Heh.

I'm hoping this will be the sentiment on Wednesday. (Vote!)

From Gennita Low's site.

Mmm

Because I can.



Fanny came for a visit and we ate our way through my city (and a neighbouring city), got lots of free books (and paid some money for others) and ate brownies and ice cream late at night. Fanny also introduced me to this awesome sushi place, near my university.

Perfect. Just like Mr. Ackles.

In two days...

Fanny'll be visiting me! I'll have to put on my party hat.

Bummed

Like Fanny, I don't have much to write about either. Work, writing and actually having a social life is taking up heaps of time. Then I got hit by a bike on Friday and spent much of the weekend limping about or in bed.

So, another recommendation for yous. This is from the finale of The Vicar of Dibley. You can catch it on YouTube. It's highly recommended for Richard Armitage: check him out in those jeans and leather jacket. Perfect "comfort viewing" as it were, great for the upcoming colder, winter-y days.

Nothing can compare

I meant to post this on Friday--Talk like a Pirate Day--but was too busy being sick and wondering whether the feeling of wandering in a world filled with cotton wool would go away. I found this at my local library's book sale last week (for 50c!). I love the yellow shirt/eyepatch combo on the bloke (and that he appears to be wearing wellies--well-prepared, you might say) but am a bit concerned that the lady appears to have come up on deck wearing a nightie and a (fur?) neck wrap.

I've actually not managed to make myself read it--mostly because I've been swamped with work but also because I fear the actual story will be a sad letdown after that cover.

Hector Neglector.

I've been absent for a while. I don't have a good excuse or exciting adventures to retell. I think that's the problem. That there are no exciting adventures to post here and so I haven't.

I'm in this weird place of unemployment right now and I hate. I hate explaining why I'm not working, why my job prospects are defined by certain requirements so as not to render the past six years null and void, why I'm living at home,why I have no money, why I'm in this weird dependent stage again.

And yet I'm kind of having a good time. There's this certain amount of irresponsibility and flow and yes, I can do that because I have no appointments, no time I have to be at work or time I have to be at work until. It's kind of awesome.

But I need to be working again. I need to feel like an adult, like I'm responsible, that my life is moving onward, not stagnating. And it will happen, I have no doubt. But this interim time, this slice out of real life is bizarre. I'm kind of ashamed (read: a lot. Damn stupid work ethic), and still find myself thinking "I should savor being able to wake up when I want to because this isn't going to happen again for the rest of my life." Like I said, bizarre.

There are reviews to be reviewed. I think Bum has one about the certain object of a stalkery adolescent vampire.

Though not much can top Samurai Girl.

recommending

Yous probably won't realise that I'm doing you a favour but I am. Go and watch Samurai Girl (broadcast on ABC family today; available online, I'm sure). It's full of cheesy (Asian and otherwise) stereotypes, an awful storyline and general all-round badness that yous should enjoy.

And the Japan scholar chap is hot. Why aren't more of my academic mates like him?

ETA: I was talking (off blog) with Fanny just now and she asked whether we should be happy that there was a show with an Asian leading lady/cast or whether we should despair at the rampant propagation of stereotypes (not just Asian, but the culturally-sensitive martial arts bloke, the geeky guy, the brilliant scholar who gives up a job for his principles, etc etc). In honour of a show that, in my youth, did a lot to skewer stereotypes, I give yous this: Goodness Gracious Me* and "Going out for an English".



* For those unfamiliar with GGM, check out Youtube for some classic clips. It ran for a few years in the mid-late 1990s and starred folks who would later go on to bigger (and better?) things.

Date

In the hopes of acquiring a social life, I went out to dinner tonight. The chap was fantastic--French and, like all French stereotypes, sophisticated, charming, and all consideration. I was wined (he picked the wine), dined (the restaurant was posh and absolutely beyond my usual student budget) and walked home (he accompanied me).

However, having recently discovered Professional Bull Riding (my sister and I were hooked after a couple of viewings), I'd rather have had one of these types (except without the bull, of course):

Romance at Borders

On Sunday, I accompanied my sister to my local Borders. While she dithered about, trying to decide what to buy to take on her long train journey, I saw that Nalini Singh's Mine to Possess was already available, despite having a release date of 2 September (said date having been etched in my mind since this series is, so far, the only series I have followed since its start). I picked it up and went to pay for it.

The lady behind the counter smiled. I smiled back, gave her my book and waited. She looked at the book, looked at me (decked out in "I'm an astronomer in training" T-shirt that I'd picked up during my summer travels) and said, "I always thought these books were only for one thing. You can tell, can't you, looking at the cover"
Me: Eh?
Her: Well, he's hot, isn't he? Look at that (points out the cover model )
Me: And you can't see his face, which makes him perfect.
Her: Bursts out laughing. Continues laughing loudly. Keeps going until my sister, the other people in line, other staff and even people at the back of the store are looking over . Ohhh....that's funny...hahahah...that is really good. I've not laughed…hahhahah.
Me: Umm...great. Can I take the book, now? (and put it in my bag )
Her: holding on to the book I remember this other book. It had a couple and they were wearing very little, you know, you could see her breasts and it was winter! There was snow everywhere! I couldn't think how they would...
Me: These books are just for fun, I reckon. Not for thinking. Logic doesn't come into it.
Her: Still...this seems a good one...haha... I wonder what he does?

my sister, who'd had enough socialising by now, interrupted and dragged me away but not before I saw two of my current students among the group of people observing all this.


ETA: For some reason, I can't upload pictures or anything right now. Maybe Fanny'll help? Or, just go here to have a look at the cover. I think I've fixed it. I also think I've killed the computer my department gave me. Ah well.

I wish I were exiled

I hadn't heard of either of these shows but I would like to see what happens when a "half-Jewish, half-Persian" 16 year old rich girl from Beverly Hills is shipped to a "remote part of Thailand" (but with cameras following her, right?) to live with a family who sells elephant dung for a living.

Via Jezebel.

Know thyself

In between entertaining myself and my (visiting) sister, prepping for a new semester and generally being in the doldrums, I've been a bad, bad blogger. But, no worries, I'm back and ready and have heaps to say in September. Assuming I'll make it through September, that is. Sometimes, life is not quite the jolly adventure I'd like it to be. But, there're always tests to ensure I'll always know who the "real" me is :)

Your result for How geeky are you?...

Laboratory Geek

You scored 74% Geeky, 84% Cranial and 78% Introverted. You are quirky, intelligent, and like to fly solo. You're too curious to live a hermit's life and would much rather be working on some sort of interesting project though be it alone.

