| Katharine Hepburn You scored 14% grit, 23% wit, 57% flair, and 19% class! |
| You are the fabulously quirky and independent woman of character. You go your own way, follow your own drummer, take your own lead. You stand head and shoulders next to your partner, but you are perfectly willing and able to stand alone. Others might be more classically beautiful or conventionally woman-like, but you possess a more fundamental common sense and off-kilter charm, making interesting men fall at your feet. You can pick them up or leave them there as you see fit. You share the screen with the likes of Spencer Tracy and Cary Grant, thinking men who like strong women. |
 Link: The Classic Dames Test written by gidgetgoes on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test |
Friday, December 29, 2006
I always knew it....
Under the weather...
I promise I'll return, wittier than ever, and hopefully before the new year.
If not, here's hoping this is one damn good year. The ending of 2006 isn't looking too promising.
If not, here's hoping this is one damn good year. The ending of 2006 isn't looking too promising.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Out out damn strep!
I, the invincible, the healthy, the girl who possibly hates doctors more than anyone you know, willingly went to the doctor yesterday. I have ... strep throat.
If I make it, I will repost once I feel better.
If I make it, I will repost once I feel better.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Ma'am, excuse me, sir, put your feet in the stirrups...
So here's an update on the Indian runner who may be stripped of a medal after undergoing a gender test. In case you've never heard of a gender test or are curious as to what it entails, check out the article from slate.com. I thought going to the gynecologist was pretty darn invasive, but this takes the cake.
I can't quite wrap my mind around this. I know there's more than one angle to this, but for some reason, I'm curious as to others' opinions. To me, gender should not have to be proven. If someone is living as a woman and competes as a woman, why should there be any question of that person's gender? Isn't this a problem?
It reminds me of Judith Butler's Gender Troubles and the fluidity of gender. However, I'm not the most knowledgeable about gender and am completely open to other conversations about this.
I can't quite wrap my mind around this. I know there's more than one angle to this, but for some reason, I'm curious as to others' opinions. To me, gender should not have to be proven. If someone is living as a woman and competes as a woman, why should there be any question of that person's gender? Isn't this a problem?
It reminds me of Judith Butler's Gender Troubles and the fluidity of gender. However, I'm not the most knowledgeable about gender and am completely open to other conversations about this.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
ho hum
Ok so I hate my job, but probably not for the reason most people hate their jobs. I hate my job because my boss doesn't work, which means, as his secretary, I never have work to do. Thus, the blog. Oh ho, you might say. No work to do? Sounds ideal.
Alas, you have never met me. The me who must constantly be busy or have an already large guilt complex expand to monumental proportions. I read stories of people addicted to the internet - I have become one of them. I have read about loss of employee productivity. That's me. WHY WON'T HE WORK?
And when he does (rarely), he barks at me. I should mention he's diminutive, and I tower over him. So he slams open doors and barks orders at me. Usually I bark right back, which makes our working relationship a mixture of grunts, barks, and murmurs. It's quite lovely really.
Today, however, the entire office but me and our clerk are out of the office, together, working. Why am I left behind? They say it's because they need someone else to be in the office, but believe me, it's not true. There isn't that much that goes on here. (Oh, I miss my old job).
I feel like I am in a bad high school movie. I probably sound like it too. Sorry for the completely uneducational post, but there are so many things I could be doing instead of sitting here, blogging and looking at every possible website I can imagine. I am so up on current events it's unbelievable. Need to know a good site for last-minute gifts? I've probably got dozens.
I'm boooooored. And I'm done. Peace.
Alas, you have never met me. The me who must constantly be busy or have an already large guilt complex expand to monumental proportions. I read stories of people addicted to the internet - I have become one of them. I have read about loss of employee productivity. That's me. WHY WON'T HE WORK?
And when he does (rarely), he barks at me. I should mention he's diminutive, and I tower over him. So he slams open doors and barks orders at me. Usually I bark right back, which makes our working relationship a mixture of grunts, barks, and murmurs. It's quite lovely really.
Today, however, the entire office but me and our clerk are out of the office, together, working. Why am I left behind? They say it's because they need someone else to be in the office, but believe me, it's not true. There isn't that much that goes on here. (Oh, I miss my old job).
