories and I liked girls that got out there and did things. I LOVED Nancy Drew. (you can imagine my dismay at the recently released film version, which not only made her too young but seemed to want to add into the mix some crap about the perils of fitting in at school et al, everything that ND wouldn’t have given a rats ass about). Nancy was bad ass. If something happened she got in there to figure it out and by any means necessary. She was also a stylish teenager- early 20’s gal with a sweet due and an even sweeter ride (I should mention I was an avid reader of the early original Nancy Drew. They were re-done in the 70’s I believe, to modernize them, but for me early Nancy is the only Nancy). Needless to say, these childhood fantasy preferences seemed to have had a residual effect in my adult life, but on this day, and I sat feeling the warmth of relief, I could at least understand it a little.

And speaking of women who sit around and wait for things to happen: Sarah Palin. Oh she’s done it this time. I was cruising around on the net when I was led to an article at that discussed Palins unofficial endorsement of victim funded rape exams. Basically, to summarize very briefly, while she was a governor in Alaska, the state had issues, due in large part to aforementioned town, passing legislation regarding rape exams. Her town was one that required a rape victim to pay for her exam. Just hearing it took me aback a little. Now the article did its best to be fair and say she had not made specific rulings on this issue. However, the miscellaneous fund that these exam costs had been previously taken from was reduced, the man that orchestrated it fired, and issues with legislation hindered by this town. Now as a women I can’t even fathom this for two reasons:

  1. Sarah Palin, you know Sarah as in proud owner of a vagina, choose in her term to, at the very least, ignore this issue that is pretty high up on a women’s rights agenda. Next, women don’t need a right to choose just cause it’s our body. Women don’t need to vote, they need to take the kids to hockey practice.
  2. Even if she hadn’t deliberately orchestrated this, or supported this, how could she just let it ride? Who in her campaign think tank thought that would be a good issue to ignore? Let’s face facts: assuming all moral issues (enough women don’t report rape cases due to the invasive nature of them as is, let alone if they had to pay for the exam), and there are considerable, as well as economic (sorry due to the millions without health insurance rape is only a charge that rich people can afford) let’s remember that men don’t always support women in position of power. And to be fair some women don’t always trust members of opposite genders to represent their needs, though I am excluding for the sake of time all of those men who would rather see Palin in a kitchen then an office. And since she has already natural and maybe undefeatable male resistance, she is also shunning an issue paramount to women and their rights. Is she a nimrod? Is this bitch fucking retarded (that is a proper use but that’s a different blog for a different day)?

Now I’m not delving complete into this. We could be here for days. And I’m in too delirious a mood to ruin it by thinking about this women and her idiocy. So I’ll sum up:

  1. Nancy Drew kicks ass, and I want to be her
  2. regardless of this, an occasional rescue by a knight in shinning armor doesn’t suck
  3. Palin is a terrible person (added to my list, right under Chenney, that remind me evil is real and that prayer is necessary)
  4. If you’re a woman that gets in that booth a votes for her, I hope you get raped and have no insurance to pay for the exam that will facilitate any manner of legislation on your behalf. And while you’re at it, if you get shot, I hope they have to take money out of your estate for ballistics. And when the cops come to interview your mourning family, they also have to make them a sandwich. Government money doesn’t grow on trees you know
  5. I didn’t mean any of that. I hope no one gets raped. That’s awful. I’m just angry
  6. Instead write a letter to Mrs. Palin and say “do you know what the difference is between a hockey mom and a pit bull? Who cares I can rape poor people”
  7. Don’t be a fool, stay in school. And get someone else to pay for it

Monday, September 22, 2008


"Our love...and I mean this in a nice like taking Lassie to the dessert, removing her teeth with a hunting knife; and shooting her in the head with a gun that you and she made together"

and on that love front I may have to take some time in the near future to report on shopping as a couple, and how it seems to represent an ultimate token of love and devotion.

ew updates:

my landlady’s cat is chilling on my bed and I’m a little disturbed.

I have made it through my first official month of law school and I still stand.

