The Return

I've opened and re-opened blogger.com about a million times since my last entry to create a new one. And without fail, every time, I've gotten through one or two sentences and then freaked the fuck out and frantically exited the window. I'm not exactly sure why this has been happening, but I think there's something about blog-writing that I haven't grown entirely comfortable with yet. And for some reason I feel guilty for not updating constantly. Anyway, trying to get over the weirdness, and hopefully this will make it onto my site.

Blah blah. Enough of that jabber.

It's been a weird month. I went to New York with my family for the Bangladeshi Medical Association Convention. It was actually a good time. I met some cool people and went out one night with my old friend Vini. One thing I realized about New Yorkers: no one stays home. Ever. As a sporadic fan of the bar scene, I asked a couple people that I met if they ever got tired of going out constantly. I was greeted with strange and surprised looks. It makes sense: the apartments are so tiny, that most socialization occurs at bars. It's common practice to meet friends and colleageus for drinks. One person replied that there were so many bars, it never got old. I don't know about you, but while I've been to some great bars, it's pretty much the same thing over and over, and there's only so much I can take without getting annoyed at the constant loop of screaming pleasantries over loud music and getting drunk to the point that said pleasantries cease to be pleasant.

We were in Manhattan for two nights. Oh oh, and I finally got to sample a cupcake from the famous Magnolia Bakery . It was, as promised, phenomenal. A must for any sweet tooth connoisseur.

Anyway, we went to Long Island to see relatives for the remainder of the trip. It was pretty boring, but it was nice to have some quiet reading time. Not to mention that I had my own room and didn't have to sleep in the same room with my parents anymore.

Our trip ended badly because my father woke up and couldn't move much due to previously existing (for like the past 25 freaking years) back problems. They made it back to Midland somehow with the assistance of wheelchairs and very slow walking. The next week, I went to Dallas for his very overdue and very required surgery.

Hospitals are not fun. I got so tired of eating a steady diet of vending machine. However, it meant the world to my parents that I was there, and I was able to see some old family friends and relatives. I wish that I had been able to see them under happier circumstances, but their presence made a difficult time much easier. An official thanks for all of you who e-mailed or called with concern.

Other than that, I've been working on applications for grad school. It so has not been long enough since I've had to write a personal statement. Those things suck. I end up hyper-aware of being either too self-aggrandizing or too self-deprecating, and consequently forfeit my natural writing style. While I understand its importance, I wish someone would just write the damned thing for me so I could be done with it.

I really like organizing my M&M's by color and then eating them from the color which has the most to the color which has the least. I'm not OCD, I promise!

The Return

I've opened and re-opened blogger.com about a million times since my last entry to create a new one. And without fail, every time, I've gotten through one or two sentences and then freaked the fuck out and frantically exited the window. I'm not exactly sure why this has been happening, but I think there's something about blog-writing that I haven't grown entirely comfortable with yet. And for some reason I feel guilty for not updating constantly. Anyway, trying to get over the weirdness, and hopefully this will make it onto my site.

Blah blah. Enough of that jabber.

It's been a weird month. I went to New York with my family for the Bangladeshi Medical Association Convention. It was actually a good time. I met some cool people and went out one night with my old friend Vini. One thing I realized about New Yorkers: no one stays home. Ever. As a sporadic fan of the bar scene, I asked a couple people that I met if they ever got tired of going out constantly. I was greeted with strange and surprised looks. It makes sense: the apartments are so tiny, that most socialization occurs at bars. It's common practice to meet friends and colleageus for drinks. One person replied that there were so many bars, it never got old. I don't know about you, but while I've been to some great bars, it's pretty much the same thing over and over, and there's only so much I can take without getting annoyed at the constant loop of screaming pleasantries over loud music and getting drunk to the point that said pleasantries cease to be pleasant.

We were in Manhattan for two nights. Oh oh, and I finally got to sample a cupcake from the famous Magnolia Bakery . It was, as promised, phenomenal. A must for any sweet tooth connoisseur.

Anyway, we went to Long Island to see relatives for the remainder of the trip. It was pretty boring, but it was nice to have some quiet reading time. Not to mention that I had my own room and didn't have to sleep in the same room with my parents anymore.

Our trip ended badly because my father woke up and couldn't move much due to previously existing (for like the past 25 freaking years) back problems. They made it back to Midland somehow with the assistance of wheelchairs and very slow walking. The next week, I went to Dallas for his very overdue and very required surgery.

