Okay, recently I have tried a series of diets, none too noteworthy or, to be honest, none that have worked. Because I like to be informed, I decided to go see a nutritionist, who gave me excellent advice, as well as read the book Skinny Bitch. For fun, or so I thought.
Now, I thought this book was basically going to be funny and have funny advice like "drink wine," "don't eat microwaved meals while sitting in bed watching Hulu," and "have sex, it burns like 500 calories!" (All good dieting advice, btw.) But no, Skinny Bitch is a tome dedicated to convincing scared women that they real way to lose those last ten pounds is to become a vegan.
Now, I like vegans. I think people who are vegans are brave and have will power that I don't have. In short, that's great, but it's not for me. But this whole book is basically a less interesting version of Fast Food Nation, the moral of which is that being fat is the worst and being a vegan is the answer. Because everything we eat is disgusting. Forget it. So not my bag of gluten-free baked chips! It basically just seems like a great excuse for teenagers who frequent pro-ana websites to never eat a family meal ever again. But I digress...
So, my "diet" is going to have to consist of exercise, mainly my horrible, self-hating Bikram yoga, which will inspire a post on "integrated product synergy systems," or Why I Hate that my Yoga Studio Makes Me Feel Like I Have to Drink SmartWater."
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Guest Stars
Sometimes a TV show will hire a slew of guest stars because it is popular. This seems to be the case with 30 Rock this season. The show is far from jumping the shark, in my opinion, but here comes the parade of guest stars and well-known actors in bit parts--like when Donna Moss from The West Wing played Jack's fake ex-grlfriend at Liz Lemon's high school reunion. Way below her pay grade (which now apparently involves playing Scott Peterson's lady-friend in made for a TV movie).
The more fascinating and troubled version of the guest star problem occurs when a show has definitely outlived its welcome, and this is where my complaint resides. I watch a lot of TV, mainly because I find it soothing and the long story-lines are interesting. So, as I write my thesis, I have been re-watching Alias, the JJ Abrams show, which was my favorite TV show for several years when it was still on the air. Season 3 was tenuous at best. Season 4 is insane, and completely ludicrous, in part because Jennifer Garner was busy having Violet Affleck. So, I get home and put on an episode as I begin to write, and I recognize a voice. It's Omar from The Wire! Sweet! But then, all of a sudden, another guy from The Wire shows up. It's Spiros Vondopoulos. Sweet Jesus! But then the 'piece de resistance' comes as I am checking my Facebook and chatting with a middle school friend who has a baby. It's that voice...it's Adminral Cain from Battlestar Galactica. In one episode! One!
So basically, this is all too much for me. I have decided that rather than this being some kind of sign that I have somehow jumped the shark, and should stop watching television altogether, I've come to the conclusion that this means something else. Desperation is a powerful motivator. And I guess when the female star of a spy show can't do stuntd or be naked because she is carrying Ben Affleck's baby, it's as good a time as any to parade cable television's finest actors all over your network show.
The more fascinating and troubled version of the guest star problem occurs when a show has definitely outlived its welcome, and this is where my complaint resides. I watch a lot of TV, mainly because I find it soothing and the long story-lines are interesting. So, as I write my thesis, I have been re-watching Alias, the JJ Abrams show, which was my favorite TV show for several years when it was still on the air. Season 3 was tenuous at best. Season 4 is insane, and completely ludicrous, in part because Jennifer Garner was busy having Violet Affleck. So, I get home and put on an episode as I begin to write, and I recognize a voice. It's Omar from The Wire! Sweet! But then, all of a sudden, another guy from The Wire shows up. It's Spiros Vondopoulos. Sweet Jesus! But then the 'piece de resistance' comes as I am checking my Facebook and chatting with a middle school friend who has a baby. It's that voice...it's Adminral Cain from Battlestar Galactica. In one episode! One!
So basically, this is all too much for me. I have decided that rather than this being some kind of sign that I have somehow jumped the shark, and should stop watching television altogether, I've come to the conclusion that this means something else. Desperation is a powerful motivator. And I guess when the female star of a spy show can't do stuntd or be naked because she is carrying Ben Affleck's baby, it's as good a time as any to parade cable television's finest actors all over your network show.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Waiter problems.
