The Special People Club

Christmas memories, vol. 20

2009-12-02T16:19:00.003-06:00

It's that time of year again. Time for you to learn more about how I ended up this way, how I've spent my Christmases lo, these last forty-odd years. This year I expect we'll have some sad ones - it's my first year with both my parents gone, and it's bound to make me kind of melancholy. Heck, I just started crying by the flatbread at Whole Foods because I used to buy it and bring it to my mom as a treat. But the thing is, the reason I miss my folks so much is because my life is filled with happy memories. They were people worth missing.

I'm sitting in public right now, so I think we'll start off with something kind of innocuous. Public tearing-up garners worried glances, and I don't want to stress out that nice man at the next table who's selling Comcast subscriptions to unsuspecting callers who think he's in an office somewhere. (SECOND time I've see one of these guys out in a public place - last time it was in the waiting room at the tire place.)

If you know anything at all about me, you know I am an eater. A savorer of food. An explorer of interesting treats and new deliverers of deliciousness. (You can also tell this about me by looking at my picture, but that is another issue.) I come by this honestly. My people, they're eaters...both my biological and chosen families can strap on a feedbag like no one else, and from roughly November 15 - January 1st most folks I know practically draw maps of the treats they intend to enjoy before the austere deadline of the New Year makes them look like gluttons. Here are some of my favorites, and the logic behind them.

Pillow and ribbon candy - Back in the days of contractor gift showers, we almost always got a fancy box of candy from Harry and David, The Vermont Country Store, The Swiss Colony or some other purveyor of fine mail-order food items. Although they're really just hard suckable sweets, somehow they seemed to have weird Christmasy powers and an added sweet deliciousness that spoke of the holiday and all its promise. Plus, they were hard but kind of soft, too, and if you gave them a little time in your mouth they were chewable, almost like taffy. Which is another tasty holiday treat, that peppermint taffy stuff.

Oranges stuffed with cloves - Wait a second, Mindy, you say. They're not food, they're decorative scented balls of love that children all over the world have created for their parents in second grade. Well, I'm not your every day genius, I'll tell you. Oranges are food. Cloves go in food. Ergo, they are edible. They do not TASTE good, mind you, but my eight year old self had high hopes for them. (This is perhaps the same year I licked the spoon that I thought was covered in hamburger casserole residue but was actually covered in Alpo remnants.)

Mulled wine - I was not a drinker of the mulled wine until I moved to England, but I am now firmly sold on its fine fine warming properties and spicy goodness. I had my first mulled wine at a lovely pub called Ye Olde Swan with my friend Mel, shortly after my move to the UK. Who knew cheap red wine could have such body and depth? I was immediately hooked, and I used to keep a bottle of M&S mulled wine in the cupboard for emergencies. (I preferred to mull my own if I had time, usually with a Tesco's Finest red and Penzey's mulling spices.) It has become my Christmas go-to drink for festive tree-gazing and fire-sitting. And the stuff they served us in boots at the Christkindlmarket in Daley Plaza wasn't half bad, either.

Mince pies - Another treat revelation from my time in the UK. Before I moved to England, a mince pie was an 8-inch pie full of raisins and nuts and cherries and brandy stewed with traditional spices, that got the skunk-eye from children and a bit of drool from my Dad, and that always inspired conversations about whether there was meat in the mix. Post-England, I think of them as personal little parcels of Christmas, with sweet flaky shortbread crusts and crystals of glistening sugar on their little lattice crusts. They are tiny - two, maybe three bites per pie, and they're even better when they come free after your meal at a country pub. Or straight from the box to the oven from M&S. That works, too.

Eggnogg Lattes - My first year in Seattle, Tom flew up for Thanksgiving. We needed to pick up a few things at Safeway, so we headed out into the not-cold Seattle weather. We tried to dance the steps on Broadway (which are completely inaccurate and hard to use, FYI,) got the items we needed, and decided that, on accounta we were in Seattle and were obligated to at least one latte a day, we had to stop for coffee. So we found a little street cart, another novelty to our Midwestern sensibilities, and saw the little hand-printed sign that said eggnog lattes had arrived. Hmm, thought we. That sounds gross, but oddly delicious. Let's try it. And we did. YUM. I now allow myself one eggnog latte per season, usually on a day when I can't stand the thought of Christmas and feel like just sleeping my way to January - it always picks me up, gives me visions of sugar plums, and reminds me how lucky I am to have Tom in my life.

The Swiss Colony Cheese Food Spread - Sometime during one of our epic shopping trips, Mom would make a stop at The Swiss Colony stand in one of the malls. She would stock up on cheese spreads to serve on crackers on Christmas Eve. As an adult, I understand that these can hardly be called cheese nor are they any sort of gourmet treat, but the five year old in me thinks they are the finest of cheese and the height of sophistication. Especially if they come in a crock, and are served with a Beef Log.

Michelle's Toffee - Seriously, my sister-in-law makes the best homemade toffee on the planet.

And finally, the latest addition to the secret joys of Christmas eating - Chocolate Covered Peppermint Joe Joes. I was skimming the Trader Joe's flyer last year to see what was new or recommended for the holidays, and they made mention of these delightful little oreo-like cookies with peppermint candy in the filling and a thick layer of dark chocolate coating as though they'd just created a fire wheel that could slice bread. I thought, "Hmm. Sounds fine, but seriously. How good can they be?" So I spent some of my precious last dollars on a little tube of cookies. (Last December was a bleak bleak month for my finances.) Well, I ate my words. And the cookies. Boy howdy, these things are pure Nirvana as far as the packaged cookie goes, kicking chocolate gingerbread and pfefferneuses' sorry asses right out of the park. The kid at Trader Joes says that people actually buy these things up at the end of the holidays and sell them on ebay for $10 - $20 profit per box. Perhaps this will become my new cottage industry. Who needs a job when you know the secret of the Joe Joe?

Plate o' shrimp, vol 8

2009-06-17T10:55:00.004-05:00

The 2 millionth Eagle Scout

The world's most famous Senior Wilderness Guide

Sometimes life does imitate art. Squirrel!

This week's revelations, vol 2

2009-06-07T22:23:00.003-05:00

I cannot tell you how much I wanted to buy this.

This week's revelations, vol 1.

2009-06-07T22:21:00.002-05:00

And next time he's taking the bathrobe.

Hey you. Straighten up.

2009-05-31T21:41:00.004-05:00

I live by a code - a clearly defined set of policies that specifies which personal behaviors are acceptable, which are rude, which are annoying and which ones are deal breakers. I've been like this for some time now - in fact, sometimes I wonder how I got this way, because it's not actually normal. And, since I sometimes come off as a bohemian lefty what with my flyaway hair and funked up trendy style, people are often taken aback by my standards. They expect this sort of judgment to come with a string of pearls and a twin set.

The good thing about policies is that they give me a very specific prism through which to analyze the world. For example: my policies protect me from people who only have friends from the present stage of their lives - they are not to be trusted with your heart, ever, because you're only as good as what you can do for them right now. My policies tell me that hoarders are trouble any way you slice it - not only is hoarding likely a symptom of some big dark psychological monster lurking in the shadows, even in the best case scenario you'll eventually end up cleaning up after them, and that will really suck. (You can only imagine how I feel about people who don't clean their bathrooms.)

I follow my own rules and policies, so it's really easy to trick myself into doing things. For example, I believe that cheating is always bad. Always. So, let's say I don't want to finish folding my laundry...left to my own devices, I'll just stack it on my cedar chest for a week or two and slowly wear my rumpled clothes. However, since I'm watching a Cubs game where the score is 8-2 in the middle of the 9th, I can make a bet with myself that if the Dodgers win I have to fold my laundry immediately. Chances are I'll soon be folding my clothes because to leave them in a heap would now be cheating. Stupid? Yes. But you'd be amazed at the things I've made myself do just because I was playing some game of chance with myself.

My policies help me set priorities, make me socially savvy and help me get more from my interaction with the world. And they make me more open to other opinions and ideas, too, because there aren't actually that many of them when you get right down to it. Policies only apply to things that are of extreme importance to me...most other things are open to discussion and I'll give a wide berth to all manners of eccentricities and behaviors. (Plus, there is the over-riding policy that, in general, fighting and grudge holding should be reserved as a final option, so I generally give people a lot of rope before I tighten any nooses.) Of course, our world is yin and yang, so there's a dark side to having policies, too. And here's mine: because policies are reserved for things that are really really important to me I have a hairpin trigger where policy violations are concerned, and in the past few months I've found myself completely tweaked off by strangers violating one of my deeply entrenched policies - and when I say tweaked, I mean really, really pissed off.

The policy in question: You, as a person, are 100% responsible for politely interacting with others, and part of this entails responsibly taking up appropriate space in the world without thoughtlessly imposing on others. Violation of this policy will get you a serious verbal reprimand, usually with place-putting precision to be sure there is no ambiguity that an offense was committed.

Violation No 1: I believe you may have heard me bitching about mommies and their baby barges? It's a public walkway, not your personal parking spot. Or your private classroom to teach skills your toddler can't comprehend and won't use for another 15 years. Or a virtual phone booth for you to stand and have your pointless conversation about what to have for dinner. Move over, Babyweight.

Violation No. 2: Parking spots are first come first served. Or, more precisely, first CAR, first served. There is no such thing as saving a parking space. You do not, ever, get out of a car and run into a space on the opposite side of the street and stand there to save it while your driver goes another block or two to turn around and come back at it. You do not, ever, go downstairs when your friends call you from the Kennedy to tell you they're at the Irving Park exit and stand in a space to hold it while they are stuck in Cubs traffic. Holding parking spots is not like holding movie theater seats while a friend gets popcorn. It's like queue jumping at Ikea on a Saturday afternoon. You deserve to be trampled by angry Swedes.

Violation No. 3: While cars do not interact with their surroundings once parked, going to a movie is generally something you do with friends, and therefore it is reasonable to want to sit with the people you came with. However, if you know a theater is going to be crowded it is unbelievably rude to sit your group down with one seat on either side of you. This means that later, when a couple comes in and looks for seats, they are going to have to split up and bookend you and your lazyass friends. Is it that difficult to pay attention and move your group over a seat to give people a chance to sit together? Or do you just like being a complete tit?

Violation No. 4: I realize you are on your front porch and should be able to have any conversation you wish. But must you shout into your phone? It's making me uncomfortable, because in the time it takes my dog and I to walk from first to last earshot of you I learn that you have a yeast infection, your friends don't like your boyfriend, and you don't like having sex with the cat looking at you. This is not information I needed about you. You're a stranger.

Violation No. 5: Back to the seat saving thing. Let's say you have a large group coming to a concert/movie, etc. with open seating. Sit someplace that obviously has room for all of you, and make sure you save that space if you want to sit together. Don't go sit someplace that has almost enough space and then try to cram your late arrivals in next to the people that got there before you, because now the early birds have to be considerate and try to accommodate you, but in doing so they will get stuck with bad seats that have obstructed views and no access to the aisle. This is all your fault, and it serves you right if the old lady in front of you has smelly silent acid farts all the way through the program.

I'm giving you notice. Stop this behavior immediately, or it is completely within my rights to start enforcing. And it will NOT be pretty. According to the policy, all bets are off.

And FYI, the Cubs lost. This draft was saved mid-way, and my laundry is now put away.

Always on the edge of controversy

2009-05-31T11:08:00.004-05:00

Susan Boyle didn't win Britain's Got Talent, but predictions are that she's going to be a worldwide mega-star and make millions of dollars. Maybe, maybe not. Personally, I think she's a singing Rubik's cube, or possibly more of a Chia pet that can carry a tune.

I'm not suggesting for a second that she isn't talented...on the contrary, she has a lovely voice and a story that underdog-lovers and people tired of picture-perfect-looks as a requirement for fame eat up like it's candy. But I just don't see that her pretty voice alone is going to make her a mega-star. There is no one like her out there making records, and it's not because she is such a unique talent but more because there isn't a big market for her style of singing. Opera people want real opera. Pop people want pop music with a bit more rhythm and a trendy style. Easy listening people have Barry Manilow and greatest hits albums from Paul Simon. Showtunes folks have original cast albums. Rockers wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole.

But then again, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Andrea Bocelli and Josh Groban fans need a female voice in their collection. In which case, Susan Boyle is mere moments away from riches the world has never known.

Making temping more charming

2009-05-31T10:11:00.002-05:00

I'm amending the post below with italics so I can get my frustrations out before I go to work tomorrow. I figure if I can tell someone (you) what I think should be done differently, then it will be easier to let it go and just enter the dang data like a good drone.

Oh, the charms of temping

2009-05-30T13:24:00.005-05:00

Let me preface this post by saying that I am really pleased to finally have a temp job. I am getting closer to an actual job, as well, but in the meantime I'm really happy to have income again. But I'd forgotten how truly ridiculous temping can be. Here's what I walked into:

- I'm doing data entry at an insurance company, though our actual client is a law firm I think. We're bar coding every file in the history of the company so they can find the relevant hard copy should it be required to defend them in a lawsuit. Data entry itself is never interesting. But that's part of temping...the work is SELDOM interesting...and so it is what it is and I'm fine with that.
- I was told that the company is business casual but that I should dress closer to business since it was my first day. In reality, we are not working in the main offices and all 30 temps AND the supervisors were in jeans, sweats, and other casual clothing. But I looked nice in my trouser suit. This job is not pleasant, and I think my temp agency knew it was not pleasant. Therefore hiding this fact by disguising the dress code doesn't help. Better to prepare me for what I'm walking in to. In some ways, being told you're going to work in a casual environment is a selling point for a temp job.
- The reason for the casual attire is that we are digging through files in various states of decay. Some are just dusty and full of residue from the carbon copies (or worse, the carbon-less copies) of forms in the files. My lovely trouser suit now needs dry cleaning. This was the more important detail for full disclosure in advance of me confirming that I'll take the position. I'm sure they left out this information because they feared people would turn the positions down and they really needed to fill them...a valid concern. However, they were assuming that the fact that this job is a manky, dusty mess would generate automatic refusals, and that is not necessarily true. It's just as likely people would view it as a challenge and dive right in...and if they really were turned off and unwilling to take this on then they would say "no" upfront, never be introduced to the client, and the agency could be sure they're sending in people who will stick with it, thus preserving their credibility. Of course, they did NOT share the details of the work, and now I have a security pass, a dry cleaning bill and I feel completely duped. I'll be switching temp agencies as soon as I can, partly because the one I'm currently working with will blacklist me if I cut out of this assignment early, and partly because I now don't trust my employers.
- Luckily, they have gloves and breathing masks available if the crap gets to you. I will look like a dork as the only one wearing them, but my allergies and asthma require it if I'm going to stick with this.
- The room is set up with boxes around the perimeter and folding tables and plastic study hall chairs at the work stations. As part of my orientation my supervisor said that she knows the chairs are horribly uncomfortable so there's no need to complain to her. She doesn't want to hear it and it won't help because she won't get us something else. (Screw you, OSHA!) You'd think a lawyer who's acting as the project manager would know enough not to say something like this, what since it exposes them to all sorts of legal issues. In the strictest sense, the employer should realize they're breaking every ergonomic work standard in the book and be making an effort to change this, rather than keeping the end client's cost low by compromising the workspace health standards for their employees. As far as I'm concerned, this is an absolute and a huge error in judgment. That said, if they really ARE going to intentionally allow this sort of work environment, they should at least make employees feel they can bring up concerns and that they will try to help if they do...most people will look the other way anyway so they won't have to do a thing.
- On the upside, we have windows. Of course, we don't have access to water coolers, office coffee, vending machines, refrigerators or microwaves...but there are restrooms so at least that's something. A small fridge and a microwave for the duration of the project cost less than one week of my time. If they don't want to advocate for access to the main kitchen for the temp workers, then it wouldn't be that hard to set up a makeshift one temporarily. Heck, even just a fridge and a water cooler would be enough.
- So what am I doing with my MBA you ask? Well, I get a box of files. I go through each folder or document, find the policy number and type it into Lotus Notes to print a label. I stick the labels on the folders (which means I create folders for the loose papers,) and then I put a shipping label on the box and stack it in another corner. Repeat. Not interesting, but in itself not criminal.
- I do this from 830 - 530 every day. We do get breaks...there are mandatory 15 minute breaks from 1015 - 1045 (teams are divided into two groups and take turns,) a mandatory unpaid lunch from 1230 - 130, and another round of 15 minute breaks in shifts from 315 - 345. These times are when we are allowed to use the restroom, unless of course we have an emergency and ask a supervisor. And there is no deviation...don't even think about asking to work through your lunch to leave an hour early for an appointment, or to take your break in the other group's 15 minutes of rest. I mean, we have standards and rules, people. Every one of the people working on this project are paralegals, lawyers or other professionals. Having rules that can be bent when necessary should be completely allowed. There is no real benefit to this military precision, unless creating a sweatshop environment is helping the project.
- The upside of this is that with all the saved podcasts on my iPod, I should have plenty of time to get caught up on my Manager Tools. Of course, iPods, radios or other distractions are not allowed. Ditto for internet access or excessive chatting, because we need to concentrate. See my point above...this would be a simple way to improve employee morale, and the likelihood of it affecting our work is slim considering the backgrounds of the workers.
- They frown upon requests for time off or absences for interviews and other things that might indicate you aren't dedicated to three straight months of this. Don't be ridiculous. Of COURSE no one is dedicated to three months of this. Personally, if I were the project manager I'd lay the expectation with the temp agency that we expect the employees to be there, but that requests for absences would be allowed within reason with prior notice. The temp agency could then establish rules/timelines of notification, etc. for absences to keep things under control, which would give them recourse if a temp abused their good will. This would actually encourage a lot of people to really commit to this...it would be guaranteed work for the summer, at a reasonable wage with flexibility for an afternoon off now and again when you need to go on an interview. So what if the work is messy and a bit dull...at least you have money coming in and can still keep your job search going. For someone like me, that kind of policy would make this job go from necessary evil to opportunity.
- And did I mention that most of the 30 other temps in the room are lawyers and paralegals? If this group is any indication, it's the short guys, minorities and women that are getting laid off at the big firms. This is my problem. I mean, they can't help it that they're lawyers.

I'm glad I had one Friday to work and now I've got the weekend to prepare for next week. I'll come in casual clothes with non-perishable food items to avoid an expensive purchased lunch, and a bottle of water so I don't have to buy it in the expensive store downstairs. A person's got to do what a person's got to do, after all, and I need the money so I'll do this. But fingers crossed Whole Foods or the Art Institute come through for work to get my by instead.

Life's downs and ups

2009-05-28T15:19:00.003-05:00

My long absence from this blog has mostly been driven by the circumstances of my life. My days have been looking pretty much the same for the past few months, and I just haven't felt like there was anything to say:

1. I get up at 8AM. There's nothing that pressing to do so I don't need to be up earlier, but if I sleep much later I feel like a complete loser. Plus on Mondays, it's important to call the temp agency to let them know you're looking for work.
2. I do some wake-up surfing for news and other info while watching a bit of cable TV. There's a constant cycle of Gilmore Girls on ABC Family at 10AM on weekdays, FYI, or if you prefer they repeat at 4PM. Of course, until just now they've been stopping at the end of the sixth season so I could never find out how it ends. Curse you, ABC Family!
3. On the days she works, I usually take Beth to work at 11 so I can use her car during the day. That kills an hour.
4. From approximately noon until 4PM everyday and sometimes stretching into the evening, I'm scouring job sites, Crain's, the FT and WSJ, LinkedIn, Vault and various company websites to figure out who might be hiring for what. I attempt to identify trends in business, look to see who I might know who can help me get a name or phone number at a potential employer, or am making phone calls and sending emails to contacts I've been lucky enough to find. I'm writing cover letters, tweaking my resume to fit a job description, submitting applications and following up on them, you name it.
5. When the oppressive frustration of constantly hearing people tell me I'm wonderful but they have an external hiring freeze on indefinitely, I have to get out of the house. Plus, by this time Cali is usually boring holes into me with her soulful pouty eyes...this means we both get a break by taking a walk. We have a standard 3.3 mile route through the neighborhood, and we're averaging an 18 minute mile as our leisurely pace.
6. Now it's time for a little MSNBC and dinner.
7. Two or three times a week, I go to yoga which means that there's a 50% chance any given day that I've discovered a new muscle that's crying like a newborn when I sit/stand/move.
8. I fill evenings with television, more internet time or a good book.
9. And when Beth is working, we (Cali and I) leave mid-way through Letterman to go pick her up. My mother would be furious to know that I sit in the car and read by streetlights at midnight while I wait for Beth to escape the ER.
10. I've also added some volunteer work here and there, but not nearly as much as I should with this amount of time on my hand.
11. Social occasions are few and far between, not for lack of invitations but mostly because I worry about every penny I spend.

See? Not that much to blog about. And while I certainly could be using my spare time more productively to be researching new things and writing and trying out things I've always wanted to, my routine seems to have taken over and I haven't been as productive with this as I could be, either.

The good news is that things are finally picking up on the job front. I have a temp job as of tomorrow AM...a good sign for the employment market since there haven't really BEEN temp jobs since the new year. I've got several promising conversations going with potential long-term employers, and while I am not in an offer-pending scenario yet, I am getting good responses to my resume and there are indications that by the end of the summer I will be. I really do think that my gap year is coming to an end, and I will kind of miss it when it does.

