So, this is my life.
And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.
Monday, June 30, 2008
and it's my favorite song of the week:
and all i know is when we're together
no one can make me feel the way you do
i wish each moment can last forever
it's hard to explain the way i feel for you
i just can't find the words
you got me losin' myself
in what i'm trying to say
and it's so hard to fight it
can't help but feelin this way
and every time that i'm near you it's like my heart gets weak
feels like i'm losin' my breath, makin' it hard to speak
karina - can't find the words
...but somehow YOU did.
thanks for the card.
and ditto, shawty.
ain't nothin' else to say.
i'm pretty sure i'm the last person in the americas to see donnie darko, a/k/a the scariest effing movie i've ever seen. and apparently i'm also the last person to blog about it, because there are approximately 3 billion websites and blog posts dedicated to the film and its meaning.
if you've seen it, which you certainly have, then you know that it leaves more questions than answers, yet not in an unsatisfying way, like one of my bf jake gyllenho's other films, zodiac (that piece of trash left nothing but unanswered questions and furrowed brows). but donnie wasn't as frustrating. "it's a thinking person's movie," A said to me last night. he's right, you know. he's right.
and whereas most people my age, after watching the film, probably pass around a bong and get down to work talking their way through the film's ultimate lesson, i took to the internets to figure it out. that's when i realized how many geeks out there in dvd-land have watched the film countless times, created time-lines of events, charts and graphs detailing when and where the tangent universe splits from the primary universe, and -- most appropriately -- commented at how scary that effing bunny rabbit is.
the whole thing reminds me a bit of back to the future, and i suspect that the storyline can be boiled down to something almost as simple and as accessible to 13-year-olds who aren't smoking up. like us in the early 90's! this theory is supported by jakey poo's comment in the DD about BTTF. coincidence? no.
i'm not going to add my interpretation of the film because, frankly, it's too late. i'm several years too late. oh, and i need to watch it again. and again. and again, in order to do so with confidence. so what's the point of this post? why did i want to become just another internet geek/dd groupie?
to show you this:
happy nightmares, bitchez!!!
OKAY, i apologize. maybe this will make you feel better:
works for me. every time.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
SIT BACK AND UNDWIND
Summer, summer time! It’s hotttt and that makes it hard to go outside and enjoy all the fun Philadelphia has to offer. But here at Philebrity we do not let the heat keep us down, in fact we fight the heat the way god intended, with alcohol. Here are three beyond simple solutions to keep you cool and let you party at the same time.
The Beer Popsicle
So you might be a bit old for the ice cream truck, but you are never too old to enjoy a popsicle. Here’s how it works. Buy some popsicle molds. Let your favorite brew sit out for 24 hours. Pour beer into the molds and let it freeze. If you are trying to cut costs, use medium plastic cups and wooden popsicle sticks instead of a pre-made mold. Pour the beer in the plastic cups until it is a half an inch from the top. Let freeze until the beer slightly solidifies. Stick in the wooden stick and then continue to let freeze.
Some people get crazy and add flavors to their beer pops. Make sure to experiment with the right flavors before freezing your brew.
Berry Ice Cubes
Sure, sipping some juice or wine when it’s hot can be refreshing, but adding some extra flavor while keeping your drink cold makes it better. Pick up some berries. Blueberries and strawberries are the most commonly used for this, whichever berry you choose make sure you rinse them.
Take an empty ice cube tray and put an individual berry in each cube space. Then fill the tray up with water and freeze. Now you have a kick-ass ice cube that will keep your drink cold that adds extra berry flavor to whatever you are sipping.
The Adult Smoothie
Smoothies are a great way to keep cool, but you know what makes a smoothie better? Vodka. Again, pick a berry of your choosing. Throw equal portions of berries and ice into a blender and mix until slushy. Next add 1/3 glass vodka, more then this could cause the smoothie to be more liquid-y then desirable. Then add a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice and mix until smooth.
Don’t have a blender? No worries, pick up a Slurpie and spike it, but make sure to stir it really well so that you are not sipping just vodka at the end.
last night i had chinese take-out. even though it wasn't a sunday. but i had a long day, my brain waz fried, and i badly needed a sweet & sour chicken. and fried rice. and an egg roll. and veggie dumplings. (in my defense, i didn't finish the rice... until this morning). the worst is yet to come.
i had it delivered.
although i live less than 2 blocks from my new favorite place on earth, jin house, i couldn't bear to put on real clothing and walk those approximately 1.75 blocks. plus, i was busy studying. well, okay, i was busy watching a few episodes of season 1 of SATC.
the girl on the phone told me 25 minutes, which seemed to me an inordinate amount of time, considering they invariably tell me 10 minutes if i tell them i'm picking it up myself. the 25-minute wait almost made me want to walk and get it. but i didn't.
and then something both magical and disturbing happened.
exactly 8 minutes after i hung up the phone, my doorbell rang. could it really be? how is this possible? with some hesitation in my voice, i told the delivery guy, "wow, that was really fast..." to which he smiled and replied, "you're welcome."
it turned out to be the best, hottest, freshest, most perfect chinese take-out i've ever had. i think the entire transaction was extremely efficient. my food was brought to me as soon as it was made. neither i nor my carboload meal had to sit and wait. and my evening of productivity was uninterrupted. perfection in a take-out bag.
and that's the story i'm sticking with in order to feel less guilty. the diet resumes monday. don't judge me.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
if the fish swam out of the ocean
and grew legs and they started walking
and the apes climbed down from the trees
and grew tall and they started talking
and the stars fell out of the sky
and my tears rolled into the ocean
now i'm looking for a reason why
you even set my world into motion
'cause if you're not really here
then the stars don't even matter
now i'm filled to the top with fear
that it's all just a bunch of matter
'cause if you're not really here
then i don't want to be either
i wanna be next to you
black and gold...
i looked up into the grey sky
and see a thousand eyes staring back
and all around these golden beacons
i see nothing but black
i feel a way of something beyond them
i don't see what i can feel
if vision is the only validation
then most of my life isn't real
whatever this queen is trying to say, i like it.
and suddenly i'm filled with a desire to get dressed to the nines and go somewhere posh. and, ideally, to have a dance already choreographed, in hopes that a hot song comes on at the swanky event.
