Things I Like #4

Self-Referential Art

There are many self-referential works of art that I enjoy, including "Arrested Development", JK Rowling's Beedle the Bard, and Warhol's silk-screens. But this new find combines my love of Hipster Preps and 80s Rock Stars: Vampire Weekend and Peter Gabriel.

I loves me some Vampire Weekend, but I also am loyal to the 80s rock my parents raised me on. Thus, when I found out about a certain inter-mixing yesterday, I realized I had witnessed a Christmas miracle. That's right ladies and gentlemen, Peter Gabriel has finally covered the VW song in which he is so lovingly name-dropped: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa". His version is charmingly ironic; instead of saying "But this feels so unnatural/Peter Gabriel too", he sings, "It feels so unnatural/to sing your own name". GENIUS!

The Blizzard: Day 8

8 DAYS! I've survived over one foot of snow, my parents' constant Weather Channel updates, freezing rain, excruciating boredom, driving, watching all 5 Harry Potters, Christmas shopping at the mall with half the stores closed, bad TV, not being able to see any friends who live outside of the neighborhood, and NOT HAVING A CHRISTMAS TREE. You heard right team players, NO CHRISTMAS TREE. It's quite sad. We have two Charlie Brown trees--they are the miniature Christmas trees we bought last year and failed to plant (I guess laziness paid off for my family)--but we don't have a REAL Christmas tree.

Yesterday the father-unit and I went on a trek to find a Christmas tree. We walked through a foot of ice-covered snow (my climber father said it was "avalanche snow", which certainly boosted my morale), but did not get a tree. There were a few tree places open, but we forgot to bring a sled to drag one home with. Trees, it turns out, are very heavy when iced over. It was a blow to the Christmas spirit, let me tell you. It looks like it might start to thaw out on Tuesday, so perhaps we will take the opporunity to escape the neighborhood and find a tree.

PLEASE STOP SNOWING! kthnxbye

Things I Like #3

Riccardo Marzi collections

Riccardo Marzi is this sort of expensive/kitschy, faux-high art decorative dinner-ware from Tuscany. When I get married, this is going to be at the top of my gift-list. I saw his stuff in Italy (they have a baller outpost in Florence that lets you see how they--along with other local artisans--make all the stuff: http://www.maestridifabbrica.it/), but they also sell it at Mamma Ro/La Vita Vera, a FABULOUS Italian ceramics importer on Portland's NW 23rd: http://www.mammaro.us/store_locations.htm. Back to Riccardo Marzi. The charming English translation of the Italian website says that Signore Marzi was "grown among craftsmen" in the artistically fertile hillsides outside Florence, but basically he just tweaked the centuries long Tuscan ceramics tradition by "floating" natural objects in high-quality resin platters, bowls, picture frames, lamps, vases, napkin rings--you name it, Riccardo makes plastic molds of it.

Anyway, judging by the Italian website's layout and flowery language, it seems like Marzi might be the Thomas "painting with light" Kincaid of Italy, but whatevs, I loves me some resin platters! And so does the Museum of Modern Art: http://www.momastore.org/museum/moma/ProductDisplay_River%20Stones%20Bowl_10451_10001_24373_-1_11515_11518_null__6H101

If anyone is curious, here are my favorite pieces:

Summertime

Wild Flowers

My all-time favorite is the Wheat and Oranges. Please, someone who loves me, buy me this collection!

OMFGGGGGG, I want it!! Can't you just imagine hosting amazing dinner parties with all this stuff casually displayed on the table or hung on one of the dining room walls? Someday my dream will come true! Even better, perhaps I will marry into the family (he has a son named Andrea) and I will kill two of my dreams with one stone: marring an Italian man and owning a full set of Marzi decorative wear.

The Blizzard: Day 2

Well, my friends, I am housebound for a second day due to The Blizzard. From the way the newsanchors and weatherpersons are talking about it, you would think this storm is as big as the one that made Santa resort to using Rudolph.

