Apparently today, December 15th, is the most dangerous day of the year for Californians on the road. I heard it brought up on 3 separate radio stations as I DROVE around the South Bay today. According to Allstate Insurance Company, over the past four years, there have been more car collisions on December 15th, than on any other day of the year.
Good thing I spent an exorbitant amount of time on the road today.
What was I doing? A whole lot of nothing!
I picked up 2 Christmas presents, returned 3 sweaters at Loehmann's, then stopped by the pet supply store and Trader Joes.
So y'know how you get hooked on something, maybe forget about it for a while, then rediscover it and it's as good as it was the first time? Well, today I rediscovered those pita chips with cinnamon and sugar they sell at TJ's. SOOOO GOOD!!! They are so good, in fact, that I couldn't let them ride in the trunk with the rest of the groceries. No, those crunchy, sweet, delicious bites had to ride shotgun to be near me (my mouth). I forgot how good they are. I ate (inhaled) a half (whole) bag on my way home (within the first quarter mile) - they are so good.
Anyway, I made it safely back home without colliding into any other cars. Now, it's nap time!
2010-12-15
2010-12-14
Return of the King
Sorry if you thought this was about the Lord of the Rings trilogy. It ain't.
Nay, this post is about the cyclical nature of life - and how the universe that revolves around me (doesn't everyone's?) always manages to balance itself out.
Yesterday, my husband and I began the process of landing our next place of residence. As of January 8th, we will be residents of Los Angeles proper. San Pedro, it's been real - but, let's face it, we never quite found our niche here. We loved our place - but it was just the island in an ocean of bad drivers and bad road conditions that we sought refuge to when we weren't at work or visiting friends & family in other parts of Southern California. This is good news! I like new things and am excited about our new place. I've already started mentally arranging what portions of our furniture will fit in our new place in their respective rooms...
Today, I went into work and was told it was my last day.
This is bad news, because:
- I like making money.
It has its silver lining, though:
- I didn't love the work;
- I was going to be moving farther away soon;
- And - once again - now I have time on my hands to focus on looking for a job that's a better fit.
The economy: 2
Me: 0
Do not pass GO, do not collect $200. I saw this coming, but didn't expect it so soon. But I guess when you're on a sinking ship, and you can't see the floor for the water - it's kinda hard to gauge things like this. And that's what it's been like - these past 9 months. Like jumping from sinking ship to sinking ship, with small hiatuses on life rafts in between. The first boat was my last longtime employer. They decided to downsize to a smaller boat and there simply wasn't room for me and two of my colleagues. Then as I doggy-paddled from buoy to buoy, waving my arms frantically at the large ships passing me in the night - completely ignoring me - I saw another boat. It was close by, but I knew it had a leak. Well, folks, you get on a sinking ship - you're either going to drown or have to jump back in the water and doggy-paddle to the buoys again.
In other words:
The Couch Commando is back!
Didja miss me?
2010-12-01
LOL
So I've been going to this hair salon near my work that I've been quite happy with. Whenever I go in (which, I'll admit, has only been 2 times over the past 4 months), everyone in the salon is Japanese. All the stylists are Japanese. All the customers are Japanese. A lot of bowing occurs when I walk in (maybe that's why I like it?). And I mean Japanese Japanese - not Japanese-American. English is definitely their second language, and I'm willing to bet Japanese was their first. The place is called Pia Salon. Look at their website! It's in Japanese! My point is, that this is a very Japanese-oriented business.
Anyway, I got an email from them today with the subject line: "Seasons Greetings". I click on the link and it takes me to their holiday greeting.
Check it out:
I dunno. I just thought it was hilarious that the fobbiest salon I know has two petulant Anglos plastered on their digital Christmas card. I wonder if their Japanese clientele got a different greeting...
Is it just me? Am I racist?
It doesn't bother me. I don't think it's wrong that they have non-Japanese people on their card. For all I care, they could have put a bald black man, a little red-headed girl, and a Maltese falcon on their card!
I guess it just... tickles my fancy, shall we say? What do you think?
Anyway, I got an email from them today with the subject line: "Seasons Greetings". I click on the link and it takes me to their holiday greeting.
Check it out:
WTF? Who are these chicks??
I dunno. I just thought it was hilarious that the fobbiest salon I know has two petulant Anglos plastered on their digital Christmas card. I wonder if their Japanese clientele got a different greeting...
Is it just me? Am I racist?
It doesn't bother me. I don't think it's wrong that they have non-Japanese people on their card. For all I care, they could have put a bald black man, a little red-headed girl, and a Maltese falcon on their card!
I guess it just... tickles my fancy, shall we say? What do you think?
2010-11-30
Oh, those British...
No, this isn't about Prince William & Kate Middleton. That's for another post.
Rather, check out this interesting article here... My husband stumbled across it today.
According to one Satoshi Kanazawa and a LSE researcher - if we have a girl, it means we're attractive. And if we have a boy, we're ugly but less likely to divorce. Can't decide which I'd prefer... ;)
Rather, check out this interesting article here... My husband stumbled across it today.
According to one Satoshi Kanazawa and a LSE researcher - if we have a girl, it means we're attractive. And if we have a boy, we're ugly but less likely to divorce. Can't decide which I'd prefer... ;)
2010-11-17
Bullseye
So once again my boss is out of town, which means I am working very hard trying to look busy. This also means – blogging marathon! Yay! We can do it! A post everyday! That no one will read! Whoohoo!
As you can see by the title & image at the top of the post, I am writing about an establishment we all know & love – Target.
Somehow, whenever I walk into a Target, the store seems to sense what I want and need – even before I myself realize. For example, the other day I went to Target to get some mundane household items – laundry detergent, sandwich baggies, lotion, etc. I thought I had everything I needed. After leaving the hardware section (after grabbing a pack of one-time-use Krazy Glues), I noticed I was passing by the infant/toddler section of the store. Now, as a mom-to-be, I have tried to be practical and limit how much baby stuff I look at – I don’t know the baby’s gender, I still have 6 months to go, and I plan on mooching as many of my friends’ & relatives’ hand-me-downs as possible. The only time I’ve stepped foot in a baby boutique store since finding out I was pregnant was to buy a gift for another gal. And I wasn’t allowed to linger or loiter as my husband was waiting in the car (ah, my dear husband).
So I definitely slowed down my pace as I walked by aisle after aisle of clothing, burping cloths, and pacifiers – tempted to enter one of the aisles and look at things up close, but intimidated by the crying children, frenzied parents, and other hooligans that were already occupying the precious aisle space. As I started to pick up the pace again, telling myself that it was still too soon – ALL THE LIGHTS RIGHT OVER THE BABY SECTION WENT OUT.
It was the eeriest thing in the world. Babies started screaming. Parents became anxious and started wheeling their carts out of the aisles, scratching their heads, wondering aloud. I expected the lights to turn back on fairly immediately, but they stayed off. I realized I was standing there, mouth agape.
Suddenly, all the aisles that had seemed crowded and all-too-boisterous were silent, empty, and dark. I slowly turned my cart to enter an aisle...
I proceeded to go up and down 3 or 4 of the aisles, touching all the receiving blankets, petting the fleece footed sleepers, and inhaling the soft gentle scent of baby products. I didn’t put anything in my basket, of course. But it was a nice glimpse into my future. A soft opening, if you will, to acclimate me to an area of Target that will probably be as familiar as the back of my hand in, oh, 25 weeks.
I didn’t think I was ready, but Target knew I was – given the right circumstances.
Thank you, Target. I love you.
Thank you, Target. I love you.
PS: I’d like to say as soon as I walked out of the aisles and went back to my normal business that the lights miraculously & instantaneously turned back on in dramatic fashion. But, no. They stayed off as I finished my shopping, paid and left the store. Still, I think it was a pretty special coincidence – don’t you?
2010-11-16
I just can't.
Pregnancy brings with it a whole host of lists and articles on what you can't or shouldn't eat, drink, or do. I don't know if it's because I'm the child of a physician (who always told me nothing was that bad or that great for you - all things in moderation) or because I'm a lifelong smart ass who just doesn't like being told what to do - but I just can't adhere to all these rules.
Following, is a list of those items I simply cannot live without - even for 9 months. Call me weak. Call me a horrible mother. But it just doesn't seem worth the stress or compromised quality of life I feel I'd be "suffering" by foregoing them...
1) Caffeine. Most publications say that up to 200mg of caffeine per day is ok. I try to imbibe about 199 mg/day. I did cut out full-caff coffee - I only drink decaf. And only one cup a day - and not even everyday at that. I also like my occasional glass of Trader Joe's Sweet Tea, or a cup of hot green tea latte.
2) Alcohol. An occasional sip of wine or beer will not ruin my baby. I'm quite certain. A recent LA Times article sited a British study that found that a pregnant woman could have the equivalent of up to one glass of wine/beer a week with no obvious implications on that child's cognitive development. Of course, for every article that ventures the occasional drink is ok, there are about 50 articles that warn pregnant women should categorically abstain from alcohol.
3) Raw food. I love lox. I LOVE LOX. And I LOVE SUSHI. I cannot go 9 months without lox or sushi, I'm now realizing. I actually DREAMED about sushi last night - no joke. In my dream, I was walking down a street (on some other mission of course) and happened to pass a plate of sashimi sitting on the curb. Just sitting there. Looking delicious. I'm sure I drooled a little extra into my pillow at that very moment. I'm not going to eat as much sushi/lox as I normally would. But one bagel with lox or a spicy tuna roll, every 2 to 3 months, methinks is ok. I also refuse to give up over medium eggs, or medium-rare cuts of meat. Ptooey.
So those are the big 3. I don't mind giving up hot dogs or questionable deli meats (uh, who doesn't already pass over slimy bologna??). I don't miss gin or Jack Daniels by any means. And I have no problem snubbing unpasteurized milk products and cigarettes.
I am trying to eat healthier in general (more fruits, vegetables & whole grains) - but I do have my minor slipups... such as my 2-day binge on KFC mashed potatoes & gravy - and my attempt to win $1 million in McDonald's Monopoly sweepstakes by buying the occasional large fries or breakfast meal (all I won was a free medium fries... how ironic). I drink way less soda than I used to, and try to opt for non-caffeinated sodas (which, by the way, are usually more expensive) when I do. I drink gallons and gallons of water (at the expense of my employer, hehe). And I try to exercise at least once a week. (Hey, it's better than NONE!)
You can judge me, if you will. But it won't change a thing. So there.
2010-11-09
9 to 5
Have I told you about my new boss? Well, it's already been a couple months, so not that new... He's 80+ years old and wears a hearing aid in both ears. He also vacillates from sweetheart to curmudgeon in 0.3 seconds - which only exacerbated my recent hormone-induced moodiness to the point where all my other coworkers are now deathly afraid of both of us because we yell at each other all day, everyday.
