First Cell Phones, Now This?

So as I was tooling around on my laptop enjoying some season 1 Big Bang Theory, I get this e-mail from my mom:

Did you know that you should not keep your lap top ON YOUR LAP while using it as it emits radiation? It may be small amounts, but we don’t need to encourage the ovarian type cancers. Just worrying about you.

This is not what I want to hear! I mean, I know that cell phones are killing any shot of men having children in the future, but now I might be getting cancer in the ovaries because I prefer my faster and cuter MacBook Pro to the Dell Desktop?

Not cool, guys. Not cool. Keep it on your desk.

Wake Up Call

No, this post is not about a Maroon 5 song of the same name. It was a legit wake up call.

Around 7:50 this morning, about an hour before my alarm clock goes off (9 AM. That's right, I'm a college student), I hear Fountains of Wayne "Hey Julie" and vibration from my desk, which is my Dad's ringtone.

I pick up and it's him, stuck in traffic, calling to tell me that Guns n' Roses "Welcome to the Jungle" was on the radio, and proceeds to hold up the phone to the radio so I can hear buzzing and faint screaming from Axl Rose.

If this post sounds like I'm pissed, really, I'm not. Dad does this a lot, actually, just not usually in the morning. It's usually when there's Barry White on the radio, just because "Can't Get Enough of Your Love" is the parental embarrassment song that he and Mom sing in public sometimes. Or sometimes when my sister's having her 17th birthday party in the basement and they're listening to rap, which usually ends in "Where did I go wrong? At least I have one daughter with good taste" in a forlorn voice.

The Family Network

My parents just got "married" after like 24 years of being married. Confused? Jill was.

I know I've already talked about this at length in last week's Ithacan article, but in that article I couldn't write about my own family. Which sucks, because they're quite a crew. And now they all seem to be on Facebook, which amuses me to no end. And I can tell you for a fact, every person in this picture has a profile. No joke.

My family on Facebook isn't anything too horribly new. When I first logged on, my cousins Amanda, Emily, and Hannah were already there, so we were "friends" pretty early on. More and more cousins joined up (Nathan was recent, as were Janet and Amanda), and therefore more and more Palombos were friends with me. But not those creepers that tried to friend me based on name. Hear that, Mexico?

My immediate family getting online started when Dad went on YNIA, and all the kiddlings on that trip wanted to keep in touch with him, and tag him in their photos. He had no clue what that meant, so I set him up with a profile.

Corinne got one a little bit later, but that wasn't a huge surprise. She's in high school, it's kind of what you do. You complain about J Research, you talk about how worried you are about college, you post your pictures, and send stupid bumper stickers. Plus, it took her longer than Dad because the girl barely checks her e-mail.

Mom got on like 2 months ago so she could look at my pictures from California. Now normally that would freak some people the hell out, but since I didn't do anything wild and crazy I figured why not? And then as soon as she got on, I get friend requests from Aunt Dori, Aunt Kathy (who sends me nothing but forwards, but I love her anyway), and Mom's BFFs Margaret and Tim (who I've known since like birth).

It's so funny, to see a college school project turn into a way for 40 somethings to talk about their kids.

My Two Loves: Hugh Laurie & Compact Cars

Since I was editing this past Monday night, I unfortunately missed the first 15 minutes of House. Which usually wouldn't bother me much, because I don't really watch the show for the cases and the procedural. I watch it for the characters—primarily for House, Wilson, and Cuddy.

So I figured I would watch the first 15 minutes that I missed just to see the set up. Turns out they were like the 15 funniest minutes of it.

The show starts with a close-up on eyes, and my initial thought was either that A) this was the patient, or B) I was watching a Lost rerun.

But no, it turns out it was House putting something together with medical tape and tubing from an IV bag. I thought someone was hurt pretty severely. Because really, when an IV is involved, it's usually because the person is really really bad off or really really drunk.

