Listen up, bitches

This was my weekend: correlation coefficients and non-equivalent dependent variables and simultaneous equations and temporal relationships of causality and measurements of civil society and reports of truth commissions and advocacy issues of ngos and social transformation and normative vs. neo-Tocquevillean arguments and cosmopolitan citizenship and post-national identity and quasi experimental design and construct validity and washing.
That sucks, and in keeping with the mission imperative of "Keep Claire sane (-ish)" it is decreed that there will be much fun had in New Orleans at Spring Break 2006, sometime between 10th March and 20th March.
Also, if I can magic some money out of thin air there is also the possibility of some fun being had in Paris over New Year. I will set up a PayPal account, and people can donate money to my cause. How exactly does one register oneself as a charity?
But before any of that happens, I am taking my arse (and possibly the rest of me) down the road to Manhattan to dine at this restaurant because I am in love with Anthony Bourdain and want to have his babies and eat his lovely French cooking and get really fat and then he'll leave me for a hot skinny model but I won't care because me and my babies will have lots of lovely food to eat and scrummy French wine to drink and we will be all happy together and then I'll get my stomach stapled and be all thin and go and see Anthony Bourdain and say hey look at how hot I am again and he will be all ohmigod Claire you are such a sexy bitch please take me back I want to cook for you forever but I'll say sorry mon ami you had your chance and then me and Warrick Brown CSI will jump in a van with all my Bourdain babies and we'll drive off to Mexico and live happily ever after.

But after dinner at the fancy schmancy restaurant and before I get really fat and have babies (not necessarily in that order) we will go to New Orleans and drink lots of cocktails and I will meet Grace and Sunshine and Chuck and his Matt and Outlaw (honourary blogger) and Gwen and Isabel and oh goodness who have I forgotten probably someone who will now hate me forever and ever or at least until I buy them a really poncy cocktail in New Orleans. Its Chickstock (and Chuckstock) '06, for all those who couldn't make it to Blogstock '05.5.
But if you are a relatively hot and intelligent chap, preferably over the age of 25 and most definately over six feet tall who is not an emotional cripple or a fucktard or a complete knobrash and who thinks freckles are nice and that farts will always be funny no matter how old you are and that dogs are some of the nicest people in the world then you are invited as well.
I'll be the red-head holding up the bar.

PS speaking of fat, I just ate the last TimTam. Stay tuned for sugar coma action.