25 Things

This is adapted from Facebook and inspired by Fay

Rules: you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you.

1. I like to think that I could survive on sugar confections alone - particularly cake, pie, pudding, real Pepsi (the kind you get in Europe or Mexico), and newly acquired passion -- red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting from Sprinkles.

2. I hate acting my age.

3. I could watch kids' movies all day, every day. "The Brave Little Toaster" comes to mind... also the original "Parent Trap," any and all Pixar movies ever made, "My Robot;" seriously, the list can go on for days.

4. I must have listened to Matchbox 20's "Yourself or Somebody Like You" at least 1000 times in high school.

5. I think women are far sexier than men.

6. I hate running - hate it - but when I have an occasional "good day" I get such an endorphin rage that I tell myself I will run again tomorrow, which inevitably is never as satisfying.

7. I too (Fay) still have to recite the alphabet to remember the order when I’m looking things up in a reference book. I also count on my fingers.

8. I take candy - especially the peach gummy Os - out of the open plastic buckets in the grocery store. Some people call it stealing; I call it a tasty snack.

9. I despise Pomeranians.

10. Britney will forever be my favorite pop star.

11. I have eaten ostrich meat (it was not good).

12. I read every Anne Rice book I can get my hands on, even though everything after Witching Hour has been a huge disappointment.

13. One of my pet peeves is bad spelling.

14. I eat boiled pasta with nothing on it but ketchup, and it is delicious.

15. I would rather suffer from a cold or the flu than take cough syrup or NyQuil. Just the thought of it is making me want to throw up a little.

16. I wish I did not have to think about whether I want kids or not until at least my 40s.

17. I watch cooking shows while running on the treadmill.

18. I used to think I was going to marry Zach Braff.

19. I think the sexiest instrument to listen to is the cello, and the prettiest language is Farsi.

20. I am getting an IPhone this weekend; and I'm pretty sure my next computer will be a Mac.

21. One day, I will write a book, and it will be awesome. The subject and/or genre is yet to be decided upon.

22. The funniest person I know is my bf's six-year old niece.

23. My favorite male character from literature is Francisco D'Anconia from Atlas Shrugged.

24. I want to travel to all fifty states. So far I have been to CA, AZ, NV, HI, NE, and most of the New England states, though I would love to go to all of them again.

25. Today is my four-month anniversary of working at Stanford.

Beedle the Bard

The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J.K. Rowling

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars
The Tales of Beedle the Bard is pretty witty! A short collection of fairy tales, translated by Hermione Granger, is supplemented with essays by Albus Dumbledore himself after each tale. The tales are short and very kid-friendly, and the last one ties in directly with the Harry Potter plot. I gave the book only three stars because there were so few tales! I wanted a whole volume! The first tale, about a hopping magical cauldron, is really cute and funny, and I can see myself telling it to my own kids! Actually all of them are worthy to be re-told, and there is definitely a Rowling-ness to them -- a hairy heart, a wart-covered cauldron, a witch turning into a bunny... Oh, how I miss the HP books!


View all my reviews.

What's in a week? (A hell-of-a dream!)

Right before my alarm woke me up this morning, I was in the midst of a wonderful dream. I was one person in a sea of many; I was engulfed in excitement, joy, pride, loud and unabashed celebration. It was Inauguration Day, and Barack Obama was about to become the 44th President of the United States. I looked down, and saw I was wearing my favorite jeans. Around me, people were dressed in jeans, sweatshirts, t-shirts; on their feet were flip-flops, Converse sneakers, running shoes. Their heads were bare and their faces glowed with anticipation. We were all one massive sea of people, and we were on the Stanford campus. The President-elect, soon to be the President, was expected any second. There was no security to keep anyone back, block any bullets, prevent any miscreant act of violence, because this wasn't the kind of world where that was feasible. I could hardly contain myself; I kept running through my head what I wanted to say to President Obama when he came to speak to me. Should I tell him "Congratulations"? How redundant! Should I say "This is the dawning of a new era"? Absolutely not. How about BEEP BEEP BEEP!!! BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!

FREAKIN CRAP! I can't BELIEVE THIS SHIT! I snooze. I force my mind to go back to the dream. It is gone. GONE! I nearly start crying in my pillow. Sleep, damn it, sleep, it will come back. It doesn't. All I hear is our neighbors Indian music blaring from his alarm clock as he, too, struggles with waking.

I get up. I stand in the doorway, watching M put on his running shoes. How can he go to the gym at a time like this?, I ask myself. Doesn't he know I just got ripped out of a world in which I could speak to the freakin PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES?!?! He doesn't. "You look cute," he says. (I look like crap-- hair hasn't been washed in days, it decides this morning to stand up, sideways, defying gravity). "I'm going to the gym!" He is too chipper. Too early, too chipper, too - oh who cares?! I JUST WANT TO GO BACK TO MY DREAM!

Interjection -- I have been having awful dreams for the last few nights; seriously, one involved some sort of farm animal attack in which I was the sad loser). This only made this morning's dream that much more precious.

M leaves; I stumble into the bathroom. I stare into the mirror.

"HOLY CRAP IT'S BEEN A WEEK! A WHOLE WEEK!" The realization hits me like heavy blinds being suddenly drawn, letting in the sunshine.

I suddenly feel proud of myself for subconsciously commemorating Barack Obama's first week in office with my own personal dream. (I also realize I tend to be egotistical in the morning, thinking my dream somehow makes Obama's presidency real, rather than his presidency allowing for my dream to happen).

I dressed up for work this morning. And by dressed up, I mean I wore my nice black pants that I hardly ever wear, and an actual blazer over my little red sweater. I even wore the black heels, and did my hair. I was celebrating a little inside, because contrary to who it looked like I was sleeping next to, I secretly know that I was only moments away from spending some personal time with our President. And when one meets the President, one aught to look one's best!