Hair tips for girls

I'm at a party where I know no one. A college party, no less, in a neighborhood where I used to teach junior high (probably while these kids were still in elementary school, if I'm lucky). A punk rock basement band college party, and I'm wearing a velvet skirt and no leather or visible piercings. I'm just there to keep a friend company, and we're only supposed to stay for a minute.

Not really equipped for the mosh pit, I go out on the deck for some air. Damn I want a cigarette, but no way am I going to bum from these kids. I lean against the doorframe and observe.

"Excuse me, I know this is really strange to ask, but... How do you get your hair to do that? It's so gorgeous!"

Okay, I do have fabulous hair, but you wouldn't think the punk rockers would appreciate it... So I tell the pretty blond in the orange hoodie my secret for five-minute hair fabulousness:

1. Flip head over and dry as quickly as possible
2. Comb out snarls.
3. Put in a dozen velcro rollers, the kind with metal on the inside so they heat up (cheap at CVS)
4. Blast for a minute or two with the hair dryer on high heat.
5. Get in car, drive to party, remove before exiting car.

She laughs. "wow, if I'd known it was so easy... I never do anything with my hair; I still have semen in it from last nigh-- oh, did I just say too much?"

"Hey, whatever works!"

Now we've bonded. She introduces me to all her friends, and within minutes I've rubbed a few shaved heads and learned how to open a beer with a lighter. A cute guy named Bubba has his arm around my waist while I smoke a cig he bummed for me. The kids in the yard below us are wailing a hard-core a cappella version of some Journey song, and all is right with the world.

More good news for this weekend

Daily Love for April 14, 2007
Provided by Astrology.com

Daily Flirt:
Fate or free will? A sign could drive itself nuts contemplating the question too closely. It might be a crazy cocktail of both. The stars can push you in a certain direction, but only you can decide how you get there.

Daily Couples:
Draw on your deepest instincts when deciding how to surprise your partner today. The odds are good that you will come up with something nearly perfect!

Daily Singles:
Why go with the flow when you can channel some fabulous romantic energy right where you want it? You can use your bountiful charms to make sweet stuff happen now -- and you'll never know unless you try.

A tale of two streets - The Boston Globe

My office is in this area, and I agree -- Congress Street wins! The street is way more comfortable and human-scaled (at least it will be when all the construction is done), the cars don't speed down the street at highway velocity, the kids from the Children's Museum are adorable, the bars and cafes are cuter. And, though they threw someone off the roof of one of our buildings in The Departed, they're not doing that anymore, so it's much safer, too!

Today's forecast

Daily Love for April 13, 2007
Provided by Astrology.com

Daily Flirt:
Emotions can be overwhelming, but remind yourself to breathe through it and that change can -- and will -- happen. Allowing yourself to feel something in its entirety guarantees that you won't end up stuck there.
[Breathe, what? That's actually been troublesome, love-wise, of late, so good advice.]

Daily Couples:
Your romantic instincts are strong. Now's the time to find a new way to show or tell sweetie how you really feel. They will be blown away by your passionate energy.
[I think I've been pretty good lately about being honest with how I feel, and I don't know how much more I would want to blow anyone away. Blown away sounds too much like "away" for my comfort, but I'll keep trying...]

Daily Singles:
You're bewitching, beguiling and not in the least bewildered, if the stars have their say. The right thing to say, the right move to make, the right place to be -- it's all occurring to you as if by magic.
[Magic! I'm telling you, it's all going to work out. I swear.]

Sunday Times with the Lumberjack

Lumberjacks are everywhere, it's not just me.

I know, you want me to embed the video, not just link to it. But YouTube is giving me a hard time (maybe because I once worked for Viacom?).

Put your money where my mouth is

Hey there, my loving and loyal audience!

Remember when we debated whether I should go back to NPR? And you were all for it?

Remember how this brilliant artist, who should know a thing or two about culture, started getting all insistent that I get myself on the radio, or find myself a public forum in which to tell my stories? He wants me to be the next Spalding Gray, the witty, frantic voice of my generation, but without the personal neuroses, depression and suicide.

Remember that an impartial measure determined that I have a good voice for tv and radio? Because I do!

Well dig this, baby -- the time has come to put it all to the test.

The Public Radio Talent Quest!

Check out my profile, and give me suggestions on how to improve it. Then pass the link around and spread the word, and when the time comes, Vote Early and Often! When I'm all Public Radio famous, I won't forget who helped me get there, and I'll share your stories with the world (with your permission, of course!)

This is your song

JodiRoadie wrote a song for me! Yes, this is about George, yes, he was going to build me a house of strawberries, yes, there was a barn, but it was to be full of artichokes, not sunflowers. Hard to rhyme "Artichoke" though...

I love it!

Getting around

Christ, I just read Bostonist for all my music recommending needs. They know what I like and how to make me happy.

Globe cuts 24 newsroom jobs in buyout - The Boston Globe

I'm so sad to hear that Eileen McNamara took the buyout (god I love her, I was so happy when she won the Pulitzer). But, on the flip side, restaurant critic Alison Arnett is also leaving, which means there's hope for me yet! Wish I had some clips ready, but at the very least, there might be an opportunity for some freelance work, to get my foot in the door.

Impeach him TWICE!

Buckle on those balls....

Ramen! Ramen! Ramen!

It's not always bad to have soup on your lapel (though I'd prefer it on my cell phone).

Nappy Perfection

"Everyone, no matter how high-strung, has the capacity to nap."

You hear that, Haneway?

mmmm, I could use one right now....

Daily Scope

Daily extended (by Astrology.com)
Wherever you go today, you will be able to effortlessly put your special mark on things. All you have to do is speak your mind in your usual clever way, and don't let yourself get intimidated by anyone. This is a great time for you, because you are full of unique ideas and a fierce charm that could bring a marble statue to life! The role of entertainer is becoming more and more comfortable to you, and you should explore ways to spend a little more time in the spotlight. People want more of you.

Well, this works. I spent the day in meetings at the paper, where I charmingly convinced people to change their workflow to dovetail with my larger goals for my projects and content development. And I was magnificent.

Weekly romance (by Astrology.com)
You're on a self-improvement kick this week. Monday and Tuesday you're focused on your body -- a new yoga class, a new cardio routine, something like that. Wednesday and Thursday you're focused on a relationship -- most likely a romantic one, although if you're not with anyone right now it could be a friend or ally. In any case, this relationship needs a fresh jolt. Do something brave together. Friday and Saturday have nothing to do with romance, although dinner in an unusual spot (a great date idea) figures on Sunday.

