The one where I discuss my unmentionables

I am going to break one of my cardinal rules and write about something I promised myself that I would never discuss in public: underwear, specifically my underwear, and even more specifically, bras.

In case you don't know, buying a bra is not as simple as going to the store, grabbing something, and paying for it at the counter. Different brands, styles, and designs all fit you differently -- pretty much like all clothing, actually. There are stores that actually specialize in bra fittings to make sure that you are wearing the right size. (Yes, I've been measured on occasion.)

Yet, despite weight fluctuations, I've been the exact same size since I turned 17 -- and coincidentally, I am also the average size for American women. Like most people, I have certain brands and styles that I like, and it changes from time to time. Right now I'm going through a phase where I love Simone Perele, a French brand.

All of this brings me to the bra in question. A few months ago, I was somehow convinced to buy a very expensive bra from a very well-known high-end label. I think it started as an experiment in trying to figure out why people would spend so much money on a plain old bra. But just like when I try on expensive shoes, the serotonin rush takes over and I fall in love. Regardless of the item being purchased -- shoes, clothes, cosmetics -- it all ends the same: a swipe of the credit card and a brief feeling of elation, followed by regret.

I am still embarrassed to admit how much money I spent, but in my defense, the bra fit great in the store. Once I got it home, however, it turned out to be among the worst bras that I have ever purchased. About halfway through the day, the fabric starts feeling itchy and uncomfortable, the straps start stretching out, and then when I move, one of the cups slips into an awkward position. I bet I could find a bra in Walmart that fits better.

As a result, this insanely overpriced bra is now relegated to the back of my drawer, for emergency use only.

I was wearing it yesterday because I really need to do laundry. Late last night, I was on the phone with my brother (who I hope is not reading this) and I had a weird itch on my shoulder. I touched my shoulder and felt something strange. Apparently, the fabric covering the bra strap had started to disintegrate, leaving random bits and pieces of sheer, glittery, beige fabric stuck to my skin.

So here is the most expensive single piece of lingerie that I own falling apart while I am still wearing it. It is disgusting, not to mention disappointing. Most importantly it is, once again, a reminder that price, reputation, and celebrity endorsements are not necessarily indicative of quality. Be warned.

The Umbrella Theorem

I'm leaving for vacation in a few hours. I'm on the verge of going computer-free for the entire week. I hope I don't go through withdrawal.

In preparing for the week off, I had to make sure my work was covered. So I had to go from office to office to talk to the coworkers that were covering for me, to explain the status of the various projects that they would be covering. It was during my last conversation, with one of my colleagues that I've known since my first day in the office, I realized that this is an extrapolation of the Umbrella Theorem.

I learned about the Umbrella Theorem almost ten years ago, when I first started working. My coworkers and I would, occasionally, head out to lunch. We'd meet at the elevator bank and head downstairs. On occasion, someone would note the presence or absence of an umbrella. Eventually, I realized what it meant: If you're heading outside and see clouds in the sky, you bring your umbrella -- not to avoid the rain, but to prevent it. And so, the Umbrella Theorem became a part of my life. I always bring my umbrella -- because, more often than not, it seems as if the Universe only enacts its revenge when I'm unprepared.

So, today, as I was making sure that my boss, my coworkers, and my assistant were fully informed about my vacation, the cases, and whatever issues might arise, it was not in real preparation for dealing with anything, but was really a prophylactic measure against anything happening. And at the exact moment I realized what I was doing, my colleague figured it out too. "This is like bringing the umbrella along to lunch," he said. I laughed, "Exactly."

It's the same thing for the BlackBerry -- I could leave it at home and attempt to totally unplug. But, in my mind the Umbrella Theorem prevents it: if I leave the BlackBerry at home, there will, undoubtedly, be an emergency. And so, I'm bringing it with me. As I said to my boss, there's only so much unplugging I'm capable of. Baby steps.

Customs

I am going to wind up on a no-fly list sooner rather than later. Not for terrorist activity, mind you, but because I am a jerk. Particularly before I've had my morning coffee.

This story took place a few weeks ago, in June, when I was flying home from St. Thomas. No wait -- let me go back further than that, to give you the background.

In case you didn't know, St. Thomas is one of the United States Virgin Islands. As in United States. As in where I am a citizen, where I live, and -- save for those few months in London when I was in college -- where I've always lived.

I've been flying back and forth to the USVI for work for about the last year -- maybe a little more, maybe less. To fly home, you have to go through customs -- fill out a form, show identification, declare what you're bringing into the country. Since I've been there on business, I haven't really been coming back with a lot of souvenirs -- maybe a t-shirt or two for my nephew, a cheap pair of earrings, a shot glass. Not much. And as for the identification, I've shown them my driver's license and, if they ask, my official government ID badge. Usually I pass right through -- occasionally the Homeland Security guys flirt with me.

