Dear NY Magazine Approval Matrices,

You are more hilarious than the work assignment I was given to research high-end skin creams over $100.

Click to enlarge graphic, and go here for the archives. You're welcome.

Evolution of the suffix "-log"

First there were clogs.

Then there were BLOGS. (Look no further)

Pushing the linguistic envelope came the fricative loop/jump/whatever of the VLOG

Now....

there are GLOGS. Yes, Glogs. Online scrapbooks, if you willl.

Reminds me of Bill Murray in What About Bob free associating "A dog...a log...a poodle...a noodle...a doodle."

Gee, whiz!
What will they think of next!

What, you don't want to be a glogger too?

Let there be... Barack! (And Mac)

In other news, the light is now shining through the tunnel that is the Democratic Presidential Candidate Race!

I swear, if I see another news magazine juxtaposing their faces, or rehashing the obvious "first-woman! first-black!" ploy once again (as if we didn't so much as see it the first time), I am going to scream.

(seriously, gag me)

However acrimonious I think politics are, I find the angle some publications are taking on the whole Obama/Clinton thing by comparing them to Macs and PCs amusing.

Here is an article by the NY Times and a Huffington Post article that both date back to February (so I'm assuming these were among the first to start the trend).
Even if you aren't among the Economist-devouring elite (I was once upon a time, but I confess I am not currently), they're easy to read.
Promise.

And here's the latest social-technological comparison of Hillary as AOL, Obama as Facebook.

And now that the party-to-party race looks like it's going to be Obama vs. McCain, here's a comparison to McCain taking the role of PC from this LA Times blog, which I see was lifted from the official release on FreePress.com.


On a personal note, I bucked my own family's trend by getting a Mac last summer. It was a dark road to purchase. I had to stay my ground in the midst of my parents shaking their heads with their disapproving "whatever" expressions. The only reassurance was the 800-TO-APPLE lady on the other end of the phone line, the testimonials of my friends who had them, and Apple's downright attractive advertising that wooed me like the Sirens did Odysseus.

(from Apple's Web site)

But now, the light shines. Gone are the days of the 4 hours minimum time required to invest with the odd-hour-working-broken-English-man or woman in New Delhi who "transfers you" or conveniently loses your call when the issue gets tough.

Happily I chuckle watching my father groan as his 'Piece of Crap' freezes his spreadsheets and makes him spend hours de-virusing.

Whenever I visit my brother, I know I can find his perpendicularly turned up computer oddly laying somewhere so it will not overheat.

With pity, I have found my mother seething at her machinery with the simple request of "I just want to print!"


Interestingly enough, the next to succumb to the dark side was my hip 80-something-year-old grandfather who emails.

In all stages of life, it's good to be Mac. And American.

Pasta: tale as old as time!

I am all about debunking misconceptions, especially with this food writing class I am taking. I found out today as I was doing research to decide where I am going to do a restaurant review tonight (homework, it's such a pain sometimes!) from this article from an archaeological news site that the Chinese were making pasta 2,000 years before the Italians.

Just another reason why I'm so excited to visit my friend Dani in Beijing one of these next few years!

Maybe it's part debunking myths, and part the fact that everything in life coexists and contributes and gives to everything else. Who knew that archeology would play a role in my writing - just the concept is fascinating! I think I pondered being an archeology major back in the day- I recall my mom quickly giving me the reality check that it would be a lot of dirt digging, literally. Ironically, I realize now that digging through dirt is precisely what I'm doing with journalism (but the computer is my shovel). I just think that whatever doubts about the future I have (and they plague me as much as anyone else at times), it's a supremely comforting realization that this field is what makes me really happy.

Gossip Girl: True Life!

To make up for the disappointing Gossip Girl finale, I have been entertained to read this morning in New York Magazine of a real life blogger at an Upper East Side school who exposes the scandal of the class of 2012's "social elite."



You know you love me. XOXO

Native New Yorker Part I

I'm here.

I don't know what I love more: the fact that two drugstores, two supermarkets, Barnes and Noble, and Circuit City (just listing a few) are all <1 minute walk from my apartment; the fact that I am finally eating a variety of delicious food again for the first time in 4 months; my class at NYU which is so stimulating; the streets; the fabulous buildings; the hustle and bustle...the list goes on!

The neurosis is great- to all patrons of Whole Foods circa 9am Monday morning, I apologize I was not "with it" enough yet to dance the jig of the whole checkout scene (there are four lines that rotate turns and I got up there too fast to realize there was actually a rhythm to the system of taking turns left to right. Yeah, learned that one in preschool. Whodathought. But whadayagonnado.)

The honking cabs and screaming ambulances at 2 am don't annoy me, they comfort me. They assure me that the world is still gravitating.

I really don't know if I'm ever leaving this place- for example, my crazy mind is already working out logistics for when I'll do graduate schooling here and how, should I ever want babies, I would uproot children here. It is just that fabulous.

