Ladies Who Lunch

D-rell was on the UW campus today with 30 of his high schoolers. I met up with him and we had lunch. A lot of interesting things happened:

1. I told him what "Superman dat hoe" means.

2. He bragged about how much he spent in Las Vegas ("The tickets were $150!" "We ate at the highest grossing restaurant in the world!" "We didn't crash with Libby. We stayed at a hotel!")

3. I encouraged him to stick to his guns about Parke choreographing his next musical.

4. I showed him pictures of my bf to prove that Jeff's real.

5. Nobody got hurt.

Commercials, Cars, Christmas

In the spirit of my "everyday" vs. "every day" post, I'm going to rant about something that's not important but still really bothers me: those commercials on TV where people get cars for Christmas. Seriously. Who gets a car for Christmas? (Jeff says he knows someone who did once, but that was in California, which I don't count as part of my reality.)

My least favorite one goes like this:

Interior: A tastefully furnished upper-middle-class home.

Well-dressed woman looks upset about something. Her husband is clearly the cause of her low-level angst.

Well-dressed woman goes outside and is shocked (SHOCKED!), surprised (SURPRISED!), and ebullient (EBULLIENT!) to see a brand new car in the driveway.

Well-dressed woman embraces her husband and they are happy.

I also really don't like that chorus of duhs commerical. Duh is so 1990s.

I don't actually watch that much TV. Well, that's not completely true. I watch my fair share, but almost always after the show's been recorded so we can fast forward through the commercials. It is awesome to fast forward through the commercials. That may be one of the better technological advances of my lifetime thus far.

This should make Charlie laugh:

Why female genital mutilation won't get you asylum

But really it's horrible.

What is the What in Real Life

This article came out in the paper today:

Sudanese man sentenced in killing

If you haven't read What is the What this won't make sense to you.

Also, if you haven't read it, you really should.

Passion or Affliction?

I really like this advice column "Since You Asked" that Cary Tennis writes on Salon. It's like Savage Love only for huge dorks instead of crazy pervs.

For example: Help! I'm addicted to Harry Potter fan fiction!

Here's the first part:

"I am in my 30s, finished my Ph.D. dissertation recently, teaching classes at universities, applying for jobs, and have two kids under 10 years old with my husband. In fact, I should be too busy to be writing to you.

The problem is that I'm addicted to fan fiction. Especially a small fraction of online fan fiction, with which you may or may not be familiar, but has a fanatical group of followers. Yes, I'm an HP fan-fiction groupie."

My favorite part is that she's specifically obsessed with Ron and Hermione's relationship. Who isn't? I mean, it's just so beautiful. Gosh, I wonder how she felt when she found out Dumbledore's gay. You've heard that right? BJ called me and said "Finally, a gay wizard role model."


Cary's advice was that she shouldn't be ashamed because there's nothing wrong with reading and enjoying it. Oh that we could all work a little less and imagine a little more.

Halloween Wrap Up

Another Halloween has come and gone. Jeff (who reads this, I think--hi, Jeff) didn't want to half-ass costumes at the last minute for my dad's party, so we just wore what we'd been wearing that day. In my mind, I was a PC and he was a Mac because I was wearing brown pants and he was wearing jeans. But nobody actually asked us what we were supposed to be.

Here's my favorite scene from my dad's Halloween party:

DAD: (drunk and probably high) Have you checked out the rec room? I got this awesome Flat Tire poster from a friend.

ME: (totally sober and not having a good time) Do you mean Fat Tire, like the beer?

DAD: Ha ha, I guess I don't know because I don't drink very much.

ME: Ha ha. Sure.

DAD: If I drank a lot I'd know what that beer was really called!

ME: Or you could just read it right.

DAD: Or I could just smack you.

(Awkward silence.)

END OF PLAY

Jeff and I left pretty soon after that.

Anyway, to end things on a positive note, here's a picture of my niece:

I CAN HAZ BOIFREND?

RLY????!!!!111