Again, pretty on-target. I started rock-climbing on Tuesday, and tonight I meet with the personal trainer. Focused on a relationship? Hah, That's pretty much been my week. Crying report: none yesterday, and I actually slept last night. Crying started again today, and also, unfortunately, the dead hope tried to resurrect itself. That's a bad idea; it's better off dead.

Fortunately, a new flirtation just presented himself; cute, sweet, smart, interesting, and taller than either the Lumberjack or the Cap'n. Unfortunately, I mentioned the Cap'n to a mutual acquaintance, and he immediately guessed his real identity. I'd love to know how he knew that (has he talked to the Cap'n? Had I tipped my cards some other way?), but it's not possible to simultaneously deny and delve in a situation like that.

but on the plus side...

(I keep thinking of really clever titles, but then as soon as I set down to type up a post -- whoosh, they're gone, and you're left with cliches...)

As I was saying, the good side of heartbreak keeps showing up:
1. Feeling something is good.
2. Although it would seem to be too soon for the nausea to be having any effect, my pants are way looser this morning.
3. Started working on a long-dormant screenplay again today, and also have a book idea to work on with my intern. We are going to be such a cute, charming and telegenic pair that everyone will want us on their talk shows. And you know that talk-show circuit = Green room hanging = meeting cute with My Husband backstage.
4. I feel gorgeous. And it's not just me who thinks so -- I've been complimented on both my hair and my teeth today, by two people. And the teeth got lots of attention yesterday too! Heartbreak is the latest whitening advance; someone tell Crest!

To stick with the theme, I was At the Good Pain for lunch today.

Tears of a Clown

Woke up nauseated. And hot-faced.
Cried in the shower again. Hoping I won't do that at work.
For now, the interns are taking care of me, giving me pep talks and letting me figuratively cry on their shouldners over IM.

But as miserable as I am, it's good to know that I still have a heart to break. I've had my share of crushes over the years, but I can't remember the last time I acutally cried over losing a guy. In a strange way, it feels good to be hurting like this.

Libertine

There has been a liberation. Free at last and all that jazz.

No, I don't really feel that good about it yet. The parts of today when I wasn't actually in tears, I wanted to be, but put on the brave face to be polite (in drunken company). Thank God for Eighties Dave, who perfectly called at just the right moment for me to cry on his shoulder. And that's fine; I need to cry more anyhow. Also spread the wealth among the many fine sturdy shoulders available to me, not lean on Von quite so much.

Things have changed, finally, in the PN firmament. Shaken up. Even Catmandoo isn't mooning around all lovesick and predictable anymore. Time has come for me to fall into step with the Revolution. I'm going to cast my attentions on someone who deserves them, like maybe the Captain. After all, if that Tarot card reading is going to come true, I need to be a good girl between now and August. Less aspiration, more appreciation.

Funny, before I started writing, I thought I had wittier, pithier things to say. So much for a 4 a.m. miracle; maybe I'll try again in daylight.

And yes, I know that's not what "libertine" means; call it poetic license.

Beware the fucking Ides of March

I have an ancestor who was a general in Julius Caesar's army. It must be his blood; I always have trouble on the Ides.

And the day is living up to the terrible expectations:

• After a crappy date (he didn't even know what the Ides of March is), I fell asleep on the couch, as Siena needed some cuddling. Woke up at 6:45 this morning
  
• Went to bed because I feel it's important to spend some time in my bed each night. Overslept.
  
• Went straight to the paper, as I didn't have time to stop by my office first. Parked in front as
  
  
  1. I don't work there and I am allowed to use that guest parking
     
  2. I was only going to be there for 20 minutes.
  
  Regardless, I got yelled at by the front desk guy, who threatened to have me towed because I didn't park in back.
  
• Calendar staff got mad at me because their work is STILL not exporting correctly into the website. Like I'm not already miserable about this and have been trying to get it fixed for months-- now they're yelling at me too?
  
• Late for meeting with traffic folks, my car got ticketed, and I was cranky during the meeting. But I pulled it together, and was charming enough that they want to give me a helicoptor ride.
  
• New seating chart has me sitting next to the guy who makes the wierd bird noises. I am appealing it to HR.
  
• The mammogram department has been trying to reach me for two days; they finaly caught me just now. They found a cyst and need me to go back and make sure everything's normal. Which it will be, I'm not worried, just annoyed. More of my time getting used up. At least they're very nice.
  
• I want the Captain, tonight (he claims to owe me a spanking; how nice to not have to be the one in charge). But haven't heard anything from him today, and he hasn't flirted since last week. Considering how things have been going today, I'd say it's not the day for a bold move on my part.

That said, I am surprisingly chipper. And so looking forward to Chez Henri tonight!

Shins on Segways

'Nuff said.

It's not Lupus

Just got back from the doc. Not lupus, not rosacea, not any other gross-sounding skin ailments from legendary 1960's ad campaigns. Definitely not leprosy.

It is some obscure and hella strong allergic reaction, so I'm seeing another specialist, still on scary meds, still can't wear makeup, in fact have to avoid more stuff. Apparently even baby shampoo and Cetaphil are too risky for me right now, until we figure out what's the cause.

Thanks all for your concern and support, I really appreciate it. Oh, but the stitches did pull loose too early, and the biopsy site is still healing. So no poking me in the chin, okay?

Surprise bonus Gothic Industrial fun on Friday

When the Downbeat 5 were sold out at the Middle East Friday, Von and I swung around the corner to see what was shaking at TT's. I laughed when I saw the flyer for Goth Night, and had to check it out. We ended up having a great time, and I'm all excited to go back next week!

Also ran into my former intern, for added strangeness points.

Another point for the Baby Psychic

Back in January, I sent the following e-mail to the Fug Girls regarding Salma Hayek's performance announcing the Oscar nominees:

Wait, you only had issue with Salma's bangs at the Oscar noms announcement? I was watching that yesterday, and as soon as she walked out, my first thought was "Ohh, the Fug Girls are going to have something to say about that maternity dress/muu-muu/whatever that is she's wearing..." Then I had to click back through to what she wore to the Golden Globes to make sure she isn't *actually* pregnant.

Yet, I was a little suspicious of all that draping in front of the bump-prone area.

Seriously, don't ever doubt my baby psychicness. Salma Engaged & Expecting; so says E!

D, let me know when you get the results next week. I think I'm feeling it's a girl.

