happyrobot

Hello Big Gas Man!

- link: Big Gas Savings - YouTube

- posted: rich - 5/23/2013 10:58:03 AM
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Funny Ha Ha Vines

This is a colossal time waste. Fun Vine videos.
Some funnier than others.
- link: Best Vines (TheFunnyVines) on Twitter

- posted: rich - 5/23/2013 6:49:31 AM
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The Warriors Never Set Foot in the Bronx (Part 2)

This is great.
- link: The New York City Filming Locations of The Warriors �" Part 2 - Scouting NY

- posted: rich - 5/23/2013 6:18:13 AM
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The Warriors Never Set Foot in the Bronx (Part 1)

This might come as a surprise, seeing as how the movie revolves around a New York City gang trying to make their way from the Bronx's Van Cortlandt Park to Brooklyn's Coney Island, but filming only took place in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens
- link: The New York City Filming Locations of The Warriors - Part 1 - Scouting NY

- posted: rich - 5/23/2013 6:08:18 AM
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Robot Journal: Boise vs Omaha vs Portland

Boise vs Omaha vs Portland
This has been a tough first half of the year. Lots of travel.
Apart from Hawaii, the last three weeks have been Omaha, Portland, and now Montana and Wyoming.
I'm in Boise right now (AKA "The City of Trees") sitting at the airport awaiting my ride.

When I first started this new job, one of my first major trips was out here. We did Utah, Montana, and Idaho in a week. It was brutal. You may recall this story, but it started out pretty badly as I got to the gate for my plane and realized that I had left my computer at the security checkpoint. There was running and sweating involved and it was a pretty miserable first day.
Now, I'm here again and this morning I had all sorts of anxiety. Making sure I wasn't leaving my computer. Or phone. Or wallet. Or luggage. I'm still a little post-anxious buzzy.

Omaha
This is what I knew about Nebraska and specifically Omaha: Nebraska lost to Clemson University in NCAA football in 1981. My friend George spent the night and we watched the game and afterward we went out in the front yard and cheered (as we were Clemson fans) and my dad was like, "get back in here young man".
Omaha was nice. Lovely people. I saw Warren Buffet's house and had many nice meals. On the flight to Omaha I looked it up on Wikipedia and I remember the following facts:
- The Enola Gay was built there
- The "Top 40" format was created there
- TV dinners were created there
- The bobby pin was invented there
- Those instant cake things that you can buy (with the paper knife) were created there.

Portland
I'd been to Portland before and had also watched two seasons of Portlandia, so I’m basically an expert.
What a nice town that is. We had dinner at Pok Pok, the crazy popular Thai street food joint. Do you like fermented things? Fish sauce? I realize people do. I'm not a big fan, so I found a few too many of the dishes to be "challenging". Sorry. Apparently I'm an idiot. But there was one dish I really liked. Duck was involved. There were also wings.
I did get to see lots of nice neighborhoods and areas I hadn't seen before. Drinking my morning coffee at Stumptown while they played REM's Murmur was nice. Oh, and flying into Portland is awesome. What views you have of those mountains.

Idaho
That's where I'm now (contrary to my "Montana!" facebook update when I forgot which Mountain state I was in). When I started this entry I was at the airport. Now, it's basically 24 hours later. We're in Ketchum, Idaho. Today we drove from Boise to Ketchum which was about two hours? I forget. I drove because my esteemed colleague traveling with me had a conference call, so he did that while I drove. Huge expanses. Mountains. Antelopes. Scenery.
Then I look at the speedometer and I'm going 95mph*.

* If you're the Idaho Highway Patrol, when I say "95mph" I of course mean "within the normal speed limits of your very nice highways"

We had a nice wine tasting in Ketchum. It's a really pretty little town. It's basically a ski town and is home to the first ski resort in the USA (a fact I haven't confirmed but the locals seem pretty confident about that). Tonight we had dinner with a bunch of people. I had a buffalo burger (tasty) and played this odd shuffleboard thing that had sand on the table and you slid things.

Remind me to tell you the story about the guy who was mayor here. Who sat across from me at dinner.

The sun set. I'm in a strangely good mood.

How's it where you are?

(my brother made this little song. he lives in a town called Cumming.)

