Finally getting around to posting some excerpts from Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters, mostly because I'm chatting with a friend of mine about it right now. It really did ring very true.
Anna Quindlen, in her 2005 short book aptly titled Being Perfect, wrote, "Someday, sometime, you will be sitting somewhere. A bench overlooking a pond in Vermont. The lip of the Grand Canyon at sunset. A seat on the subway. And something bad will have happened: You will have lost someone you loved, or failed at something at which you badly wanted to succeed. And sitting there, you will fall into the center of yourself. You will look for some core to sustain you. And if you have been perfect all your life and have managed to meet all the expectations of your family, your friends, your community, your society, chances are excellent that there will be a black hole where that core ought to be."
My friends and I, girls and young women across the nation (and even, I have learned, across the world), harbor black holes at the center of our beings. We, the perfect girls, try to fill these gaping holes with food, blue ribbons, sexual attention, trendy clothes, but no matter how hard we try, they remain. We have called this insatiable hunger by many names -- ambition, drive, pride -- but in truth it is a fundamental distrust that we deserve to be on this earth in the shape we are in. A perfect girl must always be a starving daughter, because there is never enough -- never enough accomplishment. Never enough control. Never enough perfection.
Our mothers had the luxury of aspiring to be "good," but we have the ultimate goal of "effortless perfection" This was the term that young women at Duke University used to describe "the expectation that one would be smart, accomplished, fit, beautiful, and popular, and that all this would happen without visible effort" in a series of discussions held in 2001 as part of their Women's Initiative. This is not, of course, just a Duke thing. "Effortless perfection" has become the unattainable and anxiety-producing ideal for women across the country and across the world. We must not only be perfect -- as in accomplished, brilliant, beautiful, witty -- but also appear as if we achieve all this perfection through an easygoing, fun-loving approach. Perfect girls are powerfully afraid of seeming too uptight, rigid, or moralistic. We don't just want to achieve; we also want to be cool. (p. 5)
A starving daughter lies at the center of each perfect girl. The face we show to the world is one of beauty, maturity, determination, strength, willpower, and ultimately, accomplishment. But beneath the facade is a daughter - starving for attention and recognition, starving to justify her own existence.
The starving daughter within annoys us, slows us down, embarrasses us. She is the one who doubts our ability to handle a full-time job and full-time school. She gets scared, lonely, homesick. She drinks too much, cries too loud, is nostalgic and sappy. When neglected, she seems comfort in cookies, coffee ice cream, warm bread -- transgressions that make the perfect girl in us angry.
The starving daughter emerges in midnight confessions, a best friend's sudden tears, a suitemate buried in mountains of cover, shades drawn, eating ice cream in the middle of the day, and watching Buffy reruns in the dark.
Starving daughters are full of self-doubt. We don't want to worry so much about making other people happy but feel like we can never say thank you enough times, never show enough humility, never help enough, never feel enough shame. We feel guilty. We fear conflict. We are dramatic, sensitive, injured easily. We are clinging to all kinds of attachments that, in our minds, we know we should let go of, but in our bodies, we feel incapable of relinquishing. We are self-pitying, sad, even depressed.
We are tired of trying so hard all the time. We feel like giving up. We feel hopeless. We want love, acceptance, happy endings, and rest. We wish that we had faith, that we weren't ruled by our heads and could live in our hearts more often. We want to have daughters -- little girls who will love us unconditionally. We still small things, such as candy bars and bras -- that make us feel special for just a moment. We try to fill the black holes inside of us with forbidden foods. We never feel full. We always feel cold. We starve for a god.
We don't like to talk about this part of ourselves. Our whole lives, we have received so much affirmation for the perfect part that the starving-daughter part feels like an evil twin. Sometimes we can even convince ourselves that the sadness, self-doubts, and hunger don't exist, that we like to be this busy, that we like to eat small, unfulfilling meals or work out constantly.
For a while... but then the phone doesn't ring when we want it to or we get passed over for a job or a fellowship. Then the starving daughter makes herself known like an explosion. We collapse from exhaustion, or pick fights with our boyfriends or families, or sob inside the locked bathroom stall. Some girls experience their deep sadness in going on binges (food or alcohol), sleeping all day, sleeping around, buying a lot of clothes they don't need, ignoring professional or relational opportunities, dropping out of the race altogether. Some of my best friends have retreated inside themselves in this way, refused help, wasted away, or cloaked themselves in excess weight. We get mono and can't move for weeks. We hate losing control. We hate being "wimps." We fight these breakdowns, but the starving daughter emerges, young and scared and sick of our shit.
Young women struggle with this duality. The perfect girl in each drives forward, the starving daughter digs in her heels. The perfect girl wants excellence, the starving daughter calm and nurturance. The perfect girl takes on the world, the starving daughter shrinks from it. It is a power struggle between two forces, and at the center, almost every time, is an innocent body. (pp. 20-21)
My hesitation in posting this latter bit is that I think it can easily be misread as implying that women are "soft" or "weak" at their core -- which would be outrageously anti-feminist. However, the author isn't saying that at all. Rather, she's saying that we women, modern women, women of or generation, however you want to put it, are determined to be so strong that sometimes we neglect the softer parts of ourselves. (I imagine similar things could be said about some men, although there are different societal pressures at work.) I myself am constantly aware of whether something I'm doing is going to be perceived as weak, or whether it is weak, or whether by doing something "weak" is going to bring womenkind back down into the dregs of past male hegemony. (That's a strange kind of awareness -- awareness of role as representative of group.) Anyway, the point is that women are strong, but they never give themselves a break, and that can lead to a breakdown. I used to repress a lot of anger and then lash out at people randomly -- I did it in high school a lot with female friends and then in college, too. I've now become a lot better at it. The point is to accept and work with the parts of yourself that you aren't pleased with all the time, instead of trying to bury them. Anyway. I could say much, much more, but I will leave it here for now. There will be more.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
My killer outfit
Check out this picture. I'm on the left, holding the horns. You can't actually see my face but you do get a great shot of my awesome outfit, inspired by the coolest 4-year-old I know (literally). She always wears bright tights and then a dress over a long-sleeved shirt. This was my homage, in my attempt at Justin's party theme of "diapered dapperness." I did wear it with my kickass Anthropologie boots, which classed it up slightly. Of course, this pic was taken at our house, after I'd taken off the shoes to save my feet.
Stuff White People Like, part two of at least two.
I know many people have been perplexed by whether or not the author of the site Stuff White People Like is actually white. I assumed that he/she was, just because I detected a note of ironic shame in many of the posts. If you can judge based on names, then I think he is. There was an article in the LA Times this weekend about the site:
"I'm writing about the white people who think they're absolutely unique and individual," [Christian] Lander told me. "I'm calling them out and poking fun of myself. The things I post are all the things I like too!"
Pardon my gross generalization, but I feel like only white people are named Christian, but maybe that's just me. I know of four Christians - a white doctor, Kirsten Dunst's brother, Christian Bale, and Christian Slater. Thus my unscientific analysis of Christians who are white. Anyway, either way the site is definitely self-referential which I deeply appreciate. I only have one quibble:
Lander, who arrived in L.A. from Toronto 2 1/2 years ago, came up with the idea for the blog after talking to a Filipino friend about how much they both liked the HBO police drama "The Wire." For some reason he's already forgotten, they both wished that more white people watched the show. Which got him thinking: What exactly do white people like?
I think white people like "The Wire." Or maybe it's just that the vast majority of my friends are white (it's true, and very weird, but then again I guess I live in gentrified San Francisco), and they all seem to like or want to watch The Wire. Still. I stand by my theory.
"I'm writing about the white people who think they're absolutely unique and individual," [Christian] Lander told me. "I'm calling them out and poking fun of myself. The things I post are all the things I like too!"
Pardon my gross generalization, but I feel like only white people are named Christian, but maybe that's just me. I know of four Christians - a white doctor, Kirsten Dunst's brother, Christian Bale, and Christian Slater. Thus my unscientific analysis of Christians who are white. Anyway, either way the site is definitely self-referential which I deeply appreciate. I only have one quibble:
Lander, who arrived in L.A. from Toronto 2 1/2 years ago, came up with the idea for the blog after talking to a Filipino friend about how much they both liked the HBO police drama "The Wire." For some reason he's already forgotten, they both wished that more white people watched the show. Which got him thinking: What exactly do white people like?
I think white people like "The Wire." Or maybe it's just that the vast majority of my friends are white (it's true, and very weird, but then again I guess I live in gentrified San Francisco), and they all seem to like or want to watch The Wire. Still. I stand by my theory.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Justin's Birthday
In other news, Laurel and I successfully pulled off surprising Justin (twice) for his birthday. Friday morning, Dan and Ace somehow convinced him to come to our house at 6:30am to "carpool" to work. God knows how he decided that was a wise choice, but he showed up and a couple of us were there waiting to surprise him with muffins and mimosas. Then we all trekked (ok, got a car ride) down to the 22nd street Caltrain station to ride with him to work. It was fun! I was pretty sick still, but I enjoyed seeing how other people commute, and the Baby Bullet train was impressively fast and efficient. If it was easier for me to get to the SF station or from the station to my work, I could see traveling like that more often. Pretty comfy. Then Laurel and I turned right back around and rode north again, she to catch a BART to the East Bay and me to head back home and work from home since I'm sick. (Yeah, I realize that not doing the commute is part of the point of working from home, but whatever.) I had a pretty good day at home, and then when evening rolled around it was time to prepare for our 2nd part surprise.
So Justin had already planned his own party, sort of. He had people coming over to his house for some Little Star pizza, and then more people coming for drinks later. Since he was turning 24 (double dozens) on the 22nd (double deuce), his theme was "Diapered Dapperness." It was really just an excuse for him to wear his overalls. OUR plan was to "hijack" his party. We had two other houses prepared to host a party, and so we were going to surprise Justin at his place with the news that we were going to take him on a progressive party throughout the Mission. The surprise part didn't go so well, thanks to me, in the sense that we didn't get to jump out and yell at him, but he was definitely surprised that we'd planned this extra party thing. We had themes for each of the houses, too. At his house the theme was "Dudes and Dandies," honoring his unique fashion sense, and so the beverage was Miller High Life forties (and some cans for those who didn't want to really go there) -- the connection there being "High Life, High Fashion." The next house was "Delectable Desserts," where we had double scoops (ice cream sundaes), black and white cookies, chocolate chip cookies, and birthday cake, the latter two both made by Laurel. We also had two kinds of Boones Farm, which is so sweet it might as well be a dessert. (I should interject here that I was super impressed with people's willingness to drink only those drinks assigned to themes -- and really ghetto drinks at that. I mean, Boones Farm and High Life. Classy.) Finally, we went to our house, where the theme was "Daniels and Dali," honoring Justin's famous moustache and featuring bourbon/whiskey-and-ginger-ales. We somehow managed to keep people together on this progressive, and our house was pretty packed. There was a detour to Beauty Bar for dancing, and then nearly everyone came back to our place, where I promptly went to bed but the party continued for a bit longer. All in all it was a pretty awesome night. Sadly, or perhaps fortunately, it was undocumented. All I really have to show for it are the posters/signs I made for decoration. Here's my favorite:
I don't think I've really managed to pull off a surprise like this ever, except for Silvia's birthday party our sophomore year, which was smooth mainly because Laurel neatly deflected Silvia's interest in a cooler being carried up the stairs by reciting two weird last names of random kids in our dorms. Really.
So Justin had already planned his own party, sort of. He had people coming over to his house for some Little Star pizza, and then more people coming for drinks later. Since he was turning 24 (double dozens) on the 22nd (double deuce), his theme was "Diapered Dapperness." It was really just an excuse for him to wear his overalls. OUR plan was to "hijack" his party. We had two other houses prepared to host a party, and so we were going to surprise Justin at his place with the news that we were going to take him on a progressive party throughout the Mission. The surprise part didn't go so well, thanks to me, in the sense that we didn't get to jump out and yell at him, but he was definitely surprised that we'd planned this extra party thing. We had themes for each of the houses, too. At his house the theme was "Dudes and Dandies," honoring his unique fashion sense, and so the beverage was Miller High Life forties (and some cans for those who didn't want to really go there) -- the connection there being "High Life, High Fashion." The next house was "Delectable Desserts," where we had double scoops (ice cream sundaes), black and white cookies, chocolate chip cookies, and birthday cake, the latter two both made by Laurel. We also had two kinds of Boones Farm, which is so sweet it might as well be a dessert. (I should interject here that I was super impressed with people's willingness to drink only those drinks assigned to themes -- and really ghetto drinks at that. I mean, Boones Farm and High Life. Classy.) Finally, we went to our house, where the theme was "Daniels and Dali," honoring Justin's famous moustache and featuring bourbon/whiskey-and-ginger-ales. We somehow managed to keep people together on this progressive, and our house was pretty packed. There was a detour to Beauty Bar for dancing, and then nearly everyone came back to our place, where I promptly went to bed but the party continued for a bit longer. All in all it was a pretty awesome night. Sadly, or perhaps fortunately, it was undocumented. All I really have to show for it are the posters/signs I made for decoration. Here's my favorite:
I don't think I've really managed to pull off a surprise like this ever, except for Silvia's birthday party our sophomore year, which was smooth mainly because Laurel neatly deflected Silvia's interest in a cooler being carried up the stairs by reciting two weird last names of random kids in our dorms. Really.