I will say I've learned a LOT about being unemployed, and since many of you have not actually faced this in your mature adult lives I'm going to give you some hints for interacting with your unemployed friends and loved ones.

1. It is depressing and self-esteem deflating not to work. Even your most confident friends will be having self doubt and some unnatural sadness when they have been without work for awhile. (Unless, of course, their lack of work is by choice. Those people are REALLY happy.) So keep in mind they may be more sensitive than usual.

2. It's still okay to sit and bitch about your job. To a point.

3. Even if you've been unemployed before, you have no idea how bad it is out there right now. The rules have changed, and things people used to do to get a job just don't work. And while your caring advice is well meant, your unemployed friend may not always see it that way.

Imagine you're installing a flat screen television with a blue-ray and surround sound theater system that hooks to a cable DVR box that connects to every tv in your house so you can watch recorded American Idol shows in the bedroom or the kitchen or the office. And even though you have done everything the diagram says and checked it three or four times, you just can't get the picture to pull up on the television. Now, imagine that your spouse comes home and, seeing you frustrated and at wit's end, asks you if you remembered to turn the tv on.

That's kind of how it feels when employed people who've never dealt with this negative-growth job market tell you what you should be doing to get a job. Even if they're right, you still want to slam a brick through their head. It's probably best to let your unemployed friend tell you what they're doing and where their frustrations are before you tell them your sage pearls of job-seeking wisdom. This also shows that you have enough respect for them that you assume they are doing a good job in their search, which is better than reinforcing the idea that they suck (see no. 1) and that you are some benevolent savior condescending to help them.

4. Unemployed people need to not spend money, but they also need to get out of the house and have a normal life with social plans and a bit of fun. Obviously it's their responsibility to manage this, but it helps if when planning things you suggest low-cost or free activities so they don't have to point out their lack of income every time you get together. And while it's nice of you to offer to pay for a splurge if you have the income and want to do it, a) you certainly do not have to do this, and b) if you do it too often it's a little humiliating for the receiver because it makes them feel like a leech. This is not to say that I don't appreciate each and every drink, dinner or movie that someone has covered for me in the last 8 months...my friends rock, because most of them seem to know instinctively where the line is...in fact, some of these $5 movies and $10 curries are the best gifts I've ever gotten because they've made me feel normal in a time of abnormality.

Oh. And if you're splitting a check and you notice your unemployed friend skipped appetizers and cocktails and dessert, then they are on a budget and you'll get huge thoughtfulness points by being the one to say, "Hey, we had way more than XXX so he/she should owe a little less than the rest of us." It may be they'll say not to worry about it and you can revert to the normal check division, or they may secretly thank God for you and your kindness.

5. Networking for jobs is a pain in the ass and, frankly, it's exhausting. If you know someone who is unemployed, one of the nicest things you can do for them is to think about who you know that might be able to help them and to volunteer their contact details if they'd like to speak with them. As per no. 3, though, offering the contact if they want it is not the same thing as telling them they have to call the person.

This all probably seems like common sense to most of you, but you'd be amazed at the number of people who have no clue. In fact, I'm sure I didn't back before I was unemployed...I've never not had a job when I wanted one, and I can be really self-focused even if I don't mean to be - I guarantee you I have inadvertently steamrolled people and made them feel like crap. Man, I wish I could undo that. But at least I know now.

So now it's onward and upward. I don't think I've seen this Gilmore Girls episode and I've got yoga in a little over an hour. It's the last day of my routine, after all. I need to make the most of it.

Empathize this

2009-05-26T16:33:00.003-05:00

I've got two things on my mind today.

First off, I really like Sonja Sotomayor. And I especially like that when discussing his selection criteria for Justice Souter's replacement, President Obama brought up empathy.

Empathy is not the same thing as sympathy, compassion or emotion. Empathy is perspective. The idea that our laws have strict, specific definitions that should be considered without perspective is ridiculous. Laws mean something, but they must also be considered in context. That isn't to say they should be applied arbitrarily, or to advocate making exceptions left and right to suit a judge's whim...suggesting laws should be considered in context simply means that the courts must consider how our laws should be interpreted, and how they can make our society a better, more habitable, more functional one. How they can help Americans live their lives without impediment to their personal liberties. Empathy provides the perspective necessary to do this.

Judge Sotomayor is honest about her personal history and how it informs her perspective. We're kidding ourselves if we think that somehow strict constitutionalists are without bias. Everyone has a bias, and you're a fool if you trust someone who claims they don't. Godspeed, Judge Sotomayor.

Now, On to my second issue.

I have a thing or two to say about the Prop 8 decision. I'm pleased that the union of my dear CP and PG has remained intact. Back in October when we did this whole whirlwind wedding to beat the election, it seemed crazy that a week could make the difference in the legality of their marriage. Turns out it wasn't crazy at all.

So here's the thing. For the life of me, I just don't understand what the big problem is with same-sex marriages. I don't understand why two people of opposite gender in a partnership are more valid, more important and more deserving of privileges than two of the same gender. I don't understand why a relationship I have can be recognized as a valid union, but Tom and George's shouldn't be.

I've heard people say they oppose same-sex marriage because they don't like the idea of homosexuality. They say the idea of two men or two women together sexually is repugnant to them. For a second, let's just say their opinion of someone else's sex life is relevant and not just creepy. I didn't realize that the point of legal marriage was to validate or endorse the sex happening in the relationship. Does that mean that ugly people shouldn't be allowed to marry because someone might find their sex distasteful? Don't be ridiculous.

Others will say that God says homosexuality is a sin, so our government shouldn't recognize it. I'd ask them to show me exactly where God says this, but I know they'll drag out that Old Testament law and then we'll have to start banning polyester blends and shellfish and it will get us off track. Instead (separation of church and state aside,) I'll just ask....Really? Then I'll also assume you are for fining and jailing people who take the name of the Lord their God in vain, making it illegal to forget Mother's or Father's Day, or for punishing the people whose covetous behavior has put them into thousands of dollars in credit card debt, or who have taken out mortgages that they couldn't afford just because they really wanted a nice house like everyone else. I mean, these are actual commandments, people. If we're going to base our legal system and privileges on God's word, let's at least cover the Big Ten first.

Then there's the argument that keeping the definition of marriage limited to a man and a woman protects the family, the sanctity of marriage and makes our society a better place. I think what they're getting at is that marriages establish stable homes, encourage positive economic activity, build communities and connections, and create a nurturing atmosphere for both the children of a union and the parents who created it. I'll certainly agree that marriage does all of this. But I need some facts to prove that same-sex couples don't do this, too, because my experience of them indicates the opposite. (Do you also need me to cite divorce statistics and Britney Spears to debunk this myth? I didn't think so.)

As to the people who claim same-sex marriage opens the door to polygamy and bestial marriage, well, you're morons and I think you know it.

I understand that for a lot of people, homosexuality is foreign; it's not something they are entirely comfortable with, and until relatively recently they didn't even have to acknowledge it existed. I realize that this is difficult for them, and that before they decide if they agree with same-sex marriage, they'd like some time to just get used to knowing about the same-sex couples who've been living amongst them. I empathize with their struggle. In fact, I'll go so far as to say I sympathize with the trouble they're having getting used to this...I mean, I don't agree with them on this issue, but it does really suck when the world throws a set of rules at you that are completely different than your norm, and I know that they don't mean to be bigoted - they just want some time.

But here's the thing. Their discomfort with change is not a reason to withhold rights from other citizens so they can take their time getting used to things.

Legal marriage is about civil rights, plain and simple. Our government allows married couples to choose the most advantageous tax filing status, shorthands dozens of legal privileges that would take thousands of dollars and reams of paperwork to finalize without the marriage license, and bestows legitimization to the partnerships and families that couples form. To suggest that only some of our citizens should have access to these rights is pretty unfair. In fact, it's downright un-American. Even Iowa, a state full of traditional values and AARP memberships, gets this, and has done something tangible to change it. If they can do it, so can everyone else.

I mean, come on California. It's going to seem pretty ridiculous when the gay children of Los Angeles and San Francisco dream of the day that they're old enough to flee the small-mindedness of their childhood home for the more accepting, gay-friendly pastures of Des Moines.

Get with the program.

Not dead

2009-05-21T22:10:00.003-05:00

Hi Tim. I know I owe you a phone call. I was over at my friend John's for dinner and some Wii when you called the other night and so I thought I shouldn't actually talk too long. Figured I can do this rather than email, since everyone else has given up on me. I'll write a newsy post soon. And maybe I'll catch you on the phone over the weekend?

Sinus infections suck, and the jury's out on online dating

2009-04-05T22:21:00.002-05:00

I've been felled by a sinus infection. Pleh. I should have known I would be afflicted...my mom was sick when I was home a few weeks ago and Bethany had it the week before I left. It was only a matter of time until it took me down.

It's been a miserable week to be me. Head stuffy. Glands swollen. Neck not turning. Headache. Fever. Lots of drowsiness. Yuck.

And because I am a moron, I decided that while I was in the throes of this mucus-y hell I should take another stab at online dating, so I registered a profile on chemistry.com. I hate these things and I don't know why I do it. Maybe I was just planning ahead for the next time I get sick, hoping to have someone on deck to make me soup and read me books and bring me cups of tea. In any case, I've filled out a profile and now people are being told they should meet me.

So far, no bites. I used the picture to the left..even though it's not technically "recent," it still looks like me. I elected to call myself "curvy," because it seemed more neutral than "big and beautiful," a term that annoys me anyway. I took the personality test, which states that I am a Director/Explorer - the site matches me with same, or with Negotiator and Builder combinations of Explorer, too.

I had to write a 2000 character personal essay and I had no idea what to say. I thought about asking a few male friends to do it for me, what since they probably have a better idea of what men might actually need to know about me, but that seemed like a cop-out plus it would force them to say something nice and I didn't want to put them on the spot. Instead, I wrote key facts about me that I believe a potential date should know...I am opinionated, I have a head-thrown-back booming laugh, occasionally punctuated with a snort, and men who like quiet women probably won't like me. I got ordained on the internet so I could marry CP to PG. Most days, I wear french perfume but not much makeup. Ambition is sexy but pompous doodieheads will be sorely ridiculed. I like men with hobbies and friends and who are close to their families. My people are eaters, and not picky ones, either. I am not a morning person and I am a very good speller.

I wonder why there aren't any takers yet? I think I sound HOT.

Back in Chicago

2009-03-25T16:30:00.002-05:00

I'm back after a brief hiatus in Iowa. I hadn't seen my mom since Christmas and I missed her, so I hopped on Amtrak last Wednesday and spent a long weekend with her.

Amtrak is funny once you leave the east coast. It's the strangest mix of people...students, hippies, people going short distances, people afraid to fly, and a bunch of Amish. It's actually quite comfortable for the short trip home, and it gave me an excuse to eat strange snack foods like the cheese and cracker thing I bought at the Kwik Trip in Caledonia on the way to the station Monday morning. (Note to self - go to the co-op the day before you leave Decorah and get something healthier.)

I also got a lot of reading done. I finished The Omnivore's Dilemma, and I confess I really enjoyed it. I am more convinced now than ever that vegetarianism isn't the only ethical diet, but am now checking for grass-fed animals and finding local producers, because it just seems that this is the best way to eat. It made me extremely sensitive to the giant loads of corn in my diet and now I'm bird-dogging for all those hidden corn products in processed food and trying to limit my intake. I'm also on a tear about gum arabic, what since I'm not keen on Saudi Arabia and don't want my money going to them just because in a moment of weakness I have a hankering for some chocolate. (This is not mentioned in TOD, but instead is just a food-related obsession that seems tangentially related to the corn squeezin's thing.)

My next book was Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri. I loved this book. It's a collection of short stories examining love, family obligation, relationships and the tensions and triumphs inherent in acclimating to a foreign environment. I've always loved Lahiri's work. I think her characters are beautifully subtle and complex, and she's adept and pulling intense emotions out of simple things. With this book, I found that it especially resonated with me, maybe because I've just moved to a new place, maybe because of my expat experience or maybe because of all this plus the fact that I read it on a trip to my mom's. Who knows. But I do a lot of thinking about the fork my life just took, and how I will be different now that I'm back here in the US from what I might have been had I stayed abroad and built my home in the UK. In UE, Lahiri masterfully illustrates the things I feel...when you've left your homeland and built a life somewhere else, the new place becomes as much a part of you as your original home. You develop a hybridized identity, and "home" becomes less of an external thing and more about living an honest, happy life. I think the New York Times' review said home was where you were able to truly be yourself, and that is exactly it. I'm not taking the time to write a well-thought-out review that makes sense, but suffice it to say I highly recommend this book.

I had a great time with my mom. We basically hung out, went to dinner, played Scrabble. Nothing exciting. But my mom is always good company and I needed a break from the endless days of job searching and it was an excellent way to spend my weekend. And now I'm back, and I'm starting to make little inroads that may lead to something that may lead to a job someday, and it all seems a little more hopeful and a little bit better and a little bit easier to deal with.

The book you're looking for

2009-03-13T11:35:00.003-05:00

If you're looking for the book mentioned here, it's Jesus Land by Julia Scheeres. It's a memoir written by a woman who was raised in a strict Calvinist family in rural Indiana and chronicles the racism directed at her adopted brothers (they are black in a sea of white rednecks,) the hypocrisy of parents who give lip service to Christian values while creating a hell at home, and her years with her youngest brother in a Christian reform "school" in the Dominican Republic. It's a brutal, compelling read.

Short updates on a long day

2009-03-12T11:57:00.003-05:00

I have a to-do list a mile long. I've kind of been slacking this week, either getting tons done or doing absolutely nothing, depending upon the day. But since it's Thursday now, what would normally be an even-paced week of to-dos is now a crunch-time-get-it-done to-do day. Therefore you get a numbered list.

1. The alternating balmy to freezing days we've been having are making my hands freaky dry. And the windows in this place are these heavy double hung ones that come down from the tops as well as up from the bottom, and now that we've broken their winterseal they aren't totally closed, which means wind really whistles and cold air gets in. It's chilly in here.
2. I have an azalea plant that I seem hell bent on killing. Plants and I, we are not made for each other.
3. I am going through a phase where I hate cooking. Hate it. Think it's tedious and annoying. This is not ideal.
4. I've decided that there are benefits to wearing a plus size. For starters, they don't make us walk all over the store looking for things to try on...all our items get shoved in one corner, usually at the far end of the top floor of the store. I guess they figure we should probably be forced to work off the big lunch we've likely just had. Plus, there is generally not the overwhelming selection you see for the smaller ladies, and the really cute stuff is often still available because so many larger gals hate their bodies and are busy trying to look frumpy. And if you wear anything from a size 14 - 18, it's likely that at least half of the other women that size would rather spend twice as much money on something, anything that is from the "normal" section of the store, therefore the styles are yours for the picking.
5. I am embracing the whole "cheap is chic" thing. I have downgraded my moisturizers to drugstore brands, bought a Covergirl lipstain the other day, and as soon as the supply of Lush bath products is gone it's getting replaced with something from Walgreens. As you can tell from item 4, I have been wandering the Mile, but not spending money even though I badly need new jeans, a couple of spring tops, workout clothes and some sandals. It is a bad idea to lose weight when you don't have the resources to replace your too-big clothes.
6. I am reading The Omnivore's Dilemma. I know most of you are probably thinking, "Sheesh, Mindy, that's SO 2006." Well, in 2006 I was a) in England, and b) in graduate school, therefore books about the US food chain weren't a priority. But I'm using my library privileges to get caught up on NYTimes Best Books of 2004 - 2008, and it's on the list. I thought it was a bit of a slog at first, but now I'm sucked in. I tweeted something like this yesterday, but I am fascinated by the whole River of Corn and industrial food thing. As you know, I grew up in Iowa, ground zero for the corn empire. I didn't grow up on a farm nor did my family really have any ties to farming, yet I still know quite a bit about corn growing and fertilizer and crop rotation and feedlots and agricultural policy. When the author started explaining these things, my initial reaction was, "Well, DUH," but now I realize that I have specialized knowledge that city kids simply didn't get. I also hadn't really ever thought about all the ways corn is turned into not-corn things that are taking over the world. And I REALLY hadn't considered the amount of petroleum involved in the corn industry. And I'd NEVER considered corn an anthropomorphized into a Machiavellian devil set on taking over the world, let alone freaky mutant grass. Well, I'm here to tell you. Eyes. Opened. Wide. Very interesting stuff.
7. I went to Tango Sur with my friends Will and Sarah last night. Loved it. Great food, great prices, and huge portions. I have at least two meals from my $18 steak, plus it's BYOB so it's easy to keep the tab low.
8. I'm sure it's difficult to imagine that I occasionally did not do all of the reading/coursework in my casepack during my MBA. Well, I didn't. So now I've decided to get caught up, and am doing a bit of review each day. How geeky is that.
9. Totally suckered in by American Idol. Totally.
10. I've also become quite the fan of Vanilla Silk Creamer in a cup of decaf coffee in the evening. Of course, now that TOD has got me thinking about the power of corn, I realize that I am really adding a bushel of corn and a gallon of petroleum to my coffee to make it creamy and sweet, but for now I'm turning a deaf ear to that voice screaming, "Gross out!" in my head.
11. Ask CP to blog about Jesus Land.

Pet peeves, vol. 873

2009-03-05T22:28:00.002-06:00

You know what I hate? I hate commercials that use the music, the graphic style or, worse, BOTH from the hit movie Juno staring that delightful ingenue Ellen Page. What is charming and clever in independent film is not when you're trying to push me to buy something.

Comcast and the Atlantis Resort can suck it.

What a nice day

2009-03-05T16:47:00.002-06:00

It's gorgeous here in Chicago today. A bit overcast and a little windy, but still. Warm is warm. I've had a productive day, moving my little office to the back deck so that I could enjoy the fresh air. It's so nice not to be inside.

Cali had a big ball chase this morning, and now I'm taking her back to the lake and we're doing a little training run. I have it in my head that fitness is a great new goal for this gap year, so I am doing a little run/walk alternating training schedule with the intent that I can be running 5Ks later this summer. I'm also doing yoga most days, and some weight lifting on the balance ball for good measure. I had a knee injury from last summer that has been troubling me all winter, but I'm taking things slow and it's getting stronger.

In the meantime, Beth and I had this brilliant idea that we would go on South Beach together. It all started because we've been pretty much justifying treats non-stop for the past two months. Oh, I really really want a pizza for dinner tonight. Oh, the only thing in the world that could possibly make me feel better today is a brownie. I've been dreaming about sherbet for the last three nights...I better have some and get rid of this craving. And on and on. Between us, though, that meant that pretty much a day didn't go by when we had some sort of food we really didn't need. In an effort to stop, we decided that cutting white carbs would be a smart idea. That became South Beach.

We did pretty well the first week. By pretty well, I mean to say that we only ate a few fruity yogurt cups, I avoided white carbs when I went to dinner with my friend Will and only had a bite of his flourless chocolate cake, and on Hot Dog Day I only had a bratwurst. But then the other day, we decided that we needed a break. We had pizza. And oatmeal. And thai food. And chocolate, all within two days. So, BANG. We started again. Great day one, except for the left over pad thai that could not make it to the bin without some snacking. Great day two, except that I was miserable because I kept getting hungry. Great day three, except Beth had a vegan muffin, I didn't eat snacks or lunch because I had a meeting downtown, and we had burritos and ice cream for dinner. Today is Day Four, and while breakfast was exactly what we should have, I have no idea how Beth is doing and I had a bagel for lunch because I happened to be near Beans and Bagels and I could simply taste that whole wheat bagel with the chive cream cheese and I needed a latte anyway and, well, you get the idea.

I've lost weight, though I attribute that more to the exercise than the lack of dieting. And we still agree that it's a good idea. So tomorrow is Day One, aka Third Time's The Charm. And while I will stop phase one 10 days in again when Tom and George are here, I'll try not to let it be a blowout, and I will definitely get back to phase one when they leave for another 10 days. It's not that this is so hard, it's that it's a pain to have to cook meals all the time and to eat the volume of vegetables required not to feel hungry. But that's what gap years are for. Doing things you've always intended to do. Right?

Thai food overload

2009-03-01T17:00:00.002-06:00

We've discovered a fabulous new thai restaurant.

We'd taken the Scots to the airport, and by the time we got home we realized that we were pretty hungry. A kashi multi-grain waffle and yogurt will only take you so far, and since it was already 330pm we figured we'd just order dinner. and eat at old-people time - we hopped on Grubhub.com to see who was delivering. Grubhub is great, because it lists tons of restaurants you might not know deliver to you, it has every kind of cuisine imaginable and you can even order online instead of calling someone, often an advantage when ordering ethnic food because phone orders usually just result in some sort of misunderstanding and an hour later a plate of gelatinous goo with chili peppers shows up at your door. Online orders definitely simplify the whole language barrier problem.

We found King Noodle on Argyle Street. It got raves on every one of the reviews, so we thought we'd give it a try. Everything on the menu looked good so we ordered way more than we needed for lunch. It's really a lunch/dinner thing anyway, and then we can have a snack later, we reasoned. Good thinking, but this food was MARVELOUS and the next thing you know we'd pretty much snarfed it all down. I am now belly-distended-tick-about-to-pop uncomfortable.

Woe is me.