The Guide to English Soccer Matches

nothing on television can provide adequate preparation for the startling, exhilarating, bewildering, exhausting experience that is a live English professional soccer match. (First lesson: Pick a side). With the most recent season just finished, here is a primer on what to expect should you find yourself at an actual game.
Great article! Read!
- link: Game Hunting in England's Premier League - NYTimes.com

- posted: rich - 5/22/2013 9:32:33 AM
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Make Your Palm Oil Free Nutella

Guess what! Boycotting palm oil just got easier! This is a wonderful recipe for homemade, palm oil free Nutella!
Yay.
- link: Make Your Own Palm Oil Free Nutella! | jungleheroes

- posted: rich - 5/22/2013 7:21:19 AM
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Nutella: Your damn palm oil

In addition to being a health risk, the industrial use of palm oil has led to widespread deforestation in Borneo, Sumatra and Indonesia, displacing and killing endangered populations of orangutans.
And other animals.
But, I'm just pissed that I can't buy Nutella anymore because I also think orangutans are neat.
- link: France proposes 'Nutella tax' on palm oil - NY Daily News

- posted: rich - 5/22/2013 7:19:31 AM
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McDonald's Portraits

- link: McDonald's Serves Up a Feast of Characters for Fast-Food Photog | Raw File | Wired.com

- posted: rich - 5/22/2013 6:19:17 AM
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Sunshine Jen: Dear Jen

Dear Jen,

I see you there in your dorm room on your 21st birthday. I see you struggling to finish that screenplay for screenwriting class. I see you saying that you'll drink legally some other time when your screenplay is done. I see you, serious driven you, and I think you're awesome. I have some other things to tell you too.

It's okay, Jen, it will all be okay.

Okay, some of it will suck, but that's okay. You will still be standing at 42. I know. I'm you at 42 writing this on my 42nd birthday. We're not much different except I have a few more grey hairs, some tiny scars, and I finally got the wisdom teeth out. You won't get over your dental fear by the way, but when you finally get the teeth out, it will not be as painful as you imagined.

I could tell you not to do something or to do something, but I know your stubborn self all too well. You won't listen. I'll tell you not to buy that green dress, but you'll be in the store and think, oh she couldn't have meant this green dress, it's so cute. Don't buy it, Jen. You'll never wear it. Or buy it and stare at it in your closet for a decade because you can't throw it out because it's so cute.

Here's another bit of advice which I'm sure you won't listen to. Don't dye your hair red. I know you love dying it blonde. Just stay away from red. You don't look good as a red head.

You will be friends at 42 with some of the people you are friends with now. Yeah, cool right? As for your love life, you will meet some great guys and some jerkuses. I won't name names. I don't want to spoil the fun.

I'm sorry to tell you this, but I think you kind of know it already. You will not be the next Steven Spielberg. One Spielberg is enough. I know you've had the Spielberg dream since you were eleven, but you're gonna see other films and have new dreams. Instead of the next Spielberg, you'll be the next Jen or the first Jen or some Jen. You loved writing that screenplay on your 21st birthday, didn't you? You really loved writing it. You will write more stuff. You will write stuff you didn't know you could write. You can do it, Jen, you can write the shit out of whatever you set your mind to.

And you will travel. You will go to Paris. You will go to places you haven't even dreamed of yet. You know how you like to walk from Washington Square all the way up to Harlem? Well Jen, you will walk a long long way, and you will keep walking.

Sometimes you will have to walk away from something. Sometimes you will have to stand and fight. You will become a better fighter. You will learn to hold the center of the ring. The boxing metaphor will make sense in ten years.

Remember in the first grade when the nun said you had a bad temper? Well Jen, you do have a bad temper, and I'm gonna tell ya, you can't let it fester inside you. There will be times when you will want to get mad. Let yourself get mad. You're allowed to be mad. When you're mad, you don't have to yell, scream, or throw a temper tantrum. But let yourself be mad even if you're only mad for a second.

I will also tell you to trust the love. I'm not talking about that cute guy you have a crush on. I'm talking about the love you have in you that can manifest itself in ways you haven't discovered yet.

There will be some bad times. There will be times when things seem terribly unfair. There will be times when you will fuck up---not in a bad someone getting killed or ending up in jail way. Don't let the fuck ups fester in you. Be gracious, be kind, keep going.

Don't stress out about your smoking habit. You will quit smoking. You will find something else (I won't say what that something else is, but it's really cool), and you won't need the smokes anymore.