Hospitals are not fun. I got so tired of eating a steady diet of vending machine. However, it meant the world to my parents that I was there, and I was able to see some old family friends and relatives. I wish that I had been able to see them under happier circumstances, but their presence made a difficult time much easier. An official thanks for all of you who e-mailed or called with concern.

Other than that, I've been working on applications for grad school. It so has not been long enough since I've had to write a personal statement. Those things suck. I end up hyper-aware of being either too self-aggrandizing or too self-deprecating, and consequently forfeit my natural writing style. While I understand its importance, I wish someone would just write the damned thing for me so I could be done with it.

I really like organizing my M&M's by color and then eating them from the color which has the most to the color which has the least. I'm not OCD, I promise!

The Return

I've opened and re-opened blogger.com about a million times since my last entry to create a new one. And without fail, every time, I've gotten through one or two sentences and then freaked the fuck out and frantically exited the window. I'm not exactly sure why this has been happening, but I think there's something about blog-writing that I haven't grown entirely comfortable with yet. And for some reason I feel guilty for not updating constantly. Anyway, trying to get over the weirdness, and hopefully this will make it onto my site.

Blah blah. Enough of that jabber.

It's been a weird month. I went to New York with my family for the Bangladeshi Medical Association Convention. It was actually a good time. I met some cool people and went out one night with my old friend Vini. One thing I realized about New Yorkers: no one stays home. Ever. As a sporadic fan of the bar scene, I asked a couple people that I met if they ever got tired of going out constantly. I was greeted with strange and surprised looks. It makes sense: the apartments are so tiny, that most socialization occurs at bars. It's common practice to meet friends and colleageus for drinks. One person replied that there were so many bars, it never got old. I don't know about you, but while I've been to some great bars, it's pretty much the same thing over and over, and there's only so much I can take without getting annoyed at the constant loop of screaming pleasantries over loud music and getting drunk to the point that said pleasantries cease to be pleasant.

We were in Manhattan for two nights. Oh oh, and I finally got to sample a cupcake from the famous Magnolia Bakery . It was, as promised, phenomenal. A must for any sweet tooth connoisseur.

Anyway, we went to Long Island to see relatives for the remainder of the trip. It was pretty boring, but it was nice to have some quiet reading time. Not to mention that I had my own room and didn't have to sleep in the same room with my parents anymore.

Our trip ended badly because my father woke up and couldn't move much due to previously existing (for like the past 25 freaking years) back problems. They made it back to Midland somehow with the assistance of wheelchairs and very slow walking. The next week, I went to Dallas for his very overdue and very required surgery.

Hospitals are not fun. I got so tired of eating a steady diet of vending machine. However, it meant the world to my parents that I was there, and I was able to see some old family friends and relatives. I wish that I had been able to see them under happier circumstances, but their presence made a difficult time much easier. An official thanks for all of you who e-mailed or called with concern.

Other than that, I've been working on applications for grad school. It so has not been long enough since I've had to write a personal statement. Those things suck. I end up hyper-aware of being either too self-aggrandizing or too self-deprecating, and consequently forfeit my natural writing style. While I understand its importance, I wish someone would just write the damned thing for me so I could be done with it.

I really like organizing my M&M's by color and then eating them from the color which has the most to the color which has the least. I'm not OCD, I promise!

I've opened and re-opened blogger.com about a million times since my last entry to create a new one. And without fail, every time, I've gotten through one or two sentences and then freaked the fuck out and frantically exited the window. I'm not exactly sure why this has been happening, but I think there's something about blog-writing that I haven't grown entirely comfortable with yet. And for some reason I feel guilty for not updating constantly. Anyway, trying to get over the weirdness, and hopefully this will make it onto my site.

Blah blah. Enough of that jabber.

It's been a weird month. I went to New York with my family for the Bangladeshi Medical Association Convention. It was actually a good time. I met some cool people and went out one night with my old friend Vini. One thing I realized about New Yorkers: no one stays home. Ever. As a sporadic fan of the bar scene, I asked a couple people that I met if they ever got tired of going out constantly. I was greeted with strange and surprised looks. It makes sense: the apartments are so tiny, that most socialization occurs at bars. It's common practice to meet friends and colleageus for drinks. One person replied that there were so many bars, it never got old. I don't know about you, but while I've been to some great bars, it's pretty much the same thing over and over, and there's only so much I can take without getting annoyed at the constant loop of screaming pleasantries over loud music and getting drunk to the point that said pleasantries cease to be pleasant.