Slacker

2009-02-27T14:51:00.003-06:00

There's been an intervention, and it has been pointed out that my excessive use of twitter at the expense of this blog is a cop out, a sin and all around lame. I have been instructed to remedy this immediately. The intervention came from this guy:

I know what's good for me, so I apologize for my excessive lameness and will begin my regular and frequent full-length blogging with a bulleted list of updates to bring you to speed on my days in Chicago. (I will, however, act out passive-aggressively by mumbling something about how Simon should probably not wear yellow on days when he's that hungover.) Now, for the updates:

The job search continues. I've revised my resume seven times since I first sent it out. First to Americanize the content and language. Then I had some feedback from a very generous soul (my landlord's mother, who showed us our apartment back in November,) who made me shorten it up and helped me tailor it to management consulting. Of course, in December I got a temp assignment at a recruiting agency that specializes in helping displaced workers find new jobs (paid for, of course, by their former employers,) and I got all sorts of formatting tips to make things stand out. Whew! You'd think I'd be done, right? Nope. More changes, first at the request of my landlord's mom before she sent it to a few people, and then to tailor it to other types of jobs (3 total) so that I can expand my search from management consulting and change implementation to project management, event management and business development. BUT, with the economy as crap as it is, I also have to start looking at jobs that are perhaps less responsibility, less pay and a bit mundane compared to my ideal - rent needs to be paid and a girl's gotta eat - so I made a version that leaves off my MBA and dumbs down my experience so that I do not get tossed out as overqualified. I think I have used up all remaining hard drive space with the various versions of me.
I'm trying to figure out how to use social media to network my way to a job. LinkedIn helps me find people to speak with about various positions, but I just know that twitter has potential, too. So I spend a lot of time online researching ways to use twitter, ways to load your resume online, and other ways to meet people who might be able to help me get a job.
I have cut out most white carbs and alcohol. Not all, mind you. We live near a bitchin' pizza place with a wood-fired oven imported from Italy, so it's foolish to pretend that I'm never eating flour again. Plus, as a rule, I like bread now and again, and it's fun to watch Cali drool when you eat a piece of toast, and you know I like me a cocktail now and again. But for the most part, we're solidly low GI in this house.
Have you ever been completely obsessed with sherbet? Delicious, tart, tangy, creamy sherbet? Well, I have. And that was the tipping point of #3.
I switched my computer to US settings. This means my clock says 3:23PM and spellcheck now knows not to add all those "u"s to my words, but that I no longer have the symbol for GBP on the shift-3 and the @ is back on the shift-2 where " used to be. My computer is like a minefield for people who can't touch-type.
I have been blessed with many visitors. I got to spend several days hanging out with my friend Sue-Bee and her handsome poet while they attended a conference. It was absolutely wonderful. We went to see a really cool show at the History Museum highlighting high fashion in Chicago's history. We also had a delicious dinner at the aforementioned pizza place, and since the wait was so long we got little bites of truffle pizza and ricotta bread while we waited. Oh! and since the mini-canoli were gone by the time we left, we got white roses on our way out instead.
Then it was autoshow day! Little Sister and I met up and had a big day out in the city. We sat in tons of cars, and I have decided that I will be rewarding myself with an Acura TL once I get settled in my new job. And FYI to American automakers - I no longer want to bail you out. Your cars are cheaply made and pale in comparison to your European and Asian competitors. Yes, I'm talking to you, Chrysler and GM. (Though those Town and Country Vans redeem you a little bit.) Ford, you get a pass because that Fusion and the Taurus are pretty nice. But the Flex? Really? Did you really think we needed something dumber-looking than a PT Cruiser?
Next, my friend Will arrived for a whirlwind meeting, and I got taken out to dinner at Coobah.
And then the next day, the mean yellow man showed up and lectured me. About several things, but since he is my co-coach from Cranfield I listen to him. He knows me pretty well, and he's usually right. And there has also been much fun had since he arrived. He is travelling with a friend and we had a big day out yesterday. Went to many hot dog stands and ended up meeting a friend for cocktails and dinner. I hear they had a huge night out, but I was obligated to stay sober and leave by 1030 so I missed the biggest part of the debauchery. I will say, however, that Simon's friend Marco is delightful - he's handsome, smart, funny and he knows damn well that he's sex-on-legs. Quite the handful, actually. But he seems nice enough, so on him it ends up charming and not callow. Not that I would tell him this, because he would use it to mercilessly taunt me.
Plus they have Glaswegian accents.
Today I have two phone calls to make and then I'm off to do yoga before I take Cali for a walk. So we'll stop here, and I will see you again tomorrow.

Pre-Valentine's post

2009-02-12T14:00:00.002-06:00

So yesterday I wished you Blossom. Today, I am offering you this video...my dear Poor George emailed the link and petition, and I want to do my part to help spread the world.

There is not nearly enough love in the world. Why try to kill some of what we DO have?

Public Service Announcement

2009-02-12T09:25:00.001-06:00

Men, don't believe the ads. Unless you're dating a 13 year old, it's unlikely your girlfriend will be thrilled with a Vermont Teddy Bear.

Rest in peace, Blossom

2009-02-11T14:41:00.003-06:00

Blossom Dearie died Saturday.

This makes me incredibly sad.

One of my best memories ever is seeing Blossom on my 40th birthday at Danny's Skylight Room. Blossom was magical - incredibly talented, with a soulful voice that encapsulated innocence, experience, love and heartache in every breath. She will always be my go-to-girl.

Take a listen. This Valentine's Day, I wish you Blossom.

Pandora is out (again)

2009-02-04T17:27:00.002-06:00

Back when I lived in the UK, Lulu turned me on to Pandora Radio, and I loved it. I listened to it all the time, especially when I was studying...with the headphones on to block out noise, I'd be immersed in my own little think tank and my productivity soared. Of course, the folks in the music industry started smelling blood in the water and pretty quickly they had to shut off any accounts using the feed from a non-US IP address. I mean, they might lose a penny or two of profit, and therefore it had to be bad thing. So I switched to my iPod, deleted my bookmark and forgot about it.

Now, however, I am tuning in from Chicago and nobody can say anything to me. Lucky for me, then, that Pandora came up in conversation over Christmas - my mom's "hip" friend Jim listens to James Taylor and Jimmy Buffet via Pandora - and it reminded me to renew her acquaintance.

Today I've been at the kitchen table getting caught up on job applications. And Pandora has kept me going with a diverse playlist, tailored specifically to my musical taste. The last 20 songs:

Nanci Griffith
Lovage (Stroker Ace is a bitchin' song)
The Raconteurs
Beck
The Fratellis
SCOTS
Reverend Horton Heat
Batmobile
The Hollisters
Jack Johnson
Everclear
The Clash
Elvis Costello
Hem
Radiohead
Everything But the Girl
Bitter:Sweet
Thievery Corporation
Thin Lizzy
Tom Waits

All good.

Dry be gone

2009-01-30T14:05:00.002-06:00

It's pretty much criminal how much winter takes a toll on your skin. I've wanted to cry, my legs are so itchy and dry. So dry that it stings when I put lotion on them. Ditto my back, my arms, my feet...you get the picture. I prepared myself for the snow and the temperatures so cold that you can't take a deep breath, but I somehow blocked out the nasty dryness of winter.

Out of necessity, though, I have developed a combat strategy, mobilizing seven, yes SEVEN moisturizers (actually, make that eight because I'm trying a new one) to keep the hounds at bay. And so far, we seem to have reached detente. Here's what I'm reduced to, simply to survive the winter:

AM: Shower. Don't dry off, but immediately slather Vaseline Intensive Rescue moisture-locking lotion on skin. Then towel off (This, of course, means washing one's towel every day or two.) Now coat face with Avon's Anew 10% Vitamin C Serum. Then apply Kiehl's Ultra Facial Tinted Moisturizer SPF 15. (My normal mineral foundation brings out the flakiness in my skin in the winter.)

At regular intervals throughout the day, hands must be treated with L'Occitane Shea Butter Hand Cream or Burt's Bees Almond Milk Beeswax Hand Cream, whichever is convenient. (We're talking three or four times a day, or the side of my index fingers will snag my clothing.)

PM: When getting ready for bed, slather Kiss My Face Olive and Aloe lotion on skin before donning pajamas. Now coat face with Exuviance Evening Restorative Complex or Kiehl's Abyssine Cream, and you're ready for bed. (I never thought I'd be one of those women who needed a different moisturizer in the winter. But now I am. Yikes.)

God help me, I'm missing the dampness of England. My skin was supple, my hair was curly, and though I was occasionally chilled to the bone, at least I looked good.

Ways other than Paul Blart and lipstick to combat economic depression

2009-01-28T10:27:00.002-06:00

They say that, when the economy tanks and you can't see any way through your pile of bills and are wondering who you'll look wearing one of those barrels with shoulder straps, women buy lipstick and everyone goes to upbeat, escapist movies to take their minds off their troubles. But I'm here to tell you that any lipstick worth having is nigh 'bout $20 or more and you'll just end up regretting it, and Hollywood has not caught up with the times yet. Plus, it's Oscar season, so once you've seen Slumdog Millionaire your choices are sexy Nazis seducing children, attractive suburbanites mourning the death of their dreams, and nuns and priests talking about child abuse. (That said, I hear Gran Torino is a good diversion with a message, and if you don't hate Brad Pitt as much as I do you could probably sit through that Owen Meany movie where he ages like he's from Ork.) And while I'm as big a Kevin James fan as the next person, you can't ask him to shoulder the whole burden. It's another few days until the Valentine's Day romantic comedies start hitting theaters....and you may need help before then.

Well, here comes the New York Times to your rescue. They have two great features that will fill the void, and they're both free as long as you have a bit of imagination and are willing to share a bit of demographic information by registering as a user.

Real Estate Porn: The Grey Lady doesn't call it this, what since that would be kind of tacky, but that's what it is. They have endless slideshows about cool dream homes and real estate around the country....you can read the article if you're like that, but I usually just skip to the money shots and spend some time looking at what $1.5m will buy me in Colorado or what $440k buys in Maine. I think about how I'd decorate differently (I hate that pretentious fake-Tuscan-new-money crap,) or where I'd drink my coffee if I lived there. Sometimes I plan parties in these houses. Or make fun of the poor sap who paid $440K for a condo in Telluride but has to sleep in a loft over the closet. I mean, all that money and he has to climb down a ladder to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Oh. And FYI, exposed beams attract spiders and other nesting insects...think of THAT next time you see a vaulted ceiling in a tropical paradise.

Real-life Romance: They make movies about this, and they're not nearly as fun as the actual column. I am not one of those women who dreams of getting married and plans her wedding a thousand times and lives for romance and true love. In fact, I've become quite a cynic about it all. Somehow, though, the NYTimes wedding columns make it past all my attitude. I love them. For the uninitiated, each week they feature one couple with a compelling love story. They interview them and their friends and family, and they write a column detailing their courtship, the obstacles they faced, and the things about their relationship that will tug on the heartstrings of the audience. They seem particularly fond of the rich and famous, people who work with the homeless or drug addicts and long distance relationships. And there seems to be some sort of bonus if you've given up on love.

Next time you're craving an escape, give these a try. They're cheaper and a lot less time consuming, and won't be affected by your tan. Or try The Sartorialist, because it's always fun to see high fashion walking on the street.

Unsolicited product endorsement - Dorset Cereals

2009-01-27T19:14:00.006-06:00

Food is a part of daily life and, especially as someone who treats cooking and eating like a hobby, it's a fundamental part of my memories of people, places and events. Pigs-in-a-blanket remind me of eating at a table where my feet didn't touch the floor, and my mom making a special meal just for my brother and me. Grilled fish reminds me of my friend Pam or of the time our friend Kip tried to make us salmon it took about seven hours. Muffins remind me of Uptown Espresso in Seattle, because they made a killer rhubarb one that was the size of your head. Grilled chicken reminds me of my dad, especially if it's a little over done. Dim Sum reminds me of Tom and George.

In every stage of my life, I make food memories that follow me, and when I want to really cuddle with that part of my history I simply find that food and savor it, and it's as close to being there as it gets.

In England, one of my favorite things was Dorset Cereals. They were an entrepreneurial group who made muesli and other wholesome-y cereals chock full of nuts and dried fruits and whole grains and flavor. I would have some for breakfast most days, usually with a bit of yogurt and a glass of pink grapefruit juice. Dorset Cereals are fine fine examples of what cereal can be. The flavors are complex, they are sweet without artifice, and it sticks to your ribs and gets you going for the day - an imperative where breakfast is concerned. When I moved back to the US I bid them goodbye, and though I tried a few things that seemed similar when I got here, nothing quite compared. It all tasted like something you'd get on a breakfast buffet at some low-end hotel in Switzerland. So I switched to toast.

And then about a month ago I decided to try making a Nigela Lawson bread, and I sent Beth to Whole Foods to pick up the ingredients. The bread's basically whole wheat bread flour, milk, yeast and muesli, so I asked her to pick one that looked delicious....it really does make the bread. And what did she bring back? Dorset Cereals simply delicious muesli. Yippee! Whole Foods carries the whole line! I am saved!

My favorites are the Berries and Cherries and Fruit, Nut and Fiber. But I've tried them all and there's not a bad one in the bunch, so go with your gut. They're about $4.89 a box and I know this seems high, but considering that each box is almost two weeks of breakfast it really isn't as expensive as it seems. And it is well worth the price, if you ask me.

Now my only problem is the package directions for enjoyment. I get the milk and yogurt options, but fruit juice? Who puts orange juice on their cereal?

Unwittingly a Fashion Maven

2009-01-27T13:55:00.003-06:00

In these times of economic trouble, one has to find a few luxuries to make one feel special. For me, this usually means fat free, sugar free chocolate pudding and a glossy magazine. Specifically this week, I went for the Jello-brand Dark Chocolate and a copy of the February Lucky. The pudding is delicious. And Lucky? It has revealed that I am the epitome of February style.

I didn't even make it past the table of contents before I saw a picture of a sexy black lace cocktail dress. Lo and behold, on page 41 executive editor MK Rollins tells us about how lace is what she wants NOW! And while their stretch dress is from edressme.com and mine is not, it looks surprisingly similar. (Mine comes in chubbies.) I flip the page, and senior associate fashion editor A Brady is on about Navajo-inspired designs for a dose of relaxed chic. Look at my clearance sale sweater.

And the hits just keep on coming. Their market editor loves braiding to add interest to understated pieces, and I have a cool blue sweater that has a crochet/braided texture to it, which makes it feminine and pretty for a plain blue top. The foolproof outfit and bargain hunter sections talked about oversized, bigsturdy watches - I wear a stainless steel Kenneth Cole men's watch, which while it might be dainty on a gentleman's wrist is more a bangle bracelet on mine. Did I buy it because women's tiny watches are dwarfed by my big bones? Sure. But does that matter? Heck no! I'm a trend setter! By the time they started showing wedge heels, wingtip heels and motorcycle jackets I was beginning to think they'd just come to my closet to look for ideas.

Perhaps next month they'll be contacting me for their new feature: Ways to make odds and ends you've bought over the last 15 years into outfits that don't make you look foolish. I'm an expert at that. And note to Lucky...we'll be doing it WITHOUT harem pants. I mean, come on. Look at yourself.

Mini-blogging is more fun

2009-01-26T13:29:00.004-06:00

I'm sorry for my absence. I've been preoccupied by twitter. I like the mini-blogging format - I mean, ultimately, I'm not saying anything different than I do here...I just have to limit my irrelevant ramblings to 140 characters or less. And if you're following me, you can request that my tweets be sent to your phone so you never have to wait for my pithy observations. Lucky, lucky you!

And sometimes you can tweet to win things. No one ever gives me things for this. Wait. I take that back. Madame L sent me delicious caramels last year and is knitting me a hat, so I HAVE actually received things from this blog. Not that I'm in it for the money. Just saying.

I just finished reading Such a Pretty Fat by Jen Lancaster. (I believe Marni's book group was reading this, as well.) It was an amusing chronicle of one woman's weight loss journey, and it made me think that maybe I should try writing as a career. If I tried, I could be as funny as her. Stuff happens to me. She lives in Chicago, I live in Chicago. She has dogs...I have a dog, and ours looks like Marley and is afraid of strangers, so I have countless stories of strangers reaching out to pet a celebrity pooch only to have Cali cower as though they are raising a steel-toed boot. And I'm unemployed! And a temp! That's at LEAST two or three chapters of fun. Jen Lancaster and me, we're practically the same! Except, of course, she is a talented published author and I am a blogger who tweets. But otherwise. Twins.

On a totally different subject, do you have a mini bundt pan? If not, you really should help the US economy by running out to get one, preferably one made in the US of A. Bethany wanted cupcakes for her birthday and we didn't have any of those little paper liners so I elected to make mini bundts instead. They are marvelous. Moist and delicious. And when did you last have canned white frosting? Because it is also a tasty, tasty treat.

Grapefruit and leftover birthday bundts. Talk about a breakfast of champions.

Which reminds me. I need a library card. I am planning on rereading a bunch of Vonnegut. It will likely not resonate as it did when I was 15, but it's worth a try.

Unsolicited product endorsement - Boots No7 Lash 360

2009-01-20T19:24:00.002-06:00

Ladies (and gentlemen who wear mascara), if you're looking for full, beautiful eye-popping lashes, get yourself down to the Target and make a beeline to the Boots No. 7 cosmetics. Lash 360 is the mascara for you!

I became quite a fan of other No. 7 products while living in the UK. It's all really Chanel makeup and skincare repackaged for Boots the Chemist as a way to expand their line into a non-department store price point. In fact, it's still a bit of a premium price, but the products I have are well worth it. I LOVE their liquid liner, and their lipsticks are divine. With mascaras, though, I've always been a believer in the makeup artist tip that you're wasting money if you buy anything other than the cheap pink-and-green Cover Girl.

Over Christmas, however, I brought the Lash 360 sample with, and the magic it works on my lashes has shocked even me. I don't have especially long or thick lashes. In fact, they're only acceptable because they are brown and therefore visible. But NOW, my lashes are amazing. Strangers are commenting. Even my MOTHER noticed, for Pete's sake.

Perhaps it is my lashes that made the homeless man fall in love with me tonight. But he said I was beautiful, and homeless men don't lie when they're begging for change, right?

My own personal heavenly bed

2009-01-15T14:58:00.002-06:00

As most of you know, I've just come off of a ten year career planning corporate events around the world. This means I've slept in some pretty nice beds, and some pretty crappy ones, as well. If you are also one who travels for work, you'll remember about eight years ago or so when Westin started the bed revolution with the Heavenly Bed. Their theory: If you're traveling on an expense account you don't care as much about cost as you do about getting a decent night's sleep when you're away from home. So they invested in a branded package of high-quality, all white bedding on a perfectly firmsoft mattress with big, sumptuous pillows to suck you in and make you weep with joy. Their reps started hyping the Bed months in advance of the roll out, and they promised us it would be revolutionary. It was.

The first time I stayed in a Westin with a HB, I was in Seattle on a high floor in a suite with views of the Sound. I remember sinking into the fluffy comforter after a night out with my friends, falling asleep as I watched the lights of the ferries coming and going from Bremerton in the middle of the night. It was perfect. And though pretty much every chain has followed suit with their own version of sleep-wonderland, I am still partial to Westin. They got it right first, and somehow that makes them better in my book.

When I moved back to the US, the one big bit of furniture missing from my collection was a mattress. I'd sold mine to my brother before I moved, and so I had to come up with something quick. I googled Heavenly Bed. Turns out Westin sells the whole darn package as a turnkey route to perfect slumber. Of course, the whole thing was close to $3000 for a queen sized bed with 300 thread count linens, and what since I am trying to economize that wasn't the best idea. But the Google is mighty clever, and some of the other sites pulled up sent me to chat rooms and other sites pointing me in the direction of the individual elements - and I decided to build myself one from scratch.

Step One: The Mattress - if you build the right foundation, then the rest just follows. So I looked at the details of the HB, and it turns out it's a 13" Simmons mattress with a pillow top and 850 small pocket coils. When you start looking for this, it's not so hard to find. Everyone's got one, and it's just a matter of picking your vendor. I chose Sleep Squad, and I'd highly recommend them to anyone. You pick your mattresses to try, they drive them to your house in a mobile showroom. They set them up, pull the curtains, then leave you in privacy to try them out while they stand on the sidewalk. If you find the one you want, they'll process the sale and carry it into the house for you, setting it up and taking the packaging with them when they go. The Cairo is pretty much exactly this...it's a little thicker, and it's 800 coils instead of 850, but it feels divine and it's a bit cheaper than ones I found at other vendors that would have been a little closer in spec.

Step Two: The Pillows - Heavenly Beds come with four, so I added four good quality ones to my bed. I had two already, so I just bought one down alternative and one down to supplement (actually, they were a gift from my mom), and presto! I have the pillows, too.

Step Three: The Bedding - HB's are all white, and as mentioned above the go with a good quality 300 thread count. Now THAT'S an easy find. I already had two duvet covers that are exactly that...I believe in pristine white bedding...and I found 350 thread count sheets and a hotel-quality mattress pad on sale at TJ Maxx.

Step Four: Assemble

While the name "Heavenly Bed" is trademarked and therefore I am not allowed to call my bed that, I will tell you that what I have created is a thing of wonder. I sleep through the night and I wake well-rested. I have no aches and pains. It is toasty warm on the coldest night. The sheets are luxuriously decadent with the right combo of silky luxury and crisp-rough cottony goodness. Sometimes, when I'm walking past my bedroom in the middle of the day, I just go lay down for a second. It's a comforting, delicious moment to capture my thoughts and regroup for more networking and emailing for jobs. I love, love LOVE my bed.