There will be new Star Wars movies, and they will suck. I know, you'll have to see them because they're Star Wars. Just know, they will suck. But the Lord of the Rings movies will be cool.

I'm not gonna tell you if your beloved Cleveland Indians win the World Series or not. I think you have to experience that without knowing the outcome.

Remember in baseball, if a batter is hitting .300, he's only hitting the ball three out of ten times. You won't bat a thousand in the next twenty-one years, but the hits you get will be excellent.

Sincerely,

Your 42 year old self.

Almost Extinct Kitehs :(

The following species are either currently listed as endangered or vulnerable. We hope that by learning about these amazing relatives of our well-loved domestic cats, readers will be encouraged to act to protect these species.
- link: Cats are going extinct: 12 most endangered feline species : TreeHugger

- posted: rich - 5/21/2013 11:14:34 AM
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Doggie!

- link: Oklahoma Tornado Survivor Finds Missing Dog During Live Interview

- posted: rich - 5/21/2013 9:16:18 AM
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ZeFrank's Sad Cat Diary

- link: Sad Cat Diary - YouTube

- posted: rich - 5/21/2013 7:06:42 AM
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Arrested Development: Trailer

Yay!
- link: lonelysandwich: First Trailer of Arrested Development

- posted: rich - 5/21/2013 6:26:39 AM
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#FitchtheHomeless Backfires

Here's what homeless men and women really think of #FitchtheHomeless-in their own words.
- link: Why #FitchtheHomeless Backfires | RELEVANT Magazine

- posted: rich - 5/21/2013 6:17:11 AM
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The Tornado's Wake

Sad.
- link: Slide Show: Oklahoma in the Tornado's Wake : The New Yorker

- posted: rich - 5/21/2013 6:12:15 AM
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The giggling, fruit-flavoured, mincing, ice-covered heap of mother love

Liberace sued the Daily Mirror newspaper in England in 1959 for a venomous article that called him a "giggling, fruit-flavoured, mincing, ice-covered heap of mother love."
- link: A Millennial's Guide to Liberace - The Daily Beast

- posted: rich - 5/21/2013 5:54:25 AM
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Remember GeoCities?

- link: How to screw up Tumblr - Salon.com

- posted: rich - 5/20/2013 2:09:20 PM
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How Monster Lost the World

But Dr. Dre didn't just hatch the flashy lineup from his freight train chest: The venture began as an unlikely partnership between a record-industry powerhouse and a boutique audio company best known for making overpriced HDMI cables.
- link: Beat By Dre: The Exclusive Inside Story of How Monster Lost the World

- posted: rich - 5/20/2013 10:08:48 AM
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Tokyo and the Hipster Trinity

Could one writer keep up with a real-life Wolf Pack-comic star Aziz Ansari, top chef David Chang, and LCD Soundsystem's James Murphy-as the hipster trinity partied through Tokyo, arguably the food capital of the world?
- link: Aziz Ansari, James Murphy, and David Chang's Trip to Tokyo | GQ December 2011: Celebrities: GQ

- posted: rich - 5/20/2013 7:35:28 AM
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Science Is Mostly Atheists Making Things Up

Creationists have no difficulty with similarities and differences between organisms. God designed each organism for a particular purpose.
- link: Sundays With The Christianists: A Biology Textbook That Explains Science Is Mostly Atheists Making Things Up

- posted: rich - 5/20/2013 7:30:12 AM
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Every recurring Arrested Development joke

Please review.
- link: Previously, On Arrested Development : NPR

- posted: rich - 5/17/2013 9:01:43 PM
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Sunshine Jen: Helicopters

The helicopters came at 8 am yesterday during my quiet reading time. The helicopters circled and went up and came down and went up and circled. My quiet reading time was shot to hell.

Damn it! I thought. How hard is it for a girl to think in this crazy town?

An hour later, the helicopters were still circling. An hour after that, the helicopters were still there.

I went to yoga, but I couldn't get into it. My shoulders tensed to my ears. The instructor played stupid folkie alternative crap music.

And still the helicopters kept circling. Hell is sunny and bright Los Angeles with helicopters circling.

I went to my favorite coffee shop, and. . . .

Things got better.

I asked Happy the barista if she knew anything about the helicopters.

It was like a bomb scare. She said.

