Like, maybe you could look at this. If you have time in your "busy" schedule, that is.

This website has been cracking me up as of late, if only because the whiteboard on my fridge is filled with passive-aggressive notes daily. I suppose it's inevitable - putting six girls in a house, all of whom have varying definitions of "clean" and "respectful behavior" and "communal living space," all of whom detest confrontation, and it is inevitable that the main means of communication will be handwritten notes berating no one in particular, even though they are very usually directed at one specific individual.

For example, what should my note read today? Today, it will be directed at the roommate who took my last clean bath towel without asking me, because hers were dirty, forcing me to re-use another towel instead of being able to have a nice, clean one when I got out of the shower. Instead of confronting her directly - because I am a girl, because I am non-confrontational, because I am chicken shit - I will probably just write a note on the board: "Hey y'all - if you could just ask people before taking their stuff, that would be great. Okay, love you!"

And then I will go upstairs and punch my pillow until the feathers fly out.

Put. the French. Down.

That I enjoy this so much is proof that I have well and truly gone over the edge at this point, or that I've just spent waaaaay too much time working on my thesis. (Which involves French translation, although, sadly, nothing as delightful to the ears as "Ou est la piscine?")

Nerd Confession #94

I listen to movie scores while I write papers.

My favorites are:

1. Sabrina by John Williams (the Harrison, not the Humphrey)

2. Braveheart by James Horner (except not the battle scene music because it gets a little too intense, but I sure do love me some bagpipes)

3. The Holiday by Hans Zimmer (the one with Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz, it's alternatively peppy and sad and just plain pretty)

4. Titanic by James Horner (I know, you just threw up a little...)

5. Pride and Prejudice by Dario Marianelli (also did the score for Atonement, which I liked, but I can't deal with the constant clicky clack of a typewriter when I'm trying to focus)

6. The Notebook by Aaron Zigman (basically, the playlist should be called Chick Movie Overload)

Also, I may or may not have left my pocket protector in the A/V room, so if anyone's seen it, let me know...

Happy Easter!

Good Lord, I love Peeps.

I don't know why - it's not even as if, when I'm eating one, I think it tastes good. It's the bizarre texture, I think, that speaks to my soul. Or something.

That and anything that triples in size in the microwave is automatically a good time.

More will come soon - right now, sorting out a possible hop across The Pond, a senior thesis, my poor, poor, broken camera (apparently people like to sit on electronic fun-capturing equipment on cruise ships), and various other bits and pieces that make up my mish-mash of a life.

onBeing

Jennifer Crandall, the creator of the Washingtonpost.com's onBeing project, came to talk to one of my journalism classes today.

Just felt the need to share this site with you. The way she captures the rich tapestry of human experience is so moving, and often hilarious.

Crandall told us how she finds her subjects (suggestions from friends and meeting random people on the street), and how she manages to edit 2-hour interviews into 2 1/2 minute segments. She also showed several clips from the site.

I'm not going to lie, the clip of this man made me (somewhat embarrassingly) cry big fat tears in front of my class. If we could all be half as good as him, the world would be a much better place.

Sometimes a "hi" is all it takes.

A friend of a friend went on a date with this man.

Read his newsletter about how to pick up women here.

I feel like there are an infinite number of ways to mock this, but all I can muster is a vague sense of pity. God bless you, sir, but females just aren't that complicated.

Ms. Clinton, I don't want your recipe.

The following is entirely inappropriate, but it makes me pee myself:



More where that came from.

Tip

Hi, happy day after! Just wanted to share that Lush (purveyor of AMAZING handmade bath products) is having a huge sale. Almost everything is buy one get one free - including holiday gift sets, bath bombs, soap, etc., so check it out!

DC Area Locations:

Georgetown

3066 M Street N.W.

(202) 333-6950

Bethesda

Montgomery Mall

7101 Democracy Blvd, Unit 2410

(301) 365-7444

Mama's got a brand new bag

Hi! I changed some things, like the logo up top. I like the little cupcake guy.