And the best part? The whole thing came in well under $1300. That's still a lot of money, but I'm old now. I can't skimp on a quality bed anymore. And I could buy another one for less than the cost of one from the Westin store. I feel so smug.

Get-to-know-you-questions, vol 1

2009-01-11T20:58:00.003-06:00

We all need ice breaker questions. Things to jump start conversations when they hit a seven minute lull, or to ask on a speed date to vet the crazies. Here's one you can use, plus when you ask it you'll have time to come up with a really clever response when they ask you, "how about you?"

(And please answer the question. Not that many people read my blog. Heck, I'll even turn off the no-anonymous-comments button for a week or so, just so readers who don't have google accounts can play. But it would be nice if you'd give me some clue to who you are so I can, in fact, get to know you.)

You're going to the Oscars and you know there is going to be a five minute tribute for some lifetime achievement. Whose tribute would you least like to sit through?

Two movies you should see, and other Golden Globe opinions

2009-01-11T19:25:00.003-06:00

I haven't seen that many movies this year. But two of the ones I have seen are exceptional, and while I'm sitting here watching the Golden Globes I thought I'd endorse them.

One you've likely heard about - Slumdog Millionaire. I had high expectations...it'd gotten excellent reviews and the plot sounded intriguing. But my expectations were nothing close to how good this movie is. Don't get me wrong. It is at times brutal to watch - I mean, it's about a kid growing up in the slums of India, after all. But Danny Boyle and his cast manage to find exactly the right path through the madness, blending honest sadness and atrocity with humanity and humor. There is a scene early in the movie set in an outhouse that sets the pace and tone, and from that point forward you know you can trust Boyle with the story he's telling. And it's a doozy. Go see it. Pay full price. Don't miss out on this film.

The other is a bit of a sleeper. In Bruges. Perhaps you didn't hear about it until it got nominated. Or perhaps you heard about it and have the same sort of aversion to Colin Farrell that I do to Angelina Jolie (or anything associated with her, even Brad Pitt.) Or perhaps you live in a smaller town and it didn't come to your theater. I imagine it was a bit of an art film here. In any case, it's an absolute riot of a comedy thriller. Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson are hitman who are sent to Bruges to chill after a hit in the UK goes down badly. This is a classic buddy film with a mobster feel and a clever script and interesting plot. Ralph Feines is even good in it...he doesn't even seem like a Nazi, which somehow he always manages to do even when he's NOT playing one. I notice tonight that both Farrell and Gleeson are nominated for best actor. I think they both deserve it, and since the kid from Slumdog Millionaire got robbed by the GG, I hope one of them wins. Bruges is a beautiful city, and they capture it well on film. Gleeson is a clipped professional, and he gives one of the more nuanced portrayals of a character that's been done many times before. Farrell is a boy-racer of the gangster world, but he allows the bravado enough cracks to make his character authentic. But the real joy here is watching these two very different actors play off each other, creating a screen couple that will make me buy this film so I can watch it again and again.

And now, a few thoughts on the Golden Globes. With the time difference in the UK, I never got to see award shows whilst in the UK. It just wasn't fun to watch the edited versions later in the week. And while I probably wouldn't be watching this tonight if I were able to do something other than sit on the sofa, it's secretly delightful to see this.

My, were celebrities glib to the interviewers on the red carpet. I think Maggie Gyllenhal is going to punch the next person who asks her if Heath Ledger should win for The Dark Night.
Michael C. Hall should have won for Dexter. Have you seen Dexter? That show is unbelievable.
Johnny Depp never goes bad. Neither does Meryl Streep.
Why does Rumor Willis seem so awkward?
It would suck to be caught smiling in the crowd shots immediately after Heath Ledger won.
Drew Barrymore looks like she came in character for her Grey Gardens role, bless her. I think it's the hair.
It is a crime, an absolute crime that the actor that plays adult Jamal in Slumdog Millionaire was not nominated for that movie.
Emma Thompson's husband is a stone cold fox.
I bet Rainn Wilson has trouble picking up women. You want to think he's nothing like the characters he plays, but it's starting to look suspicious. And I bet Aaron Eckhart does, too, if they've ever seen that film he did about seducing the deaf girl and then dumping her.
I wonder if Seth Rogan is stoned. (That was rhetorical.)

GI distress on steroids

2009-01-11T12:11:00.004-06:00

There's a stomach bug going around and, never one to miss a trend, I caught it with a vengeance. I woke up about 3AM Friday, and I felt like there was kind of an electric charge in my system. I was almost twitchy. It didn't make any sense. And then I realized that it was an adrenalin surge to get me up and running across the hall. Thank God for adrenalin.

This has been a flu of biblical proportions. Friday I actually considered just sleeping in the bathroom, but opted to just stay in bed and hope my sprints to the bathroom got further apart. Yesterday I made it to the couch, but that was an effort. Bethany tells me I have to eat something, anything...and so I've managed some applesauce, a half a packet of saltines and some dry toast. And some Squirt. I'd make jello, but I can't bear to be in the kitchen.

I haven't answered my phone because my voice is weak and it hurts to think. I started tweeting again yesterday, but it takes too much thought to respond to others' tweets on my phone. (That @ symbol is a pain to find on my phone.)

I've also noticed that TV isn't nearly as much fun when you're sick. There's a lot of programming you can't watch. I never realized how much I rely on Dirty Jobs and the Food Network to provide mindless entertainment. Instead, I've had to fill in with on-Demand programs and a day-long Monk marathon on USA. God knows how I'll get by today. I'll try reading, but I've already got a bit of a headache and I'm not hopeful. Plus my concentration is not great, so I'll need to find a book that requires none.

Great moments in my history

2009-01-08T19:45:00.002-06:00

God help me.
Is it the eyeliner, the John-Hughes-film-wannabe wardrobe or the Schlitz in my hand
that makes this so regrettable? Thanks to my friend GF, I can now worry what other photos might be lurking out there.

I so missed the trend

2009-01-07T12:04:00.006-06:00

I just read an article about things that are now "out". Cupcakes are one of them. This is so not fair. Cupcakes ROCK. The whole giant-luxury-cupcake-as-impulse-buy trend never hit the UK, and outside of that one Sex and the City episode, I didn't even know there was a cupcake revolution happening back at home. So now, just when I discover the joys of a Red Velvet cupcake, or a S'more cupcake with homemade marshmallow on top, THEY go and declare cupcakes obsolete, passe, the Furby of the pastry world.

All I'm saying is apparently THEY have not recently had a delightful treat from Bleeding Heart Bakery or Angel Food. Perhaps they should give them another chance. Killjoys.

Reverse psychology

2009-01-06T12:40:00.003-06:00

Here, for public display, are my New Year's resolutions.

1) Stop exercising. I mean, why walk when you can ride? Plus, if you take deep breaths in the cold it kind of hurts, so I'll start smoking a pack a day effective immediately, then up that to two packs by my birthday - I'll never be able to fully inhale again.
2) Gain 15 pounds. And start eating more fried foods. There isn't enough grease in my diet.
3) Swear more.
4) Stay unemployed. Instead, I'll start watching daytime TV and selling Amway on the side. Or maybe Shaklee.
5) In fact, watch more TV full stop. Can you believe I haven't caught an episode of Mama's Boys yet???
6) Buy a deeply discounted SUV and burn as much fossil fuel as I can.
7) Sit home a lot. Socializing sucks. Plus it's more fun to drink alone.
8) Start a Ponzi scheme.
9) Go whoring. Who needs a real relationship?
10) Start volunteering for the RNC.

Chores suck, vol 1

2009-01-06T12:26:00.001-06:00

Man, I hate making my bed. You'd think I'd outgrow that.

Movie review in 10 words or less - Slumdog Millionaire

2009-01-06T12:19:00.002-06:00

Memento, City of God and Awara on steroids. It ROCKS.

New year, new beginning

2009-01-06T11:05:00.003-06:00

I've not been myself the last few months. And now that's going to change. So I've deleted my posts since I moved back (except for christmas memories, which are timeless,) and I'm starting with a clean slate.

Thus, I am reborn.

Happy New Year, folks!

Great moments in my christmas history

2008-12-08T23:49:00.002-06:00

Nice camera angle.
No wonder my mom was always telling me to sit like a lady.
Luckily, though, that's just a bit of teenage cellulite and not a full Britney.

Great moments in my history

2008-11-23T23:15:00.002-06:00

See, Pam? I can do better. You can almost see the short bus pulling up around the corner.

Great moments in my Christmas history

2008-11-22T23:00:00.004-06:00

Thirteen years old, and my pajamas still had rubber feet.
We don't call this "The Special People Club" for nothing.

Sharing the ceremony

2008-10-26T00:38:00.004-05:00

Note - this is a very long post...it took 25 minutes to actually read aloud, but since some of you might be interested I'm posting it.

The Transcript of the Official Wedding Ceremony of Poor George and Coaster Punchman

I’d like to welcome everyone to this beautiful setting today to witness and celebrate the marriage of two spectacular people, Poor George and Coaster Punchman.

Some of you know me and to others I’m a new face – my name is Melinda June, and I’m a close friend of the happy couple. I’m incredibly honored and a little overwhelmed that they’ve asked me to perform this ceremony. And I apologize in advance that I’m going to read this whole thing…it’s very important to me that I get this right, and since we couldn’t get a teleprompter this is the only recourse.

As is obvious by the number of you gathered here today, I’m not the only person in this world who adores these two men.Therefore, when they asked me to prepare the ceremony and vows, I decided to enlist the help of the scores of people who love them, and I sent out an email asking for input. I’ve gotten many, many responses, and I’ll be using quotes and references from these emails to help make this ceremony a reflection of the love and good wishes being sent their way

Let’s start today with some thoughts from ES, who has known CP for years and who sent an eloquent note about how society defines marriage. She writes:

When we speak of marriage, we speak of it in two senses, as a spiritual or existential relationship between two people and as a legal institution. Marriage in spirit is marriage in the sense of Shakespeare’s famous sonnet: “Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediment.” Out first instinct, I think, is to say that this is marriage in its truest sense. This is marriage of spirit and mind and heart, of love and faith and charity. Many couples, albeit they be “married,” never have this kind of marriage; no law or god creates it, it cannot be put asunder, by will of god or man or by the letter of the law. Of course this is the sort of marriage that CP and Poor George already have. This ceremony does not create this true marriage for it already exists. This ceremony and the signed piece of paper that accompanies it do something different. Something legal, something public.

Marriage in this truest sense and marriage in the legal sense are two different things that only sometimes overlap. Marriage in the legal sense may coincide with a couple’s feelings, but need not, and often, historically, does not.Indeed, what marriage means legally has differed according to place and time: where once marriage was legally understood as a set of contractual obligations between individuals and their families, our modern, legal understanding of marriage is as a set of rights, that may or may not be exercised by adults, as they so choose. But why choose marriage in the legal sense?

Marriage of the spirit is private: a domestic, intimate relationship that only two partake in. We know little of our friends or families’ marriages in this sense. But their legal marriage is our business. For marriage, in the legal sense, is a public event, a contract made between two citizens and civil society. I commit myself to this man, in front of you, with you as my witnesses, to live in society with you (fellow citizens) with this man as my spouse. Indeed, it is this externalization, the performative of the “I do,” which makes marriage more than just an intimate conversation between two, but a civic institution, to be respected. I think, therefore, that we can all feel fortunate that another couple has entered this civic institution of marriage, with the true feelings of spiritual marriage behind it.

Her point is well taken, because it’s the legal aspects of marriage that have brought us here today instead of sometime next spring.

It’s unjust that we’ve had to rush this ceremony. As you may or not know, there is a ballot initiative called Proposition 8 that will be given a yea or nay vote on November 4, and if it passes California will no longer issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples. Therefore, there hasn’t been time to plan this like a normal wedding, because waiting may mean that CP and Poor George would lose their right to legal recognition of their bond.

Whether it’s Proposition 8 or a similar initiative in another state, it’s important to vote NO, and to vocalize how destructive and mean-spirited this kind of bigotry is. In fact, California and Massachusetts are the only states that currently issue licenses for same-sex marriages. And, after the ceremony today, in the unlikely event that CP and Poor George decide to separate, they will have the hassles of divorce to deal with, but their union will not be recognized in most states in the US, and they will still not receive the federal privileges of marriage. It’s important that we, as people who love them, speak openly about this and actively seek to win hearts and minds, and change state and federal laws so that discrimination like this becomes a thing of the past.

It’s funny. Ballot initiatives like Proposition 8 make same-sex marriage the new “shotgun wedding” – couples are running to the county clerk to get on the right side of the law before the big day, which in this case, is the November 4th election.

BUT!

We are not here today to celebrate the legality of same-sex marriage. We are here to celebrate the spiritual, the TRADITIONAL marriage of two people who love each other dearly, and who are ready to stand in front of their friends and loved ones to make a lifelong commitment to each other.

And the fact that you’ve all dropped everything and travelled to San Diego to be here with them today is especially meaningful. Poor George and CP would like me to thank you for your love and support.

So – ONWARD!

CP and Poor George are no dewy-eyed newlyweds. They are unique, talented individuals that bring rich personal histories and perspectives to their relationship.

When I asked people about Georgie - or Poor George as he’s known on CP’s blog – they immediately speak of his talents, both in the kitchen and in music.

Poor George’s friends and fellow musicians will tell you he is one of the most amazing musicians they know. If playing Carnegie Hall is a milestone, then Poor George achieved it at a very young age. Pretty impressive.

Through his music, Poor George has touched the lives of many, and along the way he’s made fiercely loyal friends. And though in many cases it is music that brings them together, it is Poor George’s goofy personality and his extraordinary culinary skills that build the lifelong friendships that surround him.

To a one, Poor George and CP’s friends and family rave about Poor George’s cooking, hospitality and genial gatherings. His niece B credits Poor George with introducing her to the finer culture of food and wine, and the art of living a beautiful life. One of his frequent guests, JB, tells a story that anyone who has dined at Poor George’s house can relate to. He says, “I recall a moment of clarity and culinary ecstasy as I dipped my first chip into the Santa Fe dip, then several minutes of bliss, and finally a moment of horror as I reached the bottom of the bowl almost single-handedly. I swear the salad bowl was quite large, and I’m fairly sure I contributed nothing to the conversation but the sound of constant chewing.”

But more than this, when people speak of Poor George, they speak of his kindness. His generosity. His good humor, his warmth and his optimism. They tell stories of him coming to play he-man and change a flat tire in the middle of the night. Of him cracking jokes to relieve tension. Of outrageous goofiness and giggling. And of his ability to make those around him get perspective when they are troubled or stressed by the ways of the world.

As I’ve gotten to know him, I realize that this is just who Poor George is. He’s the guy who’s always cracking jokes and is the life of the party, but he’s the guy who's also always looking out for you, whether you know it or not. Poor George will always tell you the truth. He lives his life honestly, and he demands that those around him do, too. But he does so with kindness and sensitivity, and respect for the people he loves.

It is these qualities of kindness and caring, Poor George, that CP’s sister M described when she spoke of your love for her brother. She’s seen you care for CP when he’s ailing, watching out for him and supporting him, and making him laugh and lighten up when he’s taking things too seriously.

It is this quiet way in which you express your love that has made those who love CP love you.

This ancient Chinese love poem was written by Kuan Tao-Sheng (1262-1319) :

You and I
Have so much love
That it burns like a fire,
In which we bake a lump of clay
Molded into a figure of you
And a figure of me.
Then we take both of them,
And break them into pieces,
And mix the pieces with water,
And mold again a figure of you,
And a figure of me.
I am in your clay.
You are in my clay.
In life we share a single quilt.
In death we will share one bed.

And now we turn to Coaster Punchman.

CP’s friends often describe him as a sweet, gentle soul with a rapier wit. He’s sardonic and generous, and he is one of those rare people you meet whom you know is good to the core.

And I guess that’s true. But, CP, you’re also a goofy lug, prone to silliness, obsession and excitability. Which is part of your charm, but also makes for good story telling.

CP is completely unaware that most people don’t go through life screaming like a little girl every time they’re startled. It makes even something as mundane as grocery shopping an adventure, and driving with him can become an amusement park ride. It’s even better when he talks to himself, too.

Trendy Wendy, a friend of CP’s from college, will tell you of the $20 cupcake they simply HAD to have when she was visiting New York, which of course turned out to be Nilla Wafers, banana pudding, bananas and cool whip – a testament to CP’s obsessive love of sweets AND his secret church-potluck cravings.

When Alex the King remembers the Northridge earthquake, the shaking and the broken plates are overshadowed by CP’s revulsion and embarrassment when “that awful Brad Allen” ate almost a whole jar of Alex’s marionberry jam by continually putting his personal spoon directly in the jar. I think it may be the most grievous violation of etiquette that CP can remember, and was likely the start of his Miss Manners fascination.

Much to the annoyance of their daughters, mothers the world over love CP, even when he bleeds on their floor and requires a trip to the emergency room – something he did to Bob and Judy when he was only four years old. But they still consider him part of their family, as do countless other parents, including my own. CP is like a son to them, and they even throw him birthday parties to prove it. Personally, I think it’s because he’s a bit of a suck-up. But it’s also because he is a kind, engaging person who makes an effort to connect with people.

And then maybe it’s also the spontaneous swing dancing and tap lessons.

But perhaps one of the most telling stories is the one CP’s friend MC emailed me, who carried a piece of paper with his name engraved on it in her wallet for years. She kept it, because on the back he’d scrawled the words, “To thine own self be true.” It may not have always been easy for him, but his life thus far is a testament to following that advice.

CP brings his personality and his eccentricity to his relationship with Poor George, and in it, Poor George has found a soul mate in silliness, and someone to love and support. Poor George once spoke of love with his close friend, June, and told her that love should not be two people trying to find their identity in one another, but instead two people with their own sense of selves, building a bridge to meet in a common place, appreciating, enjoying and supporting each other as they weather the inevitable bumps and difficulties that life puts in their path. And she believes he’s found this with CP. Poor George’s sister Ruby echoes this sentiment. She says that since he’s been with CP, Poor George has been happier, transformed through their connection of love, communication, wine and gourmet food. What more can you wish for someone you love?

This poem was submitted for CP and Poor George by Wonderturtle from the blog circle:

Prayer for a Marriage
Steve Scafidi

When we are old one night and the moon
arcs over the house
like an antique China saucer
and the teacup sun

follows somewhere far behind
I hope the stars deepen to a shine
so bright you could read by it

if you liked and the sadnesses
we will have known go away
for awhile--in this hour or two

before sleep--and that we kiss
standing in the kitchen not fighting
gravity so much as embodying

its sweet force, and I hope we kiss
like we do today knowing so much<
good is said in this primitive tongue

from the wild first surprising ones
to the lower dizzy ten thousand
infinitely slower ones--and I hope

while we stand there in the kitchen
making tea and kissing, the whistle
of the teapot wakes the neighbors.

CP and Poor George have many devoted friends from every era of their lives. And as we’ve watched them come together in the last 11 years, we’ve seen two individuals who found happiness in each other. With Poor George’s culinary talents and CP’s cocktail skills and general hospitality theirs is the most coveted dinner invitation in town. They are honest and open with each other and don’t gloss over the pain and struggles, but they maintain a sense of humor and find joy even when you wonder how they can.

They bicker like fishwives, and have since the day they met – Just ask Cousin Michael, who introduced them. This is especially true in the kitchen, but they always reconcile because they know what things actually matter. And if any of us express concern, they answer, “Oh, we do that all the time. Not to worry.” So we don’t. Because, as their friend VC put it, we see a strong, healthy and loving partnership that allows them to be themselves and love that about the other.

CP and Poor George, as you enter into this formal union, remember it is who you are as individuals that brought you to each other. Your friends E&I give you wise advice when they encourage you to keep driving each other nuts with lots of love so you’ll always know the other one is there. Respect each other, and take time to see one another as the person you fell in love with in the first place. And our wish for you is that you wake up tomorrow morning, smile at each other and know that the good thing you’ve had for so long is only going to get better and better.

KAPPA READS IN RUSSIAN

And finally, this poem was sent by HTW, who is a friend of CP’s from high school. It’s a summary of the questions you’ve asked, what you’ve found in each other, and an invitation to share the joy, heartache and love of your futures.

The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

And now, before they exchange vows and rings, Poor George and CP would like to offer a moment of silence to remember their loved ones who are no longer with us in body, but whom we know are with us today in spirit.

(list of loved ones, including Betty the Cat)

(Silence)
(Alex the King sings)

CP and Poor George have separately developed their vows to the other, and have asked that I read them in front of you today.

CP, in his lawyerly way, has approached this like a contract, with promises to Poor George, and reciprocal conditions.

