I finally found a swimsuit today! I was having a super hard time finding a one-piece that wasn't frumpy and old-ladyish. Apparently the young people only wear bikinis these days. Not that I am opposed, I just need something to wear in front of 25 potentially elderly Jewish folk and a rabbi. I always forget that I need to shop for clothes a full season in advance, because it would just be silly for stores to sell swimsuits in summer. Swimsuits are to be bought in February.

I'm reading "Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister" right now, which is by Gregory Maguire (the guy who wrote "Wicked.") The story is going along pretty well, and the typeface is huge, so I've gotten through 100+ pages in only about an hour or two of reading (spread out over the past two days). However, I absolutely hate the way this author writes. Both "Wicked" and "Confessions" are written at least in part from the point of view of women, and the author is just clueless. It's written like a romance novel, but without the sexy parts. It's as though he wants to write his books on a level that preteens can appreciate, but that adults can also appreciate on a more, uh, mature level. Assuming soppy innuendo is considered "mature." It's really a shame, because he comes up with decent stories. The story in "Wicked" was more interesting that "Confessions" is so far, but we'll see. More to come.

Arthur keeps sneezing...ew.

I've always loved going to the library. When I was growing up, my mom would take me and my sister to the library once a week and I never wanted to leave. My goal was to read every book the library had that was either written by Judy Blume or that was part of the "Babysitters Club" and "Saddle Club" series. I think I actually got through everything at one point, though I'm sure there have been new books in each category that were written after I turned 13. Anyway, the library was small and underfunded, but everyone respected the basic rules (no food or drink, and be quiet). Given the fact that I lived with an exceptionally noisy little sister, I particularly loved the silence.

Getting older has not altered my library-lovin'. Everywhere I've lived, I've sought out the local library in advance of moving there. Including foreign countries (where I was never even eligible for a library card). Some things never change - libraries will always suffer from a lack of funding, and they'll probably never let you bring in a hot dog. With the growing presence of cell phones, of course, libraries are becoming less and less a place of silence. Despite the signs posted everywhere in the library I go to in Alexandria, I overheard at least five cell phone conversations while I was there this morning. It's a small library; there's no way the librarians didn't hear the cell phones ringing (or the noisy conversations), and yet nothing was done to shush these people. What ever happened to the shushing? Plus, not once did I hear someone answer their phone and say "I can't talk, I'm in the library."

Another problem that I've noticed in two libraries (Arlington and Alexandria) is that the study areas have become havens for the homeless. I have absolutely no problem with homeless people coming to to escape the heat/cold, read a book, rest, whatever. So long as they do it quietly. But they don't. Well, at least the ones I've encountered don't (there are probably lots of quiet homeless people who hang out in libraries). When I still lived in Arlington, I went to the library one day to work on a writing project. All was well until a homeless man came in, sat down at the table next to me, took off his shoes, and started (very audibly) singing to himself. No one did anything, despite the fact that there was a librarian less than ten feet away. This morning I went to the library to work on my write-on dealie, and I hadn't been there five minutes when two homeless guys came in and started having a loud (and profanity-ridden) conversation. And again, there was a librarian nearby who didn't do anything.

I realize that public libraries are public places that everyone is entitled to be in. I just think that with that entitlement comes a responsibility to 1) obey the rules and 2) respect the people around you. It's really frustrating to seek out the quiet wonderment of your local library, just to find out that the librarians have forgotten how to shush.

I am a curmudgeon.

The website was down today because Adam broke it :) Routine maintenance my bum.

I did pretty much nothing today. I tried to do write-on stuff, but couldn't. I looked for a swimsuit but all the onesies sucked. Then I just watched a lot of TV.

I had a conversion class tonight, and the rabbi was talking about a collection of stories that have been published that didn't make it into either the Torah or the Apocrypha (sp?). I don't remember what the collection is called, but in describing the stories it contains, the rabbi said, "it makes whoever wrote Ezekial look like he was just on grass, instead of LSD." Heh. I haven't read Ezekial yet.

I also learned how to make martinis today! Adam has taken a liking to them, so I went to the liquor store to get gin. The guy who worked there told me that I also needed vermouth, and what ratio to use, and all that. I must say, I make a delicious dirty martini.

