Important Announcements

1. I am seven tans in and seriously getting INCREDIBLY golden brown. On the downside, my brain sort of started melting during my first nine-minute session. How do people do this for like 12 minutes? Your tips welcome. Also it's a stand-up booth and my arms get tired because I feel like I have to hold them up or my armpits might not get tan. Confusing stuff.

2. As both of my readers now know, I may be changing my job. This is very scary, but alas, it's hard to argue that your job is wonderful and satisfying when you have been voluntarily attending a remedial CHEMISTRY CLASS two nights a week. That is like saying your kidneys are totes fine and that you simply get dialysis "just in case." The good news is I'll be constantly stealing corporate secrets and insights about how to drive ever more traffic to the amazing Second Degree website. Seriously I think I can top 10 unique visitors a month, and then it's just a matter of hours before Google acquires me.

3. I got the first issue in my subscription to Positive Thinking magazine today. If you don't believe me, eff you. I love it! Read it if you want.

4. I'm really scared about a new job. I haven't had a regular commute since 2005.
4a. Fortunately I located an accelerated nursing program within driving distance of my parents' house. With an absolute worst case scenario backup plan in place, I think I can make the move.

Post-Fire Update

In my line of work as an estate attorney, I'm frequently asked about how one's possessions will be handled post-passage. Something I hear probably six or seven times a month is, "What happens if I die in a fire?"

Well, here are the basics. First, all your burnt stuff goes into trash bags (toward the right of the frame in the pic below). This is taken from above so it's tough to capture the real scale but basically there's a gigantic hill of bags. Then the fire marshals come dig through it for your bed frame (over on the left) and reassemble it to try to track down the origin of the fire. Click if you want a sense of just what a mess this is.

That sits around for a few weeks until all the insurance stuff is dealt with, and then finally a crew comes and hauls all your stuff into a two-car-long Dumpster.
Said Dumpster is then filled to overflowing, emptied out, and then filled to the brim again, this time with all the burnt debris from your apartment, which now looks like this when you walk in the front door.

In terms of both legacy planning and general horribleness, this is not advisable. So please, don't die in a fire.

Late-Expressing Genetic Link

So after our final on Monday, a few of us went out for several drinks. The four of us who had all gotten BAs already were talking about the decision to start taking classes and eventually leave our jobs (two of us work in publishing/media, one is a "refurbishing specialist" or somesuch at a big Fifth Avenue store, and another works for a city health nonprofit). What we all have in common is that we're taking prerequisites so we can get into a second-degree BSN program... and our mothers are all nurses!

What I'm thinking is that if scientists can locate the exact nursing gene, they can reproduce it and graft it into regular people and stop the nursing shortage ASAP. Actually, what am I saying, "scientists"? I've had one semester of community college chemistry, I'm pretty sure I can take it from here.

PS This picture really is of my mom. She's super pretty. We look nothing alike sadly.

FAQ: Don't Be Ridiculous

What Are You Doing (Mondays and Wednesdays) the Rest of Your Life?

Let me know, because I will not be in class! WHOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOO SUMMER.

PS to all those who were concerned by my decision to not study seriously for the final, it paid off timewise, as all the stuff I tried to cram on the subway ride down to school? Not on the test.

Also, in scientific prerequisite terms, I am 25% on my way to nursing school. Internet college starts Wednesday but still. I can't believe I went to college for an entire semester of boring chemistry. Remind me to tell you tomorrow about the breakthrough genetic discovery we made on the last day of class.

Status Report: FAIL

Bad news, fellow Americans. I have been tanning three times on the suggested regimen and so far there is not much to show for it, just my regular purplish-undertoned pastitude.

Fortunately, I am an optimist, so I choose to view this as validation. I have probably said one thousand times in the last three years that I have a deep, dark olive complexion. Well, it turns out that I do! That's why I'm not tan yet or even burned—because the powerful UV cancer tan rays cannot penetrate my external shell of golden brown. DUH.

However, I have developed a (quite rational, I might add) fear of being trapped in a subterranean upright tanning booth during an earthquake or terrorist attack. So if you're looking for a way to kill me that I do not like, this is your lucky day.

I Can't Even Believe This Was a CNN Headline

This was on cnn.com last night, true story. The one about the Air Force, see? (Since I know you're busy, just FYI it says "In-suit device solves Air Force's No. 1 problem," or click to enlarge for proof.) Anyway the article is about a new device that allows pilots to go pee while they're flying. So how is that the Air Force's top priority? Because they're going number one. GET IT?!?

If you're wondering why I clicked on a story about the Air Force, the truth is that I mistakenly read "In-suit device" as "Insult device" so obviously I had to look.

Fair Warning

I just wanted to do the fair thing and give my friends a heads-up that I won't be able to hang out with them very much this summer. Not because of classes—though internet Intro to Psychology does start on Thursday—but because I've decided to get a tan this summer, and at 3 sessions a week I'd imagine it's going to cut into my free time significantly.

Listen I know I've tried before and I've always failed, because I am a failure. But this time I'm approaching it with a renewed sense of optimism and dedication. This time I'm going to become the olive-hued Puerto Rican that I am inside. "But you can't tan!" people say. But I can, that is what I'm trying to tell you. "But you're beautiful the way you are!" people (might possibly) say (if questioned). But I'm not! That's the same thing they said about why I shouldn't exercise or straighten my hair. And it turns out they were LYING.

