Rosie

Rosie is my dog. We got her when I was 10, and she was a wiggly little puppy. She was always so quiet and remarkably calm for a golden retriever. She likes leaning on people as they pet her, and coming up and putting her nose under your hand so you know she wants to be petted. When you come in the door, she makes happy growly sounds and brings you a "baby," usually her stuffed squirrel.

My mom just called and told me that she had bad news, and I immediately knew what it was. Rosie is getting old and sick, and they're going to put her to sleep this week. She has cancer, and is having trouble breathing. They're going to do it tomorrow or the next day. I'm so sad. She's my puppy, and she's not going to be there when I get home.

Twilight: Emotional porn at its finest

Sorry I haven't written in a while. Between work and my obsessive knitting, I haven't had much of a chance to write. But tonight, I just had to get my thoughts out.

The "Twilight" movie is coming out this Friday, and I am beyond excited. I mean, this is a book I can only read alone and for about a half hour at a time, because it gets me too worked up and I have to get up and walk around for a bit. This is a book I have to stop myself from reading at strategic points because if I don't cut myself off, I know I'm going to be up all night. This is a book where I had to put it down to type out this post, because my hands were shaking... you get the idea.

So, established: I think this is a fantastic book, in a completely teenage-girl giggly way. I'm under no illusions that it's the greatest book ever written, but I'm really into it. And I just have to sit here and wonder: WHY? Why does this story have such power over me? How can it reduce me to an emotional puddle? Even though I know it's partially a long pro-abstinence screed, I ignore that because seriously, he's a vampire! If they ever decide to have sex, he could kill her in the heat of passion! DUH! I learned all this long ago from Buffy.

I think it all just comes down to the fact that I'm a hopeless romantic. I love Pride and Prejudice because deep down, I wish a Mr. Darcy (or an Elizabeth Bennet, for that matter) to stroll into my life so we could live happily ever after. In a world where my social awkwardness tends to foil any attempts to "flirt" with people before they begin, I kind of long for an idealized romantic idea of love at first sight.

Maybe I've been conditioned to connect to these stories because this is what "love" is supposed to be like. That you find someone and instantly fall into a passionate, life-changing affair. That compared to this, a normal relationship, with squabbles and silliness, just seems kind of boring. Not to mention the whole fact that you should not have sex, because your otherwise perfect vampire boyfriend will lose control and try to kill you. (Just like in Buffy!)

Or maybe, just maybe, it's just entertainment, and I'm just a raging mass of hormones who's a sucker for vampire fiction. :)

Passive aggressive laundry notes dot com

Today is laundry day. Since moving into my apartment, I love laundry day. The laundry room is big and there are always tons of open washers and it feels good to throw everything in and go upstairs to read Glamour and while away 30 minutes doing nothing in particular.

But when I went down to change my laundry (maybe 20 minutes late after I got distracted by a very nice Glamour article calling for the end of women making bitchy comments about each others' weight), I found a note on top of my washers that said "please don't be inconsiderate, pick up wash when done." Talk about passive aggressive.

Now, after 4 years of college I understand the need for prompt clothing pick-up, and I've always hated going to the laundry room and finding every washer occupied by someone else's finished laundry. This is maybe the latest I have ever been in going to unload the washer, as my time at Grinnell has taught me that if you leave your laundry in a washer for more than 2 seconds after it ends, you will find it sitting in a puddle of detergent on top of the washer.

But seriously, this person has no idea what I was doing or why I was late. I could have been cooking, or making an important phone call, or dead! I could be in a wheelchair and therefore having difficulty moving in and out of my apartment. For all they know, I could have misread the timer, or my watch, and made a perfectly honest mistake. They don't know my perfect history of laundry removal. Really, unless this person was hanging out in the laundry room for 20 minutes watching my washers in particular, they don't actually know how long my laundry was sitting there to begin with. I consider anywhere up to 10 minutes to be a perfectly reasonable buffer time (especially in a laundry room with many open washers), because people do lose track of time. And if you're writing a note because you've been watching someone's clothes sit there for ten minutes, a washer has probably opened up in the meantime and you're just an idiot anyway.

Not to mention that I'm pretty sure there were at least 2 washers open at any one time while I was not in that laundry room. There were at least 7 open when I got there, and maybe 10 or 12 when I left. If you have more than 2 washer loads of laundry, you can't be bitching at other people for taking up too many washers.