First, a quick law school rant. I've spent the day working on write-on stuff and now my wrists and head hurt. Wrists from typing...head from thinking. Obviously. At least this will all be over by next Tuesday, regardless of whether or not I'm able to actually write this casenote. Also, I'm supposed to get my last writing project back today, as well as my grade for the writing class. Of course, I doubt I will get either, because it's almost 5:00 and neither are in my email-box. This is not surprising; my writing professor doesn't have such a great track record for this sort of thing.

I know that by writing the word "first," I implied that I'd write about other topics...but...I cannot. Due to braindeath. I need to leave the apartment...I've been here all day. All day.

Note to Adam: the time stamp thingie is all messed up! It's 4:46pm.

I was contentedly watching Gilmore Girls when the doorbell rang.  Grumpily, I flumped down the stairs, wondering who dared to disturb me and the G-Girls.  It was the mail guy with a box...a box containing something I've been antsy for since April...it was..........PANDA SHOES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

  

Here's my yoga mat dealie!:

I am awesome.

Welcome to MY side of the blog!! The cool side!! Except, Adam said I'm not supposed to call it a blog. So...welcome to my side of the...internet superhighway journal.
Last night Adam and I saw Andrew Bird at the 9:30 Club. I had really high expectations, and they were met for about 3 songs. Then his schtick started to get a little old. If you're not familiar with Andrew Bird live shows, what he does is this: he'll start by playing some short little two or three bar part (usually on violin), which he records, then plays on a loop, recording more and more layers on top, until it sounds like a huge ensemble's worth of people playing (but it's just him, and at this concert, there was also a percussionist & a bass player) (Adam calls it a "wall of sound"). It's very cool to watch, even though the song setup takes as much time as the song itself. I just wish he didn't start EVERY song that way. It gets sorta tiring, and makes each song quite long. He played an hour and a half set, and then did an encore (but we left as it was starting...more on that in a minute). And, as much as I think Andrew Bird is an incredible musician, I sort of hate to actually watch him - he does a lot of weird and annoying flailing, and I don't like his hair. But, there was one point in the concert where he had a guiter slung around his back, his violin & bow in one hand, and was playing the xylophone with his other hand, aaaand whistling. And, of course, use his foot to hit the recording pedals.
What really put a damper on the concert was the a-holes around us. Adam and I were sitting on these stools up on the balcony, by the bar, and there was a couple on either side of us. On Adam's side was an older man - I'd say in his 40's or 50's, with a girl who looked to be in her 20's. On my side was a rather large woman with her boyfriend, who looked like a sleazy used car salesman, and kept touching the woman. The woman also really liked pink (shirt & purse) and cosmos. Both couples drank throughout the concert, and by the last 30 minutes (pre-encore), both couples were very, very drunk. On Adam’s side, the girl kept drumming her hands on the countertop (a very slammy drumming, not a tappy drumming), presumably in an attempt to keep the beat. I looked back at her, and she was rolling her head all around with her eyes squinched shut. On my side, the large woman kept sort of sliding off her stool onto my leg (we weren’t sitting that close), and she too was closed-eye drumming (but much more gently). When we got to the last song, the girl on Adam’s side promptly stopped drumming, and started having a very loud discussion with a new guy over 1) whether there would be an encore and 2) what songs would be played in the event of an encore. And, of course, there was a girl who stood behind me throughout most of the concert and kept jabbing me in the back (with what??? An elbow? Her purse? I just couldn’t tell). When the last song was over, and the lights didn’t come up, I realized there would be more. At that point Adam and I decided to get up and walk around. The second Adam was out of his stool (before I had gotten up), drunk 40/50 year old man swept right in (“hey, I got a seat!”)
Sooo…my conclusion? I’m too old for these concerts. Aside from 40/50 year old man, and the creepy couple next to me, Adam and I were the oldest people there. As we are at most concerts we attend at the 9:30 Club. College students become much less tolerable once you’re not one of them.
In an unrelated story, I went to a yoga class on Sunday morning at the place next door to Mischa’s, and it was actually pretty fun. It was the first yoga class I’ve ever gotten through where I didn’t want to look at the clock, or make mental to-do lists. I was so inspired, I went home an crocheted a bag to carry my yoga mat in. It’s cute. I’d put up a photo, but I don’t think Adam has added that option yet.
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay blog! Um, I mean, yay online writing tool!!!!!!!!!