THIS IS SO HILARIOUS - read it outloud to someone near you. even if they are sleeping.

treated myself to mcdonald's fries after the gym yesterday. here's what the young black guy behind the register said when i rolled up to the window:

"you know what i'm gonna do one day? i'm gonna order a medium fries, no salt, with caramel dipping sauce."

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currently watching: "la dolce vita," fellini and "curb your enthusiasm" season 1

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i finally finished reading "slouching towards bethlehem" and now i know why all the teachers at the j-school recommended the book. i love joan didion - she is my writing idol. my favorite pieces from this book were "some dreamers of the american dream," "life styles in the golden land," and "goodbye to all that."

I am not sure that it is possible for anyone brought up in the East to appreciate what New York, the idea of New York, means to those of us who came out of the West and the South. To an Eastern child, particularly a child who has always had an uncle on Wall Street and who has spent several hundred Saturdays first at F.A.O. Schwartz and being fitted for shoes at Best's and then waiting under the Biltmore clock and dancing to Lester Lanin, New York is just a city, albeit the city, a plausible place for people to live. But to those of us who came from places where no one had heard of Lester Lanin and Grand Central Station was a Saturday radio program, where Wall Street and Fifth Avenue and Madison Avenue were not places at all but abstractions ("Money," and "High Fashion," and "The Hucksters"), New York was no mere city. It was instead an infinitely romantic notion, the mysterious nexus of all love and money and power, the shining and perishable dream itself. To think of "living" there was to reduce the miraculous to the mundane; one does not "live" at Xanadu.

i highly, highly recommend you read the final chapter, about living in new york. maybe i will scan it up here (screw you copyrights).

things that make me angry
1. people who call me between 5 pm and 8 pm - i'm either still at work, on my way home, or winding down from work. i usually just don't pick up, but sometimes people trick me with blocked numbers or home numbers. to me, that is the number-one rudest time of the day to call someone.
2. runner-up bad time to call me: after 11 pm. i'm in bed, and my phone is on my desk, rattling around. we're not in college anymore; people sleep early.
3. people who can't even make the effort to reply to emails i send them asking them if they want to do someting. a simple "i can't" or "i'm not sure" is fine. if not, i don't know if you're in or not or whether to follow up or if you somehow missed the email.
4. people who ask me about details to something that i've already given them details to. people need to write stuff down or get a planner or a palm or something.
5. people who call me at work to ask me about frivolous things that have nothing to do with me and could easily be communicated in an email at my leisure.
6. actually, change that - people who call me at work, period.
7. having to celebrate people's birthdays for more than two days - i can handle the day of someone's birthday PLUS one weekend day. anything more is really ridiculous. and i totally expect the same for my own birthday.
8. people who, when two people can't decide on something, suggest a third option which is totally not favorable to the first two options.
9. people who change plans at the last minute!!!!!!

h&m san francisco review
post street is better for ladies.
i love you, stella.
i now own a hot pink zebra printed article of clothing. and you may or may not see it someday.

and if you think i'm lame, let me leave you with a sign i spotted at best buy tonight around 6 pm - "line for xbox 360 forms here."

and there were four dudes in line already.

for every woman who's been harassed on the street

currently watching
(while blazed and eating chips)

also, here's a scan of the filipinas article

(fixed it, minnie)

new interview up on the front page of the website

top reasons i feel like i work at wernham-hogg
1) the day the publisher announced there would be layoffs happened to be halloween. of course, some people were dressed up, including my co-fellow, who was dressed as a troubled teen. while everyone sat there somberly in shock, he sat there with blue runny eyeliner, slicked back hair and baggy clothes.
2) "we have a problem with the VIP mugs." there are these mugs that are kept in the office kitchen that are for guests, but they're also available for everyone to use. however apparently they're never there when guests visit, so every time that happens, the HR person sends out a very serious staffwide email with the above line. she sounded so exasperated in the last email that she called for suggestions about what to do about The Problem. TPS reports, anyone?
3) other reports of missing items sent to the entire staff include a missing bowl ("please return it - no questions asked") and a missing coat hanger ("why is this OK?" he wrote).
4) the online editor is paying me a decent hourly rate to transcribe some of his interviews. i'm working on one between him (a brit) and an international law expert (another brit). they're using some phrases i don't understand ("cottoning on," "whistlestop tour," etc.), which is fine, but this is the kicker: in asking a question, he actually said, "what sayeth you?"