I see death cab in a few weeks. Am so excited

Ok all of this “news” aside, I have to talk about the most fantastic thing that I received in the mail. Martin and Osa sends me coupons and the like in the mail. Well when I sorted through it on Saturday I came across a little envelope that seemed a little thicker then usual. And this was because within the package was a stack of what are in essence………fashion flash cards. They have pictures of two well dressed models on the front, with information on the outfits they sport on the back. I have to say…..amazing. there is no better way to advertise. I’m so smitten with them that they have not yet left my handbag. I mean really. Who thought of this? It’s amazing. Pocket guides to fashion, a way to quiz yourself. I love the idea. Between this and the option on their website that allows you to dress a mannequin, as well as shop by entire outfit, Martin and Osa may be the most progressively fantastic marketing retailer ever. I’m sold. Keep up the good work, and I’ll cross my fingers for a attempt at marketing short fiction, martin and Osa poetry, perhaps martin and Osa paper dolls. Keep me guessing and as soon as I’m a women of means again (may be at least 3 years) then I will again be a dedicated shopper.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

what I'm hearing

So I see it in your eyes
There is a burden you cannot hide
But in their arms you feel so alive
And in a moment you're cast aside

All lines are broken
And we need you to hold on
Your eyes have opened
But you've got to go on
I'll comfort you, I'll stay with you
It's a promise not forgotten

Now I hear you in my mind
There is a story you bring to life
And I will bow gently by your feet
But tread softly, you tread on my dreams

All lines are broken
And we need you to hold on
Your eyes have opened
But you've got to go on
I'll comfort you, I'll stay with you
It's a promise not forgotten

You're crying all these tears
But they mean to leave you dry
You're still fighting all these years
By the same old things we wished we never had

Vision softly fades
But there's a light that still remains
And in these walls I feel your sadness wane
But in the moment you feel no pain

All lines are broken
And we need you to hold on
Your eyes have opened
But you've got to go on
I'll comfort you, I'll sing to you
It's a promise not forgotten

Come on baby, let's fight the sunlight
Come on baby, let's light the night


Clive Owen,

Yes I could write about “fictional reality” as I said I might

I could write about school


Lack of



Plank grilled fish

The gym

How my roommate goes to the gym everyday

How Chris does too

How it’s ok for Chris and no one else

Clive doesn’t

His eyes

His face

His manicured facial scruff

He looks better with it

Like he didn’t care to let it graffiti his face

Like rust

Like chipping paint

Inadvertently adding to his appeal

I read an article


About the significance of a mans celebrity crushes

And what it says about them

Scarlet- good taste

Michelle- mature taste

Brittany- troubled ladies in despair.

What does Clive say about me?

The restraining order is still in place?

I did think that

When I saw “other Boleyn girl”

That there are two types of people:




I think I’m a Native

But I have outside sources to the contrary

I may not sleep thinking about it

I don’t want to be a Scarlet

Clive loves Natalie’s

You can tell

I love Natalie

I love blogs

I love pickles, world peace, firefly, firefly’s, trees, fall, apples, coffee, starbucks, boots, books, boobs

I hate people with boobs, Palin, eggplants, ashtrays, spiders and snakes

I love a man to have charm, and a suit, cut hair, table manners, grace, direction, digestion, distraction, disposition, distention

I love mustaches, car knowledge and button downs

I love Clive

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Eat my shit David Yurman

I was, before my days as a student of law, employed by a jeweler. And long story short, while I was there I established, with my boss’s daughter a tiny design project, which he sells in his store. Well she notified me the other day that yet another one of my pieces had sold. Rather, another one of my Capri necklaces had sold. And now I wonder about the power of marketing. You see, the only reason it is called a Capri necklace, is because the colors of the Swarovski crystal beads in it are called Capri blue. Now the decision to name it as such has two factors:

1. I love Italy. I’ve to this day never been out of the country, and my first choice, if I could go anywhere would be Italy, no contest. In fact, I have the dream of some day touring the whole county, stopping in Venice, Florence, Rome (to get my catholic on, a adventure that was more exciting for me a few years ago when pope John was alive. Everyone loves a Polish pope, and for lack of more eloquent terminology: fucker held it down. In terms of humanitarianism and as a model for good Catholics, or even Christians everywhere, he is unrivaled in my mind) Milan (Fashion!!) and finally Capri, which has to be the most picturesque area I have ever seen documented on film. So much so I may never want to leave. And I want to do it right. Have a substantial budget to work off of, and resume until then my Italian studies so I can fully enjoy the culture and not just be one of those Americans that figures every country should know English but that everyone in America should speak it too as a form of acclimation. (This train of logic has been prevalent in our homeland for the past few years…ex: the twin towers have been bombed, possibly by a terrorist group based in Afghanistan….lets declare war on Iraq)

