i want to move to Vermont so that I can vote for Senator Patrick Leahy.

That's a respectable, pseudo-intellectual reason to move, rt?

I don't care what my dentist says- i can feel my back molar breaking through the skin.

this might just be the constant mastication of gum talking, tho.

Sometimes when I'm doing work or working out or just trying to be mindless, I listen to the same sng like a bjillion times in a row. Usually it has no words and is rather jazzy or latin, like Dave Brubeck or Tito Puente, so I can just hear the bass line repeat forever or listen to the improvisation until it becomes completely rote. yay for rote!

when i was in the magical philosophy class (the class of joe and self reliance), Freud ruined my repetitive ways for me for about 2 weeks by saying that the urge to repeat is regressive and i obviously just want to climb back into the womb or the primordial ooze and lose my cellular composition. But I say that Freud put some of his patients on coke (the illegal kind of coke) (tho after seeing what coke does to a nail in a week, don't you think coke should be illegal too?) (but not diet coke- the bubbly balm of my soul) to make them feel happier, so really, should we let him deny me my simple pleasures?

the answer is "Never!" Also, Freud was a total crap dad and tried to discourage Jung from publishing his own scholarship. But he did have a nifty collection of African artifacts and a great beard. And a grandchild who painted a slightly unflattering but very interesting picture of QE2.

Golf!

i know that the entry is not drawn about golf, but I've decided (and Jace has confirmed) that this is how I play golf. See the madness and the glee and the utter disregard for physical safety?


Actually, that's the way I play all sports. Which may account for my oft-broken limbs.

check out her other drawings- they are most fabulous.

So I'm writing my Feminist Legal Theory (i.e. Women Get Screwed Over Hardcore) paper about menopause and I'm reading what the FDA and drug company send to the doctors and what they send to the female patients about this drug that will cure your night sweats, but then will cause you to have a stroke or breast cancer or something equally fun and life-threatening. The difference between the two messages is a chasm- the doctors get stuff that says "Only use the medication if it is absolutely necessary then take the women off it right as soon as you can" and the women are told "o, you'll be fine, don't worry your pretty little head. At one point, while reading a lay-woman Q&A just after reading a NEw England Journal of Medicine article, I was like "this is So Patronizing."


And then I thought it was funny that the only word I could think of to describe the way that the drug company was glossing over the truth to stop a justified panic describes the way that men have been oppressing women for centuries. This class is reawakening my inner pissed-off hairy-legged woman.

Random thought while researching my paper and reading random footnotes:

"Well... thanks, Leviticus. I bet you were always daisy fresh."

one difference between undergrad and law school:
if in undergrad, I had started writing a paper the week before it was due, I would be so far ahead of the game that i would be invisible to those people playing the game. Now, even though it's a draft and I've done lots of research, I feel like I've shanked myself, prison style.


sing-sing 2k5, y'all.

also? someone send me the link to the funny shining trailer pleese. I just can't find the one with the peter gabriel song that everyone keeps referencing.


there are pigeons roosting outside my creepy window and a bit outside my orchid window as well. they've pooped all over the house next door and occasionally get stuck in the gutter (there is much scraping and flapping of wings), but I don't know how I would get them to leave. Also, the cooing is very relaxing at night. And it's not like I open the creepy window ever (it's the creepy window, folks).* Did you know that pigeons and doves are the same bird (somehow)? I can't scientifically back that up with a link (because i'm supposed to be writing my paper) but more than one person has told me that.


* the story of the creepy window (in case you don't know it): Ft. Awesome's living room/foyer has a window just like every Ft Awesome room (here at Ft Awesome, we wouldn't have it any other way). When I initially toured Ft. Awesome, the former residents had their couch pushed against that wall and the curtain drawn, so I didn't look out. Then when I first entered an empty Ft. Awesome, that was the only window with the shade drawn and I didn't pay it any mind. Finally, my first night of sleeping at Ft. Awesome, I pull up the shade to find the creepiest little attic window of the house next door not two feet from my face. It's like the window that the chick in (spoiler alert!) the Ring would come out of if there were no such things as TVs. That was a bad analogy, but live with it. I freaked a little (squealed like the young girl that I was once, then dropped the blind with a resounding crash, then called my mom) and then resolved not to look out the creepy window again. To this day, it is the only window in Ft. Awesome with curtains as well as a shade and a chair keeping those curtains closed. And a working lock.

My Crazy Life, or How I Stayed Up til 5am Without a Drop of Alcohol or Human Interaction.

