I've accumulated a ridiculous number of unfinished and/or entirely unwritten posts here, so I've decided to clear them out by posting just the brilliant titles that I've come up with along with a single-sentence TV-Guide-style synopsis of the entry that would follow each. Get ready to switch topics at blistering speed!
And the chickens how they rattle chicken chains.
Girl buys vitamins, reflects on how people who are skeptical of her vegan diet become smug when they hear that she takes vitamin supplements, as though that provides grounds to dismiss the vegan diet as nutritionally insufficient, as though people who eat meat and don't take vitamins can be automatically assumed to be in a state of utmost nutritional completeness.
Talking about signing is like, well, signing about talking.
Plucky heroine discovers, after a lifetime of unsatisfying searching for the perfect second language, that ASL is really intuitive, expressive and laden with enormous potential to come in handy. (Bonus alternate synopsis: Woman seen on Berkeley streets gesturing wildly to herself; neighbors suspect she is schizophrenic, but little do they know!)
Concept art.
Dianna discusses her longstanding desire to cover approximately 75% of her body with tattoos sharing any of several cohesive themes and/or styles, such as All Text All The Time or Plants Until You're Sick Of Them; relatedly, idly silkscreens self with falling-leaves design and accidentally discovers calf sleeve she must absolutely must get next.
We are terribly grammar.
Girl has best of intentions to use this delightful phrase as a blog title to appease her housemate, but totally fails to come up with anything interesting enough to justify it.
Political sensibilities: now located in your pants.
Bay Area feminist discovers that her customary gender-non-compliant wardrobe is due only in part to her critical attitude toward prevailing gender norms and is in fact influenced strongly by the fact that she simply does not fit into gender-compliant clothing such as bras and women's jeans. (Bonus sentence: Girl detective wonders what the hell the self-conscious 13-year-olds with no actual boobs are doing with their chests these days, since even the "teen bras" section of the department store is full of terrifyingly D-cupped lace underwire monstrosities which cannot possibly be of this earth.)
Posted by dianna at April 29, 2007 09:03 PM