I feel like I am in a bad high school movie. I probably sound like it too. Sorry for the completely uneducational post, but there are so many things I could be doing instead of sitting here, blogging and looking at every possible website I can imagine. I am so up on current events it's unbelievable. Need to know a good site for last-minute gifts? I've probably got dozens.
I'm boooooored. And I'm done. Peace.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Boy Girl Boy Girl Boy
I'm not quite sure what this is all about. The only info I can find says exactly the same thing as this article.
If anyone has more information, please feel free to let me know.
I have been reading a book of essays Women on Ice by Cynthia Baughman. In it, there are several essays discussing gender testing. I think this is extremely odd. I'm not quite sure what the line on this particular instance is yet, but I'm curious.
As an aside, the book discusses the dichotomy of feminine/sports skaters, using Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan as examples. It's a really interesting book in that it uses ice skating to really look into the embedded sex/role issues facing women and men and the ramifications of those roles/characteristics.
But, like I said, if you have anything to add, please do so.
If anyone has more information, please feel free to let me know.
I have been reading a book of essays Women on Ice by Cynthia Baughman. In it, there are several essays discussing gender testing. I think this is extremely odd. I'm not quite sure what the line on this particular instance is yet, but I'm curious.
As an aside, the book discusses the dichotomy of feminine/sports skaters, using Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan as examples. It's a really interesting book in that it uses ice skating to really look into the embedded sex/role issues facing women and men and the ramifications of those roles/characteristics.
But, like I said, if you have anything to add, please do so.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
The Book That Launched a Thousand Queries...
I'll have to review the book before I give an official opinion, but I found this interesting as I was trolling sites today. The attached article, by Emily Wilson, is somewhat paltry, but the book does sound intriguing:
Dalby writes in Rediscovering Homer, that Homer was possibly a woman:
"... Dalby deploys a much stronger set of arguments for female authorship, based on comparative anthropological analysis of how women preserve songs, stories, and folk tales. Women are often the ones who retain linguistic and literary traditions for the longest time. Certainly, there is no evidence whatsoever of female epic poets in archaic Greece. When poets are described or alluded to in the Homeric poems themselves, they are always men. This fact alone makes Dalby's hypothesis implausible. On the other hand, there certainly were female lyric poets—Sappho, for example."
This passage seems a bit contradictory to me, which is precisely why I'd like to review the book and share my opinions. Of course, I'm broke at the moment so I'll have to find it at the library or ask for it for Christmas. But once I read it, I'll share...
Dalby writes in Rediscovering Homer, that Homer was possibly a woman:
"... Dalby deploys a much stronger set of arguments for female authorship, based on comparative anthropological analysis of how women preserve songs, stories, and folk tales. Women are often the ones who retain linguistic and literary traditions for the longest time. Certainly, there is no evidence whatsoever of female epic poets in archaic Greece. When poets are described or alluded to in the Homeric poems themselves, they are always men. This fact alone makes Dalby's hypothesis implausible. On the other hand, there certainly were female lyric poets—Sappho, for example."
This passage seems a bit contradictory to me, which is precisely why I'd like to review the book and share my opinions. Of course, I'm broke at the moment so I'll have to find it at the library or ask for it for Christmas. But once I read it, I'll share...
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Water Water Everywhere...
In southeast Texas where I live, there has recently been much talk about our ancient obscentity law. Granted, much of this law has to do with minors and is vastly important. However, as southeast Texans have seen recently, the extent of the law encompasses much more than simply protecting minors.
On October 25, 2006, police raided three separate locations that were rumored to sell pornographic films and sex toys. One of these stores, Bare Necessities, is a novelty shop that the writer has actually, on occasion, entered. The first time, even at age 22, there was much giggling and pointing going on. A friend and I had gone in order to find a Halloween costume and were treated with quite an array of "goodies". However, we were asked how old we were and although much of the store contained blatantly sexual wares, most were not "offensive" (in the sense that I was not offended. I understand that "offensive" items are highly subjective).
The first portion of the Texas statute specifically deals with items for adults, i.e. anything that stimulates arousal. It goes on to list reading materials, films, and false genetalia as the offensive items that it is actually a misdemeanor to buy or to sell.
