June 29, 2008

And a Cherry on Top.

OMFG (still can't believe there were Gossip Girl ads with that), I. Love. My. New. Mac.

I love being able to, oh, BLOG, without my computer crashing mid-entry so that I have to go back and remember, what was the turn of phrase I used to describe my deep and abiding love of prosciutto/Gossip Girl/my new pilates class?

I also love being able to upload to my Flickr (hells, yeah, vacation photos!), and download songs without risking only half the album making it into iTunes.

While I am spreading the love, let me tell you what else has been rocking my world lately:

1. Peter Thomas Roth's Instant Mineral Sunscreen

I am so lazy in the morning that I often don't even want to deal with smearing sunscreen all over my face. This stuff is the best. A little poof, poof and I'm assured of not aging for another day (this is what I tell myself).

2. Hollywood Forever, brought to you by SUMMER!!

I recreated my last picnic there, only this time it was prosciutto-melon-camembert sandwiches, and lox with lime-cilantro butter sandwiches, AND I tried my first paninis, a basic tomato, mozzerella, and basil. I made the curried potato salad again, skipped regular salad for time, and made adult ho-hos, holy crap, awesome.

The movie was The Man Who Knew Too Much, one of the few Hitchcocks I hadn't seen, and the picture above is of the glow-in-the-dark snap necklaces of old, drunken peeps sitting behind us set against the starless, palm-tree-lined sky of Los Angeles.

3. (Slowly but surely growing on me, rather) The thought of having a roommate.

I have not had a roommate aside from someone I thought would be my mate for life since 2001. But I would like to save for a home, pay off my loans more quickly than I am currently progressing, and I'm real scared, but I'm going to give it a shot. Luckily, I am giving it a shot with one of my best friends in the world, Neeta. Sure, she is deathly allergic to cats, but I have the Dyson and the keen desire not to be responsible for her demise.

I have had a lot of internal angst, A LOT, trying to figure out whether to do this. There are logistics to settle, I'll no longer have a separate room for the cats and their box o' stank, where will the stuff that I've currently been fitting into two walk-in closets fit, can we cram our joint supply of frozen food into my freezer, etc.? There are also the personal questions, what am I doing getting a roommate now, at 31? I question a lot whether I'm taking a step back. But I have to remind myself that I'm taking a step forward, to home ownership, and won't the cats and I enjoy having someone to watch Gossip Girl with?

I think we will.

4. Maraschino cherries.

When I bought the marshmallow cream for the ho-hos yesterday, it was right next to some maraschino cherries. I've never had them at home, but I love them and will steal one from your drink if you're not looking, watch out. I never even considered that I could have them at home, like, to EAT, on a regular basis.

But I do now!

5. Teenage love... now with with vampires!

OMgoodness. A coworker recommended Stephanie Meyer's books to me, and while they are no Graham Greene, they'll do in a pinch -- cool kids' lunch table, vampires, curfews, girls' choice dances, werewolves. I was a HUGE Christopher Pike fan when I was in junior high, and this is like that, only better even. It takes me back, WAY BACK, to the days when you could just feel. so. much! When your heart hurt just at how MUCH you felt. Now my heart just hurts if someone heartlessly dumps me the morning after I've spent $150 getting my hair done to attend his stupid work event. Back then, my heart could hurt just out of feeling so much.

If reverting back to my roommate days could also bring that back?

Oh, the maraschino cherry on top.

Posted by jen at 10:24 PM | Comments (8)

June 24, 2008

Would Be a Lot Easier to Blog...

If my computer didn't overheat every five minutes.

Last weekend I was out of town, but this weekend...

MacBook here I come! Scared I won't know how to turn it on or navigate my way around, but more scared of Vista!

Posted by jen at 10:38 PM | Comments (4)

January 30, 2008

Sabrina Beachamp and the Sorcerer's Soap

Last night I wiped out* HARD running, the first time I have really done that, ever. And today, sitting on my bum all day, half cocked sideways to avoid my right hip? Eek.

So tonight, I treated myself to a bath, which, hell, I do every other morning and have written about before. BUT, this time I added, not only bubbles, but also a glass of wine (red, which I'm not so sure about with the heat of the bath, next time I will try champagne (or, more likely, it's cheaper, trashier cousin, cava)), a tiny little piece of bitter dark chocolate (in this cooking class I took the instructor raved about how one tiny piece of bitter dark was as satisfying as a half-pound of milk; verdict = um, no.), and Harry Potter.

I have resisted Harry Potter, for, lo, these many years since he took hold of readers everywhere. I developed my resistance to NY Times bestsellers when I used to review them for a now-defunct women's website and HOLY COW, the stuff that passed for readable? "She's Come Undone," do not get me started (no offense if you liked it, plenty of people decry Joan Didion, one of my favorites). Oh, the swamps of ill-begotten metaphors and teenage logic I had to trudge through.

See, I am completely thrilled to read crap that is sold as crap (Sidney Sheldon and Dominick Dunne, I heart thee), but I hate reading crap that is sold as Literary when it is actually Crap. You know?

In any case, I have finally succumbed to my family's urging and taken up Harry. At first I was nonplussed, yeah, this is fun and I read the first one in about 45 minutes, but what is the Big Deal? BUT, now I am heading into book 3, and I have to say, I am hooked. So much so that my fingers and toes got extra prune-y in my bath, and I'll probably finish up the book in bed tonight.

And that, for someone who reads contracts and regulations all day and comes home with tired eyes, is MAGIC.

*This reminds me that my first two 45s ever? "Wipeout" by the Fat Boys, and Boy Meets Girl, "Waiting for a Star to Fall." Oh, the awesomeness.**

**Now THAT reminds me that my first musical purchases were 45s. I AM OLD.***

***Which reminds me that I cannot believe NKOTB is staging a come-back. Has anyone heard their new song? Any good?

Posted by jen at 10:43 PM | Comments (9)

December 09, 2007

Quick Tip on How To Be Awesome

Some people think that to introduce you yourself to your new neighbors, you should show up with cookies or wine or whatnot.

Losers.

Much better, I say, to lock yourself out on your balcony. In your new long johns. With bunnies on them.

And have to shout out, "Hello? Hello? Can you help me? I am locked on my balcony?"

And have your neighbors call the locksmith for you.

Much, much better.

Just a quick tip from me to you.

Posted by jen at 09:22 PM | Comments (11)

November 29, 2007

Mama's Got a Brand New Home

ACK!!!

I haven't been this excited in so long. I cannot believe I ever doubted my decision to get my new apartment.

The ultimate luxury:

The living room!

More living room!

One of TWO walk-in closets!

And this is just with my crappy camera phone! At night!

I cannot wait to move in next weekend. CAN. NOT. WAIT.

Also, p.s. one of the other great things I realized about hitting the 5-minute/1-month mark of post-breakup is that FINALLY, I can stop listening to my breakup anthem songs, Rilo Kiley's "Silver Lining" and "Breakin' Up." Because, LET ME TELL YOU, there is a point at 987 plays at which a song becomes less of an anthem and more of a death march.

I needed some change.

New music, new home, woohoo!

Posted by jen at 09:34 PM | Comments (15)

November 27, 2007

Five-Minute Mark

I've written a couple grumpy entries and then deleted them the morning after.

I had been figuring to myself, well, it's OK to be grumpy for a while after you've been dumped, it's natural, right?

But tonight, on the treadmill (small miracle), I realized, I am a MONTH into dumpee status. This has got to stop!

And you know, I am a believer in the Sex in the City half-time rule -- you remember? Basically, it takes you half the length of your relationship to get over a breakup?

Looking over my previous relationships, I have to say this rings true.

Also, math makes everything better.

Relationship = 1 year-ish
Recovery time = 6 months-ish

So I figure I am at the 5-minute mark of a 30-minute treadmill run. You know that point where you're like, crap?! I am only 1/6 of the way through? Can I stop yet?

But then, you know? Five minutes later, you're at the 10-minute mark and holy crap, you're a third of the way through! So I figure by December 21st, I'm GOLDEN. I'm warmed up, I'm starting to sweat, I've worked off some pecan brittle, and Devtochka is telling me I'm the Queen of the Surface Streets, and hello? I've got a Duraflame in my new FIREPLACE in my new apartment and I'm in the home stretch.

That's what I'm hoping for, in any case.

In the interim, here are the photos from my Fun! Old-Fashioned Family Thanksgiving in Ann Arbor, home to my brother and his wonderful wife, Jen.

We toured the Google facilities and saw the infamous Google snacks:

We visited the hallowed Zingermans (holy crap, highly recommend their food baskets for Christmas gifts), where babies are half off.

And I saw Laurie's book in the first Borders EVER!

What I loved the most is that a Borders worker helped me find the Crafts & Collectibles section, and when I sheepishly admitted that I was only there to take a picture of my best friend's book, he was like, "Oh, would you like me to be in the picture reading it?"

Midwesterners are kind. And they wear fanny packs. OK, not all of them.

Also, for everyone who asked about the ridiculously easy pecan brittle recipe:

Nut Brittle

- Unsalted butter, softened, for baking sheet
- 1 1/2 cups butter
- 1/2 cup light corn syrup
- Pinch of salt
- 2 1/2 cups nuts, such as dry-roasted peanuts, cashews, almonds, hazelnuts or pecans, or toasted pumpkin seeds
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- Vegetable oil, for spatula

1. Brush a 9-by-13-inch rimmed baking sheet with butter, and oil an offset spatula*; set aside. Put sugar, corn syrup, and salt in a medium saucepan with 1/4 cup cold water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Wash down the sides of the pan with a wet pastry brush to prevent crystals from forming. Cook, swirling the pan occasionally, until the mixture registers 238 degrees on a candy thermometer (soft-ball stage). Stir in nuts, and continue to cook, stirring often so that the nuts do not burn, until the mixture is medium amber in color.

2. Carefully stir in vanilla and baking soda (the mixture will foam up)***.

3. Pour onto prepared baking sheet, and using oiled offset spatula, quickly spread into a 1/2-inch-thick layer**. Let cool completely.

4. Break brittle into pieces if desired. Store in an airtight container at room temperature up to one month.

It doesn't take five minutes, but it's insanely easy.

* What the heck is that? I used one with a slanted edge and hoped for the best, worked fine.

** Yeah, I just spread it out and figured why would a recipe create more than the depth is calls for? Turned out fine!

*** Totally does, SCIENCE!!

Posted by jen at 10:10 PM | Comments (5)

November 20, 2007

There Is a Disturbance in the Force, OR Happy Thanksgiving!

DUDE. Something is wrong here.

I told you I was planning to move. What I didn't tell you (because I didn't want to jinx it, knock on wood, throw some salt over my shoulder) is that I actually found a new apartment on Saturday morning. THE VERY FIRST ONE I SAW. WHICH I PAID A DEPOSIT ON TODAY AND WILL MOVE INTO IN LESS THAN TWO WEEKS.