Today I ventured out into the icy world to retrieve mail for my mother. No, my mother could not wait until the snow and ice melted to get her mail; she needed contact from the outside world to keep her from getting cabin fever. Therefore, dutiful daughter that I am, I pulled on socks, rain boots, ski pants, two sweatshirts, mittens, my Northface, a scarf, and a flappy-ear hat just to make my way down the driveway to the mail box. It is trecherous territory out there, my friends. I felt just like our beloved Yukon Cornelius and his ragtag team of puppies (a St. Bernard, wiener dog, lassie dog, scottie dog, and beagle, apparently). The trek was long and hard (that's what she said), and I wasn't sure I'd make it there and back. But, lo and behold, I did not slip or drop the mail, and my mother was somewhat appreciative when I returned. Sadly, the two pieces of mail I risked life and limb for were 1) a maid service flyer and 2) a credit card offer. Great. All in all, it was a successful mission and got me out of the house for a few moments.

SNOW DAY! TAKE YOUR TOP OFF! WOOOOO!

It's been snowing since early this morning and we have about 2 inches at my house, 3-4 in the big drifts. I could pee my pants I'm so happy, but I don't want to mar the whiteness.

As a child of the Northwest, I am used to one real snow day per year. Every once in awhile we got lucky, like the year I was a junior in high school and we were out for an entire week due to snow and ice. My bestfriendneighbor Liz and I spent the week building a ginormous, fabulous snow fort. We used the recycling bins as molds for bricks. It was glorious. It was exactly the experience we were never granted as children. Honestly, I can't ever remember having more than 2 inches as a child. Sledding was difficult and usually consisted of falling of the sled and skidding down the hill, getting dirty from the slush-snow mix that formed on the concrete. Snow days usually culminated in a big wipe out, after which my mother slapped band aids on Liz and me and gave us hot chocolate. But the snow week of 2004 was epic; we sled without injuring ourselves, we made snow people that didn't melt the next day, our fort held together with real snow and not that powdery shit, we tramped around in dirty boots and wearing several coats. By the end of the week we hadn't showered at all and were totally sick of the snow and the ordeal of putting on layer after layer of protective clothing.

I've had a couple fun snow days in college. It was enjoyable watching friends from Hawaii flip out when they saw snow for the first time our freshman year. Sophomore year we took cafeteria trays and sled down the many campus hills. We had an epic snow ball fight in the quad, we raced around and cracked the ice that grew on the surface of the fountain's pond. Best of all, the roommate and I opened our windows and stuck our heads out to catch snow flakes on our tongues. Then we had peppermint schnaaps in hot chocolate and proceeded to get tipsy to that wonderful holiday classic "Elf".

Last year we had a white Christmas in Portland. Both my parents have lived in Ptown their whole lives and it was their first white Christmas. Liz and I ran around after opening presents and got all soggy. We had disgusting hair and wind chapped faces for the rest of Christmas.

And now, 2008. It's the first day of Christmas Break and I'm at home and every thing is white and magical! I was the first one up and I totally forgot that it was supposed to snow, so when I opened the blinds and all was white as far as the eye could see, I was a little verklempt. No cars had ventured out yet, so the streets were a clean field of white. I put on boots and a coat and ran around outside with the five year olds for a few minutes before coming back inside and drinking hot chocolate and putting on Christmas music so that my parents would wake up and enjoy the snow day with me. Just because it's snowing doesn't mean I become any less passive agressive. La famiglia has been having a very idyllic snow day so far. Rockwell would be proud. We all sat in the family room and read the paper, drank hot chocolate, played with the cat, put out more seed for the little birds and squirrels, and went on a snow walk through the neighborhood. Snow apparently makes the parents and I happy to spend extended amounts of time together.

I plan on spending the rest of the day putting up Christmas decorations and checking how much snow has accumulated every hour on the hour. My dad propped a yardstick up against the house so we could scientifically know the precise amount of snow that has fallen. Snow is the only time that my mother and I show any interest in my father's science experiments, so he is capitalizing on the moment. Coffee cake and hot chocolate are currently being offered to me by my mother, and thus I must run.

Peace beezies, enjoy the snow day if you're so lucky to have it!

Birthday!

Thanks for everyone's birthday wishes and special thanks to everyone who showed up last night for the festivities. Even MORE thanks to those who bought me drinks. My first few hours as a 22 year old have been wonderful!

Things I Like #2

Things I Like

There was a request for this entry of "Things I Like", so here it is:

Celebrity Children.

