i can handle random.

this quiz gets points for being so pointlessly random. it tells me nothing about myself or the world at large - but i was still compelled to take it, and even more compelled to post it.


You're a little gold key, and you unlock other
people's hearts. Your kindness and willingness
to be there for those you care about lets
people open up to you knowing they will be
accepted. People will rely on you, but be
careful not to give more than you have.

What sort of key are you and what do you unlock?
brought to you by No comments:

yes, i know, i'm psychic

in case you were wondering, "is it essential for me to see the drew barrymore/jimmy fallon movie fever pitch? will my life be a hollow shell without that romantic comedy in life?"

i'm here to say: no, my friend. it's not essential. it's not even recommended. drew barrymore has great hair and accessories, however. if you're really into hair and accessories and don't need plot or substance or even coherent thought in a movie, then by all means, go see it. but again, for everyone else - not essential.

thank you. consider my public duty fulfilled. i'll now go back to rogue knitting and setting things on fire. well, i'll knit. the fire part, not so much (not at all, actually). i sounded tough, though, right?

the best of youth

overheard coming out of best buy today:

16-year-old off-season snowboarder to his eerily similar looking off-season snowboarder friend:

"dude, milo's mom is still pretty hot even after them. i bet she could pop out a few more and still look good."

ah, youth.

loyalty comes at the worst possible time...

the countdown has started at work.

the weekend of july 15th i head to lovely ontario to find an apartment, tour my (my!) school, meet some professors lurking around.

i'm thinking about leaving the law firm around late-ish august.

naturally, now is the only time that i have ever, ever felt guilty for leaving a job. i've worked since the tender age of 15. in fact, i was so eager to work i got TWO jobs at 15. the first job - hostess at perkins. yeah, not so much. much to the manager's chagrin, i just stopped showing up for work. i hated that job, i was extremely frightened of the old, wrinkled waitresses who reeked of smoke and whose hands trembled. i can still hear his voice on the phone, exasperated, "i don't care that you quit, i just need you to tell me these things." sorry, perkins dude. the second job - dissembling computers for recycling. that was fantastic. the recycling plant consisted of me, some jaded hipster guys who read foucault and introduced me to things i'd never thought about (like pinups and penis piercings. obviously, i was way more fascinated by the pinups. go figure.), and juvenile delinquents court-ordered to do community service who totally hated me. i just liked ripping things apart and throwing shit around in bins. for a 15 year old, there are few finer things.

but i digress. my previous job was horrid. i was terribly sick with grave's disease but didn't know it, and thought i was just having a mental breakdown. not so fun. this job started along the same vein. i was still sick (pre-radiation), and the work was looking to be about the same thing - gloried file clerk.

but now, oh, now it's morphed into a lovely research gig where i learn about industries and companies and people and finances and write research reports for attorneys. that sounded somewhat dull, didn't it? i like it anyway. i like being asked by smart people, 'hey, what is X all about? what can you tell me about it?" then finding out all about it and defending my research. i like making senior partners in the firm acknowlege that i'm smart, that i'm thorough, that i know what i'm doing. i like arguing with litigators. i like using my brain and then pushing people around. really, what's better?

i wouldn't feel so badly, however, if i didn't already know that i'm leaving when my supervisor is all worked into a lather about my preggers coworker/friend who'll be popping out her baby in a few months. i know that i'm going to leave them short. i know they've dumped a shitload of training into my brain, and they're encouraging me to get my mba. they were really good to me when i needed to cut back my hours after my second dose of radiation.

i guess i just need to accept that i can't please them, that my loyalty is ultimately to myself. maybe this is all a sign that society has done a fantastic job of molding me into the type of woman who wants to please everyone, who doesn't want to make anyone mad, who doesn't like to upset her superiors. fuck that, i say! i'm going to grad school. i'm going to be a professor. fuck, i hope to be the kind of professor who has the reputation for being super fucking tough and super fucking smart.

now if i could only shake the residual guilt...

sigh.

i want, i NEED

this is the only car i've ever wanted in my whole life.

europe seems so far, oh so terribly far away...

valentine

have you ever had the kind of day where the news is dreary and the weather's miserable and all you want is to buy some happiness in yarn and shoes but you're completely broke?

that was yesterday.

BUT, my boy rich randomly sent me a copy of his school picture ( i should mention he's a teacher, not a student) and it totally made my day. rich and i met at NYU and even though he's in new jersey now and i'm in minneapolis - and he's moving to london next year and i'm moving to ontario - we have both judiciously agreed that we're destined to live together in a nonchalantly fabulous apartment while wearing amazing clothing, and hosting salons with witty, interesting people. i also suspect the pantry will be a popular place for torrid affairs. he's so cute.

i'd rather have continuous heart attacks than not knit.

these past few weeks have been particularly knitting intensive for me. i'm trying to finish up a surprise gift for a friend, and getting ready to start up a baby sweater for a pregnant friend at work. i also have heroic plans to decrease my stash, but that's in the distant future.

however, i thought that with all my knitting and typing at work i had pinched a nerve. my left arm was all annoyingly tingly. when it got to the point i couldn't ignore it anymore, i asked my mom (an np), "yo, mom, i think i either pinched a nerve in my left arm or i'm having constant heart attacks. what's going on?"

my mom played around with my arm and asked how much i've been knitting lately. i got all red and flustered... "um, a lot?" i told her.

she gave me a BIG eyeroll, "elizabeth, you're giving yourself TENDINITIS. stop knitting."

i told her that i'd rather have incessant heart attacks.

but now that i've given my hands a few days off, i'm diving back into the fray tonight. someday i'll have a digital camera to post my knitting victories, but when i'm done with my surprise gift i'll post the pic and the site where i found the pattern. it's lovely, i'm proud of myself!

autochthonous

this is my new favorite word. you can listen to a man's melodious tones pronouncing it here.

i really need to introduce it into spontaneous conversation.

from my word-of-the-day calendar:

autochthonous
adj.
1. indigenous, native
*2. formed or originating in the place where found

*Gaelic is not autochthonous to the Scottish Highlands; it was imported from Ireland after the fifth century, replacing the Pictish language.

Ancient Athenians considered their ancestors the primordial inhabitants of their land, as if sprung from the very soil of the region they inhabited. Autochthon*, their word for any true-born Athenian, itself sprang from auto-, meaning "self," and chthon**, meaning "earth." Nowadays, the English adjective "autochthonous" is most likely to be used in somewhat meaty scientific or anthropological writing (as in "several autochthonous cases of fever broke out in the region"), but it was a "bready" context in which it made its debut. Observed English literary critic William Taylor in 1805: "The English have this great predilection for autochthonous bread and butter."

nerdy word fun for everyone! yipee!

*elizabeth's comment: the second "o" has a flat line above it, but i can't get blogger to put it in for me.
**elizabeth's comment: "o" with that line again

you owe me.

here, let me save you a few dollars: solely based upon previews, "Herbie: Fully Loaded" is not about cars, or families, or whatever patently soothing moral they're selling.

SPOILER AHEAD

really, the plot can be summed up in nine words: "man, lindsay lohan looks hot in a tiny t-shirt."

you can thank me later. really, i feel i'm doing a public service. i just saved you gas money, ticket money, popcorn money, and god knows whatever else you spend your money on. unless, of course, that plot synopsis sounds pretty good to you. (then i'll see you in line at the theatre, you perv.)

hardcore, like me

feel it.