Super

So I have an essay due next Monday, I was going to write it this weekend.
The thing is, my weekends are three days long. And I didn't write the paper. Oops. Whatever, I was going to, but then I realized I had to actually do research first, and I didn't want to research, I wanted to write a paper, so whatever, I didn't do it.

I also found out this morning that the Superbowl was tonight. I'm not the biggest football fan out there (though I do like the American version more than the European), but I, like so many out there, have a soft spot for the Superbowl. Last year when I was living in England all the Americans stayed up until all hours (I think the thing started at 11 and went till 3 or something ridiculous) and ate wings and pizza (no chili, which is my preferred Superbowl cuisine) and drank beer and, you know. Watched the game. Tom Petty played halftime last year, he was excellent.
Anyway, tonight I went with some friends to a sports bar, ate a hamburger and fries and watched the Steelers fight the Cardinals for the Superbowl title. I was underwhelmed by Bruce Springsteen's halftime show (he didn't play Born in the U.S.A.) and was distressed to find that CTV shows Canadian ads and not the $3million/30 seconds ads that are shown in the States. I saw the Budwiser Clydesdale fall in love, but that was about it.
The sportsbar gave us free Budwiser promotional stuff though, which was cool.

Anyway, the end.
14 days till New York Pizza, my mouth is watering already.

Anya

So I got my new computer the other day. I really like it, no problems so far, except it uses a different program than my old one did to play movies. I don't quite know how to make this new program work, but basically when I play anything that's in widescreen format instead of understanding that my computer actually has a wide screen, which it does, the thing automatically puts black letterbox bars on all four sides. Now, the screen on this computer is bigger than the one on my old computer was, but it isn't really big enough to watch a movie with letterbox bars all around it.
Help?

Other than that, I really like the computer. It's name is Anya, which means "The Inexhaustible" in Sanskrit. Hopefully this one will last longer than my previous laptop.

Psychosomatic Illness

Was watching Harry and Sally today. Conversation topic: How long do you like to be held after?

He: You have sex, and the minute you're finished you know what goes through your mind? How long do I have to hold her before I can get up and go home? Is thirty seconds enough?
She (aghast): That's what you're thinking? Is that true?
He: Sure. All men think that. How long do you like to be held after? All night, right? See, that's your problem. Somewhere between thirty seconds and all night is your problem.
She: I don't have a problem.
He: Yeah, you do.


One of my friends is here, she's writing a paper, the topic of which is "Is Love a Drug?" She isn't enjoying writing it that much, but she's bringing up important topics, such as the drugging affects of love. We just had a conversation about which is worse: Psychosomatic Illness or Syphilis.
I vote Syphilis.
Anyone else's vote?

Robbie Burns

She: It's Robbie Burns night!
Me: I know. I'm wearing tartan.
She: Another excuse to drink.
Me: I am.

I'm incredibly classy (ish) and so went to a friend's dinner party this evening, decked out in tartan, more because I have a kilt that I never get to wear and less because of any knowledge as to who Robbie Burns might or might not have been, but decked out none the less. I came carrying a fresh, hot challah (because that is all I know how to make food-wise and also because I feel my Canadian friends would benefit from a little more Jew in their lives) and also two of my housemates. We were all tartan-clad in honour of the occasion. Nobody else was.

So we got to the house where the dinnerparty was being held, and partook in pasta and sauce, salads, rice dishes, etc. and also my challah, which they (being not Jews) did not know what to do with (I'm a tearer. I can't handle challah being defiled by a knife.) To my great pleasure, J (my fellow Jew) had made matzahball soup.
A note on matzahball soup: my family does not attempt this. My mother made it once. The matzahballs were like rocks and the soup was bland. I remember my grandmother making it, but she wasn't generally around for Pesach, so who knows. J's soup was outstanding. She made the soup from scratch and it was actually good, it had flavour, and the matzahballs were...there are no words. Suffice it to say I'm reconsidering going home for Passover this year.
The gentiles didn't know what to do with the matzahball soup either, so I ate most of that.
Anyway, the fact of the matter is that the gentlemen cannot, on the whole, cook. Generally speaking they live in res anyway, and so don't have kitchens, but I doubt these guys would be able to cook regardless. Which is fine with me, as they all brought wine. Someone brought a bottle of white, which basically culminated in me having the following for dinner:
1. pasta and sauce
2. matzahball soup
3. challah
(this actually sounds not unlike a Shabbat dinner at my parents' house)
4. white wine
5. (this is the kicker:) chocolate fondue with marshmallows, cookies, pretzels, strawberries and banannas.