Pants. On. Fire.

indexed: Hot.

Rawk out

Just got my little Boston-area concert update (maybe not so surprisingly, I don't actually get it from my employer...)

Anyone interested in checking out any of these shows?

• Rhett Miller, Friday, Mar 9, Paradise Rock Club
  
• Pete Yorn, Monday, Mar 19, Avalon
  
• The Decemberists, Friday, Mar 23 & Saturday, Mar 24, Avalon
  
• Lucinda Williams, Saturday, Mar 24, Orpheum Theatre
  
• Bloc Party, Wednesday, Mar 28, Orpheum Theatre
  
• Aqualung, Tuesday, Apr 17, Paradise Rock Club
  On Sale Sat, 3/10 at 12 pm
  
• Shawn Mullins, Tuesday, May 15, Paradise Rock Club
  

Support Britney Spears!

She needs us now more than ever. And Wesleying isn't the only one on the Save Britney bandwagon...

Daler Mendhi and Brown U

Brown University had a video contest. The winners get first pick in the housing lottery. These kids did a frame-by-frame parody of Daler Mendhi, and they feature Ruth Simmons!

An evolving lexicon of inclusivity

I like the gender-neutral pronouns and the shout-out to old Wes, of course. But I also appreciate the implied permission to say "black" again. Many of my black friends have Caribbean ancestry, and some are not American, so "African American" never sat well with me.

Whew, glad we got that resolved!

A Life Less Ordinary

TK

These Days

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking these days.
These days.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.

I've stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling these days
These days.
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'll see another highway.

I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another these days
These days.
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long.
La la la la la, la la.

I've stopped my dreaming,
I won't do too much scheming these days
These days.
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten.
Please don't confront me with my failures,
I had not forgotten them.

I first heard 10,000 Maniacs sing this song on several beloved mix tapes in high school. According to the Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack, it was originally sung by Nico.

Tonight I heard Mates of State perform it, during a show that gave me the latest in a chain reaction of little epiphanies. More to come soon, but These Days, my life is changing fast. If you blink, you might be left wondering where I went.

What I learned from TV

I'm going to see This American Life, live and in color, tonight!

A few points of order:

1. I'm getting tired of sending out e-mails to everyone, trying to get folks to do fun things with me. I do fabulous things, and I am excellent company, but I can have fun on my own. And Julie the Cruise Director has a thankless job. So I'm aiming for fewer e-mails, and in their stead I will post my plans here. If something interests you, leave a comment, or pop an e-mail.

2. I am an idiot. As the article didn't mention where to get tix, I googled, and I ended up at one of those reseller places. Only I didn't know it was a reseller, until my ticket arrived and it had someone else's name on it, and a way lower price...

Get schooled

As a former teacher in the Boston Public Schools, I can assure you that they need all the help they can get. So you should definitely get yourself over to this benefit tomorrow night, and enjoy the fine fine music. Maybe you'll also get to see me flirting with a cute musician, if the mood strikes.

Come on, do it for the kids.

(PS: Blogger ate this post as well, had to re-write. Does anyone know what's going on? I keep getting title fields with empty posts below them...)

Planet of the Apes

Chimps are making weapons, and it's the females who are taking this bold leap forward. Slate's take, and I like it (of course) is that "the same adversity that makes humans superior to other animals at innovation also makes females superior to males". Some of us might go so far as to say that is old news.

What JC needs

Oh, Jonathan.... we all need a monkey!

Bostonist: Breaking the Lenten Cannon

Bostonist: Breaking the Lenten Cannon

All about the Seth Cohen

A little bit of pop culture algebra:

I love Seth Cohen.

Matthew Gilbert loves Seth Cohen.

I love Matthew Gilbert.

(I hear he's gay, or maybe married -- or both! Yay, Massachusetts! -- but all my favorite men are, so what's the diff?)

Don't cry for me, Bahamanians!

The latest decision in the ever-more-complex Anna Nicole saga came down today, and I have two questions:

1. Why was the judge crying as he delivered the verdict?
2. Why is her body decomposing faster than expected?

This story just keeps giving and giving. It's got it all -- love, sex, money, death, intrigue, politics (she won before the Supreme Court, don't forget), international diplomacy. Man, if I were still in the newsroom, I would feel Like His Girl Friday right now...

Houston Livestock Show And Rodeo!

I'm off to see me some Beyonce on a flatbed!

Were You Caught in the Viacom Takedown?

The Electronic Frontier Foundation is using YouTube to get back at Viacom!

If your videos or account got wiped out in the melee, which turns out to have been a first volley in Viacom's new partnership with a YouTube competitor, then talk to the EFF about your predicament.

(PS - while we're talking about free hosted platforms that eat your content, this post sucks because Blogger lost what I'd originally posted, which was way wittier, I assure you.)

Hook me up

No, of course it's not healthy. Unless you're a New Yorker, maybe.

But if you do somehow manage to have a relationship, here's a handy guide to breaking up in a Web 2.0 world. My only quibble? They tell you lots of ways to protect you from the other person, but only a few ways to protect you from yourself...

And if it gets really bad? You can always go over to the other side; it's better for the kids anyway.

Valentine never sent

I'm a jam tart, I'm a bargain basement,
I'm a work of art, I'm a magic casement,
A coal cellar, an umbrella, a sewing machine,
A radio, a hymn book, an old french bean,
I don't know what I am,
You've put a spell on me.

I'm a dog's nose, I'm Sir Humphrey Davy,
I'm a Christmas rose, I'm the British Navy,
A motor, a bloater, a charcoal grill,
An octopus, a towpath, Hindenburg's will,
A villiage fair, a maiden's prayer, the BBC, a pram –
I don't know what I am,
You've put a spell on me.

I'm a salmon, I'm a starting pistol,
I'm backgammon, I'm the Port of Bristol.
A Times leader, a child's feeder, an aspirin,
The Ritz Hotel, a boy scout, the wages of sin,
A shaving brush, a schoolgirl's crush, the letter B, a ham –
I don't know what I am,
You've put a spell on me.

I'm an off–break, I'm a clump of beeches,
I'm a tummy ache, I'm Mussolini's speeches,
I'm Balmoral, I'm a sorrel mare, I'm a tug
A cigarette, an organ, a big bed–bug
A traffic sign, a rubber mine, a coffee tree, O damn –
I don't know what I am,
You've put a spell on me.

