Kay's new job

Kay landed her dream gig at The Bark magazine.



She's going to be their new Senior Editor. Daisy might even get to join her in the office on some days. Sadly, this means that I will be a little bit lonelier at work, but I understand that everyone has to follow her dreams. Kay is destined to make it big in the world of pooch publications. I can't hold her back.

Another cute guy

Baby Jack (better known to some of you as Bucky) has been doing his baby thing for the past couple weeks -- sleeping, eating, and generally hanging out. I haven't had a chance to get many details from Clare, but she said everyone is healthy and she sounds very happy.

My latest crush

Dear lord, he's dreamy!

PostSecret

I read about this blog in a New York Times article this morning and it's pretty cool. People confess their secrets by sending handmade postcards to the blogmaster. A new batch of secrets gets posted every weekend.

So far, this one is my favorite. It speaks to me.

Two months single

I've recently passed the two-month mark as a single woman. Because single is not my standard state, it's been a somewhat unique two months in the life of RB. I must admit that things out here in the single world aren't that different. The biggest difference is the lack of predictability. Life follows a much stronger routine when you're a half of a couple. I don't mean for "predictable" or "routine" to have a negative connotation here. "Predictable" and "routine" also usually go along with focused, healthy, and productive.

Over the last two months I've definitely had a much higher rate of really weird stuff happen (both weird = funny/entertaining and weird = uncomfortable/sketchy). I'm not sure why this is. Do people actually react to single women differently? Or am I the one reacting differently? It's probably a combination, paired with the onslaught of unfamiliar situations.

Being single seems to mean that everyone you encounter wants to talk about your love life or how you could develop one. Maybe except for your closest friends, who get sick of hearing you obsess about it. Single life also seems to involve spending a lot more money... Not entirely sure what what it's spent on, though. A lot more taxi rides, for one. Extra fees for sending too many text messages, for two.

It's probably a bad sign, but I'm already frustrated the whole dating concept. It seems ridiculous to me that you could find someone that you like enough to eventually partner up with by having a series of dinners or drinks with virtual strangers. If nothing else, it's totally inefficient.

Henna hands

There was a mendhi guy at the party I went to last night and he did me up with some little leafy designs:




The henna goes on as a paste and you have to let it dry for about 40 minutes or else it will smear and stains things. By the end of the night it had dried and flaked off, leaving the stained-on patterns. They're supposed to stay for several days. In retrospect, mendhi is kind of a weird thing to have going on at a loud, crazy, dance-type party, because of the mess factor. I am astounded and pretty proud of myself for managing to keep it off my clothes, hair, and friends.

Embracing new technology

Two technological miracles have recently joined my life. They're not really new, just new to me: the HP 12C financial calculator and instant messaging. One of these new toys is working for me and the other is working against me.

Promoting my general well being is the HP 12C.



I never thought I would say it, but financial calculators are freakin' amazing. I just reread that last sentence and realized that I am the biggest dork in the universe, but at this point the HP 12C and Finance Tutor James are only thing standing between me and a finance-related panic attack. If you know any four of these five factors:

periods
interest rate
present value
payment amount
future value

The HP 12C will automatically give you the fifth number. It even displays this little "running" screen for awhile that implies it needs to think about such a tough problem and you might not be a complete idiot for needing to use the calculator in the first place.

Meanwhile, instant messaging is turning me into an unproductive
sloth -- but what a guilty pleasure! Anyone in grad school should definitely consider downloading the IM business, because it enables you to have complete conversations about the professor, the lecture, other classmates' outfits, your date last weekend, what you want for dinner, etc. during class, and the whole time you kinda look like you're taking notes. Please no comments about the fact that I should be taking notes. I know I should be taking notes.

If you're on AOL Instant Messenger, please send me your special little IM name immediately.

The Hoff at his finest

Matty K. just sent me this link and it is absolutely the funniest thing I have seen in weeks. Weeks! Love the Hoff, love this song. This gem appears to have some strong Bollywood influences going on. I'd also like to point out the pleasantly creative use of wiener dogs.

I dedicate this posting to Kim, Clare, Chris, and my fond memories of blasting the Reservoir Dogs soundtrack version of Hooked on a Feeling on chilly, early mornings back in Tacoma. I'm sure Kim doesn't have such fond memories of those mornings, but I like to reminisce about singing along in our freezing upstairs bedrooms and then Clare giving me stick-shift lessons on the way to campus, coffee spilling everywhere along the way.

Note: The first time I ran the video, it slowly downloaded and got all choppy, but then it ran perfectly the second time through. Not a problem since it's worth watching at least three times.

Nadia thinks our apartment is haunted

It's a good thing she didn't tell me any of this before my roomies went away last weekend, leaving me to fend for myself. Thank god they're back.

Photos of Bucky

It turns out that Bucky's real name is Jack. Jackson Henry, to be specific. Check out the pictures of him that Clare's friend Mary sent. He is rosy-cheeked and adorable! I'm not a baby person, but I am totally wishing that I was in D.C. right now so I could squeeze him (in a gentle, loving way).

What is happening here?

