Seriously- I know it's been a while since I bothered to post anything and I kind of hate to come right out of the gate with a complaint... but really? Seriously? It's only 9:42pm and it feels like 1 in the morning.
More importantly I wanted to inform you all (all two of you) that Properly Salted is officially going on hiatus. It's definitely been fun to have an outlet for all my ranting and raving but a few complications have set dear Salty back in the last few months. Essentially, Mr.Mr. and I have no money so I can't exactly write about all the great food we could be eating, the awesome knickknacks I could be buying, or all the fun places we could be visiting. And I'm so busy with school that I hardly have the time to read other blogs, watch tv, or read anything but articles on german case bindings which leaves me little to comment on in my typical Salty fashion.
So until I can determine what I want to broadcast my thoughts on and why, we shall part as friends. Let's make a point to keep in touch though, eh?
xo, Salty
Showing posts with label Pondering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pondering. Show all posts
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
New slang
All over town (by town, I mean webernets) there are these hoards of people who lurk in the dark shadows of popular blogs and online publications, voraciously devouring every word written, waiting with bated breath to pounce on something... any small morsel they can concoct an elaborate vitriolic diatribe around in the comment section. This brand of feedback is almost always entirely indicative of their lack of comprehension of the writing's true content/purpose and generally serve to disparage the author in some ridiculous, single-minded way without addressing any larger issue.
Frequently rife with misspellings, poor sentence structure, and/or faulty grammar- these diarrhea-of-the-mouth style (for lack of a better expression) missives serve no purpose other than to chip away at the self-esteem of the writer (or worse, the subject of the post/story), while demonstrating the higher intelligence/morality/social standing of the commenter.
Ladies and gentlemen of the webernets, without further ado... allow me to introduce you to:
Netpicker (n) - Original Etymology, Nit Picker (n) 1951 - pedantic critic. Adopted for the web (or internet) in 2009. - Specifically characterizes an individual who seeks to criticize the work of another in the public forum of the comment section of any online published content with thinly-veiled attempts to elevate his/her own standing on unrelated grounds.
Synonyms: Hater (variant, "player" hater), troll, sniper, naysayer, @sshole, misanthrope.
I should add here that I've been very fortunate to avoid the steel gaze of most netpickers by flying largely under their radar with this fun little blog of mine. I've come up with this expression to put a name to the endless supply of jack@sses I come across while enjoying the work of other bloggers.
Most notably, I'm alarmed on a regular basis at just how many readers flock to Heather Armstrong's thoroughly amusing and insightful dooce.com, seemingly for the sole purpose of netpicking. She regularly posts excerpts of her most amusing hate e-mails and I applaud her for taking it all in stride. Netpickers should largely be ignored... but it's about time we put a name to their nasty little spiteful faces.
Frequently rife with misspellings, poor sentence structure, and/or faulty grammar- these diarrhea-of-the-mouth style (for lack of a better expression) missives serve no purpose other than to chip away at the self-esteem of the writer (or worse, the subject of the post/story), while demonstrating the higher intelligence/morality/social standing of the commenter.
Ladies and gentlemen of the webernets, without further ado... allow me to introduce you to:
Netpicker (n) - Original Etymology, Nit Picker (n) 1951 - pedantic critic. Adopted for the web (or internet) in 2009. - Specifically characterizes an individual who seeks to criticize the work of another in the public forum of the comment section of any online published content with thinly-veiled attempts to elevate his/her own standing on unrelated grounds.
Synonyms: Hater (variant, "player" hater), troll, sniper, naysayer, @sshole, misanthrope.
I should add here that I've been very fortunate to avoid the steel gaze of most netpickers by flying largely under their radar with this fun little blog of mine. I've come up with this expression to put a name to the endless supply of jack@sses I come across while enjoying the work of other bloggers.
Most notably, I'm alarmed on a regular basis at just how many readers flock to Heather Armstrong's thoroughly amusing and insightful dooce.com, seemingly for the sole purpose of netpicking. She regularly posts excerpts of her most amusing hate e-mails and I applaud her for taking it all in stride. Netpickers should largely be ignored... but it's about time we put a name to their nasty little spiteful faces.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Too little time
How irrational is it that having been unemployed for 8 months, I still feel like there isn't enough time to accomplish all the projects I'd like to undertake? What, exactly- keeps me from just sitting down and doing them? And lastly, how is it that days seem to drift by slow as molasses or, alternately, at breakneck speed without my even noticing. We have a joke around the house that it doesn't really matter what day it is when you're unemployed. Basically, your entire week is the weekend. And I think that's really the problem. Without the confines of the work week, I don't value my time the way I should. It reminds me of an article I just read in the Atlantic Monthly- my new favorite magazine.