-- W.H. Auden

Prehistoric Romeo and Juliet found

"Archaeologists have unearthed two skeletons from the Neolithic period locked in a tender embrace and buried outside Mantua, just 25 miles south of Verona, the romantic city where Shakespeare set the tale of Romeo and Juliet. Buried between 5,000 and 6,000 years ago, the prehistoric pair are believed to have been a man and a woman and are thought to have died young, as their teeth were found intact, according to Elena Menotti, the archaeologist who led the dig."

Lovesick Monkey Valentine!

Remember how I said I was going to buy me some art?

I did! I did! Wanna see?

Also, Haneway sent me a most excellent monkey-themed valentine card, complete with monkey bookmark/paperclips inside! I swear, this is going to be the best VDay ever!

Even though no one loves me and I am going to grow old alone and sad. But I'll always have my friends. And monkeys! Monkeys, I say!

Approaching the Golden Boar

This weekend is the Lunar New Year. We are entering the Year of the Golden Boar (a special kind of Year of the Boar that happens every 60 years -- thanks for the info, TK!) Apparently this is a particularly fortuitous year in which to be born, so if you're not currently pregnant, get cracking! You've got only two more months to plant a seed! (Will this affect my vacation scheduling? Hard to say...)

Poking around Wikipedia (love Wikipedia!) I looked up my Chinese horoscope, and found out that I am a Metal Dog:

Metal is one of the five elements of Chinese alchemy. The archetypal metal is silver. Metal is associated with the west and autumn, the planet Venus and the colour white. It is believed to govern the lungs. It is associated with organization and stability. Other qualities associated with metal are unyieldingness, persistence, strength and determination. The metal person is forceful and set in their ways as metal is very strong, but they are self-reliant and enjoy the good things in life. The element metal plays an important role in Chinese Astrology and feng shui, the Chinese form of geomancy.

Like his animal namesake, [the dog] is Loyal with a capital "L". He is the one who people are most likely to turn to when they need help. The dog person will come through every time. That is because he/she is sensitive to others and empathizes with them, particularly if someone has suffered an injustice; he/she reacts quickly with the same feeling as though he/she had been personally offended. Friends know that they can rely upon their Dog friend to keep a promise or remain cool in a crisis.

Dog types are honest, intelligent and straightforward. They will take on any responsibility that is given to them and you can be sure that they will do their job well.

People born in this year tend to be difficult, upset and shocked more often than the other signs.

The dog is loyal, unselfish, and idealistic. They can sometimes be worriers and overly critical. Dogs go best with tigers and horses. Their friends are other dogs, tigers (also Von), horses and rabbits (Haneway). Dogs get along worst with Dragons, whom they perceive as arrogant and all flash with no substance.

Dogs have a yang polarity. Bill Clinton and David Bowie are dogs! (but we knew that, right?)

You Won't Be Single For Long

Thanks, Rachael Ray, for trying to solve our love woes with pasta. Why didn't I think of that sooner?

So long, Anna Nicole Smith

Holy crap! Anna Nicole Smith dies after collapsing at South Florida hotel.

Well, that's one way to get the astronaut love triangle off the front page.

Store to send lobsters gently into that good pot - The Boston Globe

See, this is why I love being back in Boston. We write literary headlines about grocery stores.

Spanking the kitty

And I thought Siena was strange with her nursing-on-cashmere obsession....

DIEpods!

I told you that iPods in public are dangerous!

(I do love, however, the side note that we are better than men at multitasking. So true. I once, once, drove with the Bachelor, and he simultaneously annoyed me with his timidity and scared the shit out of me with his incompetence. This was a man who totaled his car because he was changing the CD. I, on the other hand, can talk on the phone, eat a slice of pizza, and change the radio, all while driving my stick shift like a NYC cab driver -- or, as Dad likes to say, like Mario Andretti.)

Bostonist is spying on me

I am a bad blogger.

On February 1, I posted the following to a mailing list I'm on, regarding the Mooninites:

The best part is that they'd been up already for a few weeks, but someone only noticed them yesterday, triggering the panic.

Honestly, even if our noble leaders (dammit, I used to be a fan of Mumbles Menino, never thought he'd be so knee-jerk idiotic) do succeed in getting Turner to "reimburse" the $750K in "expense" that the stupid stupid law enforcement folks incurred upon themselves (god, I used to love Boston cops too, nice old-school central casting Irish types, call you "sweetheart" as they give you directions and such, dammit this sucks), and even if Turner agrees to pay it, which they surely will...

That's damned CHEAP for all the coverage and bonus advertising they've been getting. This is better than 30 seconds of Superbowl time, and what's the rate for that this year? 2.4 MILLION per spot? $750K for days and days of coverage, introducing Frylock to whole new audiences... I wonder what the ratings will be like this week.

Right after I mailed that out, I considered cutting and pasting it into a blog post, but then had actual work to do, and never got around to it. Then everyone and their mother was writing about it, and it seemed like old news, so I didn't bother.

But then last night, Bostonist posts a follow-up story about the Turner pay-out, and they make the very same point that I did about the free advertising. Now, I know that my point wasn't particularly profound, but here's the thing -- they linked to the very same two-year-old CNN story about Super bowl ad rates that I referenced!

Had I actually posted it here, I would have thought they were loyal readers and were lifting off me. But I didn't post, so I can only conclude that someone over there must be subscribing to the same obscure discussion list in New Jersey!

Serves me right for being lazy.

1-31-2007 Never Forget

Some of you heard me raging about our terror-fueled folly last week. I could go on about how I'd feel safer if our law enforcement showed a bit of judgment, but I think I'll just let the Voice speak for me for now...

Back in the Saddle

Get your high-res Potter porn here.

Google Patents brings you . . .

Monkeys in Spa-a-a-ace!

In an increasingly customizable world...

Today, the Suzuki in front of me on the highway had an annoying bumper sticker. As soon as I saw it, I instinctively reached for the car radio -- to what? Change the channel on the Sidekick? Tivo forward and skip it?

I think so! I think it was like when you reach for the remote when an ad comes on tv. If I were a coffee drinker, I'd be tempted to explain this behavior with "I hadn't had my first cup yet," but that's no excuse for me. I had seen an alarm clock last night that changes the color of the case when you tap the side; maybe that was it? Honestly, I think we've gotten to the point where we expect to be able to modify every aspect of our existence...

Vital Signs

I had dinner and musical entertainment in Lowell last night. Today the Globe did a big splashy feature on how hip and fabulous it is.