You might find it hard to connect with other people or you might have anxiety in social situations. It may be easier to avoid people as much as possible, but this will only limit the possiblies in your life. The world needs the contibution of people with brains like yours! So what to do? Baby steps. Whenever something feel uncomfortable socially, it's usually the right thing to do. Step outside your comfort zone a bit, take a deep breath and don't be afraid to ask the people around you for help.

Take How geeky are you? at HelloQuizzy

Weirdly obsessed.

So you know how Bum and I are oddly obsessed with Twilight? It's sick and compelling. Someone who shall not be named spent an embarrassing amount of time watching YouTube trailers for the movie coming out (which has apparently taken the new Harry Potter release date. Rat bastards). Anyway, though I (we?) am weirdly obsessed, I (we?) am still vaguely contemptuous and refuse to read the books. Because of the principle. What principle that is, I don't know. The I am incredibly annoying and judgmental principle? Probably. Hey. I don't judge how you live your life (except I (we?) totally do).

So even though the person who shall not be named watched all those trailers, this trailer is SO MUCH BETTER.



Thanks to the Smart Bitches.

Small town wonder.

This weekend I went to the wedding of a friend of a friend. I feel like significant things happened that I want to talk about and yet I've started this entry about three times and have no idea what I want to talk about.

Should I talk about the dresses and the way people (bridal party and guests) were dressed? But I don't want to do that because it was an important day for two people and to them, everything was wonderful, just the way they wanted it to be. I'm uncomfortable with the snark.

Should I talk about the Very, Very Religious Hotel/Camp we stayed at? With icons of Jesus on the wall, but no teevee and pillows that smelled of old people and a policy where you had to pay extra for a key to your room? No. It was fine. We maybe spent seven hours in it and it served its purpose.

Should I talk about the bar with the myriad stuffed animals, and by that I mean an actual elephant head, the actual front half of a giraffe, a leopard cub and its mama, and many, many other disturbing examples of taxidermy? No. That was pretty amusing even if I was afraid to be left alone with the intense creepiness of it.

Should I talk about Old and Really Old? Two men who now think "shooting cows with Prince" means "going to a wedding"? Maybe. That's kind of interesting actually.

Should I talk about the man in a baseball cap and Rolling Rock shirt, who was both a firefighter and a chiropractor (allegedly), who rubbed my arm and told me stories about town happenings and offered himself as an escort to another rowdy bar? The one who C wanted to frisk against her car and the one I've thought about at odd times? Why? I have no idea. I'm not even sure what he looked like (much, much alcohol went into the making of this weekend). But his fingers were soft, he made me laugh and he thinks my name is not one that it actually is.

Should I talk about him?

I think I may keep that to myself.

attraction

In the past couple of days, I've met a couple of guys. Well, I've met loads of people but two particular guys I want to talk about. Both were similar--East coast transplants to the Southwest, wicked sense(s) of humour, extroverts (both are in customer service-y jobs so have to be, I guess), and with similar builds (skinny, blond/red haired, well-defined muscles but not all muscle-y, if that makes sense). And, yet, I found yesterday's guy totally annoying and oh-so-ready to be bopped on the head while I found today's guy ready to be jumped/fantasised about.

I realised things were bad when, laying on a rock by a stream, I noticed he had lovely arm hair (is there a term for this?) and rather shocked myself by imagining all the things that could be done with/to that.

In the middle of the bloody day. After a long, gruelling hike. Arm hair. Seriously.

As Fanny'd probably tell yous, I'm not really the sort who fancies blokes off-the-cuff. And yet, today, I spent most of the day noticing minute details about this bloke: nice fingernails (well cut, blunt), lovely legs (probably from hiking up and down mountains), capable, excellent taste in music (we discussed this) and a curiousity about places and people. Oh and very easy to talk to.

Of course, I did nothing. What would I do since I'm leaving tomorrow? What would I say, anyway? "Look, you're really fanciable, I think but I'm sure you've heard this before?"

But I still find it funny that the same "type" of bloke popped up twice in two days--one, I couldn't wait to be rid of; the other, I would like to take travelling with me.

Another funny thing? He's actually from Fanny's home city. I didn't know they bred boys like this over there :)

list

In the few days since I left Berkeley to make my way down the Cali coast and across the South-west,

- a bloke has decapitated another on a Greyhound bus. But, thankfully (?), in Canada. Oh Canada!

- I have come to the realisation that I'm old: practically everyone at all the hostels I've stayed at is either a young 'un or people our parents' age who reckon they are young. I'm amused by the former (will update yous on the US girls/Italian guys interaction in a later post) and in awe of the latter. Perhaps, when Fanny and I reach our midlife crisis years, we'll hire a nifty little porche and whiz our way down California's route 1, stopping at hostels and ogling the young folks along the way.

- There were two German women in one of the hostels. At night, both of them stripped down to their knickers (thongs) and climbed into bed. As one of them was in the bunk above mine, I got to see far more of German flesh than I ever wanted to.

- I love the Thai folks: a grandfatherly type adopted me in San Luis and we had a great discussion about SciFi in which he introduced me to Somtow Suchiratkul. I'm currently reading one of his books and it's rather gloomy. Not quite the thing for a holiday. More on that later (though, yes, this is not book review blog! Yet ). Taking on Fanny's recco, I've also bought Wicked Lovely

- My luggage, including that awesome red bag I blogged about a few weeks ago, is lost. Amtrak sent it to Fort Lauderdade (spelling?) but it never got there. It never got to LA (where it was supposed to be). I've haunted the Amtrak office since I found out but to no avail. They say it will eventually turn up somewhere but where? In addition to that bag, it had two pairs of (new to me) shoes, both of which I rather loved; all my uni/work gear (expensive to replace) and, probably most relevant, my notes for the dissertation from the past few years and a few (expensive, annotated) text books.

- Nothing more to be said after that, really. I'm headed to the Grand Canyon tomorrow.

Like I'm 12 years old.

I can't help it.

Courting melanoma.

Today I went to the pool with the niece and nephew and think I am sunburned.

There are worse things to do with my life while on the job hunt.

Another one.

I swear this isn't a book review site (right, Bum? That's in the charter, right?). I just finished this book:



And I really enjoyed it. Everyone is unearthly beautiful and all that, but the characters are interesting. Generally flawed (with one noticeable exception) with (more or less) believable motivations. I was actually surprised right up until the denouement and with my jaded, I-saw-that-coming-a-mile-away attitude, that in itself was surprising. No spoilers, but there was a good tension going on and not quite sure which way the author was going to jump.

