Saphhous

Fantastic.

Bob Dylan concert last night. More on that later. Quote: "That lady just shoved her books in your face." "Yeah, she's done it twice today already."

I'm going home today. Plane out at 3:30. Have a good break everybody.

I never thought there could be another person in the world who looked like me. However, this girl looks somewhat similar.

Damnit, Mike

A: First, recommend to me:
1. a movie:
2. a book:
3. a musical artist, song, or album:

B: I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more, no less. Ask me anything you want.

C: Then I want you to go to your journal, copy and paste this allowing your friends to ask you anything.

Saddle shoes

One year, I wanted saddle shoes. I wanted them bad. I don't know why; I was six or seven and why didn't matter. But I got those saddle shoes. Black and white. I wore them all the time. I think it was the same year I dressed up as a '50s girl in a poodle skirt — and got to wear my saddle shoes.

I remember sitting on the bus, wearing those shoes. It was a long ride home and I was one of the last kids to get off. By the time we neared my house, my friends were gone and there were just a couple of other kids scattered around. I had a whole seat to myself. I loved sitting against the window, so there I was, back to the window, second seat from the front. To my excitement, the saddle shoes had a little telephone pad on the bottom.

Now, I don't know whose idea that was, but it sure was a good one. Instead a boring tread, the sole of the shoe had little raised circles with little raised numbers in them. I pressed them. Bent over double and held my foot up to my head and talked to myself. I pressed more buttons. Talked to more people. Through my saddle shoes.

I was only six or seven, and it was a long ride home.

12:29 a.m.

Journalist on trial for not disclosing source

Yup, kiddos, this could be important. NYT.

8:40 p.m.

Addendum: Amazon wishlist. (So I don't lose the link.)

O'Reilly

Not much to say, except Bill O'Reilly thinks Bill Clinton should be appointed Secretary of Defense. Maybe he's not such an idiot. Or maybe he just needs someone to make fun of. Either way, it's a good idea.

New day ...

Too bad it's a Monday. I promised Dan a new post last night, so here it is. In the last post, I was just grumpy because I hadn't eaten all day and couldn't find anyone to eat with. I'm actually in a pretty good mood.

Thursday I sat around on my ass; I did some shopping around, hung out at Snitch for a few hours, and otherwise wasted time. Friday I sat at the doctor's for hours, then went to Churchill to catch a couple of races. It was pretty chilly out, so we didn't stay long. And no, I didn't bet any money. Saturday was family visiting day — Eric's and both of mine. Then I got back here midday yesterday and did some homework.

I do appear to be getting better, my throat didn't hurt when I woke up today. But starbucks is calling my name, so I'm going to stop here ... I have another JO assignment to post and maybe the under-development Cardinal masthead.

In the meantime, my fellow journalists, check out this site. They have the front page image for over 250 papers, every day. Look for the NYT, LA Times, Hartford Courant (a beautiful paper), St. Pete Times, the Post ... There's tons of good ones up there. It's interesting to see what papers ran what stories lede — and see which ones used the same picture as their main photo. (Today I saw a couple of the big papers running the same one.) (Hey, Mal, do you remember that day we went to Lexington and we saw that the Herald-Leader and the C-J ran the same photo?)

9:48 a.m.

There goes the neighborhood.

To counter the positive effect of Ashcroft's departure from the administration, Powell is leaving. I'd be sadden by the announcement if I hadn't been expecting it since before election day. Damn. Even more depressing, Safire is leaving the Op-Ed page of the NYT. He will continue to write his Sunday column, which I one day plan to read regularly, "On Language."

1:15 p.m.

Alright.

The promised stuff. Cardinal Masthead. The red is off, I don't know why, really. It should be Pantone warm red. My movie-review-that's-not-a-review for the Russian film "The Return" is here, in .pdf format to preserve the Russian characters (I hope).

1:50 p.m.

Damn.

This place is cold and lonely and I hate it.

In other news, I bought this. I'm excited. I plan on buying business clothes soon, too, and I'm going to dress all professional all the time. It'll be awesome. I'm thinking knee-length a-line skirts, button up shirts, pearls and heels. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.