I have such excellent, classy friends.

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

So I've actually met some pretty cool people in my life. My mother used to work for a TV personality, and she'd sometimes take me to conferences and things that she went to. I met a few people this way. I met a few more people during my job last summer in DC (like the Senior Senator from Illinois who is currently the Senate Majority Whip, and my Congressman, a Republican who I like anyway, who took me into the Republican Cloak Room in the Capitol Building(!)). I also worked for someone pretty cool last summer, and pseudo-famous (and definitely normal--he came into a staff meeting once still wearing his sweaty running gear). My favourite of the Famous People I know, however, is a young guy (mid-20s) who started an organization I've done some work with. He was on my trip to Kenya, and so knows me, sort of. Well enough, anyway. (I'm amazed that famous-type people know anyone. In DC nobody ever says "Nice to meet you" for fear that they've already met the person before, and forgotten about it. I know this guy, but I've only met him four or five times, and I'm sure he meets hundreds of people in his work. Still, though, he remembers my name and who I am (though maybe not where I'm from or, apparently, where I go to school) and how he knows me, etc.) I'm always amazed when I talk to him how normal he is. He isn't really, his anecdotes always involve Mother Theresa or the Prime Minister or someone similar. His social life is just absurd, compared to, for example, mine. But he's a nice guy, and normal enough. He wants me to come volunteer in his office in Toronto. I want to work at the office his organization has in California, so we'll see how it goes. I chided him for not letting me know he was going to be in town (I found out last night that he was going to be here today, and only because a friend knew I knew him.) The thing that most reaffirms that this is a normal guy to me, though, is that when I scolded him for not letting me know, he said that he remembered that I went to Queen's, but not that Queen's was the university in Kingston. Apparently he was wholly unable to put two and two together to come up with my area code.
Oh, well. These things happen, I guess.

As punishment I'm not going to spend 40$ to go see him speak in town tonight.
Whoops.

Boys

I miss highschool boys. I knew great guys in highschool. I still talk to several of them. One is A, my intended. He doesn't count. I miss him like crazy, but I see him, and am reasonably certain of our relationship. (Which is to say, we never had a relationship, so there's nothing to...miss.)

Anyway, a college boy (I wish he was a man--he isn't) is going to ask me out, and I'm so reluctant that I've begun talking to the highschool boys again. BAD CHOICE. The thing is, as well as I might know this new guy, he isn't one of my highschool boys. I can't talk about things with him like I can with them (there are two of them.)
Except maybe I can and I just haven't.
And maybe I'm stressing about nothing. He didn't actually ask me out (like I thought he was going to.) Which is because I discouraged him. I brought out all my discouraging talents.
I regret it already.

I just don't want to go out on a date. I have no problem with the physical things, whatever, its not a big deal. I just don't want to have to sit across from him at dinner and have to make smalltalk, or go to a movie and have to choose between paying attention to him playing with my hands, etc. and watching the movie. And then who pays (and who has money for such activities anyway?) and who does what and what do I wear and...
More trouble than its worth.

Maybe.

BiPolar Disorder

I wish there was a WebMD for computers.
Mine crashed again today (after I'd actually used it for something legit for the first time in ages, which I then thought I'd lost). Normally when it crashes it turns back on not right away but within an hour or two. Not so today. It crashed at 5. I thought it was done. I called my father, who told me to get a new computer. I freaked out. I don't want a new computer, I really do like this one. Also, how was I supposed to research a new computer without a working one? So I went out for awhile, had a very bad day, came back and my computer turned on fine. My father still says I should get a new one, but at least I got my document back.
In addition to a WebMD for computers, I wish there was a site I could go to where I could tell it exactly what I want and it would tell me what computer I should get. Anyone have suggestions? It can't be HP cause this one is HP and it keeps dying for no reason, and it can't be a mac because they don't have a delete key or a right click and I think that's pretentious and I hate them for it. I'm thinking Dell or Vaio, but I don't know.
Fuck.

At least this one is working now, though who knows when it's going to start acting up again. I think I'll go out and start looking for a new one tomorrow, though I'd rather wait till the weekend. I guess I'll see what the school has to say about it first.