{In summary- the article postulates that just as most people are likely to put off future (negative) experiences/tasks such as going to the gym (sound familiar?), eating better (getting warmer...), and saving money (BINGO!)- we're also prone to delaying gratification when there is no specific time frame allotted. It's very counterintuitive which I love. ...Yadda, yadda, yadda the main point is that both marketers and consumers alike to should be aware of this tendency and try to navigate the muddy waters of behavioral economics with caution.}
So I'm going to spend a little time thinking about how best to bring back the routine of my week. My motivational circadian rhythm is all out of whack and needs a serious makeover. If you have any tips or tricks of your own, I'd love to hear them. There's nothing worse than wasting time.
{In summary- the article postulates that just as most people are likely to put off future (negative) experiences/tasks such as going to the gym (sound familiar?), eating better (getting warmer...), and saving money (BINGO!)- we're also prone to delaying gratification when there is no specific time frame allotted. It's very counterintuitive which I love. ...Yadda, yadda, yadda the main point is that both marketers and consumers alike to should be aware of this tendency and try to navigate the muddy waters of behavioral economics with caution.}
So I'm going to spend a little time thinking about how best to bring back the routine of my week. My motivational circadian rhythm is all out of whack and needs a serious makeover. If you have any tips or tricks of your own, I'd love to hear them. There's nothing worse than wasting time.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Something to think about
Conceived by Bud Caddell- a man who clearly has a direct line to my brain lately. Now if only I could find my "hooray!" spot. Monday, June 1, 2009
Things to do
-Learn calligraphy (properly this time)
-Begin collecting old stamps
-Buy a super eight camera
-Listen to more music music
-Use my gocco more
-Begin collecting old stamps
-Buy a super eight camera
-Listen to more music music
-Use my gocco more
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
The big spoon theory
It's pretty simple: the bigger the spoon (fork, spork...utensil) you eat with, the more you will eat. I have no idea if it's true but it dawned on me this morning that it might be. Here's how the lightning bolt hit me: I'm a teaspoon girl, tried and true. I don't use the bigger of the two spoons (the tablespoon, I'm assuming) ever unless I'm serving something. However, Mr.Mr. is the exact opposite. He's a big spoon guy and if provided a little spoon, he'll actually get up from the table and get himself a new [bigger] one. If I think really hard, I'm not sure I can come up with a time when my childhood dinner table was ever set with larger spoons. Whereas Mr.Mr. has told me many times about his afterschool ritual of pouring cereal into a mixing bowl and going to town. And understandably- you would need a big spoon for that job. ...I'm taking too long to get to the point.
So- there were no small spoons for me this morning. Every last one of them was in the dishwasher and I was hungry for my morning bowl of FMV Flakes (also known as "poverty flakes" around chez Salty since they're only $0.99 a box). So I figured, hey, no big deal- I'll just use a big spoon. Wrong. The first bite I tried to take nearly required an additional hand stretching my mouth open in order to accommodate the massive scoop of cereal. And my sisters will tell you, it's not for lack of a big mouth. You see, I was loading the spoon up the way I would with a small spoon. Only in a big spoon, that meant about twice the amount of food going into the old piehole. And I got to thinking. If the theory about smaller plates equalling smaller meals is true, the same should hold water for the size of your utensil. A small fork can only balance so much pasta/salad/chicken/whatever and you'd never dip your giant spoon into a bowl of soup and only fill it a third of the way. And because we all eat so fast, we're done with our food (care of our aforementioned giant utensils) before we can blink and of course we're still hungry. Am I right? Come to think of it, I imagine if you paid attention, you'd notice restaurant utensils are usually on the large side as well.
So as part of my general efforts to eat well and within reason, not only try to remember to breath in between each bite, drink more water, and finish chewing and put down my utensil before going back to the plate for more... I will I continue to use my small spoons. Now if only I could get someone to test this theory. I'm certain there's a press release from the FDA just waiting to be published on this one.
