to recess or not to recess.

NYSE The truth is, I don't know jack about economics. I never took macro or micro in college I mean--I don't even balance my checkbook.

That's probably why I didn't understand this story on Marketplace which said the "business barometer," put out by the National Association of Purchasing Management in Chi (which has predicted 4 of the last 5 recessions says the U.S. "could be in a recession at this time."

How come we don't know? Do you not know until after? Seems like if the key feature of recession is "spending is down" and spending is, in fact, down...



hangover's hangover

I stayed home yesterday with a case of dehydration so severe I could hardly walk across the room. And my pee was orange. ORANGE.

Anyway, I wasn't tired (just dizzy) so before 11 am I had watched everything worth watching on TiVo (read: everything that's not a cop show). Needless to say, my DVD player got a workout: Full Frontal (which, despite the fact I was fully awake, I napped through), Lost in Translation (which was pretty good for a movie in which nothing really happened. SERIOUSLY, you're in JAPAN. DO SOMETHING.), Chicago (wanted to watch that one again since I saw Queen Latifah on Inside the Actors Studio), and the second DVD of The Godfather, Part II (in which alot happened, even though Joe didn't think anything happened. Connie's back! Fredo's dead! Hope that didn't spoil anything!).

Today my brain got a workout as I returned to work with the flourescent lights (not good for the dizziness)and found out another in my department had been out Monday too, hanging out with his wife who's getting ready to have their first baby.

Never tequila, never mixed with whiskey, never on top of too little water to begin with. Never the two day hangover plus dizziness on the third day again.

head up.

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yellow dress.

As promised to one of you, here are some pictures of my yellow bridesmaid's dress.

Hanging on my roommate's doorframe:


A blurry detail of the rosebuds:


A better detail of the back:


Me in it:


The photos don't really do the yellowness or the prettiness of this dress justice, but this detail does. It's not the best color for my skin tone, but it's also not my wedding. As much as I've complained about the color and price of it, I really am happy to be a bridesmaid.

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name selected at random.

Along with the usual credit card bills, and notifications from my magazine subscription that unless I pay now I MAY EXPERIENCE A BREAK IN SUBSCRIPTION, I got this in my mail pile today:

called up

A jury questionnaire. Am I pissed? Nope. I AM READY TO SERVE MY DUTY. I AM GLAD TO BE A REGISTERED VOTER.

I wonder where I can write in that I live with a cop, and a left winger, AND I've given money to NARAL and The Human Rights Campaign. ALSO NPR. I am FREAKISHLY LIBERAL. I CAN NEVER CONVICT ANYONE EVER. HERE ARE MORE CAPITAL LETTERS.

Besides, it's just the survey.

UPDATE Ok now I am mad, the thing isn't postage paid! I have to put a stamp on the blasted thing! Who has stamps anymore??

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i really, really hate myspace pages.

crapspaceMy friends talk about finding old classmates and long lost friends on myspace all the time. If only the interface weren't so crappy and people didn't have such bad taste in formatting (why the song? WHY the white text on the red background? why do those words have to move?), I would friend-search as well. But it hurts my eyes and my head and all of my sensibilities. And I am not alone. Also here. (Click through for full appreciation of the image)




fun in the luggage room

This is proof. If Jen and I can have fun in the luggage storage room of X Random Hotel on the Upper West Side, we can have fun anywhere.

More to come.

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barefoot + thirsty

I'm getting on a plane in just a short period of time, sans liquids but with dry eyes and a scratchy throat.

While Joe is away gaming his heart out, I'm off to NYC to meet up with my friend Jen from Seattle. Jen and I were randomly placed together as roommates in our homestay in Italy. We were fast friends and when she told me she was going to be on the east coast she asked me to decide where to meet her: Boston or New York.

"Well, it doesn't really matter," I replied. "We could have fun together in a paper bag."



testing, testing.

My sister gave me a digital camera this weekend, one she never uses. I think it serves dual purpose as she's a blog reader who enjoys photos like this one:


Our new living room, complete with always-present mess on the coffee table, curtains messed up from the cats tearing around and RED furniture. Also shoes. You can tell where I was sitting tonight, esp if you click through to the big one.



some questions i was asked this weekend.

  • May I help you?
  • Are you the bride?
  • Have you been helped?
  • Is she the bride?
  • What is the bride's name?
  • Are you going to buy that?
  • Will you chop that?
  • Can you bring some basil over?
  • How is the new house?
  • How do you like your new job?
  • Why don't you live on the Southside?
  • Is your house back to normal yet?
  • Have you seen a picture of BethAnn's new baby?
  • What is your dad's new job?
  • Is that your new Civic in the driveway?
  • Debit or credit?
  • Do you think that line is faster?
  • What does a Pims taste like?
  • How are you?
  • How is HotCop?
  • Where is HotCop?
  • You want design?
  • You want nails done too?
  • Who did your nails?
  • Will you give Sandy some love while I'm gone?
  • Can you open this for me?
  • Will you peel these potatoes?
  • Can you get me a popsicle?




That's aahhh like WHEW not AAAAAAHHHHH. Furniture's back in place, carpet has a new pad and has been steam cleaned and deodorized, but Beatrice still isn't sure what's going on. She met me at the door when I got home from work but quickly ran upstairs as I jumped up and down yelling YAAYAY YAY YAY!!

Lots of stuff going on this weekend-- off to get my (yellow) bridesmaid dress this morning for Sara's wedding (the one who broke her neck last year), my sisters are in town for my dad's Hurry and Celebrate Jim's Retirement Before He Starts His New Job on the 21st Party.

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i can't even explain to you how mad i am.

I got home today, no new carpet padding. Despite the fact that we had been promised it.

No message from the property manager, telling me why my house is still a shithole.

I'm pissed. Mostly because this is my Night In. The one night for the rest of the week I have to watch TiVo, hang out with my cat and generally sloth it up.

Seriously. This kind of lack of follow up is what we -thought- we moved away from.

And what gets me is that I KNEW this was going to happen. I KNEW something was going to go wrong once we got all settled in. That's why it took so long.

I'm done. I'm so freaking done.

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