The last trip home was a nightmare. I had been working nonstop, and was rushing to get home. I booked myself an 8am Saturday morning flight out. Of course, on Friday afternoon, a tropical wave started hitting the island, and the rain had been coming down in sheets for hours. I had to leave the resort before 5:30 to return the rental car and get to the airport, and of course, the shuttle wasn't running to take me from the main building down the hill to the parking lot. So I covered myself up as best as I could with my sweatshirt and ran down the hill in the pouring rain, with two suitcases and a carry on. At the foot of the hill, the water came up past my ankles. When I got in the car, I was drenched. When I got to the airport, before checking-in (but after returning the rental car), I ran into the bathroom to change into dry clothes. I then waited on a very long line to check-in, and an even longer, slower line, to get through customs. My flight is at 8 -- and, by the time I get to the front of the line, it is after 7. I haven't even made it to security yet.

Of course the agent asked for my passport. I don't have my passport. He then asked for my birth certificate. I don't have my birth certificate. I have my driver's license. I have at least two official government IDs. I have my Voter's Registration Card. He tells me that I need to have either a passport or my birth certificate.

In the last year, I have never been asked for my passport or birth certificate. And, as far as I knew, I didn't need either.

The Border Patrol website says:

Q: Do travelers from U.S. territories need to present a passport to enter the United States?

A: No. These territories are a part of the United States. U.S. citizens returning directly from a U.S. territory are not considered to have left the U.S. and do not need to present a passport. U.S. territories include the following: Guam, Puerto Rico, the U.S. Virgin Islands, American Samoa, Swains Island and the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands. If the traveler also visited non-U.S. territories, he/she is required to present a passport.

Although U.S. citizens are not required to present a passport upon departure from the U.S. territories, travelers are encouraged to travel with a passport or other proof of citizenship, as they will be asked questions about citizenship and any goods they will be bringing to the U.S. mainland upon their departure from U.S. territories.

But the rules might not be that clear, at least according to a giant poster on the wall, which says:

US Citizens

No passports are required for US Virgin Islands travel.

The Western Hemisphere Travel Initiative requiring passports will not affect travel between the United States and its territories. U.S. citizens traveling between the United States, Puerto Rico, and the U.S. Virgin islands will continue to be able to use established forms of identification, such as birth certificates and government-issued photo ID, to board flights and for entry. Vaccinations are not required.

The following are usually accepted as Proofs of U.S. Citizenship:

* a valid U.S. passport -or-
* Certified copy of birth certificate plus government issued photo ID -or-
* Official U.S. government document verifying citizenship
* Certificate of citizenship
* Certificate of naturalization
* Consular report of birth abroad of a U.S. Citizen
* Valid photo I.D. (Photo I.D.'s are not applicable for minors up to 16 years of age.)

NOTE: A Voter's registration card is NOT valid proof of U.S. Citizenship.

I tell the agent that I have nothing except what I've shown him. I comment about how going to a U.S. territory is not leaving the U.S. I add "Since when do you need a photo ID and your birth certificate to board a plane in the U.S.?"

He tells me I should have my birth certificate, but it would be better if I just traveled with my passport. I say I do not ordinarily travel with my birth certificate, and do not have my passport with me. This goes around and around in circles. He is getting annoyed with me, and I asked for a supervisor.

Finally he starts typing into his computer. He asks about my business on the island, my employer. When he learns that I am a lawyer, he says, "Of course." Then he asks where I was born. I say "New York City." He says, "Where is that?" I, of course, say "Are you serious?"

He glared at me. He was serious. Dead serious. He types something else into the computer. At this point, I've moved beyond mere petulance to full-force obnoxious smug superiority. So I explain that New York City is, indeed, in the State of New York, which is in the United States of America. He angrily types into the computer, and finally, lets me go. As I'm gathering my stuff to leave, he says, "Next time just bring your passport or your birth certificate."

Lucky for me, I had to race to get to the plane, and kept my mouth shut. Otherwise I'm not sure if I'd have made it home.

Flu vaccine game theory

One of the things people don't know about me is that, in college, I minored in Humanities -- which, if you don't understand, roughly translates into me minoring in being a dilettante. To complete the minor, I had to complete a certain number of units in a certain number of disciplines. Since it's been 15 years, I can only remember four of them -- Art History, Theater, Spanish (Yes, I can translate Spanish poetry -- or in my case, lyrics to pop songs), and Economics.

(Cue "One of these things is not like the other.")

Yes, Economics. Which mostly means that I was the only hippie in a class full of libertarians studying Law and Economics. But which also means that I have a slightly better-than-average understanding of concepts like game theory.

Last night, I was thinking about this in the context of the flu vaccine. You see, I was out with a friend and mentioned that I got my flu shot, and she, in turn, noted that she did not plan on getting a flu shot this year because she never gets the flu. My mind started racing with the implications.

Ideally, the flu vaccine works best when large populations are vaccinated. But it bears a cost -- money, time, pain. Moreover, people can't really prove that the flu shot works -- if they get the flu shot and don't get the flu, they can't just assume that it worked. They may have a natural immunity or may not have been exposed to the virus. But if they get the vaccine and it doesn't work, they know.