You see, my boss sits right next to me. The whole time he's at the office - from 9:30am to 4:00pm, with a half-hour break for lunch. He's right there. His desk is at a 90-degree angle to mine and when we're both seated at our desks with our chairs pushed in, our shoulders are a mere 2-feet apart. Some of the time he's (way) over at his desk making phone calls on his cell, in this CMU pit of reception we call our home away from home. I swear I've looked at my phone before and had NEGATIVE bars, the reception is so bad. Suffice to say, when my boss is on the phone, he has to yell and repeat himself a lot. When he's not on the phone or composing emails on a notepad for me to type up & send, he sits next to me, literally shoulder-to-shoulder, with a makeshift pointer made out of an old Bic ballpoint pen shaft and inverted cap so that the plastic clip part is the pointer.
Anyway, my point is that this makes for a somewhat stressful work place for me. And since he is a bit up in the years, he has his senior moments. Here's, verbatim, a very common conversation we have:
Boss: OK, put this brace 10' off of that one.
Me: [Cheerful] OK [clicks mouse, types some stuff, clicks mouse again]
Boss: Great. Perfect. Print that out for me.
Me: [Hits Ctrl+P & hands printout to him]
Boss: [After studying it for a bit] What's the spacing on these braces here?
Me: 10' on center.
Boss: [Scoffs] What? That won't work - why'd you space them out so far? They can't be over 7' apart!!
Me: [Demurely] Oh. I thought you told me to space them 10' apart. I'm sorry... [Click, type type, click]
Boss: Yeah! Good. Now fix it and print me out another copy.
Me: [Diligently] Ok!
So that's how that conversation went in August, when I first started working for him. Lately, however - what with my extra-sunny disposition - the "conversation" quickly disintegrates as such:
Boss: OK, put this brace 10' off of that one.
Me: [Incredulous] 10'? Are you sure? I thought 7' was the max.
Boss: [Scoffs] Well, yeah it is. But let's just show it at 10' for now.
Me: [Click, type type, click] OK. 10' on center.
Boss: [Pauses, staring at screen, breathing loudly] OK, what happens if you move them 3' closer together?
Me: [All cool be lost] [Exasperated sigh] Oh, you mean, so that they're 7' on center? The max? OK, let's "see". [CLICK CLACK, BANG BANG, CLICK]
Boss: Ok, yes. That's better. You shouldn't space them 10' apart like that...
Me: [Fuming]
I'm sure customers of the printing portion of our office must think I'm the most horrible person in the world. They'll be sitting across the room, waiting for copies, and all of a sudden they hear my shrill younger voice verbally abusing this frail old man. Thing is, he's not frail. And he's certainly not innocent. The man is crazy! He yells at me at least as much, if not more, than I yell back at him. And usually in the end, we both either calm down and laugh it off - or it just dies down and we keep working as though nothing happened.
So, really, it's just the way it is. The way it has to be. We've achieved a delicate balance of high-volume conversation, disagreement, and compromise. The cycle repeats itself hundreds of times each week. And, yes, if you were to walk in on us, without knowing anything, you'd probably think we were inches away from killing each other. But we're not.
We quite like each other, actually.
You see, my boss sits right next to me. The whole time he's at the office - from 9:30am to 4:00pm, with a half-hour break for lunch. He's right there. His desk is at a 90-degree angle to mine and when we're both seated at our desks with our chairs pushed in, our shoulders are a mere 2-feet apart. Some of the time he's (way) over at his desk making phone calls on his cell, in this CMU pit of reception we call our home away from home. I swear I've looked at my phone before and had NEGATIVE bars, the reception is so bad. Suffice to say, when my boss is on the phone, he has to yell and repeat himself a lot. When he's not on the phone or composing emails on a notepad for me to type up & send, he sits next to me, literally shoulder-to-shoulder, with a makeshift pointer made out of an old Bic ballpoint pen shaft and inverted cap so that the plastic clip part is the pointer.
Anyway, my point is that this makes for a somewhat stressful work place for me. And since he is a bit up in the years, he has his senior moments. Here's, verbatim, a very common conversation we have:
Boss: OK, put this brace 10' off of that one.
Me: [Cheerful] OK [clicks mouse, types some stuff, clicks mouse again]
Boss: Great. Perfect. Print that out for me.
Me: [Hits Ctrl+P & hands printout to him]
Boss: [After studying it for a bit] What's the spacing on these braces here?
Me: 10' on center.
Boss: [Scoffs] What? That won't work - why'd you space them out so far? They can't be over 7' apart!!
Me: [Demurely] Oh. I thought you told me to space them 10' apart. I'm sorry... [Click, type type, click]
Boss: Yeah! Good. Now fix it and print me out another copy.
Me: [Diligently] Ok!
So that's how that conversation went in August, when I first started working for him. Lately, however - what with my extra-sunny disposition - the "conversation" quickly disintegrates as such:
Boss: OK, put this brace 10' off of that one.
Me: [Incredulous] 10'? Are you sure? I thought 7' was the max.
Boss: [Scoffs] Well, yeah it is. But let's just show it at 10' for now.
Me: [Click, type type, click] OK. 10' on center.
Boss: [Pauses, staring at screen, breathing loudly] OK, what happens if you move them 3' closer together?
Me: [All cool be lost] [Exasperated sigh] Oh, you mean, so that they're 7' on center? The max? OK, let's "see". [CLICK CLACK, BANG BANG, CLICK]
Boss: Ok, yes. That's better. You shouldn't space them 10' apart like that...
Me: [Fuming]
I'm sure customers of the printing portion of our office must think I'm the most horrible person in the world. They'll be sitting across the room, waiting for copies, and all of a sudden they hear my shrill younger voice verbally abusing this frail old man. Thing is, he's not frail. And he's certainly not innocent. The man is crazy! He yells at me at least as much, if not more, than I yell back at him. And usually in the end, we both either calm down and laugh it off - or it just dies down and we keep working as though nothing happened.
So, really, it's just the way it is. The way it has to be. We've achieved a delicate balance of high-volume conversation, disagreement, and compromise. The cycle repeats itself hundreds of times each week. And, yes, if you were to walk in on us, without knowing anything, you'd probably think we were inches away from killing each other. But we're not.
We quite like each other, actually.
2010-10-29
2010-10-27
Light at the end of the tunnel...
Well, the first tunnel of - like - a zillion apparently.
I'm in the final weeks of my first trimester. And the fog is beginning to lift. The fog, that is, of extreme lethargy and bitchiness that had engulfed my life for the past month and a half.
For the past 6 or 7 weeks, I've felt like one dollar (you know, the opposite of a million?). I've felt bloated, water-retentive, fat, lazy, exhausted, impatient, intolerant, selfish, out-of-shape, cranky, cynical, and disenchanted. Sometimes all of the above, usually a combination of 5 or more.
I would like to attribute most of my recent "displacement" of emotional and physical self-image and well-being on hormones. (Much like I'd like to attribute most of my Twilight fanaticism on very early pregnant-but-didn't-know-it hormones too.) But in the end, there's no excuse for my actions and attitudes of late. And I feel really bad (finally) for those who suffered most - my husband and my boss.
Of course, I feel a little less guilty since my husband came home last night to tell me he "accidentally" threw his wedding band down one of the A/C vents in his car..
2010-10-25
How could I forget...
I don't know what was wrong with me on Friday, but I totally forgot one of my All-time ALL-TIME Cars I Hate::
FORD MUSTANGS
Hate 'em. I've never encountered a decent driver in a Mustang.
FORD MUSTANGS
Hate 'em. I've never encountered a decent driver in a Mustang.
2010-10-22
Don't hate the game, hate the player?
Every day, on my way to and from work, I come up with a new list: The List of Cars on the Road I Hate.
Some makes and models of cars consistently make this list, which means they qualify for my other list: The All-Time List of Cars on the Road I Hate.
In order to qualify for either list, I basically have to encounter your make/model of car on the road and have a very negative impression or experience with it. To make the latter list, this has to occur at least five times.
For example, yesterday afternoon on my home from work I was behind a black Toyota Prius who was more than just a little brake-happy. We were traveling down a one-lane road in Palos Verdes, and traffic was moving at around 30 to 40 mph. There are lots of traffic signals on this stretch of road, so it made for a lot of stop & go. But this person in front of me (in the black Prius) seemed to think the best way to take advantage of his/her hybrid was to quickly accelerate then slam on the brakes - over and over again - even when there was no reason for stopping or slowing down. The driver's erratic driving habits led me to put a little extra distance between that car and myself. But it still didn't make me immune to having to respond to their sudden going and stopping because, as there was a long line of cars behind me, I felt pressure to not leave TOO much room between us lest the cars behind me think I was an idiot. So, somewhere between Torrance and San Pedro, I decided I hated all black Priuses (Prii?).
You get the picture.
Over the past 14-odd years of being a driver in the state of California, my All-Time List has evolved into the following:
The All-Time List of Cars on the Road I Hate:
-All white cars (amended in 2000 to:) All white trucks, domestic sedans/coupes, BMWs, and minivans.
- All green trucks (whether they be compact Tacomas or giant GMCs with double tires in the back)
- All monster trucks on surface streets
- Chrysler 300s and Dodge Chargers, especially black ones (which makes up about 95% of 'em)
- PT Cruisers, especially purple ones
- Minivans driven by Asian males - they are especially insane (inane?) on the freeway
- Blue Corvettes
- Older white Camaros (actually, these fall under All White Domestic Coupes)
- Chevy HHRs and most Malibus (again, especially white ones)
- Silver BMW 7's driven by Asians (male or female)
- Lexuses (Lexi?) with super dark tinted windows
- All airport shuttle vans, especially the ones that drive 60 mph in the carpool lane
- Ford Excursions, especially when driven by a teenager or petite adult female
- Lexus LXs
My current list is basically the same as above, with the addition of:
- Pre-2004 (1st Generation) Priuses, especially seafoam ones.
- Light blue Honda CR-Vs
- Weaving Land Rovers
- Toyota Land Cruisers
and of course,
- Black Priuses
Strangely enough, I've never encountered a bad driver of a red Audi A3 or blue Saturn SL2. These types of cars must just attract people of a finer moral fiber...
Some makes and models of cars consistently make this list, which means they qualify for my other list: The All-Time List of Cars on the Road I Hate.
In order to qualify for either list, I basically have to encounter your make/model of car on the road and have a very negative impression or experience with it. To make the latter list, this has to occur at least five times.
For example, yesterday afternoon on my home from work I was behind a black Toyota Prius who was more than just a little brake-happy. We were traveling down a one-lane road in Palos Verdes, and traffic was moving at around 30 to 40 mph. There are lots of traffic signals on this stretch of road, so it made for a lot of stop & go. But this person in front of me (in the black Prius) seemed to think the best way to take advantage of his/her hybrid was to quickly accelerate then slam on the brakes - over and over again - even when there was no reason for stopping or slowing down. The driver's erratic driving habits led me to put a little extra distance between that car and myself. But it still didn't make me immune to having to respond to their sudden going and stopping because, as there was a long line of cars behind me, I felt pressure to not leave TOO much room between us lest the cars behind me think I was an idiot. So, somewhere between Torrance and San Pedro, I decided I hated all black Priuses (Prii?).
You get the picture.
