I was more than a fan of A Clockwork Orange, I wrote my junior thesis on it and dressed up as Alex for Halloween my Sophomore year, right down to the eyeball cufflinks (thanks my mom, who still helps with my costumes), unfortunately almost no one knew who I was and the ones that did thought I was Bart Simpson. But I digress…

A Clockwork Orange is one amazing novel worth rereading many times. Burgess was a genius (for real) and his mastery of language is unsurpassed. Of course the Kubrick adaptation is stunning, but Burgess himself was disappointed in the ending (while still calling the film “brilliant”) and vowed to never allow his work to be adapted again, so for his sake and your own read the book too!

Although my interest in the Violent Femmes actually started in elementary school, they've been a perennial favorite. I used to lock myself in my bathroom with the radio and listen to the Colorado College radio station, getting introduced to The Smiths, The Pixies, and The Violent Femmes. These private nights shaped my interest in music forever.

The Femmes' self-titled album is as unique and rousing today as it was in my mopey teen years –I discovered from listening to it again in its entirety on long subway rides. Very few albums are as good from beginning to end with such angsty energy and interesting soundscapes (due in part to the use of the xylophone and other unusual interments). A great album that has stood the test of time unlike some other H.S. faves–Stone Temple Pilots anyone?

I have had two prized possessions in my life that have been stolen. One was an “I Killed Laura Palmer” t-shirt in Jr. High (stolen from my gym locker). And the second was a “Tom Waits for No One” button that made it through high school before being stolen in college.

Tom Waits was a demigod to me; the epitome of cool ever since I first listened to Rain Dogs. Not only is his music great, but he is electric on screen (see Short Cuts and Down By Law) and his unparalleled live performance (which can be seen in Tom Waits Big Time) is one of those rare occurrences that I fear I may never get to experience first hand.

Nothing feels cooler than the day you can say “I know a good place to eat in New York…” As you may know, before that day comes you must endure lots of crappy meals in empty restaurants that you just happen to stumble into as a scared kid visiting the big city (usually a diner if in midtown, or an Italian or Indian place with a barker that can intimidate you into eating there if you're downtown).

I discovered (well, was introduced to) Kelley and Ping in Soho (which was the only location at the time) on a High School trip to NYC with my family. It served me well for years, I would always bring it up on New York trips in college with a casual coolness (that I am not sure, in hind site, I really pulled off).

Still it was a good restaurant and I knew about it. Now Kelley and Ping is a city staple with three locations and the food is still very good. Their Thai Wide Noodle dish is still one of the best wide noodle dishes I've had.

I was a very good girl in High School–the first time I got drunk I was as a senior visiting a jazz club in Chicago–romantic isn't it?

So I am always a bit of an outsider when it comes to swapping stories of getting drunk on Boons in the woods, sneaking vodka in Sprite cans during detention, etc. I was so much the outsider to the drinking world that I didn't even know what to order at bars, so I would always order a Gin and Tonic with Bombay Gin because that's what my parents always ordered at restaurants.

Fortunately it's a good drink, unfortunately the Bombay part usually costs more.

Either by phone or email, you'd be surprised how quickly an old friend can feel just like home.

Myspace is really like having a mini reunion everyday without having to look anyone in the eye. I almost didn't need to ask a lot of people what was going on in their lives, I knew who was divorced, married, with kids, without, gay, drunk, etc. And people didn't have to ask me as much either.

“So this must be the dungeon master” was a question directed at Jim more than once. Where else can one send and receive weird messages from people ten years in their past? Can we even remember life without myspace?

If you have ever seen the cluttered state in which I live my life, you will know (or at least guess) that I just can't throw anything away.

Case in point: the leather briefcase that holds almost every note I received in Jr High, High School, and College. Embarrassing? Yes, but sometimes you have to be able to laugh at yourself.

It seems only fair that I share at least one of these (with names withheld, of course) since I am all too willing to sneak peaks into the private lives of anyone and eveyone on the internet. Enjoy.