I heart RBG

The current Supreme Court makes me cranky. *mumble mumble* partisan decisions *mumble mumble* unbalanced court *mumble mumble* haaaaaaate.

I was very happy, then, to read this article about Ruth Bader Ginsburg. “She is accusing the other side of making political claims, not legal claims.” Damn straight!

I am so pleased that she's making a fuss about it. The partial-birth abortion decision pissed me off mightily ("Precedent? What? Sorry, I must have been in the bathroom when we discussed that in law school."), and I quite enjoyed the scathing dissent. Sure, it's not a Scalia dissent, but the ability to produce that kind of vituperative castigation does not emerge overnight. I have high hopes.

I have very much missed Sandra Day O'Connor's voice on the court, but I am much heartened by this indication of Ginsburg's transformation. Supreme Court steel cage deathmatch? Oh, I hope so.

On a side note, I found the last paragraph of this article regarding the Pay Disparity decision extremely interesting:

In her opinion, Justice Ginsburg invited Congress to overturn the decision, as it did 15 years ago with a series of Supreme Court rulings on civil rights. “Once again, the ball is in Congress’s court,” she said. Within hours, Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton of New York, who is seeking the Democratic nomination, announced her intention to submit such a bill.

So PoMo

Occasionally I get emails from restaurants around town. The restaurants have my email for various reasons, mostly because I told them to email me a confirmation rather than calling me. Inevitably I get put on their news lists, which I generally don't mind, as it reminds me "oh, I haven't been there in a while, and look, a wine tasting..."

I think, however, I may have to unsubscribe from at least one restaurant thanks to following phrase:

A Wine Dinner Event This Monday - June 4th - 7:00 post modern time

No no no no no— it buuuuuuurns.

You shouldn't spring that sort of thing on a girl first thing in the morning; it's just not cricket.

This Is Always Happening To Me

Okay, have you seen Stripes? If you haven't, stop reading this post and go rent it immediately, as no education is complete without watching what is decidedly one of my top three movies of all time.

Assuming you have seen that movie, do you remember that scene at the end? Where Bill Murray, wearing his military uniform with martini glass in hand, staggers out of the jet to thunderous applause by the crowd? He says something along the lines of, "Oh, guys, you shouldn't have, you really shouldn't have. This is ridiculous— okay, everyone's coming back to my place for drinks."

That is exactly what I'm like after a few drinks on an empty stomach.

Earlier this evening I hopped over to a neighboring apartment to return the keys to the roof to my board president. We started talking, her partner offered me a drink, and somehow I found myself still hanging out on her porch drinking an hour and a half later. So obviously I invited them over for cocktails this weekend.

Then I stumbled home to run into my upstairs neighbor, who had been trying to get in touch with me to offer me her extra porch furniture, as she had noticed I didn't have any yet. So sweet! Obviously I invited her and her partner to cocktails as well.

And now I have a full-fledged party going on Sunday evening. ...Oops.

Well. There are worse things. Hurrah for wonderful neighbors. Now what should I serve? Obviously the full bar will be available, but nibbles must be considered carefully. Olives, maybe something a little more substantial? Maybe...something wrapped in bacon? Hmm...

In further irrelevant news, I painted my toenails a really slutty red and liked them so much that I painted my fingernails the same color. I'm pretty sure my nails now scream "SLUT!," which means it's time to bust out the over-sexed red polka-dot skirt. Wahoo.

One! More! List!

Sanity: a mere memory. I am tearing my hair out today due to the following:

1. Firefox keeps crashing.
2. My grandmother died this morning.
3. I am out of cheese.

Sadly, I'm rating all of these things at pretty much the same par for frustration and misery. ARGH.

Real updates are for people with cheese.

Awkward Silence

I have no words for the bizarre dreams I had last night. Seriously, they were just... I really, really am beginning to be disturbed. Let's go with a list:

1. Road trip with the members of N*Sync. What? Wait, what?
2. One-night stand with that guy who was married to Jessica Simpson. Turns out he's a foot fetishist and a bad kisser and lives with two other inquisitive roommates.
3. Horrible farm equipment accident that involved penis amputation. There was a lot of blood. Oh my god.
4. An endless supply of dirty laundry. (Which one of these is not like the other one?)

So, yeah, I slept poorly.

In other news, I'm stuck at home ALL DAY so I can supervise the furnace/AC replacement. The goal: actually work on the old novel somewhere along the way.

Tragedy; or, Not My Fault

I had some fabulous potential topics to blog about yesterday. Really, they were quite brilliant, and I was quite excited to share my brilliance with the interweb, so you can imagine my disappointment on discovering that my internet connection was down like a cheap whore. Alas! The interweb was to remain unenlightened! Tragedy!

I'd post yesterday's strokes of brilliance in their entirety, but I think the magic is lost. Instead, you get a one-line summary of each of the three posts that I might have made yesterday.

1. Ghetto resume, e.g. That's Just How I Roll (Experience), All Up In My Grillz (Education)
2. An in-depth analysis of the kind of friendship that results in the compliment "If I had to have anyone's pee in my sink, it would be yours."
3. The percentage of women in the average Brown line car with no/severely-reduced pubic hair as proportional to the car's proximity to Lincoln Park.

I know, you're just devastated that none of these will ever go beyond a one-line summary. I think you know who to blame; remember, Comcast = $5 whore.

Too Exhausted For Narcissism

I'm so tired I can't even pull any ridiculous, navel-gazing bullshit out of my ass to cover today's "yeah, yeah, I'm going to post every day again" obligation. So have a funny picture instead.


Did you laugh? I totally did.

And now I kind of want to hear that song. Curse you, iPod! How is it possible that you do not contain the wonder that is Gin and Juice? A crime against good taste, surely.

Interesting observation: when you're in the mood to listen to Gin and Juice, there is no musical substitute. Gin and Juice is, as Stephen Fry might say, a unique child born of a unique mother.

Indeed.