So what is the vaccine other than a way of hedging your bet? If you decide not to get the flu vaccine, aren't you really just counting on the probability that the people you come in contact with are not contagious, i.e. got their vaccine?

Clearly some economist or public policy grad student out there needs to contemplate this more fully.

The value of having alternatives

This evening, I came out on the winning side of a negotiation with a ticket scalper. And, in retrospect, I think that almost all of my negotiations with scalpers turn out well. So, I've decided to pass my wisdom on to everyone here.

Here goes:

To win in a negotiation you have to have alternatives. If you are desperate to buy or sell your tickets, YOU WILL LOSE.

Here's an example. I was in Pittsburgh several years ago, and wanted to go to a Pirates game. It was about 7:15, 10 minutes after the game started. I was walking across the Roberto Clemente bridge, on my way up to the stadium ticket office, and the scalpers started trying to sell to me. They weren't giving me any kind of deal, so I kept walking. One finally asked me what I wanted. I said, "The game's already started. I can buy a ticket from you, or I can buy a ticket from the gate. You can't get a refund on the tickets you're holding. So it's your choice whether you want to deal with me." I got the ticket, lower deck behind home plate, about 1/3 of the way down, for $10.

Tonight was no different. At work, I told one of my coworkers that it would be my goal to trade my two decent upper-deck seats for one good seat in the lower deck.

So, when I got out of Metro this evening, I turned to the first scalper who asked me if I had extra tickets and told him I had a pair. He asked me what I wanted. I said "Face value." He said he couldn't give me that, the best he could do was half. I started walking. He then offered me an extra $10. I told him no and kept on walking. This exact same scenario played out a couple of times.

Finally, the last scalper decided to have a conversation with me. I told him that I had a pair of tickets, and would part with one or both of them, but not for less than face value -- and that I knew that there were plenty of Red Sox fans willing to pay. At first he protested. He explained that he couldn't pay me face value because then he wouldn't have any room to negotiate with the buyers.

Since this guy took the time to explain his predicament, rather than walking away, I explained my position: I wanted to go to the game, but I had alternatives. I could sell both tickets, at a premium, and try to buy a single ticket. I could use one ticket and sell the other, probably for less, but still for a fair amount. Or I could use one ticket and trade in the unused one for a different game -- which means I'd get full value for it.

In other words, I had alternatives, all of which were more palatable than selling him my pair of tickets for less than face value. If he wanted my pair of tickets, he'd have to give me what I wanted.

So finally, he offered a trade. One ticket in the lower deck, on the first base side, about halfway down, on the aisle. A $40 ticket for my pair of $20 tickets.

I took him up on the offer. I got exactly what I wanted.

BBC Book List Meme

The BBC believes most people will have only read 6 of the 100 books here. How do your reading habits stack up?

Instructions: Look at the list and put an 'X' after those you have read.

1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen ()
2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien (X)
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte (X)
4. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling (X)
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee (X)
6. The Bible (x) (Most of it, anyway.)
7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte (X)
8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell (X)
9. His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman ()
10. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens ()
11. Little Women - Louisa M Alcott (X)
12. Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy (X)
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller (X)
14. Complete Works of Shakespeare (X)
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier (X)
16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien (X)
17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk ( )
18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger (X)
19. The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger (X)
20. Middlemarch - George Eliot ( )
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell (X)
22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald (X)
23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens ()
24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy ()
25. The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams (X)
26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh (X)
27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (X)
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck (X)
29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll (X)
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame ()
31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy ( )
32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens ( )
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis ()
34. Emma - Jane Austen ()
35. Persuasion - Jane Austen ()
36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis (X) (doesn't 33 cover this?)
37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini - (X)
38. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres ( )
39. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden ()
40. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne (X)
41. Animal Farm - George Orwell (X)
42. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown (X)
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez (X)
44. A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving ( )
45. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins ( )
46. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery (X) (and all the sequels too.)
47. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy ( )
48. The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood (X) (All women should read this book!)
49. Lord of the Flies - William Golding (X)
50. Atonement - Ian McEwan (X)
51. Life of Pi - Yann Martel (X)
52. Dune - Frank Herbert ()
53. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons ()
54. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen ()
55. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth ()
56. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon ()
57. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens ()
58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley ()
59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon ()
60. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez (X)
61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck (X)
62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov (X)
63. The Secret History - Donna Tartt ( )
64. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold ()
65. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas (X)
66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac (X)
67. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy ()
68. Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding (X)
69. Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie (X)
70. Moby Dick - Herman Melville (X)
71. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens (X)
72. Dracula - Bram Stoker (X)
73. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett (X)
74. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson ()
75. Ulysses - James Joyce () (Started it three times, though.)
76. The Inferno - Dante (X)
77. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome ()
78. Germinal - Emile Zola ()
79. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray ()
80. Possession - AS Byatt ()
81. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens (X)
82. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell ()
83. The Color Purple - Alice Walker ()
84. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro ()
85. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert ()
86. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry ()
87. Charlotte’s Web - EB White (X) (Yet, as much as I love this book, it's not nearly as dear to me as his style manual.)
88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom ()
89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle () (do some count?)
90. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton ()
91. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad (X)
92. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery (X)
93. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks ()
94. Watership Down - Richard Adams ()
95. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole ()
96. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute ()
97. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas (X)
98. Hamlet - William Shakespeare (X)
99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl (X)
100. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo ()

I count 52. I can do better.

