Sunday, April 27, 2008

Are Tater Tots Only a Regional Delicacy?

I don't know if people outside of Minnesota (possibly the whole greater Taco John's region) understand the concept of the perfect tater tot, hash brown, or even the potato olé. I'm having tater tots (served with breakfast) from Whole Foods. They are not warm and they are tough. They're also some kind of grayish yellow color. Maybe its just me, but I'm not sure this would even pass back home.

This Year's New Trend

A while back, a friend left a pen in my office, then he left another one in my car, and I'm pretty sure he left still another one in a huddle room. That last one was a red pen, and I learned that it was very effective in drawing on my fingernails. So, until the pen ran out of ink, I would color in my nails, then paint over them with clear polish. Some co-workers found it hilarious, others found it smart. You can sort of see the remnants of the red in the Catcher video.

Then my co-workers got me some red pens and my red nails were back. But they ran out of ink too. Not one to steal office supplies, I went to Office Depot myself and bought me a whole box of red and blue pens. Well, I bought the wrong red pens (just fine point, not the ultra fine point, now I know) but the right blue ones, so now my nails are blue.


Nevermind the bits of polish on my skin - I just painted them and in order to cover the whole nail, some gets on the skin.

I should also note that dark blue was one of the first non-conventional colors I experimented with when I began painting my nails creatively in the 8th grade. I began with dark blue, red, black, and white. I mixed those colors to make as many colors as possible, but without yellow, I couldn't do much. I looked and looked for yellow every time I could, and finally, I found it, and I began several years of painting my nails in ten different colors. That lasted a whole decade, from roughly 1996 until 2006, when I started my current job. I haven't been brave enough to try this look in the business casual world.

As for why do I do this, I love color and can't bear to be "normal".

Friday, April 25, 2008

Chicago, Today



Scary, scarier to remember that the sudden death of two people, publicly, in a city center is much more common in other parts of the world.

A tractor trailer ran into a crowded train station in Chicago at rush hour today. Two people died and at least 20 were injured. The truck didn't even seem to try to stop, but bad breaks or driver health were not an issue - they don't know what the issue is.
-Associated Press Article

Finally, Chicago has a Chinatown? When did this happen? I mean, I knew there were lots of Hmong people in St. Paul and Middle Eastern people in Dearborn, but enough Asian people in Chicago for a whole Chinatown? Not that I consider this a bad thing, but I have some investigating to do. I'll be pretty annoyed if it turns out that its been there for a few decades and I've only heard about it now.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Edible Razor-Like Fat Dispensers

So I ran out of gas today. I didn't get gas last night after getting back from Berkeley, assuming I had enough for a trip to the gas station, but I was wrong. After many tears, a rude police officer who needs to remember who pays her salary, and a polite tow truck driver who seemed like a savior after the experience with the police, I went to the NON CoCo station at Crow Canyon and got a half a tank of gas. Since I had earlier been planning to have some edible fatty starch or onion flavored fat rings at Burger King before I went on my chocolate tour, I decided to get some tasty but bad food to make me feel better. So I bought some regular potato chips.

They tasted marginally good, but they were tough. I cut the roof of my mouth and felt kinda crappy all afternoon. After the chocolate factory, I went to Trader Joe's and got myself some marginally healthier comfort food, like whole grain tortilla chips and 5 layer dip. It didn't make me feel much better physically, but it tasted far better than the edible razor-like fat dispensers. Later, I had a sandwich of mustard, low-fat cheddar cheese, and turkey flavored pressed tofu. I'll stick to the food my great-grandmother would recognize for a while - maybe a better litmus is "not invented in a lab over the past century*."

*except the tofu - I know. But I think the process to make tofurky is more mechanical than chemical, but what the hell do I know. I guess it is hard to define the "great-grandmother" rule in a single sentence.

April Now

April 22 doesn't mean much to me, neither does April 18. But April 19, April 20, and April 21 mean a lot.

