My Family

While I have been a complete slug this month, other members of my family have been doing dazzling and brilliant things. First of all, read my sister's blog post on Haiti. She's so smart.

Meanwhile, my father Joe, who is running against Deb Mell (sister in law of Rod Blagoyevich) for state assembly, grabbed a huge endorsement from the IEA this week. Check out his campaign website here. Please support him as a volunteer or contributor!! The primary is coming up and he can use all your support.

What's Up With Me, vol 3

First of all, check out my newest endeavor.

The rest of this post will just read like a Jackie Harvey column because mostly I just continue to play cultural catch-up with the rest of America. For example, we saw Julie and Julia - or is it Julia and Julie? - this weekend. Didn't like it. Didn't even finish it. Meryl Streep was of course blah blah blah awesome blah blah overacting blah blah blah, but the parts with Amy Adams were excruciating. Unless you are paying her by the minute, if you have Meryl Streep on contract, why would you spend even one second of your movie on mousy-squeaking boring ass Julie Powell typing on her computer? I hereby call a moratorium on movies showing blogging. Its barely passable as a hobby; why does anyone think I want to watch someone blog?

I realize that writers and screenwriters are facing this Modern Dilemma whereby technology nows solves all kinds of problems which previously permitted all kinds of dramatic tension in a story. For example, cell phones and Google probably eliminate 68% of all detective stories and 83% of all romantic comedies. So be it. Adapt or die. But showing a woman blogging is not an acceptable adaptation. Its boring. I invite any of you to come over and watch me blog. Except for you, if you are a creepy person who has developed a fetish for watching women blog. You can't come over.

Where was I going with this? Ah, yes. Other cultural fare I have tasted. I read Asterios Polyp. It's good. It's not the greatest graphic novel of all time or anything, but its very beautiful. I don't like when a graphic novel needs to end with a ludicrously cruel twist of fate. Comic artists are the most diehard cynics I've ever known. Rule: If you permit a character in a graphic novel to fall in love, they must die a truly bizarre death or be profoundly unhappy in spite of this gift of a human they can share their lives with. Crumb and Pekar come easily to mind in that last category. I won't say what happens in this book, but I do wish the second to last page had been left out.

Okay, back to my nascent art career.

Bad Feminist?

We watched The Hangover* last night and I about died laughing. This is the kind of movie my kids will know every line of in 10 years. Okay, maybe hopefully more like 15 if I am a good mother. I recall that at the time this movie was released, I heard that it was misogynist and had no strong female characters. Seeing the movie confirmed for me that I am apparently incapable of thinking like a good feminist anymore, because my reaction after watching it was: Of course there were no strong female characters! It was a bachelor party movie! And somehow its misogynistic to show strippers IN VEGAS!?

No one should expect to see strong female characters in bachelor movies, old war movies where women didn't see combat, football movies (but see Any Given Sunday. Or don't.). It would make very little sense for a narrative realism perspective, and they aren't necessary to make a decent movie.

Also kudos to the filmmakers for building a movie around a city's tourism board slogan.

* Actual dialogue in my life:

Mr. Scobie: What are you blogging about?

Me: The Hangover.

Mr. Scobie: You mean the one you had Christmas morning?

Me: No, the movie we watched last night.

Mr. Scobie: You should also blog about the one from Christmas.

This Is A Test

I got a Flip for Christmas, so bear with me while I test whether I can post a video.

Let me know if you can view this. Thanks.

10 Years Ago

The conventional wisdom is good riddance to this decade. In general and historical terms, I am in agreement with that. But this decade has been way more eventful than the one before that, and for that I am glad, largely for the corny and obvious reasons that I am now happily married with two beautiful children.

On the eve of Y2K, Mr. Scobie and his girlfriend, me and my boyfriend, another couple (who were on the verge of breaking up because of his imminent enrollment in treatment for pot addiction - which addiction was not in evidence that weekend, as no drugs that I know of were consumed) and a friend of ours rented a house at Brigantine, New Jersey. Brigantine is just north of Atlantic City, and I have no idea why we decided to go there. It had to do with the coming Rapture. I think we figured that if the shit went down, we probably wouldn't notice in a place like Brigantine. Which would have been true, if the shit had gone down. As you know, it didn't. I wish I could say that Mr. Scobie and I realized at that point that we were with the wrong people, but that didn't happen for another year. The whole weekend was, at the request of another attendee, a "PG weekend", so I don't have much else to report.