Why do I like the spawn of Hollywood hotties? First, they usually have two attractive stars as parents, which means they are DOUBLY adorable and will eventually be a SUPER hottie (unfortuntely, this is not always the case. Ahem, Rumer Willis). Second, at the age of three, they are wearing more expensive and fashionable clothing items than me. Third, they're hammy for the cameras, unlike their world-weary celebrity parents who no longer smile for the cameras when they're grocery shopping. Their children, however, always smile when a photog is snapping a picture of them with mommy and daddy after their Scientology session. Fourth, they're cute, they're sassy, and I don't have to actually interact with them. As many Team Lara fans know, I enjoy looking at small children, I enjoy small childrens' miniature clothing and shoes, I enjoy the concept of small children, but I rarely enjoy spending large quantities of time with small children. They yell, they get messy, they cry, they whine...In short, they are far too much like me. However, looking at pics of and reading articles about celebrity children satisfies my enjoyment of cute, quiet, polite, independent, well-dressed small children without facing the reality that children are never any of these things.

Here are my favorite celebrity children. This is based off of rigorous research from a scholarly journal called "Perez Hilton".

• Cruz Beckham: he is the youngest son of David (may-jah hottie) and Victoria (member of the first favorite band) and he break-dances. Enough said.


• Shiloh Jolie-Pitt: on principle, I don't want to fawn over Shiloh because I have serious reservations about her mother (she seems like a wonderful mother, but she once drank her husband's blood and made out with her brother--two facts that are hard to forget); but, one look at those eyes and those outfits and I am oohing and ahhing over her. She'll probably end up being a rock star. I also really like that she carries her baby doll around with her and that she seems like a laid back, California baby. When Shiloh grows up, I'd rather hang with her than Suri, I'll be honest.
  
  
  


• Suri Cruise: mostly I am fascinated because she really should not exist. Who in a million years would imagine that Tom Cruise would get with sweet little Dawson's Creek girl and create a Scientology baby who wears Burberry? Anyone? Me neither, but he did and it's awesome. I love Suri because she seems perpetually pissed off, and it's hard to maintain that kind of attitude at the age of two. I like that she never wears pants, and that she enjoys stuffed animals. I covet her Burberry and Pucci jumpers. I appreciate that she's an only child. I like her stylish bob and her bangs. I like her painted nails.

• Violet Affleck: OH MY GOD! She is hands down my favorite celebrity child. If I have children, I hope that mine is as cute and sweet and quiet-looking as this one. She is never not smiling in pictures, she wears cute, yet not outlandish (ahem, Suri) clothes, she plays on jungle gyms, she has curly blonde hair, she has dimples, I've never seen a picture of her crying or looking pissy, she has two major hotties as parents, and she is going to be a big sister. CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE (and so well-behaved)!
  
  

• Cara, Maddy, Aaden, Collin, Joel, Hannah, Leah, and Alexis Gosselin: technically, these are not celebrity children because they are famous due to a reality show in which TLC captures what it is like to live in a family with two sets of multiples. But whatever, I am still hopelessly devoted to these little trouble makers (who really don't make as much trouble as eight kids could if they set their minds to it). I love them (with the exception of Maddy, but more on that later) because they wear cute clothes, they are incredibly photogenic, they mumble and have made-up words, they all have little personalities, they have one special characteristic that makes it easy for me to remember who is who, they seem to like each other, they don't appear to be hellions (again, excepting Maddy), and none of them has a tantrum without some merit--if I were one of eight, I would flip out from time to time, too. They are all adorable and I would be totally star-struck if I ever saw them in an airport flying to Hawaii or Florida or Colorado or any of the other million places TLC has sent them this season as a means of getting higher ratings.
  

I'm not going to lie, though, I do have favorites. I adore Alexis, Hannah, and Aaden. I would rather gouge my eyes out than spend time with Maddy, who seems to be a total attention whore at the age of 8. God help the Gosselin parents when she is 16. Cara, her twin sister, is pretty cute, too; sadly, Collin and Joel are pretty whiney and lacking personalities, and Leah just pales in comparison to Hannah ("Hannie") and Alexis. Reasons why I love Alexis: she's sassy, she doesn't sleep, she is a little bossy, she is cuddly, and she loves her stuffed alligator. Reasons why I love Hannah: she's the girliest, she won't let Kate cut her hair, she wears adorable clothes, she makes really cute facial expressions, and she's helpful around the house. Hannah is my over-all favorite and I want to adopt her. Jon and Kate have eight kids, I'm sure they wouldn't miss one! Spread the adorable love! Reasons why I love Aaden: he wears glasses.