Over the past 14-odd years of being a driver in the state of California, my All-Time List has evolved into the following:
The All-Time List of Cars on the Road I Hate:
-
- All green trucks (whether they be compact Tacomas or giant GMCs with double tires in the back)
- All monster trucks on surface streets
- Chrysler 300s and Dodge Chargers, especially black ones (which makes up about 95% of 'em)
- PT Cruisers, especially purple ones
- Minivans driven by Asian males - they are especially insane (inane?) on the freeway
- Blue Corvettes
- Older white Camaros (actually, these fall under All White Domestic Coupes)
- Chevy HHRs and most Malibus (again, especially white ones)
- Silver BMW 7's driven by Asians (male or female)
- Lexuses (Lexi?) with super dark tinted windows
- All airport shuttle vans, especially the ones that drive 60 mph in the carpool lane
- Ford Excursions, especially when driven by a teenager or petite adult female
- Lexus LXs
My current list is basically the same as above, with the addition of:
- Pre-2004 (1st Generation) Priuses, especially seafoam ones.
- Light blue Honda CR-Vs
- Weaving Land Rovers
- Toyota Land Cruisers
and of course,
- Black Priuses
Strangely enough, I've never encountered a bad driver of a red Audi A3 or blue Saturn SL2. These types of cars must just attract people of a finer moral fiber...
2010-10-21
A or B?
So I've been addicted to www.thebump.com for the last 4 weeks. Their message boards are extremely entertaining, informative, ridiculous, and at times haunting.
They also have these things called "pregnancy tickers" - two of which are displayed at the top of my blog. I can't decide which one I like better, so please help me by voting for your preference! One's a fairly straightforward countdown, and the other tracks the growth of my unborn baby by relating it to food items. Kinda twisted, yet endearing at the same time.
Danke!
P.S. My boss is in Milwaukee today, tomorrow, & Monday. My goal is to post every day he's gone. I've already played sudoku, cleaned out all of my email inboxes, and read 2 or 3 celebrity gossip sites... *Grin*
They also have these things called "pregnancy tickers" - two of which are displayed at the top of my blog. I can't decide which one I like better, so please help me by voting for your preference! One's a fairly straightforward countdown, and the other tracks the growth of my unborn baby by relating it to food items. Kinda twisted, yet endearing at the same time.
Danke!
P.S. My boss is in Milwaukee today, tomorrow, & Monday. My goal is to post every day he's gone. I've already played sudoku, cleaned out all of my email inboxes, and read 2 or 3 celebrity gossip sites... *Grin*
2010-10-19
The thing of it being is...
Sigh.
I've been a Bad Blogger of late.
But I can explain! If you noticed, my last couple blogs were somewhat lame - no pictures, not even any bold or text size changes. I actually cracked open my Toshiba laptop for the first time in 3 weeks so I could post this with the high quality of variety you have grown accustomed to on this fine blog.
That's because...
I am now the proud owner of an iPad!
(Yes, you should be jealous.)
It's AWESOME. Now, I don't own an iPhone or iPod Touch, so I never knew the wonder of instant web access or the curious satisfaction of collecting and hoarding apps and games - most of which I forget I installed and stumble across weeks later wondering to myself, "What is this?" I had a peek into that world - noticing how friends and relatives would be glued to their iPhones. I wondered what the big fuss was about. Well, now I know.
So far, the only cons I've come across are that I have limited capabilities when posting on my blog, I can't view anything Flash-related, and my eyesight is deteriorating at that much faster a rate since I basically come home every night and am glued to another, smaller screen.
The other morning, on Mark & Brian (KLOS 95.5's morning talk show hosts) were discussing annoying idioms and figures of speech that they either hated when other people say them, and/or hate that they themselves say them all the time. People called in with their pet peeves or bad habits. You know, phrases like:
"It is what it is"
"...you know what I mean?"
"You go, girl!"
"Long story short..."
"Tell me about it."
... You get the idea. Obviously some of them aren't that irritating - unless maybe you know someone, or interact on a daily basis with someone, who abuses them. At one point, a lady called in sounding almost hysterical because she was at her wit's end that one of her coworkers ALWAYS said "The thing of it being is..." She screamed over the radio, "What does that even mean?? It doesn't mean anything! It's a bunch of words and a waste of breath that conveys NOTHING!" She was really peeved.
I started wondering what kind of verbal idiosyncrasies I myself suffer from. I definitely go through my "words of the day" where I feel like I say the same word in conversation repetitively. Words such as "seriously" or "supposedly". I'll find myself replying in conversations all day with, "Exactly," or "Totally," over and over again, ad nauseam. I guess these phrases are just verbal crutches - like "er" or "um". It's what you say when you can't think of anything else, but still want to act as though you're engaged in the conversation. You know what I mean? Totally.
About a week ago, I was having trouble finding the right words in a conversation. It was a special kind of conversation - with my family - in which I had to make an announcement. In my entire life, I don't think I've ever announced anything. Well, not anything important. (Oh, I've blurted out lots of inane facts or opinions in very matter-of-fact ways over the years.) But when it comes to Big News, I'm pretty inexperienced. Most "big things" I've transmitted via email, or - back in the day - I'd drop hints until the other person started to pick up on it and guessed at the pertinent information.
But this time, I couldn't just drop hints because (a) I was on a time constraint, and (b) if I wanted people to guess at my announcement, I'd have to wait a couple months.
My big news was that I am pregnant.
And I was trying to tell my immediate family.
And I didn't know how.
So, the thing of it being was... that I just sat there. Mute. Like a statue. We were seated at a large round table in a Chinese-Korean restaurant - me, my husband (yes, he's the baby-daddy), my mother, my father, my brother and his two young children. And I just stared at the middle of the table. Waiting. At one point, during a seemingly-fortuitous lull in conversation, I said loudly, "So..."
But that was apparently not strong enough a signifier to my family that I had Big News. Because my brother looked right at me, then turned to my father and started telling a story about his work. And my mom decided it was time to leave the restaurant and got up from the table.
I did end up telling my family, later at my parents' house. My husband & I stopped by the store on our way from the restaurant to their house to pick up dessert and a bouquet of flowers for my mother. When we walked in the doorway and handed her the flowers, she asked why. And I told her it was because she was going to be a grandmother again. It wasn't ideal (my brother was on the sofa reading the paper and my father was in the other room just out of earshot), but I thought it was clever. And it got the job done.
I made my husband email his side of the family.
I love the modern age. I can just interact with people through my new iPad. I don't have to think of pertinent and clever things to say on the spot. I have time to edit, choose my words carefully, and go back and revise my drafts. I understand that's probably why my abilities in face-to-face communication have gotten so poor. To the point where I find myself sitting on my hands, mumbling, "Well, it is what it is," to ears that don't have to listen that well anymore.
Here's a picture - just because I can. And because it's what I'm eating for dinner.
I've been a Bad Blogger of late.
But I can explain! If you noticed, my last couple blogs were somewhat lame - no pictures, not even any bold or text size changes. I actually cracked open my Toshiba laptop for the first time in 3 weeks so I could post this with the high quality of variety you have grown accustomed to on this fine blog.
That's because...
I am now the proud owner of an iPad!
(Yes, you should be jealous.)
It's AWESOME. Now, I don't own an iPhone or iPod Touch, so I never knew the wonder of instant web access or the curious satisfaction of collecting and hoarding apps and games - most of which I forget I installed and stumble across weeks later wondering to myself, "What is this?" I had a peek into that world - noticing how friends and relatives would be glued to their iPhones. I wondered what the big fuss was about. Well, now I know.
So far, the only cons I've come across are that I have limited capabilities when posting on my blog, I can't view anything Flash-related, and my eyesight is deteriorating at that much faster a rate since I basically come home every night and am glued to another, smaller screen.
The other morning, on Mark & Brian (KLOS 95.5's morning talk show hosts) were discussing annoying idioms and figures of speech that they either hated when other people say them, and/or hate that they themselves say them all the time. People called in with their pet peeves or bad habits. You know, phrases like:
"It is what it is"
"...you know what I mean?"
"You go, girl!"
"Long story short..."
"Tell me about it."
... You get the idea. Obviously some of them aren't that irritating - unless maybe you know someone, or interact on a daily basis with someone, who abuses them. At one point, a lady called in sounding almost hysterical because she was at her wit's end that one of her coworkers ALWAYS said "The thing of it being is..." She screamed over the radio, "What does that even mean?? It doesn't mean anything! It's a bunch of words and a waste of breath that conveys NOTHING!" She was really peeved.
I started wondering what kind of verbal idiosyncrasies I myself suffer from. I definitely go through my "words of the day" where I feel like I say the same word in conversation repetitively. Words such as "seriously" or "supposedly". I'll find myself replying in conversations all day with, "Exactly," or "Totally," over and over again, ad nauseam. I guess these phrases are just verbal crutches - like "er" or "um". It's what you say when you can't think of anything else, but still want to act as though you're engaged in the conversation. You know what I mean? Totally.
About a week ago, I was having trouble finding the right words in a conversation. It was a special kind of conversation - with my family - in which I had to make an announcement. In my entire life, I don't think I've ever announced anything. Well, not anything important. (Oh, I've blurted out lots of inane facts or opinions in very matter-of-fact ways over the years.) But when it comes to Big News, I'm pretty inexperienced. Most "big things" I've transmitted via email, or - back in the day - I'd drop hints until the other person started to pick up on it and guessed at the pertinent information.
But this time, I couldn't just drop hints because (a) I was on a time constraint, and (b) if I wanted people to guess at my announcement, I'd have to wait a couple months.
My big news was that I am pregnant.
And I was trying to tell my immediate family.
And I didn't know how.
So, the thing of it being was... that I just sat there. Mute. Like a statue. We were seated at a large round table in a Chinese-Korean restaurant - me, my husband (yes, he's the baby-daddy), my mother, my father, my brother and his two young children. And I just stared at the middle of the table. Waiting. At one point, during a seemingly-fortuitous lull in conversation, I said loudly, "So..."
But that was apparently not strong enough a signifier to my family that I had Big News. Because my brother looked right at me, then turned to my father and started telling a story about his work. And my mom decided it was time to leave the restaurant and got up from the table.
I did end up telling my family, later at my parents' house. My husband & I stopped by the store on our way from the restaurant to their house to pick up dessert and a bouquet of flowers for my mother. When we walked in the doorway and handed her the flowers, she asked why. And I told her it was because she was going to be a grandmother again. It wasn't ideal (my brother was on the sofa reading the paper and my father was in the other room just out of earshot), but I thought it was clever. And it got the job done.
I made my husband email his side of the family.
I love the modern age. I can just interact with people through my new iPad. I don't have to think of pertinent and clever things to say on the spot. I have time to edit, choose my words carefully, and go back and revise my drafts. I understand that's probably why my abilities in face-to-face communication have gotten so poor. To the point where I find myself sitting on my hands, mumbling, "Well, it is what it is," to ears that don't have to listen that well anymore.
Here's a picture - just because I can. And because it's what I'm eating for dinner.
2010-10-06
Target: Tylenol
After I got off work today, I went to Target.
as usual, I went in muttering strict instructions to myself to buy the one thing I was there for, and NOTHING ELSE. I ended up with a $140 tab. The original item I went to Target for - $29.
