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.

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".

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.

Laugh at this.

One of my favorite closing monologues from a Seinfeld episode:

What causes homophobia? 

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.com

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...

Coda

Hurrah!

Hurrah!!

Hurrah!!!

Exercise in fusilli

So I watched Babies last week (alas, I am sworn to secrecy as to the circumstances surrounding where and with whom I watched it).  It was pretty much what I expected - an hour and a half of going between 4 babies' lives in 4 countries, following the emotional rollercoaster that is that first year of life.  I was very satisfied with the movie. (Note: I had been very heavily anticipating it. Um, hello! It's a movie of just a bunch of babies doing baby things!)

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.

Robin Hood V

I think it's fair to call this Robin Hood V as it's the fifth major cinematic rendition of the Robin Hood story (after the Errol Flynn, Disney, Kevin Costner, and Cary Elwes versions).  My husband and I watched it a couple weekends ago with only a handful of other people in the theatre.

I was expecting nothing.  And I think my husband was expecting much more.

The film is definitely not bad - it's a Ridley Scott movie, which means a powerful score, sweeping cinematography, and a plot development that will keep you engaged.  It is 2 hours and 20 minutes long, however. (I will add that Sex & the City 2 was 6 minutes longer and it felt like it was 60.)  Russell Crowe is in fine form as always - nothing Oscar-worthy but the man can act and carry on dialogue, especially opposite Cate Blanchett.  There are definitely moments that felt reminiscent of Gladiator (a man with nothing to lose, trying to find himself, ends up leading a downtrodden group against tyranny) and Braveheart (a man with nothing to lose, trying to find himself, ends up leading a downtrodden group against tyranny).

I give it a solid B.

And, in case you're curious, I give Sex & the City 2 a C+; Gladiator and Braveheart both get very solid A's.