Bucket List Meme

Place an X by all the things you've done and remove the X from the ones you have not, then send it to your friends (including me).


THINGS YOU HAVE DONE DURING YOUR LIFETIME:
(X) Gone on a blind date
(X) Skipped school
(X) Watched someone die
( ) Been to Canada
( ) Been to Mexico
(X) Been to Florida
( ) Been to Hawaii
(X) Been on a plane
( ) Been on a helicopter
(X) Gotten lost
(X) Visited Washington, DC
(X) Swam in the ocean
(X) Cried yourself to sleep-
(X) Played cops and robbers
(X) Recently colored with crayons
(X) Sang Karaoke
(X) Paid for a meal with coins only
( ) Been to the top of the St. Louis Arch
(X) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't.
(X) Made prank phone calls
(X) Been down Bourbon Street in New Orleans
(X) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(X) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
(X) Danced in the rain
(X) Written a letter to Santa
(X) Kissed under the mistletoe
(X) Watched the sunrise with someone
(X) Blown bubbles
(X) Gone ice-skating
(X) Gone to the movies
( ) Been deep sea fishing
( ) Driven across the United States
( ) Been in a hot air balloon
( ) Been sky diving
( ) Gone snowmobiling
(X) Lived in more than one country
(X) Lived in more than one State/Province
(X) Admired the stars while listening to the crickets
(X) Wished upon a falling star
( ) Enjoyed the beauty of Old Faithful Geyser
( ) Visited the Statue of Liberty
( ) Gone to the top of Seattle Space Needle
(X) Been on a cruise
(X) Traveled by train
( ) Traveled by motorcycle
(X) Been horse back riding
( ) Hiked through a slot canyon
(X) Ridden on a San Francisco CABLE CAR
(X) Been to Disneyland or Disney World
( ) Truly believe in the power of prayer
( ) Hiked through a rain forest
( ) Gone whale-watching
( ) Been to Niagara Falls
( ) Ridden on an elephant
( ) Swam with dolphins
( ) Gone to the Olympics
( ) Walked on the Great Wall of China
( ) Witnessed a glacier calf
(X) Gone White Water Rafting
( ) Been spinnaker flying
( ) Been water-skiing(or tried to)
( ) Been snow-skiing/snowboarding
(X) Been to Westminster Abbey
(X) Been to the Louvre / Prado
( ) Swam in the Mediterranean
(X) Been to a Major League Baseball game
(X) Been to a National Football League game
(X) Been to National Hockey League game

Public Service

Not only is it Free Slurpee Day -- 7/11, get it? -- but it's also Cow Appreciation Day.

This is how Chick-fil-A celebrates:

Political horoscopes

I read this L.A. Times article about the presidential candidates' handwriting, and I am of two minds about it. On the one hand, looking at the candidates' handwriting and trying to get a feel for their personalities is somewhat humanizing. The graphic is particularly illustrative: McCain is "intense yet private," Clinton is "controlled, smart and forceful," Obama "deals with different people and situations well."

On another level, handwriting analysis seems akin to analyzing the effect that birth order had on their development -- which is, to say, about as insightful as reading their astrological chart. If you look hard enough, you can find something there to support the inferences that you've already drawn.

But don't take my word for it: I researched the candidate's horoscopes. Here are my conclusions:

• Obama is a Leo, so he is a "natural born leader", "well organized, idealistic and [has] a knack for inspiring others."
• Clinton is a Scorpio, which means that she's "overbearing," "stubborn" and doesn't "know the word quit."
• McCain is a Virgo, so he's "picky and critical," "exacting," and "practical and logical."

This is deep and insightful, right?

Interesting quizzes

Yesterday, Gene Weingarten's chat linked to two face recognition tests. I only missed one on the celebrity quiz, but I only scored an 86% on the regular test. Clearly this means that way too much of my brain is devoted to utter nonsense.

Then, today, my brother sent me this quiz where the complete lyrics for a well-known rock song placed in alphabetical order, with each word appearing no more than once (regardless of how many times it appears in the actual song) - and you're supposed to guess the song.

It's harder than it looks, but, as I just noted, I'm pretty good at nonsense. I spent about twenty minutes on it, and, on first glance, I was sure of 31 of the 50. When I spent a little time thinking about it, I came up with ideas about another 6 or 7, which as luck would have it, turned out to be mostly right.

Let me know how you do.

