There are times when I feel like Joan Crawford. Well, Joan a la Faye Dunaway, anyway. And these are the times when I go up to young women in the subway and scream at them, "No flats with jeans!"

So I know that this isn't the biggest fashion flaw in the world. No, that would be reserved for the older women wearing high heels with shorts, or worse, high heels with shorts and ankle-length nylons -- shudder. And shudder again. And then avert your eyes.

I'm no fashion plate myself. But somehow, wearing flats with jeans irks me to no end. I hate seeing the little bows on the shoes peeking out from jeans that are 9 inches too long and folded once so that the bottom hem is halfway up the leg. Cut the damn jeans, people! Or buy your size! And stop wearing those stupid flats with 'em!
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A bit cranky today. Usually during the week I'll have two or maybe three afternoons where I can go home and sleep, but this week I haven't managed to make that happen. Either I've been studying or meeting with my tutoree or meeting a friend, so it's Friday and I HATE the stuff I have to read at work and my plans to go on a little excursion out of Seoul this weekend fell through and -- waah!

God, shut UP, Helen.

Last night, after taekwondo, I met with my co-worker HJ to work on the "What Color is Your Parachute?" exercises. About a month ago, we had a "what the hell are we doing with our lives?" conversation, and we decided to have a go at the book. Thing is, she took a short holiday a few weeks ago and decided that she wanted to apply to a joint law-international studies program in the States, so I'm not sure she needs to do these exercises anymore, since she's already reserved her particular parachute at the store.

Amusingly, we went to lunch with another colleague yesterday and were talking about law and crap, and this colleage told me today that, on the spur of the moment, last night she also signed up for the LSAT and bought some prep books. WTF?

It may be all the coffee I've been drinking this week, but I feel all jittery about this upcoming trip back to the States. I've just quit my job, I don't have one lined up, I still don't know if I'm going to law school, I'm not seeing anyone ... oh, I'm going to have some fun conversations at these weddings.

Yes, you're right, of course. Say the sweet phrase: "open bar." Breathe. Repeat.