Digital Camera Envy etc

Dear friends who know SO MUCH STUFF!
I am in the market for a digital camera. I have more or less narrowed it down to these three choices, although I reserve the right to add to this list at any given point.
I am fairly settled on the superzoom, as I think I would enjoy its capabilities. However, I am open to arguments about why I should get something smaller & with less zoom. I am, however, settled on not getting an SLR.
Here are the major differences, as I see them.

• The Panasonic Lumix has a hot shoe, which could be very exciting. The model I am looking out has been replaced with a less positively reviewed model, which means the one I am interested in is cheaper, but also, older.
  
• The Fujifilm Finepix does not have stabilization, which is bad. It's the cheapest of the bunch, though only slightly.
  
• The Canon S2 IS is a Canon, which makes me like it a little bit more than the others. Features-wise, it's in-between the other two, but does have 12x optical zoom as opposed to 10x. I'm not sure how much difference I think that would make to me.
  

I am also open to suggestions of similar cameras. I didn't see any Nikons or Olympuses that particularly impressed me, but again, I'm open. I invite your commentary and advice. Indeed, I beg for it.

Indecisively yours,
Ruth

Oh, boo hiss.

Fuck you, Blue Cross Blue Shield of Kansas City and my $32.20 birth control. I'll show you where the money is when I stop taking it and you pay for my thousands of dollars pregnancy. I hate you, the man.

Ugh.

This article is insanely stupid. It's written like an undergraduate application essay. I can't believe that trite twit gets to have a book and write for the New York Times.

As I've mentioned in previous posts, I have a massive crush on my library. This concept of finding books & movies online, placing holds, then getting an email a few days later announcing their arrival to my particular branch is absolutely brilliant. Of course, there is something to be said for browsing, but the convenience of this online business really trumps all.
That said, there are dangers to library use vs. simply buying online.
I have a variety of books & movies on hold. Some are fine literature and foreign films, others are self-help books and horror flicks. Usually, the holds that come in are a mix, which, I feel, speaks to my eclecticness and lack of artifice.
However, Friday I came in to collect several holds: What color is your parachute?; Refuse to choose! : a revolutionary program for doing everything that you love; Jobs for English majors and other smart people; Do what you love, the money will follow : discovering your right livelihood; Saw. OK. I've mentioned in previous posts that I am uncertain as to what to do with my life, and, as for the self-help genre, I found Suze Orman's Young Fabulous & Broke to be rather helpful, and two books on law school & lawyerness convinced me that I should never take that path...
So. I had hoped to collect these books rather anonymously. There is one librarian under 40 in my local library, a cute blond girl probably in her late 20s. She, plus one of the octogenarians, were at the checkout counter. I kept my fingers crossed (literally) that hipster girl would not be my checkout girl.
Alas, she was. So, I present my card, she scans, makes a face. Says "is your dad a teacher?" I confirm, she says "what's his name?" (Note: I feel her obligation would be to say something to the effect here of: "is he mr. yourlastname?" or "does he teach at blank?" or "does he teach orchestra?" rather than asking his name, but whatever). Anyway, she confirmed that he was her teacher, she recalls me as a smaller girl, etc, etc. Then she gives me my books and I am forever embarassed.
Incidentally, I haven't looked at my self-help books yet (being too involved with literary fiction (Our kind : a novel by Kate Walbert, my new issue of Bust magazine, and ok, the Gilmore Girls), but my roommate, Julie (yes, I am outing you too) has looked through Parachute & one other, and confirms that Parachute is a christian book! Jeez.

high school

Well, I spent a significant portion of my past weekend at my high school alma mater, supporting my small brothers in various activities. Some commentary:

