Today I learned a very important, very valuable lesson

Even if you cover your smoke detector with a plastic bag (WHAT!) it will still go off in the case of a real smoke problem. The more you know!

Fail!

I've been trying to elucidate thoughts on things lately and it hasn't been working. The debt crisis, ice cream, dreams, boys, life - I could be very wise, I swear, but apparently just not today.

Or ever, whateeeeeeeeeeeeeevs.

So instead I would like to talk bluntly about my inability to move my freaking hips. Last night I went to a zumba class with Anna and was reminded how terrible I am at any sort of latin dancing. I put this down to my level of whiteness (high) but unfortunately, my freaking sister is like a meringue queen (or at least she was that one time in the Dominican Republic during some poolside class. That counts, right?). So clearly there's something else at work here. I've come up with some options:

• Body chubb getting in the way. 
• Massive self consciousness.
• Neurons firing the wrong way.
• Not enough poolside lessons.
• Thinking too much about it.

I'll concede that some of these seem to be, you know, very similar, but I would disagree. Thinking too much might sound like massive self consciousness, but really it's not. Self consciousness is going "shit I look terrible, shit I look terrible" while thinking too much is "ok, her left food is angled at 45 degrees but mine is only at 40. Fuck!".

Yeah. I do both.

I also would think that lessons might help (I put an enormous amount of faith in doctors and education. I probably trust both too much, but c'est la viiiiie. Until it's la moooooooooorte because you got some shitty doctor and listened to them. Ok that crossed the line on morbidity, I agree), but when I have tried with good friends to get them to teach me to hip dance in any way shape or form, it is not pretty.

Simply put, my hips lie.

As for the body chubb, this has always been a problem (even when I was teeny tiny) so I doubt that's THAT large of a factor. So I'm left mostly with the thinking stuff, which leads me to believe that it is a neurons thing.

Because I'm smart like that and clearly know what I'm talking about.

But honestly, maybe it's my brain that's screwing me over here! It's trying to be all cool and shit, but like one of those try-too-hard kids in 80s movies, it over does it or plain fails. My brain is telling my hips "to the left to the left - see? I know Beyonce!" when that isn't an option because we're pelvic thrusting to Shakira, and all of a sudden I'm on my ass and the preps are looking down at me and laughing.

Or some shit like that.

I'm putting it out to the blogosphere - how do all y'all get your hips to do the things you do? Is there a youtube video I can watch? Do I just need to get so plastered that the neurons cease to fire? Or you know, should I just stop trying and admit my whiteness is more suited to MTV exercise videos? Help!

To Bar Examinees:

My thoughts are with you! YOU ARE THE BEST ATTORNEY SITTING IN THAT ROOM. Kick ass.

I'll be back tomorrow, for now, all my thoughts are concentrated on passing scores for my law school grad friends!!

People Who Rock. People Who Suck.

This really isn't "people" is it? It's more like "nouns" that suck and "nouns" that rock. People sounds better though so whaaaaaaaaatevaaaaaah.

People Who Rock:

1. DailyMile.com - have you guys used it? It's AMAZING. So are Caroline, Chelsea, Joey, Maria and Ramona for keeping tabs on me (on it);
2. The NYT's Lede blog. I'm really impressed with their ability to switch between the Murdochs, the protests in Syria, human rights abuses in the West Bank and now, Norway - all while keeping me hooked because the quality of coverage is excellent. In other news, I pretty much just love the NYT;
3. The dude who invented air conditioning. Grad School Ex says that he (the inventor) should receive a Nobel Peace Prize, and on days like today I agree;
4. My abfave former prof from grad school - you know who you are;
5. Derek Jeter. Love him. Just in case you were wondering;
6. You guys for still reading after the epic HP post; and
7. THE WOMEN'S WORLD CUP TEAM! I LOVE YOU ALL AND AM GOING TO CANADA IN 2015!!!!!

People Who Suck:

1. The douchebags who blew up a building (and tourists) in Oslo; the motherfucker who posed as a cop to shoot up kids on a Norwegian island;
2. Ruperty Smurpety;
3. In less serious news, my blue sports bra - wtf! We've been friends for how long and suddenly you decide that TODAY you're going to slice into my shoulder? OW. Also - how to make it stop? Anyone? Bueller?;
4. The weather gods. People who don't believe in climate change. Congressional leaders who won't fund attempts at scaling back climate change. Anyone who in any way can be held responsible for a heat index of 120 degrees in Washington, DC;
5. Chris Christie. Either until he stops hating on cops and teachers (the very people who you know, MAKE SOCIETY RUN IN A CIVIL WAY), he is number five on the people who suck list. Because he sucks, times five. Just cause he isn't playing a role in the shutdown doesn't change this, at all;
6. My company for not giving me my expense check yet. "I want my money!!!!!!!"; and
7. The jerky mcjerkersons out there (one in particular) who drive around blithely in their multiple ton vehicles and don't realize that one false step can seriously injure pedestrians and bikes. In the case I am thinking of, that didn't happen, but unfortunately it does EVERY DAY. I'm not saying that the driver is always at fault, however, in a collision between a BMX and BMW, guess who walks away.