Game theory

At work, I'm taking this negotiation skills workshop that involves all sorts of little role-playing exercises. One involved a variation on game theory -- two teams are at war with each other, you both have 100 missiles, and can either try to annihilate each other or work something out.

My first instinct was total and complete annihilation. I think that's always my starting point.

My team was more open-minded. The majority decided that we should start destroying our own missiles as a sign of goodwill. In the back of my mind, the entire time, I was convinced that the other side was just lulling us into complacency. The prisoner's dilemma, yadda yadda yadda.

I was wrong. Surprisingly, my coworkers -- all lawyers -- are honorable people, people of their word, and both sides managed to negotiate a solution where there was no loss of life, and an almost complete destruction of both arsenals. Win-win.

I keep coming back to the same thought, though: If I had been allowed to follow my instincts, I would have caused World War III. Clearly this means that I need to work on some trust issues. For the greater good.

Trial, day 21 -- a look back

So, we finally finished the trial today, and I got to drive back from Newark with a car full of boxes. But now the fun (read: briefing) begins.

But let's focus on other things for a minute. Like how different things are now, versus where they were on January 15:

• When this trial began, it was the beginning of winter. Now it's almost Spring.
• When this trial began, Mitt Romney looked like a viable candidate, and Hillary Clinton was the Democratic front-runner. Back then, the Republicans were playing attack ads, and the Democrats were playing nice. Now John McCain has the Republican nomination sewn up, and Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama are fighting it out for the Democratic nomination.
• Since this trial began, I have had two changes to my salary, and I got a new boss. (actually my boss's boss's boss, but who's counting?)
• When this trial began, I hadn't stayed in a Hilton in the better part of a year. Now I have either gold or silver Hilton Honors status.
• When this trial began, I only knew of two good restaurants in Newark. Now I could direct people to at least six. (Unfortunately, five of them have very similar Portuguese food.)
• Since this trial began, I have eaten more M&M cookies than I could count -- more than any time since my childhood.
• Since this trial began, I have been to the gym approximately four times.
• When this trial began, I was eight pounds lighter, and one dress size smaller.
• When this trial began, I had two parents and two grandmothers. Now I only have one of each.

The Sanitization of Wikipedia

I didn't mean to blog about Project Runway. I meant to blog about Wikipedia. Specifically, this article I read about, how, for some reason, Wikipedia seems to have a hair trigger on sanitizing entries about our Dear President, but how the same heavy hand is not being used to edit the entries about certain ex-Presidents.

Here's the main point of the article:

For example, Wikipedia's main Bill Clinton article manages to mention every single fringe right-wing nutcase allegation ever made against the 42nd president.

By contrast, the main Wikipedia article on George W. Bush has been carefully sanitized. It clearly aims to present Bush in the most favorable light possible. Frankly, the Bush article looks like a love letter from Karl Rove.

Now, don't get me wrong: I like Wikipedia. A lot. I've said as much before. But I also understand that the whole wiki- thing can be used (or perhaps abused) to specific advantages, as long as there's someone out there being vigilant enough. So I guess the moral of the story is that you need to check alternative sources -- or the footnotes to the Wikipedia article -- before you rely on Wikipedia as gospel.

But what I really got out of the article is this:

If Wikipedia was free of bias, one might think that the main Bush article would include at least a mention of the Margie Schoedinger sexual assault allegation against Bush.

And just who is Margie Schoedinger?

She was a 38-year-old Texas woman who filed a sexual assault lawsuit against George W. Bush in December 2002.

Oh, and there's one other interesting detail: the next year, Schoedinger was found dead of a gunshot wound.

***

But instead, the Schoedinger case was completely ignored by the U.S. media, with the sole exception of the small local Texas newspaper (The Fort Bend Star) that originally reported the story. Her case remains extremely obscure. To this day, very few people have ever heard of her.

Now that's something I never heard before. Why the heck do we have a free press in this country if they're not covering this kind of thing?

Leisure sickness

During law school, I would get sick almost immediately after exams. It was as if the second I stopped being busy, the germs would take hold, and I'd be incapacitated for a couple of days. And not just the sniffles. Really honest-to-god running-a-fever can't-get-out-of-bed non-functioning sick.

At the beginning, my mother was frustrated by this phenomenon. Then she started thinking that it was funny. She'd make comments like, "Well, I'd plan on doing {insert activity here}, but you're going to be sick anyway. . . ."

When I started working, it was like that whenever I had a major deadline or a trial -- as soon as it was over, I'd be sick. And right now, I'm about 98% sure that it'll happen after my big trial this month.

So, last week, in The Washington Post, they had a whole article on the phenomenon of leisure sickness. Apparently, I'm not the only one who gets sick the second she relaxes.

Ad Vingerhoets, an associate professor of clinical health psychology at Tilburg University in the Netherlands, calls it "leisure sickness." Just when you take a break from your busy schedule to enjoy a little relaxation, your leisure time becomes anything but -- full of aches and pains, cold- and flulike symptoms and other health complaints.

