In My Defense

Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved. The warmth, the security and peace of mind, the utter comfort from the touch of others, knits the sleep so that it takes the body and soul completely in its healing.

- D.H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers

Girls

Some drab myspace stalking has resulted in the discovery of certain things:

1. Most girls use this as a giant slutfest. [Not that there is anything wrong with that. Hurrah sexual freedom.] But honestly, how many thongtastic profile photos are really necessary? And if you do post such a display, please do not ask to be my friend merely to clog the internet with "bulletins" about free ringtones, concert tickets, or subway sandwiches. I am not interested.

2. Teenage girls' fantasies have not changed. Found this comment on a teen idol site:

I just wanted to let you know...Your music gives me a reason to wake up everday. <3>

Thank you for giving me these amazing privileges to be content/happy every day. I will most definitely remember you ten years from now and remember that you and your music kept me from nervous breakdowns when I was close to them, and that you and your music give me reason to have that extra spring in my step.Thank you.

<3

~*Ashleigh*~

Ummm... right. Ashleigh, honey, you are rapidly approaching a rather pathetic territory of teen idolatry that includes all of the TRL audience. Don't be that girl, Ashleigh. Pop music is not the answer to the problems you encounter between "school and drama." I should know: I had a New Kids on the Block trapper keeper. Age: 7. First concert. Hell, first cd. Mmmhmmm, you know it.

Testosterone!

LOS ANGELES, California (AP) -- George Clooney is the No. 1 man's man, according to a list compiled by AskMen.com.

The Oscar winner tops the Web site's list of what it calls the 49 best representatives of the male gender. Rap mogul Jay-Z, adventurer-entrepreneur Richard Branson, cyclist Lance Armstrong and designer Tom Ford make up the rest of the top five, in order.

The list was culled from nominations submitted by readers of the online magazine, who were asked to name the top "ambassadors of male-kind." Voters were asked to look for traits such as integrity, charisma and intelligence.

The list will be posted Tuesday.

Bill Clinton ranked 10th and Tiger Woods 13th. Travel-show host Anthony Bourdain was 19th on the list.

"I shall be sure to spend the week shooting things, barbecuing, drinking manly drinks to excess and high-fiving loudly while watching organized athletics," Bourdain said.

Rocker Bono was 27th, Apple co-founder Steve Jobs was 29th and director Martin Scorsese was 46th. "Entourage" star Jeremy Piven ranked 49th.

Passion

What was the use of conquering the world if they could not drink and murder and love as the spirit moved them?

Bertrand Russell

Baby It's Cold Outside

Sometimes (forgive me for wandering into cliche territory) time really does pass you by... how have 3 days passed so quickly, so many events and circumstances filling the weekend as the leaves fall...

It's cold in Indiana. Our glorious autumn has vanished in favor of the brittle climate typical of year's end. Snow tomorrow, it seems.

I have opened every day this weekend - either 7 or 8 am - and been wickedly surprised with my own cheerfulness. And utter lack of sleep. Too many friends in town unexpectedly to possibly consider an early night's rest as an option. (Bed or beer, that is the question). God, it was fantastic. The familiarity of old friends is such a warm blanket, something cozy and comforting, something real. I miss us.

Rather terrified of the next two days. Overwhelmed.

The List:

1. Laundry (all of my clothes smell like bar - it's repulsive)
2. Philosophy midterm (any insight on the subject of Aristotle vs. Hindu v. much appreciated)
3. Class (have to go, obviously)
4. End of month bills due (responsibility bites the big one)
5. Almost out of soy milk (no!)

Anyway, waxing nostalgic on old friends... and Bloomington. We all are, it seems. Was discussing Cafe Django tonight. Mmmmmmm...

Kentucky Waterfalls and other Indiana landmarks

Saturday, it was decided, was an opportunity to break out of pattern and "try something new." Translation: same friends, different bar. We're crazy like that.

Obviously endured insanity at work the entire weekend - is it Christmas already? Why the fuck is everyone shopping? And no, we do not have that goddamn sweater in a medium. Go away.

So on a whim we chose this fantastic downtown dive noted for its blues and beer scene. Amazing how one can transform instantly into another dimension simply by coughing up a measly $5 cover and filing into a bar. Yes, there were beer posters and reggae albums and John Belushi/Dan Ackroyd memorabilia. Yes, there were multicolored strands of twinkle lights... everywhere. Yes, we were outnumbered tenfold by middle aged Hoosiers.

So remember how awkward wedding receptions always are at first? Especially family weddings (before everyone gets good and smashed, that is)... You're there, stuffed into some "appropriate" dress/gown/tux/suit/tie and uncomfortable shoes, bitching about being hungry, glaring at the wedding party, flirting with the servers to see if you can get alcohol earlier than everyone else, and praying to God your relatives don't ask you to dance right away. And then people do start to dance. Get down. Boogie. Only it's your mom and the Village People are playing or Uncle Harold is doing the twist despite his arthritis or (and this is my favorite) the unfortunate DJ has decided to "liven things up" with modern hip-hop and the bewildered baby boomers are sullenly taking their seats and praying for more 70's rock or hell, even some goobery love ballad (when they will of course grab their spouse and shuffle around in that stoically fond, asexual "married 35 years" way).

Anyway, combine all of those awkward sights and feelings for a taste of Saturday night's entertainment. There were at least two live bands - the kind where the musicians wear spats and cowboy hats and handlebar mustaches and Wrangler jeans - and of course everybody was getting busy on the dance floor. Oh my god. People over the age of 45 (with the exception of those agelessly glamourous/nimble people like Cher or Madonna) should not... NOT... be allowed to bump and grind. It was like a traffic accident that you couldn't tear your eyes away from... Must. Look. Away. Indiscriminately awkward.

So this is my best introduction to a) America and b) Indiana for my roommate. And that morning during a grand outing to the grocery store, we were confronted with a 50-something woman in a full-body camo jumpsuit plundering the produce section and gabbing about being late for her manicure appointment. Can't a girl catch a break?

Reconnected

Sitting on floor of my lower level. In a corner. Typing and simultaneously glaring at CNN. Yes, friends, once again I not only have the internet but also america's favorite pasttime (baseball? oh no, dear.) TELEVISION. liberating. My boyfriends are back: Anderson Cooper, Larry King, Jon Stewart, the "Can you hear me now" guy. (ok, not him.)

Fantastic.

Feeling v. refreshed. Brief trip home last evening to see everyone. Good to be back, strangely... Zadie Smith captured it perfectly, but of course I've forgotten her words, at any rate noting how adolescence grants one such passionate desire to flee, to seek out those greener pastures and escape the claustrophobia of home (for a Brit, she seems v. insightful about thoughts of a Midwestern misfit). And yet... things soften over the years and nostalgia creeps in with those rose-colored glasses. 'Tis too true, Ms. Smith.

Dragged an unsuspecting Matt with me, poor man. Less than one week in this country and he is subjected to my entire family. Handled it well.