the mountain top

i think in elementary school i probably tried to make an effort to think about MLK for a couple minutes while i was watching cartoons or playing in the snow with friends. lawrenceville is too good for federal holidays, so we never got MLK day off. sophomore year, a girl a year or two ahead of me organized a school-wide community service day in honor of MLK, so that year and every year since every student at lville participates in one of many service programs around lawrenceville/trenton. maybe in 8 years, that will be what what MLK day is all about all over the country. gobama. 

i’m quite illiterate, but i read a lot

things i look forward to every week:

sunday ny times

nytimes magazine

newsweek

the new yorker

 

why i actually look forward to them:

sunday ny times: sunday styles –> wedding announcements & socialite pictures. i look (frequently in vain) for vassar grads, judge everyone else, and take note of ages to gauge how much longer i have before i need to start worrying. 

nytimes magazine: the ethicist, questions for…, the real estate pages, and occasionally actual articles. but really, only occasionally. and i don’t like the ethicist just because he spoke at vassar’s commencement. i was one of, like, 20 people who was actually thrilled by the announcement that he would be our speaker.

newsweek: conventional wisdom, perspectives, sometimes the articles if they aren’t too long, sometimes anna quindlen.

the new yorker: umm… the cartoons? i can’t remember the last time i actually read anything other than the real estate ads. 

but my total lack of sophistication pays off sometimes, because while the vast majority of the [few] articles i [occasionally] read in these periodicals are informative, enlightening and inevitably depressing, i quite often stumble upon things in the previously mentioned features that make my day/week/month.

case in point, this week’s newsweek’s perspectives page (for those of you who are too busy reading the important articles to condescend to read perspectives, or those of you who are philistines and don’t even PRETEND to read newsweek, or for those of you who read time (god help you), perspectives is where they have political cartoons and noteworthy quotes from politicians/celebrities/normal people from the previous week):

 ”I love this rug.”

- former President Bill Clinton to George W. Bush, at a White House luncheon for all 5 living Presidents

wah. wah.

what’s with today, today?

today was just one of THOOOOOSE days.

i decided not to shower last night, because it was late, i was tired, and i figured i might as well go to bed, so long as i actually got up when my alarm went off instead of pressing snooze for 20 minutes. i pressed snooze for 10 minutes, but was nonetheless pleased with my progress. upon getting out of the shower, i realized i had a mere 30 minutes to do what normally takes me 45. so i “rushed” and inevitably left ten minutes later than i had planned. i skipped breakfast, too, because on mondays someone brings in breakfast for the whole team.

of course, this monday, nobody brought in breakfast. so i had to go downstairs and buy breakfast at the cafeteria, which isn’t actually that bad, except that i resolved (for the sake of my wallet/figure) to stop buying meals and (1) eat breakfast at home and (2) bring healthy leftovers/frozen meals (kashi frozen meals are actually REALLY good, should come as no surprise). i even went to target yesterday to buy FIVE frozen kashi meals in order to begin my resolution in earnest. of course, i forgot my kashi meal, so i ALSO had to buy lunch. 

one nice thing about today was that i actually had work to do. so much work, in fact, that i didn’t even g-chat until right before i left. i spent the whole morning working on one project, and then after lunch began working on another, which was essentially compiling a massive spreadsheet (interestingly, when i first typed that, i wrote “spreadshit”) of information. around 4pm, i was deep into my spreadshit, and nowhere near finished, and i promptly STEPPED ON MY SURGE PROTECTOR. what. the. fuck. computer shuts down instantaneously, auto-save is apparently a figment of my imagination/gargantuan oversight on the part of IT. 

i get pretty upset about this, to the point where there is nothing i can do but put my head down on my desk and laugh hysterically. i whine about it to gillian for a bit, make sure i haven’t screwed over my boss, who thankfully says there is no rush on that project, then take out my wallet so i can go to the vending machine and eat my feelings. at which point i notice that my debit card is missing. what. the. fuck. turns out i left it at a restaurant in princeton. anyway, i eat my BAKED doritos then head to therapy, narrowly missing half a dozen deer on the way. 