Oscars
The Oscars were pretty good this year, I thought. I was pretty pleased with most of the awards, except I wanted Paul Thomas Anderson to win for adapted screenplay. I knew he wouldn't get "Best Picture," and I kind of agreed with that -- I think "No Country" was a better film, although in the end I think "There Will Be Blood" will resonate and stick with me longer. And I knew he wouldn't get "Best Director," for the same reason. So I wanted him to get something.
I was very happy "Atonement" won for original score -- it was really amazing and I was sitting in a room full of people who had tried to see as many Oscar nominated movies as possible and yet had not bothered to see "Atonement," so I really wanted it to get at least one award, and I think that was the one it most deserved. And I was thrilled that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova won for "Once," and even more thrilled that Jon Stewart brought her out there to give her acceptance speech after she'd been rushed off the stage earlier. It was really heartwarming and she was so sweet and modest and well-spoken. Really, there were quite a few adorable acceptance speeches -- hers, Diablo Cody's, and Marion Cotillard's. It felt actually somewhat homespun, this year, which I really appreciated.
I find it amazing how much (it's sad to admit it) celebrities can thrill me. I know on one hand that they probably shouldn't, but on the other hand I think it's ok to let yourself get carried away by their larger-than-lifeness, their polish, perfection, charm, and above all that glimmer of humanity despite all the diamonds etc. That's why those speeches were adorable -- they seemed the way real people would if they were swept away by this big spectacle. Somehow that paired with satin and jewels is an irresistible combination. And then there are those who seem perfectly at ease -- Helen Mirren, Jack Nicholson, whoever. It's a strange thing, the emotions these total strangers can inspire. I sound cliche right now, but I have become more and more away of this sensation (on a personal level) recently, and I felt like I needed to mention it.
I was really happy with how I spent the Oscars this year. This weekend, thanks in large part to friends like Justin who hadn't seen all the Best Picture nominees yet, I saw both "No Country" and "There Will Be Blood" for the second time. We also managed to rent "Michael Clayton" and watch it right before the Oscars began, so I actually saw all five Best Picture nominees this year! I am pretty proud -- it made me feel much more invested in the show. Also, we had some folks over to our house -- a total crowd of 9 people crammed into our tiny living room -- to watch it, with some champagne, wine, cheese, strawberries, and olives. It was pretty awesome, actually. It was a slightly different crowd than usual, which I really appreciated. It's always nice to get some new blood and I do keep meeting new and awesome people all the time. After the Oscars, we watched six (!) episodes of "The Office," which got me super psyched up for my Office party on April 10 when the new episodes start again. I hadn't watched it in so long, it's like I forgot how good it was. It was a really nice ending to a good weekend.
I was very happy "Atonement" won for original score -- it was really amazing and I was sitting in a room full of people who had tried to see as many Oscar nominated movies as possible and yet had not bothered to see "Atonement," so I really wanted it to get at least one award, and I think that was the one it most deserved. And I was thrilled that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova won for "Once," and even more thrilled that Jon Stewart brought her out there to give her acceptance speech after she'd been rushed off the stage earlier. It was really heartwarming and she was so sweet and modest and well-spoken. Really, there were quite a few adorable acceptance speeches -- hers, Diablo Cody's, and Marion Cotillard's. It felt actually somewhat homespun, this year, which I really appreciated.
I find it amazing how much (it's sad to admit it) celebrities can thrill me. I know on one hand that they probably shouldn't, but on the other hand I think it's ok to let yourself get carried away by their larger-than-lifeness, their polish, perfection, charm, and above all that glimmer of humanity despite all the diamonds etc. That's why those speeches were adorable -- they seemed the way real people would if they were swept away by this big spectacle. Somehow that paired with satin and jewels is an irresistible combination. And then there are those who seem perfectly at ease -- Helen Mirren, Jack Nicholson, whoever. It's a strange thing, the emotions these total strangers can inspire. I sound cliche right now, but I have become more and more away of this sensation (on a personal level) recently, and I felt like I needed to mention it.
I was really happy with how I spent the Oscars this year. This weekend, thanks in large part to friends like Justin who hadn't seen all the Best Picture nominees yet, I saw both "No Country" and "There Will Be Blood" for the second time. We also managed to rent "Michael Clayton" and watch it right before the Oscars began, so I actually saw all five Best Picture nominees this year! I am pretty proud -- it made me feel much more invested in the show. Also, we had some folks over to our house -- a total crowd of 9 people crammed into our tiny living room -- to watch it, with some champagne, wine, cheese, strawberries, and olives. It was pretty awesome, actually. It was a slightly different crowd than usual, which I really appreciated. It's always nice to get some new blood and I do keep meeting new and awesome people all the time. After the Oscars, we watched six (!) episodes of "The Office," which got me super psyched up for my Office party on April 10 when the new episodes start again. I hadn't watched it in so long, it's like I forgot how good it was. It was a really nice ending to a good weekend.
Hillary Canceled Arrested Development
I'm still sick. Boo.
This is really funny though. If you liked BarackObamaIsYourNewBicycle, you'll appreciate. Oh, the Internet.
This is really funny though. If you liked BarackObamaIsYourNewBicycle, you'll appreciate. Oh, the Internet.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Sex and the City
Ugh, I admit, I want to see it.
(Probably has something to do with the fact that I watched six episodes Wednesday night.)
(Probably has something to do with the fact that I watched six episodes Wednesday night.)
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Twilight
For anyone who cares about "Twilight," that book about teenage vampires that's being turned into a movie (the book was half gripping and half meh), the casting information is out. Edward, who is the love interest vampire and supposed to be like ethereally weirdly gorgeous, is being played by the kid who was Cedric Diggory in the Harry Potter movies, which I think is rather fitting, and Bella is weirdly almost-attractive but almost-not-attractive and I only recognize her from the previews for that movie "The Land of Women" which was apparently dismal. The only other cast member I've even heard of, although all of MTV's message boards seem to know exactly who everyone is as though they were like Brad Pitt and Scarlett Johanssen (I know bit actors only as "that dude from that show"), is Peter Facinelli, who is best known (literally, not just by me) as the asshole in "Can't Hardly Wait" ("Mike Dexter is a role model!" that movie is so good). Yeah. So not exactly filled with A-listers, but I kind of have this little itch to see the movie when it comes out. Maybe they'll actually write a plot for it.
Update: I just realized that Kristen Stewart (Bella) is the girl in "Into the Wild" -- you know, the prepubescent one who takes him to that weird shrine in the desert. I feel like an idiot.
(via)
Update: I just realized that Kristen Stewart (Bella) is the girl in "Into the Wild" -- you know, the prepubescent one who takes him to that weird shrine in the desert. I feel like an idiot.
(via)
I am apparently a 14 year old boy. A gay one. Or something.
I never read the original X-Men comics or saw the tv show, plus I never saw the third movie (I heard it was bad, and never got around to testing that theory) in the theaters. However, I am pretty darn excited about X-Men Origins: Wolverine, mostly because of the cast. I mean, Hugh Jackman, Liev Schreiber (am I the only person who cares that those two were in a movie together before, that movie with Meg Ryan involving accidental time travel?), Ryan Reynolds and now Taylor Kitsch? Tell me that won't be entertaining. I'm starting to geek out over really geeky movies, like this one, and Iron Man, and the new Indiana Jones, and I'm almost sorry to say it, the J. J. Abrams Star Trek. I just feel like it will be really cool.
End of the World
While I'm at it I also really like this photo. Not quite sure what it is about it in particular.
Crime and Punishment in Poland
This article about "a postmodern murder mystery" in this week's New Yorker was fascinating. Don't read the summary, even though I linked to it. I scanned the article into my computer, so just comment or e-mail me if you want to read it. Seriously weird.
Wallace on McCain
I am in the middle of reading David Foster Wallace's "Consider the Lobster," which is, like "A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again," some of the best non-fiction writing I've ever encountered. It's dizzyingly intelligent. This morning I finished reading "Up, Simba," his essay about being on the campaign with John McCain in 2000 the week after the New Hampshire primary. It's pretty fascinating, as you can imagine, to read in the context of the current election, especially because some of the stuff he writes in an essay about John McCain could easily be applied to, well, Barack Obama. I'm speaking specifically about a section titled "Suck it Up" which is about salesmen versus leaders, and how you can't decide which McCain is, but that young people are looking for leaders "who can help us overcome the limitations of our own individual laziness and selfishness and weakness and fear and get us to do better, harder things than we can get ourselves to do on our own" (225).
I highly recommend picking up this book because there are more perfect, awesome nuggets in it than I have time to type into this blog, but it really does peel apart so many aspects of political campaigns -- the routine of the political campaign tour around the country, the role of the media, and especially the ambivalence you feel watching a candidate, knowing that some portion of what he/she does (man, it feels good to write "she" there and have a real example) is calculated and that some portion of it is genuine, but now knowing which part is greater -- that it's very much worth reading at this time in our country's history. Here's another part I really liked (it's long, but bear with me):
It's hard to get good answers to why Young Voters are so uninterested in politics. This is probably because it's next to impossible to get someone to think hard about why he's not interested in something. The boredom itself preempts inquiry; the fact of the feeling's enough. Surely one reason, though, is that politics is not cool. Or say rather that cool, interesting, alive people do not seem to be the ones who are drawn to the political process. Think back to the sort of kids in high school who were into running for student office: dweeby, overgroomed, obsequious to authority, ambitious in a sad way. Eager to play the Game. The kind of kids other kids would want to beat up if it didn't seem so pointless and dull. And now consider some of 2000's adult versions of these very same kids: Al Gore, best described by CNN sound tech Mark A. as "amazingly lifelike"; Steve Forbes, with his wet forehead and loony giggle; G. W. Bush's patrician smirk and mangled cant; even Clinton himself, with his big read fake-friendly face and "I feel your pain." Men who aren't enough like human beings even to hate -- what one feels when they loom into view is just an overwhelming lack of interest, the sort of deep disengagement that is often a defense against pain. Against sadness. In fact, the likeliest reason why so many of us care so little about politics is that modern politicians make us sad, hurt us deep down in ways that are hard even to name, much less talk about. It's way easier to roll your eyes and not give a shit. You probably don't want to hear about all this, even.
...
As one national pencil told Rolling Stone and another nonpro, "If you saw more of how the other candidates conduct themselves, you'd be way more impressed with [McCain]. It's that he acts somewhat in the ballpark of the way a real human being would act." And the grateful press on the Trail transmit -- maybe even exaggerate -- McCain's humanity to their huge audience, the electorate, which electorate in turn seems to paroxysmically thankful for a presidential candidate somewhat in the ballpark of a real human being that it just has to make you stop and think about how starved voters are for just some minimal level of genuineness in the mean who want to "lead" and "inspire" them.
...There's another thing John McCain always says. He makes sure he concludes every speech and THM with it, so the buses' press hear it about 100 times this week. He always pauses a second for effect and then says: "I'm going to tell you something. I may have said some things here today that maybe you don't agree with, and I might have said some things you hopefully do agree with. But I will always. Tell you. The truth." This is McCain's closer, his last big reverb on the six-string as it were. And the frenzied standing-O it always gets from his audience is something to see. But you have to wonder. Why do these crowds from Detroit to Charleston cheer so wildly at a simple promise not to lie?
Well, it's obvious why. When McCain says it, the people are cheering not for him so much as for how good it feels to believe him. They're cheering the loosening of a weird sort of knot in the electoral tummy. McCain's resume and candor, in other words, promise not empathy with voters' pain but relief from it. Because we've been lied to and lied to, and it hurts to be lied to. It's ultimately just about that complicated: it hurts.
All of this really makes me wish DFW would go on the trail with Obama. I'd really like to see his take on that phenomenon.