WHAT SAYETH YOU.

make no mistake - i listened to it three times. maybe he was saying, "what do you think?" or "what's your opinion?" NO. he said WHAT SAYETH YOU. and he did NOT say "what say you?" because that shit's ungrammatical.

so the question is: do i write "what say you?" and risk him catching me trying to correct his odd british foppery? or do i transcibe it faithfully and risk looking like a total asshole about it?

why is life so difficult?

my birthday wish list

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I'M GOING TO BE A MAID OF HONOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HILARIOUS column about coldplay

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a moving story by another of my favorite writers

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skinny fucking jeans

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why are there so many journalists with adopted asian children?

"kanye was right" tee shirts

if anyone really wants one, let me know and we can order together.

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also bored of the beckhams: aburrida de las beckham (the yellow women's one) is my favorite

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l.a. times on laguna beach

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also check out the november issue of filipinas at your local borders (in the international section probably) - i've got a feature story in there. i'll post it if it ever comes online.

laurie's engaged!

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balance ball chair, i love you!

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people who post pics of their new haircuts - hate it or love it? anyways, mine is rockin, so i have a good excuse.



trying out my top model looks...jules is awesome!

stella mccartney, i'm counting the days.

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fill in the blank

Steve is troubled by a lot of things. He is twenty-three, was raised in Virginia, and has the idea that California is the beginning of the end. "I feel it's insane," he says, and his voice drops. "This chick tells me there's no meaning to life but it doesn't matter, we'll just flow right out. There've been times I felt like packing up and taking off for the East Coast again, at least there I had a target. At least there you expect that it's going to happen." He lights a cigarette for me and his hands shake. "Here you know it's not going to."

I ask what it is that is supposed to happen.

"I don't know," he says. "Something. Anything."

california special election: "nix the first six!"
NO on Props. 73-78
YES on Props. 79-80

baby's first halloween


(click me for more)

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enough said.

laguna beach yearbook!
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judge a guy by what he drinks!...but he will judge you more.

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great, great analysis (by one of my favorite columnists) of the new nba rules about what players can wear off the court.

Few phrases offer more mixed messages or feel more inherently contradictory than the term "ghetto fabulous." Though meant to be more insouciant and somewhat distinct from the dreary thug/gang/prison wear the NBA is taking to task, the "ghetto fabulous" aesthetic is black cultural appropriation of the worst kind, primarily because it believes it is the best kind. It believes that flaunting riotous color, fake nails, weaves and bling jewelry, or flaunting some versions thereof, pays homage to black people rather than insulting them. It openly fetishizes the ghetto as a fashion trend, a boutique to be browsed through and picked over rather than a real place that nobody ever wants to visit, let alone live in.

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how many features are written by women in major magazines

snippets from today
tan: "this guy jamie had a thing with was at the party."
me: "who was he?"
tan: "the hamburglar."

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mamabasco: "hey, where are you going to dinner tonight?"
me, suspicious: "why?"
mamabasco: "what neighborhood?"
me: "why?"
mamabasco: "are you going anywhere near the mall?"
me: "yeah."
mb: "oh yeah? any chance you could get me something?"
me: "just tell me what you want and i'll decide whether or not i want to get it!!"
mb: "gummy spiders."

jack o'pics
from the weekend. spoooky! also, some of jamie's here.

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jenny is in this month's cosmogirl!

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also, a plug: