La Entropista

In defense: I am not a toast snatcher. I like it, but I can goddamn well live without it. Giggling and scurrying are not my m.o. Quit being a lying liar. And OMG I jsut saw the poem. What the fucking fuck? Cocksucker of the limp dick kind. I am SO going to be on your sister tonight.

That said, I am almost done. Only one paper and compilation of grades to go, then I’m a free woman. For the time being. Except for threading. And cleaning. And the thing that shall not be named. And figuring out how to wear this shark fin hood for graduation tomorrow. Tonight I will raise my 40 of King Cobra and toast this place with a one finger salute. Skoal!

The color of hoods awarded to persons receiving advanced degrees symbolize the institution granting the degrees and the discipline in which the degrees are awarded.

MSN, sensing my agitation, posts this. Generally I find  the question (and its defense) idiotic and not worth consideration, but here are a couple answers that I particulary enjoyed:

5. Why limit myself to being dissatisfied by one relationship when I can be dissatisfied by an infinite variety?

and…

7. It’s easy to become married. Millions of people do it every year. If you want to pressure me to become something, hey, why not pick something a little more challenging—like an astrophysicist.

Sister, be forewarned, if any of those old ladies at your wedding pose this question to me I’m going to talk about my vibrator. And not the little one.

A little euro-humor, care of Kelly:

Euro-Heaven is where the police are British, the cooks are French, the mechanics German, the lovers Italian, and every detail is coordinated by the Swiss. Euro-Hell is where the chefs are British, the mechanics French, the lovers Swiss, the police German, and it’s organized by the Italians.

But of course, we already knew that. The new question is:

What would you call the scenario where the German is the lover ???

The answer:  Kinky, of course.

Touch the monkey, daaahlink.

So: Don’t understand why he doesn’t figure in to all this, as they are a member of the E.U.

P.S.: What’s up, Norway? Not a bunch of joiners, are we?

And: What the heck is Fyrom?

I HATE IT when they go and invent new countries on me.

There are some benefits to being a research slave to professors. One of those might be using equipment like this, procured from the Santa Ana Police Department:

One can scare the shit out of fellow drivers on the freeway, however this is not recommended for those of you in Southern California as you can get shot for real for any kind of perceived social infraction on the roads down here.

One can also pretend like one is James Bond in the Bank of America parking lot, fighting crime by day

and mixing martinis by night. Sign her up for the secret service, already.

If your own spy adventures happen to take you to Berlin on June 10th, then you might want to check this out. D Strauss is spinning for the 3 Jahr EXBERLINER Party and if I were there I would SO be there.

Tonight I go to Los Angeles to attend a screening of a film that comes out the next day, and the composer of the film will be there to talk about the score and take Q & A from the adoring audience of composers and lyricists and random urban planning grad students and the like. I am going to promise my companion that I will not raise my hand and ask “why is you so fake?” and “why be your talking all a lie?” like Dyer was going to do at my PR presentation. Bastard.

But before I go I’m attending the Uni awards ceremony to pick up my giant check for 38 million dollars so I can go to Bora Bora, oops, I mean my certificate or whatever so I can put it on my wall with the Post-urban Naturalist and announce that we are passing the “what exactly did we do to deserve this?” award on to Waen and Suzy who seem to be just as clueless yet accomplished as we are.

After I don’t make a fool of myself at the Hollywood thing, I’m going back to the hotel and room-servicing me a gigantor hamburger and belgian fries in a stand-up cup with REAL egg-yolky mayonnaise and chocolate lava cake so I don’t have to waste precious time actually leaving the room to eat to accompany my deep blue Manolo slingbacks and my 10 lbs of stinky cheese I got from the Society. There has been a request for the striped sock/clog combination instead but that really depends on what the counter-offer turns out to be. It better involve raclette. And spanking. Just kidding, I have enough cheese.

Then on Friday night I’m going to an event at Bergamot Station, which is ironic as I need to be using the time I spend attending the event writing up said example of adaptive reuse of a light industrial site as a case study for Studio class.

P.S. I got my hair cut yesterday and after 4 and a half hours of being in the salon and dealing with colorists and “hair designers” and counter boyz with attitude I came out looking, well, just about the same. Hooray for globalization.

SCHOOL OF SOCIAL ECOLOGY

GRADUATE STUDENT AWARDS 2004-2005

ARCHITECTURE FOUNDATION OF ORANGE COUNTY PRIZE FOR EXCELLENCE IN URBAN AND REGIONAL PLANNING

Post-Urban Naturalist

WATSON FUND AWARD

other dude other dude other dude La Entropista

There better be COLD HARD CASH associated with this, or at least a huge-ass shiny trophy.

Kelly forwarded this piece from the Wall Street Journal via Planetizen’s International Planning section about Berlin. It’s a nice little synopsis about why Berlin did not develop into the global city we all had anticipated when the wall came down. Funny they didn’t mention the airport issue.

The LAB: adaptive reuse of light industrial site

Here is further evidence that master planning should be left to actual urban planners, and not celebrity architects.

this is what an urban planner looks like

Urban Cartography had a call for authors a while back, as noted by my favorite new urbanist. Guess who will be talking out of her ass over there now? Yeah, advanced apologies.