Well, you know how you're supposed to learn something new every day? Today I learned two new things at my neighborhood Target.
1) There is a massive Tylenol recall and nobody knows about it. At least, I had no idea.
I probably stood in the "painkiller" section of the pharmacy for a good while scanning the shelves, looking for the signature red, yellow, and white packaging, until it finally occurred to me that I should ask for help. When I was able to flag down a nice young employee, she pointed to a section of the shelf that I was directly in front of (of course) and directed me to the purple and white boxes of generic Target acetamenophin She looked at me plainly and said, "All the Tylenol's been recalled."
What?? Tyelenol? Recalled? After gawking for a good beat I finally grabbed a 100-count bottle of generic acetaminophen and threw it into my cart, along with the other $110 worth of impulse purchases. I figured I'd just Google it later.
2) My neighborhood Target totally racial profiles!
After I paid for the egregious amount of unintended (and possibly unnecessary) items, I pushed my cart - ha, what a hapless fool I was to start out with a mere basket intending to just "run into Target and grab one thing" - toward the exit whilst artfully stuffing the guiltily lengthy receipt into my wallet and fishing out my keys, I noticed a Latino family with a small child already playing with a just-purchased toy getting waved over by one of the red-and-khaki-clad Target employees. He asked for their receipt, which they promptly gave him, and began to survey the items in their cart and comparing it, seemingly, to their receipt.
Just behind the Latino family was a Caucasian male with very obviously one single item. When he realized this was going to be an official exit checkpoint a la Costco or Frys, he too fished his receipt, which he had just stuffed into his pocket, to have it ready for the Target employee. I, too, after seeing all this, heaved a mighty sigh - took my wallet back out of my purse, unzipped it, and took out the receipt I had just put away.
BUT. ALL WAS FOR NAUGHT.
For as soon as the employee had checked the Latino family's receipt and waved them out, he swiftly walked back to what I then realized was his normal post, standing in between the entry and exit doors - observing all the incoming and outgoing customers.
Apparently, a three-year-old Latino boy with a small toy was the only threat here. Caucasian bachelors and Asian shopaholics were not a problem.
I thought about that whole scenario as I drove home. The employee must have been watching them for a while, for them to have piqued his suspicion. And if that were the case, then wouldn't he have watched them go through the checkout line and made sure that all the items were scanned and that the toy the little boy in the cart was holding wasn't skipped? Odd.
Anyway, back to Item #1, when I came home I Googled the whole Tylenol thing and apparently Johnson & Johnson did a "phantom recall", which is when a company uses a third party to buy out all the inventory already on store shelves, and skips the public announcement of an "official recall".
Oh, and if generic medication is supposedly just as good and oftentimes made at the same facilities as the name brand ones, shouldn't I be concerned about the generic meds I just purchased too???
It's a mystery...
So I guess I didn't actually LEARN anything at Target today - I just came up with more questions!
Well, maybe I learned one thing: to limit myself to 2 Target trips a month, no matter what I think I "need" and especially if I just need "one thing".
as usual, I went in muttering strict instructions to myself to buy the one thing I was there for, and NOTHING ELSE. I ended up with a $140 tab. The original item I went to Target for - $29.
Well, you know how you're supposed to learn something new every day? Today I learned two new things at my neighborhood Target.
1) There is a massive Tylenol recall and nobody knows about it. At least, I had no idea.
I probably stood in the "painkiller" section of the pharmacy for a good while scanning the shelves, looking for the signature red, yellow, and white packaging, until it finally occurred to me that I should ask for help. When I was able to flag down a nice young employee, she pointed to a section of the shelf that I was directly in front of (of course) and directed me to the purple and white boxes of generic Target acetamenophin She looked at me plainly and said, "All the Tylenol's been recalled."
What?? Tyelenol? Recalled? After gawking for a good beat I finally grabbed a 100-count bottle of generic acetaminophen and threw it into my cart, along with the other $110 worth of impulse purchases. I figured I'd just Google it later.
2) My neighborhood Target totally racial profiles!
After I paid for the egregious amount of unintended (and possibly unnecessary) items, I pushed my cart - ha, what a hapless fool I was to start out with a mere basket intending to just "run into Target and grab one thing" - toward the exit whilst artfully stuffing the guiltily lengthy receipt into my wallet and fishing out my keys, I noticed a Latino family with a small child already playing with a just-purchased toy getting waved over by one of the red-and-khaki-clad Target employees. He asked for their receipt, which they promptly gave him, and began to survey the items in their cart and comparing it, seemingly, to their receipt.
Just behind the Latino family was a Caucasian male with very obviously one single item. When he realized this was going to be an official exit checkpoint a la Costco or Frys, he too fished his receipt, which he had just stuffed into his pocket, to have it ready for the Target employee. I, too, after seeing all this, heaved a mighty sigh - took my wallet back out of my purse, unzipped it, and took out the receipt I had just put away.
BUT. ALL WAS FOR NAUGHT.
For as soon as the employee had checked the Latino family's receipt and waved them out, he swiftly walked back to what I then realized was his normal post, standing in between the entry and exit doors - observing all the incoming and outgoing customers.
Apparently, a three-year-old Latino boy with a small toy was the only threat here. Caucasian bachelors and Asian shopaholics were not a problem.
I thought about that whole scenario as I drove home. The employee must have been watching them for a while, for them to have piqued his suspicion. And if that were the case, then wouldn't he have watched them go through the checkout line and made sure that all the items were scanned and that the toy the little boy in the cart was holding wasn't skipped? Odd.
Anyway, back to Item #1, when I came home I Googled the whole Tylenol thing and apparently Johnson & Johnson did a "phantom recall", which is when a company uses a third party to buy out all the inventory already on store shelves, and skips the public announcement of an "official recall".
Oh, and if generic medication is supposedly just as good and oftentimes made at the same facilities as the name brand ones, shouldn't I be concerned about the generic meds I just purchased too???
It's a mystery...
So I guess I didn't actually LEARN anything at Target today - I just came up with more questions!
Well, maybe I learned one thing: to limit myself to 2 Target trips a month, no matter what I think I "need" and especially if I just need "one thing".
2010-10-04
2010-09-25
Read this
http://www.thescene.com.au/Lifestyle/Travel/San-Fran-vs-Los-Angeles-The-Smack-down/
Made me laugh out loud. An ongoing debate in our household - LA vs. SF, I came across this article a couple years ago, forgot about it, then just rediscovered it 15 minutes ago. It obviously over-simplifies and plays off stereotypes, but what good humorous piece doesn't?
Sigh.
Made me laugh out loud. An ongoing debate in our household - LA vs. SF, I came across this article a couple years ago, forgot about it, then just rediscovered it 15 minutes ago. It obviously over-simplifies and plays off stereotypes, but what good humorous piece doesn't?
Sigh.
2010-09-22
"Architectural Architect"
So I've been job-hunting with a new-found ferocity over the last 24 hours. That, and I've been desperately racking my brain for something to blog about so I can replace my last post (and therein the first thing you see when you visit this page).
I'm just a little peeved.
You see, before any architecture student steps foot into a studio, classroom, or lecture hall - we have ingrained and pounded into our brains that the title of "Architect" is sacred. Not just in the nebulous theoretical realm of design. But literally and legally. Most states and local jurisdiction have very explicit laws regarding the misuse and abuse of the title of "Architect". In fact, every month or so, I get a newsletter from the CAB (California Architects Board). For the most part it's filled with award recipients and uber-architects' names who are in the news for designing some high profile project or another, editorials about the Freedom Tower, and so forth. But the part that every self-respecting Architect & wanna-be architect flip to first - is the "ENFORCEMENT" section. This is where they list all the people who have been POSING as architects and have been caught - or those legitimate architects who have been behaving badly.
Some gems from the Enforcement section might go like this:
"JOHN DOE - formal reprimand and administrative penalty of $5,000 for unauthorized and improper use of the professional title 'Architect'."
"JOE BROWN, ARCHITECT - administrative penalty of $2,000 for two occurrences in which he engaged in the practice of architecture while his registration was on inactive status; reprimand for use of a noncompliantarchitectural seal and failure to affix the date of signature to a sheet of architectural drawings he sealed and signed."
Do you see how seriously these people take the title of "Architect"???
So why am I peeved? Because as I job-hunt, I'll type in the word "architect" into one of those mega job-seeking websites (like Monster, CareerBuilder, etc.) and all I get back are positions for:
- Data Systems Architects
- Solutions Architects
- User Interface Architects
- .NET Architects
- Lead Java Architect
- Software Architect
- ERP Application Architect
Once I filter out all the non-tech related posts, I'm usually left with 1-2 listings - for which I'm grossly under- or over-qualified for.
Apparently, in every other field outside of architecture - you can use the term Architect like it's a hand towel! And it makes it REALLY difficult for people like me to look for jobs...
Apparently, all these years - when people would ask me "Oh, so you're an architect!" and I'd have to bashfully explain "Well, no, I'm not an architect per se..." - were for naught! Because all I had to do was to CEASE wanting to be an Architect and I could call myself an Architect all day long!
2010-09-02
Hello, my name is Allison... and I'm a Twi-Hard.
I didn't want to write this post because I didn't want what I'm about to divulge to be public knowledge.
I am so hesitant, in fact, to go on with this entry that I wrote that first sentence above and literally just stared at my screen for a very long time. I am afraid, embarrassed, and rueful. I am terrified of what my fingers will let slip - the decrease in opinion and the shifting levels of respect that will occur after you finish reading this.
I have been sucked into the Twilight universe - "unconditionally and irrevocably".
(Yeah, I just "quoted" Twilight. Sigh.)
If you haven't at least heard of the 4-book series, written by a Mormon mother-of-3, Stephanie Meyer, then you probably also haven't heard of the Internet, sliced bread, or electricity. The Twilight saga - as it's often referred - was published between 2005 and 2008. The first film came out in 2007, and if you live in a small town or have a bargain theatre nearby, the third installment - Eclipse - is still playing. The fourth & fifth films are due out in 2011 & 2012 respectively.
It almost doesn't matter what the books are about.
The reason I'm writing this isn't because I now believe in vampires, or that I long to find my "Edward", or even that I value the "love story" aspect of the books at all. I am writing this as a sort of catharsis - a dialectical purging of all the nonsensical gibberish that has bombarded my mind & body since I started reading these damned books. And I do not use the word "damned" lightly.
To knock Stephanie Meyer's writing, I believe, is a fan's weak attempt to dislodge and debase some of his/her own fervor. Like an alcoholic parent telling their child, "Don't drink beer - it tastes like crap." Yes, in some respects that may be true - but the real reason behind the statement is the parent's greedy fear of keeping their beloved liquid unattractive to new prospects & potential competition. The writing is simple, straightforward, and honest. (The editing, on the other hand, deserves much criticism.) Meyer - in fact - is talented. She has somehow taken sloppy grammar and a severely limited lexicon and weaved it into a fine, tightly bound mesh that quickly and firmly envelops the reader. To call these books "page-turners" is perhaps one of the harshest understatements of all time. And to disregard her writing is to ignore the very reason that this series is an international phenomenon.
Oh, did I mention the melodrama?
