i am a superior internet stalker!

that is all.

one of my favorite pasttimes while eating shrimp, ham, drinking wine at 5 p.m. and sitting in my pajamas all day in front of the internets is obsessively searching job listings. it's too early for me to apply to any of them (i won't graduate till august or september), but i still like keeping tabs on what's out there. and i'm glad i did today, because i found a listing that any fun, hip, young journalist would die for: pop culture reporter at the washington times. witness:

Did we mention this is a dream beat? It encompasses movie, television, CD and concert reviews; essays and think pieces; artist profiles, trenders and other features; even investigative reporting. Pretty much anything on the pop culture horizon, as long as you can report aggressively and write with intelligence and style. Dream applicants desire stimulation of the imagination and intellect, unusual room to roam across subject boundaries, and wide exposure. They also are ready and able to write a ton and improve rapidly. And to have fun, an indecent amount of fun.

it is difficult not to imagine that addendum, "...an indecent amount of fun," being whispered maniacally with much cackling and rubbing together of evil conservative hands. of course, an "indecent amount of fun" at the washington times is likely the equivalent to the amount of fun that katie holmes is having being the indoctrinated zombie child bride-to-be of tom cruise, but still. different strokes, etc.

i don't know if it's just this sunday source article that prompted me to think about it or the fact that 89% of my male friends currently have/recently have had beards, but, really, what is going on? is growing a beard a thing a mid-20s male must do to, like...get to the next level of maleness? is it a result of laziness? boredom with your hygiene routine? an expression of your SOUL?

not that i mind beards. on some people they do actually look quite good. but aren't they itchy? i mean, it's a LOT OF HAIR on your FACE.

oh well. all i do know is that there apparently people out there concerned about beard fluffiness and how to deal with beard-intolerant people. so close-minded!

i know a lot was made of jeff jarvis' dell hell saga, but i just wanted to note: i had a completely fine and pleasant experience with the dell customer service when my laptop monitor went all dead baby on me. yes, it sucked, having my monitor break about six months after i bought it, but everyone i spoke to on the phone was very friendly and helpful, and i though i did have to send my laptop in, it was picked up immediately and returned to me in 3-5 business days, just like they told me it would be. shrug. maybe it's cause i used my flirty-confused-girl voice on the phone when speaking with all the reps. it usually works wonders.

i like this latest entry on the national zoo's panda blog:

Tian Tian managed to get honey on himself from one of his enrichment activities. This event was followed by a roll in the dirt. What a dirty panda! Tian continues to restlessly wander his enclosures and scent mark. His body is preparing him for the spring breeding season, and Mei Xiang is unavailable this year. Between Tian Tian and Tai Shan, we have loads of material for a "Bad Panda" movie.

i think there was a gross panda sex reference in there somewhere, but am not sure.

UPDATE: FYI, butterstick is in the bowl RIGHT NOW!

Whew. That was quite a weekend. Thanks to everyone who came out on Friday, and apologies to those who stayed around until 3 or so. I thought I was doing pretty well considering the variety and quantity of booze I'd been consuming, but sometime in the early morning my liver decided it was going to bed, and didn't care whether I joined it. Hopefully I didn't scare any of you.

But look, if there was one undeniable truth about that party, it was that it could have been slightly bloggier. One or two attendees may have somehow snuck in without having a valid URL. So on Saturday night I headed over to Kriston and Yglesias' place for a stupefyingly internety fete. Kevin Drum was there! I wanted to pose for a photo with him, as if he were a cardboard cutout, but chickened out.

Instead, I mostly just drank beer, gossipped with Yglesias and took increasing pleasure in introducing myself as "a blogger of no consequence" (business cards?). I once made a fool of myself in front of Dave Winer without knowing who he was, so the evening was really just an exploration of an already established theme.

But I did genuinely enjoy meeting Roxanne, her husband, and John and Belle. And there was the usual collection of Prospect/Reason/Cato people, who are always good to talk to. And the fellas bought caviar! And Sommer makes an awesome spinach dip thing! So all in all, pretty fun. Although when a couple of the Important Bloggers started telling me how much I should cherish my (relative) youth, I figured it was time to head home. Because duh: I think it's pretty obvious that I am. Did you not just hear me discussing federal wiretap laws with that guy over there?

Sunday was Charles' folks' annual holiday open house, and, as always, it was great. There was no chicken liver pate this year, but the addition of several dozen pounds of unpronounceable cheeses more than made up for it. Also: Charles always gets the leftovers, and I conveniently share a fridge with him. That, combined with his stellar cleaning efforts, puts him solidly at the top of the Roommate of the Week ballotting. Good luck in the elimination round!

In other news: we have a heat pump, but still have no heat. And a pipe has burst under the sink, we're told. Which doesn't really bother us, but is apparently a pretty big inconvenience for our downstairs neighbor. We're now racking up negative karma every time we run the faucet.

so, after the blogiday party on friday night, this is how i spent the rest of my weekend:

saturday, around 10 a.m. thought about getting out of bed. thought very seriously about it. but realized it would do nobody any good. one or two more hours of sleep would surely help ease the hangover, right? right. very wise decision, catherine. proceeded to wake up at 2 p.m., aka the latest i have ever slept in at least the past 5 years, because ever since i became a GrownUp, i cannot sleep past 10 in the morning, even on the weekends i really, really try.

spent three or four hours doing some serious couch sitting. it took a lot out of me. with some protest, i eventually hit up the sketchy giant with tommy to grab some dinner. apparently the major movement of getting up off of the couch and out of the apartment reinstated the dreaded delayed hangover. i was doing pretty good until i had to stand up. but the standing up set off the pounding headache from hell, which prevented me from attending a party at matt's and kriston's that was to be even bloggier than our own. instead i spent the evening in my sweatpants uniform, watching the sound of music, which luckily happened to be on tv. it was like ABC read my hungover mind. christopher plummer+do re mi+a slowly sipped beer=defeat of the hangover. i have always been wary of the hair of the dog thing, but it really seemed to work. is there a scientific explanation for that or what?

this is the worst post ever, but i somehow cannot seem to stop typing.

anyway, sunday was charles' parents' annual holiday party, which is always highly looked-forward to, because it is always lovely and filled with wine and great food and we usually end up taking home 5 billion pounds of ham, 72 bottles of wine and eleventy hundred cans of beer. this year was no exception. i mean, i had a piece of ham, a shrimp, and a petit four for breakfast today. post-grays christmas party is a life of shrimp luxury. if only i could get out of these sweatpants.