So- there were no small spoons for me this morning. Every last one of them was in the dishwasher and I was hungry for my morning bowl of FMV Flakes (also known as "poverty flakes" around chez Salty since they're only $0.99 a box). So I figured, hey, no big deal- I'll just use a big spoon. Wrong. The first bite I tried to take nearly required an additional hand stretching my mouth open in order to accommodate the massive scoop of cereal. And my sisters will tell you, it's not for lack of a big mouth. You see, I was loading the spoon up the way I would with a small spoon. Only in a big spoon, that meant about twice the amount of food going into the old piehole. And I got to thinking. If the theory about smaller plates equalling smaller meals is true, the same should hold water for the size of your utensil. A small fork can only balance so much pasta/salad/chicken/whatever and you'd never dip your giant spoon into a bowl of soup and only fill it a third of the way. And because we all eat so fast, we're done with our food (care of our aforementioned giant utensils) before we can blink and of course we're still hungry. Am I right? Come to think of it, I imagine if you paid attention, you'd notice restaurant utensils are usually on the large side as well.
So as part of my general efforts to eat well and within reason, not only try to remember to breath in between each bite, drink more water, and finish chewing and put down my utensil before going back to the plate for more... I will I continue to use my small spoons. Now if only I could get someone to test this theory. I'm certain there's a press release from the FDA just waiting to be published on this one.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Words of wisdom
"One of the worst traps
is finding yourself
despising someone
really good.
There they are
wearing a miniskirt
talking dirty
but washing
the filthy
feeding the hungry
defending the poor
befriending the dead.
& all you can
say in your
defense
is
their bleached hair
& studded
nostril
hardly goes
with so much
leg."
-Alice Walker (from Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth)
is finding yourself
despising someone
really good.
There they are
wearing a miniskirt
talking dirty
but washing
the filthy
feeding the hungry
defending the poor
befriending the dead.
& all you can
say in your
defense
is
their bleached hair
& studded
nostril
hardly goes
with so much
leg."
-Alice Walker (from Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth)
Monday, May 11, 2009
Is it just me...
Or are these two eerily similar?
(Comedian Joan Rivers of ABC's Celebrity Apprentice and the puppet face mask from the SAW movie franchise.)
This particular resemblance struck me as I watched the train wreck that is Donald Trump as he one by one, solicited opinions and feedback from booted contestants and then summarily insulted, cut off, or dismissed them entirely. How exactly, does anyone take that man seriously? ... And let's not even get into his hair.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Springtime starts
Well folks, it's been a long, dreary winter and I'm not nearly foolish enough to think we're in the clear... but the sun is shining and the birds are chirping and the flip flops have come out of hiding. For a little over a month now I've been on a reduced-internet consumption diet, focusing on starting my day without firing up the computer and spending time in (ooooh ahhhhh) reflection and practice instead. I retooled my morning routine to include time journaling, reading, walking, and flossing. Yep- you heard me- flossing. It could be the excitement of new habits, or that they were on sale, but I even bought two rolls of floss. Two! Like... I might do this forever from now on! Can you imagine that? Even I knew this meant I was serious.
So regardless of the weather I spend at least 20 minutes on foot in and around my neighborhood, greeting neighbors along the way and enjoying sightings of odd birds, bushy-eared squirrels, and the ocassional child in a tree. The latter are the best. I've also been paying more attention to the houses around us and thinking a lot about the way I had hoped to have my own sometime soon. It might sound strange but I've been slowly realizing just how much is must cost to have and maintain a house. From the cost of landscaping to repainting, installing windows or a fence for the yard- it must add up at a dizzying rate. And here I had been thinking Mr.Mr. and I should consider buying something between a live-in-ready and fixer-upper type house. Ha! Perhaps not. It has given me a different type of respect for homeowners who are able to make ends met between their family and the roofs over their heads.
And oh the reading! The local library is a short walk from our place and I've once again begun my love affair with all books borrow-able. The possibilities are endless. My library card is like a secret weapon. Thyroid problems? Check the library. Want to know how to build a birdhouse? Check the library. Have an odd, unidentifiable ant army taking up residence in your houseplant? Check. The. Library. True, true- it's not as fast or easy as the internet. But it's worth it. Trust me. And I've regained the understanding that reading someone's work and experiencing a resonance in their writing, their word choice, or their sense of humor- can be enjoyed simply and on its own. The blogs I've followed over the last three or so years have a lot to offer by means of inspiration, insight, and information... but books don't give me that illusion of being connected to the writers. I can be seduced by prose and poetry, cleverness and craft, for that joy alone.