Everything about Twilight is EXTREMELY MELODRAMATIC.
1. The base storyline is melodramatic: The most normal and plainest girl falls torridly in love with the one vampire who is most attracted to her blood. Her best friend, a shape-shifting werewolf & arch nemesis of vampires, falls madly in love with her. Enter love triangle, stage left. And, action.
2. The characters are melodramatic: Edward - the only one of his "family" who hasn't paired up yet. Bella - the ridiculously selfless, trouble-prone daughter from a broken home. Jacob - the hot-blooded, ever growing, ever bulging, Native American with a disabled father, deceased mother, and fierce tribal ties that bind.
3. The setting is melodramatic: A small town in Washington that is almost constantly draped in mist & clouds. High school.
4. The writing tone is melodramatic: Hello? The whole (well, almost) story is told from the point of view of a teenage girl!
The extreme melodrama manifests in an emotional roller coaster and gripping romance that left me utterly exhausted. It also left my heart aching. It also derailed my psychological well-being, my sleep schedule, and my level of concentration at work, behind the wheel, during conversations with friends, family, my husband...
But the kicker! Oh, the kicker! The reason I know this series of books has REALLY had an effect on me - I've lost my appetite.
Sound the gong and light the warning fire! Pigs are flying and hell hath frozen over!
For those of you who don't know me, I eat. I love eating. I could eat more after I've done eating... and then have dessert. I like to talk about food while I'm ingesting and digesting it. My stomach knows no bounds. My appetite has a mind of its own. I've never been very successful at dieting because that switch that some people have in their heads - the one they can just flip to "off" and they just don't eat, or they stop eating when they're full? I don't have that switch. Never have.
So for me to lose my appetite - for food to have lost all taste and savory and appeal to me - this is a HUGE DEAL, people. HUGE.
Something about the suspenseful, undulating story that is the Twilight saga has made me addicted to that heartachy, unfulfilled, and ever-longing feeling. I think being hungry allows me to wallow in and revisit those initial raw feelings I had when I first began reacting to Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and then - finally - Breaking Dawn. (Oh, and don't forget the first 160-odd pages of Midnight Sun - y'know, Twilight written from Edward's perspective? Available online in PDF format at Stephanie Meyer's website. Yeah, I read that too.)
I still eat my meals, mind you. Lunch & dinner, everyday. I'm not a masochist. I don't think I've lost any noticeable weight. I just find myself holding off better between meals. I don't snack anymore. When I do sit down to a meal, I don't scarf it down with as much delight and relish. I stop eating well before I'm full (or overstuffed - which is when I used to stop eating), and when I'm done I don't promptly start thinking about my next meal (which is also what I used to do). One of my favorite things to do currently is re-read portions of the Twilight series while my stomach grumbles. Fighting off hunger until I just can't stand it, trying to satisfy my physical appetite by consuming the hunger-ridden words on the page.
Perhaps this is just a phase, and it will wear off with time. As the draw of the Twilight saga lessens and I once again get absorbed into the trivial pursuits of daily life, I'm sure I'll be back to my borderline food addict ways.
But until then, what an idea! How to market such a wonder!
The Twilight diet. And you heard it here first.
I am so hesitant, in fact, to go on with this entry that I wrote that first sentence above and literally just stared at my screen for a very long time. I am afraid, embarrassed, and rueful. I am terrified of what my fingers will let slip - the decrease in opinion and the shifting levels of respect that will occur after you finish reading this.
I have been sucked into the Twilight universe - "unconditionally and irrevocably".
(Yeah, I just "quoted" Twilight. Sigh.)
If you haven't at least heard of the 4-book series, written by a Mormon mother-of-3, Stephanie Meyer, then you probably also haven't heard of the Internet, sliced bread, or electricity. The Twilight saga - as it's often referred - was published between 2005 and 2008. The first film came out in 2007, and if you live in a small town or have a bargain theatre nearby, the third installment - Eclipse - is still playing. The fourth & fifth films are due out in 2011 & 2012 respectively.
It almost doesn't matter what the books are about.
The reason I'm writing this isn't because I now believe in vampires, or that I long to find my "Edward", or even that I value the "love story" aspect of the books at all. I am writing this as a sort of catharsis - a dialectical purging of all the nonsensical gibberish that has bombarded my mind & body since I started reading these damned books. And I do not use the word "damned" lightly.
To knock Stephanie Meyer's writing, I believe, is a fan's weak attempt to dislodge and debase some of his/her own fervor. Like an alcoholic parent telling their child, "Don't drink beer - it tastes like crap." Yes, in some respects that may be true - but the real reason behind the statement is the parent's greedy fear of keeping their beloved liquid unattractive to new prospects & potential competition. The writing is simple, straightforward, and honest. (The editing, on the other hand, deserves much criticism.) Meyer - in fact - is talented. She has somehow taken sloppy grammar and a severely limited lexicon and weaved it into a fine, tightly bound mesh that quickly and firmly envelops the reader. To call these books "page-turners" is perhaps one of the harshest understatements of all time. And to disregard her writing is to ignore the very reason that this series is an international phenomenon.
Oh, did I mention the melodrama?
Everything about Twilight is EXTREMELY MELODRAMATIC.
1. The base storyline is melodramatic: The most normal and plainest girl falls torridly in love with the one vampire who is most attracted to her blood. Her best friend, a shape-shifting werewolf & arch nemesis of vampires, falls madly in love with her. Enter love triangle, stage left. And, action.
2. The characters are melodramatic: Edward - the only one of his "family" who hasn't paired up yet. Bella - the ridiculously selfless, trouble-prone daughter from a broken home. Jacob - the hot-blooded, ever growing, ever bulging, Native American with a disabled father, deceased mother, and fierce tribal ties that bind.
3. The setting is melodramatic: A small town in Washington that is almost constantly draped in mist & clouds. High school.
4. The writing tone is melodramatic: Hello? The whole (well, almost) story is told from the point of view of a teenage girl!
The extreme melodrama manifests in an emotional roller coaster and gripping romance that left me utterly exhausted. It also left my heart aching. It also derailed my psychological well-being, my sleep schedule, and my level of concentration at work, behind the wheel, during conversations with friends, family, my husband...
But the kicker! Oh, the kicker! The reason I know this series of books has REALLY had an effect on me - I've lost my appetite.
Sound the gong and light the warning fire! Pigs are flying and hell hath frozen over!
For those of you who don't know me, I eat. I love eating. I could eat more after I've done eating... and then have dessert. I like to talk about food while I'm ingesting and digesting it. My stomach knows no bounds. My appetite has a mind of its own. I've never been very successful at dieting because that switch that some people have in their heads - the one they can just flip to "off" and they just don't eat, or they stop eating when they're full? I don't have that switch. Never have.
So for me to lose my appetite - for food to have lost all taste and savory and appeal to me - this is a HUGE DEAL, people. HUGE.
Something about the suspenseful, undulating story that is the Twilight saga has made me addicted to that heartachy, unfulfilled, and ever-longing feeling. I think being hungry allows me to wallow in and revisit those initial raw feelings I had when I first began reacting to Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and then - finally - Breaking Dawn. (Oh, and don't forget the first 160-odd pages of Midnight Sun - y'know, Twilight written from Edward's perspective? Available online in PDF format at Stephanie Meyer's website. Yeah, I read that too.)
I still eat my meals, mind you. Lunch & dinner, everyday. I'm not a masochist. I don't think I've lost any noticeable weight. I just find myself holding off better between meals. I don't snack anymore. When I do sit down to a meal, I don't scarf it down with as much delight and relish. I stop eating well before I'm full (or overstuffed - which is when I used to stop eating), and when I'm done I don't promptly start thinking about my next meal (which is also what I used to do). One of my favorite things to do currently is re-read portions of the Twilight series while my stomach grumbles. Fighting off hunger until I just can't stand it, trying to satisfy my physical appetite by consuming the hunger-ridden words on the page.
Perhaps this is just a phase, and it will wear off with time. As the draw of the Twilight saga lessens and I once again get absorbed into the trivial pursuits of daily life, I'm sure I'll be back to my borderline food addict ways.
But until then, what an idea! How to market such a wonder!
The Twilight diet. And you heard it here first.
2010-08-10
Resumes #50 thru ??
As the days of August quietly vanish like stars at daybreak, the sense of desperation for finding another job seems to compound exponentially every night after dinner as I sit with my laptop on - where else - my lap, on the couch, next to my husband as he either watches TV or plays video games.
Rather than waiting (impatiently) for job postings on my 3 go-to sites - Archinect, AIALA, and Craigslist - anymore, I've decided to go the proactive route.
I go to the directory of every architect/firm registered with the AIA (American Institute of Architects) and, starting from Z (because I figure other hunters started from A - suckas!), I go to the website of each architect or firm, discover their email address - sometimes they even have actual job opportunities listed, although most don't and just have the generic "we're always looking for talent blah blah don't hesitate to send us your examples of work and resume blah blah" - and write a semi-custom cover letter, attach my resume/ref letter/samples of work, and click "Send".
I have very little criteria for the types of firms I send my resume to - they could specialize in hospitals, schools, restaurant chains, corporate interiors, or houses (hey, I know houses!) They range from one architect working out of his home (hey, what have I got to lose?) to international firms with 6 worldwide offices (fat chance - but, hey, what have I got to lose?). There have only been 2 places out of the first 23 listings on the directory that I didn't send a resume to - one was a 1-man shop in San Dimas, and the other was a 4-man shopping mall design team in Santa Fe Springs with pictures on their website that looked like they were taken in the 80s.
Having had to work all 5 days last week (I know, poor me!), I had very little time & energy when I got home to job hunt. So over the weekend, and today, I've been a very busy bee sending out resume after resume - cover letter after cover letter - explaining to this Human Resources Manager and that Office Director how I would be a vital member of their team and hit the ground running with my strong set of technical skills even though I lack practical experience in their firm's specific field of architecture...
Didn't you know I've always wanted to work in Urban Planning/Retail Design/Office Interiors/Waste Management Facility Design/Healthcare Campuses????
Like, since forever!
2010-08-09
Mandoo Can-Do
Mandoo is the Korean word for dumpling.
Gun mandoo is pan-fried (or grilled) - think gyoza at a Japanese restaurant.
Mool mandoo (mool means water) is boiled - think wonton soup.
Jjim mandoo is steamed - like the famous Din Tai Fung dumplings.
And Tuigim mandoo is deep-fried - like the crumpled-up-napkin-shape wontons you get with American Chinese take-out.
I hadn't made mandoo since I was a youngster - helping my Grandma, sitting/squatting on newspaper strewn across the kitchen floor, with a giant stainless steel bowl filled with stuffing, what seemed like thousands of lightly-floured mandoo skins, and a bowl of egg wash. I've always wanted to make mandoo on my own, but always forgot to buy the skins, forgot to buy ground meat, excuses, excuses, excuses.
Finally - all the stars & planets aligned, and I made mandoo for the first time - all by myself - last weekend.
I had gone to the Korean market earlier in the week and bought fresh ground beef & pork (the ground beef was $0.99/pound!), remembered to buy the skins, and picked up some kimchi & super cheap green onions (usually 10 bunches for $1).
