I screwed up and have tickets for two different concerts on the same night.  damien rice vs. animal collective.  crap.

this morning I checked myself on the autism spectrum.  I feel safe in declaring that I am not autistic, which is a good thing because I would have one of two reactions:

1) feel oddly special about having autism and then self-hate for using autism as a means to buoy my confidence.
2) rehash my entire life up to this moment to determine if past ( Read more... )

I cried.  A lot.

what with all the spoilers and leaks from harry potter lurking about, the internet is now my enemy.  I approach it with fear and suspicion.

I have broken out in hives all over my neck.  having determined that it is not an allergic reaction to my haircut on saturday, I am attributing this to HP anxiety.

I'm seeing Morrissey in two and a half hours.  rather than being excited, I'm deadly nervous.  what if he's terrible?  I feel poised on the brink of destroying my own hero.

however, if he's amazing, I suspect that I'll cry.  is that actually any better?

I've been reading barbara kingsolver's, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and - while I have yet to finish it - am already fully prepared to force this book  upon everyone who cares about food and/or food politics.  it is smart and charming and has amazing recipes that get me really excited for this summer's vegetable crop.  yesterday, while reading on my ( Read more... )

why, hello there ( Read more... )

in the bathroom, I look over at the feet in the stall next to mine.  "do you think she can tell I had asparagus for lunch?..." I wonder.

there is an article in today's nytimes style section about men who get rejected by their dates because their apartments are found to be unacceptable.  one example is of a man who has not changed his apartment at all since 1973.  there is picture of him next to his bed with the caption, " Albert Podell said his sheets had sabotaged at least one ( Read more... )

I just spent 20 minutes trying to record a voice mail message that did not sound like a phone sex operator.  eventually, I gave up.  step one is admitting you have a problem, right ( Read more... )