I sleep to dream.

Lately I have been feeling earthquakes no one else feels. I'm batting maybe .0001 on this, only sometimes are there actual earthquakes. Tonight it happened again while I was watching tv. Usually it's at 2 am, I feel like the bed is rocking (get your mind out of the gutter. I spoon with my pillow, people) I think maybe because I live in a high rise this is actually possible (the building is on springs and shakes and I am sensitive like a cat), but who knows, I may just still have sea legs from my cruise last year. (You weren't there. It was ROCKY!)

At dinner tonight, I realized my recurring dreams fall into three themes:

1) I am balding in a big bad way (in the dream it's not funny, trust me), completely suddenly/overnight
2) I am peeing and have an audience that won't leave
3) I am shot (it doesn't hurt by the way. It's a warm fuzzy feeling, except when I realize that, well, I've been shot)

The only ways I can think to deal with these potentialities are:

1) Don't wear baseball caps excessively (which I don't), don't overuse gel (which I ceased under duress around 1996)
2) Don't use urinals anymore!!! Silly me.
3) Don't drive through Watts in a convertible.

Any other suggestions?

The PolyLillybic Spree

I love the book THE POLYSYLLABIC SPREE by Nick Hornby. In it, he lists the books he acquires and the books he reads in a given month. If you are not a reader, this would strike you as an incredibly dull activity. However, if you are among us, the book-buying masses, the collectors of volumes there aren't enough hours to read you will understand why this is interesting. Because sometimes what you buy has just as much to say about you as what you put the time into reading. It's a cool way to log your life.

I will now steal a page from him (and Jon) and try my hand at it. March (so far). My Life in Books.


Septembers of Shiraz by Dalia Sopher (sp?)
*I haven't read as many of the middle eastern novels/memoirs that have come out in recent years as I'd like to have read. I read READING LOLITA IN TEHRAN and the 4 volumes of PERSEPOLIS and THE KITE RUNNER and then I was kinda worn out of the movement. An old friend of Mom's (am American who lived in Shiraz) recommended this. She's coming to visit and I bought it in honor of her good literary taste, even though I'm sure I won't have time to crack it before she arrives.

What is the What by Dave Eggers
*I put off reading this book for a long while because I didn't like the way I was introduced to it. (I'll leave my explanation at that) I finally received it as a gift for my birthday and I began to read it-- and couldn't stop. I bought it because my copy is currently circulating among my socially-conscious friends and I'm part of a chain letter that involves sending a book you loved to someone else. I went and bought this specifically for that purpose.

Accounting Text and Cases
*Behold! The joys of accrual-based accounting! How did I live for SO LONG without this one?!


Silk by someone Italian
*I was looking for a slim book to read while I"m so slammed with work and life. I picked this novella up off my parents' shelf and zipped right through it. It's the story of a French man's escapades in the silk industry, which take him through Japan and into the sights of a mystery woman. This is a fantastic example of the power of carefully-chosen words. It was very poetic in a way that didn't make me feel like I was cheating by reading something short.


The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield
*After I read Special Topics in Calamity Physics I promised myself I would go on a book-lover-binge and read books about book lovers (a strange but fun subcategory). Then I kinda just started reading other things. This had been on the top of my "read next" list during that inspired phase. It was also the citywide book selection when I was living in SF. It was a Christmas present a year ago (ie. Xmas 2006). So lots of reasons to pick it up. I love it so far, in a "I can't focus on what I"m doing because I'd rather be reading my mystery" way.

I have been trying to use the library more. I miss that joy of piling books so high I can't see over them (as in childhood, so it continues!) I've reserved some new ones, so maybe I'll add a "BORROWED FROM THE LIBRARY LIKE A GOOD CITIZEN" sub-category.

Books books books. I love them so much I would eat them if I could.

Two For the Price of One.

So I'm reading a book about twins. Lost twins, dead twins, you name it. Lately twins have been a theme in my life. A guy in my class is apparently a twin, and I restrained myself from the traditional barrage of questions that twins are subjected to. I never knew they were so subjected until Alpha Twin Jon Yang pointed out to me the stupidity of questions people ask, and their incessant fascination with aliens, I mean, twins. So it began. Then I started reading this book. Then today at lunch I met a guy who has a twin brother and who largely planned his living and educational experiences in college around his brother's compatibility. Twins twins twins. They're everywhere I go.

Twins came up yet again during a screening Degrassi Junior High chez Susie and Miguel. They were watching their show, and I found myself enraptured with the twins Erica and something or other (I was distracted by her skort, truth be told) as they pulled the old switcheroo on a guy who didn't want to go out with one of them. Do twins really do this stuff or is this only in the movies and in Sweet Valley High?

I'm sure there was a week or two when I was younger that I would have wanted a twin. Susie remembers my childhood in more detail than I do, so perhaps she can pipe in. I do recall that it was de rigeur at Highland Park high school- we had many sets of them. But I never wanted them as badly as other people did. Why would I want someone to compete with THAT directly? I think not. Who wants to be the sister of "the cuter one"? I think our parents putting us in matching clothes, even just a few times a year and in choice Units ensembles, was enough to beat any interest in twin-dom out of us.

I wonder if twins feel overshadowed in the age of the fertility drug. I mean, when we have tv shows like John and Kate Plus Eight, two feels like a measly number. Who ISN'T having twins these days?