We were in Manhattan for two nights. Oh oh, and I finally got to sample a cupcake from the famous Magnolia Bakery . It was, as promised, phenomenal. A must for any sweet tooth connoisseur.

Anyway, we went to Long Island to see relatives for the remainder of the trip. It was pretty boring, but it was nice to have some quiet reading time. Not to mention that I had my own room and didn't have to sleep in the same room with my parents anymore.

Our trip ended badly because my father woke up and couldn't move much due to previously existing (for like the past 25 freaking years) back problems. They made it back to Midland somehow with the assistance of wheelchairs and very slow walking. The next week, I went to Dallas for his very overdue and very required surgery.

Hospitals are not fun. I got so tired of eating a steady diet of vending machine. However, it meant the world to my parents that I was there, and I was able to see some old family friends and relatives. I wish that I had been able to see them under happier circumstances, but their presence made a difficult time much easier. An official thanks for all of you who e-mailed or called with concern.

Other than that, I've been working on applications for grad school. It so has not been long enough since I've had to write a personal statement. Those things suck. I end up hyper-aware of being either too self-aggrandizing or too self-deprecating, and consequently forfeit my natural writing style. While I understand its importance, I wish someone would just write the damned thing for me so I could be done with it.

I really like organizing my M&M's by color and then eating them from the color which has the most to the color which has the least. I'm not OCD, I promise!

I've opened and re-opened blogger.com about a million times since my last entry to create a new one. And without fail, every time, I've gotten through one or two sentences and then freaked the fuck out and frantically exited the window. I'm not exactly sure why this has been happening, but I think there's something about blog-writing that I haven't grown entirely comfortable with yet. And for some reason I feel guilty for not updating constantly. Anyway, trying to get over the weirdness, and hopefully this will make it onto my site.

Blah blah. Enough of that jabber.

It's been a weird month. I went to New York with my family for the Bangladeshi Medical Association Convention. It was actually a good time. I met some cool people and went out one night with my old friend Vini. One thing I realized about New Yorkers: no one stays home. Ever. As a sporadic fan of the bar scene, I asked a couple people that I met if they ever got tired of going out constantly. I was greeted with strange and surprised looks. It makes sense: the apartments are so tiny, that most socialization occurs at bars. It's common practice to meet friends and colleageus for drinks. One person replied that there were so many bars, it never got old. I don't know about you, but while I've been to some great bars, it's pretty much the same thing over and over, and there's only so much I can take without getting annoyed at the constant loop of screaming pleasantries over loud music and getting drunk to the point that said pleasantries cease to be pleasant.

We were in Manhattan for two nights. Oh oh, and I finally got to sample a cupcake from the famous Magnolia Bakery . It was, as promised, phenomenal. A must for any sweet tooth connoisseur.

Anyway, we went to Long Island to see relatives for the remainder of the trip. It was pretty boring, but it was nice to have some quiet reading time. Not to mention that I had my own room and didn't have to sleep in the same room with my parents anymore.

Our trip ended badly because my father woke up and couldn't move much due to previously existing (for like the past 25 freaking years) back problems. They made it back to Midland somehow with the assistance of wheelchairs and very slow walking. The next week, I went to Dallas for his very overdue and very required surgery.

Hospitals are not fun. I got so tired of eating a steady diet of vending machine. However, it meant the world to my parents that I was there, and I was able to see some old family friends and relatives. I wish that I had been able to see them under happier circumstances, but their presence made a difficult time much easier. An official thanks for all of you who e-mailed or called with concern.

Other than that, I've been working on applications for grad school. It so has not been long enough since I've had to write a personal statement. Those things suck. I end up hyper-aware of being either too self-aggrandizing or too self-deprecating, and consequently forfeit my natural writing style. While I understand its importance, I wish someone would just write the damned thing for me so I could be done with it.

I really like organizing my M&M's by color and then eating them from the color which has the most to the color which has the least. I'm not OCD, I promise!

I've opened and re-opened blogger.com about a million times since my last entry to create a new one. And without fail, every time, I've gotten through one or two sentences and then freaked the fuck out and frantically exited the window. I'm not exactly sure why this has been happening, but I think there's something about blog-writing that I haven't grown entirely comfortable with yet. And for some reason I feel guilty for not updating constantly. Anyway, trying to get over the weirdness, and hopefully this will make it onto my site.