Maybe I'll spend more time up there, or maybe familiarity will breed contempt. I am so hard to please, aren't I? But I'm still in love with the house, so that's one thing in the plus column.

Grab your dick and double-click

Or, why Maggie can't get a date...

thisguy: i havent played D&D since middle school
thisguy: but i got hooked on WoW a little over a year ago
maggieb: I played D&D once
maggieb: in junior high
thisguy: you know what WoW is?
maggieb: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWEjvCRPrCo
thisguy: ...
thisguy: whats your deal exactly?
thisguy: do you have to know everything?

Please ignore, for the moment, that familiarity with a silly little YouTube video does not equate with knowing everything. This guy has been trying to get a date with me for over a week now. I am totally not interested, but was trying to be nice, maybe give him a chance. Want to know a great way to piss off a smart chick? Be annoyed that she's smart. I was only trying to entertain him with that link, and he got all defensive. But I took the high ground, and kept talking:

maggieb: no, I do not know everything
maggieb: but yes, I like to be as aware and informed as possible
maggieb: as I am an entertainment journalist
thisguy: mm hmm
maggieb: what, do you find it obnoxious that I need to know everything?
thisguy: no, not at all
thisguy: impressive and somewhat intimidating perhaps
maggieb: intimidating, great
maggieb: well, then I won't tell you about my most brilliant idea I had at work today, that will transform Boston as we know it.

And I didn't. And now he'll never get to fulfill his 20-year-old dream to date the prom queen. The last thing any accomplished, independent professional woman wants hanging around is a Berger.

(By the way, my new idea for work is absolutely brilliant, but also totally top secret. And it might take like a year or more to implement, so don't hold your breath. But I promise I'll tell you about it as soon as I can.)

(Oh, wait, no I can't, because then you'd know where I work...)

Joe Mathlete is my new hero

I'm getting me some art.

Underpants Manifesto

Gentlemen, your groins will thank you.

Ninjas, aging, and family chitchat

IMing with my cousin today:

maggieb: nice talking to you, however briefly, last night
maggieb: So what was that character's name?
DCP: Usagi Yojimbo
maggieb: and who was he?
DCP: to be entirely correct, the character was the star of his own comic book series, and he only guest-starred with the ninja turtles every once in a while
DCP: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Usagi_Yojimbo
maggieb: you are a font of knowledge
maggieb: love you
DCP: love ya too
DCP: font of useless geeky knowledge
DCP: I certainly hope this info helps you win a bet or something
maggieb: well, after my bowling pratfall last night
maggieb: I need to contribute something worthwhile to the team
maggieb: You know how I used to complain that I was old?
maggieb: now I actually am
maggieb: I have injured my hip in a BOWLING accident!

I have a good voice for TV and radio.

Well, at least that part is true.

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland   "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
Boston
Philadelphia
The Northeast
The West
The South
The Inland North
North Central
What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

This is absolutely hysterical, because people are always shocked when I tell them I'm from Boston. "But you don't have a Boston accent!" (when I moved back home, a few New Yorkers said they could hear the change in my speech, but I think they were full of it.) Honestly, I can't even fake it; I've tried. And there are a few different Boston accents anyway, from Brahmin to Townie. I don't have either of those, but I do speak like everyone from my hometown, namely Upper Middle Class Suburban, with a touch of Snob.

Funny thing is, I talked this way even before I moved to said suburb when I was 10. When I was younger, in a Townie-talking area, I just didn't sound like the other kids. And in high school, I'd go to parties with my South Shore godsister, and her friends would ask where I was from, not able to believe that I was from the nearby North Shore. (not to say that how I talk is a North Shore accent; the next town over sounds Townie.)

I did a study on this for a college Linguistics course. My conclusion? Like everything else in Boston, how you speak is a factor of socioeconomic status, not geography.

DreamFug

As funny as the the Fug Girls are, and as gorgeous as Jennifer Hudson does look... why is no one ever mentioning that Mr. award-winner there is pulling a Stephen Bing act (in case you're wondering, it's the opposite of a class act) on Mel B. What, is he getting a pass on his boorish behavior?

Peculiar Aristocracy

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:

Grand Duchess Magdalena the Sonorous of Throcking in the Hole

Appearances can be appropriate

Funny how this looks a little like the bachelor, a man of similar temperament.

Another reason to give up younger men

And horses too, I guess.

"I treasure things like an aged balsamic..."

This kid Jake is 10 years old! I like truffles too, but thank God I'm not bringing my kids up in New York...

Spock's left hand

Stop shuddering; you know you're laughing too.

I love a Haiku

I’m considering
Giving up casual sex:
I hate the subway.

Fight the Idiocracy!

Slate says I need to have a baby right now!

Globe and Maggie have a Love/Hate Relationship with Street Art

Why, just a few days ago, I pontificated to the Lumberjack on why I hate graffiti and prefer street art, though I claimed that Pixnit isn't much of an artist either, more of a wallpaper designer:

So that article we were talking about at PN last week...

I hadn't noticed until he was commenting on the follow-up in his blog, but it was written by the guy who sits next to me in the office, an A&E producer who also does some music reviews and writes for the music blog. I find his writing kind of impenetrable, though I do admire his ambition and enormous work ethic -- he's even writing for Slate now on occasion.

Personally, I find the whole debate kind of pretentious. I think graffiti is almost never art, and the outlaw nature that defines it rarely gives it any additional cred in my estimation. The exception that proves the rule, of course, being Banksy, but his stuff makes a real commentary or satire on public space, using the location as part of the message, not just as a canvas.

The best of this, the stuff on the Israeli/Palestine barrier wall, puts this chick's random wallpaper stencils to shame. And other of his stuff works just fine in a gallery, and doesn't need any additional cred from being illegal and subversive.

Eh, I just get so tired of people with no talent giving themselves a false importance, and graffiti "artists" are some of the worst offenders.

I really want to write for Bostonist. Maybe I should add that to the resolutions list I still have to post for you all...

Happy Christmas Tree truck

This morning, I saw the Somerville Chirstmas tree truck -- a Sanitation pick-up full of discarded Christmas trees. It was a lovely sight, and now I find out that it's an environmentally friendly thing, too. I swear, I live in the coolest city!

But, as yesterday was a wierd time warp of a day, I never got around to taking down my tree, so no wit will have to wait another week for my next trash disposal day.

Fuckin' MEASLES!

Spent the day at the paper today. It was exhausting and torture, as usual.