no big deal, it happens once or twice a month -- usually while i'm violently drying my hair or furiously brushing my stained, yellow teeth after drinking coffee or red wine -- and it goes away within a day or two.
and NO, i didn't do this just for an excuse to take a study break.
the double date: a classic courting ritual in which one couple shares the date of another and, in so doing, voyeuristically appreciates the quirks of a different relationship for a change.
on a beautiful evening in june, the cafe sidewalk tables and coffee shops of philadelphia were crowded with couples out for a coffee, a chat, or a romantic dinner together. and in midtown village, four young guys sat around a candlelit bistro table having a lovely time together. the martinis were dry, but the conversation never dried up. to someone at another table, it may have been difficult to determine who was on a date with who. that is, unless that person's vantage point allowed him or her to see the shy hand-holding going on underneath the table.
we've been doing it a lot lately -- double-dating, that is! occasionally planned; other times spontaneous, after we crossed paths with friends who were also wondering where to have dinner that night. but the group outings all share the same charm of over-stimulation and energetic conversation. like a normal date on speed. i happen to be in a relationship in which the conversation never dries up. we can talk or not talk for hours, and still find things to not talk about... but the dynamic of having a couple more people at our table only adds to the already fun time that i'm having.
for many, a dd is a way of getting feedback on a new relationship. for others, who may be in already stable relationships, it's a way of spicing up an evening and breaking bread with some new friends. but at the end of the night, as the two couples diverge at an intersection, it is inevitable that each pair will spend the rest of the journey home gossiping about the other. it's the equivalent of going on a first date and then, after parting ways, calling your best friend and analyzing out loud the events of the evening. the only difference is that, after a double, the friend with whom you want to analyze the evening is walking home right beside you.
i couldn't help but wonder: is a double date just a socially-approved way of dating outside your relationship? after all, it entails spending an evening laughing with, talking to, and getting to know someone new. someone other than your significant other.
fortunately, though, your real date is holding your hand under the table. and there's no question about getting a kiss at the end of the night. and, most likely, your real date is probably a sure thing. that's the beauty of opening up your still exclusive relationship.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
but today i'm thinking about it. my fault. i saw the book on my shelf and thought, "i barely remember reading it... wonder if i liked it?" it was a gift. years ago. i read it partly out of obligation.
but i picked it up. and as i leafed through it, i saw a sure sign that i enjoyed it. that it connected. highlighter. not a lot, but here and there. what did i find some interesting in this book that i had to highlight it?
I walk around the school hallways and look at the people. I look at the teachers and wonder why they're here. If they like their jobs. Or us. And I wonder how smart they were when they were fifteen. Not in a mean way. In a curious way. It's like looking at all the students and wondering who's had their heart broken that day, and how they are able to cope with having three quizzes and a book report on top of that. Or wondering who did the heart breaking. And wondering why. Especially since I know that if they went to another school, the person who had their heart broken would have had their heart broken by somebody else, so why does it have to be so personal?
if you're in the mood for a some vicarious teenage angst, or even some LSD-like flashbacks of your own teenage years, i suggest you pick up the perks of being a wallflower.
oh, this one i highlighted heavily. it really struck a chord at the time. not so much now. but it's still nice.
So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.
was a good gift.
Where Do Homosexuals Get All Their Energy? By Brandon Kelley
Boy, am I beat. And it's not like I have some crazy life where I'm working three jobs and going to night school. No, I just have one job and a small apartment. I don't even have a pet to look after. Even so, it seems that no matter what I do, there's always more. If they put another eight hours in the day, I might be able to catch up on the laundry list of chores I have, or even just my laundry, if I were lucky. But you know who really gets it done? Homosexuals.
I know what you're saying: Brandon, you're just perpetuating the stereotype that homosexuals are superhuman. That is totally not true. All I'm saying is, with their boundless energy and talents, they make us straight guys look bad.
Just look at the way they dress. They must get up bright and early just to figure out how to match their homosexual outfits. They do this, plus take the time to have a nice, hot morning bath. And they eat, too. Homosexuals know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. By 8 a.m., they are out the door, fully rested and raring to go.
For me, just shopping for a new pair of shoes is exhausting. I try on maybe one or two new pairs, and I'm ready to call it a day. But a homosexual can sit for hours in Barney's tirelessly trying on dozens of pairs, and when he finds the one he wants, why, he's ready to wear those shoes out to a homosexual club and dance all night. What vim!
And that's another thing: Even after partying all night, homosexuals must have to work a lot in order to earn enough money for their active lifestyles. After all, meals at the trendiest restaurants in town don't grow on trees. So they go to their jobs as designers and lawyers and architects and work hard to afford all these things. Their busy minds are always whirring, whirring, whirring.
They're no slouches at home, either—they always have to be fixing something. Homosexuals are the first ones to go into a bad neighborhood, buy a beautiful old building, restore it to its former grandeur, and then wait until a coffee shop opens on the block. Or they open one themselves! Do you understand? They don't even have a coffee shop when they move into the neighborhood. I can't get anything done without a cup of good coffee.
And do you know what they do after restoring a building? To the gym! They pump iron and play racquetball like they were tying their shoes. It's nothing to them. Or they go jogging in an urban riverside park and take their dogs with them. And as they do these things, they effortlessly carry on the most sparkling conversations filled with witty bon mots and juicy innuendo. That physical activity frees up their minds and gives them ideas for their next play or painting. Imagine being able to run six miles a day and make indelible contributions to the arts and letters of our country. Phew! I get tired just thinking about it!
And don't remind me about those gallery openings. After a hard day of work, I was barely able to drag my ass down to the last one. I told myself, I'm not doing this again anytime soon! But it would never occur to homosexuals to think those things. The moment I walked in, there they were, dressed impeccably and criticizing the choice of wine. They'd even prepared these fantastic hors d'oeuvres trays. Ever heard of jicama? Well, if you're homosexual, you have. It's a very tasty vegetable and, though exotic, an ideal choice for a light appetizer. Naturally!