I find this extremely interesting and yet another way that our government is intimately involved in our intimate lives and yet another way that government is also highly selective. The strip clubs and bars dotting a specific roadway in southeast Texas have remained open (keep in mind that these are specifically oriented to men's sexual arousal). There have been no raids for these locales that exploit women, these very public places that exhibit women in various erotic states. Yet, sex toys, have been banned. Those toys/films/creams, etc. which are meant for the privacy of the bedroom, kitchen, or wherever you ladies or couples choose to use them, have been banned.
Books-a-Million and Barnes & Noble beware: romance novels are next. Forget Dream Street and The Plantation and all those other strip clubs, the mega-bookstore's romance aisles are next on the list for Texas law enforcement agencies.
On October 25, 2006, police raided three separate locations that were rumored to sell pornographic films and sex toys. One of these stores, Bare Necessities, is a novelty shop that the writer has actually, on occasion, entered. The first time, even at age 22, there was much giggling and pointing going on. A friend and I had gone in order to find a Halloween costume and were treated with quite an array of "goodies". However, we were asked how old we were and although much of the store contained blatantly sexual wares, most were not "offensive" (in the sense that I was not offended. I understand that "offensive" items are highly subjective).
The first portion of the Texas statute specifically deals with items for adults, i.e. anything that stimulates arousal. It goes on to list reading materials, films, and false genetalia as the offensive items that it is actually a misdemeanor to buy or to sell.
I find this extremely interesting and yet another way that our government is intimately involved in our intimate lives and yet another way that government is also highly selective. The strip clubs and bars dotting a specific roadway in southeast Texas have remained open (keep in mind that these are specifically oriented to men's sexual arousal). There have been no raids for these locales that exploit women, these very public places that exhibit women in various erotic states. Yet, sex toys, have been banned. Those toys/films/creams, etc. which are meant for the privacy of the bedroom, kitchen, or wherever you ladies or couples choose to use them, have been banned.
Books-a-Million and Barnes & Noble beware: romance novels are next. Forget Dream Street and The Plantation and all those other strip clubs, the mega-bookstore's romance aisles are next on the list for Texas law enforcement agencies.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Something Disturbing to Start the Day Off
http://www.proana.us/
Wow. Guess there really are websites for everything. Pro-eating disorder websites. This is sickening on so many, many levels. Also, check out the HATE column. As I don't really hate anyone, I think it's a little much, but I just love seeing so many mixed metaphors, illogical, and completely irrational arguments.
I like how in one breath they compare eating disorders to cancer and in the next, describe how getting help is "not that simple." Well, of course, it's not simple. Chemo isn't simple either. But now I'm mixing things around.
Check it out.
Wow. Guess there really are websites for everything. Pro-eating disorder websites. This is sickening on so many, many levels. Also, check out the HATE column. As I don't really hate anyone, I think it's a little much, but I just love seeing so many mixed metaphors, illogical, and completely irrational arguments.
I like how in one breath they compare eating disorders to cancer and in the next, describe how getting help is "not that simple." Well, of course, it's not simple. Chemo isn't simple either. But now I'm mixing things around.
Check it out.
Why I Don't Go Out
Scenario: Local bar/hot spot on karaoke night. Ok. Various people singing after consuming alcoholic beverages. Ok. Even funny. Girl getting on stage bending over and grabbing her ankles for a guy to smack her ass with a paddle. Not ok. The fact that this bar endorsed this? Not ok.
Between that and various nefarious men (I know it rhymes), I decided I now understand my hatred of nights out on the town.
Thanks to TJ, Pouncy, and Shawn for helping out and showing a girl a good time with decent guys!
Between that and various nefarious men (I know it rhymes), I decided I now understand my hatred of nights out on the town.
Thanks to TJ, Pouncy, and Shawn for helping out and showing a girl a good time with decent guys!
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Yet More Marginalization
This article is also noted on feministing, which I usually find to be a very astute and open minded blog. However, I think that they fail to really analyze this article. They point out that the article states that underweight women have a higher chance of miscarriage. Ok, so that's great. Body image. Don't worry about weighing a flat 100 pounds.
But... the article goes on to say this:
Women who aren't married, women who are living with a partner, and women who have had terminated pregnancies are also at higher risk of miscarriage.