When I got back to my office, the following message was in my inbox:

All employees should be aware that earlier today one of our employees at the [paper's] production department’s inserting facility (Mailroom) has been diagnosed with a case of measles, which is a highly contagious disease.

This employee was in the building today between the hours of 7:30am and 1:00pm, when he visited the Medical Dept to check out symptoms. The information that we currently have is that the employee entered the building and reported to the mailroom where he remained until he walked down to the medical dept at 1:00. The employee was taken to a local medical clinic where he was tested and diagnosed. The Globe was notified at approximately 4pm.

Measles is an airborne virus that remains infectious for up to 2 hours. The recommendation is for those exposed and born after 1957 consider getting the MMR (Measles, Mumps and Rubella) vaccine within 72 hours of exposure.

If you choose to be treated, please go to the most convenient place: the [paper's] medical department, your local clinic or your primary care provider.

The medical department is open and will have the vaccine available Friday at 9pm.

Please call the medical department at 617-xxx-xxxx with any questions or for further information.

The following is the link to the CDC’s site about measles. http://www.cdc.gov/nip/diseases/measles/default.htm

I just called them; the nurse from the CDC is already there with the vaccines, so I'm on my way over. But Jesus Christ, measles?! I had chicken pox when I was 23, and it was three weeks of hell. And I've been having enough itching problems of late.

So now you've been warned; measles is going around Boston.

More from the Reformation of a Product Whore

No fear, I'm not allergic to cashmere. Apparently, I'm not actually allergic to much, except for that beloved conditioner. But I might be reacting to items in combination, or I might just be irritated from too much crap.

And I'm not the only one. After the Wonder Twins mocked my plans for a great product giveaway, saying I should just keep everything and use it again when my skin calms down, Y found this article on The Cosmetics Restriction Diet, where dermatologists are asking their patients to do exactly what I've decided to do on my own.

Me and the Zeitgeist, baby! Also, please note that they featured Cetaphil, my new preferred cleanser.

PS: Funny story about the allergist. When the rash returned, I told him that the only item I'd reintroduced, per his one-new-thing-a-week instructions, was the Differin.

"What's that?" he asked.
"A retinoid, like Retin-A"
"Maggie, why are you using that? You're way too young to be using retinoids already."
"No, doctor, I'm not that young. (he checks my chart.) "I may look it, but that's because I'm using the retinoids!

He laughed and conceded defeat.

Buckaroo Spy

John Parker, who I love, is also Marcus Dixon, who I also love!

Built-in Idea

Hmm, maybe I could do this under my stairs across from the bathroom.

I know, first I have to finish building the upstairs closet and buy some furniture. But eventually I'm going to have to figure out where to put all my knicknacks.

But speaking of buying furniture... I might ditch the whole High Point idea and just order from Crate&Barrel&Room&Board. I want to start living in that house,and not be perpetually moving in.

Relax and take your time

So my friends named their new baby Lucy Alice. Go ahead and say that out loud a couple of times.
loo-see-al-iss
loo-see-al-iss
Lou Cialis.

I'd like to point this out to them before they baptize her, but I suspect that I should just keep my mouth shut. The early days of new parenthood are stressful enough, and this way she's already got something to hate them for when she hits adolescence.

Bang bang bang

Lots of shocking news over our British gossip wire today:

BANG! Justin and Cameron have broken up. (now he's after Scarlett Johansson, what? Oh, poor Britney!)

BANG! The O.C. has been cancelled. (sad, but not surprising, really, though I haven't seen this season yet.)

BANG! Paris Hilton has stopped sleeping with men, but now shares her bed with a monkey. (copycat bitch, monkeys are my thing!)

BANG! Kevin Federline hit on Lindsay Lohan, then called her "Firecrotch" when she turned him down. (Speaking of copycats. And does this man have any idea of how worthless he is in Hollywood? Come on, that wet rat making moves on the Ann-Margret goddess beauty of our day? Hah!)

Howlin' Miller

"if there's one thing a modern woman wants, I think, it's to appear as though she has just escaped from the clutches of Evil Headmaster Wackford Squeers, who beat her more than the rest of the foundlings simply because she kept trying to organize group readings of Naked Lunch."

Don't Hassel the Hoff

It has recently come to my attention that some of you don't know about the Amazon Cult of David Hasselhoff, so enjoy those customer reviews and Happy New Year!

(For more in humorous Amazon reviews, please also see the Vulcan's favorite, Ping the Duck.

Not Constantinople

I speak Italian, so do they. Anyone want to go to Istanbul with me?

Google wishes and Blogger dreams....

Mags: the other problem with blogger
Mags: and most blogs, as far as I can tell
Mags: is that it's not well searchable
Cred: very true
Mags: so I have like 6 years worth of content on this blog, and I can never find anything
Cred: I am surprised that people haven't all realized this now, but Google and Yahoo have done more than replace the dewy decimal system.. they have conditioned people to be able to find what they are looking for without a lot of wasted time/effort
Cred: newspapers, digital media, tv media... all of them should be Lexus-Nexus like searchable
Cred: and of course freaking blogs
Mags: I was never very good at lexis-nexis searching
Mags: I'm a bad searcher in general
Mags: Google saves me
Cred: google is so much better than everything, except:
Cred: 1) rear-wheel drive, manual tranmission, convertibles
Mags: 2. single-payer medical care
Cred: 2) midget KISS tribute bands
Cred: ooo your 2 is better than mine
Mags: sorry
Cred: no worries
Mags: but that's all I got. I was trying to come up with a good 3
Mags: but your 2 floored me!
Cred: well i was going to say coffee, but why take a good run and exaggerate too much right
Mags: hahahaa!
Mags: I'm posting this converation
Mags: just so you know
Mags: what do you want me to call you?
Cred: lol... it is yours as much as mine, just be sure to give me a cool screename that preserves my street cred
Cred: I leave that to your considerable creative prowess
Mags: fine, I'm calling you cred
Mags: for street cred
Cred: lol
Mags: and for your credulity in thiking I have any kind of prowess
Cred: perfect

Product Whore no more...

It all started out so simple. I was a poor grad student, and I was in love with this skin serum that cost about $50 a bottle (sounds almost cheap now!). When I realized that Prescriptives gave away nice-sized samples at every department store counter, I hit the malls. Around Christmas, I could get a year's supply of samples in half an hour -- three or four counters per mall, two or three people working each counter, and huge crowds meant no one noticed if I hit the same counter more than once. I would decant them into a clean glass bottle, and voilá -- full-sized serum for free.