Was it like a bomb scare or an actual bomb scare? I asked. When bombs are involved and helicopters are circling, I like to be definite.

Actual. There was some loner guy with a thing for explosives, but it's okay, they caught him.

All that noise, it would be really embarrassing if they hadn't. But I had another thought to say to Happy.

Darn it, it's loners like him that give loners a bad rap. Not all of us are into explosives. Some of us just want to read literature.

And Happy and I had a good laugh. She made me an excellent cup of tea and toasted bagel.

Even though the helicopters continued to circle, I felt better. I later learned the full story. Apparently, the cops pulled over some dude and found a pipe bomb in his car. They then searched his apartment and found more bombs and explosive devices. Apparently, they were all safely detonated. All of this was about a quarter mile from Sunshine Jen Central.

I guess I should be freaked out, but I'm actually not. In May 2013 this is the world I'm living in.

For the record, the book I was reading when the helicopters came: Best European Fiction 2011. I had made it to the I-countries.

Sunshine Jen: Orange County Camino

On Saturday, I did a twelve mile walk down in Orange County with Southern California Chapter of the American Friends of the Camino. Gosh that's a long name. Their web page is here.

Now Gentle Reader, you might be thinking: wait Jen, I thought you hated walking groups. Last week, you totally riffed on a walking group you came upon in Malibu.

Yes, Gentle Reader, I am human and allowed to be self-contradictory. Besides, this group was a group of folks who had either walked the Camino in Spain or were thinking of walking the Camino in Spain. One of my favorite things to do is talk about the Camino, so I wanted to go and hang with folks who thought walking over 500 miles was a cool thing to do.

Besides, I got to tramp around the OC which is a vast suburban jungle between Los Angeles and San Diego to me. I have driven through parts of the OC without stopping. What would it be like to stop and walk around? What was there to see in the OC?

So Saturday morning, I amtraked down to San Juan Capistrano to meet the group. I sat on the morning train with a Cub Scout troop and watched the houses go by as I ate a muffin. I didn't have to worry about traffic or directions or parking. I was hoping for a chill-out twelve miles.

I met the rest of the group at the Mission at San Juan Capistrano. The Mission was right next to the train station, so it was easy to find. It was also Mariachi day at the Mission, so musicians in bright costumes were walking by.

We took half the cars over to a church called Santiago de Compostela, a Catholic Church in Lake Forrest where we started our walk. There was a funeral happening, so we didn't go into the church and congregated quietly outside on the patio next to a fountain with a Galician cross.

After taking the all important pictures, we started walking. The weather was sunny and warm with a nice ocean breeze hitting us. We walked mostly on sidewalks baking in the So Cal sun. I tried to walk on tree lawns whenever I could, and we got the occasional trail.

Our first rest stop was an Albertsons Supermarket. As I looked at the big beige building and the big cars in the lot, I realized I was a long way from Spain. Oh America, you are just so big. Please don't hit me with your great big cars.

As we walked, I got to talk with other folks in the group. I would walk and talk with someone, then I'd walk and talk with someone else. I shared memories and stories with folks who had done the Camino. I heard about preparations from folks who were planning their Camino. In all this walking and talking, I felt a little like I was back on the Camino again (only I didn't have my big red pack), and that was a very good feeling. Who would've thought I'd feel that way in Orange County?

When we arrived back in San Juan Capistrano, everyone in the group of nineteen had walked the whole way, and no one was complaining. Some folks walked fast. Some folks walked slow. Some folks hadn't been sure that they could walk twelve miles. Everyone made it. Yay Team!

A group of us went to a local restaurant for a late lunch/early dinner; then I had to catch my train back to LA. As I sat back in my seat, I realized that I was kind of tired and took a nap all the way to LA. There was a bike racing team on the train back, so I wasn't the only sweaty person on Amtrak.

On the Orange County Camino, I got to chatting with Rosie who has a great blog. She also wrote about the Orange County walk. You can check out her blog here.

Robot Journal: Aloha Kauai! We return to Hawaii. Ribs are eaten.

“Kauaʻi or Kauai, it is the fourth largest of the main islands in the Hawaiian archipelago, and the 21st largest island in the United States”

True Fact!
My brain did not want to spell “Kauai” correctly and only around the last day did it willingly do it.