I highly recommend picking up this book because there are more perfect, awesome nuggets in it than I have time to type into this blog, but it really does peel apart so many aspects of political campaigns -- the routine of the political campaign tour around the country, the role of the media, and especially the ambivalence you feel watching a candidate, knowing that some portion of what he/she does (man, it feels good to write "she" there and have a real example) is calculated and that some portion of it is genuine, but now knowing which part is greater -- that it's very much worth reading at this time in our country's history. Here's another part I really liked (it's long, but bear with me):
It's hard to get good answers to why Young Voters are so uninterested in politics. This is probably because it's next to impossible to get someone to think hard about why he's not interested in something. The boredom itself preempts inquiry; the fact of the feeling's enough. Surely one reason, though, is that politics is not cool. Or say rather that cool, interesting, alive people do not seem to be the ones who are drawn to the political process. Think back to the sort of kids in high school who were into running for student office: dweeby, overgroomed, obsequious to authority, ambitious in a sad way. Eager to play the Game. The kind of kids other kids would want to beat up if it didn't seem so pointless and dull. And now consider some of 2000's adult versions of these very same kids: Al Gore, best described by CNN sound tech Mark A. as "amazingly lifelike"; Steve Forbes, with his wet forehead and loony giggle; G. W. Bush's patrician smirk and mangled cant; even Clinton himself, with his big read fake-friendly face and "I feel your pain." Men who aren't enough like human beings even to hate -- what one feels when they loom into view is just an overwhelming lack of interest, the sort of deep disengagement that is often a defense against pain. Against sadness. In fact, the likeliest reason why so many of us care so little about politics is that modern politicians make us sad, hurt us deep down in ways that are hard even to name, much less talk about. It's way easier to roll your eyes and not give a shit. You probably don't want to hear about all this, even.
...
As one national pencil told Rolling Stone and another nonpro, "If you saw more of how the other candidates conduct themselves, you'd be way more impressed with [McCain]. It's that he acts somewhat in the ballpark of the way a real human being would act." And the grateful press on the Trail transmit -- maybe even exaggerate -- McCain's humanity to their huge audience, the electorate, which electorate in turn seems to paroxysmically thankful for a presidential candidate somewhat in the ballpark of a real human being that it just has to make you stop and think about how starved voters are for just some minimal level of genuineness in the mean who want to "lead" and "inspire" them.
...There's another thing John McCain always says. He makes sure he concludes every speech and THM with it, so the buses' press hear it about 100 times this week. He always pauses a second for effect and then says: "I'm going to tell you something. I may have said some things here today that maybe you don't agree with, and I might have said some things you hopefully do agree with. But I will always. Tell you. The truth." This is McCain's closer, his last big reverb on the six-string as it were. And the frenzied standing-O it always gets from his audience is something to see. But you have to wonder. Why do these crowds from Detroit to Charleston cheer so wildly at a simple promise not to lie?
Well, it's obvious why. When McCain says it, the people are cheering not for him so much as for how good it feels to believe him. They're cheering the loosening of a weird sort of knot in the electoral tummy. McCain's resume and candor, in other words, promise not empathy with voters' pain but relief from it. Because we've been lied to and lied to, and it hurts to be lied to. It's ultimately just about that complicated: it hurts.
All of this really makes me wish DFW would go on the trail with Obama. I'd really like to see his take on that phenomenon.
No writer's intentions allowed
My head is fuzzy. But I am attempting to blog a bit and clear out some of my many Mozilla Firefox tabs. I loved this little bit from Paul Thomas Anderson about "There Will Be Blood":
Once on the film's Marfa, Texas, set, Anderson continued to whittle at and refine the screenplay with a dedication befitting his own monomaniacal protagonist, taking particular care to remove anything that risked overstating the movie's themes. He describes one offending scene, between Plainview and the mysterious drifter (played by Kevin J. O'Connor) who claims to be his half brother, in which one of Plainview's lines echoed Eli Sunday in an earlier scene. "That's not something I wrote with any kind of writerly intention — to parallel these two guys," Anderson says. "I didn't even notice it was there until somebody on the set said, 'That's an interesting moment.' And my alarm bell went off: Don't do that! No writer's intentions allowed! When you're working on something, there's always a danger of screwing the screws in so fucking tight that it's not breathing any longer."
(from LA Weekly)
Once on the film's Marfa, Texas, set, Anderson continued to whittle at and refine the screenplay with a dedication befitting his own monomaniacal protagonist, taking particular care to remove anything that risked overstating the movie's themes. He describes one offending scene, between Plainview and the mysterious drifter (played by Kevin J. O'Connor) who claims to be his half brother, in which one of Plainview's lines echoed Eli Sunday in an earlier scene. "That's not something I wrote with any kind of writerly intention — to parallel these two guys," Anderson says. "I didn't even notice it was there until somebody on the set said, 'That's an interesting moment.' And my alarm bell went off: Don't do that! No writer's intentions allowed! When you're working on something, there's always a danger of screwing the screws in so fucking tight that it's not breathing any longer."
(from LA Weekly)
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Chicken noodle soup
Also, don't underestimate the awesomeness of "sick person food." I ate Progresso canned chicken noodle soup for dinner Monday, dinner yesterday, lunch today, and I'm about to run out and get a can for dinner, too. That, plus ginger ale and kombucha, is part of my plan of attack on my sickness. Cristina says her med student ex-boyfriend told her that the real point of chicken noodle soup is really just the sodium, I'm not sure why but I'm going with it cause it's tasty. And also, once I finished my lunch of it, I felt a LOT better, for at least an hour or two. Strange, right?
Back to it.
Back to it.
Is this one of those boring "What I did with my weekend" updates? Oh well.
Hello to my poor neglected (as of late) blog and readers... I know I've been one of those aggravating non-serious bloggers as of late with infrequent posts. Somehow, I've been overwhelmed at work and not had time to parse through my many bytes of Internet reading to share with y'all. I've also been pretty busy at home. Although part of my business has been me watching Veronica Mars. And, lately, the OC, except now I'm sick, so I have an excuse.
Last weekend was a pretty grand success, and I was punished for it with a nasty cold, which is why I'm home right now instead of still at work. We started off with the inaugural "Dirty Apron Kitchen Club," a cooking club that my friend Peattie and I informally started. We had around 15 people there for it, which was more than I expected and a pretty hard crowd to manage, but still very fun. For dinner, we made stuffed shells from this recipe, which was really easy and really delicious and satisfied the Mom's manicotti craving I get periodically (although no raisins or nuts in it, which I think Mom puts in her manicotti? Oh my God, it's been so long since I had it. Hint). That plus a lot of wine and a salad pretty much sums up the menu. I was very aggressively managing the kitchen and felt kind of bad about that, since I tend to be an overly detailed person and many of my friends (especially not-quite-as-close friends) I think find it a little irritating. Still, the meal worked out and I'm really excited about the Kitchen Club in general. I can't wait to do a Passover menu and a St. Patrick's Day menu. YUM!
Saturday I went wine tasting with my friend Tina. Her roommate works at a country club and had arranged for a few free/private tastings. We had a private tasting (just the six of us in our group in a private room) of Terlato wines, a brand of Rutherford Hill, which was pretty fun and very informative. Every time I go wine tasting I learn a little more and am better able to ask questions and carry out a conversation. I decided I need to learn more about wine, though, since our hostess was making references to how certain wines were supposed to be homages to different Bordeaux regions and I had really no idea how true that was, etc. One interesting thing for me was that the first "flight" we tasted was very geographically based -- two whites from the Russian River and a syrah from the Dry Creek region. I knew that certain wine regions are better known for certain kinds of wine, but had never really thought very seriously about a wine being "a Dry Creek syrah" as opposed to a syrah. Forgive me if this seems stupid, but I finally made this connection the other day. (Suddenly I realized it was like single origin chocolates.) Anyway, we did that and then a tasting at Beringer, where I had only been once before when I was under 21 and driving through wine country with my dad and sister. Back home, Tina and I made dinner with Justin (Dad, we made your peperoncini shrimp pasta and it was a hit, except I don't have a pan big enough to stir it all up together like you do, so it wasn't melty enough in my opinion) and then went out for a bit. I ended up coming home and watching part of Moulin Rouge with Dan.
Sunday Justin and Laurel and I had brunch at Magnolia. I'd always heard they had good brunch and it's very true. I had the cardamom-spiced French toast with garam masala whipped cream and huckleberries. I rarely get sweet breakfasts but this one was really good. The huckleberries were a lot like dried blueberries, only more tart. We also got started on our strong beer tastings at Magnolia and got through three of them before it was time for me to get a manicure with a couple of other girls. I have to say I quite enjoy getting manicures and would like to do them more often. I know I keep saying that. I took a nap before heading out to Magnolia for the second time that day. (Yeah, I know, I'm not sure how this became an idea, but we did do it on purpose.) I was supposed to meet coworkers for more strong beer, except when I got there, the friends I'd invited greatly outnumbered the coworkers, and we ended up sitting on opposite sides of the restaurant. Oops. Still, the 8 of us crammed into our 5-person table had a great time and I had the best reuben ever. It was almost spicy. We closed down Magnolia and I came home to watch more Moulin Rouge. I should say that both Saturday night and Sunday night I watched Moulin Rouge and hung out with Braden and Pat, two guys that Ace knows through work, and who I have only once hung out with before midnight. I was up pretty late Sunday night, except for the fact that I periodically fell asleep on the futon, so it was no surprise when I woke up Monday with this headcold. Since then I've made a conscious effort to vegetate and have turned down two anticipated social events, but I'm kind of trying to save up so I don't suck at my job and so I can have fun this weekend. Blah.
So I'm now something like 12 episodes into the first season of the OC, and then today in the mail I got a package from Bethany containing the entire series of Sex and the City, which is contained in the most ridiculous fuzzy magenta booklet slipped into a plexiglass box and is probably officially my most absurd belonging, and I have a lot of absurd belongings so that is saying something. I have a sort of love-hate thing for SatC and haven't watched it since the series finale, which I am pretty sure I watched on tape in Cristina's dorm room my junior year, and I'm pretty sure I cried. But I'm pretty excited about this set on my coffee table. It's definitely good entertainment for sick Emily.
Last weekend was a pretty grand success, and I was punished for it with a nasty cold, which is why I'm home right now instead of still at work. We started off with the inaugural "Dirty Apron Kitchen Club," a cooking club that my friend Peattie and I informally started. We had around 15 people there for it, which was more than I expected and a pretty hard crowd to manage, but still very fun. For dinner, we made stuffed shells from this recipe, which was really easy and really delicious and satisfied the Mom's manicotti craving I get periodically (although no raisins or nuts in it, which I think Mom puts in her manicotti? Oh my God, it's been so long since I had it. Hint). That plus a lot of wine and a salad pretty much sums up the menu. I was very aggressively managing the kitchen and felt kind of bad about that, since I tend to be an overly detailed person and many of my friends (especially not-quite-as-close friends) I think find it a little irritating. Still, the meal worked out and I'm really excited about the Kitchen Club in general. I can't wait to do a Passover menu and a St. Patrick's Day menu. YUM!
Saturday I went wine tasting with my friend Tina. Her roommate works at a country club and had arranged for a few free/private tastings. We had a private tasting (just the six of us in our group in a private room) of Terlato wines, a brand of Rutherford Hill, which was pretty fun and very informative. Every time I go wine tasting I learn a little more and am better able to ask questions and carry out a conversation. I decided I need to learn more about wine, though, since our hostess was making references to how certain wines were supposed to be homages to different Bordeaux regions and I had really no idea how true that was, etc. One interesting thing for me was that the first "flight" we tasted was very geographically based -- two whites from the Russian River and a syrah from the Dry Creek region. I knew that certain wine regions are better known for certain kinds of wine, but had never really thought very seriously about a wine being "a Dry Creek syrah" as opposed to a syrah. Forgive me if this seems stupid, but I finally made this connection the other day. (Suddenly I realized it was like single origin chocolates.) Anyway, we did that and then a tasting at Beringer, where I had only been once before when I was under 21 and driving through wine country with my dad and sister. Back home, Tina and I made dinner with Justin (Dad, we made your peperoncini shrimp pasta and it was a hit, except I don't have a pan big enough to stir it all up together like you do, so it wasn't melty enough in my opinion) and then went out for a bit. I ended up coming home and watching part of Moulin Rouge with Dan.