I'm sorry for the abundance of all caps, but MAN, I have mentioned my loathing for finding a new apartment before, almost a year ago. Literally? When I looked for this crappy apartment? I saw at least 25 apartments in two weeks WHILE HOLDING DOWN AN 8-6 JOB before I realized I'd never find anything better.

This time? Before I went? I told myself (I engage in a lot of talking-tos with myself, I'm completely sane and awesome that way): "Jen, you have all the time in the world, you will go see this ONE (NOT TWELVE) apartment because it is the only one that looks exactly like what you want, and, if it doesn't work out? You will wait until next weekend and then you can see ONE OTHER (NOT TWELVE) apartment that looks exactly like what you want." And you know what?

Oddly enough, this one fulfills every requirement I had back in January, two stories for my fat cats, hardwood floors, functioning dishwasher, direct sunlight, and you know what else? Washer-dryer, a FIREPLACE, an unobstructed view of the Hollywood sign and the Griffith Park Observatory -- and it's in walking distance of a Trader Joe's, my favorite wine shop, and has TWO (!) PARKING SPACES. And NO HOMELESS PEOPLE (love you homeless people, just don't love your piss in my staircase at 7:00 a.m.).

And sure, it has the tiniest oven I have ever seen and there is glass block on the staircase, but you know what? I know can throw a stove-top-created dinner party, and the 80s are long enough ago I can ironically tip my hat to their architecture, right? AND I WILL NEVER FIND ANYTHING BETTER, even if I saw 25 other apartments.

So anyway, I can't believe what effect even FAKING a totally zen attitude has had on my luck!

Or really, I can't believe how easy it is to behave like a sane person.

So here I am, realizing being a sane person rocks. And so tonight, even though I really wanted to procrastinate and watch DVR'd episodes of goodness-knows-what and wake up at 5 a.m. to pack for Thanksgiving and probably arrive at my brother and his wife's house empty-handed and sans toothpaste, instead I actually made some pecan brittle for my family:

And now I'm off to pack.

Like a sane person. Totally zen. Disturbing The Force.

Happy Thanksgiving!

p.s. Thanks for all your congratulations! You make me so happy! After Thanksgiving I will spread the love to your lovely blogs!

p.p.s. Normally I do not mind when people on TV get older, that happens and whatnot, but does anyone else find the fact that the Verizon Wireless network guy ("Can you hear me now?") is aging SCARY? He is not OLD or anything, but for some reason I find this even more disturbing than the fact that I can no longer tolerate "The Real World." Perhaps he is our Maytag repair man?

Posted by jen at 08:42 PM | Comments (12)

October 24, 2007

There's a Reason It's Called EnGRAVing

"I think we need to talk."

These are never words you want to hear if you are in a relationship. And if you are me, sitting on The Boy's couch in San Francisco the morning after you've gone to his work party as his girlfriend, these are not words you expected to hear. Ever.

My expectations, however, are now irrelevant.

The point is that after you hear something like that the next thing you know your sister is shoving all of your crap from his bathroom into a plastic bag and you're zipping up your carry-on, hoping you've got everything because he's standing there and looking around the room requires that you look at him when you're just (not consciously, you only realize this later) not ready to look at him yet.

And then you're there in San Francisco for two more days, attending securities law training, doing your best to pay attention to the intricacies of rule 10(b)-5 violations and here is the great, super impressive life lesson you/me learn from all this.

Never, ever, get anything engraved for someone. Or, more specifically, a boyfriend.

The first time I got something engraved for a boyfriend was a few years ago. I think I've already told this story, but I don't care. I had been dating this guy for about six months, and when Valentine's Day rolled around, I thought, hey, he's mentioned he's always wanted a flask. I'll get one engraved for him. Dumbass (me). Lo and behold, I did not receive a V-Day present or even a V-Day date, so there I was stuck with this stupid, unreturnable flask and the knowledge that this relationship was headed to the grave.

The second time was just September 27, 2007, when I was blithely, at The Boy's request, getting a glass-bottom tankard engraved with his initials for his birthday. So here I am, stuck with this stupid, unreturnable tankard, and the knowledge that this relationship is in the grave.

So my advice for the still-single among you: never, ever, EVER, get anything engraved.

And yes, I know, relationships don't die because you were optimistic enough to get something engraved, to look toward something lasting. But for right now, I prefer to locate the reason there. It's easier than trying to figure out how I could be so blindsided, broadsided, how I could be so deaf to our relationship's death rattle.

p.s. In hindsight, the pun in the title doesn't quite vanquish the taint of bitterness from this post, eh? Oops!

Posted by jen at 08:26 PM | Comments (30)

October 15, 2007

It's Like I Just Suddenly Switched to Vodka

This weekend was one where I had big plans, big dreams for what I would do, including getting a haircut, a mani-pedi, cleaning off my patio, going to the Rose Bowl flea market and practicing my birthday dinner for The Boy.

Of course, I managed only to accomplish one of the aforementioned tasks, the haircut, and that's only because I had an appointment and couldn't exactly not show.

I don't know what my problem is, but all I wanted to do was nap. Maybe it's the change in seasons, maybe it's adjusting to a new work schedule and more alone time than I know what to do with, who knows.

Luckily, though, my sister, aware of my state of misanthropy, emailed me Sunday night to tell me she was watching "Elf," suggesting I should do the same.

Oh. My. Goodness. Not now, arctic puffin!

After that film, I was in an amazing mood, finding the recipes for my practice dinner, knitting a Christmas present scarf. I am truly embarrassed at how much better watching Will Ferrell prance around in tights for 93 minutes made me feel.

But you know, who cares? So I am on a one Christmas-related film a night plan for the next week or so until I get myself over the hump. Luckily for me, there are a ton of not-actually-Christmas movies that are Christmas-y for me, e.g., When Harry Met Sally, Serendipity, and the movie for tonight:

Desk Set.

Oddly enough, it's written by Phoebe and Harry Ephron, I believe the parents of Nora, who wrote When Harry Met Sally. Anyway, it's a hilarious old romantic comedy in which (gasp!) a computer (gasp!) is installed in the reference department of one of the big three TV networks. It is AWESOME, in that it is still funny today, and also, hello! the computer is bigger than my apartment and makes total R2D2 noises. Ah, The Future as imagined from 1957 -- in technicolor, wee!

Anyway, one of my favorite lines from the film is when Spencer Tracy, playing the "efficiency expert" (which is I guess what IT guys were called in those days but for me only recalls reading Cheaper by the Dozen, like, 900 times as a child), is measuring the reference department for where his big, hulking "electronic brain" is going to go. And the ladies of the reference department don't know why he's there quite yet, with the greenest speculating that he's there to redecorate.

One says, "Does he look like an interior decorator to you?"

Another replies, "No. He looks like a man who just suddenly switched to vodka."

Wee! I love you, you broad-sweeping 1950s humor. Especially when you involve a romantic Christmas scene in which someone's shoes end up getting burned in the oven.

You make me so happy. It's almost like I just suddenly switched to vodka. Or one of the four main elf food groups, syrup.

Posted by jen at 10:20 PM | Comments (14)

October 07, 2007

Blank Screen of Death, I Banish You.

Did you know it is difficult to blog when you have no internet access at home (HATE YOU, ISP)? No? Well, it is.

I've thought a lot recently about quitting this blog. Most of the time I can't figure out what to say, or I write an entry and delete as irrelevant or too personal. And I never get up the nerve to comment on others. But after two weeks of not even being able to blog or read others? I am re-committed. Besides, where else but on the interweb would I learn about The Working Pool but from reading Jonniker? Or about how to make your own Kate Spade classic book covers but from Not Martha? Or meet someone like Carolyn, who will a) come out and meet me for drinks that I really shouldn't be having considering the open bar at my work orientation and b) not think I am a raving lunatic the next day?

Above, the aforementioned Kate Spade bookcovers. Perfect for when you are in Argentina and, um, do not want people to see that you are reading a book called, "Imagining Argentina" (excellent, btw).

So, I'm back, recommitted, and wondering, seriously, WHY are there no black belts with gold buckles? Anywhere? I got those cute new shoes and it feels wrong to have different colored hardware, but I have yet to find a non-silver-buckled belt that isn't also fancified beyond all hope of work appropriateness.

And also, I would like to repay the interweb's favor with some news of what I'm enjoying these days:

1. Boots No. 7 Quick Thinking Wipes. I am HORRIBLE about removing my makeup at night. By horrible I mean: never do. Ever. However, now that I can wash my face and remove it at the same time? Oh, heaven.

2. Whole Foods organic scone mix. It is so awesomely easy to make, and then all I do is throw some fennel seeds on top when I've got the dough formed into scones, and voila! Delicious, 200-calorie snacks for the morning, yummy.

3. OK, this isn't a complete recommendation because I have developed a love-hate relationship with Tim Gunn's Guide to Style. On the one hand, I love it. I am fully against the trend of people wearing pajamas to the grocery store. On the other hand, isn't it HARD to have the confidence/wherewithal to throw on a chic sundress and heels as your "sweatsuit alternative" to go pick up some cat food and beer? I spent the past weekend divesting my closet of all of the bare necessities only to look at it now and think, my goodness, is there anything in here of which Tim would approve except my work clothing? It's very distressing. Have you seen the show? Is he crazy or no?

And with that, blank screen of death, I banish you!

Posted by jen at 11:59 PM | Comments (8)

September 09, 2007

True Colors

Hi! I'm back! What did I miss?

That's basically how I feel, like I missed a lot. Not missing like the missing of to-go coffee I experience abroad, but missing more like, I now feel so disconnected from everything I did before. I returned home to a new job, The Boy gone, and no internet, so all my familiar routines were missing.

But things are starting to feel more settled. The Boy came to visit this weekend, internet was restored, and week #2 of a new job is always less jarring than the first.

Anyway, I have tons of stories from our month in Argentina, and I'm sure I will bore you all to tears with them, but tonight I will just share one:

We had decided to take a driving tour of the Quebrada Humahuaca, to see some of the most beautiful colored rock formations in the world. Our tour group consisted of our tour guide, The Boy and I, and these two very nice 65+ Argentian women, with us 3 ladies cramped into the back of this truck.

It was the most amazing day -- we were miles above sea level, eating llama in the middle of nowhere on tables made of salt culled from the salt flats; The Boy and I each sat on a purloined street sign attached by flimsy rope to the back of the truck and sledded around the salt flats; we saw some of the most beautiful rock formations in the world; and we heard Fur Elise played on rocks.

Toward the end, the rocks just got prettier and prettier and finally we arrived at Purmamarca, home to the Mountain of Seven Colors, which is, literally, a mountain of seven colors of the most amazing rock you've ever seen. It's just nutty!