So I ask, where do they get all their energy? Is it from all that meth? I've heard it's an epidemic in the homosexual community, and it may explain how they can charge through their day. But that doesn't seem like the whole explanation. Perhaps it's the centuries of persecution that's kept them on their toes. Or maybe homosexual sex is simply more invigorating and satisfying. Or could it be that their quest to be perfect is a way to compensate for their families' shame? It's a mystery to me! But whatever it is, it sure seems to be working.
brilliant. with just the right balance of absurdity and truth.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
so when a dear friend e-mailed me to say, quite simply, and i quote:
i couldn't help but smile at her e-mail. for me, it was a reminder. i was reminded of this hope. reminded of the excitement. reminded what it felt like when it was new for me.
and happy. so happy for her. also happy that i, too, have felt it. happy that what started just like that has, for me, turned into a quite lovely relationship.
and i wish the same for my dear friend. i think there is infinite happiness to be had. an infinite number of blessings to receive. the territory is boundless, and each of us deserves the whole of it. while that math may be confusing for our psyches and especially contrary to what we've been taught all these years, it is simply the truth. goodness will not run out. fortune will not dry up. and love will never be in short supply. so eat up, i say. take it all in. drink more than you should. there's more where that came from.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
what i'm boycotting:
1. urban outfitters
okay, i know we all enjoy the store and its fun clothing and gifts, but i've had enough. do you realize how over-priced all their merchandise is? you can get the same shoes online for $45 that urb out sells for $72. WHY!? where's that extra money going? to pay for more tattoos and piercings for the employees?
and did you know that the president of uo, richard hayne, is a terrible, mean, old conservative who supported rick santorum?
well, i have known those things for a long time, and i kept shopping there nonetheless. until now. because uo does not carry the pair of shoes i really want and have been looking for. just every OTHER size. and that just broke the camel's back. the other two points are just to make me feel even stronger about boycotting :-)
just for the summer. because this week i realized that i can wear almost all my shoes without socks. and i'm looking for my next pair. and i'd have them if it weren't for the inherent evil at the core of urban outfitters. BOYCOTT!
3. complaining about bar review
this one won't be so easy to boycott, but i'm really going to try. can you imagine if every conversation you had with almost every person you saw almost every day came back to the same negative topic: hating bar review and dreading the bar? imagine how tiring it gets. and how pointless it is.
in fact, i am reminding myself that it is a privilege to spend my days learning and studying and honing my skills for my future profession. you know, in some parts of the world they don't have college or bar review or the beauty of a good education. and i'm not talking about burma! i'm just talking about alabama! so close to home... so sad...
and it is also a privilege to have the means to pay for a very expensive review course that will supposedly teach me everything i need to know. how easy does that sound?! what is there to complain about? i'm through with the bitching. (remind me of this often, k? thanks.)
4. staunch democrats who would rather vote for mcdeath than for obama
even my mom and i are fighting about this one. enough said.
5. smirnoff vodka
blog is it awful! once you spend $2 more and get used to something not quite as cheap (but still cheap! i'm no snob!), you realize that smirnoff tastes just. like. hair spray. i suggest Skyy. especially with lunch.
what i'm into right now
1. new restaurants
i'm not a huge foodie, and i don't flock to new restaurants like some of you do (not that there's anything wrong with that -- i love the recommendations), but last night i just happened to hit up two brand new restaurants/bars in my neighborhood: azul and apothecary.
i have to recommend that you go to both.
and i have to tell you that Azul (or cantina azul) was fantastic. amazing mexican food, strong drinks (that's relative*), great atmosphere, just opened, and given a big thumbs way up by me and my pals. check out a foodie blog post on it here.
then there's Apothecary. fun concept: crazy drink concoctions and random food pairings come together to delight your tastebuds and give you quite a buzz. *the drinks. are. strong. there's nothing else to say about that.
the food was silly and fantastic. and while nobody really neeeeeds a chocolate, marshmallow and olive oil panini at midnight, i can't imagine anyone saying no to a bite or two. it was glorious. somebody back me up. taylor? drew?
sipping the alchemist bartender's crazy concoctions while sitting on a beautiful roof-top deck under a summer night sky... just go already. go tonight. check it out here first, just for fun.
i should mention that A. and i started with happy hour at Raw, which has a fantastic courtyard for summer nights. i recommend that too. sorry for being so damn pushy.
2. cheese with veggies in it
and just cheese in general. but especially havarti with dill, or my current fave: monterey jack with jalapenos. to best enjoy this spicy treat, and in honor of the new mexican cantina in my neighborhood, i made a spicy cheese, black bean, and salsa omelette for lunch today. it's all about the cheese.
also, i'm still eating about 3 string cheeses a day. they're the perfect snack.
3. my catticus
i know he's, like, always on this list. but he's just so funny sometimes, and he can totally be himself around me. i wish you could see it.
the other day week i bought him new food and, to ease his transition, i mixed it in with his old food.
NOTE: the new food: shaped like hearts and little circles. the old food: shaped like plus signs and fish.
today i came home from the gym and he was crying out in extreme hunger. i know his hungry cry. so i go into the kitchen, and what do i see in his bowl? hearts and circles. no plus signs. no fish. the little bitch had picked out all the old food and had eaten around the new stuff.
so i put some old food on top, and he dives in as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. he reminds me of me when i was young and would eat ONLY the curly/folded potato chips.
4. the magic school bus
see previous entry.
5. the spring weather
73 degrees? YES, PLEASE! sunny skies, comfy walks around the hood, and windows wide open!
and when i open these huge windows, its as if i had removed the fourth wall from the room: a lovely breeze floats through the house. too bad the sound of trannies on 12th street floats in along with it, but that doesn't belong on this list, so...
i hope this temperature sticks around for a while. i am not a huge fan of summer, but i am a fan of summer like this!
that's all folks.
what are you guys into?
what are you listening to these days?
what's the cool jams?
what's the 411?
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
last night i watched tv in bed. i can't believe i did it. it just... happened. i should've known having a tv in my bedroom was a mistake, but i had been doing so well -- sitting on a comfy chair in the bedroom, not watching while actually in or on my bed. i feel so week.
also, i bought instant coffee. can you believe that -- INSTANT COFFEE??! who AM i?
i guess i can no longer mock and ridicule those of you who drink instant coffee regularly. and on the plus side, i will save a lot of money i was spending every morning at starbucks and dunkin' donuts, sometimes 2 or 3 times a day...
and, really, the instant coffee tastes a lot like starbucks. it does! that is, if by "like starbucks," i mean if i put starbucks through a brita two or three times. then gargled with it, spit the starbucks coffee into a melting plastic Dixie cup, added tap water to it, gave a homeless man a coffee enema with it, and THEN drank the starbucks coffee out of my favorite starbucks mug ------ then, yeah, the instant stuff kinda tastes like starbucks.
promise me you will take the green line trolley to west philadelphia (born and raised) at least once. if only for fun.
the trolley is the most ridiculous, yet most amusing, mode of public transportation this city has to offer. imagine the public transportation authority sitting around a long board room table and having this discussion:
"hey guys, let's do something new. something fun between center city and west philly, just for kicks!"