2. My boss seemed to be a one man militia against my name choices. Ex: my ruby red grapefruit colored bracelet was, I thought quite cleverly titled “Ruby” a nickname of sorts for its full name “Ruby don’t take you love to town”. I thought it was cleaver. And frankly if he was expecting something conformist he should have taken a good look at the creator. I mean really. Something nice and normal? How would I sleep at night? So he responded by changing them to Blue and Pink. This was only for inventor purposes but I want having it. So Ruby is now Ruby Red Grapefruit, and Lady Sings the Blues Bracelet (you’d buy it….it was a great name) became Capri.

But this leads me to my original thought. I wonder how much of the bracelet and necklaces success stems from the implication of the name. I mean the color of he chrystals is stunning. Like stop traffic stunning. I wore it on loan to a gallery opening one night and literally had people stopping me to ask about it. But somewhere in its name, and corresponding color, I suppose is some essence of escape, like your wearing a piece of a tropical paradise. I don’t know if this is true but its fun to think about

On that topic, had talk about the concept of “fictional reality” as the result of shows like the hills which are reality shows, but staged and scripted. Being biomedical engineer and therefore prone to “logic” didn’t want to delve with me because it was an oxymoron. And while I am aware of this, you can’t argue that there is now in out popular culture a such thing, and its kindof fun to think about. Maybe more on that later

Monday, September 15, 2008

Keeping Trim on the Hills

So I was online trying my best to avoid work of any kind, when I can across one of those little advertisements that appear on the margin of facebook that said “how did Lauren Conrad lose the weight and keep it off…The Hills diet”. Ok A. when did this Lauren character have weight to begin with. I thought one of the pre-requisites of being on this “reality” show involved having drama without any real world implications, ie being overweight, being broke, not having a job. You know all of those things reality shows try so desperately to convince us don’t exist. Rich girls don’t have your problems; they just have deep discussions about flawed friendships, and unrequited love in perfectly cut scenes, scored with top forty pop and staggeringly limited dialogue. B. even if we ignore this first presupposition, then I think it’s suffice to say that the “secret” to any wealthy teenagers weight lose, or stick-figure frame is simply that they can afford fruits and veggies. When I was an undergrad, I participated in this study of attempting to live off of a welfare budget. You know this type of experiment; teach the rich college kids how the other half lives, as if majority of the class wasn’t living off student loans and ramen already. And while I participated with every intention of “getting something out of it” it was pretty pointless. Our professor gave us daily accounts of how she factored her daily expenditures. You know if you divide the cup of oatmeal she took out of her bulk bin by the total amount and add the teaspoon of maple syrup in exact $ amount, etc etc, you not only realize that your breakfast costs a mere dollar or two, but you also completely miss the point and make nothing more then a mockery of the true nature of the experiment. See the point of this isn’t to calculate the exact cost of your meals (All that will do is make a stronger case for not eating out), its about knowing the fear and horror of walking into a grocery store, with a welfare check and having to realize that it is next to impossible to feed yourself or your family for the next week with the sad amount in your hands. And furthermore, this is also supposed to prove, which to anyone who has every even glanced at any manner of feminist, progressive, socially related, or economic material like myself already knows, is that “fat” foods are cheap foods and skinny has replaced portly as a symbol of financial power. Simply put, the fruits and veggies and non-processed foods are really only realistic on a daily basis for people with more financial income. And that brings us back to C. The Hills is fake. Anyone who has ever left their home knows this. And while I am already upset with the show for its (and this offends the English major part of me) poorly written dialogue as well as its supposing that the youth of America are border-line vegetative, but this is a final straw. Dieting as a marketing ploy. Is nothing sacred to you people! The world of television marketing tie in’s has finally crossed the line.