Somewhere along the way, our guide had put in a Phil Collins CD, oddly enough the third time a driver had treated us to Phil (what is it about him that the Argentinians find so appealing? One more mystery of their culture I failed to solve in my month there). And right when we hit Purmamarca, the Phil Collins version of "True Colors" came on, and The Boy and I looked at one another. It was just too much. The Boy explained in Spanish to the guide and the two ladies about the eerie relevance of the song they were listening to, and translated the lyrics, and it was quiet for a moment. And then, as we kept driving slowly along, drinking in the color of the rocks, the two women and guide all began warbling along, in English, to Phil.

I couldn't help but join in. It was awesome.

Posted by jen at 10:02 PM | Comments (12)

July 31, 2007

Adios, por un mes!

Holy crap, it is already nearly a week past the bar, and I am in San Francisco in The Boy's new digs (sniff, sniff), writing ONE LAST ENTRY before I head to Brazil and Argentina for a MONTH!!

I'm still having nightmares about the bar, waking up in the middle of the night working out the differences between California and federal evidence rules and applying adverse possession rules to my parents' dilemma with their neighbors and their damn fence.

But you know what? WHO THE HELL CARES? I am heading South. Where caipirinhas, the beach, the Amazon, Argentinian wine country, all this awaits.

Thank you all so much for your support during the bar. I can't wait to show up a month from now and share all my adventures, and to hear all of yours! Who knows what will have occurred in the blogosphere by the time I get back?! MY GOD, if Nicole Ritchie managed to get pregnant, who the hell knows what might have occurred. Pigs could fly, I could get a tan, I could get real drunk on caipirinhas (ok, I would put this in the LIKELY category), and dammit, you could be joining Lance Bass on the moon! (p.s. Um, Is it wrong that thinking about this I am getting a little anxious thinking about what you all might be doing while I'm away, what I might be missing FOR AN ENTIRE MONTH, eek?)

Anyway, adios, por un mes! Muchos besos! And whatever the hell that is in Portuguese!

Posted by jen at 10:41 PM | Comments (8)

July 10, 2007

I Think My Brain Is Full.

Seven weeks of studying is too damn much. It's been hard to talk to anyone, let alone to blog. You can only tell your friends and family about how you got nailed by an essay about the destructability of contingent remainders doctrine so many times before they stop calling. You certainly can't subject strangers on the internet with it (whoopsie!). Even The Boy and I are struggling -- "Hey, can you believe #16?" "No." "Yeah, me neither." "..."

So. Instead of writing about what's going on in my life (NOTHING), I've got some questions for you:

1. Scrapbooking? Yea or nay? I watched on old Martha episode tonight with Keri Russell (unbelievably cute pregnant!), with scrapbooking as a theme. I actually had a scrapbook in college, before scrapbooking got crazy and complicated and EXPENSIVE and am considering whether to try again with our vacation photos, but don't want it to be too cheesy. Are there products that aren't too frou-frou? Or is this a doomed enterprise?

2. Somehow, at the age of 30, I have still not learned to shave my legs properly. There is ALWAYS a patch somewhere, usually somewhere prominent, that I have missed. What is wrong with me?

3. OK, this is actually about my life. I bought a new bag for vacation, because my other bag, the Hayden-Harnett Ibiza Convertible Flight Tote in black, which, I LOVE!!, seems inappropriate because it has a bunch of gold things on it. And I kind of think that when hanging out in the Amazon, it's a little weird if one is carrying a bag ornamented by gold, right? So I got this one in marine. Cute, no? That is my question: cute, no?

4. Is it appropriate to go down to get your mail in your pajamas? Normally I can summon the energy to throw on a bra and some jeans (actually, I can only study when I have a bra on, weird), but sometimes I have a 2-minute debate with myself over whether it's necessary. Thoughts?

5. Do you say "shut to?" Or just "to" in reference to doors? I told The Boy the other day to leave the door "to" and he looked at me like I was crazy. Is this just a southern thing (I am not southern exactly, but my parent are, y'all)?

6. Is not John Legend so freaking FINE? I have been listening to his album "Once Again" as my running album (I run REAL SLOW during some of the songs) and if I could just put him in my pocket and take him home...

7. Seven was going to be the end of it, being July, seven weeks into studying and all, but I can't come up with #7. Perhaps you have some questions for me? We can trade! Also, it will give me something to write about next time, so I would be much obliged.

Posted by jen at 10:03 PM | Comments (17)

June 28, 2007

There Must Be a Dead Body Somewhere

No, I just attempted some Sprinkles red velvet cupcakes this evening, the mix a birthday present (January, that's how much I love baking) from my friend Tiffany. We'll see how they turn out. I still have an aftertaste from the batter (Again, I love baking. Psych. Yes, I just used "psych." I may use "not" next, a term only marginally less dated. Just watch me.).

Anyway, I wanted to make some cupcakes for my fellow bar studying sufferers. Tomorrow is our last in-class day of ingesting new, substantive law, so I figured why not let them ingest some new, delicious cupcakes? Or why not poison them? Either way, works for me. NOT.

Also, I may be going a little crazy. This is what happens when you spend most of every single day for the last 6 weeks with your pert (or piggy-like, you say tomAHto, I say tomAYto) little nose tucked into the Conviser Mini-Review of G-dforesaken Law. It's like kismet.

In any case, I wanted to thank you for all your shoe recommendations. Dude, there are a lot of Keens wearers out there! I ended up going with these:

Studiously non-Teva like, and very much like many of the Keens you all recommended, no?

I figure they will be great in the Amazon, so if I'm thrown off the boat, I can still swim safely to shore in my 280g shoes. Sure, I will have already contracted dengue hemorrhagic fever, but whatevs.

Actually, despite my depression about my failed cupcakes and inability to master priorities in foreclosure, I am REALLY excited about my vacation! Last night I booked our hotel in Rio, and this weekend I plan to finish making the rest of the month's bookings.

And I have a question for you: the end of our trip will be in Buenos Aires, and it will be The Boy and my one year anniversary. Have you ever been to B.A.? If so, do you have any recommendations for restaurants for our anniversary dinner? I am really hoping to knock his socks off. Not that he will be wearing any! It is VACATION, man, no socks required! Psych. Over my dead body. We've got to go somewhere nice and rock this one-year milestone. Recommendations?

Posted by jen at 11:57 PM | Comments (12)

April 27, 2007

Listen Up!

I am a horrible eavesdropper. I like to blame this on being, "curious about the world," rather than, "unable to mind my own business." That seems like a legitimate distinction right? I was an anthro major after all -- I just haven't been able to shake my ethnographer's yoke, right?

Anyway, I saw this ad this evening for the Listen Up V3, your personal amplifier. And the mind reeled. I mean, wasn't this your dream in junior high, to know exactly what the evil girls across the lunchroom were saying about you? (probably nothing. you weren't even a blip on their sparkly-lipped radar, sadly.) And omniscence is yours for the bargain price of $14.99!

Yeah. I didn't buy it. The temptation would be too great. Some powers are best left unhad.

In other news, two of the spam comments I deleted this evening were "13 year-old penis length" and "injured penis vein." I am just happy that these subjects are completely foreign to me. Much like Theories of International Law, about which I will be writing a 30-page paper starting on Monday.

Posted by jen at 01:32 AM | Comments (7)

April 10, 2007

Lights at the End...

31 days til graduation, and I'm starting to see some lights:

1. An oven light.

Slowly but surely, my complex is removing all my reasons for moving, providing first a new dishwasher, then giving me the green light on painting, and now a new oven. WITH AN OVEN LIGHT. I am loving it so hard.

Of course, in order to procure said oven, my original one had to die. 2.5 hours into the 5 hours of cooking required for the $30 sweet-and-sour brisket I was making for My First Passover. Oy.

2. Campfire light.

The Boy and I headed to Big Sur for some lovely camping after I finished seminar paper #1. We couldn't find any paper for our fire, but my 1995 U.S. atlas worked like gangbusters! Adios, Tennessee through Canada and Mexico!

3. A fire under my feet.

Our Rand-McNally fueled pyre set my shoe on fire. For real! I tried like hell to capture the smoldering on film, but Miller Lite is a powerful tonic, my friends, and this is the best you'll get.

3. The light of love.

There is The Boy of course, and I think I made the official conversion to Lover of Cooking when I purchased my first expensive pot as a tax refund reward to self last week. I read Not Martha's review of Dutch Ovens, and when I couldn't find the Chefmate she mentioned, I splurged on the Mario Batali Dutch Oven in Pesto at Crate & Barrel. I tried to carry that monster the 2 miles home but wimped out when my pit stains became visible at about 1.75 and had The Boy come pick me up. In any case, it's just awesome to have a pot that has an even bottom surface so that I don't have to tilt the pan to ensure even browning.

Anyway, I have been cooking a ton over the last week for Passover -- bread-product-, soy- and corn-syrup-free cooking. And somehow, I only have one recipe to share that ROCKED my world, to my absolute surprise: Cauliflower-Leek Kugel. Cauliflower? Who knew?

Of course, there are still some dark clouds on the horizon: two more papers to write, oh, I don't know, THE BAR EXAM, and the fact that The Boy's job is in San Francisco and mine is here in LA, which Sucks Beyond Belief.*

But at least there are some lights along the way, right? Right?

Aw, fuck it, it sucks.

*Long-distance lovin', that's what we're planning on, in case you wondered.

p.s. AGAIN, I deleted your comments in deleting spam. I have to figure out a better system, but that comes after finals.

Posted by jen at 08:38 PM | Comments (7)

March 25, 2007

Lost Weekend

So, -R- double-dog dared her readers to post a picture of themselves at high school prom. Lucky you, here are two!

First, the close-up (I'm on left). I wore bangs for eighty bazillion years because I have a serious fivehead. I have now embraced my fivehead, so much so that occasionally I will attempt to transform a sweet little summer BBQ into a head-measuring contest.

Now, the whole shebang. Can you believe that is actually a Cynthia Rowley dress? I have NO IDEA how I managed to procure a CR dress in Redding -- in this pic we are at one of the nicest restaurants (at that point) in town, which is AT THE AIRPORT. And primarily decorated with SILK PLANTS. Also, I think our meal came out to $12 each. Sweet bejeebus.

Sadly, digging out these prom photos has been one of the most exciting things I've done this weekend. I've mainly been writing a paper (spousal signature requirements in community property states under the ECOA is so! exciting!). And cursing my dish disposal, which quit on me. And getting dish detergent in my eye and having to flush it out for 15 minutes. Do you know how LONG 15 minutes is when you have your face under the sink? A LONG FUCKING TIME, THAT'S HOW LONG.

At least one good thing did happen. Dumplings: Part Deux. Steamed Seafood Dumplings (pretty good, a little fishy), and Martha's pork dumplings (we steamed, not boiled -- SO GOOD).