Aaden:

Alexis:

Hannah (this is not the most flattering pic of Hannah; she must just not be photogenic, because she's by far the cutest on tv):

And that concludes my extensive research on celebrity children. I hope you've enjoyed the fruits of my labor. Look forward to the next Thing I Like post which will be about Emma, my Lynx Point Siamese kitten and the Team Manager of Team Lara

The Mystery Man

My modern drama final paper is due the Monday after Thanksgiving, so I've been living in the library since Sunday to avoid sacrificing holiday time for writing time. Living in the library (specifically the reading room) means that I'm spending a lot of time pondering the existence of Reading Room Guy (RRG). Even if you never go in the library, you will certainly have seen RRG through the windows of the reading room on your way to C-Street or the Quad. Many things about RRG amaze and disturb me.

Part I: His outer qualities.

• RRG is ancient and has no place in a college library. Professors don't step foot in the reading room, let alone random, old Cap Hill hipsters!
• RRG has what I like to refer to as the "Anthony Bourdain Look". The ABL describes an older man who obviously got down and dirty in his youth and now looks quite leathery and a bit unhealthy. An ABL-er must be tall, skinny, leathery, and old, but--and this is the most important part--he does not realize that he's old.
• RRG wears very, very skinny jeans. He wears a keffiyah. He wears pastel or neon sweaters. He wears a black pair of Converse.
• RRG has a chain attached to his pants.
• RRG has bleach blonde hair.

Part II: His inner qualities.

• RRG spends all day in the reading room. If I'm feeling ambitious and am at the library before 8am, he's there. If I've been procrastinating all week and have to stay in the library until 3am finishing a paper due the next morning, he's there.
• RRG is always reading a paperback book.
• RRG always has a paper cup of coffee from Bon Ap. On occasion, I have seen him in C-Street. It was disturbing to see him outside his (un)natural environment of the reading room.
• RRG does not seem self-conscious that all he does, weekday and weekend, is read in the library.
• RRG is apparently either retired, a millionaire, or homeless because he cannot possibly hold down a job with all the time he spends reading.
• RRG has intense powers of concentration because he rarely moves. If I am unfortunate enough to be in the reading room for an extended period of time, I'll have either shifted, browsed the internet, run to the bathroom, texted, or daydreamed at least 5 times per hour. Maybe this is more demonstrative of my inabilities rather than RRG's superpowers, but I still find it strange.

Part III: Questions I have about RRG.

• Is he in any way affiliated with the university? An alum? An emeritus? The husband/partner of a professor? The nephew of Fr. Lemiuex?
• Does he have a home? Does he live in the library?
• Does he have a job? Is he independently wealthy? Did he make his millions at Microsoft and then decide to become an overaged Cap Hill hipster who reads all day?
• What does he read? Is he secretly some Good Will Hunting-genius?
• What does his voice sound like?
• Why does he dress in the manner of a 20 year old college student?
• WHAT WILL HE DO WHEN THE LIBRARY CLOSES FOR RENOVATIONS?!?!? I'm worried for him.

If anyone can answer my questions or tell me about an enconter with RRG, please let me know. I intened to find out more about him by the time I graduate from these hallowed halls.

Suburbia

I've been out of town for the past two weekends, and I chose to spend my time in the wildernesses of...suburban Puyallup and Portland. Let me tell you, neither locale is for the faint of heart!

I went to visit my mother's brother and family the weekend of the 14th, and I got to take the exotic transportation device known as "The Sounder". It was my first time. I was excited because the trains are the same double-decker kind used all over Italy. Rather than seeing the sparkling Ligurian Sea, however, I was treated to the damp, gray valley that is Pierce county. My aunt and uncle's farm is a treasure-trove of Americana, and I spent the weekend feeding horses, playing with cats and dogs, baking, painting my cousin's bedroom, not showering, not getting dressed, playing Rock Band, eating oreos dipped in raspberry jam, and being lazy with my lovely cousins. I also learned a very important skill: apple peeling. My aunt has this fantastic machine that allows you to pop an apple onto a rod and spin a handle, slowly advancing the apple toward a razor blade, which peels and cores the apple in one fun motion!

I got to do this procedure about 10 times and I was quite giddy, as avid Team Lara fans may imagine. It was magical.