• Those bitches have more expensive jeans than me, and fancier hair too. I consoled myself with the fact that they no doubt can't use a semi-colon to save their life.
• I tried to take comfort in the fact that I can hold my liquor better, but then realized that honestly, my tolerance has never surpassed my 12th grade drinking abilities.
• I also tried to take comfort in the fact I was definitely cooler than them, and contemplated pointing out that I was 'rude' when they were toddlers, and listened to Belle & Sebastian when they were rocking out to Raffi. Then I wondered if Belle & Sebastian are still cool, and started feeling bad about what little attention I pay to new music.
• I saw a tween in a Killers shirt this weekend. I bought a Killers CD a few months ago. I can't say I've succeeded in getting into it. I know that some of my cooler friends like them a lot, so I am still trying. But given the choice of NPR or the Killers, I'll take NPR.
• I also saw several kids in Grateful Dead/DMB/Phish shirts & cargo shorts from Abercrombie. I took a great deal of comfort in their existence, because in high school I scorned them, and it appears they are filling the same purpose as before, so I scorned again.
• Of course, I did all this from the awkward vantage point of adult sibling, which was a little embarassing, particularly at the battle of the bands, where both of my brothers's competed.
• For instance, there were beach balls bouncing around. I really wasn't sure whether or not I should ensure that they continue to bop around, or if I should just let them fall when they approached me. Usually I hit them, but went to no great lengths to do so. I considered this to be 'nonchalant.'
• I am a firm believer in dancing at live music performances. However, I didn't want to attract undue attention, so settled for head bopping towards the back.
• Also, on my brothers' bands. Littlest brother plays ska. He's 16. I think I outgrew ska completely by then. I do remember driving to ska shows, but I also remember seeing Dub Narcotic that year, so 16 was clearly an age of musical transition for me. Bigger brother plays, like, frat boy funk-blues. Yikes.
• I can't believe those girls all had on more expensive jeans than me. Maybe I'm not prioritizing my spending properly.

See you next Tuesday.

I have been saying and writing that all day. Now I am embarassed, because, as we all know, C U Next Tuesday means cunt. But we are having a workshop... next tuesday, so I keep repeating that. Whoops. I am so vulgar. It would be awesome if I could just say, "Thanks for registering, c.u.n.t." instead. That would be hysterical.
In any case, I can't find any information on protests today in Kansas City. I would like to lend my support to the immigrant community. I am pretty disgusted with much of the commentary coming out of the immigration debates. The nastiness of really, the majority, is just so troubling.

Fulfillment

Well, my vileboss is gone 4eva, and my work life is both satisfying and busy. So, I am disinterested in updating on a regular basis, much like the people who make up the Js of my 'friends list.' What is with you, middle section?
I have no antics of evil to describe, nor have I done anything remotely exciting in the last few weeks. My grandfather has been in town and his hearing isn't the greatest, so I have done lots of yelling, which, ordinarily forms a part of 'excitement' but does not in this case.
The news, usually bloggably-rich, seems dull. Whereas I used to fill hours of my day reading various newspapers, now, a quick skim of the nytimes front page & most emailed sates me. And I haven't seen a movie worth commenting on in ages (although I do have both a streetcar named desire and the taste of others at home lined up for this weekend), though I have begun watching the first season of Arrested Development & Grey's Anatomy. As the one episode I watched previously suggested, Arrested Development is 4X funnier than everyone said. Buster, I love you.
And Grey's Anatomy, while enjoyable, is a hospital drama which is toxic for me as I tend to cry each and every time someone dies, could die, or talks about dying. So, kinda high-risk behavior for me.
I suppose the biggest news is that I paid my outstanding library fine from high school ($44.50--not bad!) and am now able to use the library again. And I tell you, I love the library! Indeed, it is they who have supplied me with the first season of Arrested Development & A Streetcar Named Desire, as well as assorted other works of fiction and law school-focused books. I just finished "A woman's guide to law school' which has partially convinced me that law school is for chumps and i would rather die than be a lawyer. Now I am taking a break with Zadie Smith's Autograph Man, which 25 pages in (which is probably 5%), seems that it will be acceptably engrossing but not as enjoyable as White Teeth. Anyway, I am pretty excited to be restored to the good graces of my library.

While I doubt that anyone actually reads my blog with the mind to keep up on the banalities of my life, I nevertheless feel compelled to update about them from time to time.

• The executive board unceremoniously told my boss that her resignation would be effective Monday (that's two days past now), not the end of April as previously planned. Such elation.
• Except, unfortunately, I spent Monday and much of the weekend ravaged by influenza. I have since recovered, but the experience was extremely unpretty. Conversely, I think it may have been slenderizing, so all was not lost.
• Yesterday, I became an advanced user of Microsoft Access under the tutelage of an extremely dull man. I have since managed to completely fuck up our work databases in ways that I had previously never even dreamed.
• I have begun to prepare to take the LSAT.
• Unsurprisingly, in light of the above announcement, I have continued to talk myself out of tattooing and have made no moves to ink umbrellas or any other water-repellent on my body.
• I ate a cookie that has been sitting in the "kitchen" of my work since Friday. It wasn't bad.