In other news, I appear to have lost the will to shop (!). I kind of (really) hate my wardrobe right now and have gone shopping SIX TIMES recently and have been unable to purchase anything. Has this ever happened to you? I think I might be dead. Part of it is that I'm sick of buying all my clothes from Target and Forever 21 (hate you, student budget), but I'm not ready to fork out the required moolah for more. The other part is that I think I might be getting tired of conjuring up excitement about hot! new! trends in fashion. (that's it, I am dead). I am not mod, I am not a flapper. And I can't muster up the energy to try to be. Wouldn't it be sad if leggings were my last hurrah at trendiness? Ok, writing this has made me sad. Mainly because I see my future: What Not To Wear protagonist. Which, btw, is the only other thing I have done this weekend. Watch DVR'd WNTW when I can take the paper no longer.

How did this entry get so pathetic? I am so looking forward to later this week, when The Boy and I head off to Camping: Part Deux.

Posted by jen at 10:18 PM | Comments (6)

March 21, 2007

Just for You, My Little Dumplings: A Judgment Free Edition

Dude, I always knew I was one of those people who had difficulty rubbing my stomach and patting my head at the same time. I can't even watch TV while I'm doing dishes, even when it's a DVR'd episode of What About Brian, which takes approximately 1.38 brain cells to absorb. Still, one cantankerously grimy pan and I'm rewinding to find out what's going on with Deena's cute! trendy! new cupcake shop or Nicole's (gasp) judgmental mommy & me group. I swear to sushi, it is the YUPPIEST SHOW EVER.

Anyway, I discovered this evening in flamenco class that apparently one of my legs can't be doing something different than the other or I spontaneously combust in a flailing mass of extremities and poor rhythm. Sheesh. I am going to have to check out my moves next time I'm doing some, you know, normal dancing, to see if this is always the case. What if I've been disco-ing one leg at a time my whole life and I had no idea? The mind reels.

Nonetheless, I am totally loving flamenco now! There is something super freeing about being the one who sucks the most! The uber-suckiest! Then you just learn what you can, when you can, and if you're the ass who still can't figure out how to move your arms in the opposite direction of your feet (which, as the instructor kindly pointed out, IS WHAT YOU DO WHEN YOU'RE WALKING), who cares?! There is no judgment visited upon the truly awful. The instructor is just glad you're still forking out $12 every Wednesday night to look like a complete nincompoop! Yay for capitalism!

Speaking of non-judgment, can I tell you that I have had Just About Enough of people saying, "Oh, you're becoming a LI-YAR (snicker, snicker)," when I tell them I'm in law school? I do not begrudge my apartment maintenance man his cologne (Aspen? Old Spice?) choices, but it is OK for him to knock my vocational path?

In the spirit of judgement freeity and lovinglyness, though, I am going to let that go because, woohoo! Grumpy apartment man has fixed my sink, which means I can cook and make lots of dirty dishes, which means I can try my hand at DUMPLINGS a second time, yay!

Above are pics of the first attempt - steamed broccoli rabe dumplings (ok, broccolini, Ralph's sucks sometimes) and steamed shrimp dumplings. Both were yummy, and shrimp were UNBELIEVABLY easy!

Posted by jen at 09:28 PM | Comments (7)

February 27, 2007

Lucky Caller #1

Creative Commons photo credit to Gabriel Passarelli

Laurie made the mistake of calling me before 10 AM today, and I launched into a litany of things that were pissing me off, namely:

1. Fred discovered how to break into his food container.
2. I had to OH THE HORROR do an assignment outside of class.
3. I was awake.

So, um, sorry Laurie! Please do not be afraid to ever call me again.

It wasn't so bad when I was working -- I quickly found that it was not workplace-appropriate to hate the entire world and ESPECIALLY You Who Is Calling Me Prior To 11. Somehow, I shudder to think of it now, I even managed to give bi-weekly presentations on strategic goals and shit to SVPs at 8:30 in the morning. IN THE MORNING. AM. Ante Meridiem (I just looked that up for emphasis).

But now that I'm back in school, I've returned to my nocturnal ways. I'm lucky The Boy is also a sleeper, but even he can incur my morning wrath sometimes. One morning last semester, that poor man made the mistake of asking me to shower before him, the heathen, and I was so overwhelmed with irrational anger that I didn't speak to him the entire way to school. It took me 3/4 of Copyright class until I realized why I was mad and got really, really embarrassed.

Believe it or not, I'm a generational improvement over my father. He's a retired surgeon, so he was on call a lot. And I've heard from many an ER nurse that for any pre-9 AM call, they would hope against hope that my mother would answer, so that she could gently coax him out of sleep before they had to present him with the news that a trip out of bed and into the hospital was in order.

[Please note that this chart is made out of love, and not actually representative of real home life.]

Even to this day, I know any early morning call home is risky. Will I get pleased-to-hear-from-his-eldest Dad or what-sane-person-is-up-this-early Dad?

I wish I knew why, aside from parentage, I had so much difficulty in the morning, and I wish I didn't. Life would start so much earlier. And less grumpier. And THAT would be better for everyone.

Especially for lucky caller #1.

Posted by jen at 09:24 PM | Comments (7)

February 19, 2007

Fashion Tragedy

Two items have been haunting my to-do list for almost a year:
1. Resole all work shoes (about 12 pairs of heels, flats, slingbacks, peep-toed pumps, etc.).
2. Take crap to Goodwill.

In a fit of ambition, last week I put both the Goodwill bags and the bag of shoes to be repaired in my trunk.

Finally, Saturday, I made a pit stop at Goodwill, which I like supporting, and, yay tax write-off!, and. Ugh.

I don't know how (I was not the only person involved in the fateful drop-off), but somehow EVERY SINGLE PAIR of fancy-ish shoes I own is now being sold, at extremely reasonable prices, to Goodwill patrons across Southern California.

Including -- and this is the part I am most sad about -- a pair of super cute wedges from 1999 which have finally, JUST NOW become chic again.

Is it wrong that I cried a little when I realized what had happened? I'm trying to comfort myself that at least someone will profit from my 8 years of waiting for wedges to have a comeback. Just as long as they don't pair them with a REAL fashion tragedy that should never, EVER for the love of Coco Chanel, have been revived, the baby doll dress.

#$%^&*@! stupid Sienna Miller.

Stupid me.

Posted by jen at 05:28 PM | Comments (10)

February 11, 2007

No Napkins for You!

Saturday night I threw myself a 30th birthday a month late, the first non-dinner party and first party with more than 10 people I've ever thrown. Scary!

My Evite title was, "Hi! I'm 30!" This was also the first Evite I have ever sent out, and oh, Technology you are my boyfriend again! It was so fun to see my RSVP list evolve, and more importantly, to see how much the interim period between first view and reply varied. I do not judge the non-immediate-repliers, obviously, given my own shady Evite past. Incidentally, the "guy in another section whose birthday party I just attended" from that old post is actually The Boy! Weird! He has forgiven me my stalking.

Anyway! So, I threw a party. And I made:

- Thanksgiving favorites: cheese straws and goat cheese-stuffed dates wrapped in bacon
- Artichoke olive dip {freaking HEAVENLY) and spinach dip (definitely DO double the spinach), stolen from Gloria
- Well Fed's carmelized onion dip
-Chocolate & Zucchini's tomato and feta dip, which wasn't a super crowd favorite but I loved it and leftovers are great as pasta sauce
- Chocolate & Zucchini's White Bean and Nut Butter dip, although I couldn't find sesame butter so I replaced it w/ extra peanut butter, still YUMMY
- Chive and pine nut dip
- White sangria, only plus 1/4 cup 99 apples for 99% more fun!

What I did NOT supply?

NAPKINS. I realized at about 6:30 this morning that my poor guests had been left with nothing to wipe their cheese-straw-y hands on. Goodness only knows how they made do. I hope no one is cursing me today for greasy jeans.

By some miracle, I think that was my only major faux-pas. And I had too much fun, although at one point I was so overwhelmed at having so many people I knew in one room that I fought the urge to take a nap. Or move to Spain.

But I got lots of booty!

Including those shiny purple flats from Neeta and her man, which I actually switched into as soon as I opened them. They matched my eye shadow, believe it or not.

And lots of booze:

Including some homemade bourbon from Gwen, AWESOME!

And Gloria made me these great little magnets, inspired by Not Martha.

I had wanted to do them for Christmas presents this year, but couldn't find the large magnets when Laurie and I went to Michael's and I almost accidentally bought some Holiday Fruit coordinates. Now I see they are super cute in mini form!

So, in sum:
Hi! I'm 30! You bring me booze, you bring me presents. I give you no napkins.
xoxo
Jen

Posted by jen at 06:42 PM | Comments (11)

January 10, 2007

Vacay Part I: The Teva Gauntlet

Spending the holidays in Central America is surreal. And also kind of like a Corona ad, no?

This is just part one of many posts interesting mainly to me, but highlights of the trip included:

30th birthday misty sunrise in Tikal:

I wasn't kidding about the Swiss Family Robinson treehouse:

Or the minnow water:

Also, an incident I like to call, The Teva Gauntlet.

The Boy and I stayed at the Swiss Family Robinson farm for a couple days, run by this wonderful couple who basically built the entire infrastructure, including toilets, roads, trails, etc., on their own.

So we show up. Two city slickers, The Boy slightly less slick than me. And the wife had my number in one glance:

The flimsly flip-flops, the large hoop earrings, merlot-painted toes, the WHITE (what, am I crazy?) purse I'm hauling around Central America with my itinerary folder with matching passport holder. She knew.

So we're sitting there, talking about the hike The Boy and I are about to make down a ravine and up a waterfall. She looks at my sandals. "Those won't work. Here. You can wear my Tevas." And in one swift, triumphant gesture, she slid those muddy monstrosities under the kitchen table to me, like, HERE, let's see what you've got.

What I had, of course, is the urgent desire to retreat to the treehouse and DIE.

The Teva Gauntlet had been thrown. And there are few things in life I object to more than Tevas. I am sorry if you wear them. But they are FUGLY. They are the Courtney Peldon of footwear.

And here I was, someone who doesn't like Tevas, and who certainly doesn't like OTHER PEOPLE'S FEET, having to wear both.

But I made a quick trip to the bathroom/slab of wood with holes cut out, gave myself a stern talking-to, and came back and velcroed myself in.

The reward was being able to climb an INSANELY gorgeous waterfall built from calcified water running over rocks and leaves.

And also some sweet, sweet footly revenge. I may have worn some really ugly shoes, but she had to wear those shoes after they'd been occupied by THESE:

***

1. Also, there was a minor catastrophe with your winter mixes, oops! They'll be going out this weekend.

2. I f**^%%g hate comment spammers. In attempting to delete the 908 kapamajillion comment spams I got while out of the country, I think I deleted about 15 of yours. Oops again!

