Sunday, Sunday. so good to me

I'll start out with something of substance.

"When you write, you lay out a line of words....a minder's pick, a woodcarver's gouge, a surgeon's probe. You wield it, and it digs a path you follow. Soon you find yourself deep in new territory...You make the path boldly and follow it fearfully...In your humility, you lay down the words carefully, watching all the angles...Process is nothing; erase your tracks. The path is not the work..." -The Writing Life, Anne Dillard

Basic but concise, Dillard's has been one of my favorite works this quarter, like a Daoist's guide to writing. I recommend this to anyone. Some of the maxims and advice might be redundant, but there are plenty of solid statements and cute, little metaphors in this quick read, so why not?
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One second power outage. At least I wasn't cooking, but it did cause my printer to re-start and we all know how obnoxious that is with the whirring and grinding and awful machine sounds.

Laundry was costly. The dryer, though it ran a 50 minute cycle, still failed to dry my clothes. Thus, they are all laying out on every hanger I own and on every open beam on my bed, making my room look like a sweatshop/meat shop with clothes hanging everywhere instead of meat. This is also contributing to an insanely noticeable temperature increase upon entering my sweatshop.

All the cafes are crowded in Westwood, so I'll just be studying in my apartment as usual. On the bright side, the sky is starting to clear up and turn a lovely shade of blue. Of course, the downside is that I would much rather be outside frolicking around a park somewhere.

My sleep schedule is fan-freakin-tastic!! I'm sticking to the hard and fast rule in trying to wake up around the same time every day regardless of what time I fall asleep. *Pat myself on the back.*

As for some re-caps, Wednesday evening's dineLA experience was pricey and intimidating. I stumbled into Grace restaurant like a giraffe in my boots, sat down and had nowhere to place my strapless bag. Can I just say that clutches suck. They only work if you are famously fancy and participating in awards season with Charlize Theron. I was impressed with the Dungeness crab salad appetizer, but unfortunately, my smiles ended there. I doubt my pallette is sophisticated enough to appreciate the seasoning of the other dishes, but sometimes fancy = bland. The dessert was most disappointing. Supposed to be:

Choice 1 -	Sticky Toffee Pudding - hazelnut gelato, bruleed bananas
Choice 2 -	Salted Caramel Mascarpone Panna Cotta - rum soaked cake, passionfruit, pomegranate

Suffice to say that all the sauces tasted like salted warheads (EW!), passionfruit my a**. I'll take a peanut butter nutella sandwich anyday. The butter knife also amused me throughout the whole dinner. It had a tiny groove on one side, which captivated me because I still cannot figure out why that exists. I even hacked at the butter with the grooved side down as if it were a pickaxe, but to no avail. Accomplishment of the evening: consuming two consecutive dinners. Did I mention that I ate a full dinner with my dad at Acapulco right before the 3-course evening at Grace with Danny? Must satisfy the food god that is my appetite.

On Friday I locked myself out of the apartment, which was great. I called everyone I knew nearby and was taken in by my down-the-hallmates. Both of them went out to parties, leaving me awkward and grateful on their couch watching Seinfeld until I headed out to a birthday dinner. I'd like to think that incidents like these just add character and enrich my life, while providing entertainment for others.

Saturday morning, we checked out the TOMS sample sale, located in a shady but artsy alley at the local HQ. We bought ten pairs total with high hopes that Mr. TOM stands true to his word and donates ten pairs. The shoes themselves don't last too long, but I plan on being cool and wearing them with socks (that don't show of course, I don't want to be a total dork) to prolong wear.

Now, I must tackle WWI poems and Feminism in Our Time: WWII to the Present. Hopefully I can squeeze in The Visitor and The Red Balloon, or I might have to temporarily freeze my Netflix account so as not to waste more money.

my practical 21st birthday wishlist and some whining

Option A. Clocky; because I hate coffee and desperately need this devil of an alarm clock to get me going. (It's on sale!)


Option B. Mr. Egg; because you know you want to see me run around the room chasing a flying egg clock in my cranky state of half-sleep.

Option C. The Puzzler; because you want to hear me curse out a gadget in the morning.


Option D. Mensa. Actually, scratch that. Too much for me. If you buy me this, you'll be demoted to my not cool list for a few days.

Gift option E. *Best deal!* A picture of The Little Engine That Could or Thomas the Tank Engine, so I'll know that somewhere, someone thinks-I-can.
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In other news, everything sucks. Apologies for my fussy-baby 'tude today.

I'm missing out on all of dineLA restaurant week. Ideally, I would be filthy rich, have no classes, and thus enjoy deluxe lunch and dinner every day until it's over. A girl can always dream. The weather is also perfect and lovely. Wah wah wah. Womp Womp.

Tomorrow night, though, Danny and I will be indulging and trying out one of the deluxe dinners. Dress code: casual smart. Seriously, wth does that mean? We're planning on wearing our Sunday bests for fun, because when I pay $44 (excluding tax/tip) for a sample dinner, I want to feel pretty--at least before I start slurping down food and expressing my approval loudly. I'm excited to break in my (designer!) Michael Kors booties--I cheated and paid $30 at DSW, but his name is still on the soles). Then I plan on having Danny critique where my outfit went wrong, since I will attempt to match the rest of my outfit to the trendiness of my shoes, as we enjoy our hopefully delish meal.

Now, I must finish this journal entry on Getrude Stein's Tender Buttons. Oh, would you listen to that play on words? She's affecting me already. Then an American Idol break during which roomie and I will be making our infamous Nestle cookie blob.

Days that Megan has practiced a normal sleeping schedule: 2 and counting...