"but Paul, i don't... think we need to do anything new. i mean, we have the subway. and buses run east to west all the time. do we need--"
"Nooo you're not listening! let's do something FUN. not to fulfill any PURPOSE, but just to DO it, 'ya know?"
"well, like you said, we have the subway. and we have buses. what if we combined the two?!?"
"that would be called a train"
"NOT if we put it in the air!"
"that would be a monorail. they always crash. many people have died."
"what if we put it underground?!??! that's it! nothing can crash underground!"
"no -- Paul, you're still thinking of a subway. we already have a subway."
[several moments of silence. all present are afraid to offend Paul.]
"i got it! what if we just make a street underground. and drive a bus down it? so it's still a bus... but it's even farther down underground than the subway? and it can come up for air sometimes!"
and that's exactly what they did. probably just to humor Paul.
it's a bus. smaller than a school bus, but not quite a short bus. two doors, one driver. bus seating. underground. comes up for air at some stops. goes back down. drives under the river.
that, my dear friends, is the green line trolley. absolutely redundant, but a very fun ride. it goes up and down imaginary coal mine hills, it feels like a rollercoaster speeding out of control, and then POOF you're at a subterranean bus stop. when it stops, i half expect to see some Fraggles hop on, as it is their neighborhood bus.
i have been taking the magic school bus from PENN back into the city. every single day i get off the bus feeling very dizzy (my body doesn't know if it's above or below ground) but amused. i suggest you try it.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
it's long, but it's interesting... and has, of course, some additional comments from your favorite editor: me.
Science keeps trying to figure that out.
June 16, 2008
Finding common biological traits -- things like hair growth patterns, penis size, family makeup -- might one day shed light on the origins of sexual orientation.
Last month, Sen. John McCain dropped by “Saturday Night Live,” drawing laughs from his promise, if elected president, to fight expensive federal projects -- such as, he spoofed, a Department of Defense device to "jam gaydar."
That was a joke. But some scientists are, in a way, working on gaydar, the supposed ability to discern whether a person is homosexual by reading subtle cues from their appearance. Just don't refer to it that way. The preferred term is "sexual orientation correlates."
These scientists are searching for innate traits that might not appear to be related to sexual orientation or even to standard clichés. So measuring a subject's shoe size is permissible; asking about ownership of Barbra Streisand albums would be cheating. Some inborn traits might be expected if homosexuality is -- as most scientists believe -- rooted in biology, and they might provide clues about the biological origins of sexual orientation.
Finding and solidifying these links isn't easy. Studies contradict each other, and some promising paths don't pan out. (A link between male homosexuality and finger lengths isn't holding up, and a claim that gays have distinctive fingerprint ridge patterns is largely discredited.) Scientists don't always agree on how to interpret the results, and more progress has been made with regard to men than to women.
* Big brothers.
Study after study -- including one of 87,000 British men published last year -- has found that gay men have more older brothers than straight men do. Only big brothers count. Lesbians don't show such patterns.
The numbers: Each older brother will increase a man's chances of being gay by 33%, says Ray Blanchard of the University of Toronto, an expert on the "big-brother effect." That's not as dramatic as it might sound. A man's chance of being gay is pretty low to begin with -- perhaps as low as 2% (lowered from 10% by researchers in the early 1990s). So having one older brother ups the chance to only about 2.6%.
[editor's note: check! i have 3. okay, so 2 are step-brothers...]
What it might mean: Psychological influences are probably not at work, because the pattern holds even for gay men who weren’t raised with their older brothers. Instead, the mother's womb might be key. After giving birth to a boy, her immune system might create antibodies to foreign, male proteins in her bloodstream. Subsequent sons in the womb could be exposed to these "anti-boy" antibodies, which might affect sexual development in the brain.
Accordingly, you'd expect the percentage of gay men in a society to vary depending on demographic differences in family size: One study calculated that a one-child-per-family law would reduce male homosexuality by about 29% from current levels.
* Left hand vs. right hand.
The hand you use to sign your name might have something to do with what gender you are drawn to.
The numbers: More lefties -- or at least more somewhat-ambidextrous folks -- crop up in the gay population than among straight people, several studies have shown. An analysis of more than 23,000 men and women from North America and Europe in 2000 found that being non-right-handed seems to increase a man's chances of being gay by about 34%, and a woman's by about 90%.
What it might mean: One guess is that different-than-normal levels of testosterone in the womb -- widely theorized to play a role in determining eventual sexual orientation -- could nudge a fetus toward brain organization that favors left-handedness as well as same-sex attraction.
Another theory is that development of a fetus might be disturbed by factors such as a mother's illness, steering the fetus into being less than strictly right-handed -- and, in some cases, less than strictly heterosexual.
It's a politically sticky idea, says Qazi Rahman of Queen Mary-University of London. "It's essentially saying that homosexual preference . . . is some kind of biological error," he says. (It might tick off the left-handed folks too.)
* Hair whorl.
How does your hair grow? This might reflect your sexual orientation.
The numbers: A 2004 study of nearly 500 men -- 272 on Delaware's Rehoboth Beach, popular with gay men, 200 on a beach without that reputation -- found that hair on the heads of men on the gay beach was 3.5 times more likely to grow in a counterclockwise direction. (Scalp hair typically resembles a clockwise-rotating typhoon.)
[editor's note: check! counter-clockwise.]
What it might mean: One theory is that a single gene might influence hair-whorl direction, left-right brain organization and, somehow, sexual orientation. Exactly how it would do all this, however, is anyone's guess...
* Penis size.
If exposure to testosterone in the womb influences sexual orientation, scientists reckon that straight and gay people would differ in body parts strongly affected by testosterone, such as the penis.