Boys are Brainless. Girls are Gullible.

CAUTION: mass generalizations ahead.

I was talking to Becca the other day about her lovely fiance's bff, who is also lovely, if you find AWESOMENESS lovely. Seriously, he's funny, he likes good music, he's a good dancer, and he's nice.

In other words, he's a catch.

However, until recently he was off the market, much to the chagrin of Brooklyn girls en masse, and also, Becca/her fiance. To be clear, this isn't because Becca and Mr. Becca (I think I have a name for him, but I'm too lazy to find it) wanted to have a ménage à trois avec lui (which by the way, always sounds like I'm saying "with my friend Louis" to me) but because the reason he was off the market SUCKED.

Well. The person who you know. Was. Dating him? You got it.

I think I only met her once (if that?) and so you'll have to take Becca's word on it, but her word is not only quite good, but also - the stories. Oh the stories. I don't want to tell them on this space, because it's sort of irrelevant to my central point (I'm getting there, I'm getting there) AND it is too funny to be shared with the public in the fear that it would get back to that chick. Suffice to say, she is at best a youngish girl, newish to the city, very pretty and looking to maybe settle down and be preggo by the time she's 27 and decided that BFBFF (Becca's Fiance's BFF) was a nice little meal ticket to ride because he's cute etc etc (see above: catch). At WORST she is a certified idiot, and one of those sad girls who decides that because they have a man RIGHT NOW they are going to claw into him and try to change him into the guy they want him to be, rather than the very very cool dude he already is.

Ok. Scene is set.

A few months ago, to the joy of Becca, her fiance, girls in Brooklyn and really, humans EVERYWHERE, they broke up. It had been a long time coming, but because BFBFF is a man, and he enjoyed easily accessible sex, it lasted than it should have. Eventually however, he grew some balls, cut her off, and that was the end of that.

Or so humans everywhere thought.

Except, crazy lady crawled back in. Becca was telling me some story about her weekend and mentioned that crazy lady had been there and I was all WAIT WHAT?! And she was like "oh yeah. They're having post breakup sex. A lot of it" and some other choice words that I shall leave out for reasons mentioned above. As we started talking, it became increasingly clear that crazy lady is doing That Thing That Girls Do when they want a guy to get back together with them.

In two words: blow jobs.

Lots of them. Loads, really. And all the other stuff these girls (I say these as though I haven't been one of them. But that is false) wouldn't do when they were ACTUALLY in the relationship with you (because apparently everything is about to be in the second person). And the sex - it's not perfunctory like it was when the two of you weren't getting along but you still were clinging to the chance that you might again. It's HOT! Because it's illicit! And because these girls really really really want you to come back, so they work extra super duper hard.

Or fake it. But shhhh no baby it's totally real, I've never felt so good.

And so slowly, so subtly that no one realizes it until it's done, you boys feel an inexorable pull back into the relationship. At first it's just the sex. But then she's like "damnit, my apartment is being fumigated - can I stay with you?" And then it's "oh I bought this Groupon to this place I know you'd love and it's about to expire!! Come out to dinner!" And suddenly, you're back to brunch on Sunday mornings, going to Ikea to discuss furniture options, and driving your friends fucking crazy with this girl they thought they were well shot of.

Well. If the crazy girl is lucky.

Thus begets my first postulation: boys are brainless. I don't mean to be all "haven't you seen a terrible romantic comedy?" BUT HAVEN'T YOU. Also, in real person terms, you KNOW that it's not possible that your ex has suddenly become a sex pot who is TOTES OK with having a casual relationship with you. You know why? She's the SAME GIRL WHOSE HEART YOU BROKE A FEW MONTHS AGO. Also? You're NOT THAT GOOD IN BED. So every time she assures you that "no, we're tooooootally like friends with benefits" do not think that you get to suddenly be Justin Timberlake and rock Mila Kunis without putting out in the commitment department. I haven't seen the movie, but I'll tell you how it will end: they will fall in love, kiss, get together, get married, and have 2.3 blissful children.

And this is the movie that crazy girl is going to take you to see.

Don't get me wrong - girls do it too. I have a "friend" (ehem) who went through a really tragic break up last summer with her boyfriend (cough, cough) and then he went away and she moved out of the apartment they shared together (cough) and when he came back suddenly her friends found that I she was totally smitten-kitten over Grad School Ex again.

Whatever.

But instead of boys luring their ex-girlfriends back with the promise of sex (please. Ha. Not saying it's not appealing, just that we can get it elsewhere) they lure them in with promises of a new, different relationship. One in which they are able to commit, want to have lots of sex and babies, and in which their mother's terribly low (and rather undeserved, if my "friend" does say so herself) opinion of the girl doesn't matter. And ladies, I am here to tell you - it's a lie.