Posted by jen at 10:34 PM | Comments (8)

Two Weeks via Telegram

BACK HOME IN LA. STOP. BELIZE, GUAT UNBELIEVABLE. STOP. MORE LATER. STOP.

Posted by jen at 12:40 AM | Comments (0)

December 19, 2006

How Is a Whole Lotta Nothing SO TIRING?

First, some bidness: This is your last chance to e-mail me with your request for a winter mix CD -- sending them out tomorrow! Don't be shy, it's jen@sundayundies.com (include your mailing address)!

***

In high school, my friend Tina's senior quote was, "If the sun is a ball of energy, how come it makes me so tired?"

I feel the same way about the post-finals period. I haven't done a whole lot, but even a trip to 7-11 to buy beer seems like climbing Mt. Everest. With a sweet, sweet bubbly reward at the end.

OK, I have done some stuff. For instance, I made my first Hannukah feast (The Boy is Jewish)! I made (with help):

Chicken with Caremlized Onions (OMG, SO. GOOD.), Sage and Olives

Long-Cooked Green Beans

The Ultimate Potato Latkes

And here I am making it:

Arty photos courtesy The Boy.

Also, I have been working MY FINGERS TO THE BONE making those damn mix CDs. Painstakingly poring over tracks, HOUR after HOUR. OK, not really. But I was trained in martyrdom by the best -- my gramma. I have told the story of her afghan-crocheting/Joan of Arc-icity before.

In any case, your CDs have not been nearly as painful as crocheting an entire afghan. Also, I have had the chance to meander down my muscial memory lane, as stored in iTunes.

Three of my favorites (NONE OF WHICH made it into the CD, you can thank me now. Or not, if your bag is Rick Dees' top 10 pop songs from '90-'92):

• "One More Try", Timmy T
• "More Than Words," Extreme
• "Save the Best for Last," Vanessa Williams

Also, this reminds me that I did not share any of my embarassing tearjerkers in my last post. I was so awed by Carolyn owning up to Sommersby and -R- owning up to Rudy (both of which I cried during, btw) that I had to admit a few that didn't make the cut last time.

Namely:
• Everybody's Baby: The Rescue of Jessica McClure, which I'm embarrassed to admit how many times my family watched on VHS (approx. 87)
• Home Alone.
• Christmas Vacation, when Clark gets the lights to finally work.
• Where the Heart Is, which is one big ad for Wal-Mart, but I CANNOT HELP MYSELF.

Posted by jen at 09:26 PM | Comments (6)

November 18, 2006

Bring It, Microbes

I'm heading to Belize (woohoo!) over winter break and have to get a bunch of vaccinations, very reassuring. My Tdap innoculation (tetanus, diptheria and pretussis) has kicked my left shoulder's ass.

On the upside, I am now free to frequent bathrooms sans shoes a la Britney.

Maybe not.

Posted by jen at 12:46 PM | Comments (4)

November 08, 2006

About a Boy

Last night The Boy and I were getting ready to go see Lee "Scratch" Perry (rockin') at the House of Blues, and I was perusing my web referrals.

Me: "Oh. My. God. Not Martha linked to me!"

The Boy: "What? Who?"

Me: "Not Martha! She is so cool!! She is the one who does the marble magnets that I've been telling you about and that you've been kind of ignoring me about in that way that glassy-eyed way that men do when you start to tell them about craft projects!"

The Boy:

Me: "This. Is. So. Awesome."

The Boy: "Hm. Well, I think your readers might like to hear about this character called, 'The Boy.'"

So, here are 10 things about The Boy.

1. He's tall.
2. He's real good to me.
3. We go to school together.
4. He's younger than me. I am a cradle robber.
5. He's made me watch "Robot Chicken," which I have to admit I kind of like. However, I cannot bring myself to watch "Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law." A girl's gotta draw the line somewhere, especially when SOMEONE has TAKEN OVER your DVR and you found yourself deleting an old UFC episode so you could make room for "House Hunters," which you're kind of embarassed to admit you love to watch so much, but whatever, most of America watches "Two and a Half Men," so try to judge me now, suckas!
6. He didn't get weirded out or make fun of me when I cried because my homemade pizza was half raw. Hate you, faulty pizza stone.
7. He does, however, make fun of me when I sometimes accidentally snort when I laugh.
8. He loves his Starburies.
9. He thinks he and Fred have a special bond because they're Men.
10. I won him that tiki doll up there at the Port of Los Angeles Lobster Fest, at which he ate three entire lobsters within 20 minutes, I swear. The tiki doll is really ugly, and Fred and Ethel have both made the sweet love to it at one time or another. And yet it continues to sit on my bookshelf.

Posted by jen at 08:42 PM | Comments (4)

November 06, 2006

Assimilated into the Borg

Yesterday, Laurie and I were buying holiday decorations at Michael's. We'd been there maybe 45 minutes, wheeling our dinky cart (Well, Laurie was wheeling the cart. She rocks/is a control freak that way.) through aisles cramped with glittery floral arrangements and everything you need to scrapbook the hell out of your life.

It was after 10 minutes of debating the merits of various spools of holiday ribbon that Laurie said we had to get out of there, like, NOW. I think maybe it was my, "Oooh, it's reversible!" that did it.

We're standing in line at the check out counter, and Laurie explains:

"You know, it's like when you're at Ross, and at first you're discerning, but if you're there too long, everything starts to look good. Even stuff you knew was ugly 15 minutes ago."

I look at the contents of our cart, and realize we're lucky all I have to put back is some truly atrocious Christmas plaid ribbon. It could have been worse. I could have almost purchased some Holiday Fruit Coordinates.*

*p.s. No offense if you like sparkly fruit decorations. I'm sure you have a chic and artistic way of displaying them (maybe with some Holiday Elegance Birds? Ack, must stop but the names are so funny!). To me, they just remind me of Grandma Crystal who bought everything she owned from the Lillian Vernon catalog and whose everything she owned included a toilet paper roll that played Jingle Bells.

Posted by jen at 08:17 AM | Comments (8)

October 23, 2006

UPDATE: Legs Safely UNensconced, Other Sources of Happiness

No, no leggings will grace these gams. Thank you all for saving me from a fugly fate.

Also, the following are making me very happy:

1. I've discovered that short, black fingernails are an excellent substitute for leggings in my desire to adopt a seasonal trend!

2. THIS gives me daily, unadulterated reading pleasure.

2. Upcoming trip to NY to see these two ladies:

3. The Boy called me tonight while I was writing a paper to tell me to turn on Channel 13, where the weatherman was doing the white man's hip-hop overbite grind across the blue screen. ("And what about Saturday, Bob?" "Warmer, uh-huh, uh-huh." (thrust, thrust)). The lead story of the evening was about how cell phone usage allegedly decreases male sperm count and featured interviews of women blushing and giggling. I LOVE LOCAL NEWS.

4. Van Morrison's "Sweet Thing."

5. Women? We are crazy. But men? Just as nutty. No matter what some may think.

6. I am going to try NaBloPoMo. Because usually by the time I get around to posting something here, it's been so long I have no idea what to say. Dude, I have been boring MYSELF to tears.

7. I have decided to forego originality and repeat my Halloween costume of last year:

8. New season of Top Chef. Harold appearing as a guest judge in the first episode.

9. My family.

10. Halloween means I can finally (semi-reasonably) start thinking about Christmas. And because it's only Halloween, I can still fantasize about how I'll outdo last year's WRAPPING BONANZA before reality sets in and I end up giving everyone I know M&M candy canes I got from 7-11.

Posted by jen at 02:50 PM | Comments (5)

October 12, 2006

Into the Wild

Would any picture on this site be complete without a flash of Fred or Ethel tail?

Dude, I am going CAMPING. Which I have not done since, like, COLLEGE, during which time I also experimented for two weeks, maybe more, only Urs knows, with not shaving my legs in some UCSC-induced attempt at getting back to my "natural" state (which, btw, any deconstructionist worth her salt will tell you never existed, yay for liberal arts education! I heart Baudrillard!) and maybe with some other things as well but I'll never tell because what if I want to run for Congress? They've got standards in who they let in (bet you thought that was a link to Mark Foley, eh?)!

Anyway, I am CAMPING. AND it is probably going to rain, or maybe even SNOW. And I am happy that I'm still the kind of person who will give it a go, the ole' college try even, even though I have NO IDEA WHAT THE HELL I'M DOING. Today I learned to pitch a tent and start the PocketRocket stove.

Probably you do new things all the time. But I think because my 30th is looming (in fact, I'm even getting excited for it), I like to give myself a pat on the back any time I step out of myself and try something new. I'm laying down new tracks in my brain, you know! Staving off Alzheimers! Because I have to think about that now!

My Barbies were always 28 or 29. They were always doctors (did anyone else have the one side examining room the other side city apartment?) or equestriennes or some respectable profession, but they never made it to 30. Probably because I knew that's when my mom had me.

So I am happy, and scared, that I am going camping. Maybe we'll see some stars. Maybe the stress of slogging through the rain and making astronaut meals in a tent will be too much for us. Who knows?

It's crazy out there, man. There's like, wilderness and shit.

Posted by jen at 09:35 PM | Comments (5)

September 21, 2006

Adjustments

Smoky view from my apartment. Laurie writes about the fiery skies here.

One thing I struggle to remember is that even very good things, if they're new things, are stressful. You have to adjust to the wonderfulness.

So I've been adjusting. Some things are going more smoothly than others. Blogging, for instance, has taken a nose dive, as has my schoolwork (don't tell my mother, who after I told her I had been playing tennis with the boy called me back a few minutes later to say she hoped I wasn't skipping class. eek.).

Things I am loving, though? Well, so much, but I won't make you suffer through that. I will say, though, that I received my Very First Flowers EVER Not From My Mother. Tada:

THAT was unexpected and awesome.

Fred & Ethel are the hardest thing to deal with. Fred wakes me up every morning at 5:30 a.m. to get fed. And by "wakes up" I mean scratches at the toes of whomever happens to be in the bed and just generally making a nuisance of himself. He's also a bit of a Paris Hilton and has not enjoyed sharing the hottness spotlight with someone new.

Anyway, I've been shutting F&E out of the bedroom most evenings, which they reacted to by scratching a tunnel to China under the bedroom door. I tried to tape some tinfoil down to prevent the scratching (foolish human), and this is the result:

Yikes.

I know it will just take time and the loss of my security deposit, but if you have any suggestions on how to hasten F&E's adjustment, I am all ears.

As for my own pace of adjustment, I like it just the way it is. Because how fun is it to have something nice to adjust to for once?