But on a more serious note (if only briefly), the book I'm reading (THE THIRTEENTH TALE, by Diane Setterfield) mentions that perhaps twins are just complete. The rest of us go around looking for our soulmates, our counterparts, our partners, but twins have that completion from day one. I wonder if that feels true. I wonder if twins feel less pressure to settle down or find a partner because they have a partner in crime from their grand entrance into the world. More than that, though, I was struck by the author's self-assuredness that everyone does wander earth looking for their perfect match. I feel like there's an easter hunt and I wasn't invited. Sure, as you have heard me whine about, I'd love a great relationship as well as the next girl, but not to the extent of feeling "incomplete". (there will be no Jerry McGuire'ing in this house!)

I'm all about 'signs'. I feel like there's a reason all this twin stuff is happening in my life. Now to channel my inner Jessica Fletcher and figure out why.

Public Frenemy #1

This just in: Public Frenemy #1 just got engaged.

This is the part when I'm supposed to be a big person, but I'm not interested in playing that role today. Today I get to be bitchy, ahem, I mean OBJECTIVE.

Public Frenemy is neither attractive nor nice. Nor charming. Nor funny. I'm assuming you already know what a Frenemy is, but lest you be unawares, it's someone who you pretend to be friends with but basically you can't stand each other. There are various reasons that people are frenemies. Allow me to list them (from my own sociological research):


1) The Lazy Frenemy: Old friends, habit, inability to cut tie without awkwardness (this specie closely resembles #2). You have probably caught yourself saying "With friends like these....!"
2) The Pack Frenemy: Shared group membership, such as sorority sisters, high school buddies, etc. This group also includes members of your own family and family friends for certain cultures (such as mine). Most likely you know this person less than the Type 1, but they are equally annoying, I assure you.
3) The Oxygen Frenemy: Frequency of contact with said person mandates falsely social behavior. See also: coworkers, classmates, the girl who checks you in to the gym.

Suffice it to say that this chick and I, we're frenemies. She knows it and I know it. Once when I was on vacation she went out of her way to creatively fabricate and spread a rumor that I was seriously dating someone "old and ugly" behind my parents' back with direct plotting for it to get back to my mom. Haha, I don't date! Who's laughing now! (Secondly, if you knew my parents you'd know they'd take anything at this point!)

I just want you to know where I'm coming from, i.e. she has been correctly classified as Frenemy, subgenus Unprovoked Backstabbing Bitchicus. Once or twice a year when we have to be at friends' togethers I am forced to break a smile and act among our friends as if I am as adoring of her as, well, she is. But in general I practice avoidance. Social abstinence as it were.

So here's the rub: I spend all this time telling people that I believe in karma, and that I believe good things happen to good people, then some data like this comes along and fucks it all up. I can't divulge too many details lest PF1 figure out who I'm talking about, but let's just say she's had more than her share of good luck in this lifetime. And I KNOW you're supposed to keep your eye on your own path, but you can't help it, can you? If you're human? Maybe she had a really shitty past life. I'm going to go with that thought for now. But honestly, I joke, but this is really throwing me off. These are not just the rantings of a self-pitying single girl (I said "just"!, I'm honest!) -- they are the observations of the Truly Baffled.

Let's be clear- what this is about, ladies and gentlemen (for her), is bragging rights. Someone afflicted with Personality Diarrhea (see previous blog posts for examples of the behavior of afflicted individuals) now has even MORE to talk about about herself. Blech. I am bracing myself and trying to find ways to overcome this adversity given that OF COURSE as fate would have it I am going to see her before the weekend is out. (a weekend which has just been upgraded to a bender, I assure you)

Fans of my academic work might be pleased to know that she is further evidence in support of my Thesis: "A Little Bitchiness Never Killed a Relationship: A Sociological Perspective" (tentative title). Someone who "launched a thousand nerves" (Helen had ships, she gets nerves), who has such an edge, such a sharp tongue, all of it, is ADORED? Does anyone know another synonym for "baffled"? "Astounded"? I need some new ones.

Now - Fact: This past weekend a man was proposing to his girlfriend and he had put the engagement ring in a helium balloon and...

(guess what happened next)

Yup. That. The balloon, carrying the $12,000 ring, blew away.

But it gets better: now she is MAD at him. And yes, he still wants to marry her.


I want one.

Tired is the new cool.

I should probably feel guilty for blogging, particularly as I probably owe whoever is reading this an email!

I am so tired. Someone pointed out the other day that I've been sick most of 2008, which felt like, well, not a lucky start to the year. I started to wonder if it was allergies, and now that my neighbors across the house (yes, those of previous post fame) have mold and have to tear down their walls, I am getting all whatever-the-equivalent-of-hypochondria-is-for-your-house. I have been snooping around for signs of dampness, dark marks on the walls, and peeling wallpaper. If anyone has any household mold questions, I'm your go-to girl.

Failing that (my investigations are as yet inconclusive), after an excessive nap on Friday (after sleeping in in the morning, so there was really no excuse), Jessica brought up the possibility that perhaps we have carbon monoxide leaking somewhere. So I jumped on Amazon and ordered a detector. Sidenote: I'm quickly becoming like that guy who years ago locked himself inside and decided he'd .com order anything he needed to live on (did he prove it possible? I know I could, thank you Amazon Prime shipping!)

So anyhow, in CASE I am getting Carbon Monoxide poisoning, I want you all to know that at least I thought of you, all four of you, and blogged in your honor.

I've been trying to figure out the perfect theme to riff on for my next blog post (which was going to be this post, but as you understand, I am indisposed at the moment). If you have any requests, let me know.

In the meantime, I will leave you with this bit of Lilly wisdom: "Bust a Move" never fails to get the dance floor going.