When my mom and grandma made mandoo - I don't remember exactly what ingredients (nor in what proportions) they used, but I think I did a pretty good job of eyeballing it. Here's my ingredient list, to the best of my estimation...
INGREDIENTS:
1/2# ground beef
1/2# ground pork
1 bunch green onions - washed, drained & diced (about 3/4 cup)
1 cup diced kimchi
1 egg
Egg wash (I happened to have just egg whites leftover from a custard recipe - you can use a traditional egg wash of 1 whole egg & some water)
salt
white pepper
oil & water for frying
Step 1:
Mix ground meats, diced green onions, kimchi & 1 whole egg in a bowl. (The best way to this is by hand - I wore a disposable plastic glove just like Mom. Grandma always dug in, bare-knuckle.) Season to taste with salt & pepper. (Warning: Ingestion of raw meat and dairy products is not recommended by the FDA and may cause illness - but my mom does it all the time... just be careful & consider yourself forewarned.)
Step 2:
Prep a cookie tray or baking sheet, lined with wax paper. Open package of "potsticker/wonton skins" or comparable product (or make your own). Prepare egg wash in a small bowl.
Step 3:
Get into the groove! Peel off a skin, spoon approximately 2/3 Tablespoon of stuffing into the middle of the skin in an oval shape. Dip your finger in the egg wash and moisten edges of half the circumference (2 of 4 sides if using the square skins). Starting from the middle - join 2 opposite edges and smooth together to make a nice half-moon shape.
Repeat until you've used up all the skins or all the stuffing - whichever comes first! I had stuffing leftover and made little patties (thinking back, I should have dumped the rest of the egg whites and some flour in too, so they'd stick together better... but they tasted just fine albeit crumbly!)
Step 4:
After heating up a small amount of oil (less than 1 Ts) in a large pan/skillet, I fried the meat patties first. I did this deliberately to get the pan/oil "dirty" for better coloring on the gun mandoo.
Then I started freaming (this is what I call the method of frying in oil & water at the same time) the mandoo. With a little bit of oil in the pan, I placed 3-4 mandoo (don't crowd them) in the pan - then added a splash of water and covered with a lid. Depending on how fatty your mandoo are (and mine were bursting at the seams) - adjust the flame strength and cooking time per side.
I kept my flame on medium-low and cooked each side for 3-4 minutes.
If you start out with a "clean" pan/oil - you don't get that great browning - but rest assured they are just as good!
I fried up 8-9 mandoo for me and the Spouse's brunch. The rest I stored with layers of wax paper between and froze. They'll be good pan-fried, dropped in with some ramen, or steamed at a later date. I think they should definitely keep for up to a month (if not up to 3 months) in the freezer.
For the ones we ate immediately, I whipped up my usual dumpling/jun dipping sauce:
INGREDIENTS:
1 part soy sauce
2/3 part rice vinegar
Splash of mirin
Splash of sesame oil
Sprinkle of sesame seeds
Dash of gochugaru (red chili pepper powder)
Stir briskly together & enjoy!
Gun mandoo is pan-fried (or grilled) - think gyoza at a Japanese restaurant.
Mool mandoo (mool means water) is boiled - think wonton soup.
Jjim mandoo is steamed - like the famous Din Tai Fung dumplings.
And Tuigim mandoo is deep-fried - like the crumpled-up-napkin-shape wontons you get with American Chinese take-out.
I hadn't made mandoo since I was a youngster - helping my Grandma, sitting/squatting on newspaper strewn across the kitchen floor, with a giant stainless steel bowl filled with stuffing, what seemed like thousands of lightly-floured mandoo skins, and a bowl of egg wash. I've always wanted to make mandoo on my own, but always forgot to buy the skins, forgot to buy ground meat, excuses, excuses, excuses.
Finally - all the stars & planets aligned, and I made mandoo for the first time - all by myself - last weekend.
I had gone to the Korean market earlier in the week and bought fresh ground beef & pork (the ground beef was $0.99/pound!), remembered to buy the skins, and picked up some kimchi & super cheap green onions (usually 10 bunches for $1).
When my mom and grandma made mandoo - I don't remember exactly what ingredients (nor in what proportions) they used, but I think I did a pretty good job of eyeballing it. Here's my ingredient list, to the best of my estimation...
INGREDIENTS:
1/2# ground beef
1/2# ground pork
1 bunch green onions - washed, drained & diced (about 3/4 cup)
1 cup diced kimchi
1 egg
Egg wash (I happened to have just egg whites leftover from a custard recipe - you can use a traditional egg wash of 1 whole egg & some water)
salt
white pepper
oil & water for frying
Step 1:
Mix ground meats, diced green onions, kimchi & 1 whole egg in a bowl. (The best way to this is by hand - I wore a disposable plastic glove just like Mom. Grandma always dug in, bare-knuckle.) Season to taste with salt & pepper. (Warning: Ingestion of raw meat and dairy products is not recommended by the FDA and may cause illness - but my mom does it all the time... just be careful & consider yourself forewarned.)
Step 2:
Prep a cookie tray or baking sheet, lined with wax paper. Open package of "potsticker/wonton skins" or comparable product (or make your own). Prepare egg wash in a small bowl.
Step 3:
Get into the groove! Peel off a skin, spoon approximately 2/3 Tablespoon of stuffing into the middle of the skin in an oval shape. Dip your finger in the egg wash and moisten edges of half the circumference (2 of 4 sides if using the square skins). Starting from the middle - join 2 opposite edges and smooth together to make a nice half-moon shape.
Repeat until you've used up all the skins or all the stuffing - whichever comes first! I had stuffing leftover and made little patties (thinking back, I should have dumped the rest of the egg whites and some flour in too, so they'd stick together better... but they tasted just fine albeit crumbly!)
Step 4:
After heating up a small amount of oil (less than 1 Ts) in a large pan/skillet, I fried the meat patties first. I did this deliberately to get the pan/oil "dirty" for better coloring on the gun mandoo.
Then I started freaming (this is what I call the method of frying in oil & water at the same time) the mandoo. With a little bit of oil in the pan, I placed 3-4 mandoo (don't crowd them) in the pan - then added a splash of water and covered with a lid. Depending on how fatty your mandoo are (and mine were bursting at the seams) - adjust the flame strength and cooking time per side.
I kept my flame on medium-low and cooked each side for 3-4 minutes.
If you start out with a "clean" pan/oil - you don't get that great browning - but rest assured they are just as good!
I fried up 8-9 mandoo for me and the Spouse's brunch. The rest I stored with layers of wax paper between and froze. They'll be good pan-fried, dropped in with some ramen, or steamed at a later date. I think they should definitely keep for up to a month (if not up to 3 months) in the freezer.
For the ones we ate immediately, I whipped up my usual dumpling/jun dipping sauce:
INGREDIENTS:
1 part soy sauce
2/3 part rice vinegar
Splash of mirin
Splash of sesame oil
Sprinkle of sesame seeds
Dash of gochugaru (red chili pepper powder)
Stir briskly together & enjoy!
2010-08-03
49 resumes, 4 interviews, 1 part-time job
I know, forty-nine resumes doesn't sound like a lot. But that's due to the fact that there are probably 5-6 job postings per week. Of those 5-6 postings, I will qualify, barely qualify, or be over-qualified for 0-2 of them. I have not been gainfully employed for 151 days (21.38 weeks) now. As I near my 5 month mark, I'd like to share my "Greatest Hits" reel of my job hunt thus far...
Special Moment #15
Realize that, after my first unemployment check, I don't 't seem to be getting another check, or a claims form for another check, in the mail. Battle with EDD, a.k.a. "Employment Development Department," via phone lines (that no one ever picks up and keeps hanging up on me because all their lines are busy and there's basically no chance in hell I'll talk to someone, but while I'm on hold for 15 minutes before I hear that *click*, the recording is cheerfully telling me - over and over and over again, and at a volume exponentially higher than the elevator music between these announcements - how they've generously extended their hours of service to accommodate the increased volume of calls) and online forms (with a guaranteed 10-day turnaround - oh, you mean 6 days AFTER our rent is due and I won't even need the money anymore because I'll probably be moving back into my parents' house after getting evicted as delinquent tenants? Thanks!) for 2.5 weeks. Finally get a new claims form 4 weeks later.
Special Moment #31
Realize, just before my first interview in almost 6 years, that my brand new interview suit jacket has sleeves that go down to the first knuckle on my middle fingers, and when I reach out to shake the hand of my interviewer I just give him a handful of scratchy grey Ann Taylor wool gabardine with a warm balmy fingertip poking out. He literally grasps my whole hand (because my thumb didn't have enough room to wrap between his thumb and hand like a normal person when they shake hands - y'know, because it was constricted by my too-long sleeve), has a momentary distance in his eyes as he probably wonders what's wrong with my right hand, and I think to myself - "What a great first impression, Alli! Tally ho!" (Yes, the voice inside my head is that of a genteel middle-aged British man. What of it?)
Special Moment #97
Walk into an office - think that I've come in the secondary way or back exit somehow (because there were no markings on the door and it seemed like I walked into the corner of a large room with 6-7 cubicles, and not an "official" entrance to a business that would most likely have a waiting area and/or a receptionist with a some sort of sign or nameplate assuring me that I was in the right place). Walk back out in the hallway, pace to the doors on either side of it - one of them is open and I ask the girl who looks up from her receptionist-type desk where the main entrance to "XYZ" Architects is, and she motions to the door I just walked out of - so I walk back to that door, open it and fully step into the office completely perplexed. The in-room temperature feels about 82 degrees and I hear talk radio at a barely audible volume in the background. Then, amid the sea of (I am now realizing mainly empty) cubicles, a lone head pops up - ear to phone - and then a hand gesturing me to come in, then gesturing the number "1" - as in "Give me one second". Then the head disappears again. I wait patiently and look around the empty-but-one room as my hopes for this job prospect sink considerably.
Just sent out 2 more resumes tonight...
wish me luck.
(Oh, and I did get those jacket sleeves altered.)
2010-07-24
Films that make you go "Hmmm"
Once in a while, you watch a movie, time passes, and slowly but surely - and with increasing frequency & intensity - you start to think back to the movie, which at first you didn't think much of.
I watched Primer back in March, during my I-just-got-laid-off-now-I'm-going-to-watch-as-movies-as-humanly-possible phase, via Netflix Instant Watch, with my husband one evening. I can't remember if someone had recommended the movie to me, or if I'd read about it - or maybe Netflix itself suggested it to me based on my past cinematic likes/dislikes. I've deliberately not linked to its IMDB page, or even put an image of the movie poster up on this post, because if you are going to watch it after reading this - I want you to go into it knowing as little as I did.
I don't want to say the movie "haunts" me, but I have found myself thinking about it more and more lately (4 months later). I'm not sure if something in my daily life or on the news triggered it, but as I do brainless mundane things - oh, like blogging - my mind starts to wander and I start thinking about the movie, its implications, and all the plot twists. Bottom line: I like how this movie made me feel and think - and it pretty much tops my current Top 10 Recommendable Movies list.
