But, you know: it is parked on a public street, Babe.

Push me too far, and I'll get it jump-started, re-register it, and park it across the street from you.

Then you can look at it every day. And so can the neighbors across the street who got us cited by the city for leaving our trash cans on the street overnight, the night before trash day. And oh, what fun you'll have with them, in any event!

(I know, I know: A the H won't agree to insuring the old car for another few months, and it's a mean, petty idea anyway. But somehow at this moment the notion really pleases me.

Perhaps I am a mean, petty person. Or perhaps I'm still recovering from a particularly grueling move, and tomorrow I'll go jump-start the honorable old warhorse, like a good girl.)

Posted by: Attila Girl at 03:49 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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By the time I have these systems installed in my parents' homes, I'm hoping they will have a red alert—complete with flashing alarm and buzzers—that will let me know if they have any fun, so I can call them up and tell 'em to knock it off.

Of course, 3-4 decades down the line when my nieces and nephews are catering to my every whim looking after me, all the kinks will be worked out, and I'll get notices by email: "the System tells us you didn't get out of bed today. Are you all right?"

"Fine," I'll respond. "I was just reading a good book, so I didn't bother. However, I'm on my last 100 pages or so, and I know who the killer is, anyway. Bring over some more weed, booze, and pizza, mmkay?"

Oh. I mean, "medical marijuana." Does THC go bad? 'Cause, like, maybe I should be stocking up now.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:18 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Yup. I started going to my local one several years ago, after I gave up acrylic tips on my fingernails, and just had my toes done when I felt like it (usually during the summer).

The Vietnamese salon doesn't just have better prices than the white-run salon: it also has "spa chairs," in which one sits up high in a massaging chair with a basin of water underneath it, and less guilt (the women don't have to hunch down quite as far to reach one's toes). They throw in a few minutes of massage for free, and one can pay an extra five bucks for an extra five minutes.

There is also a Korean-run salon near one of my main clients' offices, and that is more unusual on the West Coast, though I understand in New York there are a number of Korean manicurists.

I think it's kind of cool that there are professions immigrants can study in their native languages to ease the transition into this country.

Oh, wait: I must pander to my culturally far-right, border-obsessed readers. Sorry. I'm outraged that instruction is offered in Vietnamese; people must learn English if they intend to live here! IT'S CALLED ASSIMILATION! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!!!!!one!!!!eleven!!!

h/t: Virginia Postrel.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:00 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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. . . on seeing American culture with fresh eyes, from drinking to our restaurants' odd notions about portion sizes. I handle the portion-size thing by always getting a takeout container (and very often keeping a small ice chest in the back of my car); I don't know how I'd cope if I lived in a city that depended on public transportation. I guess I'd get appetizers for dinner whenever I went out. Or maybe I'd just waste a lot of food.

There is something about New York City that's ridiculously invigorating. It's just so . . . city-like. Vaguely reminiscent of San Francisco or Chicago, but ever so much more so.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 05:26 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 Thanks for the link! Re. the restaurant thing, I've been getting them to pack up what I can't finish, but now that the weather is turning warmer, I'll have to think things through a bit better first. The public transportation thing isn't usually a problem--we walk or take cabs--but not going home directly after dinner is.

Posted by: Sean Kinsell at May 14, 2008 07:11 AM (qUYIO)

2 The two things I've done (besides ordering appetizer-size portions) are: (1) eating vegetarian when I go out [because it takes things longer to spoil if meat isn't part of the equation]; carrying those folding nylon lunch boxes/mini-coolers with me [the soft-sided ones--I use a six-pack size, but the make 'em smaller]; and (3) if premeditation is required [that is, if I'm going out to dinner and a movie, say] using those pre-frozen mini-blue blocks people use to pack with their lunches, and throwing one of those into the nylon leftover case as an insurance policy. Beyond that, we could stage a revolt, and have normal eaters start picketing American restaurants that don't serve any small portions whatsoever

Posted by: Attila Girl at May 14, 2008 12:10 PM (Hgnbj)

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