Mal took me to the Cardinal offices on Saturday. I like 'em. It's going to be good times. How could it not be?

Furniture should be in the apartment by the time I go back home in nine days. I need to figure out how to get my stuff from Boston to Kentucky. I can't believe it's almost over already, but then again, I'm thankful. Sorry kids, but I'm just not enjoying this.

Oh, yeah. The doctor doesn't know what's wrong with me. It's not strep or bronchitis or pneumonia, they said. Then they decided to treat me for strep anyway, because the test is only 60-70 percent accurate. Blah. I just want to know why my throat only hurts at night.

Go cards!

I've officially been accepted to UofL.

Weekend!

It was a good weekend, mostly. A little hectic, but it wasn't school hectic. I bought things: an entertainment center, a green suede slipcover for the couch, an eight-piece pots and pans set (stainless steel with aluminum/copper bottoms!), groceries ... Man, I sound like such a ... fuddy-duddy grown up.

I spent way too much time shopping and it eventually got to me and I got stressed out. Especially after grocery shopping at a popular store during very popular hours — Sunday evening. Ugh.

So now it's Monday. Snitch Savannah went under, apparently, and Northern Kentucky is going to a monthly schedule. That lightens my load for this week, which is good since I also have Folk Songs practice tonight and I need to at least watch a movie (if I can find it) for JO tomorrow.

I forgot that there are no classes on Thursday. Whoo-hoo Veteran's Day! So I retract my "staying in Boston till Thanksgiving" statement. I'm going home Wednesday and coming back Sunday. I'm excited. Eric has Friday and Saturday off. And maybe I'll go get this cough of mine checked out.

Alright. I need to eat and work. I wish I was at the apartment so I could cook with my new pans ... Oh, I can procrastinate a little more by updating the Birthday/Christmas list. If you want to buy me things, I'll gladly give you the url.

1:08 p.m.

Erg.

I always feel like I'm running behind and I'm just trying to catch up. I don't like it. I wish I could just stop time for a few days, so I can get caught up and get some relaxation time. Wednesday, here I come!

5:56 p.m.

Mornings.

Let me just say, because it's been on my mind, that mornings at home are going to rock. True, I'll probably have to get up earlier than I do here. But my bathroom floor won't be wet, I'll have a coffee pot and a well-stocked kitchen. Which will be great on days like these when I would kill for biscuits, scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon and coffee. Ohhhhhhhhh ... Saturday morning, here I come.

Election.

Well, now everybody wants to move to Canada. That seems like the cheap way out. Just leave, let Bush do his thing, let the conservatives run the country into the ground. It'll happen, because everyone else will have left and the Republicans will just do whatever they want. Now, granted, you guys won't be here for it. But you're going to go somewhere else that's not quite as good, not as strong. (Yeah, Canada has free healthcare, which is awesome, but it's cold. And there are moose.)

Now, let's keep in mind that I don't like a lot of things about this country. However, I think the other ones all suck more. At least here I'm free to say I don't like the economy, the president, my taxes, whatever. So I'll stay put. And I'll take Wonkette's advice, when readers asked her about moving. You can go, but that's giving up. Wimps. Her best advice: "Popping vicodin and drinking for four years: Well, it worked the first time."

Revised.

New lede. New suggestions welcome. Is this one any clearer, or should I just give up my food-related analogy altogether? I feel if I don't do something, the piece is going to start off as a boring court piece nobody will want to read.

Supposedly courts serve up justice like Starbucks does coffee. But like ordering from the Starbucks menu, the court system isn't exactly simple. Like getting whole milk instead of skim, mistakes can happen in the courtroom. An incorrect affidavit, a coerced witness, an overzealous judge — all these things can change the outcome of a case. You may not object if things go in your favor, say, if you get a venti instead of a grande, but otherwise, head over to the Court of Appeals.

6:39 p.m.

Update: New version of story uploaded. Read it here.

8:10 p.m.