« February 2006 | Main | April 2006 »

March 30, 2006

Sleep In, Dine Out

It occurs to me that instead of checking obsessively for comments, I should post something new on the blog.

Still, I don't have anything interesting to say. Sometime this morning, my brain started to feel as if it had been brined and pickled, and ever since I've been a blithering idiot. I'm wondering if this is associated at all with the large amount of bee pollen I ate last night. Possibly not, since my coworkers seem to be passing something around and I probably just caught it, but I can't help wondering.

Here's a bit of news about the outside world. Dine In Brooklyn -- the week during which you can eat a three-course meal at many fine Brooklyn dining establishments for a mere $20.06 -- is fast approaching. It starts Monday, April 3rd and runs through the 11th. I suggest you call your favorite bklyn restaurant and make a reservation if you haven't already. (Derek, this means you. I'm too sick.)

Here are some recommendations for Park Slope (it's funny: I was surprised to find so many other neighborhoods participating -- I had forgotten that a) Brooklyn is huge and b) Park Slope is not the center of the culinary universe).

12th Street Bar & Grill
1123 8th Avenue
718-965-9526

Applewood
501 11th Street
718-768-2044

Blue Ribbon Sushi
278 5th Avenue
718-840-0408

Rose Water
787 Union Street
718-783-3800

Stone Park Café
324 5th Avenue
718-369-0082

And now, back to the task of drinking the entire glass of yellowish-blue Emergen-C.

Posted by csageday at 09:41 PM | Comments (1)

March 26, 2006

Allergy Season

It's here. I'm just starting to feel the fuzziness in my head. I've been sneezing and blowing my nose, too, and this is a bad sign. Each year my allergies seem to be worse. And each year I suffer stoicly through them, putting off medication in the hope that it'll all be over soon. It lasts for ages, though -- longer each year -- and I blame this entirely on the poor air quality in the city. For all the advantages of living here, the air is a definite drawback and in the spring I always fanticize about living in a farm somewhere, far away from the clouds of bus-generated, lung-stressing diesel fumes.

About four years ago I finally sent myself to New York Magazine's allergy-doctor-of-the-moment. He did a bunch of tests and confirmed that I'm allergic to grass and tree pollen. He also sent me home with lots of free medication (which is why, I suspect, he was so popular with magazine readers). The Allegra and Flonase worked, and I had a bearable spring that year.

The following year, I planned ahead and got my Allegra prescription, only to find our that my health plan decided that it didn't need to cover Allegra. Clarinex only, which doesn't work for me. Ever since, I've been a snotty mess all spring. My nose is like a faucet, and I'm incapable of staying outside (even at the cherry blossom festival, which I was determined to enjoy).

This allergy season, out of sheer desperation, I'm taking a different tack. I'm ignoring the medical establishment altogether and buying things from women in shawls and headscarves in tiny off-the-beaten track stalls. My mother would be mortified.

Derek's mom, however, is a seasoned alternative medicine expert. She has gladly given me advice on herbal remedies, since the rest of the family tends to shy away from her regular admonitions to take bovine eye supplements, echinacea, etc. With her help, I've been steered toward buying various bags of dried brown things. Also dried yellow things. We're in Delaware for the weekend, and we went to one of those indoor weekend markets yesterday that carries everything from Amish sausage to garage sale rejects. I bravely ventured into a stand with herbal remedies of various sorts picked up some astrogolus for less than $2. It's the real thing -- little slices of the root. I also picked up a jar of bee pollen, which I've become addicted to. It's chewy and a little sticky. Once you've started down this path, there are endless opportunities to get caugt up in exotic cure-alls -- it's a bit daunting. After I'd picked up the bee pollen, I inexplicably found myself buying flax meal and some other odd-looking herb. It's a slippery slope.

Derek's mom has lent me an old book called "Folk Medicine" to help me along my alternative medicine route. It describes "Vermont healing practices" and focuses largely on honey, vinegar, and frequent urinalysis (with your trusy "Squibb's Nitrazine Paper"). These three things, used in combination, can ostendibly cure everything from bedwetting to high blood pressure. There is also the odd mention of turpentine and castor oil. The book, thankfully, doesn't require urinalysis or castor oil for allergy treatment, but strongly recommends replacing daily coffee with Brigham tea to address severe allergies. I'm also supposed to contact my local Vermont honey beekeeper and get a year's worth of honeycomb cappings to chew on. This seems less likely, but the book is so pursuasive that I'm convinced the tea will solve everything.

Actually, every recommendation in every herbal remedy book seems to be guaranteed to fix my allergy problem (and several others), so how can I possibly fail? I plan to eat a teaspoon of bee pollen a day, along with a cup of astragolus-infused Brigham tea. I'm not entirely sure the astragolus will help the allergies -- it's supposed to strengthen the immune system, which may mean that I'll react even more strongly to allergens, but I could swear I read somewhere that it can help. Honestly, isn't it obvious that I'm a little desperate here? I'll try anything.

Posted by csageday at 05:04 PM | Comments (1)

March 20, 2006

Black Bean Soup with Chorizo (A Work in Progress)

Here's another recipe (a somewhat more original one, thank you, but note the disclaimer above and proceed with caution). I think I've just stepped over some sort of blog boundary by posting a recipe. Also, eight of the last ten posts are about food. Is this a food blog now? I hope not, because I don't think I'm quite qualified to be dispensing food advice. Information about forays into new food territory, yes, but recipes ... well, just take everything with a grain of salt (pardon the pun).

We just finished making this and the apartment smells wonderful. The chorizo has enough flavor to transform a regular black bean soup into something really good.

Start with a regular black bean soup recipe -- we adapted the Cuban one in Joy. At some point, add chorizo. Here's what we did.

We sauteed the following in a soup pot until it was soft:
1 yellow onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeno, seeded and minced
2 plum tomatoes, chopped
12-15 half-inch slices of good chorizo
salt and pepper

Then we added 2 cups of black beans that we'd soaked overnight and then simmered in water for an hour, along with a cup or two of vegetable broth (I'm thinking canned beans would work fine, too). We mashed up the beans some and then simmered it for another hour. The beans still aren't quite as soft as we'd like, but the flavor, thanks to the chorizo, is great.

I think some sort of green topping might be appropriate -- scallions or chopped cilantro, maybe? Joy suggests Cuban-style toppings like onions and chopped hard boiled eggs. I tend to like yogurt or sour cream on top, too. Sherry is good (oops, forgot to add that). We have enough soup to feed ourselves for a week, so we'll play around and see what works.

Posted by csageday at 09:47 PM | Comments (0)

Shrimp with Lime and Cilantro (and Orange Marmalade)

As per usual, here's another post about food. Shrimp, specifically. Not only is it a food post, it's a food post with a recipe. A plagiarized one, but nevermind that. Here's what you need:

1 lb. shrimp, peeled (except for the tail) and deveined
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 t. salt
juice of 3 limes
1/4 cup orange marmalade
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
1 t. soy sauce (more if you like)
1/4 t. red pepper flakes
pepper

Mash the garlic up with the salt. Whisk it together with everything but the shrimp, then add the shrimp (actually, the recipe says to reserve a third of the mixture for dipping sauce, but I forgot and the extra sauce in the finished product was fine). Throw it all it in the fridge for 15 minutes. Then throw it in a skillet and cook for 1.5 minutes on each side (don't overdo it). Serve over brown rice. Thank me in the comments.

I'm going to go whip some more cream now. Oh, and since I'm on a whipping kick, it's only a matter of time before I make one of my favorite childhood desserts, merengues meringues.

Posted by csageday at 09:18 PM | Comments (1)

TG's

Thank you, ck, for telling me about Trader Joe's being open (finally). I feel like a negligent foodie for not knowing the exact date myself. I now plan to avoid Union Square until the mayhem has died down a bit (there's a line just to get in the door, I hear). Every New Yorker has been talking about this for months. It's standard elevator conversation, because the city is a damned mecca for foodies.

Here's a little story to illustrate my point. I was in an elevator, having the usual conversation about Trader Joe's. It goes like this:

"You know, Trader Joe's is opening up soon." [this is followed by an expectant, meaningful glance at the other person, to see if he/she is in the know or needs to be converted]

[eagerly] "Yeah, I LOVE Trader Joe's. I've been getting their [insert product name here] from [Connecticut/Long Island/Delaware] for years. In Union Square, right?"

[knowingly] "Yup, sometime in March."

[doubtful] "It's going to be right near three other grocery stores."

[rolling eyes] "Yeah, but it's so much cheaper than Whole Foods and everything else."

"So when's it opening again?"

"Uh, I'm not sure, but they were actually bringing food in last I checked."

Right, so a total stranger came into the elevator at the "when's it opening again" part, and without hearing any of the earlier bits, immediately said "Trader Joe's, right? March 17th."

Posted by csageday at 09:08 PM | Comments (0)

March 19, 2006

Fresh Sardines

Remeber how I really like sardines? Well I bought some fresh ones yesterday for kicks. (Sorry if my less-than-appetizing photos induce queasiness.)

Joy of Cooking (which I've come to use more and more, since it just has everything you might possibly be looking for) had a section on what to do with them. According to Joy, it's "easy" to remove the spine and bones. This is a lie. If I had followed the book's helpful little illustrated instructions, I would have pulled out half of the flesh as well. I managed to get the spine out of one but gave up after that. Then I added things from the fridge that seemed appropriate: lemon, cilantro, scallions. Per Joy, I dutifully dredged them in peppered flour, sprinkled the herbs on top, and fried them.

They weren't bad -- the flavor was quite good, actually -- but I had quite a time getting the bones out of the one I was too lazy to debone before cooking. I ate a bunch of them, and I'm pretty sure my liver (or some other vital internal organ) currently looks like a porcupine.

Posted by csageday at 10:33 PM | Comments (1)

Colorful Quarters

I got these two quarters as change from a coffee stand on 4th Avenue. Has anyone ever seen these types of state quarters before? They look like they've been stamped with paint. I'm not sure if this is some sort of official project or a local artist's idea.

Posted by csageday at 07:32 PM | Comments (2)

The Dumpling Factory

One of the cooking magazines I subscribe to, Cuisine at Home, often has recipes for homemade dumplings. I've always been intrigued, but I haven't came across the dumping wrappers at the Co-op yet. When we found some in Sunset Park the other day, it seemed like fate. We ran home and bought some stuffing ingredients (based on what we thought should go in a good vegetarian dumpling), and made them the next day. The stuffing took a bit of patience -- we didn't get the crimping aroung the edges to work quite right, and it gets boring. We were wondering if this becomes the kids' job in households with children (like shucking corn or peeling carrots). The novelty wears off pretty quickly. We made enough for dinner, ate, and then moved the assembly line to the living room to finish up the job and freeze the rest. The stuffing goes like this: grab a wrapper, put a teaspoon of stuffing on it, wet the enges, seal it, make some effort to crimp something, give up, dip in flour, set aside. Repeat. They cook quickly, so it'll be nice to have a supply in the freezer, but this is not going to be one of our regular staples, I don't think. We got so bored with the stuffing that we started talking about starting a company with both our initials in the name: CDDC. It's lame, and it's short the Cindy Derek Dumpling Company.

Posted by csageday at 07:19 PM | Comments (0)

March 18, 2006

Whipped Cream

I have many interesting things to report on the cooking front. Lately we've made dumplings (complete with an assembly line for stuffing and sealing them), broccoli with udon noodles (I hated it, Derek loved it), an amazing shrimp with lime and cilantro recipe (from the Gourmet Cookbook), and whipped cream. The most fascinating item was the whipped cream. Have you ever whipped cream by hand? I hadn't. I've seen it done on countless cooking shows, though. It usually goes like this: Expert chef assures amateur chef that cream/egg whites can be hand whipped. Expert hands amateur the whisk. Amateur happily starts whisking. The show cuts to a shot showing the amateur with transformed egg whites or cream. I have always been curious to know exactly how much whipping was needed. Was the amateur's arm about to fall off? Did they slip it in a Cuisinart off camera?

Here's why we needed whipped cream. Derek cleaned out our kitchen cabinets yesterday in search of insects (he is at war with the mini-roaches we keep seeing). In doing so he found some Jello mix. To avoid putting quite so many sugary, insect-attracting things back in the cabinet, he made Jello. Then, at the Coop today, I decided that we needed to have whipped cream with the Jello, so we bought some heavy cream. Then, during some NCAA baskeball time-out or something this evening (D's the basketball fan, I barely understand the rules), D said "I'm getting the Jello. What do I do, just whip the cream?" I panicked, since I wanted to be the cream-whipper, said I'd do it, and ran off to the kitchen. Finally, the mystery of whipping cream would be revealed. The glass bowl I wanted was in the dishwasher, still warm from the cycle. I worried that this might possibly make whipping difficult, so I had the brilliant idea of putting the bowl briefly in the freezer. It didn't really fit, so I shoved it in and slammed the door shut. I had planned to wait there for a minute and take it out, but I got antsy and decided to get the cream out instead. I closed the refrigerator door, turned around, put it on the counter, and then heard the most distubing sound. The freezer door was opening. The bowl was moving. I couldn't quite turn around fast enough to catch it, so the bowl crashed dramatically to the floor and broke into at least a thousand pieces. Pyrex, when it breaks, is a bit like that glass they use in car windshields. Only sharper. I spent at least 15 minutes cleaning things up and cursing myself for my stupid cool-down-the-bowl plan. How did I get to be such a braindead idiot? Who DOES things like that, anyway? I can't quite bring myself to tell Derek exactly how I broke the bowl (and I know he's a sporadic blog reader, so maybe he'll never find out). But I'm getting off topic.

I found another bowl and poured in half the cream, so I'd have some left if I dramatically screwed up the whipping somehow. I started whipping. After only a few seconds I could feel it get a little thicker, and it stayed that way for a while. The consistency was a bit like chocolate syrup. I looked around for something to read while I whipped. I grabbed a cookbook while whipping (can you see how this constant urge to multitask might be disastrous?). I whipped some more. I opened up the the index of the book to look for chocolate mousse, and then, all of the sudden, this dramatic change in consistency took place in the bowl and I was whipping something that looked exactly like Readi Whip. I don't think I'd been whipping more than 3 minutes. I was amazed. It's so easy! It's a little bland without something in it -- I guess I should add some sugar or something at the beginning? -- but it's the real thing. I think it's magic.

Posted by csageday at 11:10 PM | Comments (5)

March 13, 2006

Figs and Dates

Whole Foods has been the source of two fruit fetishes of mine over the past year. First, I discovered organic figs while on my endless search for snacks to eat during work. Recently, at the same counter, I discovered organic dates. Now I constantly mix the two up, so if this blog entry makes no sense just substitute one for the other.

A little history: I am, and always have been, constantly hungry. I have to maintain a survival strategy while stationed at a cubicle during the day. I keep snacks like banana chips or granola stashed away in my desk. I live in fear of being caught without something interesting to snack on. It's a wonder I'm not obese. I try to keep healthy snacks nearby to fend off trips to the vending machine, since our vending machine is stocked with unworthy chocolate and regrettable experiments: Reses bars with caramel, for instance, or Snickers pieces. It's a necessary strategy.

I think I'm also still getting over a childhood-inspired amazement about just how much food (and good chocolate) is available in the wide world, and how much I can afford to buy. I no longer have to satisfy my cravings with cous-cous (a favorite after-school snack in elementary school). I went through an entire bag of Cadbury mini-eggs last week in blissful self-indulgence (until the headache and stomachache kicked in, anyway).