Sunday Justin and Laurel and I had brunch at Magnolia. I'd always heard they had good brunch and it's very true. I had the cardamom-spiced French toast with garam masala whipped cream and huckleberries. I rarely get sweet breakfasts but this one was really good. The huckleberries were a lot like dried blueberries, only more tart. We also got started on our strong beer tastings at Magnolia and got through three of them before it was time for me to get a manicure with a couple of other girls. I have to say I quite enjoy getting manicures and would like to do them more often. I know I keep saying that. I took a nap before heading out to Magnolia for the second time that day. (Yeah, I know, I'm not sure how this became an idea, but we did do it on purpose.) I was supposed to meet coworkers for more strong beer, except when I got there, the friends I'd invited greatly outnumbered the coworkers, and we ended up sitting on opposite sides of the restaurant. Oops. Still, the 8 of us crammed into our 5-person table had a great time and I had the best reuben ever. It was almost spicy. We closed down Magnolia and I came home to watch more Moulin Rouge. I should say that both Saturday night and Sunday night I watched Moulin Rouge and hung out with Braden and Pat, two guys that Ace knows through work, and who I have only once hung out with before midnight. I was up pretty late Sunday night, except for the fact that I periodically fell asleep on the futon, so it was no surprise when I woke up Monday with this headcold. Since then I've made a conscious effort to vegetate and have turned down two anticipated social events, but I'm kind of trying to save up so I don't suck at my job and so I can have fun this weekend. Blah.
So I'm now something like 12 episodes into the first season of the OC, and then today in the mail I got a package from Bethany containing the entire series of Sex and the City, which is contained in the most ridiculous fuzzy magenta booklet slipped into a plexiglass box and is probably officially my most absurd belonging, and I have a lot of absurd belongings so that is saying something. I have a sort of love-hate thing for SatC and haven't watched it since the series finale, which I am pretty sure I watched on tape in Cristina's dorm room my junior year, and I'm pretty sure I cried. But I'm pretty excited about this set on my coffee table. It's definitely good entertainment for sick Emily.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Fondue
Last night was a great success. The only hitch was the fact that we started eating around 10pm. Some shopping slowdowns and the incredibly amount of time it takes to chop tons of dippers and shred two pounds of cheese, plus the fact that I forgot the fennel and broccoli in my garden and had to go back, and then forgot the fondue pot and sent Dan running back (it is so useful to have a marathoner roommate). Still, the end result was luxurious and awesome. I used this recipe and it was perfect. There was a moment when I thought it was too liquid, but it goo-ed up very well with a little more patience. Basically I could live off of last night's menu. We had cheese fondue (with pears, apples, salami, bread, carrots, prosciutto and coppa from our charcuterie plate, blanched broccoli and white asparagus, and endive for dippers) and chocolate (with angel food cake, pears, apples, dried persimmons and mangos, pineapple, strawberries, and raspberries). My particular genius (if I do say so myself) was a butter lettuce salad with blood oranges, avocado, fennel and champagne vinegar. Then we had a variety of beverages, mostly champagne, with Chambord and rosewater and creme de cassis in it (not all together, obviously). Ace and I bought yellow roses for the table, and in general we all had a great time. I definitely felt privileged to spend this holiday of love with such a great group of friends. One of my favorite V-days.
Stuff White People Like
Ah, shit. Cristina, you will pretty much love this site. (Their archive is a little funky, so you may have to click on the calendar to get back to the very beginning.)
#2 was what made me click on the link, and while they didn't mention my own particular obsession (you all know what it is), they might as well have.
*ducks in shame*
(via)
#2 was what made me click on the link, and while they didn't mention my own particular obsession (you all know what it is), they might as well have.
*ducks in shame*
(via)
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Parting shots
About to leave for the day and go shopping for -- yay!! -- fondue. I am so excited about tonight, you have no idea. My only regret is I didn't have the time to make a love music mix, but I may try to swing it last-minute. A few last thoughts before I take off for my festival of cheese.
Very pretty 3191s here and here.
Last night Justin and I saw Annie Hall at the Red Vic. I had only seen it once before, when I was pretty young, and I didn't remember it at all. I was surprised this time around by how much I liked it. I laughed a lot, and I *got* it this time around. (Woody Allen brings to mind Jack Black's comment about Stevie Wonder in "High Fidelity" -- "Is it in fact unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter-day sins? Is it better to burn out than to fade away?")
I really enjoyed this clip. I actually understood the joke about the New York Review of Books (at 1:20):
Plus you can't argue with the last monologue, appropriate on this day:
I thought of that old joke, y'know, the, this... this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and... but, uh, I guess we keep goin' through it because, uh, most of us... need the eggs.
The other thing I'm enjoying love-wise today (besides fondue tonight, friends, Rachel's MSCL Valentines, my new shirt from Target, and a busy good day at work) is a clip from Veronica Mars' second season. I've posted it here before, but I had it on my away message all day and got some old friends checking in just to muse over how awesome Veronica and Logan are (not always in that order). Mom, consider this a 2nd season spoiler, and don't watch it. (Same for other Veronica Mars newbies.)
Orges even sent me a link to this "Top 20 TV Couples" page, which places LoVe (the name for VEronica and LOgan coined by YouTube fanatics who make compilation videos of the best LoVe moments) at 10. It's got a few other classics (JAM, obvi, and Buffy and Angel) as well. Yes, consider me easily amused.
Very pretty 3191s here and here.
Last night Justin and I saw Annie Hall at the Red Vic. I had only seen it once before, when I was pretty young, and I didn't remember it at all. I was surprised this time around by how much I liked it. I laughed a lot, and I *got* it this time around. (Woody Allen brings to mind Jack Black's comment about Stevie Wonder in "High Fidelity" -- "Is it in fact unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter-day sins? Is it better to burn out than to fade away?")
I really enjoyed this clip. I actually understood the joke about the New York Review of Books (at 1:20):
Plus you can't argue with the last monologue, appropriate on this day:
I thought of that old joke, y'know, the, this... this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and... but, uh, I guess we keep goin' through it because, uh, most of us... need the eggs.
The other thing I'm enjoying love-wise today (besides fondue tonight, friends, Rachel's MSCL Valentines, my new shirt from Target, and a busy good day at work) is a clip from Veronica Mars' second season. I've posted it here before, but I had it on my away message all day and got some old friends checking in just to muse over how awesome Veronica and Logan are (not always in that order). Mom, consider this a 2nd season spoiler, and don't watch it. (Same for other Veronica Mars newbies.)
Orges even sent me a link to this "Top 20 TV Couples" page, which places LoVe (the name for VEronica and LOgan coined by YouTube fanatics who make compilation videos of the best LoVe moments) at 10. It's got a few other classics (JAM, obvi, and Buffy and Angel) as well. Yes, consider me easily amused.
Pictures of Love
On another Valentiney note, my friend Marcin at work put together a little Flickr tribute to love in all forms. I like some of them quite a lot, especially this one.
56
The Office returns April 10 with supposedly 6 new episodes. Start counting down. (To get you started: 56 days.)
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Settling
Do you sometimes get to the bottom of the first page of an online article and think to yourself, shit, I have THREE MORE (or one more, or four more, or in the case of Sunday Times articles, eight or eleven more) PAGES OF THIS??
That is what happened to me wen I read this ridiculous article in the Atlantic Monthly (via Bookslut and a bunch of other blogs written by feminists of one creed or another) about how women should get married to the first man they meet, or at least the last one they meet before they turn that evil age of thirty. I can't even express my emotions at the bottom of page one of this one. (It's like, is it satire? If it is, it's bad satire.) Here's a good clip:
So if you rarely see your husband—but he’s a decent guy who takes out the trash and sets up the baby gear, and he provides a second income that allows you to spend time with your child instead of working 60 hours a week to support a family on your own—how much does it matter whether the guy you marry is The One?
Oy.
That is what happened to me wen I read this ridiculous article in the Atlantic Monthly (via Bookslut and a bunch of other blogs written by feminists of one creed or another) about how women should get married to the first man they meet, or at least the last one they meet before they turn that evil age of thirty. I can't even express my emotions at the bottom of page one of this one. (It's like, is it satire? If it is, it's bad satire.) Here's a good clip:
So if you rarely see your husband—but he’s a decent guy who takes out the trash and sets up the baby gear, and he provides a second income that allows you to spend time with your child instead of working 60 hours a week to support a family on your own—how much does it matter whether the guy you marry is The One?
Oy.
Odds and Ends
A few things I learned today:
-The Office will be back, with 5-10 episodes. No word yet on whether or not one of those will be the Christmas episode, which they were about to start filming (or something) before the strike and is supposed to be awesome. My opinion? Give me Christmas in April if you have to.
-"Anne of Ingleside" and "Anne of Windy Poplars" were both published long after the other Anne books, including "Rilla of Ingleside" and "Rainbow Valley," which sort of explains a lot. Someday I will go to PEI. (via)
-The New York media world (or perhaps more accurately the people who are in it) is even more ridiculous every time I read about it. The latest? Joshua David Stein's tell-all report in Page Six Magazine about his relationship with Emily Gould. (Those of you who read Gawker know who these folks are. The rest of you are thankfully spared. Essentially they wrote snark together and then dated and then things went wrong and now they both come across like total assholes and I'm really glad I don't have to deal with drama like this in my life.) Though if you do pay attention to this incredibly incestuous world that I have nothing to do with but am drawn to nevertheless, you will find this pretty funny. (Thanks to Rach, who happens to be embedded in said world, for pointing me to this miniature shitstorm.)
-The Office will be back, with 5-10 episodes. No word yet on whether or not one of those will be the Christmas episode, which they were about to start filming (or something) before the strike and is supposed to be awesome. My opinion? Give me Christmas in April if you have to.
-"Anne of Ingleside" and "Anne of Windy Poplars" were both published long after the other Anne books, including "Rilla of Ingleside" and "Rainbow Valley," which sort of explains a lot. Someday I will go to PEI. (via)
-The New York media world (or perhaps more accurately the people who are in it) is even more ridiculous every time I read about it. The latest? Joshua David Stein's tell-all report in Page Six Magazine about his relationship with Emily Gould. (Those of you who read Gawker know who these folks are. The rest of you are thankfully spared. Essentially they wrote snark together and then dated and then things went wrong and now they both come across like total assholes and I'm really glad I don't have to deal with drama like this in my life.) Though if you do pay attention to this incredibly incestuous world that I have nothing to do with but am drawn to nevertheless, you will find this pretty funny. (Thanks to Rach, who happens to be embedded in said world, for pointing me to this miniature shitstorm.)
Monday, February 11, 2008
Summer preview
Whew. It's been a while. I feel like I have barely stopped to breathe in a while, although I can tell you for a fact that I have stopped to sleep and lie on the couch watching Veronica Mars. My poor blog has been somewhat neglected as a result. I feel like a lot is going on, and in some ways it is -- I went to Monterey this weekend, the weather was gorgeous in the Bay Area the whole weekend and so I had my first lazy Sunday afternoon in Dolores Park (the first of many -- I'm not even sure I'm ready for this season to start up again), I was in LA last weekend, I am already planning trips for this spring, I feel that spring mania coming upon me. And it's only February! So I feel like my thoughts are just churning around like crazy, mostly in a good way.
One thing I am really jazzed about is Valentine's Day. Why, you ask? I admit I got as much of a chuckle out of this piece Pablo sent me as you will, except that I love Valentine's Day. I can't quite explain why I like it so much (I do think part of it is that my family always did and still does treat it like a family holiday, so we got little Valentine's Day gifts with zero romantic pressure), but I do. This year I'm celebrating with a little "nuclear urban family" (my term, it applies to my roommates plus Justin, who is our fourth roommate-in-spirit/Kramer) dinner. The menu? Definitely part of my excitement, since it consists of both cheese and chocolate fondue, a charcuterie plate, and champagne cocktails. Sign me up, right?
A short summary of my weekend: Friday night my boss let me go early so I started my weekend with a few episodes of Veronica Mars (I'm on the second season) on the couch, broken up by Peruvian food with Dan for dinner (weirdly reminiscent of Asian food, I know, I'm strange). Around 11, Dan and Justin and I headed down to the Elbo Room, where my friend Phia was throwing a fundraiser event (in conjunction with the Elbo Room's usual "Free Funk Fridays") for dyslexia. It was a pretty good time and I rallied despite being completely exhausted. There were a good 10 or 15 people that I knew there, which always helps, and Phia raised almost twice what she expected to that night.