I was on the phone the other day with my mom, and I came to an epiphany, telling her how I think most, if not all, of my issues in life have stemmed from boredom. California is beautiful, but it bores me. When I told her I have never felt more "at home" with these New Yorkers and their pace and this environment, she just feigned excitement with a "That's great, honey!" but couldn't hide the fact she was thinking, "Wow, I really don't understand you after all."

Wow, if I am this changed by a pace of life like this, then maybe, I thought, boredom is the root of all evil in the world! We could conquer teen pregnancy, suicide, or drug addiction if everyone just moved to NYC and channeled their energy into productive things! But then, of course, this island can't take much more than 9 million people. Oh well.

As my mother's college friend's daughter told me two summers ago in response to my question of what she thought of her city upbringing, she reflected that it's just nice to know you're never alone. We New Yorkers will always have the city, and it will never fail us, at least in terms of boredom.

Whoever said Republicans couldn't have a Grand Old Party...

obviously didn't see John McCain on Saturday Night Live.

The first video is a self-satirizing "approved message" and the second he goes on the Weekend Update urging Dems to take even longer to nominate a candidate.

"That's right, fight amongst yourselves."

Dear New York City,

Well, you're not always dear, you're actually quite inundating sometimes.


But that is what makes you unique and interesting, and that is why I love you. You're such an insane melting pot of contradictions that include (and are surely not limited to) the following adjectives: gritty, loud, lovely, brutal, honest, kind, delicious, unforgiving, intelligent, hilarious, rushed, open-minded, crowded, hard-working... but above all, you are physically, mentally and emotionally stimulating.


I know you don't care about the fact that I'm coming to live with you for the second time, and frankly, I am way beyond your unwavering apathy (You've got better things to do, I absolutely agree). But I'm still letting you know I'm going to take a parasitic role in my relationship with you this summer, utilizing your resources, invading your haunts, and feeding off your energy that intrigues me so much and makes my heart pulse joy and life through my body and soul.



I know you could care less who I am but I care to let you know that I'm coming. Thus, I raise myself a toast to being young, a time in my life when I am warranted pure unadulterated selfishness, to take advantage of you, the city that never sleeps.


Anxiously anticipating the moment I put my two feet on your pavement again,

A

Philanthropy- so hot right now

If I didn't already love Bono for founding or co-founding numerous international charity organizations (including Project RED, the ONE Campaign, DATA, helping his gorgeous wife Ali Hewson create EDUN- an organic clothing line where the garments are produced ethically in developing countries to help their economies), being a three-time nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize...and then there's all that good music he makes...



well, now I love him even more after seeing this:

"The world is more malleable than you think and it's waiting for you to hammer it into shape."


Food for thought. Have a great day!

Ever seen a fainting goat?

I think we were sitting in a random hotel in Spain somewhere, when my good friend Kendal says, "Hey you know how annoying it is when people say 'OMG watch this you tube clip, it's SO funny'- Well, sorry but I'm gonna do it right now," and proceeded to show us something silly...

Well, I'm going to 'do it right now' too. Watch this short video about FAINTING GOATS. Laughter and a brighter day is guaranteed.

The beauty of the Amazon

So it's midnight. Even if I were still frolicking in Spain on this weeknight, I would be starting to think about winding things down. Nevertheless, after a little Gossip Girl marathon with my little sis, I decide to log into my NYU account to check for any updates. So I get to click on my class, and it redirects me to a Blackboard page where an announcement from the professor is laden with, drumroll... a reading list. Gosh, was my parent's generation this anticipatory? Doubtful. And it was posted a week ago! Crap.
As I'm about to panic (no, I actually cannot walk down to the NYU bookstore tomorrow, sorry), I remember the glorious service that is amazon.com. I ordered my books for Spain on there without a hitch. Perfect. Let the problem be solved with a new tab in my Firefox window.

A few clicks later and I haven't been so stoked about online shopping since the day I discovered PayPal.

Yes, I had to splurge for the 2-day shipping, of course, because I am leaving southern California in T-4 (3.5 now) days. And I don't think Saturday is a "business day" for shipping. Bureaucracy, whatever. Therefore, I decide my next cost-friendly option is having them delivered to my cousins' upper east side townhouse. But then there's the ambiguity of when it would actually make it there, not to mention the fact of making a special trip uptown-- between my class, interviews I have lined up, not to mention the fact I may already need to have read something come next Monday, blah blah blah... the whole thing would be such.... a..... hassle!

(Thank you Anne Taintor)

And there, I realize, is my return to my New Yorker self. A little "devolver," if you will.




Lesson #1 for NYC living: Convenience can be bought, and it is usually quite worth it.
Whether it's sending out your laundry, ordering groceries online, or having your day's retail purchases delivered (or UPS-ed if you're not in a rush or don't have a doorman and won't be home to pick them up yourself)...is a handy thing. That, unless you want to schlep your garb around whilst hailing a cab or swiping your Metrocard, sweat beading on your face, realizing you've spent most of the day doing something that could've been solved with a little expediting...that, my friend, is the face of inconvenience.