Back to the (organic) figs and dates. For a while, they kept me away from the chocolate and Skittles at work. Both can be bought at Whole Foods at exorbitant prices and eaten right out of the box. The figs are wonderful -- they're sweet, but not too sweet, they have a nice texture. The structure and color is pretty, too, if you slice them open. Not every fig will be perfectly sweet and ripe -- you have to pick out the duds. Still, they're fine on their own. I had a little fig fetish over the summer and always meant to cook with them, but never got around to it since I had eaten them all by the time I got home.

With dates, I feel like I have discovered candy that grows on trees. They're very sweet and gooey, like caramel that still has the tannic quality of undissolved sugar. First, I ate them during work, wondering if anyone thought it was strange that I was eating black turd-like fruit. Then I brought them home and started eating them for breakfast and dessert. And snacks. I would reach a saturation point and then crave them desperately the next day. I know I've had figs before and haven't found them quite as good -- there was a taste I didn't like. I'm wondering if my tastes have changed or Whole Foods just has better dates. My mother tells that she made the same discovery at my age, so maybe it's genetic (she also tells me a creative affair with balsa wood is inevitable and I, ahem, just recently bought some).

Wikipedia has interesting information about figs and dates. Dates, for instance, may have been cultivated since 6000 BC. Eve's apple may have been a fig (this explains everything). They're also good for you.

My next, somewhat more exotic fruit experiment will be the cherimoya, purchased at the Coop yesterday. We're supposed to check it daily and eat it when it's soft, like an avocado.

Posted by csageday at 10:05 PM | Comments (1)

March 12, 2006

Sunset Park

Since yesterday's weather was gorgeous (Spring is coming!), we took the bus to Sunset Park and wandered around 5th Avenue (great for Mexican street food) and then 8th Avenue (Brooklyn's Chinatown). I think we started at 39th street, crossed over in the 50s and ended at 61st (the N/R stop). Each neighborhood is so ethnically distinctive that you feel like you're visiting another country. On 5th, nearly everyone speaks Spanish. On 8th, it's Chinese (I think). And of course, the best part of being in each is the opportunity to try the food.

On 5th, we started out with wonderful corn on the cob from a street vendor -- with crema and queso blanco and chile powder -- and then had a great tamale and some horchata. One particular tacqueria on a side street was packed and looked really good, but we didn't quite have the courage to be the only gringos in the whole place. On 8th, we shopped. I wandered around one store forever, wishing I knew what to do with the unidentifiable ingredients in bins at my feet. There were all kinds of ginseng and dried fish and buns (the same assortment you find in Chinatown, but cheaper). I finally bought a few things with English labeling: buns with red bean paste (you only need to pop them in the microwave for 2 minutes -- they make a great breakfast), dumpling wrappers (we made dumplings tonight), and fish crackers. I obviously need to rent old episodes of Yan Can Cook so I can take better advantage of the variety (and prices) there. Finally, we hit a bakery for fresh sweet (coconut cream) and savory (shredded pork) buns.

Posted by csageday at 09:54 PM | Comments (0)

Thank You, Craig School Auction

Last weekend, we attended the swanky suburban extravaganza of school spirit and upscale New Jersey fundraising known as the annual Craig School auction. "Tuscan Splendor" was the theme, and I am now the proud owner of not one, but two artfully assembled bunches of plastic grapes, which I developed quite an affinity for at the event.

Mom works at Craig, my brother went there, and I am the deliquent website designer. It's a great, close-knit school that has been steadily growing over the past few years. I was blown away by the scale of the auction this year. There's a silent auction, a live auction, a cash raffle, and gift baskets that you can buy raffle tickets for. We usually bid on things just for the fun of it and end up taking things home that we may or may not need (the coffee mug I'm drinking is from a Craig auction in the 90s and I love it, but I think the accompanying items went to a stoop sale). In this year's live auction, trips to exotic places, opera tickets, and a guitar signed by Bon Jovi were highlights.