My mom, for her part, spent New Year's Eve that year hosting friends from the commune where she'd lived from 1971 until 1973. That "community" was millenarian, and among the numerous reasons my parents left was my mother's fatigue of waiting for the End of The World. Anyway, to finally have The End upon them, my mother and her friends mostly found hilarity in the whole situation. The visiting couple's daughter, who had renamed herself Rainbow, was now herself a part of a apocalyptic community. She and her husband had stockpiled food and made their own mattress out of hay (to absorb nuclear radiation). Her mother memorably said, "I've lived through that. Now, when the end comes, I want to be one of the looters."

That doesn't exactly exhaust my memory of this night 10 years ago, but it comes close. Me and the D posse gotta roll to our NYE party. Have a great New Year!

New Year's Resolutions 2010

A fun trip to Ano Nuevo state park to see the elephant seals today inspired me to do my New Year's resolutions a little in advance of the day itself.

But first, let's review my 2009 resolutions:

1. Get a job;

Check. Started my new job March 18, 2009.

2. Be more patient, and less angry, with my children.

This was too amorphous. I can't tell whether I was more patient and less angry with my kids than I was in 2008. Since I don't hit my kids, and DCFS doesn't check in, I don't have any metrics for this goal. This leads me to create a new New Year's resolution rule: There has to be something quantifiable being achieved. I.e. there must be a metric. Mr. Scobie is good about this. His resolutions are all "read 2 books a month, see 2 movies a month," etc., etc.

3. Less beer, more red wine.

Again, who knows. My calorie theory was quickly debunked by my MIL, who pointed out that a typical glass of wine has 6-7 ounces in it, not 3 or 4. And I just like beer.

In case you are curious, here are my 2008 resolutions, and how I did in 2008. And how I did in 2007.

Okay, now enough with the walk down memory lane. Here we go:

1. Run the Oakland half-marathon March 28, 2010. In fact, I already registered. I can run about 5 miles now, at a pace of about 9:45, so I think it's doable.

2. Read one new book a month. "New" means that I haven't read it before, not that it is newly published.

3. One "date" each month with each guy in this house. So one date with my husband, and one activity alone with each of the kids.

4. 100% of LMP employees in Unit Based Teams, 75% of UBTs are high-performing teams by the end of 2010.

5. Work "slap in the face" into my vernacular.

What are yours?

More Ten Word Restaurant Reviews

My last post misses the mark in two respects. My friend actually asked for some vegetarian options, and wanted a neighborhood where there might be some shops open late. This being Oakland, its hard to tell whether you can find a store open late, since even the restaurants close at 10. And me being a carnivore, I am not a good one to go to for vegetarian options. So I thought I would do a few more reviews in shop-y districts, which are also likely to have decent menus that include vegetarian options.

Rockridge (from yesterday's post: Oliveto, Filippos):

Uzon: only get take-out, good sushi, cute space, agree with Anonymous

Rikyu: more good sushi, expensive but tastier. Boringest location in all Rockridge?

Garibaldi's: Where your parents might eat if they were rich here.

Pasta Pomodoro: Like its siblings, big pasta plates, outdoor seating, does job.

Crepevine: Hard to get behind crepes, big lunch menu, good lemonade

Ben 'n Nicks: Every Saturday, kid-filled bar, love the nachos and beer.

Cactus: Allegedly Chez Panisse spin-off, delicious Mexican, no table service. Great.

Khana Peena: Wierd dome, great tikka masala, cost too expensive for Indian.

Currylicious: Bad name, hard to find, really fresh, tasty, they deliver.

Okay, that covers all the places that I have eaten at between Rockridge BART and the intersection of College and Broadway. Many many shops in that stretch too, if shopping is your bag.

As an aside, I fully endorse Anonymous (actually, its just Pat) on Barlata and Dopo. Dopo and Cesar are located on Piedmont Ave, another shop-filled neighborhood. Barlata is in Temescal, near Pizzaiolo.