This was a survey of 6600 women ages 18-55. I don't know enough about science, but once again, this seems to me to reinforce the ideology that women must abide by certain social rules or risk losing a baby. The guilt factor. Along with this, I'd say this is pretty darn damning evidence.
Along with the idea that women are to blame for most things, you're also to blame if you lose a baby. This is such bullshit, I feel. Of course, I've never endured it, but I'd say that losing a baby is pretty much a difficult-enough experience without factoring in the government and science trying to tell you that the reason you lost your baby was one of any number of things YOU are responsible for. Wow.
But... the article goes on to say this:
Women who aren't married, women who are living with a partner, and women who have had terminated pregnancies are also at higher risk of miscarriage.
This was a survey of 6600 women ages 18-55. I don't know enough about science, but once again, this seems to me to reinforce the ideology that women must abide by certain social rules or risk losing a baby. The guilt factor. Along with this, I'd say this is pretty darn damning evidence.
Along with the idea that women are to blame for most things, you're also to blame if you lose a baby. This is such bullshit, I feel. Of course, I've never endured it, but I'd say that losing a baby is pretty much a difficult-enough experience without factoring in the government and science trying to tell you that the reason you lost your baby was one of any number of things YOU are responsible for. Wow.
Any Other Name...
I think that in the wake of recent racist comments by public figures, more needs to be said than simply - "These guys are assholes."
I think that as much as we try to tell one another that these names are simply words, somewhere along the way, we forgot to tell ourselves that words to us, are everything. Ask anyone on the street about the popular Verizon commercials, and they'll tell you about the ad campaign "Can you hear me now?" Or Nike's legendary "Just do it." Words are influencial. Beyond simply brands, words can incite, insult, and inflame.
I've attached an article that was in the Houston Chronicle today by John Lopez, and it's a pretty great article, but I'd like to extend it some. Yes, racial slurs are awful - any type, and I'm not trying to lessen their negative impact on society and its individuals. However, I would like to add - because I've seen several blogs dealing with this sort of thing - the c-word and "bitch" are also very denigrating to women. Many of the feminist websites I visit daily are in the habit of offhandedly calling one another bitches or addressing the readers as bitches.
It's not ok. It's not funny. It's demeaning, and it encourages others to use the titles as well. Read the article. Lopez argues his point very well, I believe.
So - stop it. I think we, as women and individuals, have enough to face without lowering ourselves to the ranks of others who use these words to degrade us.
Wish I Had to Worry About Making Too Much Money...
I find this a really interesting article. It discusses women as breadwinners, and more than that, as pretty primary breadwinners. The article is interesting in that many of these women, although having achieved career and financial success, still feel that they must be the master of the domestic world too.
I am curious, as I have no husband or children, how many women out there feel like this. Also, what is the men's take on this? The article really doesn't address this at all. For instance, why isn't Beth or Anna or whoever's husband taking responsibility for chores if he's home all day? And even if he's home all day - why does he expect his wife to take care of the chores?
I think it's fascinating that in this day and age, with all the advances we have made, that it still comes down to a fight about chores. When the article discusses this (although I know this is a big deal in marriages and can cause much resentment), I felt like we needed to write a chart out for the two and put stars by their names and the chores for which each is responsible. Childish? Yes. Why is it that society and many men (I'll try not to make generalizations) expect a career woman to succeed in addition to her domestic duties? Why is she tied to her home and children as a measure of success?
This is dangerous territory. It lends much to the current trend of blaming the mother, as a figure in society, for the ills of the children. Make it stop.
And put up a chore chart.
I am curious, as I have no husband or children, how many women out there feel like this. Also, what is the men's take on this? The article really doesn't address this at all. For instance, why isn't Beth or Anna or whoever's husband taking responsibility for chores if he's home all day? And even if he's home all day - why does he expect his wife to take care of the chores?
I think it's fascinating that in this day and age, with all the advances we have made, that it still comes down to a fight about chores. When the article discusses this (although I know this is a big deal in marriages and can cause much resentment), I felt like we needed to write a chart out for the two and put stars by their names and the chores for which each is responsible. Childish? Yes. Why is it that society and many men (I'll try not to make generalizations) expect a career woman to succeed in addition to her domestic duties? Why is she tied to her home and children as a measure of success?