Posted by jen at 10:53 AM | Comments (10)

September 14, 2006

Jimmy Buffet Is My Hero

First things first:

• Accidentally FORGOT TO PAY MY TAB at The Bowery last night: Check.


• Woken up slightly hungover by cable man: Check.


• Return of the Internet: Check.


• Feeling of exuberance so strong my hangover temporarily lifted until I did a little dance that scared Ethel and made her knock a glass of water off the table and I had to sop up the water: Check.


• Skulked into The Bowery late afternoon to pay the bill. Tipped big, felt small: Check.

As to the boy, all I can tell you is he likes pina coladas, getting caught in the rain, he's not into yoga, and he has half a brain.

And ha! Now you, like Jeff, Jen and Penny from the weekend they were visiting, have that song in your head. You'll be making love at midnight in the dunes of the cape for the rest of the day.

At least I hope you will because damn, doesn't that sound fun?

Posted by jen at 11:13 AM | Comments (3)

September 11, 2006

Oops!

The cats ate my homework?

Actually, it's just that I recently acquired:

1. A new ISP, who, FOR THE LOVE ALREADY, has still not activated my account. Next time I call them I am bringing out the big guns: tears.

2. A new boy. So far, he has not made me cry.

Posted by jen at 08:35 AM | Comments (5)

August 23, 2006

Eureka!

I know you are dying, DYING, of curiosity to see what polish color I chose, but I did not manage to get my nails done today. I decided that if I was going to clean my apartment and car, best to do that prior to a mani-pedi. Tomorrow is another day.

But cleaning is not all that I did! Nay! I also found a shirt dress.

Soooo?, you may say. But I have been coveting the shirt dress that Chloe Sevigny wore in Last Days of Disco since 1998. Ask anyone. Ask Laurie, who has heard about this shirt dress many a time. Ask Neeta, who watched me try on an ill-fitting one in Club Monaco a few months ago.

It was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen, this shirt dress Chloe wore and the way she wore it with soft blonde hair. Shirt dresses are a little bit man, a lot of woman. Like, I'm wearing your Brooks Brothers the morning after, but it's a DRESS. Very Katherine Hepburn/Kim Basinger in 9 1/2 Weeks.

This is the only picture I could find online, and it's tiny and you can only see the neck.

And today, I FOUND MINE. It is not pale blue, as Chloe's was. First of all, because I am not stupid. I am 5'2", and she is 5'9" or something obscene like that and probably weighs only a stone more than me.

And mine is UPDATED. In truth, this makes me a little sad. I'd like to be straight 1980, the last days of disco, but I hate vintage shopping. I'll do it now and then but the hunt tries my patience.

Anyway, I am ecstatic about my purchase. And also, did you see my new wallet there, which can double as a clutch?

Not bad for a day off. Eureka!

Posted by jen at 11:15 PM | Comments (5)

August 21, 2006

Bright Lights, Big City, Small World

I love L.A. Song by Beth Hart, the inspiration for last post's title. She returns to L.A., just like I have. Returned to skies without stars. In Redding, the sky is plum full of them.

At my parents', 8 miles outside of town, sleeping is weird. No drunk neighbors blasting Sublime, the only noise is the occasional car on our rural road. I used my brights driving home, something that signals extreme road rage here.

In L.A., there are no stars. But smog creates the most beautiful sunsets in the world.

My cell entry for my parents is Home. When do you think you stop thinking of your hometown as Home? I thought for sure by the time I was 30 I wouldn't think of Redding as home any more, but I don't think I'll be undergoing any radical paradigm shift by January 3.

Anyway, one of the things I love about Redding is how small of a town it is. How you can't go to the grocery store without running into someone you went to school with, how your hairdresser's husband is your contractor, how your dad performed surgery on the only decent Italian restaurant's proprietor.

But lately, I've started to realize how small L.A. can be. I've run into old friends at the grocery store, seen Tobey Maguire's preggers fiancee who went to high school with a coworker at La Scala, said hello to old coworkers at a Dodgers game and at Crustacean, and ran into a date who crushed my heart at Mastro's.

It reminds you that maybe this huge, anonymous city isn't so big. That you have to maintain your character even here because your mistakes will still be staring you in the face in the check-out line.

So when I ran into my heart-crusher? Who sat right opposite me at another table, there with his firm while I was there with mine? I said hello, how are you doing.

And at school, which started again today? Even though I would rather move from classroom to classroom in an anonymous fog, pretending I don't see anyone? I say hello, how are you doing.

It's a small world. I have to be part of it, even though it's tiring and sometimes I'd really just prefer to be left alone, sitting somewhere where the only noise you hear is the occasional car down a rural road.

Posted by jen at 11:14 PM | Comments (6)

August 14, 2006

Out of L.A.

I'm heading out of L.A. tomorrow, up to Redding to commune with the sun and Penny and my parents, and these lovely ladies, my best friends from high school:

It's good. I've spent too much time in my apartment and my desire for organizational and hygienic perfection has perhaps made me a little nutty. Tonight I CONSOLIDATED MY ADDRESS BOOKS.

I'm happy to head home, to a place where people have mullets sans irony, and where, when you take your cats to the vet to get sedatives so they can have a 2-martini lunch of an 8-hour drive, you don't come out $600 poorer and with a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress syndrome. For your CAT. Who, btw, now has her own PTSS bunker.

The vet in fact recommended I create several around my apartment, but shiite. I do want to date again one day, and I can't expect to bring a man home to a cat shanty town.

You can't tell your vet this, however. When he's all enthusiastically describing the labyrinth of cardboard boxes you should be constructing to create a zen-space for your neurotic animal, you can't really shout out, "MY GOD MAN, HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO EVER GET LAID?"

Instead, you build a little oasis out of your DVD box (which can be conveniently stowed in the event of guests) and hope to goodness it works.

MY GOD MAN, I NEED TO GET OUT OF THIS TOWN.

Posted by jen at 11:37 PM | Comments (5)

August 13, 2006

The Furry Contained

Uh, hello, blog.

I wish I could tell you I've been doing something exciting these last couple weeks to justify my absence. But instead, all I can tell you is I've been CLEANING HOUSE.

You might think that I'm crazy for spending five days straight cleaning my 500 sq. ft. apartment. But can I tell you? I FEEL AWESOME. I finally feel like my old self. I've crossed crap off my to-do list that's been there for OVER A YEAR. Plus, I have eradicated my cat hair problem with this:

It's funny. I won't buy this really amazing smelling laundry detergent at Restoration Hardware because I think if I start buying designer laundry detergent, WHERE WILL IT END? First it will be the 600-thread-count sheets to wash with the detergent, and next thing you know I'm buying Kate Spade playing cards and refusing to serve anything but Kobe beef at my dinner parties.

I know my love for things being lovely and fancy and know that's a road I just can't start down.

But I will spend $400 on a vaccuum. But that's about being CLEAN and EFFICIENT and somehow easier to justify (even tho, really, the reason I got it is so that I can have dinner parties without appalling my guests or sending them into allergy-induced asthma attacks). It was worth every penny! I'm not going to include photos of the cat-hair carnage wreaked on its first whirl around my apartment because a) it's embarassing, and b) I don't want you to hack up a hairball by visual osmosis.

Anyway, I guess I've accomplished some other crap as well:

• Secured myself a J-O-B when I graduate law school, for an awesome firm filled with awesome people, woohoo!
• Got my computer fixed, which means that everyone who signed up for a summer CD mix will be getting them in the mail later this week, just in time for fall!
• Watched the Giants lose to the Dodgers with Neeta and Penny and waved at Moises Alou
• Spent a lovely evening with Laurie, Drew, Faith, Gwen, and Allison

So I'm in a better place now, dear blog. A place where I'm more likely to have something to say besides, "meh." A place where I'm likely to do more than hack up a ball of vitriol. Crisis averted, disaster contained.

Posted by jen at 11:43 PM | Comments (8)

August 01, 2006

The Furry Unleashed

The heat has broken, and my cats can come within two feet of me without getting heatstroke. So suddenly, they are all up in my bidness. And because they haven't let me pet them in two weeks, the fur? It is a-flyin'. They are shedding at the rate of a carpet a day.

I'm not going to include a picture of this because a) I do not want you to hack up a hairball by visual osmosis, and b) it's a little embarassing, and c) I kind of hate my stupid camera and want a new one. Do you SEE that picture above? That is supposed to be a beautiful clear view from my office, 35th floor, to the ocean. It is SO UGLY.

Anyway, today I went to a women's tea at my firm, so we could be all empowered yet womanly and crap. And it was nice, to have so much estrogen in the room (sorely lacking in any firm, really). But then, all the wedding and baby talk started, and usually I am just fine with that, whatevs, maybe I'll be there and want to talk about it some day.

But today, I am so damn grumpy, all I really wanted to say (nay, yell) was, "Hey! I kissed a 26-year-old PA last weekend! When really drunk!" and see if any heads would spin.

I did not do this of course. Instead I ate my mini-egg salad sandwich and scone and smiled. Legs crossed, back straight, hands and napkin in lap.

2.5 days at the firm left. Then Penny and I are up in Redding, tanning in a kiddie pool and doing yoga and escaping into books for a week.

So for the time being, the fury still leashed. But the fur, the fur, it is everywhere.

Posted by jen at 09:59 PM | Comments (4)

July 27, 2006

There's No CRYING in BASEBALL

Yeah, and there is no crying at work, either. But me? I have done it. At EVERY JOB I HAVE EVER HAD. Truly. Usually to my boss. Usually because someone was being mean on the playground.

But can I tell you? I know, it is WRONG, and you can tell me how appalling it is and how women never get anywhere once they cry. But it has never held me back, I don't think.

Today two women in my office, very nice women, were talking about how they never cried at work. And I was all perky-like, "Really? I always do!" And then I had to retract and say, well, oh I did, but I went into the bathroom, or took a walk or whatever. But the truth is, I have cried in my boss' office in every job ever. There you go.

I think my saving grace is that I'm a hard worker. It's one of the very few life skills I have. I can't cook, remember to fill out an expense report or find a decent man, but I can work. And my bosses know this, and like this because it makes them look good. So they don't mind if once a year I muffle a sob or two and wipe a tear away and my voice trembles because, well, shit, I didn't do it in front of anyone else and man, doesn't he look good this month because of the work I did.

And usually, they know it's because I'm at the breaking point. They've overloaded me, and I've taken it like a tearful Man. So they can't complain.

But today I cried to my LANDLORD. That poor man. After he lent me a giant fan. But I've been without A/C for two weeks now, in one of the worst national heat waves ever. Last night I slept on top of a sleeping bag on the floor next to my patio sliding doors. For reals, yo.

He tried to break the news to me gently:

Landlord: "Hey Jen. Have you been home yet and seen how the new fan is working?!"

Grumpy me at 7:00 p.m: "No. I'm just driving home from work."

