Tada!

Am once again in an in-between. Took the bar exam almost a month ago. Have two more weeks at a civil rights organization. And then a break - a short period of rest and relaxation (and well, a little work) after three months of so of running on sheer willpower and a fear of the embarrassment that goes with failure (and not failure itself, note). And then life as a firm lawyer will begin and perhaps life as a a more-or-less average 25-year-old will end. Que sera sera. Bring it on. Bring it. And I will take it away.

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Have entered the "hip-hop" phase of musical obsession. When people ask me what kind of music I like, it always takes me a while to answer. I dabble in all genres, see, but my genre of the moment always changes. For example, last summer, I was into 80's songs as my then-boyfriend was. And then I got into country music after my spring break trip to Nashville. And now, I'm into hip-hop. Of particular significance is Sean Kingston's "Beautiful Girls" and "Me Love." So addictive, seriously. As regards the former, I actually prefer JoJo's version more. But when I tried to download it from the iTunes store, I found that the store didn't carry it. So the ever-reliable youtube will have to do for now.

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Am shifting around among five books right now. I love reading, and at any one time, I'm always reading something. I used to finish one book before I turned to the next, but in recent times, I've found that it gets harder for a book to sustain my attention. I don't know if that's because of the glasses I refuse to wear or because I've somehow developed ADD. So I'm going back and forth between these books: Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women," Ron Jeremy's "The Hardest (Working) Man in Showbiz," Rudyard Kipling's "Just So Stories," Jeanne Birdsall's "The Penderwicks," and D.B. Gilles' "The Screenwriter Within."

Three of the five are children's books, one's an instructional book, and one's a porn star's memoir. I got Ron's book along with "Little Women," believe it or not. I was at an Urban Outfitters nearby, presumably shopping for cute tops but really just basking in the aircon for a bit before I had to walk on home, when I caught sight of their sale table. They were selling "Little Women" and Ron's book for $5. That was 1/3 of their retail price. There was no-way-in-the-hey that I was turning down a deal like that. So I got both. I usually don't like memoirs, but a sale is a sale and a book is a book.

I'm still in the first few chapters of the book, and I have to say it's an interesting read. It's definitely not porn, so if you're getting it just for sex, don't bother. There's more action in romance novels, of which I heartily, heartily recommend Susan Elizabeth Phillips who writes the best dialogue in the genre and whose characters are oh-so-familiar but oh-so-lovable still. Nah; Ron talks about his life. He's definitely led an interesting life, but I'm already started to get bored with him, just as I got bored when reading Gilda Radner's memoir. And I find his habit of doing

this for emphasis very annoying. So I'm probably not going to touch his book for a bit.

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Just recently discovered the sundeck in my building. Awesome view. I know where my next hang-out's going to be, then. I hate hate hate that it's Sunday already because that means that Monday is coming soon and I don't feel like I've gotten my weekend's worth. Ah, but the weekend is not over yet. And so I still have both time and opportunity to make something happen.

I've missed blogging. And now I'm back. Tada!