This is dangerous territory. It lends much to the current trend of blaming the mother, as a figure in society, for the ills of the children. Make it stop.
And put up a chore chart.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Great Quote Tie-In
Wit has truth in it ... wisecracking is simply calisthenics with words. - Dorothy Parker
Ha Ha Ha ... Not
Check this out.
I think this guy's crazy because let me tell you, I have gotten quite a few laughs out of this article.
What's your take?
I think this guy's crazy because let me tell you, I have gotten quite a few laughs out of this article.
What's your take?
First blog after redesign
Ok. So over the last few months I've decided to take this nearly-dead blog into new territory. Joining others who so intelligently have started a forum for young feminists to speak, I am opening up this blog for topics that interest young women - and men. If you have suggestions, feel free to email me or leave comments.
Thanks for stopping by.
Thanks for stopping by.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
For Matt - Sorry no previous descriptions of the books. Adrienne recommended The Rapture of Canaan. It was a really interesting book. It went into religion and the extremes of doctrine, belief, church law. The narrator was a young girl within the religion who experiences the religion from childhood and begins to question its validity.
Back When We Were Grownups has the greatest first line. This is why I bought it: "Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person." A great tale discussing the past, our decisions, our feelings about those decisions, and in general, people who think too damn much. No, really, it was a great book.
As for the last one, Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, it is told from the viewpoint of an autistic boy. Sounds very Faulkner, but the story is carried in such a way that it comes to term through a consistent narrator.
Enough of that. Today, I woke up still ill and decided to treat myself to a day of rest. Somehow, rest is not very restful. I kept thinking of other things I needed to do and regretting that I did not have the energy to do them. So I watched several movies on TV, cursing the commercials and then watched a Law & Order: Special Victims Unit marathon. It was great fun. Now, I am thoroughly paranoid, glancing behind my back for psychos every few minutes, but I am no nearer sleep. 11:25 p.m. I have to work tomorrow. Not a good situation.
Yesterday, as promised, I went to Houston to check out the Diane Arbus exhibit. If you don't know anything about her, find out more. She is a fascinating character, and once again, I am astounded at how the arts seem to meld into one another. A photographer with a great grasp of the English language, her journals and correspondence were just as enthralling as her bold, staccato photographs. Thanks to a great friend (Keith) for loaning me a book before I went so that I could study her life in detail and really grasp her images. Immediately, upon leaving the gallery, I wished I had my camera. I want to make pictures. I have a desire to find my own eye within that elusive lens, as she would say.
I also attempted some lighter galleries with a friend. There were several openings on Art Row on Lake Street near Rice Village. These galleries were handing out the wine, sparkling water, and expensive, not-so-great art. Although, there were a couple winners among the rubbish. Basically, however, it was a lot of wealthy people with no taste and more interest in who was in attendance than who the artist happened to be. I got a migraine and left before they could nauseate me further.
The rich get richer, and the poor make art....
Back When We Were Grownups has the greatest first line. This is why I bought it: "Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person." A great tale discussing the past, our decisions, our feelings about those decisions, and in general, people who think too damn much. No, really, it was a great book.
As for the last one, Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, it is told from the viewpoint of an autistic boy. Sounds very Faulkner, but the story is carried in such a way that it comes to term through a consistent narrator.
Enough of that. Today, I woke up still ill and decided to treat myself to a day of rest. Somehow, rest is not very restful. I kept thinking of other things I needed to do and regretting that I did not have the energy to do them. So I watched several movies on TV, cursing the commercials and then watched a Law & Order: Special Victims Unit marathon. It was great fun. Now, I am thoroughly paranoid, glancing behind my back for psychos every few minutes, but I am no nearer sleep. 11:25 p.m. I have to work tomorrow. Not a good situation.
Yesterday, as promised, I went to Houston to check out the Diane Arbus exhibit. If you don't know anything about her, find out more. She is a fascinating character, and once again, I am astounded at how the arts seem to meld into one another. A photographer with a great grasp of the English language, her journals and correspondence were just as enthralling as her bold, staccato photographs. Thanks to a great friend (Keith) for loaning me a book before I went so that I could study her life in detail and really grasp her images. Immediately, upon leaving the gallery, I wished I had my camera. I want to make pictures. I have a desire to find my own eye within that elusive lens, as she would say.