Poor George,

1) CP promises to allow and encourage you to continue to grow as an individual, and he requests that you are equally committed to us growing as a couple.
2) He promises to make sure you are always surrounded by loving friends and family, and asks that you remember that you are never alone as a couple, but one part of a loving community.
3) He will allow you to get a dog, even though he’s not making a firm commitment on breed just yet, and asks you to at least consider a pound puppy who needs a loving home rather than spending $1000 on some smoosh-faced purebred.
4) CP promises to be supportive when you’re feeling discouraged, disgruntled or otherwise unhappy, and in return, he asks that you remember that he loves you even when he’s having a crabalanche.
5) He will try never to go to bed angry at you, and will not force you to always be the first to apologize, and he wants you to know that when HE apologizes, he really means it.
6) He’ll even give 75% to the relationship, expecting only 25% in return. CP asks that you use your accounting skills to get creative with your own math.
7) CP will not make fun of you for being a total 100% goofball, and begs you never to stop being so silly and childlike.
8) CP promises to love you at least as much as he loves the cats, but asks that you never stop doing your cat imitations.
9) CP vows to try to accept your advice and constructive criticism, and asks you to continue to let him make up his own mind about important personal decisions. And to stop yelling at him in the kitchen when you’re teaching him to cook.<
10) CP promises to remember every day how many things he has to appreciate about you, and to remember how lucky he is. But you have to continue to let him dress you.

CP, is this an accurate summary of your vows?

And Poor George, do you agree to his terms?

CP, here are Poor George’s counter terms for you.

1) Poor George promises you the freedom to pursue your freakish fascination with Mormons, but he’s not going to join the Church of Latter Day Saints, no matter how nicely you ask.
2) Poor George will allow you to continue your repetitive viewings of Cheesy Made For TV Movies and other mass market movies, including but not limited to Not Without My Daughter, Muriel’s Wedding, Sybil, Mommie Dearest and other various Female Rage movies, but he can’t always promise he’ll sit through them with you.
3) He will not raise a stink about you single-handedly supporting Proctor and Gamble and various other health, beauty and pharmaceutical companies, but he reserves the right to stay product-free himself.
4) He promises to leave you to your periods of crippling inactivity on the sofa, but if you start sprouting potato buds you’re going on a hike together.
5) Poor George will not make fun of you when you commit culinary blunders, but he will snicker at baked Worcestershire Sauce with a Dollop of Cheesy Grits.
6) He promises to not abandon you during your crabalanches. In fact, he’s inventing a new sport called crab-skiing. It’s extreme, but he’s willing to ride the wave.
7) It’s OK with Poor George that you have an unusual obsession with cats, and he pledges to help take care of your kitties, too.
8) Poor George will happily provide the sweets for that tooth of yours, but he reserves the right to hide things and make sure you swallow between bites.
9) Poor George will not interfere with your blogging activities, even though they reveal his private life to hundreds of people he’s never met – but asks you to remember that you’ll run out of material if all you do is blog.
10) And most importantly, Poor George promises to care for you, comfort you, keep you company, feed you, shelter you, support you and share his life with you. And he promises this with no ifs, ands, buts or reservations.

Poor George, is this an accurate summary of your vows?

And CP, are these terms acceptable to you?

Then may we have the rings, please.

CP, please repeat after me.

I, CP, take you, Poor George, to be my spouse this day and forevermore. With this ring, I gladly marry you and join my life to yours. It is a symbol of my love, my faith in our strength together, and my promise to learn and grow with you.

Poor George, please repeat after me. I, Poor George, take you, CP, to be my spouse this day and forevermore. With this ring, I gladly marry you and join my life to yours. It is a symbol of my love, my faith in our strength together, and my promise to learn and grow with you.

Gentlemen, by the powers vested in me by the Universal Life Church of the World Wide Web, I pronounce you legally wedded spouses. Now give us a kiss!

Fade to Champagne toasts....and from Katie Schwartz, I read this on behalf of the blogging world:

May the world through each of your eyes remain magnificent and plentiful May your greatest pleasure always be the celebration of each other's individuality and the "we" that you create together. May life's hurdles and obstacles be overcome by looking into each other's eyes and knowing unequivocally that you will always be there for the other. May the simplicity of generosity, kindness, sarcasm and laughter inform every day of your life together. Live out loud—let the world know you’re here. Honor the best of who you are together in your commitment to preserving each other's happiness.

Hiatus

2008-08-11T11:34:00.001-05:00

Hello, all.

I didn't realise it, but I, too seem to be on some sort of hiatus. It's all the leaving activities and the laziness of day to day relaxation, I guess. As it is, I'm soon to be doing a last wander to say goodbye to a few folks and have some fun, and I will be sans computer for the next week. Likely no posts or checking of email until Sunday.

New Blog

2008-08-07T05:31:00.008-05:00

After reading of MnMom's desire to lose weight, I decided that I, too, must start using the power of the internets to shame myself into losing weight. But I don't want to clutter this site up with a bunch of dieting stuff or it will detract from my John-McCain-is-old jokes. Therefore, I have created a new blog called Lard Ass to Tight Ass. I will make it a group blog, and if you'd like to join me you're welcome. I know there are excellent group blogs for health regimes out there. This is not one of them. I anticipate there will be times that I, personally, blog about the deliciousness of chocolate cake. And the joy of lardassing on the sofa. Dieting isn't particularly fun or funny, and what's the point of blogging if you don't even amuse yourself? In fact, if you're reading this and would like to blog about how you keep your muffin top in top form you're welcome to join, too. Perhaps I will be able to stave off cravings by living vicariously through you.

I'm going to make it members only, so you will need to ask me for permission to join. You can do this by emailing me at mygiantbackside@yahoo.co.uk.

You can gain posting status as an author, or you can simply request an opportunity to join as a reader to lend support. I've only made it private to avoid flamers who want to anonymously taunt me (I had enough of that in junior high,) and to block out chubby chasers looking for love. I don't trust men who only date fat women.

Plate o' shrimp, vol 8.

2008-08-05T05:54:00.002-05:00

While sitting on the train this weekend, I heard this guy sitting across the aisle tell his girlfriend that she would "go ape" for the food wherever they were going. She wasn't convinced. When we got off to change trains at Clapham Junction, that same guy slid when he stepped on a banana peel.

17 days left

2008-08-02T05:15:00.002-05:00

1. Obviously, I've become quite attached to this whole numbering format. Though I've strayed a bit lately, it seems this is a formula I can stick with. It makes it a lot easier to blog, because random thoughts can all go in the same entry. But I feel like I've lost my edge. My ability to spin a yarn. Hmmm.
2. I have excellent bedhead today. I wish I could get my hair to do this every day.
3. There's fine mist blowing about. So fine it looks like snow, but of course it's not since it's 60 degrees out. Great day for a barbeque! Which is what I'm doing this afternoon.
4. We went out to celebrate C's last day of work last night. It was a quiet night out in Horsham. We did meet one guy who demanded a hug when we walked past (we obliged,) but there were no rowdy yob-types in sight. It hardly felt like England.
5. There were, however, many men wearing shockingly strong cologne. Nice to know some things remain the same.
6. I think it's odd that cooking shows have appliances they'll never need on the counters behind them. There's an expensive espresso machine, a malt maker, a meat grinder and a fruit press behind them on Saturday Kitchen. There's no need for this. We all know that they're not going to teach us to make a cup of coffee some morning. A malt, on the other hand, would be a tasty treat. Perhaps someday they'll make a mochaccino bologna malt with fresh grapefruit juice. Yum.
7. Do you have the Beijing Olympics cartoon ad that has that creepy monkey with the many sharp teeth, or is that just a Beeb thing? If that guy is competing, I'm not watching. He scares me. Okay. I used the Google to answer my own question, and it's a BBC thing designed by the Gorillaz guy. Whom I dig. But as afar as I'm concerned, this is not on.
8. We have like a 75 hour train trip to get to our barbecue. I wish it were sunny.
9. Or even just warm.
10. But it's not.

Animal Planet

2008-07-30T17:40:00.002-05:00

Why aren't all nature programs like this?

Hey, Baby

2008-07-30T12:01:00.004-05:00

I'm making a watermelon feta salad to go with the tofu burgers tonight, and I needed to pick up a few things. I had a nice stroll into town, drank a coffee and restocked my book options, then went to Sainsburys.

Keiren was picking me up, so I stood in front of the store to wait for his arrival. I'm wearing knee length jean shorts and a baggy mens-ish shirt and sandals. And holding a watermelon. Which made me think, "Hey! I'm just like Baby! You can't put me in the corner!" And I did a little merengue in my head.

If I'd been standing next to a ginger, I'm sure people would have noticed the similarity, and probably pointed. I just hope my hair wasn't as puffy.

I really need to start working again.

Make these

2008-07-28T17:31:00.002-05:00

Seriously, they're delicious.

If I were a cat

2008-07-28T17:04:00.003-05:00

The other day I saw the dorkiest, clumsiest cat ever.

It was a bit fat, and it wanted to get to a shed roof to sun itself. So it struggled to claw it's way up the side of the fence. It finally made it. "It's smooth sailing now, my friend," or so I thought.

After a few seconds' pause to steady itself, it did this awkward claw/crawl along the top of the fence and the rail just below the edge that keeps the fence slats upright. It had to stop mid-way, seemingly to catch its breath and balance. Eventually, Lard Kitty made it to the side of the shed, and did a gingerly side step and crawl maneuver that moved it up on its destination, and then it collapsed in a heap, its chest heaving while it relaxed in the sun.

I think I'm going to go for a run tomorrow. Could probably do with a little exercise

Against the tide

2008-07-28T10:20:00.002-05:00

I know this is going to make me very unpopular in blogland, but I'm here to tell you that, while bacon is delicious and chocolate is might-ee-fine, combining bacon and chocolate is just asking for trouble. In fact, bacon and chocolate sounds nasty. Especially bacon and white chocolate, which has no bite at all and would simply dilute the smoky goodness. No, I'm even willing to go out on a ledge and say that putting bacon and chocolate together is a downright bad idea.

I also think bacon martinis make no sense and that a bacon trifle would also be disgusting. Bacon and jello might work, but only if there were carrots and celery in the mix, too, and probably only with the lighter, more refreshing jellos of the orange/lime/lemon variety as they would give a better balance.

I know. I'm a rebel. But I will not stand by and allow this rampant bacon lust to continue without a sanity check.

Getting down to business

2008-07-28T09:14:00.010-05:00

1. So today, I have to get a little more serious. I've been revising my resume to get rid of the UK spellings and to have a US address. In a bit I'm also going to make a marketing manager version of it to use for comms jobs, all ready for sending out tomorrow. Wouldn't want to do too much in one day.
2. I have developed a serious love of the show Flight of the Conchords. K&C have the first season on DVD, and we started watching it for kicks this weekend. Good lord, that's funny.

3. My youngest nephew's little league team just won the Minnesota championships. They're on to Indianapolis next weekend to play in the Midwest Regionals, next stop the Little League World Series. He's pitching this year, and I see by the game summaries his hitting doesn't suck, either. I wonder if he's watching The Bad News Bears to prepare? Or maybe that lame movie about an angel in the outfield. (Duh. Everyone knows angels don't play baseball.) I just hope he's doing something. I mean, training is important. The team from his town did well last year, but ended their run is dishonor with the whole spit-shake scandal of aught seven. Let's hope the lecture his auntie gave him about unsportsmanlike behavior making him look like a doorknob sunk in.
4. Yesterday was a picture perfect day. We had a relaxing morning, then took a picnic to the park to sit in the shade and read papers. Horsham's city park is huge and really pretty. We found a nice spot by the duck pond and went through the FT, The Times, The Independent and the Observer. There was a geezer brass band playing in the band shell, and occasionally the wind would catch the music and we'd hear wafts of a Jesus Christ Superstar medley. It's just too bad there weren't dancing zealots and lepers. Now THAT would have been a Sunday in the park.
5. Upon contemplation, I've realized there are two songs that have contributed to my decision to leave the UK and return to home shores. And it's pretty embarrassing, really. One is that Kid Rock song about teenage summers by the lake in northern Michigan, and the other is Dolly Parton's new single about getting (or should that be gettin') to livin'/g. I'm obviously very impressionable right now. Best keep Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses far far away.
6. Every time I make or hear mention of cults, it always brings to mind one of my favorite memories of childhood. We were with my grandmother in Waterloo, it was night, and we were waiting in the car while my mom ran into a store. And for some reason we were afraid that Moonies might come and knock on the window. I don't know, maybe there were some milling around or something, but I vividly remember keeping an eye out for brainwashed zombies, and worrying that someone would tie me to a chair and try to make me give up Jesus.
7. This is not a favorite memory because it's a happy one that I cherish. I have those, too, but this particular one is a favorite because it's so random.
8. For what it's worth, I remember learning about the Jonestown massacre while I was flipping through a Time magazine at piano lessons waiting for my brother to finish his turn. There were pictures of all these dead bodies laying around the compound with kool aid stains on their shirts. I believe it must have been either grape or possibly one of the reds, such as cherry, because the stains looked like blood splattered everywhere. I remember being much more shocked at the thought of these hideous kool aid stains than at the mass death of the scene. I mean, that grape kool aid is a bitch to get out of whites. Every time someone uses the "clever" drink-the-kool aid analogy I conjure this little gem up, as well, and then wonder if I have enough Spray and Wash at home. The subconscious mind is a wacky, wacky thing.
9. How can it be a quarter to four? That's nuts.
10. I'm only here for three more weeks. Weird.

Adventures of the unemployed

2008-07-24T07:45:00.003-05:00

1. While I'm waiting for the movers to arrive in MK, I have been killing time at Gloria Jean's coffee in the Hub:mk. I wouldn't be one to go to a Gloria Jean's in the US. I associate them with those naff flavored coffees like hazelnut and amaretto creme. (I hate flavored coffees. A lot.) But here they have a nice atmosphere, free wifi, they play decent music and the coffee is excellent. They do a proper leaf pattern on the top, always the hallmark of a barista that knows what they're doing. They also make iced tea, which you can't find ANYWHERE in the UK, and which is one of my favorite things to drink on a hot day. I give a big thumbs up to Gloria Jean's in MK.
2. My friends Justin and Alexa have the best dog. Her name is Camilla, or Millie for short, and she is a Yorkshire Terrier. Now, I am not a fan of the tiny yippy dog. But this dog is sweet and funny and very smart. She has the most expressive face and she has a big personality and when she climbs all over you you hardly even notice it because she weighs practically nothing. She has this green stuffed animal that is bigger than she is. She carries/rolls it around the room and loves it when you try to grab it away from her. She'll grab on and growl and let you toss her around, and then lets go and insists that you throw it so she can fetch. It's great fun. She also has a tendency to hump the thing now and again, which is puzzling but there you have it.
3. She also moves very fast, and will crawl up you and start licking your face so fast that you get a tongue in your nose or mouth before your reflexes can reach up and pull her off.
4. Here in the Hub there is a fountain in the middle, surrounded by six or so restaurants with outdoor seating. It's a great place to be when the sun is out, and excellent people watching. Above the restaurants there are about eight floors of apartments. I think they should have taken a bit more time vetting the people who moved in to these, as they seem to have allowed some pretty raunchy folks in. There is one guy that I refer to as pathetic-drunken-stroke-guy, as he always has that out-of-it look that only alcoholics who never sober up have, and he walks with a cane as though he's recovering from a stroke. When he walks into the Brazilian restaurant they don't even ask - they just pour him a huge glass of red wine. You often see him step outside for a cigarette, but then he's back drinking another. He has this vaguely creepy/vapid perma-grin, and no matter what time of the day or night you are here you'll see him with a glass of wine. He depresses me.
5. Since I've been homeless, I've spent quite a bit of time here at the Hub. Cafe Rouge, a chain French restaurant, has great outside seating and makes a mean breakfast so I come here to read the paper and fortify. I am particularly fond of their Crouque Madame, which is basically a ham and Gruyere sandwich with a bit of bechamel and an egg. Mmm. Perfect with a glass of tomato juice.
6. I'm having a lot of trouble getting rid of my UK spellings. I've been trying, but those extra u's and replacement s's have become commonplace. Now when I write "favor" or "color" or "alphabetize" it looks wrong. I never did really cotton to the whole "re" versus "er" thing, though, so that one is not a problem. I also realise (I mean realize) that I'm going to have to stop saying things like, "I quite like..." and using proper as substitution for real/good/actual/authentic.
7. I wonder why there aren't any Taco Bells in the UK.
8. I'm trying to read a Terry Pratchett book. Everyone raves about Terry Pratchett. Oh, he's so funny. Oh, he's so clever. Oh, he's just great. Oh, he's my guilty pleasure. Thus far, I don't really see the appeal. I mean, it's not horrible. It's just not wowing me. (Imagine a squinty shrug and a "meh")
9. I could really use some new summer clothes.
10. It's a lot easier to eat healthily and get exercise when you don't work. And don't mean kind of easier. I mean a LOT easier. You can make it the focus of your existence instead of something you fit in between meetings.

Relaxing in the English sun

2008-07-23T15:58:00.006-05:00

1. I spent my birthday relaxing in the garden. Read papers, drank coffee, soaked up some sun. It was lovely. When they were done working for the day, Kieren and Corrie and I split a bottle of champagne. Or rather Corrie and I did. Then they took me to dinner at a lovely Italian restaurant. came home, had more champagne and sat in the garden chatting. It was a lovely day.

2. They have one of those strange wand things in the shower, much like the enema looking thing at the Royalton. This morning, I learned that if you accidentally turn it on when you're just trying to turn on the rain shower it will spray you in the face. It is surprising.

3. I burned my forearm on a wok, but didn't realise it until today when the blister popped.

4. Took the train to London and then on to Milton Keynes. I'm staying here tonight and tomorrow, having dinner with friends and meeting the movers when they come pick up my stuff. I have one last chance to rescue some favourite things from the two month exile. Thinking I may need to grab the first few seasons of Curb Your Enthusiasm as K&C have not seen it.

5. How's this for odd...I often call Kieren "KB", his initials. And I call my friend Karen "KB", too - HER initials. And now I typed K&C for Kieren and Corrie, their initials. And I have a very close friend named KC - HER initials. Talk about a plate o' shrimp.

6. I just finished a book called The Post Birthday World by Lionel Shriver. Don't read it. It sucked. The only things to like about it were the really bad approximation of a cockney accent, which was laughable, and the fact that eventually it ended. It was one of those books that you read and you are on page 200 and you can basically predict the remainder of the plot. Which is compounded by the fact that it uses this parallel universe plot device wherein about chapter two she decides to kiss/not to kiss a man who is not her partner, and so the rest of the book has two of each chapter so you can see the two paths side by side and compare how her decision impacted her life. I liked Sliding Doors so I figured this might be okay. It was not. I found the characters flat, the writing stilted and obvious, and at times I felt like some metaphorical hammer was slamming me in the temple to make sure I got her point.

7. It was lovely and warm today. Really just a perfect summer day.

8. I forgot that I needed to add Adrian Brody to the sexy man list. Which means I should probably remove someone. So I'm taking off Clooney. He'd frighten me in real life anyway. Smooth men intimidate me.

9. There is a great program called 10 Years Younger, where they do massive makeovers of people who look much older than they actually are. They gauge their age by having them stand in the street before and after the makeover and let 100 people guess their age. Often there are women who are younger than me who look like they're 60. It's shocking. You get fashion, makeup and hair tips AND you get to see the plastic surgery. It's awesome. As you might guess, many of them have very bad teeth.

10. It's supposed to be sunny tomorrow, too. Perhaps I'll relax and sit in the sun while I read the newspaper. That would be delightful.

Now THAT'S some foreign policy

2008-07-23T03:40:00.006-05:00

Nothing says, "I'm a seasoned diplomat who will raise our standing in the world and gain global consensus for the war on terror," like a grotesque stereotype of a European power used to taunt your press entourage into hating the other guy.

Seriously, who in the McCain campaign is that stupid? The joke might actually be funny if it appeared as an op ed cartoon from a neutral source. Because it IS kind of funny that normal journalists with months on the Obama campaign have been kicked off so Katie Couric and that annoying Charlie Gibson can get a holiday abroad. And who doesn't find a Frenchie in an ill-fitting beret and a neckerchief amusing? About the only thing that would make that funnier is if he talked like Kevin Kline when he's pretending to be French. Or maybe a talking frog wearing an ill-fitting beret and neckerchief and speaking with a fake French accent. Now THAT'S comedy.

Unfortunately, coming from inside the McCain camp, this is not funny -it's worrying. My guess is that some staffer who watches a lot of late night TV comedy came up with a joke, and the entire campaign is so out of touch with the real world that they thought they could go for the laugh and be as popular with the kids these days as that whipper snapper Stephen Colbert. (Message = See, John McCain isn't that old...he's down with the satire, yo. Word.)

Yes, these sorts of diplomatic skills will work wonders with our foreign colleagues. Glad to know all that experience is giving us dividends, Gramps. And nice touch telling the few remaining press that might still be sympathetic to you that they're a bunch of no-account losers. I'm sure that will endear you to them, as it illustrates that you're on their side. Perhaps for your next press conference you can make a pass with a picture of some redneck in front of his foreclosed house drinking a Coors (not a Bud now that them Belgians bought it,) and he can be whining about the price of gas. That's a really funny way to remind people that Barack Obama doesn't like them and is responsible for the oil crisis. (Which is all in their mind, according to Phil Gramm. I mean, seriously, people. Buck up.)

Just tell us you're running with Tim Pawlenty to get a few minutes of coverage and then ride this thing out. He'll be back from his trip next week and things will go back to normal.

Oh. And no, it doesn't make you look at all bitter that the other guy is getting more attention. Nope. Not even a little. Seriously. Why would I lie?