Blah blah. Enough of that jabber.

It's been a weird month. I went to New York with my family for the Bangladeshi Medical Association Convention. It was actually a good time. I met some cool people and went out one night with my old friend Vini. One thing I realized about New Yorkers: no one stays home. Ever. As a sporadic fan of the bar scene, I asked a couple people that I met if they ever got tired of going out constantly. I was greeted with strange and surprised looks. It makes sense: the apartments are so tiny, that most socialization occurs at bars. It's common practice to meet friends and colleageus for drinks. One person replied that there were so many bars, it never got old. I don't know about you, but while I've been to some great bars, it's pretty much the same thing over and over, and there's only so much I can take without getting annoyed at the constant loop of screaming pleasantries over loud music and getting drunk to the point that said pleasantries cease to be pleasant.

We were in Manhattan for two nights. Oh oh, and I finally got to sample a cupcake from the famous Magnolia Bakery . It was, as promised, phenomenal. A must for any sweet tooth connoisseur.

Anyway, we went to Long Island to see relatives for the remainder of the trip. It was pretty boring, but it was nice to have some quiet reading time. Not to mention that I had my own room and didn't have to sleep in the same room with my parents anymore.

Our trip ended badly because my father woke up and couldn't move much due to previously existing (for like the past 25 freaking years) back problems. They made it back to Midland somehow with the assistance of wheelchairs and very slow walking. The next week, I went to Dallas for his very overdue and very required surgery.

Hospitals are not fun. I got so tired of eating a steady diet of vending machine. However, it meant the world to my parents that I was there, and I was able to see some old family friends and relatives. I wish that I had been able to see them under happier circumstances, but their presence made a difficult time much easier. An official thanks for all of you who e-mailed or called with concern.

Other than that, I've been working on applications for grad school. It so has not been long enough since I've had to write a personal statement. Those things suck. I end up hyper-aware of being either too self-aggrandizing or too self-deprecating, and consequently forfeit my natural writing style. While I understand its importance, I wish someone would just write the damned thing for me so I could be done with it.

I really like organizing my M&M's by color and then eating them from the color which has the most to the color which has the least. I'm not OCD, I promise!

Another Car Incident, Children, and a Poem

So it turns out that karma hasn't finished with me yet. Today after leaving work, I was about to turn right on a GREEN LIGHT, when a biker chick came out of nowhere and I hit her, not being able to brake quickly enough. Let me tell you, it was one of the most terrifying things I've ever seen. Her mouth an O of shock. Then her body falling out of my line of vision. Thankfully, she was okay except for a bruised wrist, a wounded ego, and a messed up bike tire.

I gotta say though, to all of you bikers out there: WEAR A FUCKING HELMET. There is no reason not to. It is distinctly uncool to not wear a helmet, I don't care if it ruins the way your hair looks floating past you or doesn't go exactly with your messenger bag. It might sound, at the moment, like I have something against bikers. I don't, really, the whole incident just really upset me and reminded me of how much I hate the fact that most bikers in Austin don't wear helmets when riding on busy streets.

At any rate, all's well that ends well. I'm glad she's okay. I am too, despite crying all the way home.

I went home this past weekend. Surprisingly, I actually wanted to. Sometimes you just need your mommy. I got home, changed into my suit, and went swimming with my 7-year old brother. At some point we were looking at clouds, and I said, hey, doesn't that look like a dinosaur? And he replied, "NO! It's a galactic spaceship threatening to destroy humanity!"

Um. I apparently am out of my league with kids these days. Although both he and I have a mutually healthy appreciation for the animated stylings of Samurai Jack and my mother's cooking.

Speaking of parenthood, everyone should check out Dooce's site if you haven't ever. She's fabulous, funny, smart, and a new mother who's not afraid to be honest about her recent difficulties with depression following the birth of her adorable daughter, Leta.

