Getting Inspired for 2008

<----- That's a vintage Ms Magazine cover touting Wonder Woman for Prez in July 1972. We've come a long way baby ladies, but we're not there yet.

How exciting and inspiring would it be if Rodham-Clinton were elected in two years or if, as early as two weeks from now, Pelosi were third-in-line to the Presidency of the USA... [daydream]

While on the topic--i really liked what i've seen of Maryann Breschard's docu, Running in High Heels, which focuses on the political campaign of a recent college grad as she she runs for the state Senate. It also features a range of commentators including left-winger Heidi Hartmann, who runs the Institute for Women's Policy Research and the infamous right-winger Phyllis Schlafly of the Eagle Forum.

In the New York area, Barnard, CUNY, and Fordham have copies of the DVD. If you've seen it in its entirety, please do cue me.



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“Have A Nice Say”

Was emblazoned on a T-shirt that Big A had in his closet.

And I was coolly persuading him to give it away. Not that it was horrible or anything, it was just another ordinary tee--but somehow, in my dream, i had intuited that it was a gift from someone in his 'Past'.

As I awoke, my dream deciphered itself in my head. Big A and his college g/f have remained good friends since they broke up like ten years ago. And the slogan in my dream is a play on her name, which features the letters “A,” “N,” “I,” “S,” and “A” prominently .

Everything fell into place.

My first feeling was horror that deep down I might harbor harsh feelings about someone who is very likeable and about whom i've heard some awfully nice things.

After that passed, however, it‘s been plain awestruck admiration for the brilliant wordplay in my subconscious :).

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Whoops!

I checked this page out today to realize that Blogger (bad Blogger!) had saved a week’s worth of posts as drafts instead of publishing them to my blog.

Not that you missed anything, but they’re all here and accounted for now--just in case the other seven gazillion blogs on the internets have nothing new and you needed an emergency assist with your procrastination problem. Or something.


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Best Advice Ever

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Came, appropriately enough, from my (dissertation) advisor.

“My dear girl,” she said, “You shouldn’t analyze your life as though it were a literary text.”

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Tricks and Treats

Before the birthday boy’s treat at Peter Luger’s yesterday, we had a court date regarding the garage door noise.

And it turns out that we have spent $1294.48 on trying to quiet the monster that is our garage door. A garage that we rent, in case you didn’t already know that.

That’s the price of a well budgeted ski vacation :/

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!!!!!!!!Happy Birthday to Big A!!!!!!!!!

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Not that I’d advocate astrology or anything, but Big A comes on all strongly Scorpio to my Pisces--yeah, it's that awesome :) .


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Discovered at the Mall

It’s not everyday that you walk out of a shoe store flushed with happiness at finding the perfect pair of boots. You know, boots that you fell in love with the second before you actually turned and saw them fully? THOSE boots.

And yes, as I was saying, i walked out of the store flushed with happiness and someone walks out after me and gives me their business card, that says they’re VP of Operations at Ralph Lauren, and says to call them because they have a job for me.

I brushed him off. I was either so happy with my new boots or prickly about a stranger talking to me. Actually--prickly about a male stranger talking to me. Paraya mard. Not pariah mard, obviously--'cos i'm not like that.

I told Big A about the impromptu job offer and he said, (with TM-ed snark) “They have a position at Ralph Lauren that requires an almost PhD. ?” (Actually an ABD D.Phil, but whatever.)

I told my mom, and she immediately KNEW that it was a prostitution trap. I tried to reassure her that one has to stand in line to interview at places like that these days, but I don’t think i succeeded in convincing her.

I wondered for a while what the job could be, what the Bill Gates look-alike guy assumes my qualifications are. Sure, it could be moving boxes, but then it was at this mall, where the average consumer doesn’t do manual labor. Was my mother right--did this job offer have anything to do with the fact that I'd hiked my jeans all the way to mid-thigh all the better to assess those cute boots and my stupid knobby knees?

I finally called the guy out of curiosity--they’re doing an in-house fashion show (a really small thing, in the mall) and he wanted people to walk it. Now that I’ve been discovered in a mall, i’m all clichéd.


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