(too long pause, in which I realize life is not getting better any time soon)

Me: "So. What did the A/C guy say? Does G-d hate me or no?"

(really, that's what I said. I'm REALLY GRUMPY.)

Landlord: "Well, I did get to talk to him today.... And well..... the soonest he'll be able to get to you is next Wednesday..."

Me: "Noooooooo."

(seriously, I really made that sound.)

Me: "Noooooooo."

After that I don't know what I said. It was a blubbery mess.

And I know, it was WRONG, and appalling, and it probably won't get my A/C fixed any sooner.

But damn if I didn't feel better after a good cry.

And that fan he lent me? It's no A/C, and I'll still be sleeping on a sleeping bag tonight in front of it, but that's better than sleeping in front of my sliding glass door with nary a hint of a breeze.

Which makes me think why the HELL didn't I buy myself a fan earlier? Because I refused to accept the fact I didn't have A/C, that's why.

Accepting my fate is still a life skill I haven't developed. And so sometimes, I cry.

Posted by jen at 10:12 PM | Comments (6)

July 14, 2006

Hotness

My A/C is out. Just walking to my bathroom makes me sweat. It's going to be 95 tomorrow. Should I be grateful I have to get up at the butt-crack of dawn to get up and go do work for my school journal in the air-conditioned halls of UCLA when I've worked 60 hours this week? Should I be grateful I have to spend the day in air-conditioned splendor picking out a dress for tomorrow's dinner at a Firm partner's house? And for how heavenly AC'd her palatial estate is sure to be?

Maybe I should. OK, I'm going to MAKE myself be grateful.

Besides, how much does that thermometer look like a certain piece of male anatomy? For my ability to see that and laugh, through the haze of memos and Lexis-Nexis searches?

For that, YES, yes I am grateful.

That's HOT.

Posted by jen at 07:09 PM | Comments (5)

June 08, 2006

Realization of a Dream, Maybe Two, Maybe Even Three

Finally I finished the photo gallery for Jeffie's wedding.

Two, I got the Comcast version of TiVo. AND I hooked it up by myself, no boyfriend required. This is a major accomplishment for me.

Three, tomorrow is TFGIF. I added a new letter to that acronym, which suits how I feel. Being a pseudo-lawyer is hard. I haven't had one day yet where I didn't have a stress headache by 3 pm. I now understand Gloria's tale of her friend who didn't drink, but after his first summer at a firm, started drinking vodka doubles, straight up.

Posted by jen at 11:01 PM | Comments (12)

June 05, 2006

Stickin' It to The Man, 1/16 of a Gallon and One Toilet Roll at a Time

Today I had to rent a car while my A/C got fixed. Which of course turned into the power steering being broken and my brakes being replaced and suddenly, whoops, $1600 later I'm picking up practically a brand new freaking car at the dealership.

BUT, I got my revenge. It was only 11 miles to work and back from the rental place, and I did not get any gas! And they didn't notice!! Eleven miles of FREE GAS, people. I know I saved my self at least, you know, a DOLLAR. Somehow, this made me feel better.

Also, this has nothing to do with anything, except I was cleaning my bathroom this weekend, using my brand new disposable toilet scrubbers, which I know, are bad for the environment but they make me so happy, and I threw in a toilet roll switch-out for good measure. And I remembered this time when I was YOUNG and STUPID. You know, three years ago.

I was dating this awful chef, and he told me that one of his pet peeves was people who put the toilet roll on backwards, so it rolls out going up instead of down. At the time I thought it was an odd pet peeve considering global warming and irresponsible people like me eating off paper plates, but whatevs. I hate board shorts. Whatever floats your boat, gets your goat and so on. And again, I was YOUNG and STUPID, so I nodded and was like, "Oh, yeah, me, too."

He ended up coming over one unfortunate evening, and I'd forgotten all about my faux-peeve. But then after half a bottle of wine I had to visit the powder room, and, you know what's coming. Paper rolling out and up. %#%^$@. I didn't say anything, just switched the roll around and came out hoping he hadn't noticed earlier. But I could tell by his smirk he had checked and was enjoying watching me squirm. Prick.

So now every time I switch the roll out I have to remember how once I was YOUNG and STUPID. But that's OK. Because sometimes I let it roll out and up, baby! Just because I can. I'm stickin' it to The Man, one roll at a time.

Posted by jen at 10:42 PM | Comments (9)

June 04, 2006

Sweatin' to the Oldies

My car AC is broken. Broken.*

Tomorrow I take the car in, thank goodness. Until then, it's HOT in LA. So I've mastered the best "my AC is broken" driving position. Namely, all windows open, pitched forward into the steering wheel (avoiding back contact with seat), arms akimbo (avoiding arm contact with torso, also providing nice airway under 'pits (yes, I am so genteel)). And at every stop light, propelling myself up off the seat as far as possible to ensure some air flow under my ass. Lovely, lovely.

Anyway, I've been driving around, all sweaty-like, fine-tuning my new summer mix, figuring out what songs I skip through and what I hanker for as a replacement. And a fair number are oldies but goodies. Throw-back songs that get you in the mood for a long, hot summer. Not "Gonna Make You Sweat." Not Keith Sweat (egads, no). And definitely not like the actual songs from Sweatin' to the Oldies. But definitely something that makes you want to get your (slow-ish) groove on with a G&T or whatever your summer drink of choice.

So now's your last chance. It's June, as I predicted it'd be before I sent them out. I already received a few e-mails. If anyone else wants a copy, they're going out this weekend. E-mail me at jen@sundayundies.com if you want me to mail you one!

*p.s. Is it wrong after I wrote this I thought of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman with her opera glasses? I tell you, that movie is haunting me these days for some reason.

Posted by jen at 10:14 PM | Comments (7)

May 30, 2006

The Fairy Tale

My baby brother got married to a wonderful woman this weekend. It was the most amazing thing. My favorite moments:

1) Watching Jeff pace the garden at The Hastings House, memorizing his vows.

2) When my sister and I both realized simultaneously that the second song they played was from Pretty Woman (Lauren Wood's Fallen), the scene where they get on the plane to head to the SF opera house.

3) Watching my mom and dad cut some serious rug on the dance floor. Never seen either one of them dance before.

4) Hearing Jeff's wife(!) Jen use the words, "like" and "awesome" in her vows. She rocks.

5) Knowing that whatever life brings them, they'll face it with love.

It's funny. I've lost my innocence about marriage. Part of it might be watching Laurie go through the last few years of hell. Part of it might be watching my own ill-begotten hopes at matrimony fall apart. I've stopped thinking it will definitely happen for me mainly because I know I won't let it happen unless it's with someone I know is in it for the long haul. And that's hard to come by. Usually you can weed them out by the second date, really. Sometimes even the first.

Not many people have staying power.

But watching my brother and Jen stand up there in front of everyone, seeing their eyes full of love, knowing they'll make it. Then watching my parents and Jen's parents get their groove on. Made me think, well, maybe.

Maybe. I'm not ready to get googly-eyed and 22 again. And I definitely don't want the fairy tale. I don't even really think I'm ready to get married. But maybe I'm ready to stop being such a cynic and get out there again and hope for the best. Not for the fairy tale, but for something warm and comfortable, and, as Jen says, for something awesome.

Posted by jen at 09:43 PM | Comments (6)

May 22, 2006

Harold Always Puts Me in a Good Mood

You know when you start a new job, and you don't know what the hell you're doing for the first few weeks, months?

That is where I am.

And I don't know if this happens to you, but when I am unmoored in one area of my life, the rest of it comes untethered. Suddenly, I am saying inappropriate things and doing even more inappropriate things and SICK and not calling people back and my apartment is a mess and my arms start to look fat in my mind. This is just how it goes. Fun for the whole family!

"This is how it goes" reminds me of the "it is what it is" montage during the Top Chef reunion show. Did anyone read that William Safire NYT piece on that phrase? Normally WS gives me hives, but I liked this one. Also, can I tell you how cute Harold from Top Chef is? And also, can you believe they chose this double-chin shot for his online bio? Who did he piss off?

I dunno, but he's still so cute! He can forget my jicama any day. And haha if you don't watch the show because you are trying to figure out what forgetting the jicama could be a euphamism for. Actually, if you think of anything funny, lemme know!

And all this STUFF has distracted me from one of the most important things ever to happen to our family. To wit: my little brother Jeff is getting MARRIED next weekend? Married? Married! Married? Married! I can't even fathom all the ways this will change us all. I am grateful, in any case, that he has chosen the best possible match for him ever, Jen.

And you know, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. But since Jeff knows about this part of Jen's bachelorette party in Vegas last weekend, here are Jen's boobs in her Bridefest 2K6 t-shirt that Penny and I made for her. And also, there's the shrimp cake from Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill.

And here are the fantabulous rings Jen's best lady Nicole put in our goodie bags.

And now, writing this, reality is setting in, my brother is GETTING MARRIED PEOPLE!, and I am just so excited for this weekend. And so is Warren Slocum; just ask my too funny brother Jeff. Oh, the humanity.

Posted by jen at 08:47 PM | Comments (8)

May 10, 2006

Do Not Taunt Happy Fun Ball

In just a few hours I will be playing my first team sport (kickball) in, oh, about FIFTEEN YEARS. I'm more than a little nervous.

I don't have a good track record in team sports. I played softball in elementary school, and was doing fine, made my way up to shortstop from third base until, I don't know, somehow my luck changed. I think it was this ground ball that bounced up and gave me a big goose egg in the middle of my forehead, which then drained down until I had two black eyes for weeks. My confidence was on shaky ground after that, and then next thing you know I start throwing the bat. Finally, I totally creamed the pitcher and got ejected from the game. And of course that was a game my dad could actually attend. Oh, the shame.

So I'm a little nervous about this evening. I have several nightmare images running through my mind, most of which involve me on the ground with my pants around my knees.

At least I have some cute new sweats to wear! Although they are a little tighter than what I'm accustomed to. I hope no one judges. Jen "Slutty Sweats" SundayUndies is not a good nickname.

Luckily, kickball just involves a nice, happy friendly red ball -- how bad can it be, right? This is what I'm telling myself. But if the ball begins to smoke, I will get away immediately. Seek shelter and cover head.

Posted by jen at 05:36 PM | Comments (11)

April 23, 2006

Even the Cats Are Sick of Me. Also, I May Smell. But! A Limited-Time Offer!

It's finals season again. I haven't left my apartment in three days. For reals, yo. Even Fred & Ethel have had enough of me. By which I mean they spend at least 12 hours a day glued to my side, using my laptop keyboard as a pillow and my books as comfy perches. Very helpful. Please. Save. Me.

No, I won't subject you to my woes. Instead I'll tell you about LAST weekend, when finals were still just on the horizon, the sun was out, and I managed to hit two of my summer staples!