So, mysterious note-leaver, I defy your attempts to make me feel guilty for being late. If you can't handle the laundry habits of others, don't use a laundry room that is shared among several hundred people.

Bitch, you don't know my life!

Pancakes to Keep: The Joe Biden Story

So I'm not a big political person. I usually vote Democrat because they most closely align with my views, but I never feel like any politician is a close enough fit for me. And political speeches usually just annoy me.

But goddamn, I love Joe Biden. I think Chris's enthusiasm is infectious. I am not following this election too closely, becausut Biden is just so gosh darn cool. He's one of the few politicians I actually want to hear speak. Everything he says strikes home, and I actually agree with nearly all of it. I like his policies. As Chris said, his brain exploded, and he's still going! He's just an all-around great guy!

I will probably not be watching Obama tomorrow night (mostly due to scheduling conflicts), but I would have been ambivalent about watching him were I at home. But tonight, I looked at my watch, and switched the channel just in time, and caught Biden. And now I will bask in his glory.

Picture courtesy of the lovely Chris Neubert (yes, it is a bizarre inside joke)

Movin' on up

I'm moving my big suitcase into my new Pentagon City apartment tomorrow, which is exciting and kind of scary. I found it through Craigslist, and I'm living with two other 20-something women in the converted living room of a 2 bedroom apartment. I think most of the scary will be trying to get my huge-ass suitcase all the way across town on the Metro. But the room is big and my new roommates are really nice, so excitement outweighs the scary.

I'm pretty psyched. This is my first real apartment, and even though I'm not living in a real room with four walls and a door, I'm living on my own! Shopping for food, paying rent, working 9 to 6 weekdays, and budgeting! Maybe buying myself a bedframe or futon to go with the mattress I'm inheriting (or at least new sheets)!

Deja vu, 日本のスタイアル

I've been living in Washington, D.C. for a little over a week now, and I'm having a pretty good time. The one thing that keeps hitting me, though, is how much DC is like Tokyo. Maybe it's something true of large metropolitan areas, but there are some really striking similarities.

-The Metro. Dang, gotta love efficient mass transportation. Granted, the metro isn't as clean or as ubiquitous as the Tokyo JR train system (you can get almost ANYWHERE on the JR, and the subways cover the rest), but it's less crowded (the Red Line at rush hour doesn't even come close to the Den-en-Toshi sen at 8 pm) and there's twice as much seating. And SmarTrip is SUICA without the penguin on it. Which is kind of too bad, because I love the penguin.

-National capital. Oh government, you are everywhere. Government, and people in suits.

-Humidity. Oh god, today I think sweated more than I have since I left Japan. I'm really surprised not to see more people carrying around handkerchiefs and hand towels to periodically wipe themselves down. I'm having my mom send mine out as soon as possible.

-Cherry blossoms. Won't see this until spring, but I have a feeling more that a few people will be rockin' the hanami (blossom viewing parties).

-People speaking Japanese. Seriously, I walked onto the train the other day and the group next to me was talking about Tokyo. In Japanese. Excitement!

I miss some of the cooler things about Tokyo, like karaoke and the best convenience store food I've ever encountered (they will microwave your chicken nuggets for you, right in the store!). But so far, DC is beating out Tokyo for ease of living. Everyone (or nearly everyone) speaks English, and there is so much more greenery here. When I think of Tokyo, I think of lights and concrete and being squished into the train against dozens of other sweaty people.

DC is classy. It's relaxed, and fun. I like it a lot, despite the lack of nomihodai karaoke (all you can drink and all you can sing), steaming hot Circle-K yakisoba, and tuna mayo onigiri. If DC gets these things (and heck, it might already have them and I just don't know where to look), I will totally be set for life.

Gwen Cooper rocks my socks

So if you know me, you know I love the new series of Doctor Who. I love the Doctor, I love Rose, but most of all, I LOVE Captain Jack Harkness (center in photo). Seriously, how could you not love this handsome, charismatic, pansexual man of the 51st century? So when I found out that he got his own spin-off in the form of Torchwood, I was understandably excited.