Which leads me to MA's Second Law of exes: girls are gullible.

I mean, I'm pretty smart. And I have a very good therapist. And about 15 friends who have my back so fiercely that if we needed to take down fillintheblank gang West Side Story-style, we could. Every single one of them was like "uh. Really? What has changed in the past month that you guys were apart that suddenly brought on this realization?" A few also said "MA, this isn't a romantic comedy. Get off Netflix streaming, now."

And yet - I fell for it.

And months later, when we were having the SAME conversations we had been having about long term relationship potential, I found myself laughing - wasn't this supposed to have been resolved 365 days before? Actually, HADN'T it been resolved? And then didn't you come to me and say, I was wrong, I've never loved anyone more, and I want to be with you forever.

Sigh.

In Grad School Ex's defense, I think he probably truly believed it when he said it. And in crazy lady's defense (I mean... maybe. At least in "crazy ladies'" defense. Not necessarily this specific case) they might believe it too. That they're totally cool with not being in a relationship with you.

And maybe, just maybe, it all works out for some people. Cue sappy music.

But in the majority of cases, it does not. So boys - trust me. She is using sex to get you back. And girls - unless he had a life changing experience, or 10 years have gone by (ok, at least A year has gone by) - he still isn't ready. And that's OK, because there are super hot people out there just waiting to give you the good sex and also tell you that they want to be with you forever.

So quit wasting your time and go find them damnit!

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 - no me gustaba.

I just wanted all y'all to know that I did not like the movie. And that's the kindest way I can say it. If you're sick of hearing me talk about Harry Potter (I wouldn't be surprised), I'll be back tomorrow with a normal post. If you don't want to hear bad things about Harry Potter (the movies), I'll be back tomorrow with a normal post. If you haven't seen the movie or read the book yet and want to, I'll be back tomorrow with a normal post.

Otherwise, my thoughts after the jump.

People Who Rock. People Who Suck. Viewers choice!

I'm taking nominations. I feel like today's would be too... you know. Similar to last week's and things like that. Also I can't decide if Rebekah Brooks would BOTH rock and suck, or just suck.

So I'm throwing it to you!

Who rocks? Who sucks? I'll update as the weekend goes on. XOXO

Thanks to Miss Sassy Pants at A Few French Fries Short of a Happy Meal, vvk at Accident and Error and MLU at My Legal Union!

People Who Rock:

1. Betty Ford!!
2. The men and women who have made the Space Shuttle program work over the past 30 years... many of whom have recently lost their jobs... and many more who will lose their jobs in the coming weeks.

People Who Are Neutral:

1. Rebekah Brooks

People Who Suck:

1. Aron Levy
2. Voldemort
3. Slytherin

Update: I take (most of) it back

So.

Today was an utterly SHIT day. I would rather not go into why because I actually feel FABULOUS right now, but let's just leave it at work + need new work + self esteem (old work related) + romantic life + work.

FUN.

It all sort of came together in a massive clusterfuck around 7:30, just when I was getting on YET ANOTHER CONFERENCE CALL. I muted the phone, pulled a pillow over my mouth just in case the mute doesn't work (ie, my biggest fear EVER) and sobbed a little.

Ok, more than a little.

I felt super bad for myself and played my "Mopey Music" playlist, which usually makes me feel worse, then better. This time it wasn't doing anything. And I thought to myself, "self? You are sucking right now. Yes, life isn't perfect but it's pretty damn good. And you better shape up or ship out."

I chose shipping out.

Well, biking out really. Biking is pretty much my favorite thing to do in the world - and it's physical activity!!! Inevitably, no matter how sad or crappy or wiped or whatever I felt before going for a bike ride, I end up singing (a sure sign of pure joy in my case) about halfway through, if not before.

Today was no different.

I biked waaaaaay up Connecticut (total sidenote: was there like, a happy hour at the National Zoo? Because there were a shitton of people coming out wasted, looking for cabs, holding beer mugs. WANNA BE INVITED NEXT TIME BISHES) and just when I had decided that was enough hills, I started singing along to Billy Joel.

Loudly.

Which made me even happier, because I love being happy enough to sing and I LOVE Billy Joel! And so I started belting as I flew down the hills, hair whipping around like crazy, just feeling really, really lucky to be alive, and me, and all that jazz.

Now you may be wondering what this has to do with Harry Potter.

As I came down CT, I hit a particularly bad spot in Cleveland Park, where the car-and-people traffic was super bad, PLUS something was blocking the right most lane, thus plunging me into said morass. I was annoyed, because I had been feeling SO lovely and now I had to inhale the fumes of drunken boys and silly girls' cars, so I looked for the hold up.

And it was that theatre in CP.