The numbers: Anthony Bogaert of Brock University in Ontario and his colleagues re-analyzed data on 5,000 gay and straight men from sexologist Alfred Kinsey's famous files, collected from the 1930s to the 1960s. The results, published in 1999, showed that gay men had longer, thicker penises than did straight men: on average, about 6.5 inches long and 4.95 inches around when erect, versus 6.1 inches long and 4.8 inches around for straight men.
[editor's note: CHECK!!!! one word: big.]
What it might mean: Scientists don't really know. One guess is that gay men could have been exposed to an odd mix of hormones in the womb. Testosterone levels might peak early, causing enhanced penis growth, then drop off later in pregnancy -- leading to some feminine characteristics.
There's one catch: Kinsey asked his subjects to measure themselves at home and mail a postcard recording their dimensions. It is within the realm of imagination that not every man reported the perfect truth. If everyone lied, the essence of the results wouldn't change. It's a problem only if gay men were more factually creative than straight men.
Bogaert says that all the measures -- length and circumference, erect and flaccid -- seem to plausibly line up, which probably wouldn't be the case if the men had tacked on a vanity half-inch or so. Also, a smaller, 1960s study (in which a physician did the measuring) backs up the findings. As to whether gay or straight men are more likely to exaggerate about penis size, "It would be an interesting master's thesis project," Bogaert muses.
However, the next frontier in this kind of research seems to lie elsewhere -- with subtle differences in how gay and straight brains navigate new cities, respond to erotic movies and react to the scent of sweat and urine.
Monday, June 16, 2008
i thought of you this evening because i decided to make a nice dinner. i made fish, and -- oh my cod, let me tell you -- it was disgusting!
first i decided i was too hungry to wait for it to bake, so i would just fry it (ha. fry.) the way you used to do sometimes. but the long scaly shards were too long to fit into my pan, so i had to cut through them with a knife. i was literally gagging. rubbery. wet. cold. schnast me out!
there's olive oil grease all over my stove and counter. the fire alarm started going off because my 14th century house doesn't have a hood fan over the brick oven hearth. i may as well be cooking saber-tooth tiger over an open fire in a rock pit and then dragging my woman by her hair into the cave to make-em baby (probably just cuddle).
i seasoned the cod with the only spice i have in my kitchen, which is the garlic sea salt i used to use on my eggs in the morning, until i realized that stank wafted off of me all day. oh, and butter. lots of butter (it makes everything better!).
THEN, after all that, i didn't think the fish was fully cooked -- because it is a thick piece (that's what she said), and you KNOW how i am about jello-y fish. i KNOW you know. so i put it in the microwave for 1 minute, 11 seconds.
and now it's overcooked. and over-fried, so i can actually pick up the thin tail-y pieces and eat them like nacho chips. i wish i had some guac. the thicker piece isn't bad.
true story. and i should add that my salad turned out great, so that made me feel better. (store-bought, unwashed spring mix + sunflower seeds + oil&vinegar dressing = salad. and matthew = master salad chef! cookbook forthcoming!).
i guess this is all just my way of saying.... thanks for cooking my fish for the past 2 years. you are a fantastic cook.
...wanna make me dinner sometime soon? cpgb? please? you miss me.
the naked chef
and today i'm reminding myself to hang in there, stay focused, and delay gratification... for 47 more days. in 47 days i'll be lying on a ship with my best ho, sipping contraband vodka, and telling myself, "i'll get up and work out tomorrow, because tonight i am gonna EAT!"
for the time being, i should work on getting a base tan. even though i'm opposed to tanning and sunshine in general. today i walked the 18 blocks from PENN to 19th street, where i met my favorite lunch date, and the short walk was more than long enough to give me my first minor sunburn of the season. this will not surprise those of you who have seen how pale i am (and commented on it - patrick).
as for the rest of you, this will serve as a reminder that august is a short 47 days away. summer passes by so quickly (though not quickly enough for me this year), so live it up.
i admonish you to enjoy summer! don't put it off! procrastinate NOW. enjoy happy hours. make it to the beach. call in sick to work. seek happy nights to happy days.
and most importantly, be happy for this moment; this moment is your life.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
look, we get married tonight -- we wake up tomorrow, it's done. all right? we're still us. we don't even have to tell anybody... i want the whole wide world to know that you're mine.
who else's would i be?
don't mind me.
just.... watching old eps.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
This, all that life can give to you.
It is the season for wine, roses, and drunken friends.
Be happy for this moment,
This moment is your life.
from the poem, "persian love" by omar khayyam.
i love it.
the sexy european reads this poem to the even sexier diane lane in unfaithful, one of my favorite films.
i always remember it in the summer. i had to find it and share.
it just sounds like summer, doesn't it? if you say it out loud?
for instance, why would i study pages and pages of DUI law, when i could just call any one of my cousins in central PA and ask how everything went down when they were caught driving drunk?
and why would i study professional responsibility, when everyone knows lawyers disregard ethics anyway?
i just want to be a lawyer already.
this be the relief wall in my hallway. so random, right? just like the rest of the place.
i'm living in a renovated, probably several-hundred-year-old house, and certain parts of it make me remember that. like the dungeon in the basement. and the sconces all over the walls. and the chandelier in the hallway that looks like something that would've hung in a mead hall.
and in true andrew sullivan fashion, this be the view from my window:
one of the city's most beloved BYOB's. every evening i look down to see the tables filled, the antipasti and wine flowing, and the foodies enjoying themselves. i love that about this city.
Friday, June 13, 2008
an accent table here. a leather chair there.
700 dollars later, and my life is brilliant. my apartment: on its way there.
if only i could afford to spend the money and the time. not that it stops me from doing so.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
"matthew," it said, in its deep, james earl jones voice, "either you do laundry today, or you buy some new underpants before you come home. 'ya hear, boy?"
all morning i planned to walk down walnut street and buy new undies after my workout, mostly because i felt like i couldn't face the 6 piles -- yes, 6. i separated and counted last night -- of dirty laundry lying at home on my bedroom floor.
but then i got to thinking, if i buy underwear this time, who's to say i won't just buy new t-shirts next week, and maybe some new socks in three months? i have a TON of socks. i don't want to get into such a wasteful cycle. plus it's probably bad for the environment to not re-use things. or something. right?
so i'm doing laundry tonight. forever. because i care about the environment. i also bought energy-efficient light bulbs... oh, but then they weren't really bright enough, so i bought some CLEAR BRIGHT regular light bulbs to replace them. it's not easy being green, but i'm making an effort.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books.
Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders...
But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
i have bins for all types of laundry. i have separate drawers for dress socks, as distinguished from casual and athletic socks. i have a closet of suits and business wear and jeans. another closet for linens and casual clothing. i even have a closet dedicated to shoes; "so gay," as a recent visitor commented. and it doesn't stop there. there are about 10 drawers and shelves in my kitchen for which i have absolutely no use. though i will note that one shelf has now been designated my reusable-chinese-takeout-plastic-container shelf. it holds the only "tupperware" i own.
when cpgb came to visit, she pointed out that if cats grow like fish do (in case you don't know, many fish will continue to grow larger and larger when put in larger and larger tanks), then atticus might soon be the size of a panther.
a lot of space, and all to myself. with the caveat that i thoroughly appreciate my new home, i'll say that having all this space doesn't really seem necessary. in fact, there are moments when i think it makes me feel more alone.
if it weren't for bar class, i wouldn't have talked to one person today. on a day when i don't have bar class -- sunday, for example -- the only people i conversed with in person were store employees. and for many people, this is normal life. i would say i can't imagine it, but i'm beginning to get a taste of it. i expect i'll understand it even better in the final weeks of july. i'll go to starbucks not for the coffee but for the people.
i also suspect that this is one reason people "need" television. they turn on the television to hear voices, to see people. no judgment; it makes sense, and if i had television, it would be on right now. not that i'm without remedy: i guess my substitutes are celeblogs. and facebook. and por--- um... and youtube. yeah, youtube. love it.
it's a good thing i'm not afraid of thunder and lightning, because outside my curtain-less windows, quite a storm is raging.
after years of proclaiming the benefits of walking and, especially, living in a city where i can walk everywhere, i took a bus 5 blocks today. i didn't even get through 1 robyn song before my ride was over. i just couldn't bear to walk.
as i was walking from the bus to my front door, i saw a genuinely homeless, shoe-less man lying on the sidewalk brushing his teeth. with real toothpaste and a toothbrush. just as i began thinking to myself how much i respect his dedication to dental hygiene, i noticed that instead of spitting the excess, he was allowing it to pour down from his open mouth all over his shirt. i gotta give the crazy guy props, but he still doesn't get my spare change.
i stayed awake in class this morning with the help of only one coffee. seriously, didn't even doze off or nod my head and have to catch myself as it fell. i was wide awake, even though i only got 10 hours of sleep last night. crazy.
last night my terribly behaved pussifer jumped up onto the kitchen counter and knocked over a huge glass of water, spilling it all over my counter and kitchen floor. i picked up my dripping wet kitchen rug so that it could dry. just minutes later, through sheer clumsiness, i spilled spaghetti sauce all over my kitchen floor... but not my rug. easy clean-up: a few paper towels. did atticus know what was about to happen, so he saved my rug from inevitable stainage and mess? possibly.
also, today i went to the gym, and.... well. that in itself is crazy and unusual.
Monday, June 9, 2008
it encourages me when someone who we might assume would not understand finally gets it. gets what the church - her church, if you will - is doing.
this woman and i were two of six panelists at an 'LGBT in the profession' panel organized and sponsored by two huge corporations here in philly. the entire experience was edifying. ask me about it someday. or ask A. he was there, in the 4th row, being a wonderful, supportive boo.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
how am i supposed to be using this hot mustard? my dish is already spicy (and yet sweet, at the same time).
i keep these hot mustards, along with packs of soy sauce and duck sauce, in my refrigerator. why? because it's food, and i might need it someday. occasionally i'll need soy sauce. it's nice to have duck sauce around for the next time i have some boring rice. yet as i look back over the years, i have never actually needed the spicy mustard.
please, someone, enlighten me.
Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.
despite being a lawyer himself, gandhi likely didn't realize how difficult it would be for one to implement this little nugget of wisdom when one is studying for the bar exam.
the balance between intense bar studying and living each day to its fullest continues to elude me. but isn't that the way with life itself? i don't know about you, but for me, every single day is a struggle between want to and need to. maybe today is the day i'll be enlightened.
Friday, June 6, 2008
but that's just it: irrational as it may be, the small things are what get to us most. as i sit waiting for a call back from tech support, i can't help but think about why this is...
here's the thing. if you tell me that someone has cancer, or someone died, i might feel sad for a little while. but at the end of the day, i tell myself that, "it's okay. people die." it's part of life. people get sick, and people die. it's been happening for as long as humans have existed. it will continue to happen until the glaciers melt and drown us all. i can deal with most of life's hardships.
but the minute my computer stops functioning properly or my car doesn't start, i. am. a. wreck. the malfunction of appliances, gadgets, and technology can arouse in me untold levels of anger and destructive behavior, such as screaming, kicking, and gnashing of teeth. i cannot deal with these "little things" going wrong in life. and don't get all judgy mcjudgerson on me for my little admission, because you know i'm not the only one.
years ago, when i single-handedly ran my own starbucks in pittsburgh, as i prefer to remember it, i used to ponder this aspect of the psyche. back then it truly amazed me how some of our nicest, most friendly customers could instantly turn into demons because "i said SKIM! this is NOT SKIM!" (me: actually, you didn't say skim. i'm not deaf.) or "why didn't you put whipped cream on my frappuccino!? they come with whipped cream!" (me: ma'am, that's a frappuccino light... but i can put cream on it if you want. meanwhile, my brain: but you're offensively obese, and becoming moreso with every sip).
i once witnessed an irate customer storm out of my store, turn around, and throw her quad-venti vanilla no-foam latte at our front glass door. i forget what was wrong with her drink that day, but i remember her and her daily order just like it was yesterday. her name was "kathy the bitch" and she came in every morning at 6 am to order her quad-venti vanilla no-foam latte*, which she ordered by throwing a $5 at the cashier, making no eye contact, saying nothing, and going to stand by the drink pick-up bar. she was a real treat.
kathy the bitch probably sounds schizo to you, but she probably isn't that much different than a lot of coffee shop regulars -- especially female ones. (no offense.) many people are extremely particular about their coffee. but why?