I graduated and moved to New York, the nexus of both cosmetics counters and parties with gift bags. As an editor with an office in a hot downtown zipcode (marketers didn't know I ran a university computing mag) I soon found myself on the mailing and invite list for lots of beauty industry parties and give-aways. I was lucky, I always had larger apartments and more closet space than your average New Yorker, so I built up a fabulous stash. Ricky's was having a sale on Philip B hair products? Stock up! Bliss having an end-of-year clearance to make way for a new product line? Stock up! Bendel's invitation to a Christmas party with cocktails, snacks, and deluxe samples at every counter? I'm there!

Free stuff and great deals are addictive, of course. Say it with me girls -- Gift With Purchase. But once I started advancing in my career, I had more discretionary beauty funds, so I could actually pay for what I wanted. Anyway, the go-go 90's were over and there were fewer freebies and mini-burgers being passed around on silver trays in Bergdorf's basement. The quest for a deal may have passed, but the chase after new and high-end products continued. Bigelow's has a new product line? And it's half-price at Bath & Body Works? I'll take one of each, please!

When I moved into the new house, I refused to actually start sleeping there until the bathroom was fully set up and unpacked. I wanted supreme order in this new life. The products alone filled up an entire floor-to-ceiling cabinet, and the actual first-aid and medical items have been banished to the medicine cabinet in the guest bathroom. I was kind of ashamed (glass doors!), but my real estate agent, accustomed to his clients in the South End, said I had nothing to worry about.

And then the rash hit.

As skin peeled and flaked off my face, as the red itchiness spread across my neck, the nice allergist restricted me to nothing but plain Dove soap and baby shampoo for two weeks.

No moisturizer in the dead of winter? No conditioner, when my hairdresser just told me that my hair was severely crunchy, even though I just cut off six inches? No makeup for Christmas and New Years?!?!?!

No, no, no! Dove, baby shampoo, and a little hydrocortisone cream until the inflamation went down.

Cruel? Surprisingly not. My hair has never looked better -- soft, silky, shiny. My skin has almost totally normalized. Oh, the irony!

My dad fears that I've developed a chemical sensitivity. I don't know about that, but I think it's probably a good idea for me to dial it down, before I turn into one of those bubble-living freaks.

I'm in the midst of allergy testing right now, and we already know that I'm reacting to the hair conditioner I've been loyal to for years. Funny thing is, I don't use much on a daily basis. But when I gathered everything I'd used at least once in the past month, it was over 20 products!

So I'm going to change myself from a Product Whore into a pure, sensitive soul. Once the allergy testing is done, I'm packing up the bulk of my magnificent stash and dropping it off at a local women's shelter.

But before that happens, you, my beloved friends and loyal readers, get first dibs. Drop me a line and let me know when you want to stop by to rifle through the archives to my beautiful past.

PS: I just noticed that the rash is flaring up again on my face. Could it be possible that I'm allergic to cashmere, too? Oh, the injustice!

Crimefighters

They didn't list my favorite euphemism, "fighting crime," so I submitted it.

I gotta say, though, "playing cars and garages" is pretty brilliant too. Why do the best ones always sound British? Are there any good cockney rhyming euphemisms?

Weapons of egg destruction

So, folks are, understandably, a bit concerned about my plans to go off and get pregnant half-cocked (pardon the pun, it wasn't even mine!). They remind me that random sperm can have legal consequences down the road, and I should tread cautiously.

Well, according to Slate, I'd have better chances of a successful non-traditonal parenthood if I were a lesbian. And it's not the first time that's seemed liek the solution to all my problems, either, alas!

Pachelbel in hell

All pop music is the same, and a cello will never make you cool (though playing guitar is no guarantee either).

Who you calling "Ho ho ho"? (and stop stuttering)

Merry Christmas, my babies!

First Christmas in the new house was pretty easy, since my guests did all the cooking and cleaning, and all I did was decorate and serve drinks! But man, does this house look good with its halls decked.

Spent much of Christmas Eve teary-eyed, because I was trying to decide if I should marry the hippy and let him make me happy and secure, or if I should hold out for true love. Having run away from, or otherwise sabotaged, every chance at true love I've ever had, I maybe should not be trusted to make this decision for myself (though yes, Manda, I'm still heeding your advice and not dating by committee, so have no fear that I'll be putting up another Pick Maggie's Husband website!). Also, to be honest, hearing that Will rescinded his aversion to tradition and actually made it legal probably increased the sense of urgency for me. But the Mystical Smoking Head of Bob thinks that L will give me another chance, and I should try for real. Now I just need to figure out how to do that.

And for those of you keeping track, I finally paid my electric bill, and signed my Brooklyn renewal lease. Painless, in the end, and nice to start 2007 with a clean slate.

Gifted

Gave out gifts to the PubNight folks last night. It was fun. Von loved her dress, and Catmandoo was engrossed in the book on Banksy, who he had surprisingly never heard of. Y got nothing, which is actually an improvement over the coal he deserved for trying to sabotage the Holiday PN.

Lumberjack seemed pretty happy with the sweater, even though it wasn't the kind I really wanted to get him. Maybe I'll knit one for next year, as long as I finish the rest of the knitting queue first.

Monkey, monkey, fritos!

The results of the Code Monkey Remix Contest are in, and they are fabulous!

Because, of course, everything's better with monkeys.

Oldplay

SpinozaNY sent me this deeply touching video yesterday, as he remembered his mom on her birthday. I'll let him tell you about it:

A choral group of very senior citizens, called Young@Heart, sing pop songs. When a very heavy man, on an oxygen tank, sings with a backup group about how you can't go back, and you can't replace what you lost, it completely changes the meaning of Coldplay's "Fix You."

Women Unafraid of Condo Commitment

At least there's one kind of Commitment I don't run screaming from. Though considering how long I waited, and how much I feared getting a bad deal, I'm kind of a guy, too.

Shades of Bull Durham

Looks like Don Carman took some advice from Crash Davis, and prepped himself with some advance work.

Crash Davis: It's time to work on your interviews.
Ebby Calvin LaLoosh: My interviews? What do I gotta do?
Crash Davis: You're gonna have to learn your clichés. You're gonna have to study them, you're gonna have to know them. They're your friends. Write this down: "We gotta play it one day at a time."
Ebby Calvin LaLoosh: Got to play... it's pretty boring.
Crash Davis: 'Course it's boring, that's the point. Write it down.

