Kicking my Coke Habit

It may be a little late to consider this a New Years Resolution, but I've decided to give up caffeine. I've spent far too many nights channel-surfing at 2:00 a.m., looking for something that I can fall asleep to for five hours. Facing my alarm every morning is a nightmare, which only perpetuates the coffee-clutching cycle. After talking about it (over coffee, funnily enough) with my brother Patrick and his friend Erin, I decided to try giving up the juice.

I'm on Day 3 and it actually feels pretty great. I haven't had any of the dreaded headaches that I've heard so much about and I've found that, so far, I really look forward to bedtime. I start pleasantly winding down at around 10 so I'm ready to turn in at a reasonable hour. I feel like I'm a hippie on juice detox or something.

Of course, it's hard to throw away my love affair for Diet Coke, the international beverage of choice for young women who appreciate its sugar substitutes and the sheer American classic-ness. But I've traded the silver label for gold (an upgrade, I guess?) and it tastes the same, so I'll deal. In the meantime, don't be surprised when I'm not online in the wee hours of the morning. I'll be tucked away, snug as the proverbial bug, while visions of decaf dance in my head.

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P.S. I do realize the irony of posting this at one in the morning, but I don't have class on Fridays so I'll do what I want. Booyah!
P.P.S. I see that blogger is telling the world that I wrote this at 10:45. Blogger is lying to you.

The Project Rundown, Installment One

First of all, I have to direct any Project Runway fans to Project Rungay, my favorite blog in the history of the universe. Two fabulous gay kids dissect every episode, complete with screenshots and cattiness. I’m not sure what they do in between seasons (probably just keep tabs on everyone), but we’re nearing the end of Season 4 so snide reviews of the designers are ripe for the picking.

In honor of the Season 4 finale, I’ve decided to give some awards to this season’s designers in hopes that they might console the losers who won’t be going to Fashion Week.


Most Potential: Simone
When I first heard Simone talking about her signature Victorian-meets-modern aesthetic, I got really excited. I think that mixing the old with the new is a really common concept for designers, but not commonly done right. Simone had a TON of ambition and I really thought she would deliver this season. Until she was eliminated in the first episode. I was really sad.

Best Dressed: Marion
Marion barely edged out Jillian for this category. I had him in my initial Top 3 just because his clothes are so adorable (self-described as “Oliver... with a little Twist”). Looking back, I think I was rooting for him just so I could copy his style for the rest of the season. Tom and Lorenzo at Project Rungay said his Newsies-inspired attire seemed a little bit pedophile-y to them, but whatever. I love little boys too and I’m not ashamed of it.

Best Catchphrase: Carmen
Carmen was eliminated after the menswear challenge (which, I’m sorry, was totally justified) but I’ll never forget what she said to Sarah Jessica Parker in episode 2. “Carmen like the opera, Weber like the baller.” HAHAHA, genius. Then Carmen was a big crybaby at the Season 4 reunion and we all pointed and laughed.

Queen Bitch: Jack
Jack Mackenroth never actually got auf’ed by the judges. He had to leave in episode 4 because of a nasty staph infection. He was funny and really a stand-up guy so it sucked to see him go. However, I just read an interview with The Advocate in which he talked boatloads of trash about my very favorite contestant, Chris (more on Chris in Installment 2). It really reminded me of Season 1's Vanessa Riley, who went bitch-crazy and slammed everyone on the show after she was kicked off. Not classy.

P.S. After Googling pictures for each of these contestants, I've decided that Jack also wins the "put some clothes on" award. I'm pretty sure that has about as many topless pictures on the internet as Tila Tequila. Speaking of which, I had pictures but technology hates me a lot so they'll come later.

Everyone tune in tonight to find out if Sissybear Chris March can beat out Ramilicious Kashou for a Bryant Park show and check back for installments 2+3.

Citizen Journalism!

Hey Sotans,
Apparently there's a fire on Washington Avenue near the Metrodome. It must have started recently, since I was down there about an hour ago and didn't see it. So you might want to put off that trip to the two-story Target and stay off bus route 16.

Sonnet XVII, Pablo Neruda

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so close that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

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Happy Valentine's Day, valentines!

VD: On Valentine's Day

(Haha, get it?)

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. (Now you have no excuse to say you forgot, so don’t even try). Whenever I get visibly excited about it, at least three people give me an eye roll or an “oh my god, I totally, like, hate National Singles Awareness Day because I’m so totally defensive and view it as, like, an assault on my sad life and I love hating everything, blah blah blah face.” My arguments of “but you don’t have to have a sweetie to like Valentine’s Day!” and “just use it as an occasion to show a friend you care!” usually go unheeded.

One of my TAs coined the description “the commodification of intimacy” in class on Monday. I understand her sentiments- the pink and white displays of Spongebob valentines are enough to make even the most ardent supporters of the day (i.e. yours truly) want to throw up a little bit. But it got me thinking. Is the commodification of intimacy really worse than the commodification of Irish heritage or an illegitimate holy child? As a culture, we’ve bastardized all kinds of lovely things and turned them into tickity tack holidays.

A male friend of mine who shall remain anonymous told me, “you have no idea how much pressure there is for guys.” Possible, but I feel like most of that pressure comes from within. Most of the girls I know would be happy just to spend the day with someone special, and maybe a card if the guy’s feeling generous.

So, instead of grumbling through the day tomorrow, why not curl up and watch Ninja Warrior with your SO, or make moon eyes at each other over White Castle cheeseburgers. If you're available, plan something fun with your friends. Two VDay's ago, back when I had girl friends, a bunch of us went to the mall and bought ourselves chocolate and underwear- it was such a blast. Hell, go ahead and just embrace the excuse to eat a ton of pink-frosted cookies. Valentine’s Day is all about love, which, in my book, is definitely something worth celebrating.

My bad.

I apologize for posting so infrequently lately. Between school and the paper I'm writing for, it's hard to find time to squeeze in a shower, let alone some quality blogging. Also, I had an awesome spiel about my hideously awesome black jeans all typed it, but blogger decided to be a tool and mess up the formatting something fierce. So that's coming.

In the meantime, enjoy some of Christian Siriano's fierciest moments:



Coming soon: the promised pants post (love that alliteration) and my predictions for the end of Project Runway, season 4.

Let's Get Political

I'm fortunate enough to attend a University where kids are relatively well-educated about politics, at least on a national level. Although I do actually engage in this sort of thing, I really prefer to take a Toquevillian outside perspective, especially as it's "Super Tuesday" and thousands of students will be flocking to caucuses tonight.

On Sunday evening I had to go to a Hillary Clinton rally at Augsburg college. It was mostly a lot of clapping and yelling, as you'd expect. I did run into Walter Mondale (my hero), though, and he recognized me from his class. Oh, and I also got a press pass, which was summarily stuck to my refrigerator.

Little does anyone know, these people are actually excited because they think they're watching the SuperBowl.

Not to be undone, however, the Obama people hit the campus, presumably overnight, with a little reminder that students lovvvvve the senator from Illinois. I'm pretty sure 75% of the kids on campus would exchange both of their kidneys for an Obama handshake.

Now, I don't know where those minions found a Smurf in Minneapolis, let alone a Smurf with enough coordination to pee the word "Obama" in the snow. But I applaud them and if anyone knows, please let me know. I've been dying to catch up with Gargamel.

Coming Soon: An internship update and my evil plan to bring back the carrot cut.