What I will tell you is that the film is of science fiction genre. It's about time travel. It's very low budget and has, like, a 7-person cast.
That's all I'm going to say. If you've watched it already - or if you watch it in the near future - please send me your thoughts and comments...
I watched Primer back in March, during my I-just-got-laid-off-now-I'm-going-to-watch-as-movies-as-humanly-possible phase, via Netflix Instant Watch, with my husband one evening. I can't remember if someone had recommended the movie to me, or if I'd read about it - or maybe Netflix itself suggested it to me based on my past cinematic likes/dislikes. I've deliberately not linked to its IMDB page, or even put an image of the movie poster up on this post, because if you are going to watch it after reading this - I want you to go into it knowing as little as I did.
I don't want to say the movie "haunts" me, but I have found myself thinking about it more and more lately (4 months later). I'm not sure if something in my daily life or on the news triggered it, but as I do brainless mundane things - oh, like blogging - my mind starts to wander and I start thinking about the movie, its implications, and all the plot twists. Bottom line: I like how this movie made me feel and think - and it pretty much tops my current Top 10 Recommendable Movies list.
What I will tell you is that the film is of science fiction genre. It's about time travel. It's very low budget and has, like, a 7-person cast.
That's all I'm going to say. If you've watched it already - or if you watch it in the near future - please send me your thoughts and comments...
2010-07-21
Dire qu'il n'est pas si!
So I love when smaller human-interest stories on the news become these huge blown-out-of-proportion big deals (especially, ahem, if maybe that was the original intent?).
Case in point:
Baskin Robbins is retiring five flavors, including French Vanilla.
OK. I admit I almost never get French Vanilla when I go to BR, but I do consider it a classic flavor - like chocolate & strawberry. In fact, I'd probably order French Vanilla over plain vanilla any day of the week. And I agree with Mr. Muskett (in the article I linked to above) that you CAN tell the difference when you put FV in a root beer (or coke) float vs. regular vanilla!
I don't know what BR is thinking, but they've definitely been getting some great "free" publicity. I hope this isn't just a hoax like when Disney claims they're "locking movies in the vault" and then just bring them back 5 years later, digitally enhanced with added extras that nobody could ever want or care about.
But just in case, I guess I'll go get my "last" French Vanilla cone - just so I can tell my grandkids about it some day. You know, how BR used to have a flavor that was like a discolored strangely yellow version vanilla...
Oo la la!
*Kisses fingertips on right hand and then quickly spreads fingers out as though exploding*
Case in point:
Baskin Robbins is retiring five flavors, including French Vanilla.
OK. I admit I almost never get French Vanilla when I go to BR, but I do consider it a classic flavor - like chocolate & strawberry. In fact, I'd probably order French Vanilla over plain vanilla any day of the week. And I agree with Mr. Muskett (in the article I linked to above) that you CAN tell the difference when you put FV in a root beer (or coke) float vs. regular vanilla!
I don't know what BR is thinking, but they've definitely been getting some great "free" publicity. I hope this isn't just a hoax like when Disney claims they're "locking movies in the vault" and then just bring them back 5 years later, digitally enhanced with added extras that nobody could ever want or care about.
But just in case, I guess I'll go get my "last" French Vanilla cone - just so I can tell my grandkids about it some day. You know, how BR used to have a flavor that was like a discolored strangely yellow version vanilla...
Oo la la!
*Kisses fingertips on right hand and then quickly spreads fingers out as though exploding*
2010-07-12
Monday night din-din quickie
Yum! I have to say one of my favorite recipes in The Joy of Cooking is Ms. Rombauer et al's Tandoori Marinade (p. 85, 1997 ed.). It made for a great focus to my 40-minute meal tonight.
I got off work late today and had errands to run, so I didn't get home until 7:20. Once I'd unloaded the car, checked the mail, and fed kitty, it was 7:40pm - "Wheel of Fortune" was well under way, my husband had just messaged he was on his way home, and I had at least 2 loads of laundry I HAD to do tonight. (Last dryer load is juuust finishing up now.)
Forty minutes later, I had dinner for two and then some -
- 2 Tandoori chicken breasts (BBQ-grilled)
- 1/3 La Brea Bakery French batard, warmed in the oven then sliced
- Romaine salad with grilled corn (made it yesterday), gruyere cheese, green grapes, Ranch dressing
- Garlic confit (thanks to YH) for the bread instead of butter
- Skinny Dip beer (by New Belgium Brewing Company, the makers of Fat Tire) for me, watered-down apple juice for the spouse
Sorry I don't have a photo - but take my word for it, it was goooood!
I got off work late today and had errands to run, so I didn't get home until 7:20. Once I'd unloaded the car, checked the mail, and fed kitty, it was 7:40pm - "Wheel of Fortune" was well under way, my husband had just messaged he was on his way home, and I had at least 2 loads of laundry I HAD to do tonight. (Last dryer load is juuust finishing up now.)
Forty minutes later, I had dinner for two and then some -
- 2 Tandoori chicken breasts (BBQ-grilled)
- 1/3 La Brea Bakery French batard, warmed in the oven then sliced
- Romaine salad with grilled corn (made it yesterday), gruyere cheese, green grapes, Ranch dressing
- Garlic confit (thanks to YH) for the bread instead of butter
- Skinny Dip beer (by New Belgium Brewing Company, the makers of Fat Tire) for me, watered-down apple juice for the spouse
Sorry I don't have a photo - but take my word for it, it was goooood!
2010-07-11
Toy Story 3 made me cry
First off, I give Toy Story 3 an A.
Someone told me before I saw it that it was better than the first two. I scoffed at that then, but now I'm starting to reconsider. Granted there was maybe one part where it started to feel long, the whole scene with the trash incinerator was a bit much, and the Lotso character was also a bit much - overall, I still thought the movie was fantastic.
My husband & I saw it in "Disney Digital 3D". We were trying to figure out whether Disney 3D was different from the 3D we watched, say, How to Train Your Dragon in. It was the same Real-D 3D glasses, and it looked like your typical post-production 3D-ification technique. I guess anything Disney touches, though, has to have their name on it..
The kicker for me was pretty much the last 15 minutes of the movie, which made me cry. Not tear up, or have a little lip quiver - but full-on cry. Tears were streaming down my face and my nose started running.
The inside of my 3D glasses started fogging up as I desperately tried to wipe my eyes, them, and my nose with the fewest movements and least amount of sniffling lest the people around me (mainly my husband) noticed that I was on the verge of all-out bawling.
That last scene in which college-bound Andy gives his toys to the little girl, Bonnie, one-by-one just KILLED me. I mean, I'm already amazed they got the same guy, John Morris, to do Andy's voice through all three movies - I'm not sure what else he's been in (doesn't seem like much from IMDB), but his voice-acting was spot on. Tom Hanks, of course, also did a stellar job with Woody - again.
Other memorable tidbits:
- the Ken character is HIIIIII-larious!
- usual Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head banter
- Spanish Buzz
- crazy scary Big Baby
- REALLY crazy scary (& screaming) monkey with cymbals
- the Bonnie character is to-die-for-adorable
If you liked the first two Toy Story's, I think it's definitely worth seeing this one on the big screen (doesn't have to be in 3D though). Just be sure to stick around for the montage during the end credits. Those last tidbits of humor are the only thing that saved me from walking out of the theatre with red eyes and a runny nose.
Oh, and maybe bring a hankie.
2010-07-08
The worst blackberry pie ever
I cringe to even write this post as I already have a hit or miss reputation in the kitchen. Some of you have experienced me at my finest and my lowest (GW, no comments about the 2007 rigatoni with steak sauce incident please!) But I spent a LOT of time on this damn pie, and took tons of pictures in anticipation of it being my first food-related blog post... so, here goes.
My husband LOVES blackberries. I used to despise them as I thought they tasted like soap. But I've grown to appreciate them over the years and now even prefer them to raspberries. I had slapped together a blackberry galette for Fathers Day, which came out quite nicely (if I do say so myself). Granted, it had about 3 ingredients and the recipe was about 4 steps long. But I was inspired nonetheless. I decided it was time to bake me a bonafide pie!
Disclaimer (i.e. Pathetic Excuse) #1: The original recipe is for rhubarb pie, not blackberry. Therein probably lies the rub.
Disclaimer (i.e. Pathetic Excuse) #2: I've always mistrusted the oven in our apartment. Things always take longer to bake in it than it should, so I believe it runs cooler than the set temperature. I however did not do anything to compensate for this hunch.
Disclaimer (i.e. Pathetic Excuse) #3: The cornstarch in the cupboard was REALLY old. It was from my husband's bachelor days, old.
Disclaimer (i.e. Pathetic Excuse) #4: This is the first fruit pie I've ever attempted.
The recipe (from Williams-Sonoma's The Weeknight Cook):
I started out by using the leftover flaky pastry dough I'd used for the galette I made a week prior for Father's Day (the recipe for the dough yields 2 discs), and tossed the berries in sugar.
The first sign, here, should have been the egregious imbalance of sugar to berry ratio. Again, this was my first pie and all, but it seemed like a LOT of excess sugar for the amount of filling.
Next, I set the dough in the pie dish and filled with the filling & cornstarch mixture.
A stick of butter for the crumbly topping. Yes, a whole stick. :)
This is what it looked like just before I stuck in the oven:
And after baking it for the maximum time plus 5 minutes because the topping still didn't look brown enough for me, I pulled it out. It LOOKED great!
But I soon realized it was a soupy mess on the inside. Not sure if it was because the cornstarch was too old and didn't properly thicken the sauce. Or if there was just too much sugar and the water content of blackberries is so different from rhubarb that it just didn't work. The world will never know.
After eating my obligatory "taste" sliver of a slice, I also put a slice in front of my husband after he ate dinner that night. Like the good husband he is, he took 3 whole sugary soupy bites and forced them down. The rest of that slice, and the whole pie, was for the birds.
My husband LOVES blackberries. I used to despise them as I thought they tasted like soap. But I've grown to appreciate them over the years and now even prefer them to raspberries. I had slapped together a blackberry galette for Fathers Day, which came out quite nicely (if I do say so myself). Granted, it had about 3 ingredients and the recipe was about 4 steps long. But I was inspired nonetheless. I decided it was time to bake me a bonafide pie!
Disclaimer (i.e. Pathetic Excuse) #1: The original recipe is for rhubarb pie, not blackberry. Therein probably lies the rub.
Disclaimer (i.e. Pathetic Excuse) #2: I've always mistrusted the oven in our apartment. Things always take longer to bake in it than it should, so I believe it runs cooler than the set temperature. I however did not do anything to compensate for this hunch.
Disclaimer (i.e. Pathetic Excuse) #3: The cornstarch in the cupboard was REALLY old. It was from my husband's bachelor days, old.
Disclaimer (i.e. Pathetic Excuse) #4: This is the first fruit pie I've ever attempted.
The recipe (from Williams-Sonoma's The Weeknight Cook):
The first sign, here, should have been the egregious imbalance of sugar to berry ratio. Again, this was my first pie and all, but it seemed like a LOT of excess sugar for the amount of filling.
Next, I set the dough in the pie dish and filled with the filling & cornstarch mixture.
