Opera is for Lovers

...or pretentious assholes. 

Am listening to Maria Callas and I feel so peaceful. And fake. 

Two entries in a row! So what's the occasion? Dan was able to open the garage door! Yea Dan! I am now at the Union, working on a spreadsheet, naturally. Dan and I are going out to dinner tonight at Ruth Chris. I am so terribly excited! 

Another piece of good news: I was so sore this morning that I literally could. not. run. Not at all. My body just refused. Finally, a good excuse for not working out! My trainer is killing me. I love it.

In other news, The Love Guru was absolutely eviscerated by the New York Times. Surprised? Not really. Honestly, this is the best part of the whole review: "No, the Love Guru is downright antifunny, an experience that makes you wonder if you will ever laugh again." 

SNAP! A. O. Scott (son of Joan Scott, for all of you who are interested in cultural history as an academic discipline) pulls no punches. And nor will I today (terrible segue). Back to work for me. 

Don't Call It A Comeback

I'm back. 

Here is my explanation for my blogging hiatus: I have a dull, yet happy, life. Really, what could I write? "Today I went to the office, worked until 11:30, then I ate lunch because I am very midwestern in that way, and then I went home at 6:30. Dan made dinner. I drank too much. We watched Olbermann. I played sudoku. I woke up the next morning and did the EXACT SAME THING!."

So you must forgive me for not updating. The funny thing is that I like my routine. 

Alas, my life has changed slightly due to a stubbornly broken garage door. My car is stuck in the garage and I am stranded in the 'burbs. Hence this blog post from Borders (located next door--how convenient!).

I've also began working out with a personal trainer. I know. I'm slightly embarrassed about this. The problem is that I cannot lose weight and I needed someone to kick my ass. So there. I did it. I feel very selfish. And sore. 

Speaking of selfish, David leaves today for Toronto and then he deserts us for Australia. He'll be back in August. 

Final note of interest: my advisor informed me that my quantitative section of my dissertation must be finished before I leave for France. Crap, crap, crap. Managing my undergrad data coders and filling in Excel sheets are the activities that keep me occupied until 6:30. 

So leave a comment. Let me know you care. 

Cupcakes

Dan and I have been engaged in a massive house clean since Saturday. It was time as the place was abysmally dirty. We are jettisoning all of our worldly affairs that no longer matter. Harsh? Perhaps. Cruel? Unintentionally. How good it feels though to rid myself of so much useless crap! Dan and I are both pack rats but I think that we are changing our ways. Unfortunately, cleaning will be a week long extravaganza. 

Saturday Dan and I went to R & J's house for karaoke.  I think I've found my new love. Yes, it was MAGIC.  The best performance, in my honest opinion, was David's rendition of "Rock the Casbah." So much passion! 

Dan and I have begun buying the food for our engagement party. Today we headed over to Cake Nouveau where we ordered 90 mini cupcakes. Which flavors, you ask? That I cannot tell. You must wait until Friday to find out. 

Dunder Mifflin is Haven Hall

So this is going to be a very quick entry as I have a meeting in t-14 minutes. There are many aspects of my job that I hate. Whether it be the mundane data crunching or dealing with other people's insecurities, I am always finding a reason to wish I was somewhere else. I imagine that I am no anomaly and that most people hate their jobs (or at least aspects). I am just like the cubicle-dwelling median American! 

So here is my soon-to-be coping mechanism. What I think will make my life more bearable is pretending that I am the star of my own documentary à la The Office. So my painfully awkward meeting (and believe me, it will be both PAINFUL and AWKWARD) that I will be attending is merely COMIC GOLD! The audience cringes with me. And we will all feel better knowing that this too shall pass. 

Comptine D'Un Autre Été

I am writing from my kitchen table in Bowling Green, Kentucky. A soft breeze enters the room and I can hear birds warbling. These bird sounds are driving my cats crazy. They are pacing by the porch door, desperate to go outside. 

This trip has been enjoyable but I'm also inclined to hate April and May. I feel pasty, sluggish, and completely thrown off-kilter. 

David, Dan, and I traveled down to Bowling Green to escape graduation week. My dad grilled California burgers our first night here. He is in heaven. He loves sitting outside and talking with Dan and David. On Wednesday, they ate paella and did shot after shot of tequila and rum. I had two glasses of wine and called it a night.

I've got a lot of work to do, more than I had anticipated. The past few days have been dedicated to work for my GSRA-ship. Now I have to work on this paper that I'm co-authoring. All I want to do is work on my own stuff. I've been told that I have to finish my prospectus by May 20th. Approved and everything.

Crap.

States That Are Essentially By-Products

Bisous Cat stays! Hurrah!

Am working in my office but am feeling uninspi(red). 

It appears there will be drinks tonight at La Habana. Here is to hoping that the id obeys the superego. I doubt it. In fact, I HIGHLY doubt it. 

Best thing I've read today (and so utterly true): 

States That Are Essentially By-Products

...I can get A by doing A, but only if I do A in order to get Y... 

(An example) Musical glory or social success falls in the category of state that are essentially by-products - states that cannot be realized by actions motivated only by the desire to realize them. These are states that may come about, but not be brought about intentionally by a simple decision... Attempts to realize these desires are likely to be ineffectual and can even make matters worse. 

--Jon Elster

Mark Leibovich wrote an absolutely riveting article on Chris Matthews. It appears the more we aim for respect, the more we fall dismally short. This reminds me of the time in high school when I was obsessed with being a bad-ass. Nathan had unceremoniously excluded me from his top ten bad-asses at Castle High School. According to Nathan, my efforts to join this storied list made me even less of a bad-ass. Just as Chris Matthews will forever be on the Washington B-List, thanks to his insatiable desire to be on the A-List. Frustrating, I know.

What's Wrong With You?

Ugh, I feel horrible. Bisous Cat and Dan got in a dispute last night and we might have to get rid of her. She is sulking on the windowsill behind the couch. She is making strange noises and I think she may be ill. I am thinking of taking her to the vet. Does anyone who knows anything about cats know if these are signs of sickness? Why do the two best things in my life not get along? In other news, I am done with Midwest and feeling more and more human every day.