This is the dawning of the age of...

normalcy and regularity in sleep patterns? Could it be? I really, truly hope so. (I'm not clever enough to come up with witty titles on my own so I've resorted to song lyrics) I lived and breathed through today having gotten a full eight hours of sleep. I'll repeat that. I, Megan, slept eight consecutive hours last night.
Result: I did not do the classy head-bob through either of my English lectures and had a fairly productive time in the CEC office. This would be an appropriate time to start sleeping since I'm twenty, and y'know, over the hill.

The day ended in the most magically delicious way possible. Maral swiped me and Jolanda into Covel and I exploded.
I walked in disoriented with excitement, grabbed every, single plate from every section. Grabbed two cups, one for water and one for Sierra Mist because I knew I would need the bubbly and the H2O to digest the feast that lied ahead.

We discussed Gertrude Stein's Tender Buttons today. WHAT THE HECK?! Whew! Now that I've vented, I do appreciate what she attempted to do with her radical hermetic poetry and employment of catachresis. (Sooo totally vocab-dropping. Imagine me holding a glass of wine at a soiree trying to sound educated and pretentious with those words. Ew, no thank you.) Anyhoo, wiki both and ye shall find answers.

Second lecture on Wilde's Dorian Gray was also interesting. Mainly because of Wilde and the work. ADHD Professor Grossman, though passionate and hyper, barely gets to much analysis in his fifty minutes. As Kev observed, Grossman is basically the non-celebrity version of Will & Grace's Jack McFarland. With every lecture, I'm noticing the likeness more and more and it's disturbing. He also reminds me of Twitchy from HOODWINKED:

I'm serious. He sometimes sounds like that to me, especially when I'm tired.

Oh, yes. Spring quarter schedules and enrollment appointments were posted today. Kill me. I practiced some self-control and restraint in only making one schedule as opposed to five or six variations-hopeful-backups. UCLA does it again, releasing this life-changing information smack during midterms.

All right. Time to read, read, read...my Newsweek Commemorative Inaugural Edition. Obama's beaming face is on the cover, and I can only smile right back atcha (what a cougrrr!), Mr. Prez! Actually, I think I'll wash up, climb into beddy and read myself to sleep...

tonight for the first time, just about a half past ten

for the first time in history (exaggeration)...
I'm going to bed now. Bonne nuit!

miscellany

I fell asleep at 4 a.m. and woke up at 9 a.m. (not voluntarily, just couldn't go back to sleep as hard as I tried). For Megan the bat, I believe that counts as a notFAIL!

Superbowl Sunday. For most, it's beerjunkfoodtouchdowncommercial time. Given that it's midterm week, I was outside for a bit to take advantage of the weather, but now I'm trying to get some work done--operative word being try.

Friday night was full of crazy shenanigans, a 21st birthday among others, so you can already assume that it was an evening of dance, odd smells, party hopping, creepers, slooty drunk girls/sorostitutes, spotting someone with a suspiciously large ziploc of a leafy plantlike substance passing by in a shady alley and exiting a gate. Hm. I think he profited that night. Of course, I held onto my blue "water" cup the entire time and emptied out most of it into a plant somewhere, made a 2 a.m. Ralph's run, picked up those who could not safely walk home, then flew back to my nest where I stayed up the night again.

Before that we wanted to check out this release for Stamp'd LA on Melrose--far too cool urban/scenester-y for me, but the sneakers were suh-weeeet. If only they weren't $110 for a pair! Obvi I don't belong on Melrose, but it's always amusing to see a $139.00 dress on sale for 75% when it still costs less than that discount price. Then there are those scary stores where they desperately wanna sell, but I can't haggle so I just smile awkwardly, say thank you and scurry out the door.

I am happy to say that I am a new fan of Yogurtland thanks to Bobby and Allen, so everyone go try if you haven't!

Maral and I had a ruvery sreepover, with some wholesome chick chatting beforehand when Michelle and Claire stopped by. We finished the box of TJ's spinach and cheese spanakopita. Noms.

Aside from burdensome midterms, the usual hoard of random questions floats around in my head.
::Will the Steelers win?
::What the heck happened in my dream last night? (All I can piece together: American Idol auditions held at the Hollywood Bowl, one of my friends judged alongside Simon Cowell, I kept pulling in and out of different parking spaces because the lot magically turned off your car if you stayed in a space too long...I need a dream interpreter.)
::Should I go to Coachella? All three days?
::Why didn't I buy a Britney Spears concert ticket? What if she dies after her tour (knock on wood) and I never get to see her?
::How come "Girl Talk's hot cousin" is so freakin' amazing? (Thanks yoko!)
::I'm hungry. Okay, not a question, but always relevant.
::What should I eat now?
::Where am I living next year? Megan the nomad?

Here I come, novels! Tender Buttons, Dorian Gray, Writing Life. Blaableebloo. Again, wouldn't mind reading any of these were they not assignments that we have to analyze to the core. Though we plow through countless literary works, it's frustrating that I no longer have time to read for pleasure/leisure. I've also never been able to break up a novel into several chapters a night, which is why I resort to Newsweek and Vanity Fair for start-to-finish reads. On a side note, ever since John Updike passed away, I've wanted to finish his Rabbit series. Mom gave me Rabbit, Run to read when I was quite young, didn't make too much sense then, so I hope to reread that and get through the rest over spring break.

Ah, and thanks to Kevin for this amusing find. I guess if I follow that precisely, I'll at least get a wedding, kids, a house, dogs, and trips to Orlando before dementia and death.

I have never set click on Perezhilton, but I am guilty of visiting the superficial. Proud to say that Soc 1 with Sherwood led me to this treasure of a site. I leave you with healthy Phelps vs. healthy Jessica vs. healthy Lindsay.


I have never set click on Perezhilton, but I am guilty of visiting the superficial. You'll be glad to know that UCLA's Soc 1 with Sherwood led me to this treasure of a site.