Saturday I woke early (grudgingly) to drive down with six friends to Pebble Beach where we watched the AT&T Pro-Am. Celebrities sighted: Luke Wilson, Chris O'Donnell, Josh Duhamel, Ray Romano, Kenny G (his caddy had "Kenny G" on her back instead of "G," to my disappointment), Don Cheadle, and some more. Besides Luke Wilson, who we all school-girlishly (and this was me, one other girl and five guys) huddled next to a fence to see walk by (signing autographs for less-embarrassed fans), the highlight was the weather. It was actually HOT, and not windy at all, and just plain gorgeous. The only downside was that I had prepared for much cooler weather and was as a result roasting the whole time. I did escape a sunburn pretty much accidentally, and the heat meant that I thoroughly enjoyed both of me $6.50 Bud Lights (it is possible). We also spotted this seal on the beach that looked dead but, it turned out, was totally fine and had been there for like two days just chilling. (We called the Emergency line at the Monterey Aquarium to verify this.) Much of the rest of the day, once we checked into our hotel, was spent watching basketball (Go Stanford! and also I sat through my first Warriors game, albeit on mute) and playing drinking games as well as this awesome no-skill-involved dice gambling game called Three Bill. A brief jaunt out to a pub in "Old" Monterey where I had a Young's Oatmeal Stout, and then four of us went to bed early.
Yesterday was only slightly less sun-drenched. We drove up to Santa Cruz and met Peattie's parents for brunch at their classic brunch spot Zachary's, where I had the best home fries I've ever had, I think, as well as a "Velvet Hammer," which is champagne mixed with Guinness. (I really didn't need more booze, but I had to try that combo.) When we got back to the city we went straight to the park for my first Dolores Park afternoon of 2008. It felt so eerily familiar and I find it crazy that I've been living in the city for as long as I have (I know I didn't actually move there until July of last year, but I started spending much more time there starting in February, so I feel like I'm going through an anniversary of sorts). We considered carrying on and having a barbecue or something, but all kind of trickled out. Ace and I finished the weekend the way I began it, watching Veronica Mars until it was time for bed. All in all, not bad.
Anyway, I basically wanted to check in. I won't leave you hanging for so long again.
One thing I am really jazzed about is Valentine's Day. Why, you ask? I admit I got as much of a chuckle out of this piece Pablo sent me as you will, except that I love Valentine's Day. I can't quite explain why I like it so much (I do think part of it is that my family always did and still does treat it like a family holiday, so we got little Valentine's Day gifts with zero romantic pressure), but I do. This year I'm celebrating with a little "nuclear urban family" (my term, it applies to my roommates plus Justin, who is our fourth roommate-in-spirit/Kramer) dinner. The menu? Definitely part of my excitement, since it consists of both cheese and chocolate fondue, a charcuterie plate, and champagne cocktails. Sign me up, right?
A short summary of my weekend: Friday night my boss let me go early so I started my weekend with a few episodes of Veronica Mars (I'm on the second season) on the couch, broken up by Peruvian food with Dan for dinner (weirdly reminiscent of Asian food, I know, I'm strange). Around 11, Dan and Justin and I headed down to the Elbo Room, where my friend Phia was throwing a fundraiser event (in conjunction with the Elbo Room's usual "Free Funk Fridays") for dyslexia. It was a pretty good time and I rallied despite being completely exhausted. There were a good 10 or 15 people that I knew there, which always helps, and Phia raised almost twice what she expected to that night.
Saturday I woke early (grudgingly) to drive down with six friends to Pebble Beach where we watched the AT&T Pro-Am. Celebrities sighted: Luke Wilson, Chris O'Donnell, Josh Duhamel, Ray Romano, Kenny G (his caddy had "Kenny G" on her back instead of "G," to my disappointment), Don Cheadle, and some more. Besides Luke Wilson, who we all school-girlishly (and this was me, one other girl and five guys) huddled next to a fence to see walk by (signing autographs for less-embarrassed fans), the highlight was the weather. It was actually HOT, and not windy at all, and just plain gorgeous. The only downside was that I had prepared for much cooler weather and was as a result roasting the whole time. I did escape a sunburn pretty much accidentally, and the heat meant that I thoroughly enjoyed both of me $6.50 Bud Lights (it is possible). We also spotted this seal on the beach that looked dead but, it turned out, was totally fine and had been there for like two days just chilling. (We called the Emergency line at the Monterey Aquarium to verify this.) Much of the rest of the day, once we checked into our hotel, was spent watching basketball (Go Stanford! and also I sat through my first Warriors game, albeit on mute) and playing drinking games as well as this awesome no-skill-involved dice gambling game called Three Bill. A brief jaunt out to a pub in "Old" Monterey where I had a Young's Oatmeal Stout, and then four of us went to bed early.
Yesterday was only slightly less sun-drenched. We drove up to Santa Cruz and met Peattie's parents for brunch at their classic brunch spot Zachary's, where I had the best home fries I've ever had, I think, as well as a "Velvet Hammer," which is champagne mixed with Guinness. (I really didn't need more booze, but I had to try that combo.) When we got back to the city we went straight to the park for my first Dolores Park afternoon of 2008. It felt so eerily familiar and I find it crazy that I've been living in the city for as long as I have (I know I didn't actually move there until July of last year, but I started spending much more time there starting in February, so I feel like I'm going through an anniversary of sorts). We considered carrying on and having a barbecue or something, but all kind of trickled out. Ace and I finished the weekend the way I began it, watching Veronica Mars until it was time for bed. All in all, not bad.
Anyway, I basically wanted to check in. I won't leave you hanging for so long again.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters
I just finished reading "Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters." It was different from what I expected. I don't really know what I expected -- I guess I just didn't expect it to be about me. But it was. It wasn't just about girls with eating disorders. It was about how women in our generation spend huge portions of their days worrying about what they eat, when they could be putting time and energy into more important things that matter to them more. It was about how even if we don't binge or purge, or starve ourselves, or overexercise, we are running around in our heads feeling guilty or angry at ourselves. It was about how we feel the need to be perfect, effortlessly, and that includes our bodies but it includes much more than that. It was about how we feel pressure to do everything all the time.
I typed up a few excerpts and I'll be sharing them over the next few days. In the meantime let me just say this is highly recommended, especially if you are a twenty-something who has ever felt in over her head and not wanted to admit it.
I typed up a few excerpts and I'll be sharing them over the next few days. In the meantime let me just say this is highly recommended, especially if you are a twenty-something who has ever felt in over her head and not wanted to admit it.
Michael Chabon on Obama
Great op-ed by Michael Chabon in the Washington Post supporting Obama:
In a better world, if there were such a thing (and so far there never has been), we would not need a president like Obama as badly as we do. If there were less at stake, if our democracy had not been permitted, indeed encouraged, to sink to its present degraded and embattled condition not only by the present administration but by a fair number of those people now seeking to head up the next one, perhaps then we could afford to waste our votes on the candidate who knows best how to jigger, to manipulate and to conform to the vapid specifications of the debased electoral process it has been our unhappy fate to construct for ourselves.
Because ultimately, that is the point of Obama's candidacy -- of the hope, enthusiasm and sense of purpose it inspires, yes, but more crucially, of the very doubts and reservations expressed by those who pronounce, whether in tones of regret, certainty or skepticism, that America is not ready for Obama, or that Obama is not ready for the job, or that nobody of any worth or decency -- supposing there even to be such a person left on the American political scene -- can be expected to survive for a moment with his idealism and principle intact.
The point of Obama's candidacy is that the damaged state of American democracy is not the fault of George W. Bush and his minions, the corporate-controlled media, the insurance industry, the oil industry, lobbyists, terrorists, illegal immigrants or Satan. The point is that this mess is our fault. We let in the serpents and liars, we exchanged shining ideals for a handful of nails and some two-by-fours, and we did it by resorting to the simplest, deepest-seated and readiest method we possess as human beings for trying to make sense of the world: through our fear. America has become a phobocracy.
(Read it all here.)What MTV hath wrought
Wow. Heidi Montag's music video really is even worse than you think it will be. I couldn't even get through half of it.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Belize it or not
Whew. What a day. I spent a good part of yesterday and today trying to find and buy tickets to Belize, where James, Justin, Dan, Laurel and I will be traveling at the end of March. We totally managed to con Continental Airlines' website -- it's kind of a long story and I'm still not sure how it happened but the point was we couldn't buy four tickets at once for $520 apiece, we could only buy 4 for $580 each. But, when we searched for just one ticket, it was $520 each. The customer service rep said that meant that there weren't enough tickets available at the lower price point. So I tried to buy three tickets for $520 -- and that was working. I did that while James tried to buy one for $520, and somehow, it worked! It was completely worth the fifteen minutes James (who also works at Google) and I spent on the phone walking through the Continental website together while my boss sort of patiently ignored the fact that I wasn't working. Luckily the rest of yesterday and today I was really busy with work -- luckily for her and my company, but not so much for the rest of you, who I am sure have missed my compulsive updates tremendously. Don't worry, I plan on catching up on blogging tomorrow and over the weekend. In the meantime, I'm wrapping up my work day and getting ready to go stand in line for like, three hours for the chance to see Vampire Weekend. It is truly ridiculous that you East Coasters have seen them play ad nauseum and the rest of us are reduced to queuing in the rain in SOMA just to be as hip as you all and see them once.
Still.
(Side note: The fact that "Belize" sounds like "believe" is furnishing us with tons of puns and you should expect to hear them through at least April.)
Still.
(Side note: The fact that "Belize" sounds like "believe" is furnishing us with tons of puns and you should expect to hear them through at least April.)
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Anne Sexton
I stumbled across this list of ten "extraordinary literary suicides" yesterday (morbid much? would have been useful for my Halloween costumes) and read this little phrase in one of them:
In a tribute to her in the New York Times, Erica Jong wrote, “Anne Sexton killed herself because it is too painful to live in this world without numbness, and she had no numbness at all.”
I just really thought it was a sad, perfect way of saying that. Then I went and read some Sexton. (I hadn't read any except for basic stuff in poetry classes.) I hardly even noticed the rhyme in this one until I copied it over.
The Truth the Dead Know
Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.
We drive to the Cape. I cultivate
myself where the sun gutters from the sky,
where the sea swings in like an iron gate
and we touch. In another country people die.
My darling, the wind falls in like stones
from the whitehearted water and when we touch
we enter touch entirely. No one's alone.
Men kill for this, or for as much.
And what of the dead? They lie without shoes
in the stone boats. They are more like stone
than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse
to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.
In a tribute to her in the New York Times, Erica Jong wrote, “Anne Sexton killed herself because it is too painful to live in this world without numbness, and she had no numbness at all.”
I just really thought it was a sad, perfect way of saying that. Then I went and read some Sexton. (I hadn't read any except for basic stuff in poetry classes.) I hardly even noticed the rhyme in this one until I copied it over.
The Truth the Dead Know
Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.
We drive to the Cape. I cultivate
myself where the sun gutters from the sky,
where the sea swings in like an iron gate
and we touch. In another country people die.
My darling, the wind falls in like stones
from the whitehearted water and when we touch
we enter touch entirely. No one's alone.
Men kill for this, or for as much.
And what of the dead? They lie without shoes
in the stone boats. They are more like stone
than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse
to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.
Toni Morrison's letter to Barack
Busy day today -- I'm sure you can all tell since I haven't posted much! I really liked Toni Morrison's endorsement of Barack Obama yesterday.
In thinking carefully about the strengths of the candidates, I stunned myself when I came to the following conclusion: that in addition to keen intelligence, integrity and a rare authenticity, you exhibit something that has nothing to do with age, experience, race or gender and something I don't see in other candidates. That something is a creative imagination which coupled with brilliance equals wisdom. It is too bad if we associate it only with gray hair and old age. Or if we call searing vision naivete. Or if we believe cunning is insight. Or if we settle for finessing cures tailored for each ravaged tree in the forest while ignoring the poisonous landscape that feeds and surrounds it. Wisdom is a gift; you can't train for it, inherit it, learn it in a class, or earn it in the workplace--that access can foster the acquisition of knowledge, but not wisdom.
You can read all of it here.
In thinking carefully about the strengths of the candidates, I stunned myself when I came to the following conclusion: that in addition to keen intelligence, integrity and a rare authenticity, you exhibit something that has nothing to do with age, experience, race or gender and something I don't see in other candidates. That something is a creative imagination which coupled with brilliance equals wisdom. It is too bad if we associate it only with gray hair and old age. Or if we call searing vision naivete. Or if we believe cunning is insight. Or if we settle for finessing cures tailored for each ravaged tree in the forest while ignoring the poisonous landscape that feeds and surrounds it. Wisdom is a gift; you can't train for it, inherit it, learn it in a class, or earn it in the workplace--that access can foster the acquisition of knowledge, but not wisdom.