I was woefully underdressed, failing to have purchased a dress with a lacy shawl and high heels at the Short Hills mall ahead of time (the outfit of choice in Morristown, NJ these days). My turtleneck, skirt, and glasses look (a la Velma from Scooby Doo) didn't quite make it. (Side note: In my rush to Century 21 on the way to the train to pick up tights, I also picked up leg warmers and discovered that they actually work. If you're wearing a skirt and it's freezing out -- and you don't mind looking like an extra on Flashdance -- they're perfect.)

Anyway, we lucked out at the auction this year, thanks to Derek's strategic placement of raffle tickets in baskets.

Remember how I mentioned that we don't own a teapot that whistles? This has been an ongoing saga. First, I burned out a saucepan numerous times while boiling water for tea. This made Derek a little nuts. Mom bought be a nice teapot but it seemed to leave mineral deposits in the water. So I bought a different type of teapot but lost the whistler in the move and burned it to a crisp. I bought a replacement at Pearl River, but the handle got boiling hot and the whistler didn't work. Mom gave me ANOTHER teapot for Christmas, but that also had a whistler that didn't work, so I reverted to the saucepan method. That's four faulty teapots in the space of a year.

I've had similar luck with coffee makers -- I broke a college roomate's coffee maker and I can't seem to make coffee that tastes good. I own an espresso maker and a coffee maker but have never gotten decent coffee out of either (they both years of dust caked on them and live in boxes). I finally switched to using one of those filter holders that you postion over a mug and pour water into. It's really all I can handle.

So, I was absolutely thrilled to win a huge gift basket with a fancy coffee maker, a beautiful, whistling teapot (!), lots of coffee, and two travel mugs which will come in handy when the cops start enforcing that new law about coffee on the subway (until we won the basket I was considering a career as a coffee-on-the-train activist). The coffee maker has a timer and a water filter and a clock and is amazing. We just made our first pot and it, miraculously, tastes fine. The basket even came with a little coffee-measuring spoon. And the coffee maker stops brewing if you take the pot out in the middle to pour yourself some coffee. Thanks, Craig, for giving a long-suffering coffee and tea addict some decent tools to work with.

Posted by csageday at 12:31 PM | Comments (0)

March 08, 2006

Beware the Ziegfeld Posse

We’ve been to two movies at the Ziegfeld recently: Star Wars (okay, that’s not so recent) and Raiders of the Lost Ark (Derek is of the generation that reveres this movie). I love the theater – it’s huge and red and nostalgic for a more glamorous era of movie-going. Still, at each movie we’ve encountered a loud, obnoxious, pizza- and hot dog-eating posse of 20-somethings. This may have something to do with the fact that both movies were cultish Lucas films, but the behavior was so similar that I think it might be something else. They congregate around 20 minutes before the movie and grab seats. Then they stand in the rows gossiping or leave to get food from various street vendors. They don’t seem to have much regard for anyone else in the theater, and they don’t stop talking at the top of their lungs until the movie starts, at which point they clap and laugh uproariously at anything that might be perceived as an inside joke among cult film addicts. I wonder if there’s some hopelessly-single support group they all belong to. I wish they wouldn’t invade the Ziegfeld.

Posted by csageday at 06:55 PM | Comments (0)

March 05, 2006

Most Adorable Oscar Recipients (So Far)

First Prize: Wallace & Gromit winners, who wore huge bow ties and brought a little one for the statue

Second Prize: The March of the Penguins men, who all brought stuffed penguins, said thank you in "penguin" and had cute accents

Third Prize: George Clooney. Just because.