***

The underlying cause of the problem, according to Vingerhoets, appears to have a lot to do with stress.

***

But Esther Sternberg, a researcher of neuroendocrine immunology at the National Institutes of Health, disagrees. Sternberg, the author of "The Balance Within: The Science Connecting Health and Emotions," calls leisure sickness a real condition, tied to the release of hormones under stress and their interaction with the nervous and immune systems.

In times of stress, the body's adrenal glands release adrenaline, which makes the heart beat faster and causes you to feel sweaty and anxious. Adrenaline gives a boost to the immune system, the body's defense against infection, Sternberg said. But while adrenaline is pumping, so is cortisol -- a potent anti-inflammatory hormone also released by the adrenal glands.

"The reason [cortisol] works as an anti-inflammatory is because it's turning off the immune cells," Sternberg said. ". . . You're no longer able to effectively fight infection."

The two hormones are timed differently, with adrenaline starting up and shutting down within milliseconds, much faster than cortisol, which takes five to 10 minutes.

"What happens when you stop doing what it is you were doing that stressed you is that the adrenaline shuts off first," Sternberg said. "You are left with this cortisol floating around. And if at that moment someone coughs in your face, you get sick."

I feel vindicated. Take that, Mom!

Auto Repair 101

Sure, I know things about sports and I work in a male-dominated field, but on many levels, I am still a very girly girl.

I admit, here and now, that I know next to nothing about cars. I haven't the foggiest idea how they work.* I mean, yeah, I know there's a gasoline-powered engine and wheels -- but after that, I'm clueless. So I do all recommended preventative maintenance -- no matter how ridiculous it is. But if something goes wrong, I am left with two options: (1) Asking for help; (2) Paying for services that I don't understand -- and potentially don't need.

Anyone who reads this blog should have deduced by now that I am probably not so good with option #1. And, in all honesty, the males with whom I would consult about an auto-related issue are probably as clueless as I am, but are even more loathe to admit it because of their intrinsic male-ness. But nevertheless, I occasionally take this approach -- usually as a precautionary step to determine whether I'm over- (or under-) reacting.

The car -- my cute little pride and joy -- is six years old, and was just on the threshold of 30,000 miles. Over the winter -- 2500 or so miles ago -- I started worrying about my tires because of the age of the car, but I took the car in for maintenance, they said that the tires were fine. So I stopped worrying.

A couple of weeks ago, when my sister was visiting, my front driver's side tire started to look a little flat. I checked the pressure, added some air, and all seemed fine. It was still fine when I drove to Harrisburg (which was also the day the car passed 30,000 miles). Last weekend, the tire looked a little flat again. I checked the pressure, and it was very low. So I put air in it and went to Target. By the time I got out of Target, it looked low again. I figured that I must have done something wrong, so I drove across the street to the nearest gas station, and repeated the process.

When I went to go take the car out on Friday night, the stupid tire was low again. I emailed a friend to ask how I would know whether I needed new tires. He told me that I should check to see if there was a slow leak by inflating the tire to the right pressure, and then checking it again in a day or two.** I told him that I'd probably wind up taking it to a shop, out of laziness -- but with the knowledge that they would probably try to sell me tires even if I really didn't need them.

So, Saturday, around lunchtime, I took the car to put more air in the tire. It didn't seem to help, so I drove the car to the first tire place I came upon after leaving my house. But to be honest, I made this decision not just because of proximity, but because the place at issue had the word "Tire" in its name. I figured that, like with Dunkin' Donuts, if you advertise something in your title, it should be safe to assume that you're an expert at it.

Anyway, I told the guy at the desk what was wrong, and he went out to take a look at it. He agreed with me, that it looked flat, and that he could have it taken back into the repair bay, where they would charge me $30 to fix the tire, or, in the alternative, would let me know that it was irreparable, and that all of this would take approximately one half-hour. I agreed with this treatment strategy, signed the estimate, and waited in the lobby, where they had Star Wars Episode III playing in the background -- you know, the one where Hayden Christiansen goes from whiny and annoying Anakin Skywalker to crazy Darth Vader.

My car is ready about 45 minutes later -- just as Darth Vader takes his first awkward steps in the big black costume. The tire place goes to charge me the $30, but as I am fumbling around in my bag for my credit card, I ask a dangerous question: "What was wrong with it?"

"Nothing. We couldn't find anything wrong with it. There is no leak."

"Then why does it keep getting flat?"

Instead of answering, the guy starts printing out a new invoice. I have somewhere to be, so I annoyedly thrust out my credit card. He tells me not to worry about it, and he hands me a key, and an invoice that says "No Charge."

I walk out to my car, and the tire looks okay. I drive the mile back to my apartment, park in the garage, and look at the tire. It looks flat again. I am pissed. That afternoon, after various events, I have a friend look at the tire. She concurs, it looks flat. I tell my friend that I emailed earlier the story, and he tells me "You brought it to the wrong tire place."

I am even more pissed.