You can read all of it here.
"Heartache Leave"
Via BuzzFeed (and wherever else I read about it yesterday), news that a Japanese company is offering paid time off when you are going through a breakup. (You know, for more wallowing.)
Other suggestions: Hangover Leave, Catching Up On The Wire Leave, I Need A Sandwich Leave.
Amen. I need catching up on all TV shows leave, and eliminating unread posts from my Google Reader leave. Hell, why can't I just take "having a life" leave.
Other suggestions: Hangover Leave, Catching Up On The Wire Leave, I Need A Sandwich Leave.
Amen. I need catching up on all TV shows leave, and eliminating unread posts from my Google Reader leave. Hell, why can't I just take "having a life" leave.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Short, sweet, and important
Last week Dan was watching "Who Killed the Electric Car?" and I caught the last half or so of it with him. I highly recommend it. It's one of those movies that makes you fear corporate America.
Politics of the day
Finally got around to reading the New York Times endorsements for the Presidential primaries. I won't comment much on the Democratic endorsement (it makes some fair points), but I have something to say about the Republican one:
Why, as a New York-based paper, are we not backing Rudolph Giuliani? Why not choose the man we endorsed for re-election in 1997 after a first term in which he showed that a dirty, dangerous, supposedly ungovernable city could become clean, safe and orderly? What about the man who stood fast on Sept. 11, when others, including President Bush, went AWOL?
That man is not running for president.
The real Mr. Giuliani, whom many New Yorkers came to know and mistrust, is a narrow, obsessively secretive, vindictive man who saw no need to limit police power. Racial polarization was as much a legacy of his tenure as the rebirth of Times Square.
Mr. Giuliani’s arrogance and bad judgment are breathtaking. When he claims fiscal prudence, we remember how he ran through surpluses without a thought to the inevitable downturn and bequeathed huge deficits to his successor. He fired Police Commissioner William Bratton, the architect of the drop in crime, because he couldn’t share the limelight. He later gave the job to Bernard Kerik, who has now been indicted on fraud and corruption charges.
The Rudolph Giuliani of 2008 first shamelessly turned the horror of 9/11 into a lucrative business, with a secret client list, then exploited his city’s and the country’s nightmare to promote his presidential campaign.
Oh, SNAP, New York Times. Seriously. What a fantastic, sharp takedown.Mansfield Park
Pretty bummed I missed this. I knew it was happening but didn't know the schedule, and there is almost no point in me watching any of it now since the new (i.e. not the old A&E Emma and P&P) movies are supposed to be bad (at least according to the New Yorker) and I've already seen the old ones before. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to stick with all the Jane Austen adaptations I already own. What a bummer. Ha.
P.S. Did you know this existed?? I did not but I am so tivoing it.
P.S. Did you know this existed?? I did not but I am so tivoing it.
Scary statistic of the day
In 1995, 34 percent of high school-age girls in the United States thought they were overweight. Today, 90 percent do.
--Courtney Martin, "Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters"
Another weekend has come and gone.
It started with a bang and ended with something of a whimper. Friday was the much anticipated R. Kelly Trapped in the Closet Singalong. Pretty much half of my friends were there, which was pretty damn exciting, but not as exciting as the moments when the entire population inside Mezzanine was slow dancing -- can you call it grooving? -- to R Kelly's oeuvre. The only downside was that after showing all of the first twelve chapters as well as some classic music videos and spoofs, they only showed maybe four of the second part, and that they showed out of order. Disrespectful to R, in my opinion. We got home late and dried out a little bit -- I was wearing the least rain-appropriate outfit ever, had no umbrella, and was literally soaked through -- before heading out to a party briefly.
The next day was profoundly unproductive. After a Boogaloo's brunch and a long wait at Walgreen's for prescriptions that weren't even filled, and then a long break for showers and whatnot, Justin and Ace and I went to get pedicures in the Lower Haight. It was fantastic -- cheaper than the place I'd been before, plus they have massage chairs. I think I fell in love a little, and feel more inclined to indulge more often, even though I always thought of the regular mani-pedi as an unbearably snobby New York thing. (No offense.) I rushed back to meet Becca for a dinner at the Front Porch, in outer Mission/Bernal (where does my neighborhood end? I have no idea). We had really tasty fried chicken and a beet salad. I am pro-beets. After that it was another rush back home and then to the Connecticut Yankee to rendezvous for "The Party Bus." Peattie's birthday plan was basically to get a bunch of people at this bar and then get them all on the same 22-line bus up to his house. It was actually impressive. Dan and I were the last to arrive at the bar, and there were a ton of people there. (I'm not positive, but I thought I counted 22 people total.) We had a beer and then with the help of multiple smart phones and NextMuni, we hopped on an absolutely empty bus with a totally indifferent bus driver. It was quite the ride, I am really glad I was there for it. The highlight was probably when this teenage kid with majorly sagging pants got on the bus and in his rush completely dropped his pants. We all burst out laughing because haven't you always wondered how those kids keep their pants up? I mean the waist is essentially at their knees to begin with. Anyway, it turns out they don't always keep them up. It was a pretty classic moment. The party was fun and involved a lot of Daft Punk and the Peattie family Lynchburg Lemonade, and it was very late before me, Dan and Justin made it home and crashed.
Yesterday was a total veg day. The first part of the day was spent half-helping Justin move, which didn't take that long but did require me walking up a flight and a half of steep stairs enough to make me sweat despite carrying approximately five pounds' worth of his belongings while four guys carried all the big stuff. We hit up Tartine for some late buttery breakfast and actually sat there to eat it, which was a new experience for me because my primary exposure to Tartine is Dan bringing it home for me when he is on his productive weekend kicks. I had a croissant (special treat, I usually avoid pastries) and a hot chocolate, continuing my ban on coffee. It seems stupid because coffee has no calories and hot chocolate has a lot, but I'm sticking with it. This hot chocolate was especially good, too, very actually chocolatey instead of just sweet. Then I settled in for the remainder of my day. I watched four movies yesterday, in a true moment of sloth and self-medication. The films of choice were Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which is so perfect, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, When Harry Met Sally (a rewatching necessitated by a conversation I had Saturday night), and You've Got Mail. Because by that point I had no shame, even though both Ace and Justin were around for that moment of girliness. I was pleased to discover that Ace has the movie memorized even better than I do, and I was also pretty excited to discover that a week from tomorrow is the release date of the 10-year anniversary edition of You've Got Mail. We are so timely.
So it sounds like I didn't manage to get anything done this weekend, but I actually did. I finally embarked on my long-term planned project to throw out my stacks and stacks of magazines. I have been saving them for a reason, which is that I want to cut out the parts I want and recycle the rest and rid my life of clutter. I tossed at least forty magazines yesterday, and in the process discovered that I have even more magazines than I thought. It's a surprisingly hard process to make myself do... I love the glossiness of magazines, and sometimes things are so much better in the context of the mag than they are separated out. I have mini-crises of conscience and purpose when I don't cut out the picture of the recipe to go with the recipe, since I think the picture is what will inspire me to make it, and if I'm not going to be inspired to make it I shouldn't cut it out, and... yeah. Suffice it to say that I am weird.
Also, I think my camera got rained on Friday night while I was tramping around near Civic Center in the downpour, and I think it's broken. We'll have to see.
The next day was profoundly unproductive. After a Boogaloo's brunch and a long wait at Walgreen's for prescriptions that weren't even filled, and then a long break for showers and whatnot, Justin and Ace and I went to get pedicures in the Lower Haight. It was fantastic -- cheaper than the place I'd been before, plus they have massage chairs. I think I fell in love a little, and feel more inclined to indulge more often, even though I always thought of the regular mani-pedi as an unbearably snobby New York thing. (No offense.) I rushed back to meet Becca for a dinner at the Front Porch, in outer Mission/Bernal (where does my neighborhood end? I have no idea). We had really tasty fried chicken and a beet salad. I am pro-beets. After that it was another rush back home and then to the Connecticut Yankee to rendezvous for "The Party Bus." Peattie's birthday plan was basically to get a bunch of people at this bar and then get them all on the same 22-line bus up to his house. It was actually impressive. Dan and I were the last to arrive at the bar, and there were a ton of people there. (I'm not positive, but I thought I counted 22 people total.) We had a beer and then with the help of multiple smart phones and NextMuni, we hopped on an absolutely empty bus with a totally indifferent bus driver. It was quite the ride, I am really glad I was there for it. The highlight was probably when this teenage kid with majorly sagging pants got on the bus and in his rush completely dropped his pants. We all burst out laughing because haven't you always wondered how those kids keep their pants up? I mean the waist is essentially at their knees to begin with. Anyway, it turns out they don't always keep them up. It was a pretty classic moment. The party was fun and involved a lot of Daft Punk and the Peattie family Lynchburg Lemonade, and it was very late before me, Dan and Justin made it home and crashed.
Yesterday was a total veg day. The first part of the day was spent half-helping Justin move, which didn't take that long but did require me walking up a flight and a half of steep stairs enough to make me sweat despite carrying approximately five pounds' worth of his belongings while four guys carried all the big stuff. We hit up Tartine for some late buttery breakfast and actually sat there to eat it, which was a new experience for me because my primary exposure to Tartine is Dan bringing it home for me when he is on his productive weekend kicks. I had a croissant (special treat, I usually avoid pastries) and a hot chocolate, continuing my ban on coffee. It seems stupid because coffee has no calories and hot chocolate has a lot, but I'm sticking with it. This hot chocolate was especially good, too, very actually chocolatey instead of just sweet. Then I settled in for the remainder of my day. I watched four movies yesterday, in a true moment of sloth and self-medication. The films of choice were Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which is so perfect, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, When Harry Met Sally (a rewatching necessitated by a conversation I had Saturday night), and You've Got Mail. Because by that point I had no shame, even though both Ace and Justin were around for that moment of girliness. I was pleased to discover that Ace has the movie memorized even better than I do, and I was also pretty excited to discover that a week from tomorrow is the release date of the 10-year anniversary edition of You've Got Mail. We are so timely.
So it sounds like I didn't manage to get anything done this weekend, but I actually did. I finally embarked on my long-term planned project to throw out my stacks and stacks of magazines. I have been saving them for a reason, which is that I want to cut out the parts I want and recycle the rest and rid my life of clutter. I tossed at least forty magazines yesterday, and in the process discovered that I have even more magazines than I thought. It's a surprisingly hard process to make myself do... I love the glossiness of magazines, and sometimes things are so much better in the context of the mag than they are separated out. I have mini-crises of conscience and purpose when I don't cut out the picture of the recipe to go with the recipe, since I think the picture is what will inspire me to make it, and if I'm not going to be inspired to make it I shouldn't cut it out, and... yeah. Suffice it to say that I am weird.
Also, I think my camera got rained on Friday night while I was tramping around near Civic Center in the downpour, and I think it's broken. We'll have to see.
Minimalizing meat consumption
Interesting article by Mark Bittman (the "minimalist") about meat consumption in the Times yesterday. I don't think I'm anywhere near the level of meat consumption as the average American -- generally speaking I only have meat in one of my meals a day (excluding dairy and eggs), but I was glad that at lunch today, immediately before reading this article, I only ate half of my salmon.
Americans are downing close to 200 pounds of meat, poultry and fish per capita per year (dairy and eggs are separate, and hardly insignificant), an increase of 50 pounds per person from 50 years ago. We each consume something like 110 grams of protein a day, about twice the federal government’s recommended allowance; of that, about 75 grams come from animal protein. (The recommended level is itself considered by many dietary experts to be higher than it needs to be.) It’s likely that most of us would do just fine on around 30 grams of protein a day, virtually all of it from plant sources.
I've been thinking recently about what I can do to be healthier and to be gentler on our environment. I of course knew that meat consumption was especially bad, in a variety of ways, but this was another reminder. It's not like I need to add another item to my list of New Year's resolutions, but as part of my "greener" and healthier 2008, I've thought that perhaps I should adapt more natural food habits. Meaning something akin to Michael Pollan's 12 Commandments for Serious Eaters. There are definitely some arguments to be made about the wording or general-ness of some of his commandments, but I'm thinking especially hard about the ones in bold, below:
Americans are downing close to 200 pounds of meat, poultry and fish per capita per year (dairy and eggs are separate, and hardly insignificant), an increase of 50 pounds per person from 50 years ago. We each consume something like 110 grams of protein a day, about twice the federal government’s recommended allowance; of that, about 75 grams come from animal protein. (The recommended level is itself considered by many dietary experts to be higher than it needs to be.) It’s likely that most of us would do just fine on around 30 grams of protein a day, virtually all of it from plant sources.
