i know when i talk about the george ryan trial, to anyone living outside of illinois it sounds like this "BLAH BLAH BORING BLAH." and you're a little right. if you ever sat in on the testimony during the trial, you might have fallen into a deep REM sleep caused by the hour-long discussions of license plates and real estate contracts. totes boring.

but now! look! shit has gone and gotten all totally hysterically bad ass in the form of a group of petulant, immature jurors!

first, and less interesting to me, is that the tribune exposed one juror as having been convicted of a felony back in 95 when ryan was secretary of state. that is bad, and could potentially cause a mistrial, but most likely the juror will just be dismissed and an alternate will step in.

second, and too funny, is that all the jurors hate each other with the burning passion of a classroom full of 13-year-olds:

The potentially explosive development came on the heels of earlier signs the Ryan jury was close to exploding.

They come and go together, but during the day reporters have seen the Ryan jury gathering in smaller groups. The judge told them to cut it out Thursday.

"You have at least two factions in this case that apparently aren't speaking to each other," said CBS 2 Legal Consultant Irv Miller. "They're deliberating in different rooms, in different places."

In a hallway Wednesday, CBS 2 heard one juror say to several others, "We've got to stop with all this name calling."

"I expect you to treat your fellow jurors with dignity and respect," Pallmeyer said in a stern, three-paragraph note sent in response to two notes received from the jurors in recent days.

they've got cliques! the judge is sending them notes to express her concern! they call each other names. it's JUST. LIKE. HIGH SCHOOL. except, um, these are a bunch of middle-aged illinoisians who should be discussing oh, only, the MOST IMPORTANT TRIAL THE STATE HAS EVER SEEN. get it together, fools.

i like to think of myself as a general averter of fashion trends. i like to follow what's in, and i love to shop, but most of the time i know whatever is hot in a particular summer will come crashing down on its purchasers' heads in two years or less. never bought into the prairie skirt look. metallics? hell to the no. i've never owned a pair of skinny jeans in my life, because i don't care to create the illusion that my thighs are actually two enormous bags of sand, thank you very much. and you'll sure as hell never catch me in a pair of leggings worn under a miniskirt. i am happiest in a pair of jeans, a tank top, and flip flops or flats.

but, woe is me, it appears that i have fallen victim, am 100% totally and truly obsessed with one of this season's spring shoe trends, and i just can't help myself. ladies and gentlemen, meet catherine's new friends: the platform wedge.

argh!(#(@(@! I KNOW! what am i doing to myself? these shoes are decidedly 70ish, decidedly difficult to walk in, and, even i admit it, sort of decidedly ridiculous looking. but I LOVE THEM. it all started last spring, when i bought a pair of these over at urban outfitters. i thought that pair of shoes would satiate my wedge needs. BUT NO. as i discovered when i hit up the marshall's on route 7 this morning. (as an aside: when the hell did the shoe department at marshall's get so incredibly kick-ass? it's like DSW's little sister in there.)

first i had to have these (in black, not brown as shown):

I KNOW! i know, i know. except for the color, they look eerily similar to the wedge sandals purchased last spring. not to mention they literally make me about 6'1". it's all amazonia up in here when i'm prancing around in those things. i'm going to terrify children. and maybe unknowingly step on them.

and then, i had to run across these:

"well, don't THESE look practical," i trilled to myself as i clomped through the store aisles. "they're a must-buy!"

all i can ask for now is your help in preventing me from throwing away even more money on this ridiculous style of shoes. if we walk into a store together, please steer me towards the pumas and ballet flats. if that DSW commercial featuring several adorable styles of wedge heels comes on, cover my eyes. and if i fall on you while wearing these monstrosities out in public, will you give a girl a hand and pick me back up?

I'm outta here in just a few short hours, and allegedly landing at National around 9:30. As you might guess from the whirlwind nature of this tour, I didn't get to see much of the city — and even skipped the salesforce.com-sponsored party at the space needle. But from what little I saw, I like Seattle. There's a monorail track outside my window, and although monorails never actually run on it, it seems like an important moral victory. Also, they've got what I'm told is called "liquid sunshine" going on outside, and it's not as horrifying as it sounds.

But this is the real kicker: I woke up every morning with KEXP blaring over my shitty hotel clock radio. Mountain Goats! Elvis Costello! Arcade Fire rarities! Ted Leo just did a promo for the morning guy! And, most importantly, lots of good music that I hadn't heard before. Yeah, there's an internet stream. But there really is something to be said for FM ubiquity. Your life and my life would be better if this station was on the air in DC. Seriously.

Alright, so they're both already well on their way to conquering the art and online worlds, but there's still something cool about seeing your friends show up in dead-tree format on every streetcorner in a city. So go check out the item by Kriston and the piece about Molly in this week's CityPaper.

I'm sure I'm irrationally drawing attention to what they consider to be a minor blip in their respective campaigns for multimedia domination — but this is the first time the struggle has made its way to a publication lowbrow enough for me to read.