Amazon, you've done it again- you've averted my crisis, appeased my worries, ennabled me a peaceful night's sleep... all from the comforts of my bedroom at home. Not only do the books look scrumptious enough to eat (partial truth), but best of all they will be on my doorstep in... 48 hours.
Shipping cost withheld. :)

The Brits have some pipes...

Until I get to New York to pound the hot pavement and soul search in my favorite park, I am writing about pop culture. Bear with this little ditty about my new favorite Brits Adele, Duffy and Leona Lewis. These new Brits on the block are some brassy birds who have the soulful melodies to boot. You can just imagine them being discovered by some mainstream label standing in the back of some smoky London pub.

Adele: I love "Hometown Glory" and I just discovered "Chasing Pavements." Her voice has the huskiness of Amy Winehouse whilst lilting back to the softness of a Mary Poppins tuck-in lullaby.

Duffy: This petite sass's hit "Mercy" is already gone through the overplayed rounds on European radio stations. Recently, I bopped around a little East German town with friends while this crooned from the speakers. I'm awaiting the release of her new album Rockferry.


Leona Lewis: She's gorgeous and admits weakness! I think Bleeding Love says it all...

Not new, and never been a huge fan, but I sort of dig James Blunt's latest album "All the Lost Souls" after hearing "1973" in a trendy store in Madrid. Maybe it was the cute girls asking me to "probar" things like I was one of their girlfriends, but as they sung along I felt like being in a club dancing with Mr. B.

Oh, and Coldplay has a new album coming entitled Viva la Vida. Sounds a bit more "joie de vivre" for such a melancholy bunch, but I'll probably love it just as much as I've loved everything else they've done. ...Perhaps it's the Gwyneth that inspired such a mood shift. Love her. And who wouldn't?

The hard body debacle

So this morning I'm getting a filling at the dentist (my first...thank you), and as my mouth is getting shot up with novocaine, some story on I'm watching The Daily 10 on E! comes on about Mischa Barton getting attacked for having cellulite. With a DUI under her belt, maybe this is her descent from OC bombshell to soft- bodied- British- Keds- wearing- has- been as we know it! Oh, Hollywood, you're so terrible.

I remember standing behind her on the tarmac at Paris's Charles de Gaulle airport around April 2005, waiting to board our AirFrance flight to Los Angeles. This was the height of the Mischa Barton craze in the US, so I thought it was pretty cool, even if she was being a total pill. My own mom didn't have a clue of who she was (I flipped open my magazine and showed her).


But seriously, this is an age-old question (well maybe half-century old question) but exactly when did the quest for the hard body become desirable? You know what I'm talking about- all the low-fat, low-carb, low sugar, egg- wheat- and dairy-free nonsense that has made America even more obese than when we started the quest for the hard body. Anyone?


Believe me, I'm guilty of it. I spent enough of my teen years in a starved state of self-hatred to know. But seriously.


I just read in a recent study by a popular women's magazine that found 65 percent of women have disordered eating and an additional 10 percent have full-fledged eating disorders. That means 3 in 4 women have food problems. Isn't that around the same percentage of people in the US who are overweight/obese? Interesting.

Here's Marilyn circa 1946...

Like many a civilization of centuries past, perhaps the downfall of ours will be faulted to internal problems. No, not the political or religious turmoil that repeats itself on the pages of our history books, but deeper down under our own skin. Why can't we all make peace, and eat our steaks, salads, bread and chocolate when and whenever we want it? It's been said that love conquers all. Let's start with ourselves.

Got a mattock? There are whales to be flenced. (what can FreeRice.com do for you?)

I was going a little crazy this morning from lack of stimuli (back from Spain, counting the days until I get to New York...what's a high- functioning- obsessive- personality- type girl to do?), sitting there thinking about the events of my life and how downright screwed up the world is, feeling selfish for being in a position to indulge those kinds of thoughts, et cetera.

Which brings me to www.FreeRice.com. It's a Web site that simultaneously manages to intellectually stimulate through a word game and donate rice to the third world. It's like Robin Hood, but seeing how our society is over being altruistic these days, it's a win-win for both sides: Not only are the poor fed, but the rich (all of us blessed few who live above the poverty line) get smarter. How's that for privatized charity?

Here's the procedure:

No pesky registration required. That's right, no "just give us your email so we can send you things to spam your inbox later" (now let us imagine a world without that).
You just go to the Web site, and click.
Yup.

So even amidst my "unproductive" morning, I can feel good about donating 500 grains of rice within minutes, learning words like "mattock" (a pickax for digging) and "flence" (to strip away blubber from) along the way, which I hope find a way in my regular vocabulary soon. But not as much as I hope some starving Sudanese child gets a meal tonight.

www.FreeRice.com