“We got a place”
Back in January or so, our pal (we’ll call him “Matt (A)”) calls us to say the following:
- “I have a major birthday coming up”
- “I’m going to Hawaii with my family”
- “I’m renting a big house”
- “Do you want to come along?”

The answer to that last question was “Yes” - especially after we looked at how strangely affordable the prices for airfare were. Hawaii here we come!

Here’s what we did for the past week
We swam in the ocean and paddle boarded and walked on the sand and sabered bottles of Champagne and rode horses and jumped off rocks and went to bed very early and woke up very early and ate well and laughed and some people cried and some people ran around without clothes on all the time (but, they were 2 years old).

Birthday Dinner
To celebrate the BIG birthday of our pal, last Wednesday we all donned white and opened bottles of champagne (with knives) and ate ribs. You may be asking, “Wait! You all ate ribs while wearing all white?!?”
Yes. That’s how we rolled.
No messes amazingly.

Logistics
You can fly directly to Kauai, which surprised me as I assumed you had to connect in Honolulu. On the flight out, it was fine. We left very early from JFK and landed at LAX and then out to Kauai - about ten hours in the air.

Because of a scheduling snafu with the house we were renting, everyone stayed in a hotel the first night. We stayed at Marriott's Kaua'i Beach Club in the town of Lihue (pronounced entertainingly as “La-who-we”). The night of arrival we had dinner at Sushi Katsu located in the lobby of the Tip Top Motel. Quirky and lo-fi and BYOB and awesome. Sushi is our go-to jet-lag just-arrived comfort food.
The Marriott resort place was fine. The room was pretty non-descript (and short) but they had a nice beach and a suspiciously delicious brunch the next day (via jet lag, we were one of the first people there). The pool was about the size of lower Manhattan.

After our night in Lihue (LA WHO WEE!) we drove up the west coast and tried to view the amazing Waimea Canyon.
“Waimea Canyon, also known as the Grand Canyon of the Pacific, is a large canyon, approximately ten miles long and up to 3,000 feet deep, located on the western side of Kauai”

Oh, did I mention that Kauai is the rainiest place in the universe? No? We totally got poured on and saw some beautiful... clouds. That was about it. D’oh!

Hanalei!
After getting rained on and then stopping for tacos, a case of wine, and some rum (and rum cake!) we made our way back around the island and up to the north side to the town of Hanalei where the rental house was. Hanalei is a small town that sits on Hanalei Bay - this is where we swam a lot.
It was lovely. From our house we had a great view of the neighboring mountains and we were steps away from the beach (as long as “steps” means “crossing the street”).

We had 8 adults and one small adult in the house (big house with separate apartment downstairs) and it worked out well. Someone suggested that each couple take one night to cook dinner which was a really clever and practical idea. On our night, we put together our favorite ‘super food’ salad of kale and avocado and these addictive rosemary and olive oil flavored macadamia nuts alongside my favorite chunky-style gazpacho accompanied by shrimp. It somehow worked out excellently.

Things we did
Queen’s Bath: This is a pool in a lava shelf. Fun to swim in. I jumped off a rock. Tons of turtles (massive turtles) swimming in the surf outside of it.

The Kalalau Trail: “11 mile trail that leads from Ke'e Beach to Kalalau Beach.” Depeding on the weather, this is a fun little hike or a pain-in-the-butt hike. We had a bit of both as the weather changed from ‘nice’ to ‘really hot’ to ‘pouring rain’ within a few hours. Great views!

Farmers Market: There are a number of farmers markets and since we needed to buy lots of food, this was handy. We met a woman who sold her garlic and tumeric to a local organic shop here in Brooklyn. Small world.

Anini Beach: Great beach that is protected by reefs and is almost completely still and flat. Great if you have small children around.

The Waiakalua Beaches: Very pretty beaches. Stunning. You don’t want to go swimming there, at least the day we were there. The waves and tides are crazy rough. Oh, and it was super hot.

Hanalei Bay: We swam and paddle-boarded here. For the majority of the time, it was awesome. They had a sand bar fairly far out, so there was this big expanse of area to swim in. The waters were clear and the ocean would send these sets of awesome waves to body surf from time to time.
Then on the last day, it went all loco and the rip currents showed up. Get out.

Horseback Riding: We went horseback riding one day at a local ranch. Apart from the fact that I think my horse didn’t like me, it was a fun hour or so.