This weekend I made the epic journey down to P-town for a doctor's appointment and some old fashioned family bonding. I helped pick out paint colors for our kitchen, family room, and den, beat my dad at Mario Kart, listened to my mother hum while making dinner, dealt with the thermostat being raised to 75 deg., introduced my grandpa to Thai food, went to the library, and had, generally speaking, hott times. And by "hott times" I mean falling asleep with my cat on the couch at 10pm on a Friday night with a rerun of CSI on in the background. It was bizarre (read: wonderful) to go four whole days without seeing a single hipster, to be the one almost hitting a pedestrian instead of being the pedestrian, and to not pay any sales tax on my hair conditioner from Fred Meyer. Ahh, suburbia, with all your joys and mysteries, how I love thee!

Coming up for Team Lara: Thanksgiving reunions with the BFFs, a review of the second Pants movie during a drunken viewing at said BFF reunion, my 22nd birthday, the hell that is Lemieux's reading room at 4am on Tuesday of Finals Week, and the Holy Grail of Fall Quarter--Christmas Break!!

I'm neurotic

I'm a Lit major, so I like words and the sounds and images they produce. But I have to admit that I am terrified by certain words, some because of how they sound and some because of their connotation. If you want to be a part of Team Lara, you won't use these words around me:

1. Moist. I know, I know, this is everyone's LFW (least favorite word). No one on earth, not even non-English speakers who don't know its connotation, could possibly like this word.
2. Culot. Yes, I mean the article of clothing often worn by young girls in the early '90s. I just don't like the way it sounds. It's too close to cutlet, and I don't like the idea of wearing meat on my legs.
3. Chunk. Again, this is more about the sound than anything else.
4. Skotch (as in, move over a skotch). I've found that most people are fortunate enough to never have heard this word. Unfortunetly for me, my 12th grade biology teacher used it quite often. One reason I dislike it is due to an unfortunate dissecting incident in which my teacher told me to adjust my rat's skin flap* "just a skotch" so I could see its intestines better. *Cross-referenced with #9.
5. Ointment. Why would you ever want to rub something with such a disgusting name on your skin?
6. Grind. This is perhaps because I never know what it's past tense form should be: ground, grinded, grounded--none of the possibilities sound correct.
7. Balmy. I feel I should explain a little. Before the junior prom, my group went to Benihana's (yes, we were very classy). A couple from another high school was there in prom get-up, so our server sat us with them. The guy was a freak and a half. He jabbered on and on while the girl looked miserable. At one point, the guys leaned over toward the girl and said, "My cheek feels balmy. Will you touch my cheek? Does it feel balmy?". The girl looked at him as if he were a disgusting insect and told him he should go check it out in the bathroom. After he left, there was a beat, and then she told us, "He's my boyfriend's younger brother. I owed him a favor". Creepy, damp-cheeked guy + awkward situation + uncomfortable prom dress + too much stir-fry = why I dislike the word balmy.
8. Filmy. It makes me think of slimey webbed toes.
9. Flaps. Mud flaps, wing flaps, body flaps...they're all bad. *Cross-referenced with #4.
10. Orange. Oranges are my least favorite fruit, I hate the way they smell, I hate their disgusting white skins, I hate their vein-y compartments, but most of all I hate pronouncing the word orange.

Things I like

I've decided that, since all of you are rooting for Team Lara, you should know my likes and dislikes. Thus, "Things I Like", will be a regularly featured blog topic.

First Thing I Like:

Humerous greeting cards.

My mother notoriously does not send me mail. My roommate gets care packages galore, while I am lucky to receive a card on major holidays (with a crisp $5 that my mother tells me to spend on something holiday-related, like candy, as if trying to deter me from spending it on booze). However, when la madre e il padre DO decide to send me a card, it's usually quite fab, and almost always animal-related. Here is the card they sent me for Halloween.

Here is the outside:

Things I like so far: it's grammar-related, the two girls look like total hos, neither has clean hair, and they are in some sort of diner.

And the Inside:

Things I like: Blondie got skooled, their expressions don't change, and my mother's note that these girls are English majors. Thanks for pointing that out, Mom.

And that was the first edition of Things I Like. Later entries will most likely cover my cat, Carlo Rossi, celebrity children, and Sweet Valley High books. Stay tuned.