side note: in order to restore some sort of balance in nature, i think a deer-predator, other than myself, needs to be introduced to the wild. i am thinking probably wolves. according to wikipedia, there have been almost no wolf attacks on humans. like, ever. i was surprised to hear this, since the wolf scene from my antonia still haunts me, but my dad confirmed it (so you KNOW it’s true). anyway, i’m officially a member (and founder/ceo) of wolves for new jersey. also, WHY are canadian geese still endangered species? there are quite literally HUNDREDS of them living on lawrenceville’s campus alone, shitting quite indiscriminately. the field across from my house is absolutely carpeted with the stuff, despite abby doing her part to ingest as much of it as she can. YUM. maybe wolves eat geese as well. 

after dinner, mom, dad and i watch the wire, and by “watch the wire” i mean watch the episode in three to five minute chunks, since we have to pause it every so often so my parents can make sure they understand what’s going on/language. this is WITH subtitles, mind you. we elected to use those after it became evident that (1) my parents have a feeble grasp on contemporary slang (2) i am easily irritated and (3) i can’t explain half the words anyway. but that’s different than not UNDERSTANDING. i understand the hell out of it. most of it. anyway, out of NOWHERE, one of my favorite characters is killed off, and now i’m furious with HBO. i feel very manipulated and vulnerable —  like they didn’t know what else to do with him so they played the “emotional attachment of the viewer” card and decided to off him. i thought you were above those basic cable/high-budget romantic comedy tactics, hbo. i tearfully peeked ahead at the episode guide and he’s really dead. it’s the SECOND SEASON, do they really need to be such dicks so early? ugh.

and to top everything off, i felt so sorry for myself i refused to go to the gym OR go pick up my credit card, so now i feel lazy and downright stupid, respectively. 

it’s small consolation to know that i will never be THIS stupid.

this isn’t the first time this week i’ve been thoroughly irritated by the entertainment industry. after deciding friday afternoon i was going to devote the weekend to my couch + sweatpants, i left myself to the mercy of cable television. i could either watch the second half of good will hunting, which i had seen/cried to a few weeks ago, or watch hannibal, which i hadn’t seen since it came out in theaters, although i have seen the silence of the lambs twice in the last year or so. at first, i was really pissed off at jodie foster. when you’re approached to reprise an incredible role alongside another amazing actor also in an incredible role, why on earth would you turn it down?! this became clear approximately 45 minutes in, when i realized everything about the movie, save anthony hopkins, sucked like paris hilton in front of a camcorder. 

the silence of the lambs is fantastic — the script, jody, the interview scenes, buffalo bill, the story of the silence of the lambs — it’s harrowing. hannibal finds lecter, ten years later, living a lavish existence in europe. this i can definitely buy. what i can’t buy is some supremely rich, disfigured, bedridden former psychologist trying to find, capture, torture and ultimately kill lecter by way of offering a reward via answering machine at some supposedly undisclosed swiss law office. first of all, hannibal wouldn’t have let this guy live. secondly, this punk supposedly is disfigured because he invites lecter over in the hopes of banging him, gets blitzed, does a popper, breaks a mirror, and starts slicing his face off with a shard of glass as per lecter’s suggestion. there are about ten leaps of faith necessary to accept this scenario, the most substantial being that this guy would cut off his face under the influence of a bottle of wine and a popper. i really hope i missed something along the way, like maybe a pound of shrooms, a few hits of acid and a lobotomy, because there is no way booze + popper = cutting your face off. other things i can’t buy: italians speaking “italian” i.e. english with italian accents. really? julianne moore wasn’t too terrible, but she’s too soft around the edges to pull of clarice starling like jody foster. 

upon further research (i.e. according to wikipedia), both the original screenwriter/adapter and director passed on hannibal, because the book it was based on was ATROCIOUS. and no, i haven’t read it, but i just know. apparently clarice and hannibal end up together in the end, which is so ludicrous i have a hard time typing it. after writing silence of the lambs, thomas harris should have just stopped. i mean, i haven’t read that either, but it must have been at least readable given how good the movie is. this is one of those instances when you quit while you’re ahead, because producing anything further reveals your well-kept secret that you were a lucky moron, and now you’re just a moron. 