But, lucky for me, I have Monday off from work, which means one more day I can devote to car care. So, I went downstairs this morning to check the tire. It still looks flat. But according to my tire pressure gauge, the tire is fine.

So what do I do now?





*I do, however, know how to drive a stick shift, since I actually learned how to drive on one. I was never great at it, and I am probably way out of practice -- since the last time I drove one was back in the mid-'90s -- but I'm sure I could figure it out again.

**He also told me that after 30,000 or 40,000 miles I might notice that I'm not braking as well or taking wider turns, which would mean that the tread has worn down. But honestly, I wasn't so concerned about this, given the flatness of the tire. Not to mention that I don't think I could even begin to notice a subjective difference in braking or my turning radius.

Not enough hours in the day

For the record, I eat relatively healthily. Sure, every once in a while I have ice cream and hamburgers, but more often than not, I have salads. I've pretty much given up "white foods" -- pasta, sugar, bread, and rice. And I exercise -- not as much as I would like, but I generally go to the gym a couple of times a week, I walk outside, and I occasionally take the stairs instead of the elevator.

But apparently, it's not enough. In order to lose weight, the contestants on shows like The Biggest Loser exercise four to six hours per day.

Yeah, you read that right -- four to six hours each and every day.

I think I probably get about six hours of exercise in an entire week -- when I'm being diligent. For me to get four to six hours of exercise every day, I would have to give up sleep. Or work. Maybe both.

Nihil declarandum

I have developed a horrible habit of bookmarking things that I want to blog about, and then completely forgetting about them when something else catches my eye.

So, since I have nothing of importance to say today, here's my overly-organized version of a linkdump. It is, admittedly, ginormous. Feel free to read any or all -- or none -- of these things, and comment accordingly.

Language:
Fun with latin.
The overuse of exclamation points.
Compendium of lost words.
Rules of language, via the Columbia Journalism Review.
How to speak Yiddish.

Reading:
On The Road is 50 years old.
The greatest fictional travelers.
Children's Book: Why Mommy Is A Democrat.

Social Studies:
The most interesting scam. Ever.
Even lottery winners get the blues.
Sad story of Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake.
Congressional Food Stamp Challenge.
Fat Like Mommy.
Why we love dogs.
The Maiden Name Debate.

Music Appreciation:
Rock stars die young.
The A.V. Club's Guide to Festival Survival.
The A.V. Club's review of Lollapalooza '07.
Top 10 karaoke songs to avoid.
Name that Boy Band & Name that Hair Band Quizzes.
100 Worst Cover Songs.
The Archive of Misheard Lyrics.

Mass Media:
Median age of TV shows (and related graphic).
My So-Called Life finally on DVD.
Top Cult Shows.
TV Guilty Pleasures.
Donnie Darko, explained.
50 best high school movies.
20 Best/Worst Celebrity Blogs.
List of celebrity Scientologists.
Top 10 secret celebrity Scientologists.

Home Ec:
Guide to sweet tea.
What your drink says about you.
What your drink really says about you.

Arts & Crafts:
Subversive cross-stitch.
How to knit Space Invaders socks.



Have fun. This might take a while.

Once more, with feeling

Because I had the second crust in the fridge, I decided to try the whole pizza thing over again with a couple of changed. The most major difference: I used a pizza stone.

For the record, I have some kitchen gadgets -- popcorn popper, espresso maker, who knows what else. They're buried in the back of the cabinets, and usually I'm too lazy to find them -- so I just use the basics. But after the last pizza, I figured it was worth it to use the pizza stone.

Here's what happened:

1. Start by preheating the oven and the pizza stone to 500°:
   
   


2. Remove the low-carb whole wheat pizza crust from the fridge:
   
   
   
   Note the satisfaction guarantee:
   
   


3. Cover the pizza crust with garlic and a little bit of melted butter:
   
   


4. As suggested, coat with a thin layer of the shredded cheese:
   
   


5. Layer on thinly sliced heirloom tomatoes:
   
   
   
   Note: To slice the three medium-sized tomatoes this thinly, I placed them in an egg-slicer, and used its guidelines to cut them, using a very sharp kitchen knife. When I was finished, the slices were about 1/8 of an inch thick -- practically sheer.


6. Add thinly sliced fresh mozzarella:
   
   
   
   I used a similar technique to slice the mozzarella.


7. Add some chopped fresh basil:
   
   


8. And some parmigiano-reggiano and a dash of sea salt, and place on the pizza stone to bake for 8 minutes at 425°:
   
   

Tonight's result:



The fresh tomatoes and mozzarella still gave up some water, but almost all of it was absorbed by the initial layer of cheese. And because of the pizza stone, instead of being like soggy cardboard, the underside of the crust got very crispy.

All in all, despite the low-carb crust, it was a pretty good pizza -- mostly because of everyone who chimed in with pizza advice.

My stomach thanks you.