Middle-aged Weekend

Instead of a vampire weekend, I experienced a middle aged weekend. It was a little preview of what my life might be like after I've been married for 25 years and am an empty nester. On Friday night I watched a movie with a friend. On Saturday night I went to the Lemongrass and watched a movie with a friend. On Sunday night I went to see the king of Adult Contemporary, Mr. Jason Mraz (Mr. Az, if you prefer). He danced, he white-person rapped, he sang 60s pop ditties, but--best of all--he brought out a gospel choir to accompany him on several songs.

Perhaps the most suprising part of the concert was the text messages sent by the audience. The texts were projected on to the stage's screens. Some were boring, like the many marriage proposals, some were kind of cutsey, like the imitation LOLCats shout outs, and some were just plain magnificent. My faves were:

1. I am sitting in front of an obnoxious drunk woman.


2. I love butt.


3. I have to poop.

The best thing about text #3 is that it was the last text projected onto the screens. When people think back on their Mraz experience, they'll probably remember the head-bopping, the testosterone-less men who populated the audience, and the person who had to take a dump right before Jason came on stage. All in all, I'd say that's a memorable Soft Rock concert!

Yes We Can! Yes We Did!

"'God damn it,' he said, 'there are such nice things in the world-and I mean nice things. We're all such morons to get so side tracked'" Franny & Zooey

Things I will always remember about the night Obama became President:

Hearing students screaming in the buildings around us.

Crying with friends during Obama's acceptance speech.

Eating an egg sandwhich after 7 shots of vodka.

Hearing fireworks all over Cap. Hill.

The sense of unity.

Seeing my feelings reflected in the faces on tv.

Blasting "Born in the USA" out the bedroom window.

Feeling pride in America again.

Even though I've been exhausted (and, if I'm being honest, a bit hung over) all day, I am buzzing with excitement and idealism. I could ramble, but I will let Tina Brown summarize: "Last night President-Elect Barack Obama gave America back its idea of itself. Just by winning he restored the nobility of a dream that has inspired the world for 230 years".

Om nom nom nom

I, like many, am a fan of the term Om nom nom nom, which is defined by Urban Dictionary as, "An onomatopoeical adjective based on the sound emitted when something is "oh so tasty" (either through hunger or flavorological value) that one gnaws through it without regard to cleanliness or etiquette. This sort of ravenous eating will often result in an "om nom nom nom" noise being emitted from the eater" . Therefore, when I found this website this morning while writing my midterm(I find my best new websites while procrastinating), I became very excited: http://www.omnomnomnom.com/

I couldn't help but think "om nom nom nom" every time I viewed a new photo. I encourage you to do the same.

Later gators, and happy om nom nom nom-ing!

Hotties of the Late '50s

I just finished watching "Gigi" on AMC, which happens to be one of my favorites. I don't know what it says about me that I find misogynistic leading men from 1950s musicals to be the epitome of romance, but there you have it.

Gaston:



Freddy:



I don't even like musicals, but after I listen to these two bad boys in their top hats and tails, I am ready to buy myself a ballgown and burst into song.

Hello, World!

I've decided to jump on the blog-wagon! I'm exposing the world to Lara's brain...even for the internet, it's pretty shocking.

If you're reading this, I assume you're a member of Team Lara. But here are some fun facts even my most vocal fans may not know about me...

Age: 21

Hometown: Portland, OR and Seaview, WA

Number of first cousins: eleven.

First crush: Leonardo DiCaprio

Strangest crush: Tom Selleck. But only a fully mustachioed Tom Selleck.

Best Halloween costume: big bird, when I was 4.

I hope I am reincarnated as: Heidi Klum.

Secret obsession: people watching.

Guilty pleasure: abbreviating/using text-language. Watching “Gossip Girl”.

My irrational fears are: birds and getting appendicitis.

Essential wardrobe item: pearls and headbands.

Favorite fruit: raspberries

Favorite vegetable: cucumbers

Favorite concert experience: Spice Girls, fifth grade. No contest.

Favorite muppet: it’s a toss up between Count Von Count and Grover.

Favorite drink: Pimms Cup.

Favorite childhood toy: my American Girl Doll, Samantha Parkington.

Favorite expression: cool beans or bomb dot com. I can’t choose.

Favorite holiday: non-religious: the Fourth of July, because it’s the only warm weather holiday. Religious: Easter, because we have two garbage cans full of champagne bottles after Mass.

Least favorite song: “Cotton Eye Joe”:

I’m currently reading: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone in Italian.

Thanks for spending your procrastination time reading my blog

Later gators!