1) Bizarrely-Shaped Sunburns

All due to an hour on a law school bench reading about "special needs" justifications of searches without reasonable suspicion. This reminds me of a sunburn my dad once got when we went on a Hawaiian cruise and oh, that poor man. His pasty white legs hadn't seen the sun since his Dr. Steyskal's housewarming party in 1980, or maybe that time he wacked the weeds in record Sacramento heat back in 1984. Anyhoo, they were PALE, and we went KAYAKING. Just imagine. If your legs have not seen sun in ten years, and you plop them face-up in a kayak for five hours. Where only a little strip of them, plum down the center, is exposed to the sun. Eek. He missed two days of the rest of the cruise holed up in the cabin -- pants were too painful to bear, and you can't go lava-stalking in your underwear.

2) A Dodgers-Giants Game with Penny

At which she drank her FIRST LEGAL BALLPARK BEER! A milestone in any young sports fan's life. Goooooooooooooooo, Penny!

Also, check out the right-field foul line marker, how battered with ball marks it is.

And Now, The Offer

And in the spirit of summer, and because I have to remind myself there is life beyond finals, I am offering yet again a summer mix CD, just for you! To be sent out in JUNE, after finals are over. E-mail me at jen@sundayundies.com with a mailing address if you want a copy!

Posted by jen at 11:13 PM | Comments (5)

April 12, 2006

Spreading the Love to the Necks of Los Angeles

You know how sometimes it's an appropriate form of taking leave to kiss someone on the cheek?

You know how it's NOT an appropriate form of taking leave to kiss someone on the neck?

Yeah.

Sometimes I appear to forget this. Or rather, I forget how incredibly SHORT I am and misjudge the distance up to a man's cheek and suddenly plant a soft one on his neck.

Agh.

I did this last night AGAIN, only I was lucky because he was a little shorter than most men I give goodbye cheek kisses to and I ended up flush on his cheekbone. Dangerously close to take-me-home-baby-neck-kissing territory, but definitely still in the friendly cheek-kissing zone.

I really can't believe I even continue to give cheek kisses. Of the last 12 I've attempted, I've ended up on the neck about 78% of the time. What is wrong with me? Laurie claims I have a Napoleon complex, but I attribute it to whatever it is that causes my bad parallel parking and night vision. OK, and also wine.

In any case, thank goodness I live in LA and not Paris or Moscow, somewhere where there is a LOT of cheek-kissing. At least here my humiliation is confined to a handful of confused and wetnecked men, not everyone I know.

Posted by jen at 11:09 AM | Comments (11)

April 11, 2006

Bunnies and Turnips

Santa Cruz, partial site of weekend retreat to/from bunnies and turnips.

First, my apologies. I try to write happy stuff, but it is like trying to squeeze blood from a turnip these days, and we all know what that is like! Oh, wait, we don't. Hm. Anyhoo, bunnies! Turnips!

I am GRUMPY. I have been grumpy for a couple months now. Glenn-Close-boiling-bunnies GRUMPY.

OK, I am exaggerating somewhat, but really, I am GRUMPY. See my chart. Also, see bunnies! and turnips! later on in this post.

WHY am I so grumpy? See "Inexpicable ennui: source unknown."

I'm not really able to put my finger on it, but here you go:

1) Can't figure out how to link text in the images from Excel spreadsheets I create. So you will never know about the time my father had heart surgery, I was Lone-Ranger'd, and 200 pages behind in Con Law.

2) The bottom of my foot is bruised from walking the Mean Streets of SF. Can't believe I used to walk those hills all the time.

3) I was recently dissed by a date.

4) I took on a new, "prestigious" (pres-tee-gious for those of you who grew up like I did, pres-tih-jus for those of you who didn't) position on a law journal that involves an hour a day of being someone's Excel bitch and am having flashbacks of being someone's admin in NY. p.s. I am almost f--king THIRTY.

5) There are only three weeks left before finals. Hari-kari, anyone?

6) I still haven't sent out thank-you notes from Christmas. I am a horrible person.

At least I got out of town for the weekend. And got to spend it with Gloria, who has already posted a bizarre, embarassing video of me and this bunny:

I met our bunny (Gloria has her own) while having a SIX-course drink-a-toriam of dessert wines at The Hidden Vine. Yummy. I love me some port and muscat.

Then, I got to see Ursula, her husband Mike and debonair brother Carlos. At Santa Cruz' only (not exaggerating) non-dive bar, The Red. Go Banana Slugs!

And of course "turnip" was one of the words I tried to fool Gloria with during our road-trip home tournament of "fruits and vegetables" Hangman. To no avail. p.s., can you believe that girl tried to pull "pluot" on me. Pluot???? Who has heard of a pluot before?? Cheater.

Only. All this time away with good company? Just makes you wish things were less bunnies and turnips at home. Grump. Grump. Grump.

Posted by jen at 12:06 AM | Comments (14)

April 05, 2006

A Plate of Random Crap

Since Paris, my life has been void of anything interesting enough to amount to an entry. So I give you: A Plate of Random Crap.

1) The Great Darkness of 2006
When my mom stayed here, watching my cats while I was in Paris, somehow every lightbulb in my apartment went out. In slow, painful succession. I say somehow, but really I know exactly what happened. I just have to harken back to The Great Darkness of 2005, when it was finals and I was working by the two remaining lightbulbs left in my apartment for weeks. And then finals were over, I made a celebratory trip to Target, and replaced them all. And my poor mom was here for their progressive death. I kid you not, she had to replace NINE lightbulbs. That's right, she had to get up on chairs or stools (she's even shorter than me), NINE TIMES. Nine times? Nine times. I am a horrible daughter.

2) Retro Chic or Just Crazy?
Tonight I accidentally went down into my laundry room with PEGGED PANTS. I was painting my toenails, and to prevent any smudging, I pegged my pajama pants. After the last coat, I remembered my laundry, freaked out that my clothes had been in the washers probably MILDEWING or getting STOLEN, and booked it down there. Still with pegged pants. And of course, even at 11:00 at night this dude was in there. BUT he had checkerboard Vans on, so I really think he probably thought I was pegging my pajama pants ironically, a little old school throwback. I mean, really? If you saw a woman in pegged red polka dot pajama pants and a blue sweatshirt frantically stuffing her wet clothes into the maw of the dryer, you would totally think retro chic, right? You certainly wouldn't think, WTF, that woman has PEGGED her PAJAMAS?

3) In which Iwantoquitmyjob
When I worked at the bank with Laurie, often I would think to myself, "I want to quit my job." It became quite a mantram. I'd be in the shower, the car, or taking a run, and in alternate breaths it was: "Iwanto. Quitmyjob." These days, in the shower, I'm thinking: Iwanto. Quitmyjob. Only? I HAVE NO JOB.

4) Lazy or just efficient?
I never completely unpacked my suitcases from Paris. This is totally acceptable because I am heading up to SF soon, non?

5) Senorita, I'm Lovin' It, Cry Me a River Like I Love You
Justin Timberlake, I am really sorry. Back in 1999, when I was a freelance writer, I wrote a not-very-flattering review of your *NSync (sp?) show. But you know what? Numero Uno on my task list tomorrow is transferring Justified onto my iPod before my trip because no road trip is complete without a little "Cry Me a River." Also, dear road trip companion Gloria? I am really sorry if you are not a JT fan, but I cannot pass through that damn heinous dairy farm right before the 5/580 junction without a little JT. He Rocks My Body right. By which I mean, somehow, he masks the smell of cow shit.

Posted by jen at 11:11 PM | Comments (5)

March 30, 2006

I Did Indeed Love Paris in the Springtime

I'm back in LA from Paris. Back to driving, American Cokes, Fred & Ethel and Business Associations reading. No more pain au chocolat, verres du vin, foie gras (except the stuff I brought back, wee!), no more walking the streets of Paris in awe from morning til night.

I think the most shocking thing for me was the city's architecture. I had no idea. You are going to think I am silly, but truly? I thought all the movies I'd seen filmed in Paris? Were only filmed in the scenic parts. I did not realize the ENTIRE CITY looked like that. Our first day we walked from our hotel in the Latin Quarter to the Champs-Elysees, and I kept waiting to suddenly come upon some modern skyscrapers or strip malls. But the beautiful buildings just kept on keepin' on. Amazing.

Two of my favorite bits:

Walking along the Seine, watching Parisians buy flowers and plants and food for their beloved chiens.

Pere Lachaise, walking (and towards the end, as it closed, running) among the crypts. Some well-loved and well-attended (like Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison's), and some abandoned, like this one.

Laurie has more photos, and I'm sure we'll be fighting over who gets to tell what story, so that's all for now.

Posted by jen at 01:00 PM | Comments (8)

March 21, 2006

L.A. Hair

I freakin' love Jonathan Antin of Blow Out. In the season premiere this evening, he managed to pump out these beauts:

• "More product than God and hair has ever seen."
• "He lets me do what I do best -- make beauty."
• "I don't cut and tell, simple as that, bro."

Last summer, before The Austrian left, I got him some Jonathan product to remember me by (he also loved the show, and also was a little Jonathan-like, but in a good way, hi! Austrian! if you are reading). By that point, Blow Out had gotten HUGE and I had to trot my little fanny down to first Barney's and then to Jonathan (the salon itself) itself to find some. Now, it's EVERYWHERE.

I've ridden the rollercoaster of hair in LA from Jonathan-esque to SuperCuts, and since Laurie and I are both getting cuts tomorrow in preparation for PARIS!!, I thought I'd share.

First haircut in LA
Allan and I had just moved here from SF, where I was used to my Aveda salon, where they gave you an aromatherapy head massage and offered you cucumber water in Japanese tea cups. I was not ready for LA hair.

In the span of two hours, he plucked my eyebrows (unasked for, also I WANTED TO DIE INSIDE OF OVERGROWN-EYEBROWED SHAME), introduced me to Nancy Cartwright's agent, and told me Patrica Velasquez was unimpressive in real life. I was appalled by the name-dropping. I did not yet realize that ALL of LA did this.

Try #2
I went to Shannon's hairstylist in Silver Lake. She did not listen to a word I said and cut my hair into a very (ahem) avant-garde shape. This works for Shannon -- she always has AMAZING hair. But I wore a suit and heels to work at the time and could not, um, SPIKE OUT in odd places. Also, I think this might have been the time I cried to Laurie that I was "shorn of my beauty." Yes, I said those words. I'm pretty sure I got that from Little Women.

Nirvana
By this point, I knew what it meant to live in LA. I loved me some celebrity sightings. I knew what expensive hair looked like. So, I went to Juan Juan, to its owner, Sean Jigambloo, and to Tracy for color. Oh (wipes nostalgic tear from eye), my hair had never looked so good. Perhaps this is pa