I also attempted some lighter galleries with a friend. There were several openings on Art Row on Lake Street near Rice Village. These galleries were handing out the wine, sparkling water, and expensive, not-so-great art. Although, there were a couple winners among the rubbish. Basically, however, it was a lot of wealthy people with no taste and more interest in who was in attendance than who the artist happened to be. I got a migraine and left before they could nauseate me further.
The rich get richer, and the poor make art....
Saturday, July 10, 2004
Friday, July 09, 2004
Well, let's see. Where were we? Yesterday I had a migraine and slept 12 hours. Today, I am just coughing. Guess we'll take it. But, I am going to enjoy my weekend, sick or not. Tomorrow, I am going to Houston to check out the Diane Arbus photography exhibit and a couple of gallery openings. I am really excited.
I have also come to the conclusion that I am an awful friend. Two of my friends called me today and left messages on my voicemail. I didn't feel up to doing anything tonight because of my summer cold, but instead of having to call and tell anyone no, I just didn't call. I know it's horrible. I know I should behave better than that. It's just that I always feel so guilty telling people no. And it never fails that when one friend calls with plans, two more will call in the subsequent ten minutes. One weekend, no phone calls. The next, I have five different offers. That's when I shut down. No phone calls returned. My voicemail wasn't working, I claim. My phone died, and I couldn't find my charger. Awful, horrible - yes, these are the adjectives to describe my behavior. I just can't help it.
I think part of the problem is that I have a couple friends who never seem to care. You're sick? Ah well, let's talk for an hour even though you are coughing. You're eating? I'll keep you company.
To those friends, I say: Leave me alone. Be courteous. Help end my aversion to the telephone by not calling me. I have good-telephone friends; I have horrific telephone friends. The good ones know better. They keep me on the line for a couple minutes before ending saying, "I don't want to keep you," or "I know you hate being on the phone for a long time." To those friends, thank you.
You will never know how appreciated you are.
Do I bitch too much? I don't want to be a soapbox blogger, a bitchy blogger, who airs her grievances on the internet.
So I will end with a nice, quaint, endearing story. My mother knew I was sick so she made homemade vegetable soup (my favorite). My dad rented my favorite childhood video North Avenue Irregulars. We ate and watched TV, and they both kissed me and sent me back to my apartment with food for the weekend.
See - I tried sweet. Boring. (Although sincere thanks to mom and dad). I promise to be wiser, more intelligent sounding, even thought-provoking tomorrow. The art galleries will do my talking.
Sweet dreams, everyone.
I have also come to the conclusion that I am an awful friend. Two of my friends called me today and left messages on my voicemail. I didn't feel up to doing anything tonight because of my summer cold, but instead of having to call and tell anyone no, I just didn't call. I know it's horrible. I know I should behave better than that. It's just that I always feel so guilty telling people no. And it never fails that when one friend calls with plans, two more will call in the subsequent ten minutes. One weekend, no phone calls. The next, I have five different offers. That's when I shut down. No phone calls returned. My voicemail wasn't working, I claim. My phone died, and I couldn't find my charger. Awful, horrible - yes, these are the adjectives to describe my behavior. I just can't help it.
I think part of the problem is that I have a couple friends who never seem to care. You're sick? Ah well, let's talk for an hour even though you are coughing. You're eating? I'll keep you company.
To those friends, I say: Leave me alone. Be courteous. Help end my aversion to the telephone by not calling me. I have good-telephone friends; I have horrific telephone friends. The good ones know better. They keep me on the line for a couple minutes before ending saying, "I don't want to keep you," or "I know you hate being on the phone for a long time." To those friends, thank you.
You will never know how appreciated you are.
Do I bitch too much? I don't want to be a soapbox blogger, a bitchy blogger, who airs her grievances on the internet.
So I will end with a nice, quaint, endearing story. My mother knew I was sick so she made homemade vegetable soup (my favorite). My dad rented my favorite childhood video North Avenue Irregulars. We ate and watched TV, and they both kissed me and sent me back to my apartment with food for the weekend.
See - I tried sweet. Boring. (Although sincere thanks to mom and dad). I promise to be wiser, more intelligent sounding, even thought-provoking tomorrow. The art galleries will do my talking.
Sweet dreams, everyone.
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