So perhaps I'm back? In bits and pieces.
So regardless of the weather I spend at least 20 minutes on foot in and around my neighborhood, greeting neighbors along the way and enjoying sightings of odd birds, bushy-eared squirrels, and the ocassional child in a tree. The latter are the best. I've also been paying more attention to the houses around us and thinking a lot about the way I had hoped to have my own sometime soon. It might sound strange but I've been slowly realizing just how much is must cost to have and maintain a house. From the cost of landscaping to repainting, installing windows or a fence for the yard- it must add up at a dizzying rate. And here I had been thinking Mr.Mr. and I should consider buying something between a live-in-ready and fixer-upper type house. Ha! Perhaps not. It has given me a different type of respect for homeowners who are able to make ends met between their family and the roofs over their heads.
And oh the reading! The local library is a short walk from our place and I've once again begun my love affair with all books borrow-able. The possibilities are endless. My library card is like a secret weapon. Thyroid problems? Check the library. Want to know how to build a birdhouse? Check the library. Have an odd, unidentifiable ant army taking up residence in your houseplant? Check. The. Library. True, true- it's not as fast or easy as the internet. But it's worth it. Trust me. And I've regained the understanding that reading someone's work and experiencing a resonance in their writing, their word choice, or their sense of humor- can be enjoyed simply and on its own. The blogs I've followed over the last three or so years have a lot to offer by means of inspiration, insight, and information... but books don't give me that illusion of being connected to the writers. I can be seduced by prose and poetry, cleverness and craft, for that joy alone.
So perhaps I'm back? In bits and pieces.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
A storm's a brewin'
A BRAINstorm, that is. I've been trying to think of a clever business name to successfully umbrella all the craft things I've been making or thinking of making lately. I'm also considering which small-sales website to use for said business (i.e. Etsy [again], or Big Cartel, or some other site) and how best to garner some attention and sales. And as I tried desperately to fall asleep last night (three- count them, three hours after downing a vietnamese coffee milkshake with chocolate syrup*) I wondered- do most people brainstorm with their eyes open or closed?
I lay there, eyes closed, thinking that was half way to sleep, right? And realized that I may actually be more creative with my eyes open... able to look around me for inspiration with colors, real items, words, etc. So that got me thinking: What are the elements of a perfect BRAINstorm for you? How do you come by your best ideas?
*I'm still recovering from the tonsillectomy, okay- I'm allowed to eat anything I want! ...As long as it's pureed.
I lay there, eyes closed, thinking that was half way to sleep, right? And realized that I may actually be more creative with my eyes open... able to look around me for inspiration with colors, real items, words, etc. So that got me thinking: What are the elements of a perfect BRAINstorm for you? How do you come by your best ideas?
*I'm still recovering from the tonsillectomy, okay- I'm allowed to eat anything I want! ...As long as it's pureed.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Do a what?
Okay... I'm home a lot. I mean- a LOT these days. And with my tonsils out, riding the crazy train to oxycodoneville most afternoons- there's not much that's safe to do without supervision except watch tv. A lot of tv. And I'm finally starting to wonder what the F is up with Daisy sour cream. Their whole campaign suggests you, "Do a dollop [of Daisy]" - implying sour cream can go with virtually everything and a generous "dollop" is the right size helping.
I'm sorry- do the folks at Daisy know what sour cream is? I think they may be in cahoots with those crazy high fructose corn syrup people (or maybe they've just been drinking it straight) because one of their main suggestions is dipping vegetables and potato chips into a plain bowl of sour cream. Have we heard of cholesterol?
Just checking.
Oh, and Semi-Homemade Cooking with Sandra Lee. Is this how America cooks? I mean- I guess I should be glad that people are getting into the kitchen, period- but what is up with her ingredient distribution? 70% store bought and 30% fresh? I think this just makes me sad. Most of the pleasure I derive from cooking comes from the magic of transforming basic, raw, ingredients into totally different, interesting, and complete meals. It's not even that starting with premade food feels a little like cheating because ultimately- it's not about how quickly you make it to the finish line- it's how you get there and if you enjoy yourself along the way. Don't people want to know what's in their food?