Posted by csageday at 09:32 PM | Comments (0)

Dad's 70th

Mom threw a fabulous family-and-friends fete for Dad's 70th last Sunday. The usual pre-party panic somehow paid off and the house was transformed into a perfect upscale brunch locale. A few photos, taken by Dad's various children and grandchilren, are on Dad's Flickr site. I had the bright idea that I was going to write a lengthy satirical poem about his many careers, marriages, and hobbies (he's a colorful character), but I couldn't seem to get anything to rhyme. I started out with "Dad turned 70 today, though he hardly looks that way," (and he really doesn't -- he isn't even gray -- shoot, that rhymes! I didn't think of that before, damn). Since he's still not walking we kept the party small -- two more affairs are set to be scheduled in the summer -- maybe I'll get something better together by then.

Posted by csageday at 05:30 PM | Comments (0)

Whiskey Sours and Cocktail Hours

In regard to my rambling post about finding a favorite drink:

1. There was a drink I knew I liked but couldn't remember: it was a whiskey sour. This is a serious contender for the signature drink category -- I may not like whiskey but whiskey sours are great.

2. A friend told us last night about her grandparents' "cocktail hour" tradition. Classy people, these grandparents. No matter what the circumstance, they kept a tradition of sitting down to cheese and crackers and cocktails at 5 p.m. every day. The kids were banished and other pressing matters were postponed so they could devote that time to each other. If they were in the car, they would PULL OVER to the side of the road, get the travel supply of cheese, vodka, and whiskey from the glove compartment, and keep the appointment. When our friend asked them what had kept them together for 60 years, her grandmother responded immediately with "cocktail hour." Whether this referred to the alcohol or the private time was unclear.

3. I had a glass of port last night, and I have been dutifully drinking my Sauternes dessert wine in the evening. This doesn't fall into the cocktail category, sadly, but I wonder if I could bend the rules. I LOVE port. If I'm trying to stick with the 50s tradition of drinking, which seems to be the appropriate classic example to follow, port is unacceptable. It's an after-dinner embellishment, not a cocktail hour standard.

Posted by csageday at 10:48 AM | Comments (0)

March 02, 2006

You know things have gotten bad if....

1. I've started talking in my sleep. Last night I mumbled a bit and then said "You stole my artwork." to Derek. I don't use the word "artwork" all that much. I have no idea what that was about.

2. I'm watching reality shows. I sat in a heap of captivated self-loathing while watching the final episode of The Bachelor: Paris. Why??? Why did I watch the endless hopeful monologues of overly made-up women in evening dress stores? Why did I watch the rejected bride-to-be sob in the back of a limo? The show is such a pathetic waste of time. These poor, demented women sign up in a kind of human husband lotto, where they have a miniscule chance of living happily ever after (or until they break up two weeks after the show) with a man they haven't met. The whole show is kind of revolting, which, of course, is why people watch it. What sucks is that these man-chasing competitive women actually seem to fall in love with the guy toward the end and start spewing out cliches about opening their hearts and letting him in and feeling a real connection, but of course they're just going to have their warped little hearts broken. But they have to KNOW that, right? What I don't get is, when the woman was sobbing in the limo, why wasn't she cursing the show and all of its heartless producers? And the voyeurish viewers for supporting the whole painful venture? I'd be sitting there going, "God, I'm such an IDIOT -- why did I sign up for this stupid shit? And that asshole! And you, the stupid camera man -- I'm bawling and you're not even offering a god damned tissue? What kind of a show is this?" Must be in the contract.

Still, that said, Derek and I both like Beauty and the Geek. Not all reality shows are exploitative horrible things. It still has all of the un-realistic showboating and drama, but as it progresses it becomes a much more positive show. It's great to see the participants struggle with everyday things (the geeks with any sort of social human contact, the beauties with, say, reading a map). It also offers an interesting commentary on the different social strata that people inhabit. Needless to say, D and I both fall in the geek category, though neither of us have the physical or fashion-sense impairments that distinguish some of the geeks (well, at least I don't have the fashion-sense impairment), so we usually side with them. And I have a huge soft spot for chess-playing, painfully self-conscious, pocket-protector-wearing men. They’re so cute!

Posted by csageday at 10:07 PM | Comments (2)