In either 1990 or 1991, the excitement culminating on April 19 was the town of Waco, TX and the compound of the radical religious sect, the Branch Davidians. On that final siege, federal agents raided the compound, and there is infrared footage of an ATF tank running over an American citizen. It is not clear if the tragedy of killing those people to enter the compound was worse than the abuses happening inside. April 19, 1991 was the date of my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. This happened about four months after their second daughter's death from breast cancer. In 1995, April 19 became the date of the sudden death of 256 people in Oklahoma City, OK. A bomb exploded outside an office building and destroyed a significant part of a busy office building.

April 20 brings back memories of college and the annual NORML concert at that one bar in St. Cloud, MN. However, for the most part, it is a normal day (no pun intended).

April 21 is actually not much of a day either. At least, it wasn't until last year when I got a phone call from somewhere in Port Edwards, WI, the location of my grandmother's nursing home. I IMed my cousin who, apparently, had just gotten off the phone with another cousin. Grandma was dead. It has been almost a year now (not yet, it isn't the 21st yet), and I still get worked up thinking about it. I have a hard time saying anything more blunt than "my grandmother passed away." She was such a presence - a force - in the my life and in the lives of the entire [my last name] family. 12 kids, minus the first one that doesn't like us and the second one that died in 1990, and 17 grandkids, minus the three from the oldest kid, growing up with The Farm and Grandma. This is an important day in my life.

Friday, April 18, 2008

The Case for MST3k

A couple weeks back, this exchange made me laugh so much that tears come to my eyes. The whole conversation evolved over the course of about 2 hours and pretty much every comment relates back to a specific episode. Some require being spoken in a specific accent.

MST3k Fan: Look what I saw in DC! [image of fan standing next to large bronze anteater and looking disgusted]
Me: I can't believe you wanted to get close to it, its so gross!
MST3k Fan: The things I do for you guys, right?
Fan #3: Man, huge slam for anteaters out of nowhere!
Fan #4: "At least I'm not a stinkin' anteater!"
Fan #5: The look of repulsion on your face is excellent! (And fitting.)
Fan #6: You look drunk to me.
MST3k Fan: I'm on medication, man!
Fan #7: Oh man, they could have used the bronze for something less stupid and repulsive. They could have made a statue out of something WORTH doppling into, like a horse. Stallion! Always good the first time out.
Fan #8: This community just hates anteaters! D:
MST3k Fan: Well, I did see a panda while I was there, but I'm not sure if it was really a doppled old guy or not.
Fan #7: Check the name plate, see if it said "Geddy Arbed".
Fan #9: Soon after this picture was taken, you were run down by a drunk baboon doing cartwheels.


A later post appeared, saying "I want more butter on my ham!" That was a riff from the same movie about a character dubbed "The Fat Man". I was reminded of another movie wherein a ventriloquist dummy wanted some ham. Comments on the post included things like "All I can eat? The joke's on them!," *burp*, *wheeze* and I laughed at every one.

And yesterday, we had fun with a picture of a broken Schick razor - The case for MST3k is that it brings joy to even the most mundane things in life.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

You Moistened My Dry Look!

Maybe its because fashion is cyclical, and I'm about ready to bring back the late '70s. Maybe its because I watched Puma Man (Pyuma Man?) last week. Maybe I'm just a sucker for guys with a good head of hair, but I say its high time we brought The Dry Look back.

Thoughts?

Friday, April 11, 2008

Ever Notice?

So often, it happens in my life that I set out to do something, then something else comes up, and I forget my original intention. This blog post is a great example.

Other times, I realize that I have a question about my day and want to blog about them, but in the process of blogging, I remember the answer. The answer somehow ruins the post so I discard it entirely. Other times, I save the post as a draft for a while. I have at least 10 drafts saved up here, just waiting for refinement before publishing.

But now, I remembered my thought. Why is the 'o' (oh) key so close to the '0' (zero) key? Couldn't they have put the zero over by the one? I'm not yet a touch typist, and there are many times I need to type something like "Fill out the GO-#### paper and get it back to me". But even when I typed that example, I wrote "G)-####". Sure, I could learn how to type better, but it doesn't cover up the design flaw.