I have many friends who are or were waiters, so I understand that it is a tough job, but I also understand that you can do it right, or you can do it wrong. Yesterday, I had two opposite service experiences.
Let's start with Brunch....
It was a craze at Over Easy, and Heidi and I waited for around 25 minutes. Which is kind of a long time, but no big thing. Once we sat down, our food came quickly, which is cool, but then the waiters started trying to clear our plates about 5 minutes later. For crying out loud! Just because I am not at that moment stuffing food in my mouth, that does not mean that I am finished, and you should clear my plate. Seriously- my plate is half full of food, I have had it for maybe 7 minutes, I am taking a sip of coffee and you say- "Are you done with that?" No, I'm not. Calm down. I know that you want the table, I get it, but I should be able to sit for at least as long as I waited. So back off. I also hate it when the waiter clears my plate when my companion is still eating. Or the other way around. I mean, I'm not going to get up and go because you took my plate- we will leave at the same time, so just leave the plate there. Not hard. This didn't happen at Over-Easy, but now I'm on a roll, so, please don't ask me if I want to keep my fork between courses in a fancy restaurant. If I used it, I don't want to keep it. I'm not going to lick it clean and keep it. Just give me a new fork.
But then, for dinner, I went to the magnificent Publican...
This is the greatest restaurant. Not only did our handsome waiter laugh at all of our little jokes, but he was helpful but not long winded about the menu. He was around when we needed him, but didn't hover. He was relaxed but not overly familiar and cheesy. He cleared all plates at the same time, but only after we had finished all of the food. He cleared all of the silverware after each course. It just made the whole meal that much more terrific. I can't recommend that place enough- Sunday nights, family style set menu for $45 per person. Also, they played the new Mavis Staples album, and then Dusty Springfield's greatest hits. Be still my beating heart.
Let's start with Brunch....
It was a craze at Over Easy, and Heidi and I waited for around 25 minutes. Which is kind of a long time, but no big thing. Once we sat down, our food came quickly, which is cool, but then the waiters started trying to clear our plates about 5 minutes later. For crying out loud! Just because I am not at that moment stuffing food in my mouth, that does not mean that I am finished, and you should clear my plate. Seriously- my plate is half full of food, I have had it for maybe 7 minutes, I am taking a sip of coffee and you say- "Are you done with that?" No, I'm not. Calm down. I know that you want the table, I get it, but I should be able to sit for at least as long as I waited. So back off. I also hate it when the waiter clears my plate when my companion is still eating. Or the other way around. I mean, I'm not going to get up and go because you took my plate- we will leave at the same time, so just leave the plate there. Not hard. This didn't happen at Over-Easy, but now I'm on a roll, so, please don't ask me if I want to keep my fork between courses in a fancy restaurant. If I used it, I don't want to keep it. I'm not going to lick it clean and keep it. Just give me a new fork.
But then, for dinner, I went to the magnificent Publican...
This is the greatest restaurant. Not only did our handsome waiter laugh at all of our little jokes, but he was helpful but not long winded about the menu. He was around when we needed him, but didn't hover. He was relaxed but not overly familiar and cheesy. He cleared all plates at the same time, but only after we had finished all of the food. He cleared all of the silverware after each course. It just made the whole meal that much more terrific. I can't recommend that place enough- Sunday nights, family style set menu for $45 per person. Also, they played the new Mavis Staples album, and then Dusty Springfield's greatest hits. Be still my beating heart.
Women's clothing sizes
Men get it easy: while men's sizes are at first completely incomprehensible, they actually relate to measurements. This also means that sizes are consistent from store to store. The same can not be said of women's clothing sizes.
In my aforementioned hours of leisure in the morning, I spend perhaps (ahem) too much time online shopping. One of the many many things I have learned in the process is that no two stores label clothing the same way. This even applies to stores with the same corporate parent (I'm looking at you, Gap, Inc. The sizes at Old Navy bear virtually no relation to the sizes at Banana Republic).
I understand that stores want women to feel better about themselves and that consequently sizes have changed over time--today's 8 is yesterday's 14. My sister and I recently found a shirt of my mother's from college. It looked ridiculously small, like it was made for a twelve year old. We laughed at its itty-bittyness. Until we saw the "L" on the label. But I digress.
