i know a woman named marge

isn't that weird? i didn't think real people were named that. i thought it was reserved for, you know, chickens and other farm animals, except for cows who should either be named "bessie" or after a flower.

so clearly my new m.o. is to pretty much just blog while i'm in the office. it's fine by me, and i don't care what you think, so there you go.

my grandpa dropped off my grandma's bike last wednesday, and i've been riding it around a little. i'm used to a road bike with the bullhorn handlebars, and decided to be a little bit of a snob about things and get them changed as soon as i had the chance, as well as the rusty pedals. but then i rode it around the block and as it turns out i am pretty much in love with it and refuse to change anything, including the pedals, because they are weighted and so don't spin around when you're at a stoplight. it's the lightest frame i've ever ridden on - my favorite bike up until now has been my schwinn varsity, which is a gold color and has the original seat and handlebar tape, but which is a little big for me and heavy as a tank. my grandma's blue miyata has girl handlebars, but i am way into them. my posture's much better than usual, at least while i'm on my bike. the back brake cable snapped a couple days ago, but i guess that's not as big a deal as i thought it was - i was pretty sure that if i ever used the front brake, ever, i was going to fly right over the handle bars. apparently, though, a lot of people use the front brake and this rarely ever happens. the tension on the front brake was a little overeager, but i fixed it myself during the simpsons, which is pretty much the first time i've ever fixed anything on a bike myself and things have worked out perfectly. i also put on my light brackets (safety is sexy) and my bell with a brontosaurus on it. my favorite thing to do with my new trusty steed is to ride home after dark and go really, really fast past the graveyard right by campus while whistling. that is living.

last friday, i went to a party at a professor's house. i don't know what i expected, but this was not it. i drank two sparks, one secretly, before leaving so that if any of my professors were there i wouldn't be too nervous, and if there were any boys there i wouldn't blush. well, i got there, and my scariest professor was there, but he was wearing flannel and didn't want to talk about school at all. he touched my classmate's hair, and laughed a lot. i did blush quite a bit, though, i'm pretty sure. i went into the bathroom with other girls a lot, used a professor's 1. mouthwash 2. hand lotion, actually opened a beer with my lighter and then cut the heck out of my hand when i tried to be smooth and do it again later, and got overstimulated about a dozen times and had to go outside. the whole thing came to an end (for me) when carolann and i got in separate but parallel shouting matches - an italian was trying to ask carolann out on a date, and the classmate with the hair was trying to tell me that i'm smarter than him, or at least make more valuable comments in class, and if there's one thing i cannot abide it's an intellectual compliment. we're all intelligent. that's why we're in grad school. we don't have to debate the nuances. end of story.

the next day, i saw darjeeling limited again. if it's not clear yet that i just don't really care what other people say, this will prove it: i was and still am crazy about it. i don't want to talk about it here, and may not want to talk about it in person seeing as a small guy with glasses pretty much took up all my talking-about-wes-anderson-films quota for the year at carolann's party last month, but i really loved it. so there.

then i went to dinner with my aunt and uncle and grandparents and got sent home with the following: 1. a bag of fresh produce 2. chocolate-covered cranberries 3. a lollipop 4. cashmere socks. having relatives never gets any less incredible.