You know - the one that shows like, ONE movie at a time. And guess what that movie is today. All together now? Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, part deux. And I don't know. Maybe I still needed a pick me up. Maybe I realized I was being a total B before, and who am I to say that one method of experiencing something is better than another? And maybe sometimes I let my insecurities sort of take over so much that they make me scream I'M BETTER I'M BETTER I'M BETTER THAN YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU.

Internally. Most of the time.

Whatever the reason, seeing a bunch of people who were deeeefinitely my age dressed up in black robes, in Dumbledore beards, sporting red-and-gold ties (and of course, the occasional rebellious green-and-silver) reminded me that Harry Potter, much like biking, is my ultimate escape. I am not exaggerating when I say that Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley (and later, Miss Weasley) got me through some of the roughest times in my life. 9/11. Leaving for college. Leaving college 4 years later. Break-up, upon break-up, upon break-up. Illnesses, death, losing friends for other reasons. JK Rowling deserves at least as much money as I've paid my (AMAZING) therapist because she has pulled me through time and time again.

I guess she probably has that much money. Or you know, 300mil times that.

The point is, Harry Potter is awesome. If you don't think so, that's great too. Whatever gets you through the day, yanno? Because when people are having truly TRULY crap days, whether they're because of work or boyfriends or terrorist attacks or your country defaulting on its loans, if something can make you smile I say go for it (unless it's illegal. Well... illegal for a good reason. Like cocaine. Don't do it. It's not a good idea!). Reading - not watching - HP makes me so happy I could burst out singing an operetta, but I realize that there are people who would prefer to see Daniel Radcliffe fighting Ralph Fiennes to the death (what. Please. You knew that, or else you haven't read the books OR seen the movie).

Some peeps would rather see DR on Broadway. With no pants on.

It's not really my place to judge (although I do it all the time) and for that I am sorry. Mostly. Because I did mean it, I really can't stand people asking me how I'm going to feel tomorrow. If there was a day I was tragically sad, it was July 21st (through maybe the 22nd) 2007. Four years later, I'm opening that first book again, and I'm not upset at all. Because tomorrow's FRIDAY. I don't have WORK on the weekends (usually).

And I think I have some reading to do.

I read the books.

I know the last movie of the Harry Potter franchise comes out today. You'd have to be deaf, blind or the type of person who doesn't utilize her New York Times paywall subscription to the point that in the last month the NYT reports she's read just under 600 articles.

I am none of those people.

In addition to the ridiculous paid and free marketing going on, so many people have asked me how excited I am to see this movie. "I know you're a huge Harry Potter fan" they say. "How sad are you going to be Friday morning when it's all over."

Yeah. It's FRIDAY. Ima be THRILLED.

It's hard at this point not to snap "I READ THE BOOKS!" because I've said it 100 bagillion times to anyone who listens, or asks which movie is my favorite, or you know, looks at me the wrong way, and the 101st bagillionth time it sounds likes I'm judging people who only watch the movies.

Which I am, I guess. But not TOO harshly.

I know that not everyone's a reader. And I know most people aren't a re-reader in the way I am. My copies of Harry Potter (or the Hunger Games, or any of Madeleine L'Engle's books) are so dog eared, so tear stained, soooooo thumbprinted with tomato sauce or sea water or chicken noodle soup (I eat Lipton's, in case you were wondering) that it's like a mini collection of my personal history of the past 23 or so years of my life that I've been a re-reader.

I love my books, I do. Just in a different way than others.

The problem is, people expect you to love the movie adaptions of these things as well, as though anything at all related to your obsession is good enough. Well I'm here to tell you that's not true. In fact, it's blatantly false. While I loved (LOVED!!) going to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, I pretty much had to be coerced not only into loving it, but going in the first place. Still, I was a bit of a whiner. After the first few "that's not in the books!" Joey had enough of me and pointed her wand at me and threatened to cast a spell of silence if I didn't shut up.

So I did. She had a WAND.

The rest of the day rocked. But that was a hands on experience, one that sure, didn't make me a witch (or not quite) but made me feel as non Muggley as possible. The books do more than that. Because they are written such that we can understand what's going on Harry's head and no one else's, we become Harry. We feel his pain, we love Ginny Weasley a ton and Ron and Hermione maybe even a little more. We hate Voldemort for killing our parents and we seek revenge against him. Most of all, we are ELATED when we find we are wizards, DESTROYED when (SPOILER ALERT) Cedric dies, and GRIMLY DETERMINED to make sure no one gets hurt who wasn't absolutely necessary, all in OUR name.

Seriously. That's how I feel.

At WWOHP it wasn't Harry's life I was living, it was mine. But I was MA drinking a butterbeer, MA watching a wand pick her best friend, MA sitting next to her other best friend (clutching her hand - hard) while a Dementor gave chase.

In the movie theatre I am just MA, girl who paid $11 to see special effects.

