u no u <3 me: a poem

like omg!
like ttly!
like rufkm?
uh-uh!

o rly? ya rly!
no wai wtf!
im srs! ur srs?
well duh!

!!? ik, r?
!!! goi,
its so no bd!
cha 4 u!

gtg cya mwah
ok fine ttl
xox u r kewl
<3 u 2!

Personal Day

I'm taking a personal day today because I was up late last night. I went to bed at like 12 and honest-to-God, as stupid and dramatic as this sounds, I was up until 4 fuming about... certain aspects of my professional life. I'm tired. I'm just tired of it all.

But like a GOOD LITTLE BOY SCOUT I got up today right on time and showered and got out the door only to make the 15-minute walk in the cold wet and find I didn't have my wallet, which contained my metrocard and all my money as wallets have a habit of doing. Fifteen minute walk back. Wetter, colder. There was no way I was doing that a third time. I'm already about to pass out from exhaustion and cold wetness. Plus there's too much I can do at home. So, a "personal day."

Personal days always sound like such crap, and here's why: They are crap. If you're taking a personal day, it's usually because you can't deal with your own life in the hours allotted to you: 5 p.m. to 9 a.m. Or it's because you have a real shitty job. Or it's because it's fucking raining.

Whatever the reason, you just have to own up to the fact that you're kinda ill-equipped to be living. But I take a personal day about once a month at this point so Look Who's Talking Too.

Pain in the...

At my job, I have to be able to do three things:

1. Read music.
2. Type.
3. Turn my head to the right to see what I'm working on.

UNFORTUNATELY I slept funny and have such awful tension in my right shoulder anyway that it's all mangled and pinched so that while blow drying my hair this morning, it started hurting SO BAD that now turning my head to the right is nigh impossible unless I am willing to endure excrutiating pain. Who'd have thought a librarian could have a physical disability keeping him from doing his job? Even blind librarians can like... work at a blind library or something.

BUT LIBRARIANS WHO CANNOT TURN THEIR HEAD TO THE RIGHT HAVE NO MORE OUTLETS AVAILABLE TO THEM!

Goodbye, cruel world. At least my boss is out today.

Susan Boyle

With stage-quality power comes salon-quality responsibility.

Susan Boyle for the CONDITIONAL win!

Can I Be Your Marshmallow? Because I Want S'more! :-/

I'm in love I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!

Dudes. Srsly. I went into Saks today after work (as promised) and decided it was time to find something for my cousin's wedding in May. I was aiming for a narrowish purple tie to go with the jacket and shirt I wear to every damn wedding. Simple.

Well first of all I found that tie after wandering the 6th floor for a while, it was like fate. You can't see the whole thing here but it's a Gucci solid with those two signature stripes near the top. The violet is a little lighter than the website makes it look.

Fine right great but then I was walking out of the section to maybe find some jeans when I saw the most gorgeous amazing shirt I have ever seen. And that's how I fell in love.

His name is Robert Graham, and he's without question my new favoritest designer ever. (Careful, the website's kinda loud.) The two shirts I found were these beautiful, well-fitted pastel numbers with a little sheen and some subtle floral prints. The neat thing about these shirts is that they have a regular French cuff, but you can also reverse it and press it for a really neat alternate cuff with a touch of whimsy. The pink shirt had a reverse cuff that was light blue with pink embroidery. That one was my favorite, but they didn't have it in my size. The blue shirt had a reverse of this kinda fruity, bold floral pattern... dark blue, green, purple, and burgundy. Srsly sweet, and it fits me great.

So I bought it. I HAD TO!

Anyway he's also got great ties, some of which are also reversible and so are essentially a two-for-one. And some switch fabrics in the middle, so when you wear them, if you don't loop it together, the back part can peek out for a fun contrast.

Then I came home and looked at that website and man, there's this vest and this jacket and pretty much this whole collection that I want. Well actually some of the stuff is way too.... what's the word I'm searching for?.... hideous. But if it's not, it's just... man. Robert Graham, if you're reading this would you like to come and live under my bed? I will give you a sewing machine and let you out for meals twice a day if you behave. It's like a sweatshop except with only you and sometimes my cat will come visit, she likes it under there too.

UPDATE: Don't worry, concerned friends, I didn't pay full price for any of this!

Anyway when I finally deposit my paycheck from last week, I'm going shopping again tomorrow. I need at least that vest with the pink flowers and some cufflinks. Yes. Then I can say it. I can say it like he says it and it will be almost true.

"I'm Chuck Bass."

Allow me to introduce: Your Peers!

How sad is it when jury duty is the most relaxing vacation I've had in ages? Honestly, I don't know why people complain about it so much. It's an institution so universally abhorred that it's a punchline, but I don't understand why people are so against being taken out of their normal lives and told to do something a little different for a few days. Isn't that what we're all after on some level? But call it "civic responsibility" and suddenly "DEAR GOD WHY!?" and "JESUS I HAVE TO BRING MY BLACKBERRY!"

