wednesday, 11 october, 2000
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Reading: The Mists of Avalon.
Watching: A little bit of the debates (on PBS, because they have the least amount of loud graphics on the screen). I missed the first one because of the marathon birth control book club. (Confidential to you-know-who: I learned nothing that would be helpful to you except that it is possible for men to be allergic to the spermicide in sponges, so keep that in mind. :) I'm also waiting for someone to use the phrase "master debator," which some guy from Newsweek did the morning after the last one. Must have been a dare. I mean, really... how else could you say that with a straight face? Wearing: Perhaps the oldest piece of clothing I own, a KU t-shirt with "Country Club Week 1990" as the logo. "Country Club Week" used to refer to the week before classes start, when people were moving on campus, and all the activities that take place. My freshman year, the fall of 1989, they changed it to "Hawk Week" because they thought "Country Club Week" was too elitist, but all the student t-shirt makers kept calling it that. Baking: Those Pillsbury slice-and-bake cookies with pumpkin designs in them. I told you I was craving them. I'm going to take them into work tomorrow, so maybe the pregnant girl will be nice to me. We're also getting two new callers, which will make me feel less bad when I quit, which I'm currently plotting how to do. Giggling: At my cat. She rarely does giggle-worthy things, but last night, I went in to my bedroom and saw the familiar lump under my down comforter. However, when I slid my hand under the comforter to pet her, I discovered that she was not under the comforter, she was in it. There are a couple of buttons missing at the end of the duvet cover, and she had climbed in between the cover and comforter. Very clever, but I have my doubts about whether she would have figured out how to get out. Contemplating: JournalCon, and how I wish I could have been there. Had this been a year ago, I would have just had Corina and Wes stop at Exit 16 of the Pennsylvania turnpike and pick me up. (Incidentally, Wes' name links to his first entry about JournalCon, which is the funniest thing I've read in a long time.)
Link of the Day:
One of your better weblogs. Mine just happens to be
at the top of the journal list and I have thus
gotten about seventeen thousand hits from it, so I thought I would
return the favor.
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Well, the time has come, and I'm in a pre-mourning period. For my hair. In December of 1997, I got it cut to shoulder length during a severe attack of exam anxiety. Then, in 1999, my mother told me I couldn't come to Easter dinner unless I got it trimmed, and I ended up going to my aunt's stylist in Smallville the Saturday before. And that's been it. The last time I cut my bangs was about a year ago, so they're now almost at my chin, and the rest of my hair hangs down to somewhere between my middle and lower back. I hate puns, but I am very attached to my hair. If I had any kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder, it would be playing with my hair. I'm a die-hard twirler. I braid, big ones, little ones. There is no way I would have survived studying for the bar if I hadn't had my hair to keep my hands busy. (Well, I might have, but I would have gained even more weight than I did already.) But it has also started to bug me a little. If I don't wrap it up in a scrunchy before I go to sleep, I always have to untangle myself when I wake up. It takes forever to dry, even with my superfast hair dryer. And it doesn't look as good as I would like it to in order to have it be considered "professional" hair, and I do need that. So, I'm off to have it cut, on Saturday morning. And the only thing that makes me feel better about getting it chopped is the fact that I am donating my hair to a charity called Locks of Love, which makes wigs for kids with alopecia, this random disease where all your hair falls out like overnight and it never grows back. However, they will only accept donations of ten inches or more, so I'm getting nearly half my hair cut off. (It will still come to my shoulders, but still.) I was kind of psyched for a while, because on the website, they list salons that will cut your hair for free if you're donating it. So I called the only salon listed for Kansas City, and they said sure, they'll cut it for free, but it's $19.00 to have it styled. Well. I could cut it off myself for free, for crying out loud. But $19.00 is still kind of a deal at a real salon, so I'm going anyway.
Okay, I am not a particularly partisan person, I'm really not. I have voted Democrat in my first two presidential elections, and I will vote Democrat in my third, but I have voted Republican in other elections (for PA governor Tom Ridge) and I would not rule it out, depending on the candidates and their positions. Admittedly, Tom Ridge is something of a renegade Republican because he is pro-choice, and it would take a lot for me to vote for a candidate who was anti-choice. Particularly in this election, because the next president could name up to four justices for the Supreme Court, and Roe v. Wade could be in serious trouble. But that's not what I wanted to say. What I'm saying is that in this debate, every time they show Dubyuh listening to Al Gore, he looks like he's trying to figure out what all the big words mean. There's always a kernel of truth behind every rumor. That's all I'm saying.
So I got my certificate of admission to practice law in front of the Supreme Court of Missouri, and I decided to take up my parents on their final graduation present, which was getting that and my diploma framed. I went to the frame store, and it wasn't until the nice frame lady unrolled both my diploma and my certificate that I realized the problem. It's not a big problem, but in my little world, it's a problem. The certificate is white. My diploma is beige. I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, anal retentive, but I do have a very slight tendency toward consistency. I went into the frame store planning to get the same matting, the same frame, the same everything, so they'll look nice next to each other. Fortunately, the frame lady totally helped me out, picking two mattings for the certificate and three mattings for the diploma, all of which lead to being able to use the same kind of frame. And I guess I never thought about the fact that I've never had anything framed before, but I was kind of shocked at just how much of a gift this is. They are going to be beautiful, though. Now, if I can just find an office in which to hang them.
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