on an entirely different note, i’ve been avoiding reading the news for the last few days because it confuses/depresses/upsets me. the more i read about gaza the more confused i am about where i stand (should stand, want to stand) on this issue. when my mom relates what our rabbi said last weekend, i’m incensed by the determination of many jews to support israel no matter what, even in the face of horrible atrocities. but then when i read about synagogue bombings in europe, or even people’s facebook status updates about “israel’s war crimes in gaza,” i feel like israel’s situation is being grossly and unfairly misrepresented. but then facebook fixed everything, because my cousin posted this remarkably even-handed article, and it made me feel a little better, and even instilled some hope that there might actually be an end someday. i think the author should go to D.C., pow-wow with obama, and then they can go to israel together, dream-team style, and let everyone know what’s what. done and done. one week!!

gnocchi = success

i made this for dinner yesterday. the picture isn’t mine, but mine looked just like it. maybe even BETTER.

skillet gnocchi w/ chard & white beans

time: 30 minutes (so 45 for slowpokes like me)

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1 16-ounce package shelf-stable gnocchi (i.e. the kind you buy in the bread/pasta aisle, not frozen)
1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup water
6 cups chopped chard leaves (about 1 small bunch) or spinach 
1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes with Italian seasonings
1 15-ounce can white beans, rinsed
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup shredded part-skim mozzarella cheese
1/4 cup finely shredded Parmesan cheese

1. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add gnocchi and cook, stirring often, until plumped and starting to brown, 5 to 7 minutes. Transfer to a bowl. 
2. Add the remaining 1 teaspoon oil and onion to the pan and cook, stirring, over medium heat, for 2 minutes. Stir in garlic and water. Cover and cook until the onion is soft, 4 to 6 minutes. Add chard (or spinach) and cook, stirring, until starting to wilt, 1 to 2 minutes. Stir in tomatoes, beans and pepper and bring to a simmer. Stir in the gnocchi and sprinkle with mozzarella and Parmesan. Cover and cook until the cheese is melted and the sauce is bubbling, about 3 minutes.

serves 6. 325 calories per serving, 7 g of fat, 14g of protein and lots of vitamin a & c. 

i hate birthdays. especially mine.

i hate my birthday. this is mostly because my birthday is not nearly as important to everyone in my life as i believe it should be. admittedly, this is ridiculous. but it’s true. every year i get so excited about the potential awesomeness of a party celebrating my life, and every year it’s either “eh” or more of a “i hate everyone, i’m going to sit in my room, wallow, and eat the godiva truffles my family mercilessly never fails to give me.” i’ve realized that when it comes to birthdays, you have to make it happen, and then hope your friends are cool/drunk enough to make it fun. unfortunately, said “making it happen” generally involves a substantial amount of money spent on booze or food or cab rides or hotel rooms or what have you (since my existence is apparently not reason enough), and/or an appropriate party space, and i am generally missing one or both of these necessities, and for some unfathomable reason my parents are unwilling (they would say unable AND unwilling) to provide either of them. it is probably because they don’t love me that much.