Monday, April 7, 2008

Instant Excitement

Do you have a PDA that receives email? Do you get many emails per day? Set your PDA to vibrate or make a noise when you receive an email. Set the PDA on a table near you and wait for the excitement and/or heart attack to ensue. Maybe I'm just stressed out, idk.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Hilarious

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Remember When the Highway Melted?



Its almost been a year.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

We are What We Eat

Literally, that is what we are. My mom is a registered dietitian, but like most kids, I was raised part by my mom, part by my peers, and part by marketing departments. I was also a depressed little girl that didn't want to run around. Add in that little obsession with food and I became a fat depressed little girl, and it spiraled from there.

When I was 18, I gained 20 pounds in college and admitted to my mom that I literally did not know when to stop eating. She took me to another dietitian and discussed my diet. I lost those 20 pounds over the next few months, and over the next few years, I lost an additional 30. But I still had a terrible relationship with food.

Over the past month, I've been seeing a new nutritionist that has recommended eating more a balanced diet, and has made me realize that I eat way too many starches. She also mentioned that starches tend to "spike" in our bodies, causing us to crave more starch and even mess with our moods. Since focusing on eating more proteins, assuming I'll get my carbs by default, and focusing on fruits and vegetables, not only have I lost about 5 pounds (in a few weeks), but I feel better. I feel calmer, and I can feel how sugar affects my mood.

I'm also trying to eat more consciously, and stopping when I'm full. I try to stay on the outside of the supermarket and yes, I buy organic and local when I can. All things advocated in this article, Pollan: Nutrition 'Science' Has Hijacked Our Meals -- and Our Health. We're eating more than ever, yet we're terribly sick. We've been pumped full of chemicals too. I've been taking chemicals for over ten years now too, but no one bothered to look at all the mac and cheese I was eating or tell me how that might affect me. I know food alone can't make me not depressed, but a more balanced diet makes better sense than a higher dosage of a chemical that includes sweating and suicidal tendencies as side-effects.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Seventeen Years

Seventeen years ago, April, 1991, I was in the 4th grade. One Friday night, instead of riding the bus home from school, I walked with a friend to her house. We played, it was a good time, then my mom came and got me and took me home. In the garage, as I heard the opening of Full House, I got out of the passenger front seat of my mom's car, slammed the door and screamed.

I couldn't talk, I couldn't say "hey, I slammed my right index finger in the car door, please someone help me," all I could do was scream.

Someone came and opened the door, I hadn't broken my finger, but it was bruised. We bandaged the finger, and for a while, I wore a single cloth glove in school to ensure the bandage stayed on, yes, like Michael Jackson. My fingernail was slowly coming off as a new one grew underneath. The old one was still connected by some scar tissue at the end. One of my female classmates wanted the dead fingernail after it came off, I don't remember if I said she could have it or not. When it did come off, I think it came off in the bath, because I never found it. Afterwards, the scar tissue at the tip of my fingernail caused it to split just at the point where the fingernail came detached from the finger.

Before this incident, I had started to notice that I couldn't remember right from left. I had started to simulate writing to determine which side was which. Even before my finger stopped hurting, I realized what a great benefit I had gained. My normal fingernail was the left side, the weird one my right. Even now, at 26, you might notice me check my index fingernail when someone mentions going right or left (except when driving, I can tell right and left when driving, for some reason [and thank goodness]).

Of course, that was until yesterday, when I noticed that the split was gone. It was gone! GONE!
GONE!!

Sorry about my dry skin. As you will notice, aside from the odd colorings on the white part at the base of my nail, this is a completely NORMAL fingernail. I'm trying to remain calm.


After 17 years, that one little abnormality caused by a trauma so bad that I could scarcely remember the feeling a year later, my right index fingernail was back to normal. I've only known my family longer than I've known that weird fingernail. Its been a comfort, always letting me know, without fail, which side was right and which was left. But now, its gone. I don't even have a picture of what it used to look like.