I'll Have a Pilsner Ur-Kwell, Please

Last night I was eating dinner with Josh at the Childe Harold because he wanted a burger, and we sat on the patio because the outside air was very pleasant. Pleasant outside air is not an everyday occurrence here in the swamp, and we like to take advantage of it when we're lucky enough to get it.

None of those details are actually relevant to my story, which is that someone at a neighboring table requested a "Pilsner Ur-kwell" when the waiter came by to take their drink order. Josh and I exchanged amused glances, but it wasn't until later that I had a chance to tell him what I had found particularly entertaining about the mispronunciation.

I thought that Ur-kwell would have been just the thing to solve the problems of those people on the tv who had to live next door to Steve Urkel. It could have been a kind of repellant for him. You see him coming, spray a little Ur-kwell, and then he has to settle down and be quiet.

For trademark and copyright purposes, of course, you'd have to spell it "Ur-kwell." Or maybe "Ur-qwell," which is actually my favorite of the two options. It gives you a chance to type Q-W-E, which never happens in real life but which is fun to do because they're next to each other on the keyboard.

ah-HA!

Feelings of general competence and ease in the world: restored. Posting an entry cleared up my troubles. If only I had kept up a confident facade, I'd look cool right now instead of like someone who freaks out about random and small things.

Oh well. It's a life lesson for me.

Now that I can stop obsessing over my profile, I can move on to the things that I actually need to do today, which I hope will include a lengthy period of bar prep. I had my first nightmare about failing the bar exam last night, and I'd really like to do what I can to head off six weeks of repeating it. There's something about waking up in a nail-biting panic in the middle of the night because you're afraid of a test that just gets old after... I dunno... you finish high school. I feel like I'm getting ready to take the law Regents or something.

My First Post, And Already I've Fucked It Up

It says something in my profile that I don't want it to say, and I can't change it. I keep trying, but it resists me. My failure has imbued me with a vague sense of impotence that reminds me of the tone in my grandmother's voice when she asks me to do things like raise the ring volume on her mobile phone. Maybe I ought to embrace my inner old lady, leave the unwanted text alone, and complain about it to everyone I discuss this with. If I can't beat 'em, I will join 'em.

Damn... it irks me every time I see it there. The most depressing part of this is that I keep clicking on "view profile" to see if it's magically altered itself since the last time I looked.

This is a bit of a blow to my feeling of general competence and ease in the world.

Part of my motivation for posting an entry right now is to see what it says in the "posted by" section, because that will shed some light on my profile problems. Also, my grandmother is a wonderful person who does no more than a healthy amount of complaining and I love her very much.