I've been thinking recently about what I can do to be healthier and to be gentler on our environment. I of course knew that meat consumption was especially bad, in a variety of ways, but this was another reminder. It's not like I need to add another item to my list of New Year's resolutions, but as part of my "greener" and healthier 2008, I've thought that perhaps I should adapt more natural food habits. Meaning something akin to Michael Pollan's 12 Commandments for Serious Eaters. There are definitely some arguments to be made about the wording or general-ness of some of his commandments, but I'm thinking especially hard about the ones in bold, below:
1. "Don't eat anything your grandmother wouldn't recognize as food."
2. "Avoid foods containing ingredients you can't pronounce."
3. "Don't eat anything that won't eventually rot."
4. "Avoid food products that carry health claims."
5. "Shop the peripheries of the supermarket; stay out of the middle."
6. "Better yet, buy food somewhere else: the farmers' market or CSA."
7. "Pay more, eat less."
8. "Eat a wide variety of species."
9. "Eat food from animals that eat grass."
10. "Cook, and if you can, grow some of your own food."
11. "Eat meals and eat them only at tables."
12. "Eat deliberately, with other people whenever possible, and always with pleasure."
Owls taking over
Books that make you dumb
I finally looked at this much-buzzed-about chart of Facebook favorite books (the top 10 per college) correlated with the SAT scores of that college. It is pretty amusing and in many ways what you would expect, but I was surprised by a few things. Like, "Their Eyes were watching God" and "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" were both correlated with lower SAT scores than Dan Brown & the Da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons and (no offense, Kelly) "My Sister's Keeper." Anyway, even just my reaction to this site makes me feel like a snob. For the record, my favorite books on Facebook are:
eros the bittersweet, midnight's children, still life with woodpecker, vonnegut, the unbearable lightness of being, lolita, anne of green gables, the betsy-tacy books, calvin and hobbes, the big sleep, little women, ring of endless light, his dark materials, farewell to arms, the beauty of the husband, exodus, harry potter, house of mirth, madame bovary, prep, joan didion, alice munro, george saunders, the accidental, lonesome dove, the dwindling party, 3 days on a river in a red canoe, jude the obscure, eat pray love, the singing boones, then we came to the end, the road
Only four of those are on the chart.
(via)
eros the bittersweet, midnight's children, still life with woodpecker, vonnegut, the unbearable lightness of being, lolita, anne of green gables, the betsy-tacy books, calvin and hobbes, the big sleep, little women, ring of endless light, his dark materials, farewell to arms, the beauty of the husband, exodus, harry potter, house of mirth, madame bovary, prep, joan didion, alice munro, george saunders, the accidental, lonesome dove, the dwindling party, 3 days on a river in a red canoe, jude the obscure, eat pray love, the singing boones, then we came to the end, the road
Only four of those are on the chart.
(via)
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
kthxbai
Two of my blogs went defunct today -- John Mayer's, which, as I have said before, is really hilarious, and LolSecretz, which at least is not deleting its archives. Bummer.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Self-indulgent photos
Finally! I cleaned my disaster of a room and made up my bed so you can see my new bedding. I'm very excited about this newest step in my redecoration/life makeover.
The bedding is West Elm. (So is the hedgehog pillow. The pillow with the perfectly-matching tree on it is Ikea though.)
So you can (vaguely) see the new Anthropologie rug (thanks Mom & Dad!). This photo is kind of blurry. Sorry.
My tray table that Dad made me for Christmas!!
In unrelated news, however, I must present you these:
Yeah, ok, our mirror is cracked and the tile in that closet is ugly as hell and I don't want to be one of those people who takes pictures of their own body parts or clothes to show off how cool they are on their blog, but THEY FINALLY CAME! Never has a pair of shoes so made me want to put on a pair of shorts with tights and parade around town. I am such a tool. It's awesome.
The bedding is West Elm. (So is the hedgehog pillow. The pillow with the perfectly-matching tree on it is Ikea though.)
So you can (vaguely) see the new Anthropologie rug (thanks Mom & Dad!). This photo is kind of blurry. Sorry.
My tray table that Dad made me for Christmas!!In unrelated news, however, I must present you these:
Yeah, ok, our mirror is cracked and the tile in that closet is ugly as hell and I don't want to be one of those people who takes pictures of their own body parts or clothes to show off how cool they are on their blog, but THEY FINALLY CAME! Never has a pair of shoes so made me want to put on a pair of shorts with tights and parade around town. I am such a tool. It's awesome.
Road Trip America
I went into Dan's and my old roadtrip blog, just to see how we'd made the banner (I improved upon that method, I think), and had a moment of major nostalgia. That was such a fantastic trip. I wish I could repeat it. Whenever I end up changing jobs/careers/life, I am going to make sure to take some serious time off and travel around the country for a while. I keep talking to people who say that about the world -- they want to buy one of those worldwide tickets and backpack everywhere. And that sounds fun, but I still don't feel like I understand my own country. I want to travel the rest of the world, but I also want to go to the Deep South and back to New Orleans and out to the coast of Maine and finally actually see Yellowstone and Seattle and De Smet, South Dakota. I feel like we have such a great heritage here, and sometimes I forget about it, about the people who built up this country (yeah, I realize they also slaughtered the native population, but forgive me my moment of historical inaccuracy/ignorance/willful nostalgia), who traveled across it on horse and on foot. I like that we have such a large scope, that we are so big, and that our land is so diverse, and I think sometimes we forget that because we're too busy bitching about George Bush and evangelicals and SUVs.
Redesign
Well, with the help of this really disorganized site, picnik (which is buggier than I expected it to be) and a good hour of refreshing and retrying, I finally managed to put a new banner on the top of the site. I do think it's a little girly, but I like it. It seems like some of you do too, since you've discovered it through my "fucking with my blog" gchat away message (I am so eloquent, am I not?). Anyone else have an opinion? I am feeling like I need to make some customization and changes. Less but better?!
Friends?
When my friends and I have done puzzles (twice in January), Peattie refers to pieces that match together as "friends," so the entire puzzle is made up of a bunch of friends (1026 in the case of the Rockwell puzzle we did over the weekend). That fits well with this series of puzzle-art, in which the artist has taken 6 puzzles and put them together with some pieces in the wrong places (some are shape-wise interchangeable if you buy from the same brand) and titled it Love=Love. This is my favorite one.
(via FFFFOUND!)
(via FFFFOUND!)
Melissa Lion on "The Virgin Suicides"
Another piece from Bookslut (I should spread these out more, huh). I really only want to post this because I thought it was a unique perspective and definitely brought my attention to a part of a book I hadn't noticed before. I love it when particular strange bits of books are more important to some people than others... It makes me feel good about the book world. Scroll down to the last three paragraphs, when she starts talking about "The Virgin Suicides."
The New Atheism
I haven't mentioned her in a while but I have mixed feelings about Jessa Crispin, who founded and runs Bookslut. It's a great blog/magazine, but sometimes Jessa herself seems to be on a high horse or otherwise just hammering away at the same topics (science, feminism, how awesome graphic novels are). It brings a level of specificity to her site, but sometimes it feels tired. At any rate, she wrote this interesting review of a new book "God and the New Atheism," rebutting all the atheist lit that's come out recently (Harris, Dawkins, Hitchens -- isn't there a way to combine those three names into something catchy? Darchens? Hawchens? Boo).
First there was Dawkins’ calling an education in religious faith — even moderate faith — “child abuse.” Sam Harris chided religious moderates for being “in large part, responsible for the religious conflict in our world.” They didn’t simply want an end to fundamentalism or the use of religious doctrine in governmental policy. They treated Christians as if they all believed the Earth was only 6,000 years old, and Muslims as if they were all strapped with explosives. If you pray to Jesus when your world is falling apart, or blame Mercury being in retrograde when your car won’t start, you are part of the problem.
I haven't read any of the books in question except for "The End of Faith," so I don't have a super super strong opinion on Jessa's review. And to be honest, it focuses more on the "new atheist" books than on the book that she purports to review (see what I mean about her pet issues?). Anyone else have any insight?
(It was only just this morning I looked into my bookcase and thought to myself, huh, I should read that Hitchens book. Must be some kind of sign.)
(via, what else, Bookslut)
First there was Dawkins’ calling an education in religious faith — even moderate faith — “child abuse.” Sam Harris chided religious moderates for being “in large part, responsible for the religious conflict in our world.” They didn’t simply want an end to fundamentalism or the use of religious doctrine in governmental policy. They treated Christians as if they all believed the Earth was only 6,000 years old, and Muslims as if they were all strapped with explosives. If you pray to Jesus when your world is falling apart, or blame Mercury being in retrograde when your car won’t start, you are part of the problem.
I haven't read any of the books in question except for "The End of Faith," so I don't have a super super strong opinion on Jessa's review. And to be honest, it focuses more on the "new atheist" books than on the book that she purports to review (see what I mean about her pet issues?). Anyone else have any insight?
(It was only just this morning I looked into my bookcase and thought to myself, huh, I should read that Hitchens book. Must be some kind of sign.)
(via, what else, Bookslut)
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Catalogs and rambling
Well, I took Casey's advice and signed up for CatalogChoice.org. I had wanted to do that anyway, take my name off of mailing lists or whatever, but hadn't found quite the right way to do it. This was a really easy and awesome way to unsubscribe from catalogs. What freaked me out, though, was that now, instead of taking every junk catalog I get and tossing it into the recycling, now I stack them until I have a moment to go online and unsubscribe from them. It's actually horrifying to discover how many catalogs I receive, from companies I've never heard from. So now I have unsubscribed from 12 so far. I am only allowing myself to receive three catalogs -- J.Crew, Urban Outfitters, and Anthropologie. Am I repeating myself? I might be. Anyway, I am pretty excited about this. Next step: composting. God knows where we'll find a spot for it in our tiny house.
Tonight I watched an ep of Friday Night Lights (only 2 episodes behind now), ate ramen, and then cleaned my room. It was so in need of it -- Sara knows because she was just here and having to share the space with me. It was literally like an explosion. So now I've cleaned up most of it and feel a bit better. I still can't wait for Sunday, when I can take the time to really start digging into my organizing and such. Dad, your comment about living simply and collecting stuff was sort of true -- I think it's just a matter of picking and choosing which stuff you have or keep. I really need to get rid of clothes, since right now I don't have enough space in my closet or drawers for what I own. I just keep telling myself, one step at a time. So right now it's only 9:30 and I am about to settle in for either an episode of Buffy or one of the Office, which I think I need to revisit. Man. I'm wiped out.
Tonight I watched an ep of Friday Night Lights (only 2 episodes behind now), ate ramen, and then cleaned my room. It was so in need of it -- Sara knows because she was just here and having to share the space with me. It was literally like an explosion. So now I've cleaned up most of it and feel a bit better. I still can't wait for Sunday, when I can take the time to really start digging into my organizing and such. Dad, your comment about living simply and collecting stuff was sort of true -- I think it's just a matter of picking and choosing which stuff you have or keep. I really need to get rid of clothes, since right now I don't have enough space in my closet or drawers for what I own. I just keep telling myself, one step at a time. So right now it's only 9:30 and I am about to settle in for either an episode of Buffy or one of the Office, which I think I need to revisit. Man. I'm wiped out.
Stephanie Congdon Barnes
It's no secret I have a huge blog crush (web crush?) on Stephanie Congdon Barnes, who makes little softie animals and is one half of 3191. SFGirlByBay did an "unexpected guest" Q&A with Stephanie this week and I really liked this one thing she said. In response to the question "Who do you admire and why?" she said, "I admire people that live simply and intentionally." I really like that. That is what I would like to do -- that's why I have such a girl crush on all my design bloggers. Anyway, I just thought it was a good way of putting it. I had really strong intentions when I posted my New Year's Resolutions, but they have already fallen by the wayside a little bit. I am hoping that this week (Sunday, provided I'm not just totally recovering from Peattie's 2nd birthday party of the week -- and I really can't call him a selfish bastard because I have had two birthday parties for like the past four years) I will be able to reclaim that a little bit. Yay for living deliberately.
And on a petty house-decorating note, I really really want to have some kind of whimsies tray like this one. (Minus the Q-tips I guess.) I actually found and saved a few little whimsies when I went through all my old stuff in the garage at my parents' house. I would like to do something with this. The problem is, with everything, that I don't have enough space, at least not enough surface space. Sometime I gotta get myself my own apartment and fill it up with all of my random little things I love instead of squirreling them away. Bah.