So lets summarize what we’ve learned today:

  1. According to MTV, real girls don’t have fat (or pimples or financial troubles)
  2. Fat is just for poor people, we now understand (my college building cultures of peace class was a nimrod and) that skinny is the new fat in terms of social markers
  3. The Hills is fake, and MTV thinks your dumb enough not to notice
  4. Soon babies will be born with advertising logos
  5. People who read feminist literature cannot even find joy in facebook without getting pissed about something
  6. If thinking about The Hills doesn’t make you want to kill yourself, or weep for the future of mankind, keep an eye out for the next open casting call.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Dramatic boot entrances

Oh fall. As I walked through our gorgeous campus with 18 tons of books on my shoulder I couldn’t help but rejoice at the fall weather. With ample pleasure, I’ll pull my jackets, and scarves from their sad summer homes, air them out in the crisp September air, and wear them with the pride of new mother. I love fall. Its almost unhealthy. And as if by some divine doctrine, pumpkin spice lattes are back at Starbucks. I think this is a good time to unveil my brown leather boots.

Anecdote about the boots:

One moderately temperate day, I was taking a break from work. I had a blue full knee length skirt, with a white shirt on, as well as my yellow calf length jacket, open in weather, scarf, unlooped, with the boots. The whole ensemble had a lot of movement. My jacket tails and scarf swung in the wind. And in this lovely free moving outfit I walked into a Starbucks, past one of their dedicated staff, restocking one of the kiosks in the entrance way, ordered my beverage, and turned to go. And no sooner had I turned around did this aforementioned employee say to me “oh my god. I love your boots! When you walked in it was sooo dramatic!!”

What a feeling. You know those parts of films where an important secondary character enters for the first time into the audience’s field of consciousness. There is usually some dramatic music, slow motion, wind machine, maybe lamenting inner monologue. That’s how I felt. Muse played in the back ground, someone made some remark about me, good bad or otherwise, wind machine tossed my green scarf in any which way. Yeah it’s pretty good.

Aside: boots will make their debut this season this weekend as I order a pumpkin spice latte, soy, with caramel sauce.

Yeah it’s dramatic

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Palin….I can’t believe it’s not Clinton

I am sick. How awful. It’s my third week of law school and I sound like a sniffling Kathleen Turner. I can’t focus on my work and everything, including strawberry kiwi Snapple, by far the most delectable flavor, taste like ass.

However, I am consoled by the distinctively fall feeling that was in the air today. I love fall. Maybe it’s a New England thing, but I couldn’t live without fall. It’s the most pleasant weather, most beautiful in terms of foliage, you get fresh apples. Oh and the clothing. As far as dressing is concerned, fall is my favorite. I am now eagerly awaiting whipping out the boots, blazers, scarves, wool and other assorted fall trappings.

The only thing I’m not looking forward to is election time. I can’t help but feel like, despite the past 8 years of declining economy, war, and general political unrest, mixed with atrocious forgiven policy and a torture loving “war on terror”, Americans will still refuses to do what’s right for them. And an aside, I have to note that I’m especially disgusted with Palin. I can hear the arguments for her from here to Sunday, but still I can’t shake the notion that her appointment as VP candidate seems to be an effort on the part of the Republican Party to pick up the vote of those still upset over Obama’s victory over Hilary. I loved Hilary. She had my complete and undying support. And as upset as I was at her lose, and however much that upset manifested itself in snide comments about Obama, I would love to know what self respecting person would honestly think that Palin makes an adequate replacement. And while most of the republicans I know like to argue that she wasn’t chosen to pick up the “scorned Hilary” vote, I can’t fathom a reason to choose her otherwise. As a politician she seems tragically sub-par, especially when you consider the negative press the Republican Party has garnered over the past 8 years. They need someone who really demonstrates the promise of a better administration, and I just don’t get that from her. So why choose her if not to get people like me to vote republican, because as far as I can see her only true qualification is that she is the least offensive female in the Republican Party? And what runs through the republican’s minds if they think someone as hum-drum as that is ever in our minds going to replace Clinton. If there were ever anyone to respect in politics it’s her. All business all the time, with a mindful eye to our people and their concerns. I know a lot of people don’t like Hilary, as they don’t any women who is a position of power (not to sound like a militant feminist but judging by the men and few women who share this view, the argument is hard to refute, I’m sorry to say). Though my favorite response from Hilary detractors has for the past few months been “if we have Hilary it’ll just be like having bill all over again”

A great economy and good foreign relations!! Oh my god NO!!!

Republican party, I am insulted that you think so little of my political choices to think that any vagina in the place of Clinton will suffice. Let’s just hope the rest of my party feels the same. But I’m sure they will. It reminds me of a discussion I had with an especially adorably naive young republican.

“Alex how could you be a liberal”

“Easy. I have an education”