With no clear size consensus, the women of America are doomed to spend hours trying on different sizes and feeling badly about their bodies. Worse, women buy and then wear the wrong size all the time, in part because they self-identify as a certain size and refuse to buy something larger.
Some stores have "modern size" conversions so that you know that if you used to be an 8 but are now a 10 it's not your fault. Sizes at high-end stores (including those that don't carry above a 10) run much smaller than elsewhere. A designer 12 is smaller than an Old Navy 8. And so forth.
Get it together retail establishments. Make up new size labels that bear no relation to the past and are comparable store to store. Consider something radical like sizes based on letters if numbers are too judgmental. An "a" corresponding to a 0, and so forth. If the average American woman turns out to be an "h", she won't know that is supposed to make her feel fat.
In my aforementioned hours of leisure in the morning, I spend perhaps (ahem) too much time online shopping. One of the many many things I have learned in the process is that no two stores label clothing the same way. This even applies to stores with the same corporate parent (I'm looking at you, Gap, Inc. The sizes at Old Navy bear virtually no relation to the sizes at Banana Republic).
I understand that stores want women to feel better about themselves and that consequently sizes have changed over time--today's 8 is yesterday's 14. My sister and I recently found a shirt of my mother's from college. It looked ridiculously small, like it was made for a twelve year old. We laughed at its itty-bittyness. Until we saw the "L" on the label. But I digress.
With no clear size consensus, the women of America are doomed to spend hours trying on different sizes and feeling badly about their bodies. Worse, women buy and then wear the wrong size all the time, in part because they self-identify as a certain size and refuse to buy something larger.
Some stores have "modern size" conversions so that you know that if you used to be an 8 but are now a 10 it's not your fault. Sizes at high-end stores (including those that don't carry above a 10) run much smaller than elsewhere. A designer 12 is smaller than an Old Navy 8. And so forth.
Get it together retail establishments. Make up new size labels that bear no relation to the past and are comparable store to store. Consider something radical like sizes based on letters if numbers are too judgmental. An "a" corresponding to a 0, and so forth. If the average American woman turns out to be an "h", she won't know that is supposed to make her feel fat.
Radio call-in shows
I have an elaborate morning routine. Because I have an arts job, I am lucky to be able to work from 10-6 most days, unless I have an evening meeting. Because my husband leaves the house before 7 and I am a light sleeper, I usually have three hours in the morning all to myself.
While I occasionally take this time to be productive and clean the house or go to the gym, most often I read newspapers and blogs and listen to the radio.
Now, when I say "the radio" please understand that despite the availability of satellite and internet radio, I mean one thing only: WBEZ, Chicago Public Radio. I'm a member, are you?
My lovely morning routine (which includes only about 20 minutes of hygiene and beautification, the better to form strong opinions) used to end during 848, WBEZ's weekday morning show about Chicago. I had it timed just right so that if I left for the car during the third break I would miss only the tiniest bit of the show and get to work just after the 10am BBC World News Report. It's thanks to 848 that I know the names of many Aldermen and understand what the Cook County Board is supposed to do.
Recently, however, something terrible has happened. Whether it's because the new host (the venerable Richard Steele, who I otherwise adore) prefers it, or because of budget cuts, the show is now frequently that most horrifying of things, a call-in show.
I listen to WBEZ because it is chock-full of people who are even more well-informed than I (despite the aformentioned three hours of newspaper and blog reading). I'm a member because it gives what I consider neutral coverage to important issues. (Side note: a conservative friend of mine almost had a heart attack recently when I complained that NPR and WBEZ weren't liberal enough for me. He confessed that any time he turns it on, he wants to call in and yell at them for being lefties. And yet, we are friends).
If I want to know what my friends think about an issue, I ask. If I care about my neighbor's feelings, I shout across the fence. If I want to know what the "average American" feels, or how a certain segment reacted to something, I want survey/poll data. I want a smart person on the radio to analyze it for me. I don't want to hear interviews with people on the street for more than 2 minutes (and only then if heavily edited) and I never want just anyone to call in.