And now, a poem that I love that seems appropriate for parts of this entry:

Those Winter Sundays

by Robert Hayden

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

Fun at Work

Sorry about the lack of communication...I've been, umm, focusing on other things. But here's a snippet from a conversation Amanda and I had this morning:

amanda says:
blah

amanda says:
BLAH!!!

sophia says (simultaneously):
HUGNRY!

amanda says:
awesome.

sophia says:
dammit.

sophia says:
it makes me so angry that it's misspelled and that i can't take it back

amanda says:
i figured

sophia says:
now you're in my head screaming blah

amanda says:
it's easier to take back things not in caps lock

sophia says:
thanks for pointing that out. it makes me feel so much better.

amanda says:
np

sophia says:
wow. it's sad, there's this hysterical laughter buggling in me as a result of seeing BLAH!!!

amanda says:
buggling?

amanda says:
is that in ender's game or something?

sophia says:
oh this is going to be a bad day

amanda says:
hahaha

sophia says:
bubbling

amanda says:
i figured

sophia says:
dammit.

amanda says:
but now i never know after that last word

amanda says:
what was it? the one from the book that some guy made up?

sophia says:
what last word

amanda says:
someone you've been reading recently that didnt sound like a real word at all

sophia says:
grok

amanda says:
yep that's the one

amanda says:
i can never assume anymore that something you write isnt a real word

amanda says:
life just isnt the same after grok

I had a really good weekend. I spent time with friends I don't see often, and I went to a movie premiere for Before Sunset , the sequel to Richard Linklater's Before Sunrise , one of my favorite movies ever. It reminded me of how much my life is enriched by good conversations with people that I care about.

In other news, in order to hopefully jumpstart this poem that I'm working on, I've been reading a lot of poetry. One of my favorites, that I always forget that I love, by Goethe:

The Holy Longing

Tell a wise person, or else keep silent,
because the mass man will mock it right away.
I praise what is truly alive,
what longs to be burned to death.

In the calm water of the love-nights,
where you were begotten, where you have begotten,
a strange feeling comes over you,
when you see the silent candle burning.

Now you are no longer caught in the obsession with darkness,
and a desire for higher love-making sweeps you upward.

Distance does not make you falter.
Now, arriving in magic, flying,
and finally, insane for the light,
you are the butterfly and you are gone.
And so long as you haven't experienced this: to die and so to grow,
you are only a troubled guest on the dark earth.


The darkness of the poem comforts me. I love "I praise what is truly alive/what longs to be burned to death."

I'm also re-reading Robert A. Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land , which is one of my favorite science fiction books. Not to mention that it's written by my favorite sci-fi author. Heinlein is incredible...what's so interesting to me about his work is that, though it's science fiction, it's difficult to contextualize him temporally. His books are chock full of wise-isms (witticisms too) and socio-political commentary, not to mention religious symbolism and mockery. He's definitely not for the morally inflexible.

There is one slice of ice cream cake left. But I'm afraid that I am no longer enticed by it, and might be forced to throw it away so I don't eat it just to avoid feeling badly about not wanting it anymore.

Ennui

I started to do this last night in my glass and a half of wine stupor, but I’m continuing it at work since I have 41 minutes left to be here and I’m done with all the work I need to. Courtesy of friend Dorothy’s blog:

1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says:
"And when I've pulled down the metal blind, the street will just stay dark, and that's that."

2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?
Small table with my phone, half-full ashtray, glass of water

3: What is the last thing you watched on TV?:
an episode of Felicity on DVD

4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what the time is:
11:11

5: Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?:
11:18

6: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
the hum of crickets and cicadas, and the distance yet still annoying sounds of a couple arguing

7: When did you last step outside? what were you doing?
i am outside....but when I was inside, I was searching frantically for a lighter

8: Before you came to this website, what did you look at?
Drudge Report

9: What are you wearing?
flip flops, BCBG track pants, a faded old navy t-shit, chipped nail polish called "frolick"

10: Did you dream last night?
Yes, about paper shredders and comedians.

11: When did you last laugh?
A few minutes ago outside with co-worker Ayesha at human’s bodily processes

12: What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Bulletin boards, window shades, various pictures and postcards

13: Seen anything weird lately?
A co-worker guiltily playing hopscotch

14: is a dumb question; hereby deleted -

15: What is the last film you saw?
Shrek 2 (everyone must see it; Antonio Banderas – puss in boots – priceless)

16: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?
An amazing meal, and then lots of books.

17: Tell me something about you that I don't know.
When I was 12 I shaved my head.

19: Do you like to dance?
Yes, especially to un-copyrighted Indian pop remixes

20: George Bush: is he a power-crazy nutcase or some one who is finally doing something that has needed to be done for years?
bush. bad. fade away.

