You again?!
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
With the possible exception of my year-long sojourn in central and western Tennessee, I have followed roughly the same path as other people in my demographic. I graduated from a competitive, suburban, mega-high school, went to the big, in-state, beer-soaked University, and then moved to the north side of Chicago. Nothing about me screams individuality. So it would seem normal that I'm constantly running into people that I know. I see someone from high school or college EVERYWHERE I go.

But it doesn't feel normal at all. Is it wrong that I prefer NOT to see some of these people again? Is it a bad thing to have hoped that some of my not-so-favorite people from high school and college have just married into a family from one of the coasts, and moved there? I'll take the northern midwest, and they have everything west of the Mississippi, east of Indianapolis, and south of Tupelo. How's that sound?

The reason I say this is because I constantly feeling like I'm falling prey to the social dance I like to call, "The Meaningless Acknowledgement of Their Presence." I'm sure this goes both ways, so my apologies to anyone who has had to do this, after running into ME. Have you ever seen someone from your past, and out of a reflex of Post-esque etiquette, said hello? Maybe you asked how they are, but really didn't care and didn't really listen to their response? What is it that is hard-wired into each of us, that forces us to have this conversation over and over? Why can't we just pretend we didn't see the other person, and move on with our lives?

We all know that class reunions are dreadful affairs. Tacky balloons, deep-fried appetizers, and self-adhesive nametags. Shouldn't we save all of our innane, "how have you been?" conversations for those events? Do I really have to go through the motions every time I see someone on Michigan Ave, on the eL, or at the Southport Einsteins (when I am wearing my pajamas, with no make up on, and this person once asked me to the homecoming dance in a note, passed to me by his best friend in AP US History)?

File it under T, for Tacky
Monday, June 28, 2004
I don't understand gaudy jewelry. I saw a woman on the eL this morning, sporting the most hideous piece of jewelry that I have ever seen. I'm not an expert, but I know the difference between fashionably chunky, loose-stoned jewelry, and a hunk of turquoise bigger than a 16" softball hanging on a silver chain that would make Mr. T jealous. I do not claim to be a fashionista, hell, I don't even know when fashion week is. I know it's in New York, which is a loud, dirty city whose inhabitants, for the most part, do not meet the Midwestern standard of politeness to which I am accustomed. A few great museums, a big park, and Donald Trump do not a cultural mecca make. But I digress. Back to jewelry.

Isn't the point of having an accessory, such as jewelry, to enhance an outfit and not distract the observant? Why would anyone put something the size of a hubcap around their neck and expect it to quietly compliment their outfit? Even the great Stevie Nicks, despite her misguided love of lace, scarves, and guinevere sleeves, knew when to call it quits with the jewelry.

For that matter, what's up with the gi-normous rings that I have been seeing people wear these days? It's one thing to represent with a huge, iced-out cocktail ring, If that's one of the few pieces of jewelry you are wearing. But it's entirely another matter to put two rings on one finger, simply to leave another finger free for more jewelry.

When do we draw the line? When is enough, enough?

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back
Friday, June 25, 2004
No, this posting is not about the ill-fated Paula Abdul hit, whose video featured a gaudy, tap-dancing cartoon cat. Although, when you think about it-- that cat really thought he was cooler than Paula in the video. What nerve! No one was cooler than Paula back then. She was a Laker Girl, for Pete's sake. But I digress.

This posting is about my feet. I have the feet of a 95 year old woman (I'll spare you the gruesome details about the evidence that causes me to feel this way). If given the opportunity to have reconstructive surgery of ANY kind, I would have a foot-lift (rhinoplasty coming in a close second- I'll save that little vignette of vanity for another time). Little nip here, tuck there, maybe some dermabrasion treatments... The resurgence of flip-flops (tragically known as "thongs" in many areas of the USA) make it very difficult to live with ugly feet. Cute feet are everywhere, it seems. Cute, obedient feet are rewarded with slip-ons and strappy sandals, and yet I wander the earth in sneakers and low-cut socks. No pedicure can save them, believe me, I have tried everything. Technicians at several reputable, high-end Chicago salons have BLANCHED at the mere sight of them.

Was it years of uncomfortable dance shoes that made my feet this way? Perhaps it was the pair of now-weathered Doc Marten boots that I wore all throughout high school? Maybe the real culprits were the many pairs of clunky, UDA-endorsed Nikes, that never seemed to fit quite right. What have I done to deserve this fate?!

What's the point of it all?
Thursday, June 24, 2004
Last night over cheeseburgers and beer, my mother (but you can call her J-Dawg) asked me, "So what is this blog thing?" and I didn't really have an articulate answer for that. It's partly a way to waste my time, I'm sure, but mostly just an outlet and something that is hopefully relatively entertaining for others. In an effort to keep all of you beautiful people amused for today, see the following list of some of my favorite time-wasting websites. Where did I find these, you ask? That's the beauty of the internet-- I don't remember.

- (this one is esp. hilarious- be sure to check out "Baby Queen" and "Arnold & Gary Spice Boys Rap")

Enjoy! It's almost Friday....

I got no skillz
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
\In`a*bil"i*ty\, n. [Pref. in- not + ability: cf. F. inhabilet['e]. See Able, and cf. Unable.] The quality or state of being unable; lack of ability; want of sufficient power, strength, resources, or capacity.

By the way, I'm a novice at HTML Coding. Once I get rolling, you can expect this humble little blog to have quite a bit more artistic value. No offense, of course, to the talent behind the master template (

Picking Favorites
You'll notice to the left of this page, that there is a hyperlink that results in my "profile" on the blogspot website. Frankly, those are my standard answers for all questionnaires like that...and it's becoming a little predictable. Besides, I've been told that I need to redeem myself after naming "The Cutting Edge" as one of my favorite movies (and it is).

Some of my lesser-known favorite things:
- small dogs that don't shed
- organizing my sock drawer
- impulsive haircuts
- InstaBronze self-tanning machines
- pineapple smoothies (no dairy mix-ins, fruit only)
- good manners
- playing air guitar to really bad 80s rock music
- friends that love me despite my tendency to put my foot in my mouth
- historical memoirs
- anyone who laughs at my lame humor
- coaching
- anything by Ella Moss

In other news, I'm currently taking suggestions for daily update topics. Got anything you need to get off your chest? Want to spurn hatred for something or someone? Let me know- I'm in need of content for site. I've decided that having this blog will be an exercise in observation for me, since most things fly RIGHT over my head. Wish me luck.

Genesis of my Online Diary
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
After several months of stalking other people's blogs, I figured that I should just start my own. So here it is! Given the amount of time that I spend on the internet (hey- a lot of it really is for work purposes) and the speed at which I surf, this thing should get updated about every 15 minutes. ;)

For those of you looking for an erudite perspective on the modern world, or perhaps a cynical ranting here and there...well, you may get the latter. For those of you interested in the minutiae of my daily life, then you've found your dream blog. I make no guarantee that what you find here will actually qualify as productive, progressive information.

Feel free to respond at your discretion- I welcome any and all constructive criticism. Particularly from those of you that have some idea of what a proper blog should look like. Welcome!