Argh. Enough ranting for the moment. It's hardly fair to welcome readers back with a big old complaint-fest. More random musings to follow. Oh, and I've abandoned the final chapter of my San Francisco trip for an unspecified amount of time. Travel notes don't seem to generate much conversation so I'm going to quit giving myself a hard time for not wrapping that up with a bow.
I'm sorry- do the folks at Daisy know what sour cream is? I think they may be in cahoots with those crazy high fructose corn syrup people (or maybe they've just been drinking it straight) because one of their main suggestions is dipping vegetables and potato chips into a plain bowl of sour cream. Have we heard of cholesterol?
Just checking.
Oh, and Semi-Homemade Cooking with Sandra Lee. Is this how America cooks? I mean- I guess I should be glad that people are getting into the kitchen, period- but what is up with her ingredient distribution? 70% store bought and 30% fresh? I think this just makes me sad. Most of the pleasure I derive from cooking comes from the magic of transforming basic, raw, ingredients into totally different, interesting, and complete meals. It's not even that starting with premade food feels a little like cheating because ultimately- it's not about how quickly you make it to the finish line- it's how you get there and if you enjoy yourself along the way. Don't people want to know what's in their food?
Argh. Enough ranting for the moment. It's hardly fair to welcome readers back with a big old complaint-fest. More random musings to follow. Oh, and I've abandoned the final chapter of my San Francisco trip for an unspecified amount of time. Travel notes don't seem to generate much conversation so I'm going to quit giving myself a hard time for not wrapping that up with a bow.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Gifts in tow
...We make our way to Seattle to celebrate the holidays with Mr.Mr.'s family. With drifts up to our knees, a couple of close friends from up North have offered to ferry us home with them in their trusty Jeep and we're all the more thankful for the free ride. Something about strapping on snow chains in 30 degree weather with a bruised and battered throat seems less than appealing at the moment.
Call me crazy.
Of course despite my tonsilar woes and the massive deep freeze we've been enduring in Portland- it is that time of year and I have grown quite a bit homesick over the last week. And so I send good thoughts and warm hugs to everyone who's missing anyone beside them right now. There really is nothing like family to make it all better. Well- family and chocolate pudding. I stand corrected.
Happy Holidays to you all!
Call me crazy.
Of course despite my tonsilar woes and the massive deep freeze we've been enduring in Portland- it is that time of year and I have grown quite a bit homesick over the last week. And so I send good thoughts and warm hugs to everyone who's missing anyone beside them right now. There really is nothing like family to make it all better. Well- family and chocolate pudding. I stand corrected.
Happy Holidays to you all!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Jet setting with Salty (Part III)
Day three of San Francisco brought in the characteristic fog of the city. Getting a late start to the day after a lazy morning and delicious breakfast of cranberry clafoutis, we headed south on Route 1 to Pescadero.
Unable to discern our exact distance from our destination, we popped into the San Gregorio Post Office. We didn't stay long but this cute little all-in-one bar and general store was absolutely charming. As icing on the cake, there was a four piece band playing to a small audience of bundled up locals enjoying beer, coffee, and snacks. With a few twirling kids peppering the audience, I think this is exactly the kind of place I'd want to be on a foggy fall day.
Destination: Harley Farms. American Cheese Society award winners for the last five years, Harley Farms offers a variety of tasty and attractive goat cheeses in their small shop adjacent to the farm. Since we took a while to get there, we missed our opportunity to get a tour of the farm and cheese-making process. But that didn't stop us... okay, me from sampling as much sweet, sweet, goat cheese as humanly possible in the last twenty minutes before the shop closed. I enjoyed their edible flower-adorned, tomato basil, cranberry walnut, and apricot pistachio "tortes." I also tasted their herbes de provence, peppercorn, and dill versions.
Sadly, I missed my opportunity to try their feta and chevre in oil but I did get a few toothpicks of their subtle, dry ricotta salata. We considered buying some to add to the subsequent night's dinner menu of fresh pasta and roasted chicken, but ultimately decided a small tub of their pumpkin spread and a log of their chive chevre would suit us well for pre-dinner noshing. And did it ever! The pumpkin spread was delicious with plain water crackers and would have made an excellent ravioli filling on its own.