Since when is boob-grabbing an acceptable red carpet activity? Since never. I don't care if you are Scarlett Johansson and a fashion designer. I'm desperate to know what the build up was to this scene... "Who are you wearing tonight, Scarlet? Where's Josh? At home? In that case, can I feel you up?"

If you watched the Golden Globes red carpet show, please fill me in!

Wal-mart is really bad

As usual, I'm a little bit behind the curve. I had heard plenty about the fact that Wal-mart is destroying America and we're not supposed to shop there. I didn't take it too seriously, though. I'm not a regular Wal-Mart shopper, but I have made some occasional purchases -- mostly on the way to or from summer camping trips. It's hard not to when things are so miraculously cheap.

Ever since I stayed up late watching The Wedding Crashers, I haven't been able to get the cable to work on our TV. My roommates were gone all day, so my only option this afternoon was to watch another DVD. The one I chose was Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price. I usually can't sit through documentary films like this without getting super fidgety, because they always seem so extremely biased and that bugs me. Michael Moore is the worst. Biased or not, this Wal-Mart film is pretty convincing. I certainly won't be shopping at Wal-Mart any more and feel pretty guilty about the cooler and pink cowgirl hat that I bought there last summer.

I guess the most shocking thing is that while turning huge profits, Wal-Mart instructs its employees to use government programs like Welfare and Medicare/Medicaid, instead of paying workers enough to be able to afford food or health care. A UC Berkeley study calculated that Wal-Mart employees cost California tax payers approximately $86 million per year. Now I know why things at Wal-mart are so miraculously cheap.

Bucky's big day and Becky's long day

This day has been one of the most exciting and one of the most long and boring in recent RB history, all at the same time. It started a little before 6 am, when Clare called to tell me that her water broke and they were in the hospital waiting for the baby to come.

I proceeded to drink coffee, study, blog, do house chores, read, talk on the phone, read more, and study some more, all the while waiting patiently for news of Bucky. I was surprised by how completely distracting it was to know that across the country one of my best friends was going through one of the biggest events of her life. I was anxious all afternoon and there wasn't much I could do to get my mind of off it. I couldn't leave the apartment. It was a struggle not to call them every two seconds to check in to find out if anything had happened. Time ticked slowly by...

Ross called a little after 7 pm. Everyone is happy and healthy and Clare is now the mom of a baby boy, who, for the time being, will continue to be known as Bucky. They haven't settled on a boy name, yet, and are still discussing the options. Though I know that Clare will not approve, a part of me hopes that we can continue to call him Bucky for awhile. Maybe just until age five? I've become attached to the nickname over the past months and I feel like it's served Bucky well, like a good luck charm.

I really hope it's just a phase

Top ten stupid things I have done in the last week:

10. Neglected to make plans to go away over the long holiday weekend.
9. Forgot to bring deodorant to the gym.
8. Bought an $80 financial calculator that I don't know how to use.
7. Another shot of Jager.
6. Stayed up past 3 am watching The Wedding Crashers on a school night.
5. Bounced a check.
4. Bounced a another check.
3. Left my VISA card at a bar, forgetting to close out my tab.
2. Locked myself out of the apartment at 2:30 am in the rain.

Drumroll please...

1. Fell while jaywalking against oncoming traffic. We're talkin' total face plant. I've got the big, ugly bruises to prove it.

Next week has got to be better.

Authors aren't real

In the last week, there's been a rash of popular authors being exposed as not what they seemed to be. First, it came out that JT Leroy, a Bay Area literary celebrity, does not actually exist. Leroy' most popular work is probably his collection of short stories, The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things, but he had published two other books and also written for The New York Times. Leroy's fame was based on his experiences as a teen prostitute, drug addiction, recovery, and the later revelation that he had been infected with HIV. It turns out that the person who had appeared as Leroy in public is actually a woman, and no one is really sure who wrote the books. Leroy's agent, publisher, and many celebrity friends were all unaware of the hoax.

I also read today James Frey admitted that his memoir A Million Little Pieces, which was an Oprah Book Club book and thus a best seller, is not entirely true. Apparently his twenties were not quite as edgy and criminally inclined as he wanted his readers to believe.

Some would argue that if something is being packaged a a memoir, it should be true. I say that in the media world all bets are off. If my subscription to Us Weekly has taught me anything, it is that nothing about celebrities is real. It's all constructed to make them sell. That's why publicists, stylists, and image consultants get paid. Authors are just another type of celebrity.

The shocker in these two scenarios is that the publishers and agents were unaware of the hustle, but I'd argue that if they had known they wouldn't have done anything differently. It's common practice for a publisher to advise an author to take up a pen name if they think their real name is unmarketable. It's not unusual for the pen name to imply a gender that the author doesn't subscribe to. Memoir is all based on someone's memory, right? Memory is fragile and subject to individual perspective. The line between those memories that are true and right and those that aren't is a very blurry one.

These people got their art out there, which is becoming increasingly hard to do in a publishing environment that is necessarily focused on the bottom line. They worked the system. I don't have a problem with that. Like the Internet, you shouldn't believe everything you read in books, anyway.