The show itself is great. It's sort of "Doctor Who for grown-ups", with much darker plots and themes. But my favorite thing about it is the sexual fluidity and diversity. I have yet to see an American show that's as LGBT friendly as Torchwood (or Doctor Who, to a lesser extent). In the few episodes I have seen so far, main character Gwen makes out with another girl (granted, one possessed by an alien) and Toshiko pursues a relationship with another woman (ok, that one's an alien, too). And Jack, as Toshiko says in the second episode, "will shag anything as long as it's gorgeous."

It's just really refreshing to watch a show that addresses the whole gamut of human sexuality, especially the often neglected bisexual portion of the spectrum. And it's REALLY unusual to see it treated as something normal and not a huge deal. I really wish there was something more like this on American networks.

Plus, everyone is really hot, and they make out with each other often. What's not to love?

Back in business!

Hey all. I'm hoping to start updating this blog more often, so stay tuned for hopefully more content!

And I found myself wondering...

Medora and I went to see the Sex and the City movie Sunday night. I walked out of the theater and just could not figure out what was wrong. And it hit me: It was all wrong. I've been watching season 3, and it reminded me why I like the show. Despite the insane amount of designer clothing and the ridiculous restaurants and the fact that I STILL can't accept the fact that Carrie lives in that apartment while buying way too many expensive shoes and outfits, I enjoyed it. I liked how each episode revolved around one theme, something approached from multiple angles. I loved Carrie's ridiculous outfits and Aiden, and Samantha's crazy sex life, and Miranda's absolute wonderfulness (I admit, big crush there), and I loved to hate Charlotte (and man, do I hate Charlotte).

They tackled ISSUES, and I liked that, even if it were in a way that I didn't agree with. Like the episode where Carrie is dating the bisexual guy, and the girls have this discussion and say stuff along the lines that "bisexuality doesn't exist, it not a sexual orientation it's just being greedy, etc." And of course, that was NOT cool with me, but I was at least appreciative that in the end, Carrie kissed a girl (Alanis Morrisette, no less) and made a rational decision that it was not for her, and she was not okay with dating a bisexual man. The series presented complex emotional problems and responses and storylines that stretched for months or years.

Not to mention the sheer joy of watching four young(ish), single (mostly) women living independently in a big city, with their own apartments, jobs, friends, lives, with a quest for love but not necessarily a NEED for it. I know that I'll probably never have the money to live anything like that, but the thought of having a life in a big city with friends and fun and a job and trivial little problems that have nothing to do with living in the dorms.

And I did not find that in the movie. Everything just felt forced. There were complex emotional situations that I felt fell flat (how's that for alliteration). I LOVE Miranda, and I found her annoying and mean. And Carrie too, and Samantha was really not doing anything fun. And Charlotte might as well not have existed. Everyone seemed... old. Just old. I couldn't connect to them anymore. And for some reason, it made me so sad.

The Joys of Pantless Freelancing

This summer, I am doing freelance input/editing. Now, when I first took this job, I envisioned a wonderland, where I could move about the city, editing wherever I wanted. Spending the day doing actual WORK in Mars Cafe or Starbucks, listening to music while sipping decaf and feeling all grown up. Most importantly, I would be free to lounge around the house in whatever I felt most comfortable in. Which, for me, means no pants. Not necessarily bottomless, but in sweats, a skirt, whatever. But no pants.

And then, reality. Instead of editing, I'm doing data input. Instead of my carefree joyful world of coffee shops and pretty coffee cups and low-key folk rock, I get to sit in my hard wooden kitchen booth calling multiple restaurants and bars for hours on end. Needless to say, this was a little disappointing. I hate making phone calls, and I HATE being trapped at home for hours on end calling manager after manager so I can ask them if their restaurant has a party room.

I'm into my third week, and have come to several important conclusions. The first, is that no job is as bad as you think it is. Sure, this sucks, but there are upsides. Sometimes, I get to call hilarious places. Like that one topless bar on the Northeast side. Sometimes, the owner is really nice to me, and tells me to come by sometime and they'll buy me a drink (which I cannot take advantage of, but which I appreciate all the same).

Most of all, though, freelance has made me realize that I need to get a different job. Some people can turn freelancing into a successful business and find fulfillment in being their own boss. I, however, am not one of these people. I like talking to people. I like leaving my home. However, I also enjoy not wearing pants. This is the conundrum: my dislike of being stuck at home combined with my love of not having to wear confining garments. I'll have to figure this out somehow. But at least I have the whole summer.