Again, I was wrong. Turns out he was just making a homemade Hot Wheels track out of office supplies. Now this isn't the first time he's made entertainment out stuff in his office before. But this Hot Wheels track...

...this was better than the plastic one my sister had. It had tubing, it had loops, it had a plastic shark waiting to eat the car (or for it to jump the shark).

If only Cuddy hadn't caught the car at the end? Epic.

My Vote for My Sister's Prom Dress

So I finally got to talk to my little sister today, and she told me that she was interested in a prom dress that she saw at David's Bridal. And yes, it is a little expensive. But I'm arguing for it.

First of all, jewel tones work for almost anyone, especially red. And with her coloring, with the blonde hair and more tan skin (well, tanner than mine, which isn't saying much) it will look very pretty.

Second, we're talking about wearing polka dots to prom. Which I'm all for, if I had found a good pattern like this, I would've worn it too! It's adorable, and it's just different enough to stand out.

Third, the belt. Very flattering, very cute, cinches everything in very nicely. The back laces up (I didn't do a picture of that one, there's only so much that Uncle Richard can photoshop).

The Valsalva Maneuver: Redwoods & Santa Cruz

Here on Day 2 of the trip, we decided to head to the Redwoods and Santa Cruz. As we were winding up the hill/mountain, our ears started to pop and the following conversation ensued.

"To get your ears to pop, just hold your nose and blow gently. It increases the pressure in your ears, it's called the Valsalva Maneuver," says Uncle Richard.
"No it's not. The Valsalva Maneuer is when you bear down to take a dump," says Aunt Dori.

Kristyne decided to Cha-Cha it and sure enough, Uncle Richard was right (we found out later it actually can be either or). So that was the running joke through the redwoods, which...are huge. Seriously. One of the tallest ones was 271 feet high (which, the Statue of Liberty is 305'1"). After some fun jumping around the forrest and ducking under John Fremont's bed tree, we ended up back in the car to go to Santa Cruz.

We cruised the strip a little bit and made our first stop at Bad Ass Coffee (no joke, it's really called that!). Got myself a hot chocolate and a keychain to prove I was there, and then we took a trip down the strip. Found a book/record store that we took some fun record pictures in (including Joan Baez, my other one was Madonna). Looked in a few shops and came back home for dinner and planning tomorrow.

We're Not Lost, Smiddy Said Turn Right!

Let me get this clear: I didn't rag on Amanda Fox in that last post. The Amanda I was referring to was my cousin Amanda Connors, who had a similar voice to the girl in the last post, only the girl on the phone was far more pathetic. I don't want to make one of my friends think I was talking about her, because I wasn't.

Now that I've straightened that out? On to the first day in San Francisco.

After oversleeping a little and going to late mass (which seriously, St. Mary's has a crazy choir and I totally zoned out because the priest was kind of boring), we came back to grab lunch at the house and get sweaters and things for the trip to San Francisco.


We thought we were running late, so we jumped in the car and raced over to Neil's apartment to pick him up. Turns out, he had just woken up and took about 10 minutes to get ready as we tried to harass his cats to get out of their hiding spots. Once he was ready, we took off to the Warhol exhibit. We hit the YSL first, which, I wish I could've taken pictures, they were gorgeous. I want the tuxedo in there. And a few others. Anyway. After the exhibit, we took the photo tour of the Golden Gate Bridge, and then when that was done (after trying to find the wave organ, which we couldn't, even though "Smiddy" said to turn down by the yacht club and thus became a trip-long joke), we drove through Japantown and tried to figure out where to eat dinner. Which took a bit, because everywhere we thought of, the restaurant had closed recently.

We ended up at Bocce, this cute little restaurant in Little Italy, which we were afraid would be packed, but was actually completely empty except for us and some other couple. Which meant we could be as loud as we wanted. So we were. It was delicious, and it was really fun, and we were there for almost 2 hours.

Good times.