California, man. Fuckin' California. Jeff, are you aware of these people? Do they set up a table at campus events?

(I realize this could easily be old, old news, but I just overheard some guy talking about it tonight)

UPDATE: Their FAQ is pretty funny. Their zine, on the other hand, is pretty scary. Also, there's a band.

I just picked up tickets at the Black Cat, and from the sound of the guy that sold them to me, it's about to sell out. If you want to see this show — and you should — get yourself to 14th or ticketmaster quick-like.

UPDATE: Uh... the Wrens. I'm talking about the Wrens. Man I'm dumb.

the big truck pick up and loading is tomorrow. if you have, you know, super insightful tips about moving in general or how to properly load a 10 foot truck full of crap and drive it 700 miles, let me know!

in lieu of actual content, and because i am already miserably nostalgic for everything in my life even though i'm still, you know, in d.c. and am fairly confident that i'll have a good time in chicago: i present, what catherine was doing in
september 2002! (traveling to bergamo, bolzano, and bologna, italy)
september 2003! (nothing! no archives from that month! i had forsaken the blog! instead, you can see my triumphant octoberal return, wherein i recount trips to tuscany and leaving milan for good)
september 2004! (bitching about politics, mostly, in a vacuous way. apple picking in charlottesville - which you ALL need to do in october, eat some apple cider donuts for me, mmk? - camping on assateague island, raising $$ for the lombardi cancer center and whining about my marathon training, doing the first DCist happy hour, and applying for grad schools. man. last september was busy. this september? eating. taking care of a lot of beer. spending untold hours on the internets.)

holy crap, can you believe that this piddle of a site has been around that long?

You know what I love? Getting email from lawyers. And people who work in law offices. Okay, when Charles was working for a PD's office they weren't all that amusing — just his regular "yes", or "ok i will take care of it" or, most often, icy silence.

But folks who work for bigger firms put a little something extra beneath their happy hour RSVPs. Usually it's something like this:

RECEIPT OF THIS COMMUNICATION IS INTENDED FOR ITS INTENDED RECIPIENT. PURSUANT TO SOME FEDERAL ACT OF LET'S SAY 1975, IF YOU HAVE RECEIVED THIS MESSAGE IN ERROR YOU ARE IN VIOLATION OF A NUMBER OF IMPORTANT STATUTES. BETTER LAWYER UP, SON. ALSO, PRINT OUT AS MANY COPIES AS POSSIBLE AND DESTROY THEM. EXCEPT, OOO, COME TO THINK OF IT YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN'T HAVE PRINTED THOSE. ACTUALLY THAT PROBABLY JUST MADE THINGS A LOT WORSE. BEFORE IT WAS JUST GONNA BE A FINE, BUT NOW THEY'RE GONNA TAKE YOUR HOUSE. YOUR FUCKING HOUSE, DUDE. SUCKS.

The idea that I could have somehow entered into a binding contract by virtue of receiving an email is so ludicrous — so transparently composed of gilded bullshit — that I know the sender can't possibly mean it, and that it's just there to give me a chuckle.

Also, the idea that someone has drafted a hundred-word footer to ensure their email's confidentiality rather than, you know, taking any technical steps at all to ensure that message's confidentiality... Well, it just makes me smile. Thanks, guys!