Dinner brought us to Ebisu, a favorite sushi joint of Mr.Mr.'s and his brother, conveniently located only a few blocks from the latter's apartment. Sitting away from the bustle of the sushi bar, we enjoyed our meal in the tatami room, sitting cross-legged, shoe-less on small, soft pads. Given that Mr.Mr. and I eat a majority of our meals at the living room coffee table, the casual style of the tatami room feels a bit like home to us. While he and his brother indulged in such oddities as fresh scallop, spider rolls, and things with eels in them- I stuck to a tempura vegetable and california roll. If you look closely, you can read Mr.Mr.'s brother's t-shirt from 826 Valencia. It reads, "Canons don't sink ships. Pirates with canons sink ships." So ridiculously clever.
We pulled into the parking lot at San Gregorio beach to check our map when we realized we were on empty- and quite possibly miles from the nearest gas station. This cozy couple hid from the drizzle under their umbrella as they walked the path watching the waves roll.
Unable to discern our exact distance from our destination, we popped into the San Gregorio Post Office. We didn't stay long but this cute little all-in-one bar and general store was absolutely charming. As icing on the cake, there was a four piece band playing to a small audience of bundled up locals enjoying beer, coffee, and snacks. With a few twirling kids peppering the audience, I think this is exactly the kind of place I'd want to be on a foggy fall day.Destination: Harley Farms. American Cheese Society award winners for the last five years, Harley Farms offers a variety of tasty and attractive goat cheeses in their small shop adjacent to the farm. Since we took a while to get there, we missed our opportunity to get a tour of the farm and cheese-making process. But that didn't stop us... okay, me from sampling as much sweet, sweet, goat cheese as humanly possible in the last twenty minutes before the shop closed. I enjoyed their edible flower-adorned, tomato basil, cranberry walnut, and apricot pistachio "tortes." I also tasted their herbes de provence, peppercorn, and dill versions.
Sadly, I missed my opportunity to try their feta and chevre in oil but I did get a few toothpicks of their subtle, dry ricotta salata. We considered buying some to add to the subsequent night's dinner menu of fresh pasta and roasted chicken, but ultimately decided a small tub of their pumpkin spread and a log of their chive chevre would suit us well for pre-dinner noshing. And did it ever! The pumpkin spread was delicious with plain water crackers and would have made an excellent ravioli filling on its own.
Dinner brought us to Ebisu, a favorite sushi joint of Mr.Mr.'s and his brother, conveniently located only a few blocks from the latter's apartment. Sitting away from the bustle of the sushi bar, we enjoyed our meal in the tatami room, sitting cross-legged, shoe-less on small, soft pads. Given that Mr.Mr. and I eat a majority of our meals at the living room coffee table, the casual style of the tatami room feels a bit like home to us. While he and his brother indulged in such oddities as fresh scallop, spider rolls, and things with eels in them- I stuck to a tempura vegetable and california roll. If you look closely, you can read Mr.Mr.'s brother's t-shirt from 826 Valencia. It reads, "Canons don't sink ships. Pirates with canons sink ships." So ridiculously clever.
After dinner we rented a couple of movies from the local video store and sat down together in the glow of an 11" laptop screen (Mr.Mr.'s brother has no tv) to enjoy Mrs. Pettigrew Lives for a Day. Described on the case as a "delightful, champagne of a comedy" or some such nonsense- I worried it might be too fluffy for my male cohorts... and my concerns were confirmed when, forty minutes in, I was voted off the island and we began In the Valley of Elah instead.
The former was, (just as described), a pure sno-cone type treat of a movie with lush interiors, fabulous wardrobes and a perfect portrayal of fictitious movie star of the minute, Delysia Lafosse by Amy Adams. In stark contrast, the latter was a dark, raw, and disturbing perspective on the war in Iraq and the reach of its destructive, malignant wake. What struck me most about In the Valley of Elah was its portrayal of the veterans of war and how the violence experienced, first hand or otherwise, becomes an unshakable memory. Worse, how sometimes that memory becomes ghost-like... completely separate or removed from the actual act and the implication(s) of participation in those acts.