Oh, pretty please, die

My fuckwit boss just set a fire in our microwave. Apparently, she doesn't bother with the timer feature and just cranks it all the way up. You know those fancy-schmancy organic veggie dishes? Amy's, I believe? Yeah, toxic when microwaved past the recommended guidelines. My boss, being responsible for absolutely nothing, used the opportunity to complain about the lack of adequate fire alarms in our building. Then you know, she went in her office and shut the door, leaving me to enhale the no doubt deadly fumes.
As many of you know, my vileboss has resigned and will cease tormenting me with her thoughtlessness, extremely poor social skills and rampant neuroses in a few (not nearly few enough) weeks. I can't wait. Because otherwise, die.

Suck it, French Youth

Looks like you lost the battle against precariousness. "Contre la précarité!" if you must, and surely you must.
Too bad about that. I wish I could say I was sad for you, but it's hard to have sympathy for those who get to eat more creme fraiche than me (and American creme fraiche is quite poor and awfully expensive anyway), smoke more cigarettes, and effortlessly weigh less.
But that's fine, because it looks like your waistlines are expanding since you have the most McDonalds per capita outside of the US and now you'll have to work hard to keep your lousy french jobs with your excessive vacations. You'll probably become stressed and end up eating massive quantities of cheap chocolate at your desk, which will just exacerbate your growing girths. Bummer, french youth, I really want to feel for you, but I'm not sure if it's jealousy or animosity that keeps me from doing so.
In any case, we've suspected you're worthless for a long time, so, let's see if you can cut it in the real world (ie the american one).

I cannot live without positive reinforcement

Hence, a poll! Wheeee.

My once and future tattoo

For those of you that have had the "what tattoo would you get?" conversation with me, you know that my answer has been, for that last 4 years at least, a tattoo of an umbrella (although for like, two weeks, I desperately wanted that tiger (or maybe lion) tattoo that is on the cover of a push kings album). A delinquent friend of mine once even promised to draw it for me, so I could get it. Why an umbrella? No reason, except perhaps that I like Mary Poppins and used to love Magritte. But still, Magritte is cool and umbrellas are the best. I never did get my tattoo, in part because my mom threatened to revoke college funding if I did get a tattoo (ha! joke's on me, because those loans were in my name, weren't they?), and in part, because, well, I'm not tattoo cool. Yeah, I am not the biggest of flipping losers, but I am definitely not cool enough that I ever listen to music at top volume, unless I am trying to demonstrate that I am, in fact, mad enough to listen to music so loud it hurts. And yeah, I can tolerate a bit of the punk music from time to time, but let's be honest. I would rather listen to Dolly Parton than the Sex Pistols. And yes, I do like a number of Kill Rock Stars & K Records bands that might be labeled as punk, but, well, I don't think that buys me any tattooed-hard-ass cred, although I am fairly sure tattooed hard asses don't get umbrellas inked into their flesh.
But, I think it's time. I really think I might be ready to cross the line into becoming a tattooed person. The following are nice umbrella prototypes, and I would like your opinion. I am pretty sure I just want a black outline with the 'seams' inked in, if that makes sense, although I have not 100% ruled out the use of color. Also, let it be known that I will not be adding raindrops or anything of the kind to my umbrella tattoo. Just an umbrella for me, thanks.
Also, I am pretty sure it will be diagonal on my left shoulder, with the hooked handle pointing up. I have also contemplated getting a flipping huge one that stretches across my back, like a thunderbird, but well, I will never be that badass.
Umbrella 1:

Umbrella 2:

Umbrella 3:

Umbrella 4:

Humiliated again

OK, it is bad enough that the US has elected Bush to the presidency twice, that our states continue to battle evolution, that crazy South Dakota has banned abortion, that DeLay won his stinking primary, that most Americans still think there are WMD in Iraq & that Crash won the Acadamy award. These things are humiliating. The US news section in international papers looks like the Onion or some similar mockumentary, but most shocking(!!!!): "US knocked out at World Classic."
America's pasttime? What? How can this be! I understand that similar anguish was felt during the Olympics, dream team etc & no doubt followers of Quad Rugby experienced similar devastation. But losing in our most bestest coolest sport, advancing countries with a total population less than the number of American baseball movies, this is truly humiliating.