Now I'd say that was my favorite scene, but who are we kidding? They're all my favorite scene.
Sigh, remember when Kostner was good?

Carman and Crash had something else in common, too. They respected the game and the fans.

Speaking of evil overlords...

The GFY girls are going a little googly over flight attendants.

Did I say overlords?...

...I meant protectors.

Jonathan Coulton posted a fabulous new video yesterday, so I ended up sending my Christmas e-cards early this year. When you check it out, don't forget to scroll down past the adorable Code Monkey to see the video.

Giving thanks for hypocrisy

There used to be 23 comments on the last post, which I've since deleted. For those of you unfamiliar with the players, a brief history:

Epenthesis is my friend Mike's blog. You may have seen him commenting on here once or twice, or met him at a party or PubNight. He's been being harassed in his comments for some time now by this ass who calls himself "Grossman." Recently Grossman has stepped up the harassment by insulting Mike's dead father.

I understand that those of us who blog are taking ourselves out of the private sphere, and by making our words public, we open ourselves up to attacks. However, there are millions of bloggers -- we're not that influential, and if you don't like what one of us says, there are plenty of others to choose from. So I don't understand why anyone would continue a campaign of harassment against someone they only know online.

And to do so under a shield of anonymity is just cowardly. When I post somewhere as Maggie, I always link back to this blog, so even if someone doesn't know who I am, at least they can have some context, and a place where they can respond to me. Grossman gives no such courtesy. He hides behind an unlinked username, since he can dish it out, but he can't take it.

A few days ago, when Mike was forced to step up his measures to block Grossman, I once again observed how pathetic G's behavior is. So he decided to target me as well. But I found it almost funny. After about a dozen comments, you'd think he'd have gotten as bored with his pathetic inanity as the rest of us were by then, but it was clear that he enjoyed listening to himself. So he continued, bragging about his ignorance and using nasty slurs, presumably because he thought it made him look like a big man (though he actually looked about 8 years old). We were all impressed at how he insulted himself every time he wrote something -- he did our work for us. The irony was comical: He harassed countless folks he doesn't even know, and never apologized to anyone for his behavior, all the while vociferously proclaming that we reap what we sow (so I wonder what kind of retribution he'll be getting). Truly, it was almost performance art.

Anyway, I post now to speak out against the assholes, but I'm not too comfortable giving them any kind of forum, so I deleted all the comments. If you ever see Grossman lurking around here, though, feel free to give him shit.

Scope of things to come

Today's Yahoo horoscope for Scorpio:

You'd rather be the power behind the throne, but the stars say your very special brand of magnetism needs to be front and center. So get in the limelight. You might find you have a knack for it!

Sounds like that's been the theme of late, reader-supported no less. So fine, I'll let the limes shine their light on me; it shouldn't take too long to get used to.

And I have a date tonight, but don't worry, I'm not going to bore you with the tedious details. Unless there's some public sex acts to relate, but this is Boston, who are we kidding?

I need a Shag

In my continued development as an art collector, I was going to buy this: reclining Italianesque hottie with a MONKEY, but it's alreayd been sold. Anyone know where I can get an art print, or how I could shamelessly manipulate this image to make it worth printing out for framing and display?

It's like they wrote it just for me

Get Fuzzy

Somervillionaires Rule!

I live in the best town ever, we are so cool. Check out what some of you might be getting for Christmas.

and I feel fine

God I still love R.E.M..

I need to find a barber in Natick

Quote from the staff meeting I just barely stayed awake for. DOn't know why that made me giggle so much.

What women want

My horoscope for today:

Now is a great time for you to get what you want out of life, whether it's a new sweetie, a better gig or just some peace and quiet for the day. You're filled with raw power and can use it however you want.

So what do I want? I have no idea. Yesterday I wanted a new job; today things are going more smoothly and my boss loves me. Monday A. joined me out for a birthday dinner, and it reminded me how much I still adore him and how he makes me laugh (despite his fixation with undergrads, but really, who am I to talk?); today I want to ask the Lumberjack to go furniture shopping with me. In North Carolina. Last week I was working on adding a shelf to my bedroom closet; this morning I seriously thought about switching to the downstairs bedroom.

Honestly, I never know what's best for me, and I think too much. I wish I could flop through life and let the cards fall as they will.

Ooh! In the spirit of post-election-day fabulousness (Democrats everywhere, no alcohol in the 7-11, yay gay marriage!, bye-bye Rumsfeld), and recalling the famous "Pick Maggie's Husband" vote of 1999 (I should really dredge up that website and archive it somewhere), let's have a ballot referendum. (yes, Auntie Amanda told me to stop dating by committee, and she had a point, but this is fun!)

Q1: Should I stay in the upstairs bedroom, or move downstairs?

Upstairs advantages -- upstairs, away from the rest of the house; large closet; bed's already up there.
Up disadvantages -- hot and stuffy; shares a wall with the upstairs apartment, I can hear them, and they can hear me (or they will if ever I get some play); no space for a double-wide dresser.
Downstairs advantages -- larger; closer to the bathroom; good feng shui; fits a wide dresser; upstairs kids won't hear me having sex over their Cheerios; I could use my old fabulous box spring.
Down disadvantages -- small closet; close to the rest of the house; I already bought a new split box spring for the upstairs bedroom.

Q2: Should I stick with it at the Paper of Record, or try to move to NPR?

Exposure and power versus intellectual cred and a sense of superiority. Also, do I want to be famous?

Q3: Wherever I stay, should I be trying for a byline or an on-air feature?

Would you want to hear my voice over your radio every afternoon, or maybe once a weekend like Ira Glass?

Q4: Does A get another chance, the next time he's free?

He is a serial monogamist, after all, you know he'll be looking for a new girlfriend five minutes after he breaks up with this one.

Okay, go! Vote early and often!

Britney Spears loses weight

Best news I've heard in weeks: Britney Spears files for divorce in LA. Ditch that freeloading baggage, baybee!

Malibu Barbie

How unhappy must I be with my dried-out post-beach hair, if I'm really liking how Courtney Love's is looking?

But you know, I can't help but love the girl. She's a mess, but she must be doing something right, considering how well Frances Bean is turning out. And the music continues to rock, Malibu is still one of my favorite albums. I might even read her new book.

As for fashion choices, I also prefer her messy to glam; she wasn't fooling anyone in that couture. And this is the best I've seen her skin, hair, nose and eyes in... ever. Maybe the Fug Girls are right, and the glasses make all the difference.