... Part IV to follow shortly.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Is it just me
Or is anyone else creeped out by those computer ads that show some kid watching tv- then the camera pans left to circle back around- and the kid's head is split in half and open in the back- revealing some sort of band playing INSIDE the kid's head or... or fireworks going off?
It's really friggin' weird and it definitely doesn't make me want to buy anything. It makes me think of robots. Which in turn, makes me just uncomfortable enough to change the channel.
(Imagine me saying that all in one rushed, panting breath.)
It's really friggin' weird and it definitely doesn't make me want to buy anything. It makes me think of robots. Which in turn, makes me just uncomfortable enough to change the channel.
(Imagine me saying that all in one rushed, panting breath.)
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Good morning, America, How are you?
I don't know about you, but as far as I'm concerned, these, my friends- are good times. I won't say I sprang out of bed this morning renewed with purpose and patriotic vigor. But sometime between brushing my teeth and slipping on my jacket to brave the damp beyond and meet a friend for coffee... when I was awake enough to remember that we elected a new president last night, I smiled. And I felt better than I had the day before.
Now I know that's not saying much given my usual state of unemployed paralysis, but it's a start. I feel really proud, actually. I feel like the scale of Obama's accomplishment is massive. I'm excited by so much of his vision, but most of all that he empowered millions of people to feel a sense of ownership of our country. In some ways I hate to reduce it to business principles, but I have to admit that this is the best example of creating "buy-in" that I've ever seen. He launched an aggressive, multi-generational marketing campaign that left no person behind. He created a web and multi-media presence that spoke to the generation that speaks in txt msgs and uses the newspaper to line the litter box. For those who were coming of voting age, the seamless branding of Obama's campaign was familiar and emblematic like Nike or Ecko... a part of their burgeoning identity. He didn't forget about the moms... and dads, for that matter- that are the new generation of boomers. He tapped into their passion for their children and enlisted them as neighborhood organizers. And in spreading his message, they felt empowered. And throughout his courtship of these younger generations, most importantly, he didn't neglect those that came before us. He spoke to issues that plague the sandwich generation and the elders of our country. His vision gained a foothold with this last, vital group, in its excitement for the future. Speaking in terms that convey promise and longevity, a renewal of our basic goals and ideals, and ultimately a refusal to submit to an "inevitable" future. This empowered the people who had worked forty... fifty years of their lives and weren't prepared to just stop contributing to society because they became eligible for retirement or social security.
This type of comprehensive... holistic approach to seeing America- is what we need. This appreciation for and understanding of diversity is what elected Barack Obama president. And his careful, considerate, and eloquent delivery of his very important message, is what will carry our country, on a sea of raised hands, to a new and inspiring place.
Now I know that's not saying much given my usual state of unemployed paralysis, but it's a start. I feel really proud, actually. I feel like the scale of Obama's accomplishment is massive. I'm excited by so much of his vision, but most of all that he empowered millions of people to feel a sense of ownership of our country. In some ways I hate to reduce it to business principles, but I have to admit that this is the best example of creating "buy-in" that I've ever seen. He launched an aggressive, multi-generational marketing campaign that left no person behind. He created a web and multi-media presence that spoke to the generation that speaks in txt msgs and uses the newspaper to line the litter box. For those who were coming of voting age, the seamless branding of Obama's campaign was familiar and emblematic like Nike or Ecko... a part of their burgeoning identity. He didn't forget about the moms... and dads, for that matter- that are the new generation of boomers. He tapped into their passion for their children and enlisted them as neighborhood organizers. And in spreading his message, they felt empowered. And throughout his courtship of these younger generations, most importantly, he didn't neglect those that came before us. He spoke to issues that plague the sandwich generation and the elders of our country. His vision gained a foothold with this last, vital group, in its excitement for the future. Speaking in terms that convey promise and longevity, a renewal of our basic goals and ideals, and ultimately a refusal to submit to an "inevitable" future. This empowered the people who had worked forty... fifty years of their lives and weren't prepared to just stop contributing to society because they became eligible for retirement or social security.
