Archive for December, 2008

I hate you New Years

Wednesday, December 31st, 2008

Once a year I like to reflect on my hatred of party holidays, i.e. my hatred of New Years. My hatred of New Years is, like my hatred of most things, extremely illogical. That said, I will continue to hate it. This year, I chose to spend my New Years cuddlin’ on the couch with my snuggly warm pup, OMC, a lot of beer, and oh hell yes, Batman Begins.

Other than New Years, my Christmas/holiday break has gone swimmingly. I journeyed to Canada, where I waded in (no joke) four feet of snow and discovered the many wonders of Value Village, where I had the great fortune of finding a really hideous drawing of a horse and her foal (swoon). I sat in front of a wood stove reading back New Yorkers and occasionally glancing over the Ottawa River at Quebec. I had a snowball fight. OMC pushed me into like six feet of snow. I knitted lots of mittens. And some scarves. I learned how to play Guitar Hero, and subsequently learned that I am really bad at it. I read Ian Frazier’s new & hilarious Lamentations of the Father and Tom Perrotta’s Little Children (I know I say that a lot of things break my heart, but seriously, this book did it too).

That’s not all! I randomly discovered this book on my mother’s bookshelf, Ann Patchett’s memoir Truth & Beauty: a friendship, in which Patchett writes touchingly of her eternal best friendship with poet Lucy Grealy, who’d suffered from a devastating form of jaw cancer at the age of nine. It was fantastic, and Patchett’s countless mentions of the writing of Grealy, in particular her own memoir, Autobiography of a face, intrigued me so much I had to hunt Grealy’s work down too. I am most of the way done with Grealy’s memoir, and it is so good, like the kind of book that you have to take with you places and then when you have thirty seconds of sitting in the car somewhere you hurry through a paragraph because you want to read it that much. My understanding of Patchett’s memoir is that her portrayal of Grealy is rather incorrect, but I feel that upon finishing Autobiography I may hopefully be a better judge of that. Also I don’t really want to turn my readings of either of these books into criticisms–as I do seriously want to mostly reflect upon a wonderful, supportive, rare friendship between women.

Anyway, I will get back to scowling at holiday merriment from my Batman tower. Yet to come: my caffeine-fueled look at “2000GREAT.”


Thursday, December 18th, 2008

I take some things really seriously. Like bad celebrity fashion and bookslut reading. These are not things to fuck around with. I take resolutions less seriously, and though this might come as a hit to my self-esteem, well, it’s the truth. I have no will power. The only resolution I have ever, ever kept is my book a week project of 2006. And I succeeded! Upon some careful past reflection, and some serious consideration of the year (1996ish?) I decided to stop eating candy (who the fuck did I think I was??), I have decided a few things.

1.) I cannot give things up. This could potentially make my year terrible. Also I don’t have that many terrible habits to begin with. I don’t smoke, I seldom drink, I am afraid of drugs, I don’t really over-eat. I gossip a lot, but life without gossip is like life without food.

2.) I do have some habits that I could stand to change.

3.) My life would more benefit from ADDING things than taking things away.

4.) I despise fitness goals. HOWEVER. In the interest of adding things to my life, I am considering making my 2009 resolution a yoga-resolution. Right now in my current yoga practice (disclaimer: dork ahead), I am working hard on my inversions. I am already a head-stand all-star. I shoulder-stand like it’s nobody’s business. Backbends, you are my best friend. But my handstand! Oi. The shame.

I could also stand to be a little more diligent about my book blogging, but the glory of a really great handstand so overshadows books. See for yourself (image from


Sandwiches I appreciate

Friday, December 12th, 2008

This morning, OMC thoughtfully packed me a lunch. Included in this lunch is a sandwich that I can only describe as questionable. This is your standard peanut butter sandwich with bananas and marshmallow fluff (during finals weeks, I am about as epicurean as, say, your average 6 year old). HOWEVER: OMC (perhaps hurriedly, I don’t really know, the dog was giving him her patent “give me peanut butter or I will totally dutch oven you tonight” look and I was all “OMG OMC my bus is leaving now) put the sandwich on RYE BREAD. Seriously, ew. Although, it’s totes nice and unexpected that he packed me a lunch, and I really can’t ask that much of the boy culinarily, so I will eat it and be satisfied. Sort of.

This brings me to a subject that I consider with feelings that I can only describe as “epic,” “frantic,” “often,” and “obsessively.” This is, of course, in as much as one can have a feeling that is epic or often, but you get the gist. This subject is: the almighty sandwich. There is nothing better than a sandwich, am I right?

The following is a list of my preferred sandwich combinations:

-The number one, unfuckwithable sandwich (in my humble eyes) is the egg sandwich. My ultimate egg sandwich: egg over easy (many egg sandwich devotees question this and prefer scrambled egg, but to them I say “fuck you”) + hot sauce + goat cheese + some kind of delicious crusty bread with which to sop up the runny eggness/hot sauce. Mornings, you will never be the same.

-Peanut butter + pickles + bread. I know, I know: unusual. But seriously, tasty goodness. I think it’s the salty/sweet thing.

-In the same vein, peanut butter + potato chips (a purist like me might insist on salt and vinegar chips, but to each, his/her own) + bread. The crunchiness is so unexpected! So fun!

-Peanut butter + honey + apple + tortilla. This is what I call the lazy man’s dinner. This is for days when I look in the fridge and think, “Oh. Shit. I haven’t gone grocery shopping in days.” This is for days when I think it’s acceptable to steal a tortilla from my roommate’s unending tortilla supply (thanks Andy!) and hunker down for a cheap and easy treat. Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it.

-The ham salad sandwich. Okay, yea, so, I’m a vegetarian. But my memories of this sandwich are beautiful. This is a gorgeous, delicious (and faintly disgusting) sandwich.

-Radishes + veganaise + swiss cheese (swiss is essential!!!) + tofurkey + toasted bread. This is what I ate every day of my junior year. Whatevskis. Radishes are the shit.

-Fried green tomatoes + veganaise + fake bacon + bread. This is the rich vegan man’s answer to the BLT. This is the sandwich of summer nights, when you are lucky enough to be sitting on my brother’s front porch with a cold beer and a dog by your side. Seriously: make your own fried green tomatoes. You won’t be disappointed.

-Cheddar cheese + honey crisp apples + apple butter + cinnamon raisin bread, all on the panini grill. This one I stole, and amended, from the Quiet Storm. Sometimes walking three blocks for a sandwich is more than one can ask of themselves, and for those times, there is this sandwich.

I have so many more sandwiches in my arsenal of “sandwiches I love.” That said: enlighten me, dear readers. What are your preferred sandwich combos?