Was also impressed by the way the author described sex or sexuality or what's going on at the age of 16-20, when you're still and adolescent but dipping that toe into adult-ness (that's totally a word). It was handled with a certain discretion, without being coy, but there, no shying away from it. Plus I love tattooed boys burning with longing.

I am rabid to read the next one.


Not because I fell in love with any particular character or am invested in finding out the course of relationships, but because I am invested in this particular universe and want to see what's coming down the pike for this place and time (that takes place near Pittsburgh. Gotta love the hometown shout-out). What will happen next? I want to know.

Plus:

Dark Court King and tattoos and troubled bad girl?

Absolutely.

now this is fucked up

Fanny, if I ever end up with a bloke who, while I'm trying to pop out an alien who's been residing in my belly for 9 months, does this: “We had a 14-hour session, her and I did. I sat there with her, right between her legs. We got tribal on it. We danced to it. I was DJing this native Brazilian music," you have my full permission to pull a Christian Bale on me.

Please.

Full story of Mr. McConaughey's "dance through [his girlfriend's] labour" here.

fucked up

I read the news about Christian Bale (whom I loved in The Dark Knight but who, I reckon, has acted better in most of his other films) and my first reactions were:

1. It can't be!
2. after reading the story The mum and sister are (female) wankers
3. Really? I need to know more.

I wonder if I'd have felt the same if this were John Meyer or James Blunt. I'm not sure what it says about me that I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt to an (alledgedly) violent person. Though, in Britain, "assault" covers a wide range of actions including screaming, yelling and being pissed off (without any physical violence).

short hair woes

Lulled into a sense of unreality by my Thai-settled-in-Berkeley-for-21-years hairdresser's reminiscences of times gone by, I almost coloured my hair blue yesterday. Thankfully, better senses (or, more accurately, hunger pangs and a well-informed email from Fanny) prevailed.

However, I did end up with hair about 1.5 inches shorter than I wanted (and asked for). I wanted a Victoria Beckham and ended up with a mad pixie*.

Today, as I went to my usual coffee shop to get coffee (decked out in eyeliner, mascara and lippy), the coffee chap complimented the new hair and joked about it being very "rock star" (and I'm not a rock star type at all).


* I'm not implying that lady is a mad pixie at all. I, however, seem to look like what I'd imagine an irritated pixie to look like.

Dr. Horrible

Enjoy Neil Patrick Harris, Nathan Fillon and some redheaded woman in "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" here. All parts disappear tomorrow night so watch them now.

FYI (and spoilerish comment):
The feminist Interwebs have been frothing at the mouth about Penny's character development.

Bad things.

I moved recently. I hate moving. This is not an earth-shattering statement, a particularly unique one, or a particularly surprising one.

But.

Man, I fucking hate moving.

Bum will tell you I have a lot of stuff. A lot of stuff. A truly astounding amount of stuff I can't bear to be parted from and have managed to tuck into teensiest corners of my apartment. It's a talent. (Plus I truly believe tiny apartment elves come out while I sleep and make. more. stuff.)

So to get all this stuff home (yes, I'm temporarily living with my parents while crap gets sorted out. Not in the basement, and I have no game consoles or black lights.), I rented a U-Haul truck.So here's the thing. They don't really ask you any questions about what you will be doing with said truck. You make a reservation, you pay with a credit card, you drive away with a truck. For 24-hours. All yours to do with as you want. What if I wasn't moving? What if I wanted to do bad things in the back of the U-Haul? Huh? Like a roving meth lab? Or a roving, tiny brothel? Or a roving band of bandits wandering the Pennsylvania highways? What kinds of bad things?

Lots of bad things.

What would your bad thing be?

blogging bags and books

I went to shop for swimmers yesterday and, after visiting many many (okay, three. But it seemed like a lot) shops, I ended up with a bag instead.

Just like the one you see here, except mine is a darker red colour. Fanny'd tell you I'm really not a (posh) bag type of person and I admit I'm a bit scared of my new bag. I'll keep yous updated on its adventures.

Talking of adventures, I finished reading a book in which various totally sex-filled scenes occur, most of which are rather far-fetched.* But, loads of people getting it off in this book. To the extent that it was enough to make one want to go get a David Tennant of one's own (probably NSFW).




* In my admittedly non experiential basis--sex on a horse? Umm...no. I'm not that keen on horses to start off with and unless it's a gelding, wouldn't it get excited? (and that can't be good for all parties concerned).

why i like this part of the USA

I *just* had a realisation that I thought I'd share: so, I'm spending the summer on the Western coast of the USA. Northern California (San Francisco and the Bay Area to be precise). I was wandering around town today and thinking why I liked this area so much and reckoned I'd make a list:

1. It's like the best parts of my favourite cities--Sydney and Bangkok--came together and made a baby and this is it.

2. Any type of food/fruit you're after, you can get it somewhere. Often for really cheap. E.g., I had "ngah" (tried to find the English name to no avail but they are reddish fruit and have spine-like things on them) today and bought some "mongkut" (dark red/brown fruit with fleshy white stuff inside) and lychees to take to my dorm with me. In between typing, I'm scarfing down some of the fruit.

3. The shop right next door sells yakult and banana milk as well as Butter Coconut cookies, all staples from my childhood.

4. The many, many second-hand bookstores around the city.

5. The many, many excellent coffee and cakeshops around town.

6. The easy-going attitude towards clothing. I like Bangkok but one would never see locals (or, Asians in general) wearing short shorts or skirts over there. That was something farangs did. I recall being told at work that even non-heeled shoes weren't appropriate (as they weren't "feminine"). My response was that, unlike my boss (and my secretary who actually had a chauffeured Mercedes drive her about!), I had to take public transport in to work. Buses don't usually stop all the way over there--they slow down so you have to run and hope for the best, an activity not conducive to wearing heels. Anyway, clothing. So, here, I see lots of young women, including Asian women, wearing shorts. Not just skinny women but fairly chubby ones too. It's really nice, actually, since I reckon even in Washington (where I usually live), I don't see as many people--of all sizes and shapes-- just wandering around in casual, relaxing gear.

8. The many, many shops selling (mostly Asian-inspired) knickknacks, comic books (of all kinds, including some great small press ones I've found), Doctor Who novels and toys, and especially the people who discuss all these as though it was fairly normal (and not something only a tiny minority was keen on!)