Sexy Men

2008-07-22T05:42:00.017-05:00

Occasionally I see tags out there wherein people denote the 10 sexiest actors/singers/etc. I don't usually do these. But today I feel like blogging but I haven't had enough coffee, so here I go. Giving you a window to my soul. In no particular order we have:

1. Ryan Gosling - both handsome AND a Mormon (though perhaps lapsed, therefore no funny underpants.)

2. Jack Black - hubba hubba.

3. Brad Garrett - My he's tall. And dark.

4. Chow Yun Fat - Because I've always wanted a boyfriend who could fly.

5. George Clooney - Don't hate him because he's beautiful. He didn't ask to be born that way.

6. Johnny Depp - I mean, come on. Does he EVER not make one of these lists?

7. Mark Ruffalo - whiny, gruff, a little slurred, scruffy, sweet and sorta brainy all in one.

8. Peter Krause - I know, I know. He's totally off type. Blond, from Minnesota, Scandinavian. Alas, I can't help myself. He's divine.

9. Sacha Baron Cohen - not only is he handsome, but he is quite simply the most daring person in modern times. Question that? Watch that naked fight scene from Borat one more time.

10. Steve Carrell - I mean, look at that. He's posing with garden gnomes. Swoon.

And honorable mention goes to #11 Robert Redford - because old habits die hard.

New Tools

2008-07-22T04:45:00.003-05:00

From the Washington Post on May 21, 2008:

Dear Miss Manners:

How does one go about introducing a new eating utensil?

I have great problems eating pizza, onion soup and spaghetti neatly. What I need is a delicate pair of scissors, which would be called "cheese scissors." They could resemble the small scissors that hairdressers use. On the place setting, they could be placed to the right of the knife.

How can I go about making these scissors acceptable? Shall I just buy a pair and start using them?

It seems to me that discreetly cutting the cheese string would be much more ladylike than pulling a long string of cheese or wrapping it around my finger until it finally breaks. What do you think?

Obviously, the gentle reader is a certified genius. I mean, a fish knife looks nice but doesn't necessarily assist in eating. But a cheese scissors...now THAT is a useful table implement. Nothing burns like a string of hot cheese slapping an unsuspecting chin. And all that flinging of sauce as the string flies from plate to mouth. One dare not wear white on such occasions. I'm going to Boots to buy a full set, and will be using them every chance I get.

Miss Manners came out in favor, with a bit of snark, of course.

Unemployment

2008-07-21T15:56:00.004-05:00

NOW NEW AND IMPROVED THROUGH THE MAGIC OF PROOFREADING!

1. After a mad scramble, I FINALLY got my belongings narrowed to shippable plus three suitcases and a carry on. You have no idea how hard it is to narrow all of your belongings to three suitcases of things for the foreseeable future. It's safe to say that these are the only things I will have access to for the next six weeks, possibly even the next two to three months - all depending upon how quickly they fill the rest of my shipping container. Work clothes, winter clothes and things I don't wear more than once a month went in the ship section. Summer clothes, interview clothes and things I would hate to have lost at sea went in the suitcases. I have a really good red and off white zipper cardigan that I've had for over 10 years. We had a soulful moment, even shed a tear as we were saying goodbye.
2. The people on Location, Location tonight are lottery winners who want to buy a house with their winnings. The woman in the couple has bought an obscene number of ridiculously expensive handbags and is burning through the money like it's kindling. I'm judging her. Judgity, judge, judge judge. Not that I have anything against obscene numbers of expensive handbags. I have something against someone else buying them AND having a spare million ££ for buying a fancy house.
3. I am rethinking all the blond highlight/halo lights that I had put in my hair last month. I think I'm too blond now. I want my chestnutty dark hair back. I like my chestnutty dark hair. In fact, damn my head for going totally grey and denying me my lovely chestnutty dark hair. Dare me to say chestnutty again? Chestnutty. HA!
4. On Sunday, I moved to Horsham with my friends Kieren and Corrie, and will remain here for the remainder of my time in the UK. I'll be travelling around a bit because there are lots of folks I need to see before I leave, but this is now my base. Therefore they inherited the spices and groceries and other things from the kitchen that I've been carrying around since I left Nadine's. We have the makings of a good hot and sour soup, various Penzey's spice blends and a box of Old Bay, and the makings of delicious pasta and chili and even a good chicken mole. I'm thanking them for their hospitality by helping with the cooking. Today I made a fish pate to have in the fridge for snacking and I whipped up a nice supper 0f caramelized salmon with stir fried greens on the side.
5. I brought an embarrassingly large amount of alcohol with me. I haven't been drinking much of late, and so I have three years of various accumulated whiskeys and vodkas and liqueurs that needed a new home. Last night I made delicious cranberry appletinis. Tonight I made manhattans with a hint of peach. I wonder if I can make a different cocktail every night I'm here?
6. Tomorrow is my birthday. I have no plans. Not sure what I'm going to do, but I'm sure it will be lovely.
7. I spent today reading newspapers in the sun while I sipped a couple cups of coffee, then I showered and strolled the 20 minutes to town for a little look around and another cup of coffee in the sun. People here obviously haven't had an American in these parts for awhile. They were quite curious about what brought me to their little town and what I think of England. I got big laughs when they'd ask me where I was from and I'd say Milton Keynes (it's renowned as an "American" style city, except with chavs. I was even wearing a hoodie.)
8. What since big sunglasses are all the fashion these days, I bought me some monsters at TK Maxx the other day. (Yes, it's like TJ Maxx except here.) They're Marc Jacobs. They're silver with purple gradient lenses. Depending upon my mood, I either feel extremely glamorous or like a giant bug. And the giant case takes up too much space in my purse. But MY am I the height of cool.
9. I don't really care for the v-neck sweater on men. It's the new hip thing to wear a v-neck sweater over a v-neck t-shirt, which gives us all a nice little glance at the chest hair and a figure hugging look at the pecks and abs of the wearer, as well. It seems very International Male to me. I will say, though, it's worse when they don't wear the t-shirt. I'm not a fan of the look. Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against a bit of chest hair. But this particular look annoys me.
10. I'm glad I don't have a perm.

A Saturday night in Milton Keynes smells like Lynx and meadow fresh feminine hygiene products

2008-07-19T16:25:00.002-05:00

Oh my. Even on a windy evening with hundreds of people smoking in the night air, the five minute walk from a restaurant to my hotel gave me a headache from the cheap cologne. I have never, ever smelled such a melange of buck-two-eighty pheromone scents in my life.

I wonder if they actually work? You'd think they'd eventually cancel each other out and everyone would just end up confused. Not to mention nauseated.

Or perhaps this explains the nonsensical fighting in the streets.

Profanity

2008-07-19T09:41:00.002-05:00

I apologize if you haven't seen my little UK visit in your site meter lately. For the last few weeks my primary (and only) blog access has been at work.

And let's face it. Some of you people swear an awful lot. Which is fine, unless the internet police are looking for dodgy sites accessed during working hours. In fact, one of you got me a little warning on my second to last day.

Thanks, Chris.

Snobs

2008-07-17T07:04:00.002-05:00

A liberal "think tank" here in the UK has asked for the banning of the word "chav" from pop parlance. They say it shows extreme loathing for the working class.

Personally, I think their recommendation shows extreme loathing for the working class. Certainly they are correct that being called a chav is seldom seen or meant as a compliment. But not all working class people are chavs. Chavs are showy, loud and drunk, and they are proud of their ignorance and readily display their bad manners and lack of common sense to anyone in their immediate vicinity. They are the English equivalent of trailer trash. And like trailer trash, they are a unique breed - not a complete representation of those from blue collar backgrounds.

By suggesting that chav is equivalent to working class, the think tank seems to be saying that they think anyone without money, education or position is a loud, obnoxious boor in track bottoms and too-tight-trousers covered cheap cologne and lots of fake jewelry. Talk about an insult.

Oh, how the mighty

2008-07-17T04:04:00.004-05:00

VS.

How sad to go from beloved wacky sidekick to creepy boob-staring candidate for Bub's Weenie-Waver Wedensday?

I guess with a name like Andy Dick he never really had a chance.

Personally, I never did like the cut of his jib.

He and Molly Shannon should never be allowed near each other for the good of humanity.

Inner conflict, vol. 2

2008-07-15T09:17:00.002-05:00

Point: I will not miss, not even a little bit, the toilets in restaurants in the UK. In the winter they are not heated, and you risk freezing your butt to the toilet. They are often up stairs or in far off areas of the building, and it can be a major effort to hike to the loo. I once went to a little french place with my friends Susan and Patricia that required you go up stairs, down a hallway, across a catwalk and then up a few more steps to get to the ladies. And while the trek certainly works off calories, woe be to anyone who drinks a bit to much wine and needs to take a wee. Especially if they've worn taller shoes than usual.

Counterpoint: I love gastropubs. They're often in picturesque settings and they have delightfully varied menus and often have nibbles and bits that can make for a perfect convivial evening of grazing and sipping wine and talking smart. They serve you reasonable servings of food (not gargantuan ones that could feed a family of four) and the food is delicious. There is a comfortable ease to gastropubs that you don't find as easily in the US.

They stole my line

2008-07-15T05:18:00.002-05:00

My family has a tendency to absent-mindedly eat, or to eat with reckless abandon and passionate fervor - be it out of stress, joy, pain, nervousness, celebration or even boredom, when you're hanging with my family, at some point a little snack like a snitched pickle or olive turns into a strap-on-the-feedbag gnoshfest that will make outsiders fear for their lives (or at least limbs.) And it isn't just a genetic trait. We seem to gravitate towards like-minded ubersnackers - my sister-in-law is like this, Tom is like this, and virtually all friends close enough to attend a function in the inner sanctum exhibit this trait. (And don't you all get pious on me. Take a look at the size of your asses and then tell me you don't mindlessly snack on occasion.)

When my dad was in hospice last year, Tom was making margaritas and we were eating a perfectly healthy meal. And then about an hour after dinner I decided that I wanted a nibble. Which turned into cheese and crackers. Which turned into two boxes of triscuits and two blocks of cheese, plus some garlic stuffed olives and dill pickles being inhaled by my brother/sister-in-law/nephews/mother/Tom/the Poodle/me. The next day, when dad had had a fitful night and we were all a bit panicked, the food came out again and I proclaimed, "Let the horking begin!" Horking was a made up word. Something that just came out of my mouth. It's become a family joke, and I made t-shirts for my nephews last Christmas that have the family phrase across the chest. We thought it was an inside joke. And the people at Neighborhoodies hadn't heard of it. Two people asked me what it meant.

And now it's in the Wiktionary. And they use the word in Ratatouille. And in the Urban Dictionary they claim it means to snort a lot of cocaine, which is so not correct.

I should have gotten a copyright on it. The rat bastards.

Inner conflict, vol. 1

2008-07-15T05:01:00.003-05:00

Point: I will not miss the stuff that passes for pizza in the UK. The crust is often the correct combo of chewy crispness, but the sauce they use is miserable. It's like they open a can of chopped tomatoes or tomato sauce and use it with no seasoning, not even salt and pepper. I like me a zesty, herby kick. It ruins the whole thing for me. It is also traditional to eat the pizza with a knife and fork. No slices. Everyone orders their own 9" pizza, and you cut it like a steak. At the very least, I like to eat a triangular slice with my hands. Even better if it's tiny little squares, allowing one to hoover vast quantities of pizza without the guilt of knowing how much you've eaten. (That is obviously a deep-rooted value established through constant exposure to Mabe's as a child.) Nope. Pizza in the UK is just so so. And I'm moving to CHICAGO, where they have a whole style of pizza named after them. Rock on.

Counterpoint: I will miss the chocolates. Even cheap chocolate is good here. Don't get me wrong. I know there are exceptional chocolates available in the US. Certainly there is merit in a dark chocolate bar spiced with bits of cayenne made by a small local chocalatier. But sometimes you want mass produced deliciousness in quantity, and Cadbury makes Russell Stover and Whitman's look like by-products from a child's plastic kitchen set.

In defense of Mamma Mia

2008-07-13T09:41:00.002-05:00

Many critics in the UK are panning Mamma Mia. They are saying that it's over the top and silly and completely falls flat.

I disagree. Whole-heartedly, by the way.

Let's get one thing straight. The musical was never about good dialogue and strong acting. It was a story of stilted dialogue and silliness intended to help move from one Abba song to another. It never had the complexity of Wicked or the subversiveness of Avenue Q or the social commentary of Rent. It didn't even have the depth you find in an Oscar and Hammerstein or Lerner/Lowe classic. It was, is, and always will be High School Musical with middle aged protagonists. While we have all seen more intense, nuanced and dramatic performances from the actors involved, this is not Sophie's Choice or Pride and Prejudice. Or even Cybil. This is an all singing, all dancing tribute to one of the best pop bands ever, and I think they all delivered a funny, sing-along performance that deserves commendation. In fact, I think Meryl Streep is amazing. Talk about range....she can go from dingoes eating her baby and holocaust horror to being a fiendish fashion editor and a hippie mom who makes vibrator jokes and a voice that can even tackle The Winner Takes It All. Now THAT is talent.

So quit your high-brow griping and let it be exactly what it is. A great way to wile away some time on a summer's evening.

The week in review

2008-07-13T07:34:00.002-05:00

1. Have consolidated all belongings into shippable and packed for carrying. My return ticket is booked for August 19th, and on the 31st they pick up my belongings.
2. I am vagabonding from place to place, never staying anyplace more than three or four nights so as not to outstay my welcome. This is a pain in the ass, FYI.
3. On Friday, 1330 kids under my direction broke the world record for the Longest Game of Chinese Whispers. We go in the book, unless someone else does it before publication.
4. We've also raised £120,000 for charity, which is not the official total since we're still raising money.
5. Next Friday, I become an unemployed slacker for the foreseeable future. Haven't done that since February 1998. It is both terrifying and exciting.
6. Big moves make me wish I wasn't such a people person. Once I make the decision to move on, the regrets always revolve around missing people, and they have kicked in once again. I'm still moving to Chicago, but now that the wheels are in motion I am both excited to get home to my friends and family in the US and weepy at the thought of leaving the ones here.
7. I never thought I'd get to the stage where I craved settling down so much. Not the whole spouse/kids kind of settling down. I just want to sit on my sofa again, which is exceptionally comfortable and currently being wasted in a storage crate in Eden Prairie. And I want to unpack my stuff and not go anywhere for awhile. I long to be comfortable. Adventure and seeking one's fortune is great, but it is never "comfortable". And that's never bugged me before, but it is now.
8. One of the things I am most looking forward to is going out to dinner with my brother and my youngest nephew the night after I get back to the states. By sheer coincidence, Bob and Nick are in Chicago on a baseball pilgrimage at the same time I'm arriving, and so I step right in to one of the perks of moving to the midwest. Proximity to family. I always enjoy spending time with my brother and his family, and it will be especially fun to see Nick in the midst of a baseball tour - he is a complete geek for all things baseball, and he's on the local Little League all-star team this summer so I'm sure he will have many extremely dramatic tales to tell of saves at the plate and strike outs. Nick is a spinner of tall tales, bless him. He's also the nephew most fascinated by the travelling I do and the urban life I have in contrast to his family's suburban one...he's been fascinated by cities for as long as I can remember, and unless his teenage years are squeezing all the enthusiasm out of him, he will think it's pretty awesome to be visiting me in my new home. Which will make him spazzy and animated even if he IS trying to be cool, which always makes me laugh hard.
9. I'm at a little coffee shop, and a girl just walked past wearing shorts that were so short they looked like denim underpants, or maybe those little denim diaper covers that moms buy their babies to make it look like they're wearing designer jeans. To her credit, though, they did not have a cheek hanging out of the bottom like many of the hotpants wearers do these days.
10. The first thing I'm buying when I get my first paycheck in the US is a Wii system with Wii Fit, Rock Band and Guitar Hero.

Sheesh, you people sure ask a lot of questions

2008-07-05T08:31:00.002-05:00

11. There's NOTHING wrong with the Twin Cities. They're great. And I love you people who live there. The thing is, in theory living in the Twin Cities is a good idea. For me, though, in practice it isn't a good thing. I'm not happy there, even though there are many things I like about the place. So I'm electing to live within striking distance of regular weekend visits.
12. Yes, more fat people is definitely one of the pluses of moving to the Midwest.
13. No, I haven't considered moving back to Decorah. Whilst it is a pretty town with an excellent natural food coop, a thriving farmer's market and numerous high-calibre restaurants, I prefer to live in places with international airports, less parking and more crime. Even the Culver's won't sway me.
14. Of COURSE I'll come to Minneapolis to see the Little House on the Prairie musical. What kind of stupid question is that?
15. I appreciate the offer, but I'm not leaving the UK because I'm not married so it isn't really a solution to anything. Or perhaps you're asking me so you can get a green card and move stateside as well? Which is illegal, so the answer is still no. But I appreciate the gesture.
16. I suppose that, if I got the best job offer ever someplace else, I might consider someplace other than Chicago. But for now the mind is firmly made up.

Answers to questions from Wednesday's #10

2008-07-04T04:30:00.003-05:00

1. No, I have not gotten a job in Chicago. I just decided that while I'm looking, I might as well use this opportunity to settle somewhere for awhile. And Chicago seems like a good place. I hear they have hot dogs AND pizza.
2. Yes, I do love London, and would have been very happy staying here. But ultimately, getting a fancy job in the UK and making a bunch of money and living in London isn't really moving forward, it's extending this period of my life. If I wanted to live here forever I'd do it, but since I want to come back to the US eventually it just seems like postponing to wait a year or two. So here I go. Keeping on the edge so I don't take up too much room.
3. Yes, I WILL miss the UK. A lot. I have made some phenomenal friends here. Really fine people. You'll like them. But there are lots of flights to and from Chicago. Like 20 non-stops from LHR a day or something. So I'll still see them. I mean, I've managed four years away from all of you. Now it's their turn.
4. Other than the people, I think I'll miss walking along South Bank. It has great views of landmarks, an excellent book market under Waterloo Bridge, lot of great people watching and some fine cafes. I'll miss Robinson's Fruit & Barley with no sugar added. I'll miss PG Tips, and I'll miss the BBC. Marmite, not so much.
5. I won't miss the weird electricity, driving on the left side of the road or YOBs.
6. I'll visit you in MSP but for me it's not really a good place, so, no, I'm not moving to the Twin Cities. And you can quote me on that.
7. You're totally welcome to visit as soon as I'm settled, but that will probably be at least this fall. I'm going to sleep on my friend Bethany's couch until I find a job, and then we'll be getting a place with plenty of space for guests. Once we're there, you're more than welcome.
8. I think I'm most looking forward to having a big midwestern apartment with good closet space, spending time with my family and just relaxing with all of you. And getting to know a new city. I like exploring and finding cool things about new places that I'm calling home. And I've been hoping to meet the Bubses for years now, so once I'm settled I'm asking them out.
9. Yes, The Special People Club will remain - though this started as a way to keep friends and family posted about things in my life when I moved to the UK, it has become something else now. Plus there are still friends and family to keep updated who live far away.
10. No, I haven't considered taking The Club to the next level and becoming a professional blogger, but it's nice of you to ask. The Special People Club is exclusive. We wouldn't want to let in the riff raff.

Fast 10 on Wednesday

2008-07-02T05:34:00.004-05:00

1. I've moved. My things are in storage. My back is sore.
2. Last weekend in London I saw a family of gingers that justified the prejudice often shown them in the UK. Oh my, were they pale. And such vibrant orange hair. It was like looking at the Weasley's.
3. I think that advertising a care home for people with Alzheimer's and dementia with the slogan "Simply Unforgettable" is tacky.
4. I had a lovely Sunday evening with Timmy in the Big Smoke. We had a few cocktails before dinner, namely "White Ladies", which are a delicious nectar of gin, cointreau and lemon juice with a cherry in the bottom. They are shaken until frothy - I think there was a little egg white in there, too, because they practically have a meringue on the top. Beautiful and very tasty. But when you order them, it sounds better if you say "white LAdy" as opposed to "WHITE lady." The latter sounds like an order at the Chicken Ranch, not a swank bar in London.
5. There's a McVitties cake and biscuit factory near the tracks right as the train gets into Euston. On Sunday they were baking something that smelled like raspberry tartlets. It was divine, and made me crave a crumble.
6. Note to Grumpy McCain - the election is not, in fact, about trust. The election is about the economy, and the war, and the balance of the court and about 100 other really pressing issues. Trust is something entirely different. Trustworthiness is a quality one would like to have in a president, as are good judgement, intelligence, courage, kindness and sincerity. And I, for one, TRUST Barack Obama to do things the way I would like them done. You, on the other hand, will call me friend through that cheshire cat smile and don't know how to use the internet, which scares me.
7. No matter how many times McCain's people claim Gen. Wesley Clark was bad-mouthing or discrediting McCain's service, it doesn't make it so. If you actually READ what Clark said, he praised the Senator's service and personal sacrifice. He praised his character. What he questioned was whether valiant service equates to good judgement and wise foreign policy. And I agree with Gen. Clark...in Mr. McCain's case, I'm not so sure I've seen evidence that it does. Therefore running around claiming that your military service qualifies you to be Commander in Chief does not compute. I went to high school with a nice guy named Bill who joined the military, and I hear he did pretty well there. But he failed American Studies. Twice. I don't really think he's qualified to be president. (And don't sic your Truth Squad on me. I'm not claiming YOU failed American Studies. B*****man did.)
8. I also find it funny that Mr. McCain's "Truth Squad " (which sounds very Pol Pot to me, but never mind,) expressed their outrage at Gen. Clark's supposed discounting of McCain's service by immediately bad-mouthing Gen. Clark's. (And there's a few John Kerry swift boaters amongst them, as well.) So it seems that the rule is that military service means jack. You just can't say bad things about John McCain's.
9. FYI, if you don't have noodles on hand you can use pad thai seasoning/sauce to make a passable risotto, ,especially if you have shrimp and spring onions and some sprouts and a lime.
10. I have it on good authority that sometime in August there's going to be a new Chicago-land blogger in the family.