Three cups of coffee. At Noon. What would it do to you? To the delicate system of Julia, it's like Liquid Awake. Sunshine in a Cup. Up and At 'Em for the Better Part of 24 Hours Juice.*


Around 9, I'm having some nice alone cleany time (a lil vacuuming, a lil mail sorting) and I think "Hey, I'll start watching the Undeclared Box Set because It's 9 and nothing is good is on." Then next when I look at the clock, it's like 11:30, so I think "Well, I'll watch one more episode then hit the hay."


Next time I look at the clock, It's 3am.

Now gentle reader, you may be thinking "It was Thursday and what are you- 24? You should be staying up til 3 on a daily basis and 4 on Thursdays and not sleeping at all during the weekends! Suck it up, creampuff!" First, I'd have to revise your name- that's not very gentle at all. Second, I'm a creampuff, I am. When it's hay-hittin time, I hit it fast and hard. If you talk to me when I'm on the verge of sleep, I will have thoughts about hurting you. If you talk for more than a minute, I consider it perfectly polite to fall asleep on your garrulous ass. Then when it's time to wake up in the morning, I hit the snooze button for a half hour at the very least. I love sleep, sleep loves me, I'd marry Sleep and we'd have tiny narcoleptic children if it were possible. But it just wasn't happening last night.


Luckily, Guy Downstairs was still awake. Quick sidenote about Guy Downstairs. Apparently, the apartment complex got all new people over the summer and they are fabulous fun. Girls Down the Hall are always traipsing around in tight clothing with cupcakes (ex-sorority girls maybe?), Guy Who Shares the Balcony likes to pee off my side of the balcony (did I write that fun little interlude up? O, it was fun! and an interlude. And I won't comment on the little part, because I had buried my head in the pillow once I heard him unzip his pants) and Guy Downstairs is always having parties on his balcony. I think with grad students, because they all look a little nerdy and one time I heard them discussing Sarte and pronouncing his name all fancy-like. I enjoy the crowd now- everyone's all noisy (tromping around on our wooden floors) and Guy Downstairs apparently stays up late.


Back to the Main Thread: I had a delicate choice on my hands. I wasn't tired, but the dictates of society say that I should wake up at some time the next day. But Guy Downstairs was still awake, and there was more Undeclared to watch, so I put off the decision for a while. That means that I made the decision to stay up, but passively, and in a way that I could possibly blame Seth Rogen** on being so enchanting as to make me stay up later. Naughty naughty Seth Rogen.

I digress. Fast forward, if you will, in the way that a clean-up in an 80's movie would fast forward ("O no! Mom's gonna be home in 14 minutes and there are solo cups and drunken party goers everywhere!") suddenly, it's 4:30. Four Thirty AM. I haven't seen 4:30 since the last time my parents and I had to catch a plane to go on vacation. And that was the other end of 4:30, which is just different. My superego*** put an end to the crazy fun party that was organizing my notes and watching tv on my computer (so it's better, right? I choooose to watch this show without commercials, so it is a better experience than flipping channels forever) and I went to bed. But not to sleep. That happened around 5am.


So if you saw me today and you noticed my bloodshot eyes, that's why. Strangely, I awoke with only 5 hours under my belt and I feel great. What is that? My body is a strange beast. But I'll keep it. For now.



*That's a stretch, I know.
**On the commentary, he wanted to put a running David Mamet joke in an episode. Dood, I had a running David Mamet joke with some English Major friends in college where we'd say (to keep from outwardly cursing) (Mommy, cover your eyes) "As David Mamet would say, 'Fuck you'" Man, that really cracked my shit UP around 2000, 2001. And a little bit today. David Mamet jokes are wholesome good fun.
***I sounded like one of the rowdy grads at Guy Downstairs party right there, eh? Next, I'll break out some Camus and really get the party started! Ooo, I'm a nerd.

While most people in law school are my age (straight outta college), some did the wise thing and took time off between the fabulous joyfest that was undergrad and the drives-you-to-drink slog that is law school. (I kid! I kid!) (well, not really) Anyways, this leads to some amusing exchanges.

Background: Kaity's husband had just finished his surgery rotation (methinks- I might be mixing this up with Grey's Anatomy) and so he wanted to go out drinking, and so she called me (either because Fort Awesome is near the bars, or I'm getting a reputation) and she invited Neal and his wife also to join in the drunkening. What followed was a volley of emails that abruptly ended after the last one...

-----Original Message-----
From: Julia
To: Kaity; Neal
Subject: RE: Drinkfest 2k5!