22: Would you ever consider living abroad?
Indeed – france or italy or tropics, and soonish, I hope.

When it rains...

I'm on my way to one of TWO BASKIN ROBBINS LEFT IN AUSTIN to get myself an ice cream birthday cake (oh god, the frosting alone is worth the drive). I've just gotten off the phone with my mom who actually asked me if I was going to eat the whole thing by myself. And then this guy in front of me decisively pulls into a turning lane and then changes his mind and just as decisively pulls back in front of me, thereby causing me to narrowly avoid hitting him by swerving slightly to the right. Which would have been fine if Mr. Fancy Shmancy Corporate Shithead BMW SUV in the lane to my right hadn't come speeding past, causing me to swipe him (although I'm holding fast to the belief that he swiped himself on my car).

Great.

So while I'm trying to get the license plate of the stupidhead who caused all this, the jerkoff in the BMW is gesticulating wildly and yelling, "You hit me!" all while we're on the feeder road to Loop 1. So I pull over while the first guy speeds off, and I'm left to deal with the second who gets out of his car along with two of his hoochies, who are teetering on their heels while artfully tossing their hair. He shakes his head angrily and looks at me as if I've cut off his dick and left it for the dogs and says, again, as if I didn't hear him yelling that shit earlier, "You hit me!" Despite the fact that I don't think it's really my fault, I graciously apologize and explain what happened. This polo-shirt-tucked-into-his-carefully-pressed-black-pants-Oakley-sunglass-wearing fuckhead gives me the biggest shit-eating grin and says, "Oh I know, I saw what happened," even though he's acting like my car should have either grown wings or levitated rather than hit him in his dumb shiny car. Then he and his hoochies search the side of the car that suffered the apparent impact, although there is no visible evidence of it. Finally, one of his hoochies gasps, "Oh look, there it is!" and points excitedly at a tiny, barely visible spot on the car.

Thank God I had Tool's Lateralus in my car.

Did I mention that I got my period ? At work?

I Can't Think of a Witty Title

I am. Obliteratingly. Exhausted. But I'm at work, my "big people job," and just had a lovely lunch with friends and co-workers Amanda and Dorothy. So things are not as dreadful as they might seem, though my naturally curly (aka frizzy) hair is sticking up in fuzzy gobs all over my head and i can feel the grossness of traveling soaking into the clothes I've been wearing since 4 AM this morning. I guess this requires back story. I went to see a friend and I was supposed to be back by last night, but my flight got cancelled and rescheduled for early this morning. Hurrah. Two things that, in my delirious state of exhaustion, annoyed the shit out of me more so than they usually might:

1) The woman on the plane who immediately whipped out her cell as soon as we landed but were still taxi-ing (spelling? and apparently this sort of phone usage is okay now) and started calling friends and colleagues and saying vociferously and repeatedly, "I LI-terally JUST landed." That grating excuse for a woman said it at least 7 times while we were still waiting to park at the gate. And as we were walking out of the plane. And down the escalator to baggage claim. And at baggage claim.

2) What the fuck is going on with propietarily standing around the baggage claim carousel? Everyone is like, oh oh, if I don't stand so close to the goddamned thing that I can TASTE the dirty luggage and slowly rotating metal slats then I won't get my bags!

Sigh. Back to work now.

Self-Imposed Birthday Wishes

Happy Birthday to me! I am officially 24. Birthdays are so unexciting these days. But, a list of people whose birthdays are the same day as mine:

N.B: So fucking weird that Meredith Baxter and Michael Gross, who played opposite each other in Family Ties , have the exact same birthday, down to the year.

1982 Prince William (Prince of Wales)
1973 Juliette Lewis (actress)
1947 Meredith Baxter Birney (actress)
1947 Michael Gross (actor)
1944 Ray Davies (singer, songwriter, guitarist)
1933 Bernie Kopell (actor)
1932 O.C. (Ocie Lee) Smith (singer)
1927 Carl Stokes (TV commentator)
1925 Maureen Stapleton (actress)
1921 Judy Holliday (Tuvin) (actress)
1921 Jane Russell (actress)
1905 Jean-Paul Sartre (philosopher and writer)
1905 Randy Moore (baseball)
1903 Al Hirschfeld (artist)
1731 Martha Washington (Dandridge Custis) (first First Lady of the US)

Check out which famous people were born on your birthday here .