You know why? Because people whom I have to assume are perfectly intelligent and articulate in regular life turn into inarticulate monsters when they call in. They add in extraneous "ums" and "you knows". They ramble away from their point (if they even had one). They self-importantly agree along with the response or interject inappropriately. Too often they are mouth breathers. Furthermore, because of the delay between picking up a phone to call and when actually going on air (assuming these calls are screened first), the callers almost always have a question or comment about something from minutes earlier in the conversation, or that responds to a generic question as opposed to the ongoing conversation between host, guest, and audience.
848's new format has ruined my morning routine. I feel very strongly about this. No more call-in shows, please. Or if you must have people call in, please instruct them to ask a succint question and then take their answer off the air. If you really want audience interaction, if you think that is the future of radio, have people email in their questions, but for the love of god, do not let them talk into the airwaves.
Obviously this does not even begin to address conservative talk radio. That is a different subject entirely, and there is not enough time for me to describe the strength of my feelings on that issue.
While I occasionally take this time to be productive and clean the house or go to the gym, most often I read newspapers and blogs and listen to the radio.
Now, when I say "the radio" please understand that despite the availability of satellite and internet radio, I mean one thing only: WBEZ, Chicago Public Radio. I'm a member, are you?
My lovely morning routine (which includes only about 20 minutes of hygiene and beautification, the better to form strong opinions) used to end during 848, WBEZ's weekday morning show about Chicago. I had it timed just right so that if I left for the car during the third break I would miss only the tiniest bit of the show and get to work just after the 10am BBC World News Report. It's thanks to 848 that I know the names of many Aldermen and understand what the Cook County Board is supposed to do.
Recently, however, something terrible has happened. Whether it's because the new host (the venerable Richard Steele, who I otherwise adore) prefers it, or because of budget cuts, the show is now frequently that most horrifying of things, a call-in show.
I listen to WBEZ because it is chock-full of people who are even more well-informed than I (despite the aformentioned three hours of newspaper and blog reading). I'm a member because it gives what I consider neutral coverage to important issues. (Side note: a conservative friend of mine almost had a heart attack recently when I complained that NPR and WBEZ weren't liberal enough for me. He confessed that any time he turns it on, he wants to call in and yell at them for being lefties. And yet, we are friends).
If I want to know what my friends think about an issue, I ask. If I care about my neighbor's feelings, I shout across the fence. If I want to know what the "average American" feels, or how a certain segment reacted to something, I want survey/poll data. I want a smart person on the radio to analyze it for me. I don't want to hear interviews with people on the street for more than 2 minutes (and only then if heavily edited) and I never want just anyone to call in.
You know why? Because people whom I have to assume are perfectly intelligent and articulate in regular life turn into inarticulate monsters when they call in. They add in extraneous "ums" and "you knows". They ramble away from their point (if they even had one). They self-importantly agree along with the response or interject inappropriately. Too often they are mouth breathers. Furthermore, because of the delay between picking up a phone to call and when actually going on air (assuming these calls are screened first), the callers almost always have a question or comment about something from minutes earlier in the conversation, or that responds to a generic question as opposed to the ongoing conversation between host, guest, and audience.
848's new format has ruined my morning routine. I feel very strongly about this. No more call-in shows, please. Or if you must have people call in, please instruct them to ask a succint question and then take their answer off the air. If you really want audience interaction, if you think that is the future of radio, have people email in their questions, but for the love of god, do not let them talk into the airwaves.
Obviously this does not even begin to address conservative talk radio. That is a different subject entirely, and there is not enough time for me to describe the strength of my feelings on that issue.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Hot Guys
You know what really gets my goat? When extremely hot guys chat you up at lunch and make suggestions about your menu choices and are extremely hot, and then DON'T ask for your phone number. Uh, excuse me? Don't you know that you and me and your sexy Australian accent belong together?
This post might perhaps approximate an experience I had today, and may be peripherally related to my not having had a date in 7 months.
This post might perhaps approximate an experience I had today, and may be peripherally related to my not having had a date in 7 months.
Friday, January 23, 2009
The Giving Tree
This book by Shel Silverstein is inappropriate for children and adults. The boy and the Giving Tree are not friends; the boy abuses the Giving Tree, manipulates it and takes advantage of its kindness and generosity repeatedly. These are not lessons to teach our children. The Giving Tree should literally be renamed the Doormat Tree, and all people who are abused should have to read it as part of a program of aversion therapy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