I hate chain mail

2008-06-26T15:51:00.001-05:00

1. I hate chain mail. My friend Marina forwarded me this stupid Chinese proverb thing promising exceptional luck. Or not. I didn't forward it. I mean, those things suck.
2. The next day, I got a call from the woman I was going to move in with...the woman who was moving out had changed her mind indefinitely. So no room for me. Two nights before I was due to move in.
3. I've had some promising conversations with an alum about job hunting, and her offer of help got postponed...she's swamped, and it's going to take at least two weeks, maybe more, before she can even speak to me.
4. My work project got kind of mucked up. Not horribly so, but enough to be frustrating.
5. So I tried to think what it could be. And I remembered the chain mail. So I forwarded it on. We'll see how it pans out. I've made 20 people hate me for sending them an email of good or bad luck, but I DID warn them not to open the attachment lest they unleash the jinky.
6. By the way, I think chainmail looks uncomfortable, but I do not actually hate it.
7. I had a wonderful time with my friends Tim and Mark on Saturday. I spent the day looking at flats and then met them at 4 to hear them sing evensong. While I waited for them to change, the priest chatted me up. When they were ready, we went to the Soho hotel for cocktails and snacks before wandering into Chinatown for dinner. It was a lovely night, so we walked to Trafalgar Square, stopping for a pint along the way, and then ended up in the Trafalgar drinking bourbon cocktails and watching some very trampy girls climb all over their dates. Oh my, they were slutty. It was a live soft-core porn show. The management had to ask them to cool it. Very funny. When we had had our fill of drinks and heavy petting, we wandered down to South Bank for a picturesque stroll along the Thames by night. We got a solid midnight chime from Big Ben, then wandered back to their hotel, where we stayed up very late. I slept in a ball on the floor, giving one of Timmy's white t-shirts distinct boob stretch. The nice man from reception brought me a blanket, and I was actually quite comfortable, save for the blisters on my feet that had erupted from the miles and miles of walking. Got up early, grabbed a shame train back to MK I hate travelling on a Sunday morning in rumpled clothes and bedhead. Not that I do it a lot. Just sayin' it ain't fun, and the respectable people give you the skunk eye. It was a fabulous night out. I miss Timmy and Sparkdog. They rock.
8. At the train station I had to pee, and I went in a toilet that was so toxic from someone else's befouling that I could not breathe without retching. I don't know who was there before me, but there is seriously something very very wrong with them. I hope they get help.
9. Periodically, a very strange blistery sort of sore appears on my elbow. It hurts a lot, eventually scabs over, heals, and then a few weeks or even months later it reappears. I've often wondered about this, and then when I complained of it to the Boys the put forward a very logical explanation. Obviously, this is where the aliens put their probe.
10. I am unsettled. My future is uncertain. Expect something drastic from me.

Clarification

2008-06-19T18:38:00.004-05:00

I've been informed by several of my UK readers that they thought the photo image to the left was actually me as a child.

Should you also be wondering this, let me clarify that that is not, in fact, me, but rather the image of Dawn Wiener from the classic dark comedy, Welcome to the Dollhouse.

While I certainly had my geeky stages and often demonstrated a strong sense of misguided fashion, Dawn does not look like me on the outside...she only represents how I felt on the inside.

If you are new to Melinda June, you can click on the label below for a visual tour of my youth.

Yesterday in London

2008-06-18T15:41:00.005-05:00

1. When I got on the train, I sat by two East African Muslim women wearing burgandy-ish jilbabs that clashed with the hennaed orange tips of their fingers. One of them had a nubbin on her thumb that kind of looked like a tiny little extra thumb. It freaked me out a little bit.
2. A woman sitting across from me had the shiniest, whitest Chiclet teeth ever. And though she appeared to be in her twenties, I think they were actually ill-fitting plates because she couldn't seem to get her lips over them to stop the creepy smile.
3. At King's Cross, there was a family that took gender-specific coloration very seriously. The Mom and her two daughters were dressed entirely in pink and had pink roller luggage, the dad and the son were in blue with matching blue duffel bags. They were standing next to a kid dressed in beige. I've read Middlesex. It made me wonder.
4. I saw a short bald man on the tube with a massive bloody bandage on the back of his head. He was acting like it was any other day, like he hadn't a care in the world, nothing amiss. After standing next to him on a crowded train, I beg to differ.
5. I had many meetings, and then went to sit at a cafe off of Oxford Street to wait for my friend Yvonne. I enjoyed a very civilised glass of ice tea in the warm sunshine of a London afternoon. It was about 530pm and so I got quite the fashion parade while I waited. I observed the following:

Bubble skirts, short short dresses and belts are really in right now, often paired with leggings or footless tights. Sadly, though one in three women passing was sporting this look, one in 20 of them should have been.
Belts are also big literally.
90% of the people walking past me were slaves to current fashion trends, but they were either not coming from work or they don't really understand what constitutes appropriate office attire.
Many women wear ill-fitting or impractical shoes that make it impossible for them to walk.
Tom would have hated all the flip flops.
Bangs (or "fringe", as they call them called here) are on the cutting edge of hair

6. Lots of people must have unprotected sex on New Year's Eve.
7. I killed some time reading the London Paper. They were interviewing P Diddy, and they asked him if he loves the Beckhams. He told them that he loves hanging out with David now that he's in LA, that Beckham is a great guy and even gave his son a football lesson. So then they asked if he and Victoria talk about their clothing lines a lot. He said that he has a lot of respect for how driven she is. If I were a gossip columnist, I'd take this to mean that Sean John no likey V. Beckham.
8. A woman asked me if I could spare a minute for charity. I laughed, and told her I'd given them about 18 hours a day for the last month so no, I couldn't really. I think she was puzzled.
9. On the way back to Euston, I was behind a monk in a plain brown hooded robe with a rope belt. He had on teva sandals. I wanted to ask him many questions. What kind of monk was he? Can he talk or is in a vow of silence? And if he's in a vow of silence, does it count when he's out in the world, not the abbey? Is his monk name different than his birth name? And if it is, how did he decide what he would be called? Are their monks named Colton or Brandon? Did he HAVE to wear sandals, or was that just the choice he made this morning? Does he make ale? Who's his favourite saint? What does a monk do for fun on a sunny day in London? How many monks does it take to screw in a lightbulb? So many questions. They were just flying into my brain, I tell you. Ever the polite one, I kept them all inside it. But it killed me.
10. In the UK, they spell "percent" "per cent". It drives me crazy.

Inquiring mind

2008-06-16T16:31:00.002-05:00

1. Rather than go to the store to buy polish remover, I chose to gnaw the chipped polish off my nails last night. I disgust me. On the plus side, I won't have to pack and move the bottle of polish remover, so that's a plus.
2. Why is it so easy to get spinach in your teeth?
3. Today I saw a couple at Euston station wearing two of the ugliest plaid jackets ever. I mean abysmally ugly. Criminally ugly. And I can't help but wonder how that happened? Let's just imagine for a moment that you and I were travelling together, and when I came out of the shower you were putting on a nasty check plaid jacket that's so busy it sends a normal human eye into spasms. I would go one of two ways: 1) Tell you that your jacket was a crime against humanity and you'd best take it off, lest I start burning it whilst you were still in it, or 2) Decide to let you learn your own lesson through ridicule and public shaming, and then I'd put on something simple and unobtrusive to muffle the noise of your blazer. Under no circumstances would I look at your flashing black and white check monstrosity and say, "Hey! I have that SAME jacket except with a bit of yellow thrown in for color! Why don't I wear that?!" Obviously, this man's travelling companion is not me.
4. There were YOBs on the train. I hate YOBs. Talking all Ali G and telling misogynistic stories about women they know. Where are their manners, for pete's sake? If the Youth of Britain are anything to go by, women are all whores and sluts, too stupid to hold a conversation and positively gagging for sex. I hated these kids. They're like 16, and from the way they're dressed they looked like they come from wealthy homes, which likely means they have privilege that will get them into a certain level of power when they grow up. It disgusted me. Little jerks. They needed a good smack.
5. I sat next to a nutter on the tube today. Or at least I'm assuming he was a nutter. About every five seconds he'd smack his knee and then whistle ever so softly. Perhaps he was simply keeping time to some internal tune.
6. I had chocolate ice cream yesterday. I never ever eat ice cream. It was delicious. Yum.
7. I've had a headache most of the day. I think it comes from riding the train facing backwards before I had a proper cup of coffee.
8. I don't understand Bob Dylan's accent. He's from Northern Minnesota. What happened?
9. There are bats that swoop and dive all over the back garden at dusk. They terrify me. I have to shut the blinds so I don't see them because I freak out.
10. I could really go for some jello right now.

Random 10 for Sunday

2008-06-15T08:01:00.006-05:00

1. I'm shocked and horrified by the flooding in Iowa. First, my hometown had crazy high waters, and though there was some damage and quiet a few tense moments, the community banded together to help and they are relatively unscathed in comparison to Cedar Rapids. Most of my extended family on my dad's side still live somewhere between Cedar Rapids and Iowa City and I've spent a lot of time down there throughout my life. It's hard to put words at how awful things are there right now. And it's unfathomable how much damage there is, and how long it's going to take to fix. Word has it that all of my family is safe, but living in a community that's been devastated by something like this is still scarring. I'm thinking about them a lot.
2. I'm also really bothered by some of the comments I've been reading on news stories. People have been jumping on stories about Tim Russert's death and making snide comments about his reporting and bias. On one of the flood stories several people used comments to bash Obama, who has set up an aid fund on his website. They're claiming he's insincere and politicking and is going to keep the money for his campaign. I think it's disgusting that people politicize things like this. Show some respect for the dead and the suffering, for pete's sake.
3. Some of my readers have gotten the idea that I don't like John McCain because he's old. I'd like to clarify that, although I use his age to poke fun, it's not his age itself that I have a problem with. It is possible to be 71 and still meet my criteria for being a good presidential candidate. My objections to John McCain surround a difference in policies (I think he's wrong about a lot of things,) and a dislike for hypocrites and disingenuous politicians (both of which I believe him to be.) But mostly, I dislike him because he frames all issues with 1980's rules/perspective. A lot has changed in the last 20 - 30 years, and John McCain doesn't seem to understand that. And I think that is dangerous for the US.
4. My weekend of dog-sitting is almost through. Wolfie gets picked up and moves to Nadine's parents house tonight, where her father will feed/water/play with him. He's been surprisingly calm, and although he follows me around the house and has insisted on sleeping with me (and taking most of the bed, may I add,) all in all it has gone well. That said, I'm looking forward to being able to leave the house for hours on end again.
5. I have a lot of packing to do. It shouldn't take that long...it's mostly clothes, bathroom/toiletries and kitchen stuff, but I still have to do it by Thursday. Plan to move one load on Friday and another on Saturday. I'm very excited about the new place.
6. I have to work today. I have a lot of niggling points to sort out, and I expect there's a good three hours of writing to do, plus an hour of organising for a site inspection tomorrow AM. I have to catch an early train for that, too, which I'm none to thrilled about. It costs a load and it means being to the station by 8. Pleh.
7. Not only do I not want to see that movie Wanted that they're advertising these days, I don't want to see another advertisement for it, either. Even under the best of circumstances I find Angelina Jolie to be a bit freaky, but in this they keep bending her like she's a Gumby toy and I find it completely unsettling. It's a shame, actually, because I like that James McEvoy, even in spite of Atonement, and I'd like to support his career.
8. I am excited, on the other hand, for Mamma Mia! Abba music, film spectacle, meaty comic characters for Julie Walters and Christine Baranski...what's not to love? Plus I love the fact that Meryl Streep is 3 - 12 years older than all three of the men playing the possible "daddy" roles. Go Meryl! And a film that has Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth and that Swedish dude as the eye-candy love-interests for the female protagonists is perfect for my demographic.
9. Today is my first Father's Day without my dad. In fact, Dad died on Father's Day last year, and though the actual anniversary of his death is Tuesday according to the calendar, today is a sucky day anyway. You probably guessed that I still really miss my dad.
10. Once in awhile I kill time watching the Hallmark Channel, which in the UK means reruns of US and Australian 1 hour mystery, adventure and drama tv. One of my secret dirty pleasures is Diagnosis Murder, which is practically like admitting to watching Matlock. Today's episode was anachronistically amusing...for some reason, it guest starred all sorts of has-been actors from Happy Days and its various spin-offs. Pat Morita (Arnold from HDs) was on it, as was Erin Moran (Joannie from HDs,) the guy who played Ralph Malph, Squiggy from Laverne and Shirley, some blonde woman I couldn't place but would guess was from L&S in California, and it was all rounded out by the dad from Mork and Mindy. Perhaps Anson "Potsie" Williams directed it - I believe he was a regular influencer behind the scenes at DM. Sadly, Scott Baio had left the series by the time this episode was filmed, or it could have been a sweeps week coup.
11. Yes, 11...I'm like a Spinal Tap amp today. In the vein of odd celebrity sightings, I've had two good ones in the movies I've watched over the weekend. The first - Eric Mabius, who plays Daniel on Ugly Betty, also played the handsome dimwit Steve Rogers in Welcome to the Dollhouse. This increases Mr. Mabius' street cred for me, but begs the question of why he seems drawn to shows about unattractive heroines. Secondly, while watching The Way We Were, I realised that the skinny, young-communist anti-Redford from the days when Katie and Hubbel were in college is played by a skinny and awkward James Woods, who is, in fact, an anti-Redford in real life, too. Bless, I hear he's a member of Mensa and all, but he's not exactly a heart throb. Have you seen him in that movie with Dolly Parton? Oh, and by the way, Robert Redford is timeless. It boggles the mind.

For dinner

2008-06-12T16:45:00.002-05:00

I'm really bummed that I couldn't have a few of you over for dinner, because you would have LOVED what I made.

Coq au Riesling

Cut up half a pound of bacon. Heat some olive oil in a casserole, toss in some minced garlic to flavour it, add the bacon and brown it crisp.

Add a finely chopped leek and cook and stir a bit.

Add some boneless/skinless chicken thighs cut in half with a knife (probably six or so) and some ripped up oyster mushrooms. Toss them around a bit more and let it brown slightly, but not really.

Season with salt, pepper and a couple of bay leaves, add 3/4 a bottle of good Riesling wine and let is simmer for an hour.

Add just a small tidge of single cream, and serve it on egg noodles with a bit of fresh dill chopped on top, plus a spinach salad with a citrusy dressing on the side.

It is all melty and delicious, with no trace of alcohol in the flavour - if I can taste wine in a sauce it usually annoys me, and this...this was rich and succulent and vibrant.

Celebrity look-alike

2008-06-12T14:58:00.004-05:00

Picked this up over at the Pug. Not only do I apparently look like Marni as well as Janeanne Garafalo, I look like several "celebrities", as well. I wonder if somewhere on some blog in the near future someone will resemble a "celebrity" that looks like me?

OH! And who'd have guessed I look like Lionel Richie?

Random 10 for Thursday

2008-06-12T09:33:00.003-05:00

1. I have fabulous new hair. It is a curly, vaguely shaggy chin-length inverted bob. And it is a lovely chocolate brown with sprigs of blond and vibrant red mixed in. Much, much better than the shaggy brown-and-grey mop I had a mere two weeks ago. I feel sassy. (Technically the hair is visible in the graduation photo below, but it didn't interact well with the hat so the photo doesn't do it justice.)
2. Coldplay has a new album out. I still hate them. I'm listening to the Current online and they're playing a song from it, and it's overly dramatic and cloying. Nice to know some things never change.
3. My housemate believes that even the deadest looking plants are capable of rebirth. Therefore I have two extremely dead, turning to dust plants in my immediate line of sight. Bless her optimism.
4. She left today on holiday, and I am house/dog sitting this week and feverishly packing for my move next Friday. Wolfie, the dog, is a delightful animal but he is a bit skittish and has serious separation anxiety when Nadine is gone for even a few hours, so I am anticipating a less than enjoyable weekend. I don't mind, but I'm hoping the howling subsides by Saturday or Sunday, as I don't think I can take more than three days of constant baying in lonely torpor and bursts of psychotic hyperactivity.
5. I am working from home today and tomorrow as a result. And while I've been pretty productive, there's a dvd of The Way We Were beckoning to me. That would be a much better way to spend my Thursday. But I will resist. I will. Really.
6. Someone please name one ELO song that doesn't completely suck. Because I'm wondering why they ever achieved any fame at all. Did no one have taste back then?
7. I have polished my fingernails and they keep chipping, which is annoying me.
8. There was a herd of migrating bees in the car park at work last week. Thousands of them swarmed through, then settled on a bit of tree in a clump that was the size of a full-sized dachshound. They hung there for a couple of days, going frantic when anyone walked anywhere near them, and then one day around 2PM they all swarmed off, crossing the fence and moving onwards into some poor sucker's back yard. It was fascinating. I'd never seen migrating bees before. I tried to convince everyone that they were African Killer Bees. They didn't buy it. Sure, every bird from the continent is a bird flu threat, but masses of bees are just on holiday. Obviously Brits don't understand the concept of constant vigilance.
9. Facebook is a difficult thing. I am plagued by people who want to be my friend, but whom I don't really know and frankly don't really want to. I love the part about people I used to see every day finding me there, and how I've connected with other friends at a distance and have learned quite a bit about people I didn't know that well by reading their walls and watching their updates. But in spite of my best judgement, I made the mistake of accepting invitations from a few people with whom I have nothing in common, and now I get updates about the anti-immigrant groups they're joining and the random blokes they're picking up at MK bars on Friday nights. Teaches me to ignore my instincts in an effort to be polite.
10. The BBC adaptation of Middlemarch was a big disappointment.

Name calling, afterword

2008-06-11T12:49:00.005-05:00

From CNN:

BREAKING DOWN THE NUMBERS
Here's how the average tax bill could change in 2009 if either John McCain's or Barack Obama's tax proposals were fully in place.

MCCAIN vs. OBAMA
Income: Change in tax
Over $2.9M: -$269,364 vs. +$701,885
$603K and up: -$45,361 vs. +$115,974
$227K-$603K: -$7,871 vs. +$12
$161K-$227K: -$4,380 vs. -$2,789
$112K-$161K: -$2,614 vs. -$2,204
$66K-$112K: -$1,009 vs. -$1,290
$38K-$66K: -$319 vs. -$1,042
$19K-$38K: -$113 vs. -$892
Under $19K: -$19 vs. -$567

Source: The Tax Policy Center

Those crazy tax and spenders. They obviously don't understand how important every dollar is to the average American. I mean, sure Americans who make less than £112K annually do better under the Obama plan, but what about all those people who make MORE than that??? Hard working Americans want an explanation for this, Mr. Obama.

Special to readers who are actually IN the +£112K-$603K bracket...I hope to join you there soon, and I know you work hard for your money. So hard for it, honey. But the $12 average increase you will have means a lot less to you than the $567 decrease does to someone at the bottom of the ladder, therefore I say "pony up". And to those in the brackets above that...you're lucky being Robin Hood is illegal.

Blowing my cover

2008-06-11T10:55:00.000-05:00

I've been DYING to tell you all what I'm doing until the end of July...and now all can be revealed.

I have the goofiest job ever. I am project directing this.

The press, the promotion, the celebrities, the fundraising, the team interaction at my company, the branding and message...everything. It ROCKS. And if you're so inclined, show your love and spread the word...click on DONATE and sponsor us. But remember, US residents....you'd best mentally double whatever amount you enter before you click send, because it collects money in £££'s and your bank will when they debit it from your account.

Name calling

2008-06-10T11:44:00.001-05:00

OOOOO. Don't vote for that Hussein Obama character! He's going to TAX you! (Insert old coot holler here, perhaps with a cane shake.)

Listen up, Ole John. If you're going to call us tax and spend liberals who just love to take money from the pockets of hard-working Americans to feed and house lazyasses with too many children, then I'm going to call you a money-grubbing, selfish bastard with a cold black lump of coal for a soul who is only concerned about protecting your own wealth and that of your cronies.

It's 2008, not 1988. Supply-side and trickle-down economics and name-calling are passe. Not to mention that there's no evidence they work. Furthermore, equating lowering taxes with creating jobs is risky in a culture where record profits and rising unemployment seem to be not just related but in some unholy marriage.

Get a new plan and make a real argument.

Last Friday

2008-06-09T17:35:00.003-05:00

Graduation or Fancy Dress party? You decide.

Hater, vol 5 - let the healing begin

2008-06-03T15:32:00.003-05:00

To all you HRC supporters, I'm really sorry for your loss. Politics is heady business. Even though you know it shouldn't be, it becomes very personal as you become more committed to a candidate, and every one of their successes or failures causes surges of powerful, heartfelt emotion. And worst of all, I know what it feels like to lose. To know deep in your heart that you were supporting a candidate who could change the world, but the rest of the nation was just too stupid to listen. You feel betrayed. You feel frustrated. Angry even. It hurts.