(X-posted)

musings on Mamma Mia

I've got a four-day break from teaching so you'll probably be hearing a lot more of my (admittedly not too fascinating) views on life, love and liberty. Starting with this:



Until today, I wasn't sure who the groom was. When I found out it's one of my favourite new actors (in a purely aesthetic sense), Mr. Dominic Cooper, I *almost* regretted buying a ticket to The Dark Knight instead of this.

It's rather sad though that all the publicity has focused on the "oldies" (nothing wrong with that since that includes Mr. Firth and Mr. Brosnan and Ms. Streep). But, for those of us who appreciate a fit lad (and a gorgeous accent) of our own age, Mr. Cooper fits the bill brilliantly. Not to mention that he was one of my favourite boys in The History Boys

hell, boy!

Loved the imagery of Hellboy II. Was "meh" about the story itself.

Best bit? Hellboy and Abe singing along to Barry bloody Manilow and now the song's stuck in my head.



Other "cool" stuff: the steampunk characters, the troll market under Brooklyn bridge and the details of stuff going on around/behind the onscreen action.

Not so cool stuff: the villain.



Seriously, who decides to cast a former boy band singer as an evil mastermind? He never had a chance, really.

nostalgia

Sitting in a crowded cinema, waiting for Hellboy II (more on that later) to show, I saw the preview to Mamma Mia and realised I'd love to have been able to see it with my Mum. Some of my earliest memories are of my Mum having the radio on, with ABBA playing, as she puttered around the house, waiting for my Dad to get back from uni.

Seeing this at a popular web site and wishing I'd seen it a few days earlier so I could have put my name in the hat. My aunt (who is a voracious reader--not just romances but everything) first gave me Devil's Cub to read when I was a tween. I can still recall how it ends, though I've not revisited it since I entered my teens. I recall liking how the heroine gets things done without waiting to whinge about stuff. During my undergrad years in far off Northern Queensland and when I had my first long-term job and was living (alone) in Thailand, I had Black Sheep and Venetia with me, both of which were excellent beach (and comfort) reads and reminded me of home.

still.

I wonder if I should go buy the new Entertainment Weekly after all? I mean, I'm still not over the Oliver Wood ("fucking hot" as an off blog convo put it)/Cedric Diggory mixup and I've never read any of Stephani Meyer's books (quite possibly a bit too emo, even for me) but vampires. And, perhaps, they'll recap the series so I won't have to go find/read any of the books after all.

In other vampire/vampiric news, Fanny sent me this a while back and I meant to share it with the rest of yous.

The things they do for television these days...

Vindicated.

See?  Extreme pastiness.

Vampires, ahoy!

Following on from Fanny's previous post, when she first mentioned that the actor who played Cedric Diggory was to play a vampire, my thoughts were on this chap.

Actually, until about 5 minutes ago when I read Fanny's post, I was still imagining that chap as a vampire. And loving it.

Now that I've sorted out Cedric Diggory (and not lovely Scottish-accented Oliver Wood) in my head, I'm not half as keen.

Fangs.

I was never a huge fan of Cedric Diggory. In the book or the movie.

I mean, he's, like, okay and all. He's an archetype, a placeholder, the smart, talented, sensitive, handsome, kind jock you wish to meet (or I wish to meet. Though I would probably get annoyed with how perfect and good he is and then call him a pansy).

And I was kind of indifferent to the actor playing him in the movie. Except I didn't think he was that hot.

And now he's playing a vampire.

And I am weirdly, bizarrely intrigued (despite the really bad pastiness the vampires have going on. Really, really bad).

It may be a case of two wrongs equalling a right. As so:

A = Robert Pattinson, who I'm largely indifferent to and don't find that good looking
B = The Stephenie Meyer Twilight series that I am also largely indifferent to, given my distaste for angst-y vampires and the women who love them (Bum). Though the books have pretty covers.

Therefore: Indifference A + Indifference B = Embarrassing Interest C

Though this is all moderated by (Love for Kristin Stewart)X.

unsurprised

Your result for The Imaginary-Job Employment Test...

The Scary but Inept Government Agent!

No, you're not a Man in Black. Although that would be seriously cool. Why didn't we think to have a man in black result on this test? Dang it!

Anyway, no, your low Skill and Morality and moderate Humor make you well-suited to a life of getting outwitted. You should dress in dark suits, wear opaque sunglasses, and never-- NEVER hit what you're shooting at.

We can't stress this enough. When renegade heroes come at you-- and they will-- you let them beat you up. You miss them at point-blank range. Whatever it takes so that you look foolish and they look cool.

It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it. But hey, at least it's anonymous and thankless, so it's probably not much different than any corporate job you could get...

Take The Imaginary-Job Employment Test at HelloQuizzy

Another paranormal.

So I'm currently reading this:

I've generally been entertained by the series. Even if they are vampires. So far I'm a few chapters into it.

This latest one has the MainWoman as Chinese. Taiwanese, if you want to get technical. And one part of me goes squueeeeee...There my bitches at! The other part of me goes uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh. Danger, danger, danger. Because while I agree with Bum in her argument about the convolutions romance writers go through to place Americans in stories where other peoples would work (probably better, more interestingly {is that a word? Is that word that should be used?}), I always have this dual reaction when there are Asian characters.

So it was rather providential when I read this from Karen from Karen Knows Best:

See, I have realized that I tend to avoid books wherein any of the main characters are Latino, particularly Mexican. Ninety nine times out of a hundred, I can’t buy the cultural makeup the writer is laying down for those characters. More than once I’ve been overheard saying, “Cojones, dammit, not cajones!!!” or “hispanos are human beings, not a different species!”

Which is funny, because what I sometimes take to be stereotypical representation may in reality come from the author’s life expereince. Case in point: Karen Templeton’s character Félix in Baby I’m Yours. I had trouble with him because I thought he was a stereotypical Latino man based on things like George López or what have you. Turns out Ms Templeton based Félix on a number of actual people she knows in New Mexico where she lives.

Whodathunkit?

So am I being racist in reverse? Am I actually assuming—with all the attendant asshattery—that no one can properly write Mexican or Latino characters that I can relate to?

Which is maybe...perhaps...how I feel about non-Asians writing about Asians. Like I think that we're a mystical people who others just can't get, rather than...well, mostly like everyone else and one doesn't need to belong to the club to write about the members.

I don't know.

I want to see more Asians, more minorities in romance (where they are not the mystical or quirky or whatever sidekick, and really just a big offensive cardboard cutout of stereotypes. I'm looking at you, Iris Johanson, Melanie George and others I will remember later). However, I will fall into the trap of looking for errors, how the author gets it wrong.