This is what it looked like just before I stuck in the oven:
And after baking it for the maximum time plus 5 minutes because the topping still didn't look brown enough for me, I pulled it out. It LOOKED great!
But I soon realized it was a soupy mess on the inside. Not sure if it was because the cornstarch was too old and didn't properly thicken the sauce. Or if there was just too much sugar and the water content of blackberries is so different from rhubarb that it just didn't work. The world will never know.
After eating my obligatory "taste" sliver of a slice, I also put a slice in front of my husband after he ate dinner that night. Like the good husband he is, he took 3 whole sugary soupy bites and forced them down. The rest of that slice, and the whole pie, was for the birds.
2010-06-25
5 Reasons I know it's World Cup
1. All the Lakers banners/flags promptly converted to Mexico & US flags last week.
2. Drunk people streaming out of bars at 9 in the morning.
3. My mom doesn't call as often.
4. Random air horn and zuzuzela bursts at 4am.
5. Every time I turn the TV on at home, it's tuned to the Spanish-language channel.
2010-06-24
If I may mention something Boston-related...
My brother has been in Boston for the past 2 years doing a fellowship in thoracic surgery at Brigham & Women's Hospital (a.k.a. Hah-vuhd). Apparently ABC was also there, from January to June of last year, filming the doctors & residents of B&W's, Mass General, and Children's Hospital of Boston.
Tonight (at 10pm) is the first episode in the 8-part series they turned the footage into. My brother claims to have avoided the cameras for the most part, so he probably isn't one of the highlighted "characters", but maybe you see him running down the hall, or a glimpse of his hand in someone's open chest...
Here's a link to the ABC series.
Here's a photo of his 2-foot tall "diploma".
Tonight (at 10pm) is the first episode in the 8-part series they turned the footage into. My brother claims to have avoided the cameras for the most part, so he probably isn't one of the highlighted "characters", but maybe you see him running down the hall, or a glimpse of his hand in someone's open chest...
Here's a link to the ABC series.
Here's a photo of his 2-foot tall "diploma".
2010-06-15
Chicken commando
So I found a job. La dee da.
Don't go reaching for your confetti yet - it's just part-time and most likely temporary (I'm only guaranteed employment until August). And it's a significant pay cut from my last job. But, hey, beggars can't be choosers. "And in this economy..." (Man, how those last three words are starting to sound like nails on a chalkboard.)
The new job is much closer to home. Plus.
I have a lot more independence at my new job. Plus.
I am getting out of the house (and more importantly, off the couch). Plus.
I am seeing the light of day at least 3 weekdays out of the 5. Plus.
I am meeting new people, albeit 5 of them. Plus.
I get to design, though they mainly be remodeled bathrooms. Plus.
I get to work with Revit - a very marketable skill if/when I seek alternate employment. Plus.
On the days I do work, I'm done at 4pm - and now that it's summer, that still leaves 4+ hours of daylight! Plus.
I'm getting away from Kitty, which means less scratches and bite marks on my arms & legs. Plus.
I'm bringing home some of that proverbial bacon. Plus.
The job has its minuses (I already mentioned the monetary one), but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I will put it this way, though.
If architecture/design firms were like eating establishments...
You've got the international firms (i.e. HOK, SOM) or the really famous names (i.e. Frank Gehry, Santiago Calatrava) - they're like the super posh places to eat - Mastro's, Koi, or STK - you go there to pay an arm & a leg in exchange for name-dropping privileges.
There are the mid-size firms that aren't has well-known but still turn out a good product - think of the nicer chain restaurants: Fleming's or Lawry's. They've been around forever and have a solid reputation, but aren't has glitzy as some.
My old firm was like the really good mom & pop Italian joint that all the locals knew about - it wasn't cheap - but you got your money's worth. You got fresh ingredients, personalized attention, and if you didn't like too much garlic in your pesto - the chef held back. Just for you.
When I was working as a consultant for my ex-colleague, it was like doing odd jobs for those people that make cupcakes and casseroles out of their home and sell them to their neighbors for marginal profit.
My new job isn't even technically an architecture firm. There are no architects (i.e. chefs) on staff, and it all comes down to the bottom line.
My new job is like working at Popeyes.
At Popeyes Louisiana Chicken, you know what you're getting before you step in the door. The menu isn't that diverse. Odds are you want some form of fried chicken, and you don't want to spend much. You also (should) have some expectation of what kind of customer service you'll be getting. No one's going to hold your hand and wait patiently while you go through the wine list, inquire about the soup of the day, or ask which dishes' ingredients are in-season. You walk in, stare at the menu above the ordering counter for a moment if you have to, start ordering with "Gimme..." or "I wanna...", wait about 2-3 minutes for your food, then just figure out if you want to wait and consume your meal in the comfort of your home, or enjoy it sooner but in the slight discomfort of the restaurant.
Customers that walk into Popeyes usually try and squeeze every ounce of their money's worth into the forthcoming meal. They don't just want the Family Meal with Mashed Potatoes, mixed dark & white meat, spicy, with an extra Large Red Beans & Rice - they want the chicken straight out of the fryer (and not the ones that have been sitting under the heat lamp for Lord knows how long) and they want a couple extra biscuits "just because". They want 2 handfuls of hot sauce packets even though there's no way they'll use them all and 27 extra napkins even though there's no way they'll use them all (although napkin hoarders are their own breed and deserve their own dedicated post).
My new office has this atmosphere that is uncannily like a fast food restaurant. You come in, order, we try and turn the product around as quick as humanly possible, then you're on your own. Most of the people working here are probably getting paid less than they're worth (did I mention my paycut?), almost everyone works part-time so the Owner doesn't have to worry about insurance or pesky 401k's, and the atmosphere is very casual - more laissez-faire than industrious. Kind of like when you walk into a Popeyes sometimes and the gal behind the register acts like she's doing you a favor by taking your order? Not that we're that sassy, but you get the picture - employees probably tend to get disgruntled but it would cost management more to keep them happy than to just let them take out their frustration on the customers.
Disclaimer: I LOVE Popeyes Louisiana Chicken. I go there at least once every few months to pig out on their extra crispy, extra spicy chicken breasts that are the size of my face - with some red beans and rice, mashed potatoes with cajun gravy, and the saltiest biscuit in the world. So I write all this with a bit of fondness. I'm not ASHAMED of my new job. I'm just being realistic.
I'll be wearing my paper hat & hair net with pride.
2010-06-14
Laugh at this.
One of my favorite closing monologues from a Seinfeld episode:
What is it that makes a heterosexual man worry?
I think it's because men know that deep down we have weak sales resistance. We're constantly buying shoes that hurt us, pants that don't fit right.
Men think, "Obviously I can be talked into anything. What if I accidentally wander into some sort of homosexual store, thinking it's a shoe store, and the salesman goes,
'Just hold this guy's hand, walk around the store a little bit, see how you feel.
No obligation, no pressure, just try it.
(Beat.)
Would you like to see him in a sandal?'"
(c) 2002-2010 SeinfeldScripts.com2010-06-08
Coda coda
Oh, and I realized this last weekend (with help from TIH) that the Mandarin phrase I was thinking of is: qi xe le, which loosely means "annoyed to death". The one I wrote before, zen jin pin, is more like "I'm losing my mind".
Carry on...
Carry on...
2010-06-02
Exercise in fusilli
There is this one scene in the documentary that I know I will never forget. The Japanese baby, Mari, is alone in a room, seated on the floor, with various toys scattered about her. One of the toys is that tower of wooden stacking rings on a rod - it's dismantled, and she keeps picking up the rod and trying to get 1 or 2 of the rings on it... to no avail. Unfortunately, I couldn't find this clip online (it's not one of the released teaser clips or in the trailer) so I will first admit that I cannot do this scene justice. The absolute frustration and despair this girl feels as she keeps trying (and failing) to get the darn ring on the rod... What an exquisite display of pure and unadulterated emotion.
So, let me TRY and set it up for you: Mari has just learned to sit up, so is not able to stand or walk yet. She's sitting on the floor, alone in a closed-off room of her family's Tokyo loft, and can really only just twist around and play with whatever's in reach at this point. Her motor skills are obviously still developing. She starts out by grabbing the rod with one hand then eyes one of the rings (usually the largest one) and slowly moves the rod across the ground over to the ring. She begins manipulating the ring with her other hand and simultaneously moving the rod to go through the hole in the ring. The thing is, she can't sit without one hand on the ground for long or she loses her balance, so when she's trying with the other hand to put the ring on the rod it's in these jerk-like movements so she can quickly put her hand back down to support herself. Every once in a while she'd get the ring to precariously be half on the rod, but then the slightest move would make it fall off and the ring would just wobble back flat onto the floor. The intense concentration coupled with the frustration that Mari feels clearly escalates through the scene. The first time she fails, she just opens her mouth and wails but quickly starts to try again. The second and third times, her reaction becomes increasingly louder, longer, and more melodramatic (i.e. bursting out in tears, waving the rod in the air, screaming & moaning). Towards the end of the scene, after her fourth or fifth try, she just gives in to her despair and rolls on her back and flops around, wailing, and tossing the rod aside.
Oh. My. God. Classic.
I was laughing so hard, no sound was coming out and no oxygen was reaching my brain. My neck and jaw actually hurt because I was laughing so hard, and they couldn't handle the force of my convulsing body.
Now, recently, I've been trying to restock our pantry with pasta. My favorite brand is De Cecco, in the light blue and yellow box. I think the Barefoot Contessa or Giada once said that was the only store-bought brand she used (you know, when she's not making it from scratch...) Plus, I feel it's the only dry pasta I can get perfectly al dente at home. Anyway, I had gone to two different Vons, looking for De Cecco but come up empty handed. I knew there was a store that I had gone to back in the day that always had a really good selection of De Cecco, but I couldn't remember which chain of grocery store it was. So I made a special trip to Albertsons. They only had 2 types of De Cecco - spaghetti and penne. I grabbed a box of spaghetti - to hold me over - but as my favorite type of pasta is linguine and I've been jonesing for some cheesy fusilli, my search continued. After racking my brain a bit, I recalled it was a fancier supermarket where I'd bought them, so today, I drove 30 minutes out of the way to Whole Foods - thinking, yes, it must have been Whole Foods - and nearly threw a fit standing in their dry pasta aisle staring at all the NON-De Cecco pasta brands they had. Flashes of Mari rolling around on the ground throwing the wooden rod to the floor were in my head... which of course, just made me laugh. After swallowing the large lump of frustration, I just grabbed a bunch of Whole Foods' 365 brand crap noodles and stuffed them in my cart. Instantly, I thought to myself - Gelson's. It musta been Gelson's!!!
Argh.
There's a word in Korean that describes this feeling of extreme frustration - jjah-jjing-na. (I think the Mandarin equivalent would be - and forgive my poor pinyin - zen jin pin.) When you feel "jjah-jjing-na" it's that type of frustration where you just want to shake your whole body, hands, head, and rapidly stomp your feet on the ground, tilt your head back, and scream (or howl or roar). That's "jjah-jjing-na".
Let me just say, this whole pasta hunt...? Got me jjah-jjing-na up the yin yang.
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