como diablos

Lemon bars are so delicious. Tarty yet sweet. Pastry yet vaguely healthy since they're (in theory) made from lemons. AND since I'm not a big baker (I'm not into measuring things exactly and such) they're extra special since its not something I could make myself. When I probably could make them myself, but then there'd be stuff to clean and that's just no fun. Which is why lemon bars are something that I buy. Laziness. Its my reason for doing a lot of stuff. Especially at this point in my life. This point being year 2 of my twenties.

The twenties are a weird time. All of a sudden you're out of the prescribed go to school path and dumped into a choose your own adventure story, where any one of a billion possibilities could end up with you getting malaria and being audited by the IRS. I've noticed all of my friends deal with it differently, but that somethings seem like a pretty universal right of passage. And no I'm not talking about graduating and getting a job because umm some of us haven't quite done that yet. I'm talking about other more subtle things like getting a kitten or possibly a puppy. Some people skip the pet though and go for the baby, but I think the kitten/puppy route is the less committal route. Like the pseudo adulthood option. And even then the kitten option is much less of a commitment than the puppy, since the puppy you have to walk and stuff and the kitten, well you just have to feed it and it wont eat you in your sleep. Oh how I want a kitten. Its just the ten year or so commitment that I can't handle.

Which is pretty much my problem with everything lately. I don't want to commit to a job because I don't know how long I'm going to be in Houston. I don't want to commit to a place for the same reason. Every choice I make seems to narrow the path of options, which is good in a sense because I'm one of those people who stares at all 68 conditioner options at Target trying to figure out which one will make my hair the prettiest. Only to end up choosing the one that smells like coconuts. Because my hair makes me happier when it smells good. Or something. But then its bad because a month of so into it, I start to get sick of coconuts and wish that I'd gone with the mango option because then maybe my hair would behave.

Things never work out the way you think that they will. Which is why decision making is so complicated for me. I don't know if I'm going to get the awesome job that I just applied for in Boston (oh how I want this job). I have no control over it though. And even if I get it, it might not be all I want. I know it wont be because I have incompatible desires that always leave me wishing I was closer to someone, or at the beach, or out of the country, or learning to surf. Which is why I've stopped planning my life. I was never one of those people with 5 year plans. My plans have always been fuzzy and ill-conceived. "I'm going to apply to one college and if I don't get in then ummm I guess I'll backpack through Europe" Now though, its just a rough sketch. I'm going to get a job, wherever I get hired that makes me happy. And I'm going to write. And maybe just maybe if my life falls into some sort of order, I'll finally get a kitten.

And now you know some links:

* A very zen video of puppies chasing a kitten. The cuteness is almost overwhelming.

* A cardboard bed. That looks comfy.

* I feel like the proudest mama ever! Brent's in the newspaper! His band is awesome, if you get the chance you should watch them. Or you could go on sketchy myspace and umm listen to stuff, in between picking up 16 yr old girls.

* Vintage french pr photos. via kottle.

* When I first heard of a 19yr old Harvard student having her book published and getting a second book advance (unheard of for a first time writer) I was impossibly sick with jealousy and felt like a big old loser. But now, well lets just say I feel quite at peace with the whole thing. Because on the inside I'm a five. And like to eat erasers.

* A great website that helps men deal with abortion. I came across it here.

* Ok, I've been meaning to post this force a while, but it felt like too much of a downer to bring it up. Anyways Riley's argument is that women should exercise common sense to avoid being raped. On principle I agree with her argument. I never go out to bars/clubs by myself. I avoid dark back alleys. I make sure to look men in the face when I'm walking by myself(this deters would be rapists from thinking your an easy victim). At the same time though, its obnoxious to have to do these things to rarely, if ever, leave your guard down because as a woman, I have to be more vigilant. At the same time though life is unfair. I also rarely if ever have to buy my own drinks because there's always a guy to buy one for me. So there are pros and cons to being female. What bothers me most though is that this argument intrinsically blames the victims for not being "smart enough" to not get raped. Which is just bs. I don't care how slutty my outfit is, how short my skirt is, how blond and coconutty my hair is, rape is never okay. And the fault of that lies in the perpetrator, not the victim. If you want to read better counter arguments you can go here and here.