So, um... is this really a selling point?

"Pomegranate is the only juice that promises a decline that's both lengthy and lonely. Bury your loved ones — with the power of Pom!"

this is sure to rankle the cockles (i don't think that even makes sense) of anyone who is above the age of 25, but still: i felt superold tonight. and it is a weird, weird, sensation.

i was hanging out with my neighbor, his girlfriend and their friend, before i went out to a bar with some friends from school. the neighbor and co are all lovely, lovely people. very nice, funny, etc., and graduated in 2004 from their respective schools. we're all drinking beers, catching the last half of the uva-fsu game (HELL YEAH), and i'm telling the neighbor's girlfriend (whom i had not previously met) about my grad program. she asks me if i went straight from undergrad into graduate school, and i explained that i was three years out of undergrad - spent a year in italy, then two years working in publishing, then came to northwestern. she looks at me and goes, "yeah, i was thinking that you did look a lot older."

uhh.

yes, ancient wrinkly catherine, who is rarely at a loss for words, was then at a loss for words. must be my failing 25-year-old memory. sorry, 22-year-old wunderkid. in ALL OF TWO TO THREE YEARS you will understand why i was a little put off.

just wanted to say that it is frankly embarrassing and humiliating to be attending a premiere journalism school at the same time that a person like judith miller is breathing and living and calling herself a journalist. and everybody, EVERYBODY, at medill knows it.

also have had like 10 beers at the time of writing this, but still. screw her.