anyway, i say all this not because i want people to make a big deal of my birthday in 2009 (which i do of course – grand i.e. expensive gestures are encouraged), but rather to tap into what i believe (hope) is a pretty universal birthday selfishness and apply it to the new year’s hype. it’s like new year’s is everyone’s collective birthday – people would rather sleep in the poopfest under my bathroom sink for a week (if you haven’t read earlier entries i will take this moment to note that said poop is from a small rodent or insect) than admit they aren’t doing anything fun for new year’s. that’s probably why people have kids in the first place, so they have a legit excuse to stay home on new year’s. my parents stay in for new year’s every year, so really, they should be extra thankful for me. anyway, new year’s dominates casual conversation for weeks before and after december 31^st/january 1st, and let’s be honest here, even for those of us who really do prefer a quiet, relaxed new year’s eve, by the time january 1 rolls around you are starting to feel pretty defensive about your lack of enviable NYE plans/stories. on NYE 06/07, i was lucky enough to bring one group of high school friends to a nearby party hosted by another group, and therefore got to spend the night with a slew of my favorite people. the following year, i extended my JYA in london to include christmas, and then eliza and holly came over to spend new year’s with me in rome. a night that started out walking around looking for restaurants with open tables and without prix-fixe menus over 90 euros (to no avail – we ended up at a “snack bar” which served room temperature cheese-less pizza and plastic cups of wine) ended happily, i.e. lurching drunkenly around the city with 4 british/irish guys also visiting rome for the holidays. last year was atrocious as i was recovering from having my jaw sawed off and moved (definitely recommended for avfuture NYE laying low excuse), but my friends were nice enough to bring me three different kinds of milkshakes and then sit through once with me while trying not to laugh at my lame attempts at speaking through my banded jaws. this year, i went into the city with to meet up with kelly and her two best friends from brown, and we went to a bar on the LES, where we drank, danced, schmoozed and took about 25 “emotion game” photos, none of which we can match with the scenario. i had other friends in various parts of the city (and country/world for that matter) i would have liked to see, but since i couldn’t throw my own bash and force them all to come, i resigned myself to enjoying the night as an evening like any other, instead of needing to cram a bunch of people into a short period of time as though our friendships depended on it. plus, if i’d peaced out early, i would have missed kelly booting into her scarf 5 minutes into our 20 minute subway ride, and i don’t even want to imagine my night without that delightful memory.

it seems like a really good time to think about the future, because for once, the next year is almost entirely open-ended. theoretically, i can do whatever i want. by theoretically i mean of course, “if money weren’t an issue.” but at the same time, it seems sort of fruitless to come up with new year’s resolutions, because after the first few weeks in January, everyone seems to have forgotten about them. i’ve never heard anyone say mid-way through august: “sorry guys, i absolutely have to go to the gym today, it’s my new year’s resolution!” i think the vast majority of us don’t talk about new year’s resolutions beyond january because we’ve long since broken them. i thought about it (briefly), and initially decided on two new year’s resolutions, one practical and one, i don’t know, emotional: (1) spend less money and (2) be less judgmental. this is all well and good. i definitely need to spend less money, instead of spending nothing for a week, going to the city for a weekend, and consuming myself into oblivion i.e. negating all previous frugality. and it would probably behoove me to be less judgmental in general. but i’m going to be realistic here – i’m not sure how one goes about becoming less judgmental. i mean, i could stop verbalizing the judgmental things i am thinking, but that doesn’t change the fact that i’m thinking them. i could also get mad at myself for thinking these things, but i imagine it wouldn’t be long before i got tired of getting mad at myself all the time. and part of me thinks that might just be futile – i can’t help but think of a priest telling a little kid not only not to masturbate but to feel bad about wanting to masturbate in the first place.  what i mean is… i really like to… judge people. no, what i mean is, judgment comes naturally to me, and i think trying to stop judging people would be like trying to fix a leak by opting to put a bucket under the stream of water as opposed to manning up, going out on the roof, and caulking that shit. or making someone else do it. like my therapist, question mark? 

anyway, i’m canning those new year’s resolutions, because i think the LIFE resolution i’ve come up with instead covers all manner of sins. after thinking about why new year’s is almost always a good time, and why i am almost always emo on my birthday, i’ve decided it’s all about taking responsibility. happily, this philosophy not only works when ascribed to hyped up parties and occasions, but also other life stuff: jobs/career,  friends, family, relationships, whether or not to dick around in another country for a few years, etc. but mostly parties.

i’m going to try real hard from now on to take responsibility for shit. i think i’ve become pretty adept at blaming other people/things/economic and environmental phenomenon than taking responsibility for shit that goes wrong. this doesn’t mean that i’m going to develop a jesus complex , somehow blame the crap economy on myself, or start admitting i’m wrong all the time, because i’m not (wrong. ever.). what i AM going to do, is decide to make the best of  any given situation instead of letting things i can’t help (or even things i can) allow me to rationalize my decision to sit back and do nothing (except complain).

but while i’m shouldering all of this new-found, self-imposed, burdensome responsibility, feel free to make a big fucking deal out of my birthday this year.