My point is that the experience is not the same. AT ALL. And maybe some people prefer being on the periphery and watching the battle (as opposed to sobbing through it because you feel you're a part of it). And maybe it's sort of crazy and a bit of a personality flaw to be that involved with a literary character, or in a world that doesn't exist except in JK Rowling's (and so many other people's) imagination. And maybe I should stop trying to even compare the two.

But everyone keeps ASKING.

So here's my answer. I'm not going to see the movie tonight, although I am going to see it (which I can't say for all of the other ones. I stopped watching them after the third started impinging upon my brain's version of the story, altho I've seen the 6th and parts of the 5th). I plan to go Saturday, mostly so I can see the one scene that makes my heart soar every time I read it in the flesh (in the... screen?).

I'm not that excited. Because I know how the story ends and during the past four years my imagination has carefully crafted a wonderful way that looks. There is no way whatever gets thrown up on that screen will match my brain at all. Not because I'm particularly good at it (although I am, did you know? I'm supa smaht) but because in my head, it is real while in the Regal Cinema at Gallery Place it is just a movie.

I'll see it, but the morning after won't bring any sort of tragedy to my life, because for me the journey ended in July 2007. And yet it has continued to go on, every single time I re-read the 1st book for the 30th time, or the 7th book for the 18th, or any of the ones in between. That is because I READ THE BOOKS, damnit.

And Ima keep living Harry's life as long as I can.

"Buy me a keg, and I won't burn your fucking house down."

Thank you Jon Stewart for making me laugh about this debt limit craziness (if I said nonsense, which was my first inclination, I feel like that implies I feel that it's a junk debate, while in fact, I think it's a very IMPORTANT debate, that I wish the Republicans would start having).

In other words "what are you supposed to do with [them]? It's like a doctor consulting with a patient who believes strictly in magic. 'Broken legs? Nothing a frog wing and fire dance and some rhinoceros tusk boner powder can't cure.'" Only unfortunately, this isn't some... crazy pseudo-science movie from the 1950s (right? Fire dance? Rhinoceros tusk boner powder?!?!?!). This is real life. Boo.

my first dry - and arranged - marriage

Huh. That title makes it sound like I got married. But I assure you, I did not.

Anyway!

As summer wears on I've found that I've had a wedding event every weekend since I got back from Italy, excluding the weekend when I had to say no to a wedding in Boston (boo!), and the weekend I was in NJ for my grandfather's 90th birthday.

So, still open bar and buffet?

Many of the events are still prep events (my brother's fiancee's shower, my bff Maria's bachelorette) but there have been a few weddings in and among the calendar as well, and this past weekend was one of those. I'm recapping not just because I expect there to be a few more serious recaps in the next few months (sorry) but also because this was the first time a friend ever had a dry wedding.

And the first time I've ever witnessed an arranged marriage.

My grandparents (Italians, not Irish-Americans) were matched together, as well as many of our family in that generation, so it's not like it's a whole new thing for me. But this is a friend of mine from college (a relatively respected midwest institution) and so this certainly was out of my normal scope.

That doesn't mean I didn't have FUN!

It just meant that, unlike other times when I've been reluctant to see grooms of my friends (see: my friend Suzie's wedding shortly after I started this blog. Also, the first wedding in which I was a bridesmaid), this time it was because... I dunno. Who WAS this guy? I mean, clearly my friend had met and liked him, and he is from the Jerz so that's nice, but all I knew is that he was deemed suitable for the girl who taught me to apply liquid eyeliner.

Weird, but that's my point. Utterly surreal.

So here we go. 5th wedding of 2011, but second recap (whoops). Arranged, sans booze. I bet you mostly know how this is going to go:

11 in "11" - Wedding Recap 2

Who: a friend from college who I met when I became her RA. We're the same age and much like a bunch of girls you've heard about on the blog, we quickly shed that authoritative relationship and rocked out (here's look at you NY Sam).
What: the ceremony had been held (actually, several ceremonies had been held) abroad in the bride's home country back in January, so mostly this was a party, although there were some traditional elements in the way the couple was presented.
Where: near my parents' house in New Jersey (groom is from the next town over)
When: July 2011
Why: both Joey and I felt terrible about missing the out of town celebrations, but as she had just started studying for the bar and I had just used up my last vacation day for Christmas, neither of us had the ability (or wherewithal) to attend. Luckily, the NJ-based ceremony was 20ish minutes from my parents house, so we hopped over to the Jerz to celebrate.
How: I was gonna catch a ride with a different friend to Princeton but at the last minute that sort of fell apart so instead I took a Greyhound bus from the Union Station terminal to Port Authority in Manhattan. I then took a NJ Transit bus to the station closest to my parents' house with Joey, where we spent Friday night (she in the guest room, me in Grace's old room, yeehaw!). We borrowed my mom's car on Saturday to attend the wedding, and my mom decided to drive me back to DC yesterday to visit with me (but mostly Gracie who she misses a lot).
Drink(s) of choice: virgin strawberry dacquiris, diet coke.
Highlight: a simply AMAZING Bollywood-esq rendition of the couple's relationship, made by the sister and brother (mostly sister) of the bride in their home country. They recounted the groom's family's history, the meeting that took place between the groom and the bride for the first time, and mocked my friend mercilessly for her shopping ways. It was truly fabulous.
Lowlight: No booze. Period.
Music grade: DJ was good for a NJ wedding, but this was a Desi affair. There was tons of Sinatra and Ke$ha, but what everyone wanted was good old fashioned dance time. He had the music - the bride's sister had provided him with a full flash drive of songs - and he should have better read the crowd. C.
Lessons learned:

1. I had forgotten about DST - Desi Standard Time. The invite said 12, the party got started around 2. I'm worried I'm losing my NJ street cred.
2. Arranged marriages can be just as happy as others - there were several I saw there who were in their 30s and seemed to truly like each other. Of course, since arranged marriages have a much lower divorce rate than others, this was nice to see!
3. The United States is sort of bent upon keeping the spouses of green card holders out. That's effing ridiculous. I hate our immigration system.
4. I want to wear saris. ALL THE TIME.
5. When going to a more um, conservation wedding, cover up the boobs and break out the make-up. It's the only way to be. I went light on the aforementioned eyeliner and heavy on the cleavage. It was a mistake, to say the least.

Selective Anglophilia

Let me be clear.

While I did not care for the whole William's n Kate's Magical Day, because I dunno, I guess I liked weddings (and most things in my life) if they are related to ME as opposed to NOT, that doesn't mean I don't occasionally have Beatlemania or Union Jack fever or whatever you want to call it.

Britain is GREAT (see what I did there?).

British accents are the best. Posh, Scottish, cockneyed, whatever. AWESOME. Or should I say... actually, that's probably the same (like table in Love Actually). I think their Parliament is pretty darn cool - I think Congress could be improved if everyone sort of choked and chortled instead of thinly pressing their lips into a line and thinking about their next fake and bake (here's looking at you John Boehner), if they even show up at all. Harry Potter? Check. Football?

Bend it like MA likes it.

However, much like weddings of peeps I don't know, I'm not really into tabloids in the US (I know, I'm an awful person blah blah blah I don't care) and while I'll certainly flip through the latest Us Weekly when I'm waiting on line at CVS, the truly horrendous tabloid shit (like the ones in Europe and especially the UK) makes me feel bad for people who are famous, which isn't fun at all because mostly I tend to believe if you make oodles of money and can do whatever the hell you want even if it's doucherific (and that's you, Chris Brown), you're pretty much on your own where my pity is concerned.

Was that one long sentence?

Anyway, the thing with News of the World is that there is the one aspect of tabloids that I find interesting - Rupert Murdoch. He is a poohead, which is the nicest thing I can say about him. As a person I have no opinion on him but as a media mogul I blame him for a great deal of what's wrong with the news today. And not just Fox News!

Although you know, they are a large percentage of it.

But the NY Post which is a terrible, terrible paper. The Wall Street Journal, which used to be a good sources for smart commentary "on the other side of the aisle" has become, since the Murdochs took it over, Fox News for smarty pants who occasionally read something other than WSJ/FoxNews.com. In addition to supporting crap journalism, no one - NO ONE - should have that much power. His professional arrogance, his role in dumbing down the American masses, and his involvement and adoration of Brits that are simply awwwwwwful (Mags Thatcher, Davey Cameron) - all these lead to my wish to see Mr. Murdoch taken down in the style of Citizen Kane (NOT William Randolph Hearst, thankyouverymuch).

And so. For once, whilst the world is riveted by the English, I count myself among them. I can't stop reading all the articles on this phone hacking scandal, and I hope whatever news Rebekah Brooks was talking about when she said everyone would "understand" why they had to close the paper is sensational and fantastic and ends the Murdochs without hurting anyone else.

Of course it won't.

But until then, I'll be up early in the morning to read the Lede and the Guardian, to check in on any developments that arose overnight, to comment on the pieces and then check back early and often to see if anyone replied. I haven't YET gotten to the point where I'm interested in Rupert's every move (or outfit) but I don't think I'm that far away.

So enjoy fact that royalty had/is having a lovely trip through Canada ("comes from Canaaaaaadia" - points to the winner) and California, if that's your sort of thing. I hear you, except when we say "royalty" I mean "media conglomerate" and when we say "had a lovely trip" I mean "fell flat on their faces because karma's a bitch."

Forza Inghilterra!

People Who Rock. People Who Suck.

Apparently I'm more annoyed this week than pleased. My verbosity (or lack thereof) sort of shocks me!