It had all the best vacation elements: going to a place that is not your home or work, relaxing with a book and some good music, and eating delicious local cuisine. What more could you want?

"Bikini babes."

Ok, I give you that. There were no bikini babes.

Granted, I had a better experience at jury duty than lots of people. Basically, I sat in the big room reading for two days. My name was never called. I went to Chinatown for my two-hour lunch breaks, and I got to go home at 3:00. It was awesome!

I read two and a half novels. I read Ring, on which was based the creepy Japanese movie. (It's pretty good and more like a creepy paranormal detective story than a horror novel. You should read it ok?) I also finished reading my current classic Pamela, which ended up being pretty shitty, and I got through half of Snow Country by Kawabata. It's pretty.

Oh and there was a sexy juror. I asked him where the cafeteria was in order to establish first contact, but then I never got to meet him again. He probably got called on some stupid case. Stupid criminals taking my loves away.

Yeah, I was a juror at the criminal court, so even if I did get called and my vacation interrupted, there's always the chance it would be some kick-ass case filled with intrique and I'd be all "OBJECTION!" and poking holes in the case like Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney!

Obviously I know so much about the criminal justice system that they would instantly promote me from juror to district attorney.

OMG and speaking of CRIMINAL, I finally finished watching Season 1 of Gossip Girl and am about ready to die over and over about how good it was. I know I'm super behind the times, but man... seriously!

Anyway, I'm 10 minutes past due to leave work and get me some Chuck Bass bowties and a thousand-dollar jacket or two.

Holy crap, when I first typed that I was kidding, but now I'm seriously going shopping.

xoxo!

I, I, Iowa

So, gay marriage in Iowa. I can't say I saw that one coming. It's not because of any prejudice about the people there, but because honestly, I don't give Iowa much thought. I spent 23/26ths of my life in the midwest, and Iowa is the only state in the region I've never visited.

I have to say, though, that my lack of experience with the place gives it a sort of picturesque, fantastical quality. I've spent so much time in Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, and downstate Illinois, and the "Heartland of America" eventually gets tainted by the reality of run-down farmhouses, trashy trailer parks, and miles of dull open space dotted with factories, drab towns, and the occasional "World's Biggest" roadside attraction. Granted, this is all part of the quintessential American tableau, and no place is perfect when you look closely enough. I understand that, and the midwest does have places of breathtaking beauty and incredible people. But none of it compares to the untarnished Iowa of my mind.

It is Hollywood's midwest: 100% rolling hills, amber waves, cornbread, and mom 'n pop shops. The sky is blue, the barns are red, and everyone wears flannel and helps out on the farm. Iowa is Smallville. Even the urban areas sound quiet and organized and full of nice people living happy lives. The names alone -- Dubuque, Ames, Des Moines, Sioux City -- evoke a certain calm, utopian feel. Not Stepford... just peaceful.

Obviously this is all trumped up fantasy, and my imaginary Iowa would turn into the crappy real world as soon as I visited for the first time. Luckily, I have no plans to go there... ever. Fake Iowa is important to me. There needs to be a place like that in everyone's mind: not just a fantasy world, but somewhere close to home that's an idealized version of what you know. And it needs the potential of being real. That's why when I first read the news about Iowa allowing gay marriage, my first thought was, "Oh... great, that's not really relevant to me," but my second thought was, "On second thought, that's the most perfect place to have it."

Folk singer Dar Williams once compared the hills of Iowa to the curves of a woman, and the image inspired one of my all-time favorite songs. I suggest you download it through whatever (completely legal) medium you desire. It's a beautiful song, but it has a little extra poignancy in light of the recent marriage decision:

I've never had a way with women,
But the hills of Iowa make me wish that I could.
And I've never found a way to say I love you
But if the chance came by, oh I, I would.
But way back where I come from, we never mean to bother.
We never make our passions other people's concern.
And we walk in the world of safe people,
And at night we walk into our houses and burn.

Iowa, oh-oh-oh-oh, Iowa, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-I, Iowa.

How I long to fall just a little bit,
To dance out of the lines and stray from the light,
But I fear that to fall in love with you
Is to fall from a great and gruesome height.
So I asked a friend about it on a bad day, her husband had just
Left her, and she sat down in the chair he left behind.
She said, "What is love, where did it get me?
Whoever thought of love is no friend of mine."

Iowa, oh-oh-oh-oh, Iowa, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-I, Iowa.

Once I had everything, I gave it up
For the shoulder of your driveway and the words I never felt,
And so for you, I came this far across the tracks,
Ten miles above the limit and with no seat belt, and I'd do it again.
For tonight I went running through the screen doors of discretion
For I woke up from a nightmare that I could not stand to see.
You were a-wandering out on the hills of Iowa and
You were not thinking of me.

Iowa, oh-oh-oh-oh, Iowa, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-I, Iowa.