Also, I was fully intending to post a recipe I made up for this popcorn mix, but my Dad and I are making lobster bisque (fucking hard and time consuming, by the way), and we were getting stressed out, so we each took a shot of Goldschlager. I have no idea why my parents have that lying around their house, or why I did a shot with my DAD. My parents are the kind that go to bed at 9 p.m., for crying out loud. Regardless, that plus a couple of glasses of wine means that I'm not feeling entirely competent to write up and post a recipe, albeit a simple one.

Check back in a couple of hours.

But, if I don't see you, have a merry merry day-before-Christmas-Eve!

P.S. Sorry for saying "fucking" up there. Don't want to alienate my rather large fan base of 6-year-olds. I apologize. The Demon Rum gives me the mouth of a sailor.

A Million Dollar Idea

http://www.mymilliondollaryear.com

Awesome.

If anyone wants to give me money, I'd be okay with that too.

On being shamelessly materialistic and superficial

I was really productive this weekend. I managed to write three papers and line up the professors I want to write me recommendations. Boo ya.

I was also in a very autumn-y mood. I was all pumpkins, hayrides, sharpened pencils, leaves (which seem to have gone straight to brown this year - where are the reds and yellows?), apples and cinnamon smells. I even baked a very comfort foodish cheeseburger pie (gross in theory, yummy in practice) that perhaps I will share later this week.

To celebrate above mentioned productivity and the onset of autumn, I went shopping. Naturally. After emerging triumphantly from Bath and Body Works clutching my new Harry Slatkin Pumpkin candle, I stopped by the Chanel counter on a whim. Okay, not on a whim. I'd been reading about this new fall shade of nail polish, Tulipe Noire, and wanted to see what the fuss was about. I asked the lady behind the counter (Name: Char, very odd eyebrows 15 shades darker than her bleach blonde pixie cut) if she had any, and she informed me that she only had one bottle left - the one in the display. Which, of course, made it immediately ten times more attractive to me. That and the fact that the color itself is gorgeous - burgundy with gold swirls, very chi-chi looking nail polish. So I sucked it up and spent 20 big ones on a tiny bottle of polish.

Herein lies the gross part: as my dear friend Char was ringing me up, she actually got a phone call from someone inquiring whether she had any Tulipe Noire left. And as Char said, "Sorry, I just pulled the last one and I am selling it to a customer right now," my stomach leapt a little with joy and triumph. I am a sick person.

But I have some pretty hot nail polish, in a deep shade of exclusivity. Shazam.

I've been hiding in a hole of misery and despair since C.J. was kicked off...

Not really. Mmmmk maybe a bit. I apologize for the lack of anything on the blog the past week. Not to make excuses, but to make excuses, it's my last year of school, and what with law school applications, a thesis, etc., my culinary adventures have not gone past deciding whether or not I feel ambitious enough to heat up some jarred tomato sauce to go with the spaghetti I eat on a nightly basis. If not, it's pretty much just a spoonful of Country Crock and that powdery stuff that masquerades as Parmesan cheese. Because I am a disgusting human being. Pretty soon, the pasta is going to run out, and I'll just eat the white rice you boil in a bag, maybe sprinkled with despair and stress.

So, I guess I'm just asking for some slack. I promise I'll be a mildly interesting person again sometime soon.

A girl can dream...

From toothpastefordinner.com.

God Bless U.S. America

I'll be, like, posting something about like, food or something soon. I've started my classes this week where I'm, like learning about places like The Iraq and South Africa.

In the meantime, such as, here's something for you to, like, look at. Which is funny. Such as.

Look at this: Mapsforus.org.

Notes on Top Chef: The result of 1 NesCafé, a large iced coffee, and 4 Diet Cokes, all before noon

As I was rotting my brain in front of the television yesterday (having left work early to admit the plumber to my drainage-challenged house), I had the following thoughts about the cultural phenomenon that's changing the way we live, Top Chef Miami:

1. Bravo is a great television station, for having Top Chef marathons every other day. (The same goes for VH1 and Top Model marathons. Really, stations, are you purposely trying to render me a completely unproductive member of society?)

