The "Vasty Jaws" of War

My class was cancelled this morning, which meant I took off my pants and layed on the futon for about 3 hours while my roommate called me a bitch and threw candy wrappers at me. Well, I took the spare bit of time I had and scanned through the headlines on CNN.com, as usually I skip over them on my homepage, but there was a bright red box that read that 18 children had been killed from an AMERICAN bomb in Iraq, 18 little boys who were just going playing soccer. I mused aloud on the state of the would for a while to no one inparticular, and was reminded of a line in Henry V in which Henry is pleading with Charles to cave in:

"...take mercy on the poor souls for whom this hungry war opens it's vasty jaws..."

America is stuck in a mire of a war with only themselves to blame. And who is taking the brunt of it? Not us. I am so sick of all this I could scream. How many deaths is it going to take? How many families and lives ruined to realize that we are doing NOTHING??? I don't know alot about governments and foreign policy, but I know a lost cause when I see one. That's all.

A Restaurant Review by Taylor

So I went to an excellent restaurant today. I also acctually learned how to spell the word restaurant today as well, I always thought it was resteraunt which looks really dreadful all spelled out but I have more important things to do than check my spelling. [Note to all future publishing houses I will be applying to after college: Disregard the previous statement. And hire me. Please.]

I had a long standing date with my mom in Pasadena, and we happened upon an Italian restaurant on Colorado Blvd, 25 East Colorado Blvd, to be exact. It's called Mi Piace, and it's a kitchen, bakery and lounge. Or so the sign says. I saw the first two. It's really high class, they put us at a window table with linin napkins and stainless silver sugar cups and candlight and eveything. My mom and I kind of stuck out as we were as soaked as a sponge from the rain and wearing sweatshirts and the place was full of Carrie Bradshaws and gay couples on dates. I was pleased we got sat between two gay couples rather than the Carrie Bradshaws because...well, it's a self-esteem thing. Damn Sex in the City.

Anyways, the food was tremendous, Tropical Iced Tea to die for, the bread was warm and smothered with all kinds of herbs that doin't come dried off a Target spice rack. We ordered a iceberg salad with bacon and blue cheese and apples which was so crisp and delicious, but creamy. I got fettucine alfredo in a creme and shallot sauce with chicken that made me have a Meg Ryan orgasm that broke gay couple #2 apart from their Camels and capuccinos. My mom got ricotta and pumpkin ravioli. It's way better than it sounds. Then we had amazing close-my-eyes-and-oh-my-God-I-must-be-in-Naples tiramisu. PLUS they gave out the good kind of matches, the ones that make me say "Oh, look, matches! I suppose I'll take a box..." and then stuff 19 in my shirt.

All that to say, well done Mi Piace, well done.

Thanks again, CNN!

I am really really really sick of opening up Internet Explorer to find my CNN homepage boasting yet another update on Anna Nicole Smith. The first few, I can understand. But it is getting ridiculous. This new story is flaunting the to the minute details of the trial over who gets to delcare custody of the rotting corpse.

I'll give it to you, it was sad. This woman apparently had it all, the money, the body, what have you, a regular Marilyn Monroe, without the class and talent. And she dies. I will give you a million dollars she killed herself or overdosed on something, but I suppose it's not about that. It was sad because she is a person whose life had meaning, even if it didn't seem so. She had a newborn beautiful baby girl, who now is motherless and has no idea who her father is.

But frankly, I would rather hear about the UK pulling out of Iraq. Personally.

Thoughts on Valentine's Day

I really don't get the whole depressed, wearing black, "Single's Awareness Day" thing. True, in the past I have exhibited behavior that would support a negation of the previous statement, but I feel like I've moved beyond that.

I may only be 19, but I've had alot og Valentine's Day. Some were shitty, spent crying myself to sleep at night because I felt like no one in the world would ever love me (albeit, I still have certian days that seem to consist of that very activity), and I've had some that left me with a glow on my face, box of chocolates, single red roses, and emotion-laden poems in my hands, feeling like the most special girl in the world.

To be honest, this year I don't have the energy to bust out any feminist rants on how Valentine's Day is a mass-produced holiday for the sole purpose of making others feel like crap, and niether do I have the energy to articipate in any grand romantic gesture. Basically, this Valentine's Day, I was perfectly satisfied with a valentine from my mom. And, coincidentally, Roxana's mom too.

I walked out of my dorm this morning to find the sidewalks covered in love messages for some girl named Lindsay. It made me happy. Good for her. She's loved. I went and bought a bagel and didn't dwell on the fact that no one wrote love messages in chalk for me. I don't need to. People focus too much on romantic love on Valentine's Day. Why can't we focus on love in general? Why can't the day being about my love for my roommate, my mom, my dad, my brother, my girlfriends, my guy friends, my Torrey group? I love them all, intensely. Why can't Valentine's Day be about them?

So I did. There are three girls in my life who bring me joy every day and make like worth living. Why can't the day be about them? The three of us got dressed up and went to Steamers, listened to jazz, chatted, ate desserts with alot of chocolate goo. We were very nearly the only people in the tiny club who were just out with each other, not a "significant" other. Why does a significant other have to be romantic? I don't get it.

Would I have liked a date for Valentine's Day? Sure. Am I going to wear black and cry about it? Hell no. It's the same thing with having a boyfriend. Yea, having a boyfriend would be nice, someone to hang out with, and love and all that. But am I going to stifle my life because I don't have one? I don't think so.

Maybe next year I'll have a date. Maybe next year I'll be sitting in Steamers in a pair of heels with a stupid smile on face trying to figure out how to trick the waiter into bringing us a mojito. Does it matter? Not so much.

Happy Valentine's Day.

P.S. Best thing about Valentine's Day with girlfriends: didn't wear a bra and didn't have to worry about it. : )