Barlata: good tapas, house wine in a small carafe, totally awesome.

Dopo: nice owner, great Italian food. Again with the small portions?

Dona Tomas, Temescal: High-end Mexican by Flora owners, where Pizzaiolo rejects eat.

Ten Word Reviews

I got an email from an old friend today asking that I blog more. November sort of wore me out on the blogging front, but I thought I would give it a try. The other thing she asked for was some restaurant recommendations for Oakland. So I thought I would do some 10 word restaurant reviews:

Oliveto, Rockridge: Lighter fare downstairs, and less likely that a pig died.

Camino, Grand Ave: Long tables, slow service, no off-season limes. Good food.

Flora, Telegraph/17th: Art deco bar, yummy lunch, political Oakland "celebrities", get reservations.

Filippo's, Rockridge: Take kids every Friday, cheap meal, would like bigger portions.

Luka's, Grand/B'way: Great beer, fries, pool table. Remember the Hofbrau? Luka's better.

Franklin Square, Franklin/B'way: Only had lunch, downtown Oakland has a 'scene'. Pretty good.

Pizzaiolo, Temescal: Delicious fried chicken, egg on your pizza. Can't go wrong.

What Is My Problem?

I find it almost impossible to sit still in long meetings. Is this normal? I feel like a child.

More Family

Once again, my cousins are blasting past me with their bad-ass talent. While Rachael may be only rapping her winter dance invites, my cousin Zoe is tearing it up at the Yerba Buena Arts Center's Left Coast Leaning Festival on Thursday night. (I don't actually know if Zoe "tears it up"; based on what I've seen of her work, I don't think that's totally accurate. If you want to see what I mean, google her on YouTube, or "YouTube her" at zoe | juniper). Meantime, her sister Kate has artwork showing in PARIS! Paris, people, is in FRANCE! I have nothing in France! Nothing!

I need to go quell my inadequacies.

Brussel Sprout success

Thanks to Ella for this brussel sprout recipe. I tossed some pancetta in for good measure, but even without it, this recipe rocks. Also, you don't have to shred the sprouts. I ran out of time and just quartered them. Also, I didn't use a half pound of shallots, either. I used one and a half shallots.

In other words, I made a different dish based on this dish, which was excellent. I credit the original recipe and Ella for that success.

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I have so many things to be thankful for that I won't enumerate them all, but thanks for coming to read my blog!

Nothing to report

But I have posted over at Fungus Everything. It's mushroom season, people.

Housekeeping

This blogging every day thing having been wildly unsuccessful, I will still try to prop it up with some not interesting posts, before giving up almost entirely.

What's in my head? That song that goes, "oooo, your body girl, makes the fellows go, oooo" rinse, repeat. It's driving me insane. I don't even know where it's from.

I need to find a good brussel sprout recipe for Thanksgiving.

T & A Lady has some great questions about the mammogram debate that I'd like to validate. First of all, kudos, all the right questions. I don't have all the answers but the problem with mammograms is something like this: 4 out of 1000 women under the age of 50 who are NOT screened will get breast cancer. 3 out of 1000 women under the age of 50 who ARE tested will be found to have breast cancer. That is statistically insignificant, and may cause to unnecessary further testing and procedures, which have non-negligible costs to the healthcare system. The cervical cancer screening debate (whether to get a PAP smear before age 21) is actually more troublesome, because in addition to the statistical insignificance of early detection, women who undergo an unnecessary procedure to remove benign tumors which may be found in screening (and which would otherwise go away on their own) may result in fertility problems. So now the unnecessary screening has created a health risk. I got all this from a New York Times article I read last week but which I am too lazy at this moment to hunt down.

But the whole debate points up something I find even more irritating and troubling and which I run into more frequently now that I work more closely with health care, and that is a lack of interest in, or understanding of, evidence-based medicine. Doctors have lobbied so hard to be taken seriously over the past 1.5 centuries, that we mistake them for scientists. And while many of them are, the practice of medicine is remarkably driven by intuition, litigation-avoidance and guesswork. Maybe most doctors in the fee-for-service model don't have time or access to peer reviewed data (not paid for by Big Pharma) and statistics that could help shape care. The particulars of this are interesting (to me) but the bigger point I wanted to make is the failure to view health care through this lens is one of many problems with the healthcare reform debate. Just irritating scaremongering.