I tried last year but my heart just wasn't in it. I got a 10-pass to a tanning place and only managed to use 8 before it expired after three months. But so far I'm three visits in and it's only been five days (you're supposed to go 3 times a week for the first month). I AM ON A PATH TO VICTORY, and I cannot be stopped. Deep, dark, olive, chestnut-skin complexion.

See you in the fall!

Things That Might Not, in Retrospect, Be Normal

True story: Last winter I went on a holiday vacation to the ski house of some friends. There were about seven of us there for several days, a mix of couples and not, and a good blend of people who'd met before and who hadn't. And it was really fun, and after I got back, I marveled at the fact that there wasn't that one person who everyone found annoying, because there always is in any group, right?

But then I realized that if I didn't think any particular person was loathsome, that must mean that I was the person everyone hated. So I got REALLY MAD at all my friends and the jerks in the house. How dare they all look down on me and make fun of me every time I leave the room?! I'm way awesome and don't deserve to be thought of that way I was just trying to have a good time you're not so much better than me either you know. I don't have to sit here and listen to you patronize me. What effers.

I think this might be a symptom of a mental disorder, but you know what I call that mental disorder? Reality, people.

My Complete and Unabridged Thoughts on SATC

1. Carrie is not cute.

2. I am definitely a Miranda, like, for sure. Even though my job is Carrielike, my tolerance for talking about the s-word is Charlottian, and my appreciation for young blond men is Samanthaish, SO WHAT.
Obvs I'm a Miranda. And that is 100% awesome with me. But you know what is not? The sad, sinking realization that it means I'm going to wind up with a Steve: A short, sensitive, "I'm trying here!" guy with a nasally voice who I hate SO MUCH that I won't even let him live with me after I have his stupid kid. Gee dee it all.

BLECK.

Oh, and in case your browser doesn't support these photos, let me do a quick sketch for you.

Miranda ----------------> :) :( <------------ Steve

Seasons' Greetings

Great news! The trend regarding correspondence from my mother continues unabated
Here we've got an Easter greeting, not just one but TWO birthday cards (one from her, one from her cats, don't be stupid), and then one "hello."

But you know who else has gotten in on my fun? My hilarious two "best friends." Although they live in different cities on different ends of the country and did not consult about this, they both sent me birthday cards from the exact same line. Same card, different cat, right down to the inside greeting—and total coincidence (no, really). Thanks, smart alecks! Who's laughing now? Oh right, EVERYONE.

Two Types of People Who Freak Me Out

Just for your files:

1. Ladies with long torsos. They look like snakes to me. I wonder how it is possible that they can have the same number of backbones as I do. I think that each vertebra must be the size of a coffee cup. I can't stop staring.

2. People who don't move their arms when they walk. Sounds random but TRY IT and you will know exactly who I mean. Why do they walk that way and what are they trying to hide?!?!?

Dear Date,

I suppose if I had to list my top three concerns with your comment, "I have a pair of purple Pumas. I mean, no one has purple Pumas," said concerns would be these:

a) You are bragging about fashion sense vs. demonstrating it.

b) I have two different pairs of purple Pumas, rendering your boast impotent.

c) You are a straight man with no corresponding team or gang affiliation talking about purple shoes.

Thank you for your time.

For Gentleman—The Truth About Your Quirky Date Idea

Something about my awesomitude inspires men go above and beyond and really try to impress me with their fun, unexpected, outside-of-the-box date ideas. What that boils down to is that four of the last five guys I've dated have asked me to go bowling. Real friggin original, fellas.

And just FYI, knowing that you think of me as "quirky" is about as complimentary as telling a girl she has a "great personality" or a "pretty face." When will they invent an emoticon for flipping the bird? Cuz it goes right here.

Though maybe they only ask me this because I wear the outfit in the picture to the right.

Happy Handsome Birthday

Dear Dwayne The Rock Johnson,

Happy birthday today! I know we haven't really been in touch ever since you un-friended me on MySpace. Maybe it's because Disney closed the account when they got done promoting The Game Plan. Is that it, The Rock? Maybe.

But I also realize that maybe it's because you were afraid of how close we'd gotten. It's true that we have an unbelievable amount in common—you're scared of spiders, I'm scared of roaches; you are tall, I am tall; we both regularly eat entire cheese pizzas. we both have tattoos. It's fate, really. And I suppose with your separation so fresh in your past, you may be wary of the idea that you could love again so quickly.

Anyway, I want you to know that I wish you the best. Maybe for this birthday I'll go stand by myself and stare creepily at the wax figurine of you in front of Madame Tussauds in Times Square. And I have a very special gift for you, so I guess I'll just hang on to it until we meet. (Hint: It's my virginity!)

Your friend,
Love,
The Imaginary Nurse

You Know What People Don't Say Enough

about GI-related problems, or when someone acts like a jerk? "Encountering turdulence."

I'm going to do my part to fix that, and I hope you will, too.

Listen, I Never Went to Tracker School or Anything

BUT I have reason to believe that an animal may have slept on my clean laundry:

And also that today while I was at work, there may have been a fight between a certain pet and my sleep mask:

Don't ask me how I know these things, okay? It's just something I sense.