People Who Rock:

1. Carvel ice cream cake;
2. Caroline for pushing me on my running;
3. Emma Watson for being pretty much the cutest thing ever;
4. Suzanne Collins. I love Peeta;
5. My mom for visiting next week;
6. Andrea Bocelli; and
7. My therapist. Also, my antidepressants. I feel normal, and that's highly unusual for me.

People Who Suck:

1. Rupert Murdoch. Dude. WTF. This is low, even for your most scummy lowness;
2. Similar vein: James Murdoch, Rebekah Brooks (fka Wade), Andy Coulson, and yes, you too David Cameron (also - Cherie Blair? Really?!?!);
3. Maryland Republicans for forcing a popular vote on the DREAM Act. You're assholes. So is everyone who signed your petition. The point of representative government is to let elected officials make the decisions. It's "if I lose, I'm going to pretend we're a democracy". I can't wait for Maryland to become the Arizona of the East Coast. Ugh;
4. The agriculture community, at least as far as those supporting "ag gag" legislation. I really love meat, but I'm seriously becoming a localterian, which means I'll eat a TON less (dude, good eggs are expensive). It's terrible what the agriculture business does to the people who pick fruits/vegetables, and to the animals that provide us with the fruits of their labor (and life). I'm trying to run through everything in my freezer and then I'm going local;
5. Chris Christie. Either until he stops hating on cops and teachers (the very people who you know, MAKE SOCIETY RUN IN A CIVIL WAY), he is number five on the people who suck list. Because he sucks, times five. Just cause he isn't playing a role in the shutdown doesn't change this, at all;
6. In a slightly less important note, George Lucas. Srsly man? It was a random bar marathon. Star Wars fans are super devoted to you and this is how you treat them? Ass; and
7. Facebook. TAKE THE PICTURES DOWN. Let me be clearer. Not asking you to take down someone else's profile. Just to TAKE DOWN THE PICTURES OF ME ON SOMEONE ELSE'S PROFILE, WHO IS FALSELY REPRESENTING THEM AS HER. I'm already on Google+. Don't make me convert entirely.

In which I am an elitist.

(Orrrr is that every post?)

So.

I read a LOT of Jezebel during the day, mostly because they have stories I'd miss otherwise and also, I love the commenting community. There is also a bit of me that likes to rain down judgementalism when the writers decide to hate on G. Paltrow or show the slightest bit of hypocrisy, like in their comparisons of the DSK case with the "rape cop" case.

Yeah. I know. It's probably envy but it's also good for them! I think?

Anyway, in the end I love them. And so I'd like to draw all y'alls collective attention to this post from two days ago where Margaret Hartmann (who I never get angry with. She's not a Paltrow hater and she's remarkably even keeled and consistent. In case you were wondering what I thought about a person I don't know) takes us through the results of some study that purports to explain why women with more education tend to have less children. Science says that it's actually not the causal relationship we think it is - it is inverted. Having less children actually allows women to continue their education for much longer. Duh.

(In other news, does "science says" sound like a terrible but extremely marketable TV-game-show-for-our-times to anyone else? Anyone? Bueller? Glenn Beck?)

Erm, ok. While I totes get that, because you know - IT MAKES A RIDICULOUS AMOUNT OF SENSE have you ever SEEN HOW MUCH TIME A CHILD CAN SOAK FROM A DAY - I'm going to go ahead and say that there is some omitted variable bias in this survey. That's right! And because apparently I'm brilliant and also, quite pretty (I forget where I was going with this? Was I going to say "incredibly self-centered and overly confident in my abilities? No? Well maybe I should have) I'm going to let you all in on what this omitted variable is.

Elitism!

But not in the bad way (is there ever a bad way? Does the fact that I'm asking that suggest to you that I am clearly elitistissima?). Essentially, more educated women have more education (also duh), and therefore PROBABLY more knowledge (but not definitely!) than their less educated counterparts. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing if we are to believe LeFou from Beauty and the Beast because it causes you to think. EEP! And when I educated women start to think about the long term implications of rearing a child, and their own current qualifications for being a parent, who can blame me them if I some of them run away screaming "I'M NOT READY, I'M NOT READY!!!!"

What. I'm they're NOT!

I don't mean to imply this is only about children. In an anecdote that I hope shows I'm not trying to be cliched, this "I know things. That makes me suspect/realize I'm not prepared for X" I was recently told by someone close to my family that I should write things down and send them off to the NYTimes because he was sure loads of people agreed with me. And while I was intensely flattered, and also, kind of shocked that he thought other people were as fan-boy liberal as I am, there was no way in HELL.

IN HELL!

That I was going to write an op-ed (eurgh, makes me anxious thinking about it) for the Times. Why? Because I have opinions on public policy, yes, but I also know enough to know that I am in no way an expert. In ANYTHING. Well, perhaps other than in "working from bed because it is 95 degrees outside and I sweat like the Italian-American you'd never know I am because somehow I got the skin tone of my Irish mother and that's what people remember about you not your curly hair, thighs and glands."

I suppose I am also an expert in being distracted/whining.