We are here for Thanksgiving, hopefully doing lots of hiking, eating, running, movie viewing and trying to not get on eachother's nerves. Have a great holiday weekend.

Rogues' Gallery

Do You Ever Do This?

Sometimes when I am really bored, I employ one of two mind games to distract me. Both involve looking at people and imagining things about them, and both result in me getting completely creeped out. In one mind exercise, I look at people and imagine that they are on drugs. In the other mind exercise, I look at people and imagine that they are the opposite gender than the one they obviously present. Specifically, I look at men and imagine that they are women, and look at women, imagining them to be men. This largely results in me thinking, "That is a really pretty man" or "That woman is super masculine". In the other exercise, I just get creeped out/impressed by how many zombie-junkies there are that manage to get through the grocery store without freaking out.

The problem with this active imagination stuff is that it can be hard to stop doing once you start. Also, when you blog about it, your friends think you are really wierd.

Miscellany

I don't recommend this to my mother or mother-in-law. Wire fans, have at it.



This, on the other hand, should be right up the grandmothers' alley:



This was the hairstyle he had to have.

The Last Generation

I'm not given to wistful, generational hairsplitting, but after that Veterans' Day post, I've been trying to think of other things particular to "my generation" (in my mind, that means people born in 1974). Aside from not serving in armed conflict, what else is particular to us?

We are the last generation to follow the Grateful Dead. And there are probably precious few younger than us that religiously followed a jam band.* I never followed the GD or a jam band, and in fact openly ridiculed others who did, but still, at least it stopped with us.

We are the last generation to be born without a computer keyboard at our fingertips and the first generation to know what to do with one if we see it.

Okay, that's as far as I can get. Can you think of any others?

* For more on my views about jam bands, read this post.

The Things You Do For Love

Some time before college, probably around Christmas 1991, but possibly a year or two later, I got a pair of red plaid flannel pajama pants from my stepfather. These pants were very cozy, but so ugly that they were probably a contributing factor in why Mr. Scobie did not ever bust a move despite being my roommate for three years of our early adulthood. This summer, I finally threw them away, after many false starts (I actually rescued them from the trash and the fabric-for-quilts pile more than once). I got rid of them because they ripped, although that wasn't the deciding factor. I think I finally realized that I wanted Mr. Scobie to stick around longer than the pants, and was tired of hearing him ask that they be thrown away.

Well, Regret, thy name is the red plaid flannel pajama bottoms, because it is freakin' cold up in here.

My 801st Blog Post

Last night, I swear I was gonna blog but I fell asleep at 9:30. I should have done it when I got up at 4:40 am. I can't believe I am still awake right now.

A few months ago, I reported that I was starting a "boot camp" exercise class and that I would update you about that. I haven't - not because I haven't gone, but because I've taken it seriously enough that I don't have anything wry or facetious to say about it. In fact, I had boot camp tonight and it kicked my ass.

Probably not as much as real boot camp would kick my ass though. Reflecting on Veterans' Day today, I struggled to name even a handful of my friends and peers who have served in the military. Mine must be the first generation in history to claim that. We might be the last generation to claim it, too, given the number of people younger than I am who have enlisted and served during two wars in the past 8 years.

Part of me wants to go on a ramble here about Ehrenreich's Blood Rites (a really good book). But in honor of Veterans' Day, I'll just leave it at this. I am grateful to the men and women who serve in the military so that the rest of us don't have to, and for their sacrifices, which I doubt I can match off the battle field in any way.

Forget What I Said About Politics Fatigue

So there's one political race that has me interested these days, and not just for personal reasons. My father's race for Illinois state assembly became unexpectedly exciting today (well, at least to the incumbent). Turns out the incumbent might not have minded her Ps & Qs when she filed her election petition a few weeks ago. One of the funnier things about that link is that "blagojavich" is right there in the url. Even at its most technical and off-hand, the Sun-Times, and most other people, link Deb Mell to her more famous brother-in-law. That was Joe's first suspicion that she might be vulnerable. Being too careless to register to vote may turn out to be the bigger reason she goes home at the end of her term, though.