2. It's pretty sad that I watch marathons of anything, and that watching said marathons is the closet I'll ever get to actually participating in one of any kind.

3. I don't care what my friends say, I do not have a Daddy complex just because I find Chef Tom hot. (Something about his shiny bald head, the way his last name rolls of the tongue - COLICCHIO, Coliiiiiichio - and his ability to cut through contestants' bullshit -"Taking pannacotta and freezing it does not make a semifreddo!"- ugh, gets me every time.)

4. Several things bother me about Padma:
- the scar (I know she got it in some horrible accident and I should be empathetic, but it's just so shiny)
- the fact that she's married to Salman Rushdie (WHAT? he may be a genius, but how the F did that happen?)
- that she is a supermodel-actress-writer-FOOD EXPERT? huh? Plus, her voice just irritates me.

5. I would never eat at a restaurant where Howie worked, as sweat is not an ingredient I enjoy in a meal. The man perspires a bathtub's worth every episode. Why has no one addressed this? They literally show him DRIPPING IN THE FOOD. And his mood swings are those of a 13-year-old girl. ("I hate Joey. I love Joey.") Kick him OFF, already.

6. I have a huge girl crush on Casey. ("No, seriously. Can I be you?")

7. Rocco diSpirito: Major hottie. (Did I just say "hottie?") Major asshole. If Top Chef were high school, he'd be the guy that everyone follows around and wants to be (or bang), but no one actually likes.

I have way too much time on my hands.

I may or may not have licked this to see what it tasted like.

So, I've never been a big fan of hand creams. I hate how they take ages to soak in, how if you meet someone shortly after applying one they think you have heinously sweaty palms, how they get under your fingernails; the list of grievances is long, my friends. That was, until I discovered the mother of all hand creams: J.R. Watkins Apothecary's Lemon Cream Shea Butter. Not only is this generously-sized tub sold at none other than the classiest of locales (i.e. Wal-Mart) for about 5 big ones (or online for $7.99 plus shipping), it absorbs quickly so I can reach out and touch a stranger almost immediately without embarassment, and it smells like lemony cake batter. (But not in the, "Hello, I'm a hooker and I think you'll be attracted to me if I smell of food," Jessica Simpson Dessert Beauty kind of way. Glad we got that cleared up.)

Also, just as a side note, J.R. Watkins is not paying me to wax poetic about his product. I just think the man makes a really good hand cream and felt it was time to spread the love. Plus, that would be a huge waste of his money, as I'm pretty sure about 2 people read this blog, one of which is probably my mom.

Photo credit: watkinsonline.com

The Catholic Guilt Complex

I just ate a Fractured Prune doughnut. At 4:30 in the afternoon. And now I feel very bad about myself. Just thought I'd share. (Although, sweet Jesus are they good.)

Like a chica cherry cola.

I want you.

Photo credit: tiffany.com

Things I Can't Get Over Today: A List

1. The fact that I find myself mildly attracted to Daniel Radcliffe in the latest Harry Potter film. That's slightly creepy - Harry Potter should not be hot.
2. I saw a lone white tennis shoe hanging out in the middle of Canal Road in Georgetown yesterday, and I can't stop thinking about it.
3. My burning desire to make a salad involving any or all of the following: arugula, pine nuts, watermelon, feta.
4. How delicious the Hershey's truffle things are in the communal candy jar at work. I sneak them two at a time when no one's looking, because I feel judged if I take more than one in front of witnesses.
5. My daily existential crisis at my job. As in, why I am here? Do I serve any purpose? The answer I usually come up with is no.
6. My phobia that I'm going to screw up flip cup for my kickball team when we play tonight.
7. How disappointing the chicken fajitas were at Lauriol Plaza last night. Dry as a Mormon prayer meeting. C'mon, guys. You can do better than that.