Contrary? You betcha.

voyeur

While having dinner at an excellent Thai restaurant on 4 July (and practicing my Thai language skills while I was at it. The owner was hugely impressed but I fear that may have been more due to the fact that I asked for this duck thing that I've been craving for ages and apparently it's not something most people at that place ask for. I'll always be known as the peht girl or duck girl, as it were), I realised I was the only person apart from a mid-50's-ish couple sat fairly close to me.

Two things about empty restaurants:
1. Sound carries
2. Can't avoid listening in, really.

Turns out Man and Woman had met on BigOnlineDatingSite (BODS!). They had had a "connection" (Woman's terms) and this was their first in-person date. They liked travelling and food (duh!) but the woman ordered a "mild very mild pad thai". Really, how can you have mild pad thai? Pad thai is mild enough to begin with. Anyway, the man asked for and went with the waitperson's recommendations. Nicely done, that.

As Fanny would tell you, I'm a very slow eater. During that time, I found out more about those two than I ever needed to know. It's good (or scary) to realise, though, that age doesn't make the dating process any easier or less awkward (especially if, like me, you are trying to do your best not to listen in while obviously being perfectly situated to do so)

back with a book.

I've realised that June was a rather lean month for Fanny and I. Not "lean" in the sense that we did anything (well, not sure about Fanny so let's talk about me for now)...I did anything that would make me lean (unless we are talking of the Tower of Pisa variety). Lean in the sense that blog posts were few and far between. But, fear not, we are back and posting and ready to regale yous with reams (bits? bytes?) of information that we feel is in your best interest to know.

Starting with this book: Fanny recommended the book to me and I went all the way to San Francisco (a rather expensive proposition, one which costs about as much, if not more, than buying a new paperback) to buy it and have just started reading it. However, I feel a bit like how historians/experts on X/whatnot might feel upon reading that the MainGuy first saw the MainWoman at the "train station in Kathmandu [Nepal]". A bit of research (Googling? Chatting up your local Nepali?) would have made it very clear that Kathmandu doesn't have a train station. In fact, Nepal doesn't have an (operational) railway at all.

I guess that's why I avoid political thrillers (especially nothing on terrorism, thank you) and stick to SFF. World-building, if done well, can't really go wrong. Real world geography can be nigglingly off.

Though now I'm reading about motorcycles in the Himalayas, so, perhaps, I should just take this as SFF as well and enjoy it that way. It is enjoyable so far.

I'll update yous when I've finished.

Update: Not much more on Nepal though the train trip is mentioned again. I liked it, overall, though I'm looking forward to the resolution.

One quibble. There was pretty much no reason to make MainWoman who she was i.e. some mountaineering, scary-dad-having woman from America. She could (and it'd have been lovely if she had been) have been Mingma's granddaughter or even the Rom girl (though a bit older, of course). This odd desire of authors to organise things so that a random American is doing things in "exotic" parts of the world becomes rather grating at times. It's not as if being American was necessary to this story in any way. Mingma's granddaughter would have been able to do everything this woman did--climb mountains, trek, clean up wounds, shag MainGuy, etc. Well, maybe not fly a plane but I'm sure that could have been easily sorted with a sentence like this: "Pemba took a one-year flying course in Kathmandu since she loved the mountains and wanted to be as close to them as possible" (okay, I'm not a writer. But you get my point). Most people there speak English fairly well and I'm sure the Living-in-Sedona part could also have been fudged easily enough. But, no, we needed some American to be conveniently wandering about so MainGuy could find her, bed her and get her into trouble.

Oh The Pretty!!!

No need for words (watch it all the way through--you'll thank me for it):

Not a surprise

Since there's been little Geek blogging recently and because I spent much of this afternoon (first sunny day in Berkeley since I got here!) inside a dark bookstore, chatting with the store guy about the latest series of Doctor Who

Your result for The What Middle Earth race do you belong to Test...

Nazgûl

You scored average in size, low in morality, high in aggression and high in intelligence, which are all qualities that you seem to share with the Black Riders of Middle Earth. Oh, and you're most likely male. Once great kings of men, Sauron seduced them through avarice and they're now slaves to his will. Which is not to say that YOU are a slave to someones will but hey, it could happen. Just be extra careful if you meet someone on the street that seems extra charming and offers you a trinket that he says will make you really powerful, okay?

FYI, your polar opposite is the Ent.

Take The What Middle Earth race do you belong to Test at HelloQuizzy

job talk

As part of my job, I had to attend a BBQ today, one where parents and children hung out and chatted with staff/faculty (I'm "faculty").

One woman, whose kid is in my class, was talking to me about Berkeley and calling me "Mrs. Bum" (I was wearing a name tag that clearly specified "Ms Bum"). After a few times of being called Mrs. Bum, I indicated my tag and said, "Not Mrs, just Ms".

The lady, very nicely, said, "Don't worry dear. There's still time".

I'm amused that "Ms." now seems to have the same connotations as "Miss" used to...or, perhaps, this is a one-off.

dropping by to say Hi!

Fear not, dear readers, I've not abandoned yous. I have loads to say including my new and beloved purchase of a pair of gold, yes gold sandals AND my current inexplicably bruised body. It's so bad that a stranger today stopped me and asked if I were okay...on the streets! Oh, Berkeley :-)

But, not right now. Right now, I've got to go sort out some late-night eating options--burgers? naan and curry? hot dogs? or just beer (does beer count as food?) and try find a 24-hour pharmacy to get some liniment and bandaids for my wounds/bruises.

In the meantime, enjoy the pretty pretty Mr. A.

I know!

Affirmation.

So I have a shriveled, black heart, right? I'm pretty okay with that, especially after this week. This week sucked ass.

One of the more bizarre incidents was being stopped in the parking garage at work by a strangely belligerent and yet weepy young woman. She stopped one of the co-workers and I and asked if we had a cell phone. As I was standing around with my cell phone in my hand, I couldn't quite lie. Co-Worker is a Luddite and has no such technology (which is a pain in the ass when you want to call him and complain about sucky-ass things). So Strangely Belligerent Yet Weepy Stranger kind of chased Co-Worker off, saying her problem was too embarrassing and she'd like to make the call in private, but apparently was okay with me standing there. Why wasn't she scared off by the shriveled, black heart? Other people are. Co-Worker was very supportive and kind of Should I leave? Should I call the police? Do you have pepper spray? You realize you're being kind of stupid, right? But, whatever, I could totally take Strangely Belligerent Yet Weepy Stranger in a death match. Hah.