Keeping up

Well, after all these pedophilia/myspace stories, I decided it was time to join. While doing so, though, I realized that I am no longer attractive to pedophiles, and indeed, have not been for some time. Bummer.
But really, how many of these silly networking sites is a person required to join? And myspace is really really ugly. Not mine, mine is boring, but some people's, dare I say most people's, myspace is hideous. I spent an hour or so (while watching the gilmore girls & eating popcorn, granted) finding the same friends I am already connected with on friendster & facebook or both(!) and adding them. Many of whom are using the same photos & text! It's exasperating!
On the plus side, it's no great inconvenience and does create a new time waster for work. So come on, be my myspace friend too. I feel like a big dork with only a few friends...

Los Angeles

So, my clever boyfriend has been admitted to UCLA. This is pretty exciting because it means I can focus my life planning a bit more than before, though there are still pending applications and financial aid etc etc so the move to LA is not certain by any means.
However, I now can apartment hunt in LA with greater dedication than before, but the problem with LA is the connotations. I mean, the utter horror when the 90210 or clueless crowd had to go to 'the valley' for some sort of party. So obviously, we don't want to live in 'the valley' but what valley could they mean? Simi, san fernando, sun, there are at least half a dozen areas called 'something valley' around Los Angeles, and who knows which valley (or all valleys) is so undesirable?
And then, of course Malibu and Venice Beach are off-limits, because of the Barbie connections. I don't remember where my objections come from to Venice Beach, but I am pretty sure it has something to do with rollerblades and spandex. There's that terrible movie "Laurel Canyon," the wretched "Topanga" on Boy Meets World, "The Little Old Lady From Pasedena," and well, I don't know what Santa Monica is all about but I really hate the name "Monica." And I don't even know what to say about Hollywood, Beverly Hills, or Bel Air.
It's embarassing. I couldn't say "oh, I live in Venice Beach" without feeling like a total reject.

Oh, seriously, allow me to retch

Crash? Worst movie ever. Seriously. Puketastic. Remember when movies were about subtlety & I don't know, something not boring and stupid? OK, me neither, but Crash sucked. Boo academy.

My soap dispenser at work.

It looks like this.



Always with the two inches of thicker, milkier soap on top. I noticed it my first time using the facilities here, and while the more translucent level will change, there are always two inches of grossness on top. As I have little to report of note (except that my boyfriend is handsome and brilliant, which is of course old news), I decided to illustrate the little bit of bathroom grossness that I visit every day.

what the kids are listening to...

So, the fact of the matter is, I am getting older. Indeed, I have found my first grey hairs (2 of them!) in the past week. I found that pretty damn traumatic and am now having nightmares about grey hairs and strollers and biological clocks, oh my.
But the 'arctic monkeys,' that really sets me off. What a freaking stupid band name. Now, I haven't heard them yet. I may give them a shot tonight when I am at home using a computer with sound capabilities. I guarantee you that I won't like it though. But Arctic Monkeys is an INSANELY dumb band name; it connotes nothing but socks sold at Claire's and t-shirts sold at Spencer's. Which isn't cool at all. I keep trying to think of a comparably stupid band name that I listen(ed) to during my youth, and the only thing I can think of is 'superchunk' except I never really listened to them, that was all Michael. Also I was never a foo fighters fan.
No, I feel quite certain that I never listened to any band with as stupid a name as 'arctic monkeys' and I will not start now.

Basically, I have to update my blog because the last sentence of my last post is grammatically inept, and each time I check back to see if there are any new comments, I notice my grammatic failure (brought on by a desperate desire to use the word 'imperious') I am mortified.
In other news, I am thus far the only one in my office, the parking lot to my building is almost completely empty, and the mailman just stopped by to tell me that we have no mail today. Today is going to be a strange one.

When I am taken hostage

When I am taken hostage, which is highly likely since I don't even know how to use a gun at all, thus increasing the likelihood that I'll be kidnapped and unable to escape, I hope that I am strong and resolute and say things like "Never back down! Don't give into their maniacal demands" especially if their demands are more or less reasonable, like a box of Thin Mints (although they are becoming less and less reasonable every year).
This brings me to my second point, which is, I need to learn how to use a gun. Should I ever, you know, get taken hostage or end up in a horror movie. I have nightmares about staring down Freddy Krueger, trying to blow his brains out, and falling backward, thus meeting my death.
I just hope that should I ever end up in a life or death situation, my eyes turn to steel and my manner imperious.