28 February 2005


S'been an interesting weekend. Over the cold, and singing joyfully as often as possible to prove it. Found a couple great recipes--I'll post them if they turn out.

On the other hand, at work I'm discovering how difficult it is to give people bad news. At work, I have to do this occasionally. It kills me a little to say it, and then I always bend to their pleas (or their parents' pleas, in some cases) to review and appeal their "extra special case." Right. Some excuses I just don't buy.

Inevitably, I'm going to have to stick to my guns on some of them. What a horrible image. I can already see myself shrinking down in passivity, hiding from the phone (which I do anyway.)

And so I end up ranting to a computer screen. How many years do you have to work before you discover where the fine line should be drawn in telling people what you really think?

23 February 2005

Bastard viruses

My little sis called me last night (already a surprise--I think that's the first time she's called me since I moved out of the house in 1997) and said she might come visit this weekend. Then fifteen minutes later her friends came home and said no, they're not going to Kansas anymore so now she isn't coming to visit. I was excited for a moment. And then disappointed. But I was happy 'cause we talked for a long time.

And I have yet another piece of evidence that I am going to turn out exactly like my parents. Exhibit A: I have a cold. Everyone knows that I have a cold, (especially my sinuses) and that I should be at home self-medicating and watching Seinfeld reruns. But I refuse to take anything. In fact, I did not admit to actually having a cold until yesterday. Tough it out! Rely on your own body! Forget modern medicine--warm salt water will take care of it!

Oh, the realization of the inevitable....

21 February 2005

Carmen Sandiego?

Hey, this was fun. Try it out. These are places I've been. (Disregard the whole potential red states/blue states argument!)

create your own visited countries map

create your own visited states map

20 February 2005

Smoke and Leftovers

So the 'rents came and went, and left a bunch of stuff. Well, that's mostly a good thing, because they came to bring me new seating arrangements, plants, and various sundries I had forgotten. We got my futon into proper respectable futon position (instead of saggily leaning against a wall) and we hung my curtains. Now my living room is bathed in a soft parchmenty glow instead of a renter's white.

And since Mom had jokingly said she expected a gourmet meal next time she came, I went all out. Four courses, matched wine, the whole shebang. I pushed my beginners' luck with all new recipes, and the final results were fantastically tasty.

The process, however, was not without peril. Since I had chosen a broiled salmon pesto (recipe here) for the main dish, I knew the inevitable would occur--the smoke alarm.

And let me tell you, this smoke alarm isn't your basic, beep beep, hey, it's kinda hazy in here. I live in a handicapped apartment, so this alarm is the equivalent of a bipolar mother of six toddlers going through a divorce. Sensitive just doesn't describe it. I could light a match and the thing would go off. And you can't just take the batteries out--it's hardwired into the building. Figures. Dad got the job of waving a towel at the thing, and Mom helped by fussing over the dishes.

But dinner was had, dishes were done, and parents left. Now I'm feeling really alone, which is compounded by the daily call to the boyfriend. It's much tougher than I thought, being so far away yet still in the same country.

But that's not what you came here to read about. I'll keep my self-psychiatrizing off this blog.

17 February 2005

Wait, There's More?

And you thought you were getting rid of me. Ha!

My parents are coming on Saturday. I don't have to do the frantic things that most mid-twenties do when their parents come, like last-minute frantic cleaning, or hiding the box of condoms, or making sure to erase all traces of the ten-hour bender last week, but I should probably make it look as though I've been hard at work on my thesis.

Really, I just want this thesis to go away. It's like I'm ten again, and I intercept the letter that says I need a tetanus shot for school, and I hide it at the very bottom of the pile, hoping that if I can keep this show up, eventually the whole messy situation will just disappear. Except now I'm 25, and my mature reasonable id says "It's just 35 pages,"* while my ego whines "But I don't Wanna!"

*I know, 35 pages isn't much, compared to most masters theses. But this is a special one, I promise....

Maybe I'll watch a few episodes of M*A*S*H, to get in the research mood...

16 February 2005

So Many Things Neither Of Us Know

Hello. After weeks and weeks of being alternately inspired and scaredy-cat, I found the no-brainest, free-est and easiest blog platform to host my blogging debut. Here's to wishy-washyness! But then again, I am from St. Louis. As my favorite columnist, Bill McClellan says, we're a bunch of pioneers who were too afraid to go any farther.

There's a lot of things you don't know about me. Hell, there's a a lot of things even my boyfriend doesn't know about me. He only found out yesterday that I play an instrument.

But here are the basics. I imagine that they will come up often in the future.

  1. I am from St. Louis. I know I already said that, but if you know much about the city, you'll know that when I say I went to Webster, I mean (most) of the sous-entendres that go with that.
  2. I'm a Francophile, of the "France is way more complicated than baguettes and wine" school of thought. France is a highly complex country, and so is our relationship with them. Despite all the negative press about America and France, I still love both countries.
  3. I currently live in the Midwest. It's an odd coincidence that I ended up so close to home, me who has traveled so far so long.
  4. I'm a middle child. Mom doesn't believe in all that birth order crizap, but I certainly do.

That's enough for today. Gotta leave some mystery.