The Na Pali Coast Boat Tours: Mrs. Robot and I didn’t do this boat tour but other people in our group did. In hindsight, maybe we should have tagged along as it looked amazing.

Sunshine Jen: The Group Hike

While I was walking uphill on my usual Saturday hike, I encountered a large group of hikers walking downhill. There were around a dozen walkers, and I stood patiently by the side of the path to let the caravan pass.

Before I talk more about the group, I should say that if signing up for a group hike encourages you to go out into the woods, go for it. I totally understand that some folks need the social motivation to go out and tramp around nature for a few hours. Some folks like hiking with groups. I personally like to just go, walk for a few hours, clear my head.

Still this group was so amusing that they cried out to be blogged about. Blog about us! Blog about us! They seemed to collectively shout. Usually, when I've encountered big groups on trails, there's one or two divas and the rest have their head down as they wonder when it will be over.

So on Saturday, I stood to the side and said hello to folks as they came down past me. I'm a big fan of saying hello. It opens up the communication and shows that I'm not completely anti-social. I've noticed that on some trails in the LA area folks don't want to say hello. In fact, they don't want to make eye contact as if they're afraid I'll carjack them. Whatever. Move on.

Because the hiking group was a cheerful social Saturday morning group that had probably only walked about a mile and a half, many said hello back.

You have a lot of uphill to go. One lady clad all in REI gear told me.

Thanks. I said then I thought about what she had said.

Why was she telling me that? Of course I have a lot of uphill to go. In fact, I do that trail for the uphill which I was doing at a very nice pace until I had to stop for the freight train of hikers. Such a statement was not only redundant and obvious, but it does not help my situation which wasn't really a situation but now my head was turning it into one. All I had said was hello.

Then a guy strumming some pop song on a guitar walked by. Really? He was feeling it. The nature. The sunshine. The music. Seriously?

All my tears have been used up
On another love. . . .

Ladies and Gentlemen, the reason I do not group hike.

I continued to hello the people who passed and wondered out loud who was gonna shoot the guitar player. One guy turned back to me and pointed to himself. I felt bad for that guy, but then I realized that if he was truly miserable, he could just leave the group.

More hikers passed. One couple (a man and woman) were having a serious discussion.

It makes me depressed. The woman said.

Don't be depressed. I said as they passed. The woman looked at me with uncertainty but kept walking.

Finally, the last stragglers took up the rear. They were the folks who liked to go slow on the downhill. I understand that mentality. I like to go slow on the downhill too. It's a hike not a race. It's okay. It's all okay.

When I finally had a human-free trail in front of me, I started going again. A few yards on, I encountered a lone person standing and taking in the view. I wondered if he had once been part of the group hike and had decided to ditch it. Was he gonna go his own way? I said hello. He said hello. Then I continued on.

At my first rest stop, I sat in the shade and ate a tangerine. I hoped the group hike was having a good time going to wherever they were going. I didn't rest long. I had to go to a play reading later in the day, and I had a few miles to walk before then.

Sunshine Jen: My Trip to Costco

For my birthday, my mother sent me a $25 gift card from Costco and some tea (I like tea). I thanked her profusely, and she told me how much she loved Costco. My mother is a Shopper. Capitalism was invented for her. A retail environment is her habitat. She is a top of the food chain shopper. She's also a very nice person.

Unlike my mother, I am not a shopper. I can shop (I am female afterall), but I would rather do a lot of other things besides shopping. I should also say that I'm not completely Costco naïve. I think I've been inside a Costco twice. Both times I went with a man who was on a mission to get something. I also can find the nearest Costco. It's right behind the In & Out.

I went to Costco one grey overcast morning. I walked in and showed my gift card to the card checker at the door. He smiled and greeted me. Once inside, I stood facing a row of big flat screen TVs sitting on boxes containing more TVs. They were all simultaneously showing a preview for the new Star Trek movie, and it was just too much media stimulation. A woman pushing a huge flat cart nearly hit me, but I jumped out of her way. How much stuff was she gonna buy?

I clutched my Trader Joes shopping bags to my chest and moved on. I walked past a male Costco worker selling purses. One of his co-workers was ribbing him. Still, it takes a certain kind of man to sell purses at Costco.

I walked past the Blendtec girl making green smoothies with a Blendtec blender. She was blending and talking and blending and talking. The blender looked and sounded like every blender I had ever seen. I tried a bit of the green smoothie. It was a little too sweet for me.