Anyway, when I think about having children, the sheer enormity of responsibility that it entails overwhelms me. I don't make enough money, project a stable enough emotional structure, live close enough to my parents, nor have I yet decided which languages my fetus is going to listen to in utero. And while my overly educated female friends may not cite those reasons for being childless, they are in the same vein. "Not prepared enough."

There are of course plenty of people I know who have kids (though with the exception of Eva, I'm not sure if any of the moms my age that I know have post-collegiate degrees). And so this all may be a bunch of bullshit, as may most of the things I write in this blog.

But.

I think that highly educated women (and men too!) have shown their willingness, and even their propensity for, overthinking things. And that's good. I like having a president who clearly runs through options and arguments and solutions, rather than just poking his finger at a piece of paper (or worse, his Mr. Potter-esq VP) and saying "THAT ONE!" before settling into a bag of pretzels.

(Cheap shot. I'm sorry.)

I also worry, however, that if there keeps being a growing disparity between highly educated (which is historically correlated with well paid) women/peeps and their less educated, less "in the weeds" colleagues, that can't be that good for society. Even JUST in terms of class, it's bad when money is getting passed from the hands of the few to the hands of the fewer while the masses want for more (money, but also food, clothes, books, etc). But it also isn't very good for society when the less-than-stellar-minded men and women alike I knew once upon a time in high school (think "The Situation" but actually FROM NJ) are popping out a baby every other year, and my lawyer friends are too concerned about their hours at work (understandably) to even THINK about reproducing anytime soon.

Yeah, it's elitist to think this way. But... that's my point.

Happy Birthday, America!

The New Colossus
Emma Lazarus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

People Who Rock. People Who Suck. The "whoopsies" version.

So right, that didn't happen. What did was drunken (well, tipsy) loveliness. Oopsies! Thus we start this week's (months/3 months/half year's) PWR/PWS knowing I will make an appearance on the latter. Much love!

People Who Rock:

1. My friend Joey whose birthday is TODAY, my friend Anna who is GRADUATING today, my mama whose birthday is toMORrow, my friend (can I use your real name, you know who you are) who is getting MARRIED tomorrow, my genitori who are celebrating 29 years of marriage (why yes that is my age plus one, I was born 10 months after their wedding) on SUNDAY, my grandparents who are celebrating 63 (hooooly shit) years of marriage on Monday, and America! Happy 235th birthday! You don't look a day over 190;
2. Caroline, Joey, and Maria for forming a running support group that is almost definitely just for me, even though they say otherwise. Thanks girls!;
3. The City of Chicago, the staff at the W. Jackson Giordano's, the concessions man on the train between MKE and CHI, the bartendress at the Milwaukee airport who let me sit for a few hours charging my computer and working, and the people at the Signature Lounge who let me nurse my Lakeshore Lemonade while taking pictures and meditating;
4. Jon Stewart. I love him;
5. JK Rowling. Even though I don't really understand Pottermore I'm so happy you wrote those books;
6. Anonymous and other hacker groups. I know, it's sort of weird that they "rock". But while I don't agree with everything they do, and I understand it's illegal, they haven't done something so egregious that I think they crossed a line. We live in a different world now, and it's time for people to realize that. In so many ways, the world is flatter and flatter by the DAY (whether or not you think that's a good thing, it's true) and Anonymous and their cohorts are part of our future. Their recent takedown of the city of Orlando for being super douches was well down. Plus, they remind me of Lisbeth Salander, who as a literary character is one of my faves, and that's good enough for me; and
7. Pixar. I forgive you for Cars 2. But don't let Disney win again.

People Who Suck:

1. ME. I'm sorry, I be better reeeeeeeeeeeeal soon;
2. Silvio Berlusconi. Just cause you paid some doctor to say you can have sex up to five times a day doesn't change the fact that you've stagnated your beautiful country for nearly 20 years and are a racist, sexist, douche bag. In this case, your (alleged) virility can be used as a metaphor only for the rising power of Italians to make you go AWAY;
3. Kansas, Indiana, and all the states that are currently fucking with Planned Parenthood. You're dumb. That is all;
4. Mark Halperin. You're a dick. And I'm not sorry for saying it, not even fake sorry;
5. Chris Christie. Either until he stops hating on cops and teachers (the very people who you know, MAKE SOCIETY RUN IN A CIVIL WAY), he is number five on the people who suck list. Because he sucks, times five. Just cause he isn't playing a role in the shutdown doesn't change this, at all;
6. Justices Thomas, Scalia, Alito and Roberts. Mostly Justice Thomas. But all of them. You're ruining my dream job; and
7. Facebook. Yeah, I'm looking at you bitches. I have given you a ridiculous amount of proof at this point that that rando is using pictures of me. TAKE THE PICTURES DOWN. I'm not asking for you to take down the profile! That's life! BUT TAKE THEM DOWN NOW.