I ended up standing around in that garage for a good 10-15 minutes as she called about ten phone numbers trying to get help as her embarrassing problem was that her car broke down somewhere on the highway, she used up all her money trying to make phone calls, and was now stranded 50 miles from home in a crappy neighborhood. Allegedly. And crying all over my phone. My beeeyoooteefull phone.

I ended up making an excuse (because I felt REALLY uncomfortable at this point), and giving her a dollar in quarters, which was honestly all the cash I had on me. Stranger still, instead of going to the security desk or looking for a pay phone, she walked up to the third floor of the parking garage, where there are no phones, just a few cars. Uh?

This didn't really impact me, just one of those got caught in an uncomfortable situation, but no foul to me, and maybe I helped out someone just a little.

Which brings me to today. I parked on a busy street, trying to get to the Chinese grocery. Stupid Pittsburgh parking meters only take quarters. Guess what I was out of? But just needed a few things, was going to chance it, danger freak that I am. Walked a little ways down the street, and saw the meter maid's car, said shit ever so quietly and reversed my direction. A very nice man in a blue shirt, walking now in the same direction as me said "Quarters?," reached into his pocket and gave me two quarters, refusing to be repaid, without even breaking his stride.

I love this man. After this sucky-ass week (no, really! I have a degree in English Literature!), proof that it all works out, that what you get is what you put in and sometimes people are just kind for no reason at all, that was good.

My shriveled black heart warmed just a little.

Please don't vomit now.

Life summary.

Woe.

Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

I hate the Red Wings.

Very Late Review - Harold and Kumar Escape Guantanamo Bay

Bum asked me to blog about this a while back. I only recently actually made it to the theater, as movie-watching seems to have fallen off my things to do, which is sad. Especially sad since I only see really bad movies when I do go (this weekend I saw Baby Mama. Enough said?).

I have been looking forward to the Harold & Kumar sequel for a very long time. I loved, loved, loved the first one. Thought it was so very funny, so very spot on with racial commentary in contemporary US culture. Also: someone has sex with a giant bag of weed. How does one not love it?

So...big expectations, but prepared to love, even if not so good. Like the way you kind of like the idiot brother of someone you really love. They share the same genes, so there's something there, right?


Except...oh, this was disappointing. It felt like the creators/directors/writers/whoever got a pile of money based on the cult status of the original and were determined to use every last dollar of that, to utterly shoot their load, Michael Bay-style, rather than sticking with what worked in the first one.

The White Castle one was, at its heart, kind of a sweet story about two friends on a pretty mundane adventure who get caught up in these absurd moments. And a lot of the charm was that they were so very different, but really got each other, had a backstory and a tolerance for each other's bullshit. My brain's not working very well, but it's kind of like the relationship in Good Will Hunting between Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. The background relationship between the two leads is an integral part of the story.

Guantanamo Bay...well, that's like John Candy and Steve Martin in Planes, Trains and Automobiles. They don't respect each other much, and like each other even less. It seems like Harold and Kumar are two people just kind of stuck together on this wacky, wacky adventure. It's all absurdist, there's nothing much relatable, because while I have been on road-trips to find the perfect food, I do not have friends who have bottom-less parties. Or at least friends who invite me to bottom-less parties. Thank you, friends.

There are funny moments in this film. There are. But there's no replacing the original.

However, Neil Patrick Harris rocks the house.

me = grumpy old woman

I was an at Important Academic Event today and something happened that rather annoyed me. So, as is usual, I'm laying it out here.

It was a seminar-type situation where one person was presenting. There were a couple of professors and junior scholars, including a good friend of the presenter. When it came to Q&A, the Good Friend kept on finishing the presenter's lines/arguments and jumping in when she (presenter) was asked a challenging question or asked to follow up/explain.

It got to the point that the presenter looked at Good Friend, GF jumped in and voila! Later, GF was making a lot of comments about how "tough" the presenter had had it and how the Q&A was unfair.

I was wondering what academics or academics-in-training would make of this? I found it insulting but then I'm the sort to prefer making an arse out of myself solo (and have a regrettable tendency to become highly sarcastic when publicly-challenged/pushed). But, still, I can understand a supervisor/advisor helping out if/when their student is under fire* but a Friend? Especially one who jumped in without the presenter actually being in trouble?



* I'd like to make it clear, though, the general view was the the Presenter was not under fire and the questions, while wankerish in their repetition, were straightforward ones, asking for clarification.

Interlude.

"Why, hello there, Fanny. Why don't you come on up?"


(Clive Owen, Rome, May 27. Image via Bauer-Griffin via Jezebel.]

moving on

Earlier this weekend I was thinking deep profound thoughts about friends and friendship. I realised that the friends I hang out with these days do rather different things to those I used to hang out with a year or two ago. It's as though I've reverted to my (usual) self--my time at uni and work overseas--a time before I came to the USA. A time when I refused to set foot in anything resembling a "club" or a "lounge", a time when I hung out watching football (and other sports) in dark, seedy pubs at odd hours of the day, a time when I hung out with people who have "game days/nights" (with the "game" in question being board games or video games), a time when I go watch films and plays with people (and end up in a pub after, discussing those).

I also realised that I have two groups of friends: one, people I keep in touch with via email (or, now, through Facebook) and whom I've known for over a decade and who seem to visit me at odd times and places (I had a vistor last weekend, a friend I'd not seen in nearly 4 years). The other group is friends I've just recently acquired--most of them in the past year. Sadly enough, apart from Fanny*, most of my friends from the years-in-between seem to have dropped out of touch and/or are living elsewhere.

I wonder if that means I've somehow become stable and set in this place where everyone is transient? I wonder if that means I should look into moving on elsewhere?

* Fanny doesn't get the luxury of not being in touch since, apart from us here, I also invite myself to her place every once in a while. Next month, for instance.

hot.

The previous post was the 100th for Fanny and I, btw. I didn't realise till just now. If I (we) had, I (we) might have put forth something profound and thought-provoking. Or so I tell myself.

In the meantime, it's been over 85 degrees (Fahrenheit, of course) here and I've wandered down to the stadium to watch my first DC United match this season.

Where I saw this (see right). Where had he been in my past few visits to RFK stadium, I wonder?

The Road

I, like many others, was one of the people who didn't believe Viggo would make a good Aragorn. I preferred Sean Bean, just because I'd seen his work before and, hey, Sean Bean! and yet was a Viggo-fan by the end of LOTR.

What extent of a fan, yous ask? Well, I've watched Hidalgo more than once.

So, I'm rather excited about The Road (pic above). I liked the book though I'm curious as to how things will change in the film.

Now

Now, I've been thinking I really should have woken up earlier to work on my thesis.