I decided to be practical in my Costco shopping. What do I use a lot of? What do I always run out of? Laundry detergent. Unfortunately, all the detergent was bulk sized, and I had forgotten to grab a cart and take my yearly steroid. I looked around bathroom items, but they didn't have my brands. I contemplated ibuprofen, but I got depressed. I don't need that much pain relief.

I wonder if Costco has ever thought of doing a work-out day for its members. For a few hours, folks can come in and do laps around the store. Maybe do some squats with bags of potatoes. Maybe bench press the giant tubs of oleo.

I wandered through the food area. There were coolers and coolers of food. Who eats all that stuff? Then I started to recognize items from a variety of potlucks I had been to through the years. However, I couldn't buy anything frozen or refrigerated. Costco was my first stop of the day.

I wandered into the valley of clothes. At the center of the store were huge tables with stacks of ugly clothing. Two female Costco employees were folding and chatting. I did find a blue T-shirt for thirteen bucks ($12.99). It was made in Lesotho. I looked Lesotho up online. It's a landlocked African nation completely surrounded by South Africa and the largest exporter of garments to the US from Sub-Saharan Africa.

But I couldn't reflect too long on world economics and the true cost of cheap goods. The green smoothie sample had frozen my brain.

I found a tub of Fancy Mixed Nuts. I like nuts. They could also be a visual metaphor for my state of mind in Costco. My nuttiness is of the mixed variety. There is so much visual stimulation that I don't know where to look. The nuts were $14.49. Sold!

I took my two simple items to the checkout and got in line behind a bunch shopping carts. The lady in line behind me exclaimed that she had come all the way from Israel to shop at Costco. I noticed she had some nice looking bath towels.

After I paid, escaped, and nearly hit a Prius as I was pulled out of my spot, I went over to the In & Out. I ordered my fries animal style.

I wonder what Costco is like at night when nobody is there. Do the ghosts come out and watch the big televisions?

Thanks Mom, but please don't make me go to Costco again.

Robot Journal: The Lima Bean Hour

WUAG
At the intellectual powerhouse that is the University of North Carolina at Greensboro lives a tiny radio station with enough wattage to broadcast literally a mile off of campus.
As a fresh man, my roommate David and I had the valuable and highly in demand slot of 1am to 4am on Wednesday nights our first semester. I think that was right.
Whatever it was, it wrecked havoc on my education career.
The next semester I was able to move to the much more pleasant 10pm to 1am on Tuesday nights. I had a small notebook that I’m sure is in this apartment somewhere where I listed what I wanted to play every week and even had a short list of ‘standards’ that I’d play every week. No idea what was on that list, but I imagine it’d make my cringe something fierce today.

Nerding Out
Like every dumb white guy who had a radio show in college (“Wow! You had a radio show in college?!”, says nobody excitedly) this was a huge opportunity to geek out over music. As a child, I had spent many hours in record stores and spent many allowances on 45 records (I’m old) but working at the radio station was a friggin’ candy store (if I was a kid and liked candy).
Bands were sending us records. There were stacks and stacks of records. Bands sent us little oddball releases that you couldn’t buy.
It was wonderful. I bought a lot of TDK SA90s to record everything and would drown friends and love-interests with cassettes of stuff.

Fired Twice
I was fired twice. That stunk.
Damn Woody! (rest in peace)
In one of those later years (junior or senior) I was offered a “job” on the “executive board”. I was “promotions manager”.
Honestly, I have no idea what I was supposed to do and I fear that I did nothing.
But, what it meant was that I had an office (or a desk in an office) and a phone and a set of keys. Oh, the keys. The keys were the best.

Four Track
Probably my favorite was the four-track in the production room that I spent many late hours with making noisy things. If I had the space and a bit of cash, I’d totally recreate that production room now with the two Technics turntables and the fancy reel-to-reel four track. Good times.

Newspaper Article
The notorious (in that he passed out on our porch once) newspaper columnist in our little city once came by and interviewed me and wrote an article about college radio. I was featured in the newspaper. My grandmother thought that was great.

March 27, 1990 - It's just another manic Tuesday night here in Anti-Radio Land, which means absolutely anything can happen at absolutely any moment.
Sure enough, here it comes.
Rich Robot hosts a weekly exercise in mayhem called ``The Lima Bean Hour'' here on WUAG-FM, the student radio station at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. He's just answered a phone call from some goober of a listener who doesn't know...