"it's just coffee," my underlings and i used to complain. and that's the basis of my theory.
because it's "just coffee," and people think they can control little things like how they drink their coffee or how they prefer their sandwiches, or what accessories they'll use in their cars, these little things have to be perfect. under control. functioning. reliable. dependable.
because no one can control who gets cancer and when, and no one can control whether a baby is miscarried, we don't get as irate about those things. we might feel sad, but we tell ourselves, "these things happen." the real troubles in life happen TO us; whereas the little malfunctions, the "little things," in life can be prevented, and when they are not successfully prevented, we lose our tempers. we feel angry because we realize that we have even less control than we thought we had. this is extremely frustrating in a world that spins madly out of control.
that's pretty much all i've got right now. that's my best explanation, though i guess we could all try to be less irrational about the little things.
by the way, my internet is up and running. the geek on the phone thanked me for the challenge. seriously, he did. it wasn't a routine problem, as it turned out, like he normally has to deal with. and he appreciated doing something different this afternoon. yeah, steve... so did i. real fun day. glad we could spend it together.
a little something extra:
*for those of you who still don't speak starbucks, i'll translate:
-quad - 4 shots
-venti - 20 ounce coffee
-vanilla - optional flavored syrup pumped into the steamed milk
-no-foam - none of the naturally-occurring steamed milk foam allowed in the cup. it does just waste expensive cup space, so i often order my lattes like sans foam.
-latte - shots of espresso mixed with steamed milk and normally about a half-inch of foam (except when ordered without), not to be confused with a cappuccino, which is basically half milk and half foam, which means you're paying for half air by ordering it. waste.
i asked if i could call the store in the event that i was having problems connecting to the internet
his advice was to first go to online tech support.
he gave me a web address.
if i were having trouble
connecting to the internet.
remember that postman who climbed to the top of town hall and started shooting?
you know, i don't think what he did was that crazy.
he probably had to deal with some computer store techie that morning.
then he just lost it.
i think the guy deserved a break. maybe do a little community service. plant a tree. something.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
It can be quite an awakening time, for there aren't any limits on your far-reaching ideas now. An unremarkable social event can lead you in a direction that is very advantageous to you at work. Mixing business and pleasure isn't always a smart idea, yet today it can lead you in the direction you need to travel.
the first part: the usual horoscope BS. i have no far-reaching ideas of which to speak. so shove it, astrologers!
but i will admit, the second part is curious. because tonight i'm going to a swanky alumni dinner event in honor of the dean of my law school. and by "my" i mean i owned that bitch. and while i thought about backing out because it might be "an unremarkable social event," i convinced myself that the free dinner and wine will make it worthwhile. (oh, who am i kidding? i live for things like this. i picked out my outfit a week ago.)
well, now i wonder if it will be worthwhile for other reasons as well. mixing business and pleasure? travel? direction? sounds good...
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
the normal, cute MC goes something like this one:
Phillies game- Tuesday night (Sisters) - m4w - 28 (Phillies Game)To the two sisters me and my brother were talking to at McFadden's.....I feel stupid. I should have asked you guys for drinks some time. Well if you see this feel free to contact me. I hope those tickets did you well.
i think that's what the MC page was intended to facilitate.
of course, in the gay community they tend to be a liiiiiiiiitle bit more explicit:
Bartending Class - m4m - 21 (Manayunk)Extremely hot tan guy (nova, maybe?) in the daily bartending class in manayunk.. i wanna suck you off so badly. Hit me up.
but that's just how gays are. dirty and forward. and they're all hair-dressers. no surprise there.
but lately i've been surprised at how many sad MC's i've seen. love lost. love driven away. love unappreciated 'til it was gone. all the time, they're posted!
they're not so much missed connections as they are attempts to reach out, say what should've been said earlier, and maybe - just maybe - be heard by the intended, long-lost reader (whose number is probably still in the poster's mobile, just a drunk text away).
i'm talking about posts like this:
Wishing for something different - w4mI know the odds are against us...but I miss you.
I cry every night that you're not next to me. You get used to that closeness after a while...
I'm sorry for everything and that I couldn't be stronger. I tried, but it's just too much to handle. I need to take care of myself.
I hope you find what makes you happy and that you have the family you're looking for. I wish, more than anything, that I could have been the one. We could have been heroes.
well, i don't know about you, but i don't want to be writing any of these silly, miscategorized missed connections in the future... although i did appreciate her nod to a sweet david bowie classic. anyway, let's all just say what we have to say, when it's time to say it, before it's too late. agreed? agreed.
so here's my own missed connection, just for fun. a real MC. the way an MC was intended:
Green shirt & glasses today - m4m - 25 (building on mkt)saw u in the office today. lime-ish green Polo button-down, glasses. cute smile.
i want 2 git wit u, but i'm 2 shy 2 say anything when co-workers r around.
hit me up sometime if ur down.
tell me what i wuz wearin' so i know its really you.
When the dotted line of light illuminates your path and new clarity rings like a bell on a cold morning, then things are as they should be, and I find it’s less the “clouds” have parted than it is the “coulds.”
found it on a starbucks cup.
re-found it in a pile of junk as i was moving.
yes, i went through a short (but prolific in terms of quote accumulation) cutting-up-my-starbucks-cups-and-saving-them phase.
no, YOU'RE a loser!
don't judge me.
as i sit writing this, tears well up - ever so small - in the corners of my eye.
i couldn't understand what was going on.
finally in a freak-out, i called a friend and asked for help.
when he didn't answer, i thought about sending a text reading, "EMERGENCY CALL ME" so that he'd call me from work. instead i just called back until he answered.
it went something like this:
"i'm freaking out, i haven't been able to get online for 2 days and it's NOT the internet because i'm at brewhaha and people around me are on the internet. WHAT IS GOING ON!?!?!"
"oh.... i ... thought something was wrong."
"i'm FREAKING OUT! something's wrong with my computer! should i go buy a new one?!"
a little playing around, and it turned out that somehow my lappy's IP address had been deleted.
a little more playing around, and i got it back. and i got online. and i peed myself out of relief.
crisis averted. thank blog.
and now i can't help but think atticus is out to get me. maybe this horrible incident was far from unintentional.
the fact is that in the middle of the night, someone deleted the IP address from my internetwork connections setup. clearly, it wasn't the WIND. it wasn't a BURGLAR. and it wasn't me. i was asleep, and i haven't slept-walked (.... sleep-walked? whatever.) since around age 7, when my mom woke up and found me ASLEEP but peeing down the stairway in our house as if it were a urinal.
i'm going to install nanny cams to find out what that cat does when i'm away and asleep. something tells me there's more to him than he's letting on. oh yes. there's more than meets the eye.