This type of comprehensive... holistic approach to seeing America- is what we need. This appreciation for and understanding of diversity is what elected Barack Obama president. And his careful, considerate, and eloquent delivery of his very important message, is what will carry our country, on a sea of raised hands, to a new and inspiring place.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Yes we did
Republican... Democrat... we made our voices heard at the polls and via mailboxes across the country. And Barack Obama is the next President of the United States of America. For the first time in eight years I feel only pride on November 4th.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Ellen Degeneres school of dancing
Well. In a dance off with me, he would totally lose. He's got the foundation but perhaps needs to spend some time with a master like myself to really hone those skillz.* However, I have yet to see John McCain step out and shake his money maker so I'm thinking it's Obama: 1, McCain: 0 at this point- just on dance credentials alone.
Regardless of who's the better dancer- don't forget to vote by November 4th.
*Sometimes when I'm watching video of people dancing and they're really struggling to find the rhythm or just look plain awkward, I actually find myself dancing a little bit in my seat like somehow I can will them to be better dancers.
Regardless of who's the better dancer- don't forget to vote by November 4th.
*Sometimes when I'm watching video of people dancing and they're really struggling to find the rhythm or just look plain awkward, I actually find myself dancing a little bit in my seat like somehow I can will them to be better dancers.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Culinary dispatches from the homeland
Via a friend from the motherland (aka Maine):
"Well, it has been a while since I heard from you. I am sure you are really busy, but I thought if I sent you a note, you might respond. And then I thought, maybe if I sent a note with a recipe for Pork Cake, you would definitely respond! Here goes:
Pork Cake
Recipe from Mrs. Joseph F. Landrigan
Hartford, CT
1/2 lb salt pork, ground fine
1 lb raisins
5 C flour
1/4 lb walnut meats, cut fine
1 C molasses
1 C Lincoln Dairy milk
2 C sugar
2 Lincoln Dairy Eggs
1 Tbsp soda in 1/4 C hot water
1 1/2 tsp cloves
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
Bake 1 1/4 hours at 350 degrees.
(That's the whole recipe. I guess if you have the balls to make pork cake, you don't worry too much about nuances like how to combine ingredients or what size pan to use.) Enjoy!"
Seriously? Part of me wants to cook this thing. Raise your hand if you think I should. It totally reminds me of the recipes I got handed down to me by my grandmothers. I imagine women relied so heavily on these standby favorites that there was nary a need to elaborate on the preparation.
Oh, and by the way- I did respond. How could I not? A girl sends you a recipe for Pork Cake and I'm pretty sure even Emily Post would agree that deserves a thank you note.
"Well, it has been a while since I heard from you. I am sure you are really busy, but I thought if I sent you a note, you might respond. And then I thought, maybe if I sent a note with a recipe for Pork Cake, you would definitely respond! Here goes:
Pork Cake
Recipe from Mrs. Joseph F. Landrigan
Hartford, CT
1/2 lb salt pork, ground fine
1 lb raisins
5 C flour
1/4 lb walnut meats, cut fine
1 C molasses
1 C Lincoln Dairy milk
2 C sugar
2 Lincoln Dairy Eggs
1 Tbsp soda in 1/4 C hot water
1 1/2 tsp cloves
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
Bake 1 1/4 hours at 350 degrees.
(That's the whole recipe. I guess if you have the balls to make pork cake, you don't worry too much about nuances like how to combine ingredients or what size pan to use.) Enjoy!"
Seriously? Part of me wants to cook this thing. Raise your hand if you think I should. It totally reminds me of the recipes I got handed down to me by my grandmothers. I imagine women relied so heavily on these standby favorites that there was nary a need to elaborate on the preparation.
Oh, and by the way- I did respond. How could I not? A girl sends you a recipe for Pork Cake and I'm pretty sure even Emily Post would agree that deserves a thank you note.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Sugar... aww Honey, Honey
Having married into the Mr. clan, I count myself among the fortunate few to have a bonafide bee keeper in the family. Not only do we regularly enjoy a variety of new honeys at the holidays and special events but we were also able to offer small jars of a lavender varietal as gifts to our wedding guests. A sweet treat indeed. But now we face a challenge. You see, while it's widely known that honey makes almost anything better from pungent cheeses to tea- we can't seem to get through it fast enough. And to add to our dilemma, Mr.Mr. won some [significantly less high quality] honey in a silent auction some time ago.So I'm wondering: What do you do with your honey? Do you have any recipes up your sleeves, on the internet, or in a reputable cookbook that would require anywhere from a 1/4 cup or more?
Image courtesy of healthbolt.com.
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