But losing an election cycle is not a reason to become a moron.

Something like 24% (more in some states) of you HRC supporters are vowing to support John McCain in a protest vote. Or to write in Hillary, Democratic party be damned, because your girl didn't win. And you don't care if Obama loses, because he's a pantywaist anyway.

Seriously? I mean, seriously.

You're willing to abandon your dreams of universal healthcare, sensible gun laws, appropriate immigration and affirmative action laws and fair tax codes that don't only benefit the wealthy just so you can stick it to the guy that gave your girl the bum's rush? Your pride is more important than a women's right to choose? You're willing to allow the GOP to fill the courts with activist conservative judges, continue to gut environmental laws and put corporate interests above the people's just to prove a point? You're willing to spend trillions more dollars and countless American lives on fighting a civil war in Iraq, and put another rootin'-tootin'-cowpoke sort of "diplomat" in control of our foreign policy? Just because you lost?

You've got to be kidding me. Calm down. Have a cocktail too many, cry in your beer, put Obama's face on a dart board for a night, whatever. But get over it. Move on. Did you support Hillary because of her policies or because of her pantsuits? Are you REALLY willing to let McBush do even more damage to the economy, the public welfare and the US' standing in the world just so Hillary can run again in four years?

Certainly this is easy for me...my horse won. But if he hadn't, I'd do the honorable thing and vote for HRC, even though she's practically become synonymous with the "hater" series, and she's done everything underhanded and mean-spirited that she can to discredit my guy. I mean, I don't like her anymore, but I care too much about my country to use my vote against its best interest.

Go have a think and get back to us. And if you decide to come back, we'll embrace you as though none of this has ever happened.

But while you're out, would you please muzzle that Geraldine Ferraro? She gets on my nerves.

Rats

2008-06-02T18:36:00.004-05:00

The headline said that the designer of the Pringles can was recently buried in one. I had visions of a giant human-sized container made specially for him, and his embalmed body being put in feet first before being vacuum-sealed, capped with a snap on lid and buried. The actual story says he was cremated, and only part of him went in an actual Pringles can. Still cool, but not as cool as the original idea.

Unless they coated the ashes with sour cream and onion seasoning.

I wonder if he had a mustache?

Hater, vol 4

2008-05-29T08:17:00.004-05:00

For reference, Mr. McCain, just like Some Guy said awhile back - I am not your "friend."

Not only am I NOT your friend, I actively dislike you and your mamby pamby pandering ways. I think you look like you're made out of wax, and I think you sound like Dick Dastardly's dog Muttley when you laugh. In fact, you look a bit like him, too. (And since I know you're way too old to understand the Hanna Barbera pop culture reference, FYI that isn't a compliment. In fact - SNAP.)

I figure in the end your folksy chitterchat will ultimately kick your ass. If you can talk all cocky about giving Barack Obama some schoolin' in foreign policy with a trip to Iraq, it can only be a matter of time before you call him "boy" in a debate. Or perhaps you'll go with the less racially charged "whipper-snapper." With an old-coot holler at the end.

But for now, please cease and desist with the "friend" calling, Sir. From this point forward, it's "Miss Jackson" to you. (That one's easy. Look it up.)

This is normally where I say, "But good luck to you." Instead I'll wish you a safe free flight on your wife's corporate jet. And God bless.

Up with some people

2008-05-21T04:57:00.004-05:00

I've got news for you Iowans. And Minnesotans. And Washingtonians. (And folks from Alaska, Colorado, Idaho, Kansas, North Dakota, Nevada, Maine, Wyoming and half of Texas.) You don't count. You and your lazy, have-a-cup-of-coffee-and-a-piece-of-pie-then-take-your-corners-and discuss-your-candidate caucusing ways are worthless. Meaningless. Why can't you just vote like normal people?

Michigan and Florida, man. Now THOSE people matter. Those people have important messages and deserve to be heard. You yokels with your chatty cathy get-togethers are just a whole lotta noise. Who cares what you think?

Thank God hard-working Hillary is here to remind us who matters and who doesn't. We always knew that it wasn't just poor uneducated white people. It's so nice to have it clarified.

Hillary's so smart. That's why she's ahead in the popular vote.

Tuesday's 10

2008-05-20T17:34:00.003-05:00

1. I seem to have developed a pattern wherein I am telling you 10 things on my mind each day. I hope that's okay by you.
2. I was inordinately sleepy this morning. People commented on it. I think I set my alarm too early and should have let myself have another hour of real sleep, not snooze button sleep. I have said it before. I am not a morning person. At all. I think this alone is reason for me to become independently wealthy so that I don't have to get up and be productive. Productivity before 10 AM is stupid. You up-at-dawn-chirpy-morning-people suck. And you're all so self-righteous about your fresh out of bed, everything done by noon mentalities. Admit it. You don't see us as different. You think you're just a little bit better than me because you get out of bed and can hold a conversation, don't you.
3. The air conditioning blew in the room that houses our servers, and so about 130pm all servers collapsed from heat exhaustion. I had no email, couldn't print or access shared directories or the internet. Nothing. Therefore I was forced to cease working and talk about EUROVISION, which is happening all week and culminates in the finale on Saturday. Oh, bliss!
4. Since I'm in London a lot and will soon be MOVING THERE (!) I have taken to using an Oyster card, which is our version of the frequent use card. I can't believe I waited this long. Not only is it cheaper, it is much faster and you feel like a local when you whiz it over the reader. It also works on buses as well as the tube, so now I'm learning to deal with the London bus system, too. A true sign of a local.
5. I met my friend Emmanuelle for dinner tonight at a new restaurant called dim T. They serve various non-traditional dim sum and pan-Asian entrees. It was actually pretty tasty, and we had a lovely conversation. And they served some mint iced tea that tasted exactly like Moroccan mint tea except cold and without the scaldy pot.
6. I have a new computer at work. It is shiny and fast, but it doesn't have all of the little programmes like flash media and java installed, which means virtually every website you go to doesn't work, and I don't have admin rights so I can't install them and therefore I am paralyzed. Grr.
7. There are certain nights when BBC Radio 2 plays country music. I find it very odd to be driving down the left side of the road through hedgerows and twisty lanes listening to Conway Twitty.
8. I received a most excellent package from The Girls. It has magic zit powder, also known as id rare minerals blemish repair. It rocks. Just a bit on even a suspected spot before bed eliminates it. Gone. Finito. No burning red threat for two days before a major eruption. No embarrassing need for over-coverage with the foundation to conceal a gigantic blemish. It just goes away. And there was some eyeshadow and some lovely highlighting powder and it was basically like Christmas in May. Thanks, Girls!
9. At least three times a week I thank the Lord that I do not have dandruff. Dandruff is very common in the UK. I don't much care for dandruff, FYI.
10. The Michelin Man has gotten really buff. I liked him better as a fatso.

Random thoughts on my brain

2008-05-19T16:09:00.003-05:00

1. After many years of viewing exercise as a necessary evil, I have finally found my sport. Boxing. I'm a natural. I've got a strong jab, a good hook and my upper cut is pretty okay, too. And though I'm world-renowned for my lack of coordination, I took to the fwumpity-fwumpity bag like a duck to water...had it spinning on my first try.
2. As I was waiting on the train platform today, I noticed that the girl standing next to me was wearing a cheap black fashion jacket with the word "criminal" embroidered on the back. Other than that, she looked perfectly respectable. It seemed kind of odd. I mean, the last time I checked being a criminal was not a good thing and if you WERE a criminal you wouldn't want to proclaim it to the world. Therefore I can only conclude that this is some sort of new work-release uniform and this poor girl was some sort of yobbish Hester Prynne.
3. I have several outstanding liquid eyeliners from the No. 7 collection at Boots (which all y'all can buy at the Target, I believe.) They're very sticky, though, and so you'd best lay down on the bed and close your eyes for five minutes to let it dry, or you'll have one line at your lashes and another halfway up your lid. Not being much of a morning person, this is not ideal for me. Today I almost missed my train as I fell back asleep whilst waiting for my fine pewter line to firm up.
4. No matter how many times I go to and from London, I still giggle every time my train goes through Bletchley and Leighton Buzzard. One sounds like a belch and the other sounds like a pet carrion-loving bird. One thing's for sure...I look folks up and down when they get on the train, because I really want to know who would willingly live in either of these places.
5. I am moving to London in June. I will be living about 10 minutes' stroll from the Willesden Green tube station - that's zone 2 so it's 15 minutes or so to central London but in a zone where you can still have a car. I'm moving in with a friend of a friend until August while I figure out my next move. We met for coffee today and she's outstanding. I'm really looking forward to it.
6. I can't wait to tell you all about the project I'm working on.
7. I have a serious toe cramp right now. I hate toe cramps.
8. The magic blister-wicking plasters have completely sorted out my heels. I am more fascinated than ever now as to how they work with their whitening pads.
9. It's cold in here.
10. I'm sleepy. G'night.

Beating Jay Leno to the punch

2008-05-19T14:17:00.002-05:00

John McCain was up in arms today, berating Barack Obama for dismissing the security threat posed by Iran as "tiny". In response, Obama clarified that he was referring not to Iran the country, but to their leader, Mahmoud Amadinejad. He then added that by these measures North Korea was a tiny threat, as well.

Gross out

2008-05-16T15:56:00.004-05:00

It has been warm, and I have been walking around in inappropriate footwear. Actually the footwear is fine really, it's my lack of proper sock or stocking that is causing the problem, specifically, very painful blisters.

I found this remarkable product at Boots: Dr. Scholl Party Feet gel plasters! Healing, cushioning...what more could a girl want?! Bought them, went home and wrapped my especially painful and pink pinky-toe in one. They're very strange. Kind of like a second skin with a padded center. Completely transparent and very very sticky - not like a band aid that you'd peel off. These feel like they'd take of the top layer off your skin so you better leave them on until they come off themselves.

MUCH better. I made it walking for two days with no pain. None. And then on the second day I discovered another pair of shoes that seem to have hidden knives in them. Ouch. I got back to the office, and when I took off my shoes I noticed that the pink-toe plaster had come partly off. So I helped it the rest of the way, and I noticed that the pad part in the center had become kind of gelatinous and white. "Eww," I thought. What is THAT? Did it suck stuff out of my foot? Did it break? I mean, what IS that?

I decided that with wear/pressure, the gel must get extra paddy and so that's why it turned white. That wouldn't be so bad.

And then I put larger plasters on the back of my heels. My left heel was a bit of a pulp. Very painful, and the plaster helped. My right heel was a bit sore but actually not that bad. I could have left that one alone, but there were two plasters in the box so I figured better safe than sorry since I was going to be walking around London again. And now I'm wishing I hadn't.

After one day of wearing, the LEFT one has turned gelatinous and white again. The RIGHT one - the heel that was actually just fine - is still transparent.

I'm now obsessively wondering what it's wicking out of my blister. And am thoroughly, completely grossed out.

And a chicken in every pot....

2008-05-15T11:52:00.002-05:00

I think John McCain sees fairies.

He's given quite the speech , and while it'd be nice if all his dreams came true I think perhaps he should sell the unicorn farm and read a newspaper. Or a history book.

Perhaps he is less a George Bush Republican and more a Herbert Hoover one. Now THERE'S a guy who knew from prosperous. And look at how well that turned out.

This is yet another reason Hillary needs to make a graceful exit as soon as possible. We don't need another Democratic rift putting Willy Wonka (this time driving a tank) in office.

Hater, vol. 3 - redux

2008-05-15T10:37:00.003-05:00

Rather than republish my own rant, which is actually not nearly as eloquent or accurate to my true annoyance as it should be, I've decided instead to link to this op-ed column by Gail Collins of the New York Times. While it is not the funniest thing I've ever read, the thought of the giant stone face of Thomas Jefferson rumbling out, "You go, Girl!" as part of a campaign strategy did make me roll on the floor.

Neil Diamond is stalking me

2008-05-13T19:14:00.002-05:00

Every time I turn on radio, he's coming to America or believing or singing some song blue or smiling at good ole Cracklin' Rose.

Obviously he's got a new album out. Which I have no desire to purchase. Whenever I hear him sing, I have the overwhelming need to clear my throat, or perhaps hand him a lozenge.

Perhaps if he brought me flowers I'd feel differently.

OH! and by the way

2008-05-13T18:27:00.004-05:00

West Virginians are not some political bellwether. There's no as-WV-goes-so-goes-the-nation. If there were, we'd all be listening to bluegrass and whooping like hillbillies. (Which I do, in fact. But I'm not typical.)

West Virginians are white, relatively uneducated and old. They are Hillary's base, if she DOESN'T win by a 30-40% margin it's a failure for her.

Punditry sucks as much as Hillary for trying to make out like this primary matters.

Quick, stop the presses. West Virginians and their 28 delegates aren't keen on the black liberal with the Muslim-sounding name. We'd better ignore all those other voters and put the nice white lady at the top of the ticket.

Stupid tossers.

Random thoughts on my brain

2008-05-13T17:40:00.005-05:00

Some people do randomness with their iPod. I'm doing it with the miscellany on my mind.

1. Colgate is really about the best toothpaste ever. I'm four-square against Crest, and though I like the taste of the cinnamon flavour Tom's of Maine, I feel better with industrial-strength, fortified toothpaste attacking my tartar and plaque and preventing gingivitis.
2. Now that I'm tan, I have become obsessive about moisturizing, which helps one retain one's golden brownness and avoid pesky flaking.
3. I have purchased a cocktail dress for our graduation ball that is not black. It is teal/brown iridescent, and it will likely require the purchase of gold sandals. I don't wear gold. I obviously did not think this through.
4. I removed my second Hillary rant because I'm so frothy that I decided it needed revising to a stronger, more anti-Hillary sentiment. Hillary, you really suck. You know that?
5. I love it when the weather gets warmer and I can break out my sandals and skirts and lighter clothing. But I hate blisters and chafing.
6. Last Friday I met my friend Yvonne and a few other people in Hyde Park for a picnic. It was incredibly fun. In fact, I spent about four or five hours total in the park. I got to eavesdrop on all sorts of interesting conversations, many of which I couldn't understand because they were in languages I don't speak. I especially liked the granddad playing "cuckoo" from behind trees with his granddaughter who was a toddler. (Cuckoo is peek-a-boo for Germans.)
7. Just finished The Book Thief, which I adored. It made me weep openly. The quirky narrative voice was vaguely Vonnegut-esque and I found it quite effective (though admittedly not as edgy and at times a bit contrived.) And the characters he created - with subtle details and mannerisms and behaviours - were some of the most vivid I've found lately. In fact, the sweetness and beauty of a few of them positively broke my heart. I've been thinking about death a lot, what since it's just about a year since my dad took a turn for the worst, and the way this book deals with loss and death resonated with many of the questions on my mind. It won't be to everyone's taste, but I'd say give it a try.
8. My favourite poet is e.e. cummings. Way back in 1989 I purchased an anthology of his poems in paperback, and I've worn the thing into loose-binding, missing-pages disrepair. So I decided that, as a graduation present to me, I would purchase a hard copy version that has everything he ever wrote. On the back cover there's a different picture of him than the bespectacled, sixtyish one on my old version...and I must say, even though he's of my grandfather's generation (who was older than most grandfathers of people my age), I think he's a stone cold fox. This is the top half of the picture:

In the bottom half, he's wearing baggy dungarees and standing in a lanky, casual recline against a fence, and he looks devilish and clever and relaxed and intense. When you combine this with the eloquence and beauty and humour of his poetry, I must confess I've developed quite a crush.
9. I have very strong thumbnails. My other fingernails are kind of bendy and brittle, but my thumbs, man, they grow and they don't break. My left thumbnail is a bit long right now, and kind of sharp. Last week I accidentally poked my nose and took a divot out of the tip (which, of course, just looked like a giant zit-scab,) and today I accidentally stabbed my forehead. It hurts more than the mild concussion I got when I fell down the steps and slammed into the wall in November. Note to self: cut thumbnail, or at least file the damn thing before you put an eye out.
10. ABC just announced that it is going to do a David E. Kelley version of Life on Mars, a show that aired here in the UK a few years ago. If he doesn't screw it up, it should be very very good. The original rocks. Speaking of crushes (as I was in number 8,) I developed a completely inappropriate crush on the crass lunkhead DCI Gene Hunt. In the US version, the character will be much tamer. Remember that if you end up watching the show. Whatever they do with him, make him 10 time crasser, more sexist, less honest and then add in real swearing, and then you'll understand why I'm ashamed. There is something wrong with me.

Touched by an angel, vol. 3

2008-05-05T06:02:00.004-05:00

I received this tag from my friend MG and am very happy to participate, as I have been in a bit of a non-blogging mentality lately. Perhaps this will give me inspiration.

5 things in my bag
- A small ziploc bag containing three Buxom lip glosses from bare escentials (all of which make my tiny little lips look voluptuous), several lipsticks from sundry cosmetic giants like MAC and Trish McEvoy, and a Justine Case from Benefit to make me look not-tired and not-cranky if the need arises. (Put them in a plastic bag before flying a few trips ago and can't seem to take them out.)
- My very cool metallic animal print flat wallet that my mom gave me for Christmas
- An equally cool coin leather coin purse that has images of geisha painted on it
- Several pens and a notebook used for writing down anything that seems important
- My brand spanking new filofax, given to me as a leaving present by my company. It is red leather, and has space for addresses. I am notoriously not a keeper of anyone's address, and this is therefore a very good thing for me. In fact, allow me to take this opportunity to suggest you email me your postal address at your earliest convenience, and I will enter it into my filofax. Those who know me well will know that it is best not to assume I know it. Just because I can find your house doesn't mean I know the street name or the number, let alone the post code. I have a remarkable internal compass.

5 favourite things in my room
- a Story People print called Quiet Pride that says, "there has never been a day when I have not been proud of you, I said to my daughter, though some days I'm louder about other stuff so it's easy to miss that," which was given to me a few Christmases ago by my parents
- a postage stamp quilt that my grandmothers on my dad's side stitched together...my folks had it quilted for me a few years ago
- my DAB radio, which picks up digital channels like BBC6
- a very nice photo of me embracing El Ben in front of a wall of snow on Mt. Rainier. It was May, like 13 years ago, and we were in shorts but the snow at Paradise hadn't melted yet so it still looked like a glacier
- a photo of me and my dad, which my brother kindly framed for me (after removing evidence of himself) wherein I am a baby sitting on my dad's lap, and I am wearing a cowboy hat

5 things I have always wanted to do
- Fly in one of those first class cabins that gives you your own little room, with a flat bed and a chair for guests and luxury amenities...I've made it to business class and normal first class, but never the really deluxe cabin
- Spend a few weeks on a private sail boat with a bunch of friends, with a crew to sail us around and cook us gourmet meals. In college my friends and I used to speculate on end about this sort of trip, compiling guest lists of friends we felt would make for a good cruise dynamic. Of course, the boats were always very large...we would not want to get into the messiness of a limited guest list.
- Live in New York. Or Chicago. Or Hong Kong. These were the pinnacle of sophisticated urban life to me when I was growing up, something I wanted very very much
- I've always wanted David Letterman's job
- Run a marathon

5 things I'm currently into
- Going to the gym. I love the treadclimber and am pleased to be losing a bit of weight, albeit very slowly
- My tan. Yes, my tan. Trips to Rio and Marrakech did wonders to my normally pale complexion
- Brazilian music
- I can not stop going out for Asian food
- Reading. I went through a dry spell after the MBA where I couldn't be bothered to do anything that required me to think. But in the past few weeks I've been able to start reading again and am now back to three active books (currently these are The Good Earth, Cloud Atlas and Saving Fish From Drowning.)

5 people you'd like to tag

In general I don't tag people anymore, but I'd like to hear from anyone willing

Graduation

2008-05-04T05:56:00.001-05:00

Special to those who were thinking about coming to my graduation - I have four tickets, and the ceremony is at 3pm on 6 June. Please let me know ASAP if you're still thinking about this. I'm assuming no, but would still love to see you.

The more things change

2008-05-04T05:54:00.002-05:00

So. After two weeks of not working, I've been hired back. My role is different. I am managing a special project until the end of July, and it will be good experience and still give me time to look for a job so I took it.

I've been kind of busy getting it going, but I think it's the right decision. But whole new life is just kind of new life now. Which is fine.

Ode to Perfection, vol. 1

2008-04-27T18:23:00.004-05:00

Shop Around by The Captain and Tennille is an outstanding example of seventies pop music. Toni Tennille's broad word chewing and the funky synthetic rhythm stylings of her chapeau-ed balding husband stand the test of time. When the iPod spits this one out, composure be damned. It's time to boogie and lip sync.

There's even perfectly timed "Whooo!"-ing. Someone should incorporate this song into a chick flick. You know, they can play it over an independent career woman's series of comically bad dates, leading up to the meet-cute when she encounters her true love (who she initially can't stand) and gives up her hardened ways for the man of her dreams. All the 40-something women like me that used to sing this song into hairbrushes as girls would really dig it.

Oh, wait. The song's about relying on yourself and not settling for the mundane.

But it's got good beat, and you can dance to it. Quick. Someone call Nora Ephron.