Thirteen

On some level, I don't disagree with the basic concept behind "All I Really Need to Know I Learned In Kindergarten." I mean, it's a gross oversimplification, but yeah, people should share and play fair and stick together, yadda yadda yadda. Unfortunately for us, it's aspirational at best. It's a great thought, but even if you somehow manage to unflinchingly live by these rules, or take yoga or prozac or whatever it is that keeps you sane, at some point the big bad world is going to kick you in the ass. You need more than kindergarten to survive.

High school helps. You learn important things like reading, writing and arithmetic, you learn how to socialize, and eventually, you learn to function as an adult -- at least as much as any of us ever learn enough to master that particular skill.

Over the weekend, I ran across this article in the New York Times about a high school in New Jersey -- coincidentally, my aunt's alma mater -- where they're having the students declare a major -- in the ninth grade.

Now, don't get me wrong -- I'm not entirely opposed to the idea of some kind of tracking. If you're the kind of student that likes english and history, and doesn't perform well in math and science, you shouldn't have to take electives in those subjects, and vice-versa. And don't get me started on how beneficial gifted, honors, and AP/IB programs are.

But the thought of forcing students to choose a major that young? That's disturbing. Especially where "they are expected to stick with their major through four years unless they have a compelling reason to change."

As Adelai Stevenson once said, "If we value the pursuit of knowledge, we must be free to follow wherever that search may lead us." This holds true, even for teenagers.

Making serious life decisions as a freshman in high school? Yikes. At that point, kids only see the present -- they have no real appreciation of the past, and no real concept of the future -- or how the choices that they make are what gets them there. How can you possibly expect them to understand the consequences of their decisions when you haven't yet taught them that -- when you're only just starting to give them the proper tools to make the decisions?

An example:

Nicole Hutchison, 14, starting at Dwight Morrow next month, likes to make people feel better, so she imagines herself becoming a doctor, nurse or cosmetologist. But she picked performing arts because she loves to dance — and, she said, because she had not given much thought to the other options. “I think I’m too young to make a decision because I might change my mind later on,” she said.

Is that a cop out? Maybe. But at least it's better than her classmate:

Two years ago, Akelia applied to the magnet program’s law and public safety academy because she wanted to be a lawyer. But after finding many of the legal cases boring and hard to relate to, she was unable to take classes in other fields because she was locked into her specialization.

“Now I wish I had probably gone to another academy because I like computers,” said Akelia, who is 16 and starting her junior year. “When you’re 13, you don’t realize how much work you have to put in to be a lawyer. It’s not like you just go to court, and win or lose, you make a lot of money.”

Maybe it's the lawyer thing, but this struck a chord with me.

When I started high school, I was thirteen. I thought I knew everything, but in actuality, I knew nothing. True story: That year, when my mother asked me to cook something, I didn't quite comprehend the difference between using a pot versus a pan. Of course, this was just one of many reasons that my mother feared for me.

Most importantly, at thirteen, I didn't know who I was, nor who I was becoming. Two years later, it was completely different -- I was different -- but it took time. And ten years later, I had already graduated from law school. But I didn't know that then, and no one would have guessed.

If I was asked me to pick a major at thirteen, maybe -- if I thought about it seriously and didn't make the decision based on what my friends were doing -- I would have chosen journalism or creative writing. It's more likely that I would have chosen dance or art -- anything to get out of math, even though I was in honors and gifted (and later AP) classes. (My mother, half-jokingly, says that I would have majored in boys.) But no matter what, I never ever in a million years would have placed myself on a pre-law track. Heck, I might not have even put myself on a pre-college path. And I wouldn't have known any better.

Negotiating is not ladylike

I just read this Washington Post article about the salary gap between men and women -- and how women are less likely to negotiate for higher salaries. According to the article:

The traditional explanation for the gender differences that Babcock found is that men are simply more aggressive than women, perhaps because of a combination of genetics and upbringing. The solution to gender disparities, this school of thought suggests, is to train women to be more assertive and to ask for more. However, a new set of experiments by Babcock and Hannah Riley Bowles, who studies the psychology of organizations at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government, offers an entirely different explanation.

Their study, which was coauthored by Carnegie Mellon researcher Lei Lai, found that men and women get very different responses when they initiate negotiations. Although it may well be true that women often hurt themselves by not trying to negotiate, this study found that women's reluctance was based on an entirely reasonable and accurate view of how they were likely to be treated if they did. Both men and women were more likely to subtly penalize women who asked for more -- the perception was that women who asked for more were "less nice".

I think that is very true in life, not just in the workplace. Even though my mom always tells me that "if you don't ask for something, you're never going to get it," I'm always hesitant to negotiate out of the fear that I'll be perceived negatively -- too aggressive, bitchy, etc. It's probably why, until this year, I haven't been willing to negotiate my rent increase. I didn't want to seem aggressive, or cheap, or whatever -- so it was just easier to pay more.

I don't mean to imply that men don't worry about how others perceive them. That's clearly not fair. I just don't think that they're quite as focused on it as women. You know, like how women stress out about what they're going to wear -- because they're convinced that everyone's going to notice -- and judge them.