I will post a roundup from Snow Trip whenever I get more pictures. I totally did not take any. Besides, all the pictures we have so far include about 584930 cans of beer in them. What's that about living simply and intentionally...?
And on a petty house-decorating note, I really really want to have some kind of whimsies tray like this one. (Minus the Q-tips I guess.) I actually found and saved a few little whimsies when I went through all my old stuff in the garage at my parents' house. I would like to do something with this. The problem is, with everything, that I don't have enough space, at least not enough surface space. Sometime I gotta get myself my own apartment and fill it up with all of my random little things I love instead of squirreling them away. Bah.
I will post a roundup from Snow Trip whenever I get more pictures. I totally did not take any. Besides, all the pictures we have so far include about 584930 cans of beer in them. What's that about living simply and intentionally...?
3191 Evenings
The Ones We Love
I discovered The Ones We Love through one of my many designy/homey/photo-y blogs, which sadly I don't post about very often. (They are all so good, though.) This is a nice photo project. I wish, I wish I had more time to be artistic and take things slowly. I always feel like I am running around just trying to catch up, even already at this point in the year.
This was the first "Ones We Love" series I clicked on and I think I like it just because I want to look like this girl. I love the fourth one from the left. Kind of looks like a modern hipster fairytale or something.
I also like Ada Augustyniak and Peter Baker. And Andreea Bora, who is only 18! And the middle photo of Ali Bosworth's, which makes me think of Anne of Green Gables. (I have red hair envy.)
I haven't gone through all of them. I'm not that free or lazy at work.
This was the first "Ones We Love" series I clicked on and I think I like it just because I want to look like this girl. I love the fourth one from the left. Kind of looks like a modern hipster fairytale or something.
I also like Ada Augustyniak and Peter Baker. And Andreea Bora, who is only 18! And the middle photo of Ali Bosworth's, which makes me think of Anne of Green Gables. (I have red hair envy.)
I haven't gone through all of them. I'm not that free or lazy at work.
My company
Google named #1 company to work for by Fortune magazine for the second year in a row.
All I have to say is, at one point this video features my building's receptionist. Plus the dinosaur.
Sigh. I'm having one of those days, so it's hard to really feel jazzed.
All I have to say is, at one point this video features my building's receptionist. Plus the dinosaur.
Sigh. I'm having one of those days, so it's hard to really feel jazzed.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Heath Ledger
Alright, so the Brad Renfro death last week was sad but not wholly shocking to me, but now Heath Ledger died too! Rachel pointed out that he is just a person and people die all the time but a) young people don't die all the time and b) celebrities don't die all the time, at least not young ones. I mean, I know everyone is kind of crossing their fingers whenever there is a new Britney headline but I did not expect this one. It makes me oddly sad, in that perverse way that deaths of people you don't know sometimes do, and in that way where I feel like a total tool because it is just another person and I shouldn't really care. (I also feel bad because my first response to this news when Rachel told me was "This is so the kind of thing that would happen to Jen Lindley!" Because it so is.) Plus, he's really young, only 28. Then it also makes me sad because I liked Heath & Michelle and was sad when they broke up, and also because I love that their daughter is named Matilda Rose and it makes me sad that she won't have her dad around. And then finally it makes me want to go home and watch 10 Things I Hate About You, because that was my introduction to Heath Ledger and I feel the need to pay some kind of obscure strange respect, which probably he would hate because I'm pretty sure he always regretted doing a teen flick. I should probably pay more proper homage and watch Brokeback Mountain. But that would just be sadder. Gah. I feel like a total idiot. Also, blogging sucks when you really are trying to say something.
Oscars
The Oscar nominations are out. I have seen all but one of the best picture nominees, which makes me really pissed I missed seeing Michael Clayton at the Red Vic a couple of weeks ago. Still, I have my personal preferences...
Best Picture -- this one is hard. I loved all of the movies I saw in this category. I think that "No Country" was probably the actual best one. But I loved Juno to pieces, and it's grown on me even more since I saw it the second time (waiting for it to come out at the Parkway now). I don't think it will win. Damn, ok, this is a hard category.
Best Actor -- I've only seen two of these and I gotta throw my vote behind Daniel Day-Lewis.
Best Actress -- Again, only seen two of them. Laura Linney was great in "The Savages," Ellen Page was great in "Juno." I think my vote is for Ellen Page, as sad as that makes me feel for Laura Linney, who I love.
Supporting categories I have only seen two of each -- Javier Bardem is my pick of those for actor, and Cate Blanchett for actress (though the little girl in Atonement was good).
Director, I'm torn between Reitman and the Coen brothers. Adapted screenplay, between Atonement and No Country. Original screenplay I'm going with Juno, but I totally loved Ratatouille (sure it will win for animated feature), and Lars & the Real Girl was good as well. Art direction (I can't believe I have an opinion on this!) I think I'm going with Sweeney Todd, and cinematography I'm for There Will Be Blood or No Country... they had a lot of similarities so it's so hard. I can't believe that Jonny Greenwood didn't get a nomination for the "There Will Be Blood" score. It really made the movie.
So there are my probably ill-informed summaries. I'm actually shocked, looking at this list, by how FEW of the nominees I've actually seen! I missed "American Gangster" and "Gone Baby Gone" and "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford," all of which I wanted to see, and I also missed "Easter Promises," which I guess I can get on DVD now. I totally missed that "Elizabeth: The Golden Age" even came out in the theater! Anyway, I guess I need to either download some things illegally, or just feel like an ignoramus come Oscar night... which... I don't know... how is that even going to happen with no writers? This is a bummer.
Best Picture -- this one is hard. I loved all of the movies I saw in this category. I think that "No Country" was probably the actual best one. But I loved Juno to pieces, and it's grown on me even more since I saw it the second time (waiting for it to come out at the Parkway now). I don't think it will win. Damn, ok, this is a hard category.
Best Actor -- I've only seen two of these and I gotta throw my vote behind Daniel Day-Lewis.
Best Actress -- Again, only seen two of them. Laura Linney was great in "The Savages," Ellen Page was great in "Juno." I think my vote is for Ellen Page, as sad as that makes me feel for Laura Linney, who I love.
Supporting categories I have only seen two of each -- Javier Bardem is my pick of those for actor, and Cate Blanchett for actress (though the little girl in Atonement was good).
Director, I'm torn between Reitman and the Coen brothers. Adapted screenplay, between Atonement and No Country. Original screenplay I'm going with Juno, but I totally loved Ratatouille (sure it will win for animated feature), and Lars & the Real Girl was good as well. Art direction (I can't believe I have an opinion on this!) I think I'm going with Sweeney Todd, and cinematography I'm for There Will Be Blood or No Country... they had a lot of similarities so it's so hard. I can't believe that Jonny Greenwood didn't get a nomination for the "There Will Be Blood" score. It really made the movie.
So there are my probably ill-informed summaries. I'm actually shocked, looking at this list, by how FEW of the nominees I've actually seen! I missed "American Gangster" and "Gone Baby Gone" and "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford," all of which I wanted to see, and I also missed "Easter Promises," which I guess I can get on DVD now. I totally missed that "Elizabeth: The Golden Age" even came out in the theater! Anyway, I guess I need to either download some things illegally, or just feel like an ignoramus come Oscar night... which... I don't know... how is that even going to happen with no writers? This is a bummer.
Roe v. Wade
Today is the 35th anniversary of Roe v. Wade. Today is also "Blog for Choice" day. I don't have any personal stories to tell (happy to say that), but I would like to add my voice to the crowd of people out there who are thankful that we still have the right to choose. And, who are prepared to do what it takes to preserve that right. I vote pro-choice. I don't think I need to state the reasons for it, I just believe it's important to say it.
(Update: Check out Jessica from Feministing's list of why she votes pro-choice -- and read the comments.)
(Update: Check out Jessica from Feministing's list of why she votes pro-choice -- and read the comments.)
Friday, January 18, 2008
Spork!
On another discovering-my-neighborhood note, I went to spork for dinner last night. I don't know why, but I was in the mood for tasty American cooking and I was not disappointed. I got a steak, which was fantastic, really, and I rarely get steak but every so often I just have to. This one was almost brisket-y, really juicy & tender in the middle but with a spice-rubbed crisp outside and a horseradish sauce. Of course it came with some haricots verts and mashed potatoes. Dan got mussels & pork (with a spork!), which was like eight pounds of melty meat in what I hear was a very spicy sauce. I did taste it and the mussels were huge and kind of amazing. That and a glass of wine and it was a perfect dinner. Also, the decor is really great too -- a few reused things, naked light bulbs, big wall art that wasn't overbearing or pretentious or cluttering, and a general upscale almost-dinery almost-pop-arty feel. Just a friendly plug!
(Pictures of us with sporks forthcoming when I get them from Sara.)
(Pictures of us with sporks forthcoming when I get them from Sara.)
The Knockout
I went to this bar twice in the last week and I think I love it. I feel like I haven't discovered as many of the restaurants and bars and venues in the city despite living there for half a year, but the Knockout (Yeah, I know everyone else knows about it already, but whatever) is pretty damn sweet. Why? Well last week was the aforementioned doo-wop oldies night, which was great. Then last night, we went there for BINGO! Seriously, you wouldn't think this was a good idea but apparently my generation likes to do things that old people do (bocce, shuffleboard, bingo, puzzles, I shit you not, these are all popular pastimes) and it was a damn good time. The only sad thing was that none of our huge group won a single bingo round. Guess that means we'll have to go back. All the bingo cards had the name of a mortuary in Berkeley on them for some reason, and you got a bingo with every drink you bought. I guess the other downside besides the not winning is that wanting to win bingo means you drink more, but I only had two drinks during the bingo round. Other great things about this bar: they had a root beer float cocktail. Yes, this is ridiculous and I probably will never have it again because it probably has about 900 grams of sugar in it, but I had to try it once and it was delicious, made from root beer, vanilla vodka and creme liqueur. Tasty, indeed. Anyway, after bingo was "WORST MUSIC EVER," which, by the way, was "BEST MUSIC EVER." I knew the words to literally every song, because it was basically a rundown of all these overplayed hits from the 80s on to today. Let me think: From a Distance, We Didn't Start the Fire, We Built This City, Two Princes, Summer of 69, I'm Just a Girl, Blame it on the Rain, etc. etc. Crossing genres and blowing my mind. I pretty much could have stayed there all night since it's pretty much my idea of a good time. Sometimes bad music is better than good music, like after you played bingo and when you are out with like 10 of your friends on a Thursday. Hurrah. I can't wait for the next Worst Music Ever night. Or for bingo. Bingo!!
They're TEXTING
I've been trying to tell this story for ages. I had typed a text message in my phone, and, you know the automatic word setting? T9 or whatever? I typed something in and it gave me the word "rape" as the FIRST word choice. Like, the most "popular" word out of those four letter buttons. I found that really shocking but couldn't recreate it. I tried typing out the word and realized that really there aren't other words you can make out of those letters, except "rare," which, ha, I think is less rare than "rape." Or at least, it should be the first suggestion since I feel like not a lot of texters are casually talking about sexual assault. Anyway, I realized yesterday that this story I've been telling and trying to recreate forever is not actually the way it happened. ACTUALLY, I was trying to type "plate" and the first suggestion is "slave." Seriously?? This disturbs me. And yet when I want to type the word "shit" I have to switch to the regular ABC setting.
The trials and tribulations of the text-messaging bourgeoisie.
The trials and tribulations of the text-messaging bourgeoisie.
Actually terrified:
Microsoft applies for a patent "that can track a worker’s productivity, physical wellbeing and competence."
Owl Collectors
See, I'm not the only one.
I just need to do my organizational thang and clear out all the crap filling up my house and put my little guys on display. I have at least 15, all different and from different people and places. I love owls everywhere, but I especially love them in figurine form. They are best that way.
I just need to do my organizational thang and clear out all the crap filling up my house and put my little guys on display. I have at least 15, all different and from different people and places. I love owls everywhere, but I especially love them in figurine form. They are best that way.
side note
By the way, how much can I not wait to get done with this week of work and do some blogging again? A LOT.
Manila Envelopes are so hot right now
Yeah, I guess like everyone else I wouldn't mind owning a MacBook Air, but I'm honestly still getting used to the sleekness of my MacBook Pro for work, and trying to figure out how to reformat my iPod for it. (I'm an idiot.) But, I do want this:
It's a felt "manila envelope" for the MacBook Air. Lined with fleece. How cute is that!
(via)
It's a felt "manila envelope" for the MacBook Air. Lined with fleece. How cute is that!(via)
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