Now, I've been thinking that having a "late lunch" shouldn't mean eating your first meal of the day at 325pm.

Now, I've been thinking it would be nice if Fanny were here in my town so I could drag her to watch a film/hang out and do something this evening.

Now, I've been thinking the day has turned out lovely (bright sunshine, a cool breeze) and I'm sat indoors writing on the computer.

Now, I've been thinking I should have accepted the BBQ invite I got a few hours back (instead of the dinner invite I ended up deciding on)

Now, I've been thinking that three years is too long not to see my parents.

Now, I've been thinking I should really get off my arse and start doing some daily exercise (and not just lift pint glasses as I watch soccer).

Now, I've been thinking I should confess I voted for American Idol on Tuesday.

Now, I've been thinking this list is getting too bloody long and yet I have lots of things I could add to it.

But not now.

Now, I reckon I'll go sit outside in the backyard for a few moments and will do the daily crossword.

Lately.

I've had this recurring thought. I'm not sure I'm meant for this life.

This isn't a mid-life crisis or existential crisis or dissatisfaction with what I've got going on. I'm quite satisfied with what I've got going on, more or less. It's not angst-driven.

It's more like thinking that if I didn't have these parents, if I hadn't made these decisions, I would be an entirely different person. I would be a tattooed up baker, in a large city who wore matte red lipstick everyday and had blunt cut bangs. I would be a jeweler at the sea, with long skirts, dirty feet and unwashed, ass-length hair in messy braids. I would be a writer in a garret, thriftstore chic and smoking foreign cigarettes. I would be someone else.

If I had more courage, more conviction, would I be more comfortable in my skin? Happier? Thinking that if I had different parents, made different decisions I would be the therapist with shiny lipgloss, many shoes and many cashmere cardigans?

I don't know. It's like peering into the looking glass, seeing something that was/is possible if not for the decisions made I didn't even know I was making. Possibilities out there that may not be better possibilities that what I have now, but different ones all the same. It's a disconcerting feeling, deep in my belly, that those possibilities are out there and I would be someone else.

I think I would like to know her. She sounds like fun.

(Apologies for the dramatic use of italics. That's how it sounds in my mind.)

World domination...

...one Asian girl* at a time.

Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism Minister Tetsuzo Fuyushiba, center, poses with South Korean singer Younha and kimono-clad Hello Kitty holding certificates they received at his office in Tokyo, Monday, May 19, 2008. THE ASSOCIATED PRESS/Koji Sasahara

Obviously, we* are all very excited.

*Us Asian girls (women?), don't you know.

(almost) friday frivolity: no more football

So, the English Premiership season is over. Liverpool, as always, didn't challenge for the title, lost in the semis of the Champions League and are in the midst of uncertainty about what's happening with their owners (who are fighting among themselves).

But, there's hope. Here's Xabi Alonso giving his opinion on quite a few things. I love the furrowed brow look and the confusion over "mushy peas or gravy"

Life decisions.

I love this article.

I wanted to be Indiana Jones. I realize now that I am not terribly original.

Indy's main value in the academic world has been as an inspiration to aspiring archaeologists, said Zimansky, who noticed a spike in new students in the early 1990s while teaching at Boston University.

"If you asked these people why they were becoming archaeologists, it always starts off with Indiana Jones. It actually converted a number of people. They got their initial interest in archaeology from Indiana Jones," Zimansky said.

But, you know, I had to learn the hard way. I had to go and get the degree.

The reality of archaeological field work is not a lone hero dashing into hidden chambers with a bullwhip and a pistol and coming away with a priceless relic. It's large groups of academics and students painstakingly sifting through grids to retrieve artifacts as mundane as pottery fragments.

I had to sit for 8-10 hours a day, soaking, cleaning, brushing, cataloging tiniest bits of flotsam, because maybe! Just maybe! That bit of flotsam was a link to the Lower XiaJiaDian, and would tell us about these people, who were not unlike you and me. That little bit of pottery would lead the way to Important! Discoveries! To! Mankind! So I better handle it carefully and who cares if my hands were sunk in muddy water so much, they stopped wrinkling up? I was making Important! Discoveries!

Except my mind kind of went numb. The red-tape and rigmarole and ass-kissing and permits and politesse was just crushing the life out my dreams.

So I went away and became something else and have learned to like it. With no where near the fervency and love and zeal as I did for archaeology, but that's okay. I can still have uncrushed dreams.

But sometimes I would really like to wear a fedora and sit with my hands in muddy water for hours at a time, handling jumbled pieces from a very long time ago.

mid-week mmm

Just came back from seeing Redbelt. Loved it-cheesiness and all. Especially loved how many times Mr. Ejiofor managed to take his top off.

FYI: Nicked the "midweek mmm" idea from here.

best(est) thing ever

aka "Vampires are made of win"

So much so that a famous professorial type has noticed the trend in vampire-ish books and has blogged about it.

Of course, most of the commenters seem like pretentious wankers (FYI, people, vampires have been around forever. Hee. See? vampires! forever!!) and slag off vampire-ish books as though there were no variety among them.

I do like these comments though:

Comment 1: "I live in Portland, Oregon and recently overheard two Powell's employees discussing this phenomenon. One was explaining to his new-hire charge that "Supernatural Romance" is the largest growing, hottest selling category in fiction right now, a subgenre he described as "women committing every imaginable act of lust and perversion with vampires, werewolves, demons, Lovecraftian tentacled rape gods, basically anything you can imagine as long as it's not a normal human man."

(another person responds):"So, kind of like anime, then?"

Yay person no. 2! I like how science-y types seem to reckon anime and suchlike (comics, graphic novels) are oh-so-cool while, at the same time, being pretentious twats about this...the point being, you can find dreadfully-written books in any shape/style/genre.

Friday Frivolity: Google love.

These make me giggle. And waste time. Two very excellent things, and like a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, even better together.

Type in the terms in the Google search box, hit "I'm Feeling Lucky."

• google pirate
• google ninja
• google light
  
• elgoog
• google goth
  
• google emo (This one is for the Bum.)
• google black
• google fudd
• google pig latin
• google 1337
• google linux
• google redneck
• google klingon
• google easter egg
  
• google chuck norris

There are some others of questionable taste. Will not add those here. No Hello Kitty one yet.

Yet.

Best. Thing. Ever.

Everyone knows I love The Hills, right? I've moved past my secret shame, my self-mocking shame, my cultural zeitgeist shame, and right into whole-hearted, affectionate love. Don't judge me.

