Ah, WR in an early version of the neurotic ingenue.

You can also try assigning each class/project/act of drudgery to a person in your life or a thing in your life that you want or would rather be thinking about, and tell yourself that what you're really doing when you're editing the bibliography is like picking out an outfit for date night, and writing the thesis is…

Hahaha! Poor kitteh. What movie are you watching?

Argh. Your fears are probably spot-on, but your roommate is also probably in the sullen "don't tell me how I'm feeling" place. I have no advice, just that sometimes things have to get worse before they get better. *gets grumpy for saying trite things*

Agreed. Historical dinners aren't all that uncommon, and I don't think anybody would object to a historical dinner based on what was served on the Titanic a hundred years ago if, say, the Titanic hadn't sank on its maiden voyage (if it sank on the return trip, for example). Because it still would have been a titanic…

I love Ben and Leslie. Their suitability for each other and happiness seems so . . . achievable.

The Open Country of a Woman's Liver, [www.flickr.com]

I think I love you in my Land of Admiration, with vacation properties in Discrimination and Good Sense. When we're hanging out at the southeast coast of my heart, maybe we could take a quick spin to Dandy's Rest? Because THAT sounds like a good time.

Proud descendant of double-cousins, here. Makes genealogy easier!

When you posted the link to her NY mag article, I looked up her Wikipedia page and subsequently stumbled on the news of her reality show. It's a bit, uh, nuts, complaining that the show wasn't mentioned in her piece when the information was so easily available at the time. I didn't think that the two experiences…

hearted!

Holy gross overreaction. I played a similar prank in college. I used a "footstool" I own (there are shoes and jeans on the legs so that the bottom twelve inches look like a person), stuck it in the middle stall in the most higly used bathroom in my dorm, then left it there all day and proceeded to giggle while people…

The first time I read her blog, I thought, "Huh, this reads like fiction. Normal bloggers don't conceive of events and their lives like this. Is she just making things up? Nah, this is linked all over from major websites. If this was fake, surely somebody with the know-how to track down IP addresses and whatnot would…

ARGH!

My dad read all of the Little House books aloud to me, too! After that, we moved on to the American Girl books. He also read a fictional account of Sacajawea's travels aloud to me, but it was written for grown-ups and he skipped over the dirty bits . . . which I promptly read myself as soon as he wasn't looking.

My mom lives in a timezone that is six hours behind mine. She gets drunk-dialed every.single.time I drink. She likes it because I was such a goodie two shoes as a teenager; it is proof that I really am her daughter. I've drunk-dialed my dad only once, and it was when Obama won the election. That's what he gets for…

When I rode bareback, it was because I was cold and wanted to use the horse's body heat to keep my lovely lady pack warm . . . leather is for hot people.

1) The hood is bent; looks like the person jumped on the car bum-first, begging the question: Do nice bums bend hoods?

Seeing a Euchre reference just made my day.

I'm friends with a guy who was one of the backstage coaches on the show. Until I read this, I assumed that my friend's experience with the show distorted his view of "normal," as the blind date he set me up on was decidedly not "normal." He also asked me to do a write-up of all the not-normal things about the guy so…