How would you like to come to Ft Awesome for some pre-drinking food, and then head over to

1) Carlton’s (pretty fancy, yet hurray for supporting new businesses started by UVA alums!)

2) or Three Monkeys (relatively new, possibility of outside seating but loud)

3) or Buddy’s (big booth-y tables, ludicrously loud after 10)

4) or Avalon or Helen’s for quietitude with your alcohol

I should go check out Friday night drink specials. Because it’s not like I have school work or job applications or anything to do.

My priorities are so in line.

~j (hooch commander)

-----Original Message-----
From: Neal
To: Kaity; Julia
Subject: RE: Drinkfest 2k5!

I thought Brian Ferry left Roxy Music. (What's Avalon?)

From: Julia
To: Neal; Kaity
Subject: RE: Drinkfest 2k5!

Avalon is a bar on Main and Mulberry.

And if I can ask without belying my years, who’s Brian Ferry? If I can’t ask without getting razzed, then I totally know who he is.


From: Neal
To: Kaity; Julia
Subject: RE: Drinkfest 2k5!

Brian Ferry was the lead singer for a band called Roxy Music. Roxy Music came out with one of the most fundamental 80’s albums of all time, “Avalon”.

http://www.musictap.net/Reviews/RoxyMusicAvalonSACD.html

I think you were 5.

From: Julia
To: Neal; Kaity
Subject: RE: Drinkfest 2k5!

Since Avalon came out in 1983, I was actually 2.

Yes, I am a spring chicken.

~j

People are always surprised that I'm younger than they are. I think I should start using a more agressive moisturizer.


As additional fun, bone up on your Drunk Terms.

dross 10.4

we've decided: the opposite of baby fever is baby malaise.


update your dictionaries accordingly.


also, is Darnell in My Name Is Earl the same dude who amuses me so from the Office Max Commercials? I love that guy.



Reason Why I Sometimes Want a Roommate #47: So I can ask her such questions as "Do my knees look weird to you? Do they have too much of a profile?"

Reason Why I'm Glad I Don't Have a Roommate #102: Such questions are vain and silly and don't deserve answering. And she would probably want to watch something that conflicts with Lost and that just would not do!

Peevish

I have pet peeves.* I don't think that I have more than the average person, but I could be wrong. After all, I'm slightly neurotic and have a type A personality, so I probably do. So scratch that above sentiment. Anyways, here's one that I discovered whilst my latest useless email pogrom.

Receiving mass emails from an unnamed source who doesn't understand the concept of quotation marks.

For Example: "There is a "blue" toyota corolla in the L lot with its "lights" on."

This sentence reads as if blue or lights were excerpts of someone else's inaccurate speech: the car is actually red and it's not the lights being on but the sunroof being open that is the problem. It's infuriating, right?

Now imagine getting an email that is at least 44k with this information, because the person chose a cloudy-sky background for the html version of his/her message. Like having an overly large vehicle for your purposes and therefore using up more than your fair share of gas, using the stationary version of Outlook email is inconsiderately using up too much inbox space for a 1-line message with inaccurate punctuation. This is not an ecard. No one feels sunshinier because your message is on fluffy little clouds. It would make me happier if you could open up a Strunk and White and learn a little about our good friend Mr. "Quotie." I'm sure he hates your graven idol use of his image.


Now you're thinking "Jeez, Julia, just delete the message and move on with your life. It's not worth this much thought." And I want you people to know that a) all this thought occurs in about 2 seconds and b) I have edited enough of other people's writing in my years as a hs newspaper editor and english major with obsessive friends that I find blatant bad grammar mortally offensive. You have your morals and god/s, I have mine.

Also, it seems to me that this usage started as a pretension or attempt at sophistication. Someone just writing what they were thinking in simple clear english would not use unnecessary quotes. It's like Marilyn Monroe in "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" when someone asks her something and she responds "I?" when it is really better to say "Me?" but it sounds more fancy to use "I." But as GPB is a movie, and therefore supposed to be funny, whereas the mass emails are to a large group of highly educated people and therefore just stupidly pretentious, the funny, it just ain't there.


So if this is you, just stop it. You're a lovely person, but your quotes are pushing me closer to insanity. And not in that good way.



* In fifth grade, my teacher (Mr. Miller) asked us to write a little essay on our pet peeves and 90% of the class turned in a paper about things their pets did. I didn't have a pet, so I had asked my mum what I could write about and she explained the concept of pet peeves, so I was in the 10% that wrote about something that bugged us, but I always remember that as a time when I felt smug when I really shouldn't have. (The reason I know about everyone else's mistake is that we read our papers out loud.)