So tonight was the finale. Which is a bizarre concept because who has finales of lives? Also, who makes such poor decisions in their lives?

Anyway.

There was a commercial for this (from Broadcasting & Cable):

MTV plans Exiled!, an eight-episode documentary series that will ship the mini-divas from its Super Sweet 16 series to indigenous tribes in far-off lands like Africa and Antarctica for the chance -- their parents hope -- of gaining an altered world view.

Basically, this seems like a big Fuck you, Princess.

I cannot wait. (Squueeeeeeee)

My fervent wish is that this will maybe be the beginning of an antidote to the materialistic, fame-mongering, elitist, unexamined life attitude that's so disturbingly pervasive (and please don't take this as proselytizing. Remember: I adore The Hills).

My dread is that this project will make these people look like jack-asses who manage to offend people around the world and objectify other world cultures into sideshows.

I live in hope.

food blogging

Participated in the first of what is going to be a recurring series of brunches today. The plan (such as there is) being that we all meet every couple of weeks, bring food/drinks and eat/drink our way through the day.

Today's food* consisted of potato and egg (do all of them have eggs? is that redundant?) frittata; spinach (Fanny would have approved ), cheese and eggs casserole thingy; kielbasa (Polish sausage thingy); an extremely yummy french toast (with raisins and berries); potato salad; bagels, cream cheese, salmon; homemade bread(s); cookies; various fruit dishes; homemade chocolate cookies; 4 bottles of champagnes (with associated fixings for mimosas and bellinis); vodka (with fixings for Bloody Mary); daiquiri (with fresh strawberries).

We sat around, ate and drank and talked about jobs, schooling, punctuation, films, media, and just general silliness. An excellent time was had by all.

Btw, no prizes for guessing my contribution to this endeavour**. In the future, though, I plan to make the only brekkie dish I do know how to make: pikelets.

I'll put up pictures if I can snag them off one of the others.


* I apologise here for my lack of knowledge of food names/compositions.
** Alcohol, of course.

news you all should know

Finished grading. Went to catch up with news and found the BBC's "most read" story was this:

"Great tits cope well with warming"

Indeed.

Popeye.

I have recently become obsessed with spinach. I'm trying to find ways to stuff pounds of it into my body and I'm not sure why. Everything is better with spinach! Soup? Dump some spinach in! Eating pasta? Why, a little green would perk that right up! Any kind of meat? A bed of spinach would be so decorative!

Fascinated by the way it wilts down into itty-bitty nothingness. Think it's fantastic that I can buy a pound of it fresh and be perfectly comfortable eating they whole pound cooked. Find it fabulous that I can pretend I'm being terribly, terribly healthy by stuffing mass quantities of it down my throat.

Perhaps I have an iron deficiency. Which means I should go eat more spinach!

It started out with this lovely creamed spinach recipe from Ree the Pioneer Woman. It's completely snowballed from there.

Do you think this counteracts the Cheet-o addiction?

i kicked the cobblestones today...

...22,000 dead in a land far away
It seemed as though the world was going astray
So what do I do?
Walk around without a shoe*

And here's what happened:

I walked around barefoot**
I did walk barefoot
I’m sorry but it’s true

I walked around barefoot
Oh yes, I walked around barefoot
I didn’t put on any shoes

I walked around barefoot
On the street, on the floor,
On a carpet near the door
It was gross, it was neat
I was doing it with bare feet

I walked the streets without shoes
Oh yes, that's big news
While yous are drinking tonic and gin
I did this thing that was made of win?

I said I was walking with feet unshod
On the bus, on the metro, on the way over to uni
People stood, people stared
People thought I was a bit loony

Naked feet, naked soles
Traipsing up and down the ‘ments
Keep eyes down, keep them there
Otherwise beware

But, yes!
I walked around barefoot all day
No shoes, no sandals, that was my way
It was fun, it was odd
To see my feet, see them unshod

On the road, on the stairs,
Everywhere (if you care)
It was warm, there was no harm
On the grass, in the lift
While reading Jon Swift
In the cafe, on my trip
I had no flops, nor a flip

* Apologies to the Beatles
** Apologies to Sarah Silverman/Matt Damon


X-posted

Slow down.

You move too fast
Got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feeling groovy

I am suspecting, in my incredibly profound way, that Bum and I need to kick down the cobblestones some more. What do people do to kick down the cobblestones, let alone feel groovy?

Busy, busy, busy.

All the time busy.

When did it become like this? When did we not have deadlines and looming obligations and stuff to do right now? I think I will blame academia.

It makes it easier for me, instead of looking to the culprit of poor time management and inability to say no. I have not, in almost a year, been able to carve out the time to visit Bum in the magical land of cherry blossoms and grotty, yummy Thai restaurants. There's something wrong with that.

But what can I say? The Hills is on.

next stop: cover of Vogue

Fanny's inspired me to do some non-fluffy blogging. Hopefully. But not now. Not this week when I have over 30 twenty-page papers to grade by Friday and a journal issue to finish editing (due to publishers' by next week, thanks) and a chapter to finish revising (due to advisor also by next week).

So what do I do when not wondering whether a quick trip to the local cave to be a hermit might not be a bad idea after all? I do online tests. I'm actually rather obsessed by online tests. I take them wherever and whenever I can. And, sometimes, they turn out funny.

Fanny will prob laugh her fanny off at this (I promise I didn't actually lie about any of the answers. I think the test is broken):

Catwalk God(ess) 64% Flamboyance, 67% Originality, 52% Deliberateness, 59% Sexiness

[Flamboyant Original Deliberate Sexy] You know fashion inside out but you're far from being its slave. To you fashion is what you decide to wear. You've got great, if unconventional, taste and plenty of courage to put your ideas into practice, which inspires admiration; but few have guts to copycat you. I suppose it doesn't worry you because to you originality counts. You are self-confident, perhaps even arrogant, and consider a day wasted when no one gives you an interested or shocked look. Great job. The opposite style from yours is Librarian [Tasteful Conventional Random Prissy]. All the categories: Librarian Sporty Hottie Office Master Uptown Girl/ Boy Brainy Student Movie Star Fashionista Glamorous Soul Fashion Enemy Bar Cruiser Kid Next Door Sex Bomb Hippie Kid Fashion Rebel Fashion Artist Catwalk God(ess)

This test tracked 4 variables. How the score compared to the other people's:

	Higher than 87% on Flamboyance
	Higher than 85% on Originality
	Higher than 30% on Deliberateness
	Higher than 67% on Sexiness

Link: The Fashion Style Test written by mari-e on Ok Cupid View My Profile(mari-e)