Manolo and Louis, it's all I'm thinking of
I already know what my addiction is
I be looking for labels, I ain't looking for love
I shop for purses while love walks out the door
Don't cry, buy a bag and get over it...
What I know is that I'm always happy when I walk out the store
I'm guessing Supercalifragi-sexy, nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him, tryna to walk a mile in my kicks
Love's like a runway
But which one do I love more?
No emotional baggage, just big bags filled with Dior
Love's like a runway, so what's all the fussing for?
Let's stop chasing them boys and shop some more.
well, fergie has done it again. another ode to high-end designers. another catchy tune devoid of meaning or spirit.
the lyrics are reminiscent of a 12-year old girl's fanciful songwriting on the bus ride home.
another hit quickly thrown together with the sole purpose of making a huge wad of cash.
this song embodies everything that true musicians and music connoisseurs hate about pop music and the general degradation of the object of their affections.
you know, i'll go as far as to say that this song is what's wrong with popular music.
and i effing love it.
the tune has been on my iPod for only 3 days, and i'm already up to about 30 plays. at the gym. on the bus. in my kitchen. i can't get enough of this ridonkulous stuff. "solid gold sh*t," eh?
i would've had more plays under my fergie belt, but iTunes foiled my attempts to download it. after seeing SATC friday evening, i rushed home and hopped online to try to d/l this song, which was stuck in my poor, ever-stupidering (?) head. and iTunes screamed out, "ALBUM ONLY, FOCKER!"
well, iTunes, i beat you. thanks to my little music faErie, i got the song. SUCK ON THAT!
Monday, June 2, 2008
Scream, shout, jump up and down. No matter. The gay-marriage issue is over and done with.
The upshot: love won.
One of the most transformative social movements over our lifetime has been the battle for gay rights, and the key to its great success has been the grass-roots phenomenon of exploding stereotypes by simply saying, "Yes, I am." Each time the woman at the next desk or the guy down the street lets it be known that he or she is gay, it takes another brick out of the wall of division. Or, as Ellen DeGeneres told John McCain on her show recently, "We are all the same people, all of us."
That's what the California Supreme Court said when it ruled that gay couples should have the right to marry as a matter of basic equality. Before you could say "Jonathan and Andrew request the honour of your presence," opponents were suggesting that civilization would crash and burn if two guys could register at Pottery Barn and raise kids in a ranch house. All those wailing that gay marriage is an invention of amoral modernism might want to consider these lines from a Roman poem of the second century A.D.:
"The bearded Callistratus married the rugged Afer
Under the same law by which a woman takes a husband
Torches were carried before him, a bridal veil covered his face."
In the wake of the court's decision, those folks vowed to find a way to protect the sanctity of hetero marriage, that time-honored staple of sitcom mockery and savage custody fights. Polls showing opposition to gay marriage were proffered to prove that the court had overstepped its bounds, ignoring the fact that the most sacred business of judges is not to ratify the will of the majority but to protect the minority from its tyranny.
...But it's not really courts and legislatures that will settle this issue. It's the neighbors, friends and family members who have come out and made the political personal—and lovable. Jennifer? Smart, funny Jennifer? Of course she should be able to marry Anne. They're perfect together...
Gay men and lesbians have prospered because they've refused to acquiesce to the notion that they should hide their lives from public view. Two by two they've adopted children, bought homes, volunteered in their communities and slogged through life together just the way hetero couples do, except without preferential tax codes, inheritance rights and the automatic assumption that they can make decisions for one another in emergency situations. Too often, without legal protection, they have found themselves dependent on the kindness of those who were not kind, like the man in Indiana who became severely disabled and whose parents prohibited his partner of 25 years from visiting him in their home.
Here's what I don't understand: is there so much love and commitment in the world that we can afford, as a society, to be contemptuous of some portion of it? If two women in white want to join hands in front of their families and friends and vow to love and honor one another until they die, the only reasonable response to that is happy tears, awed admiration and societal approval. And—this part is just personal opinion—one of those big honking KitchenAid mixers with the dough hook.
Before we know it that will be the response everywhere, not just in Denmark and the Netherlands and Canada and California: approval, appliances. The polls predict the future. The younger you are, the more likely you are to know someone who is gay. The more likely you are to know someone who is gay, the more likely you are to support gay marriage. The opposition is aging out.
Someday soon the fracas surrounding all this will seem like a historical artifact, like the notion that women were once prohibited from voting and a black individual from marrying a white one... The California Supreme Court called gay marriage a "basic civil right." In hindsight, it will merely be called ordinary life.
and all God's people said, "AMEN."
i* woke up this morning in a new bed, with new light shining through windows through which i had never before seen 6 AM light shine. for the first time in 3 years, i have sunlight filling my home. that's not a metaphor; i just have huge windows reaching to my ceiling, and i can't afford drapes.
it was only 2 blocks, but it felt like a very, very big move. in a couple ways, really. first, it felt like i moved a gajillion tons of furniture, books, and clothing. two days of near-hell, let me tell you (and they happened to be the two hottest days of the summer, thus far). it was all worth it, in the end, and -- call me masochistic -- it was even kinda fun. it was, in a weird way, quality time with the boy. and now that we've seen one another dirty, red, literally dripping with sweat, and dehydrated, there'll be no more of the silly and time-consuming pre-date grooming i've been wasting so much time doing lately (like shaving, showering, and brushing my teeth).
more notably, however, is that it felt like a big move personally, 'ya know? a big step. a big change. say big again! big. first time living alone. lots of space to myself and my catticus. and today, as i finally sit down and look around, i feel refreshed, clear-minded (maybe because, for the first weekend in about 4 years, i was sober the entire time! seriously!), and ready for tomorrow. hopefully this feeling will continue as i sit down to study. hopefully i'll feel this clear-minded for the next 2-months of potentially mind-numbing bar review. hopefully i'll stop skipping bar class in order to do other things.
in other news, atticus has finally stopped creeping from room to room, presumably searching for gnomes in this new magical land, and has found a spot on the sunny window sill next to me. i think he will like it here, especially once i have some living room furniture. until then, i'm open to decorating tips and visits from neighbors.