The article made me sound like a bit of a jerk.

Lima Bean Hour
That was my show. Lots of noise. I was inspired by the radio show that the Negativland guys did out on the west coast - except that they didn’t have to do proper station breaks and public service announcements.
This was apparently my last show, although I think I milked the “this is my last show” thing for a few weeks.

Tropical Depression: May all beings be free from suffering: late winter in the country

It was early morning, towards the end of March. My husband left to head north at 4:15 and, though I didn’t get up right away, it wasn’t long until I gave up on sleeping and started my usual morning routine. The dog, a 14 year old Cairn Terrier, eventually got up and came downstairs to be let out. Our neighborhood is desolate in the winter (with an uptick to ‘quiet’ in the summer); the speed limit is 15, so we seldom take the dog for a leashed walk in the early morning.

After a few minutes, as is the routine, I opened the door to see if she had returned and there she was, trotting up the driveway, looking very serious. She was focused. She had something in her mouth. There had been a few episodes last summer where she killed voles, the little ground dwelling something-or-others that burrow in people’s lawns and disrupt their, well, their lawns I guess. So I was expecting a vole type situation, but what I pried from her little vice-like jaws was a bunny. A silky smooth, too young to even have it’s eyes open, heart still beating, still moving, snuggling, leaking mother’s milk from the hole in it’s belly where my damn dog had punctured it, bunny.

I cradled the snuggling bunny in my hands, wrapped it in a scarf, held it close, whispered words of comfort, paced around the house, went outside, came back in. Leave the bunny outside or find an animal rescue? Leave the bunny outside or find an animal rescue? Went outside again, came back in again.
I called my husband- he was halfway to New Hampshire. “Leave the bunny outside.“ Easier said than done. In this town wild bunnies are everywhere but there in my hands was a life, a snuggling, warm, gentle, clover munching life and this animal was going to die and I was going to be the witness. This is the way it goes.

I stood with that snuggling bunny, sobbing, going in and out of the house over and over and over until I sort of came to terms with the situation; I eventually settled on a suitable spot near the corner of the house to place it, under a bush. I don’t know how to explain the difficulty of that decision, leaving the bunny outside, but it broke my heart as if I was putting down a much loved pet. I buried it on Easter Sunday with an early dandelion, a sprig of rosemary, a clipping of wild strawberry and a nice rock from the beach.
May all beings be free from suffering.
May all beings know happiness and the root of all happiness.

Sunshine Jen: Dear Tilda Swinton

Dear Tilda Swinton,

I recently saw an article in the New York Times about your performance art piece at the Museum of Modern Art. According to the article, you lie in a glass box and seem to sleep in plain clothes. The card next to the glass box reads: Living artist, glass, steel, mattress, pillow, linen, water and spectacles.

Since I live in Los Angeles and the Museum of Modern Art is in New York, I think it's highly unlikely that I will see this piece soon. Still, I am curious about one thing: can you hear the people who come into your gallery?

Can you hear the little kid who blows on the glass to make it foggy? Or the other little kid knocking on the glass? Or the third little kid who runs into the glass full speed then hits the floor and lets out a wail that would wake the mummy at the Met?

Can you hear the comments people make like:

She's a lot thinner than I thought she'd be.

How does she go to the bathroom in there?

Whoahhh she's sleeping.

Is that really her?

It's like she's making a statement you know.

Oh she was so good in that movie with George Clooney.

I'm moving on from it. I'm really moving on.

It seems a little self-indulgent if you ask me.

I wonder where they stashed that Matisse?

What does she need the spectacles for?

I wonder what brand of water that is.

I told him I loved him, and he just stood there not saying anything, and I wondered if the last twenty-two minutes meant anything to him?

No cameras!

Stand there, got it.

No cameras!

There's a good Italian place near here.

She's finally moving out. Finnnnally.

I've been working on my idea, you know, the one I told you about, and I think it's almost to the point where it is presentable.

I made it as far as the second interview, and it went to someone else. Not even a we'll keep your resume on file. Just it went to someone else. Oh whatever.

--Did you see The Voice last night?
--Oh my God, that girl was so good.

This is soooooo borinnnnnng, Mommmmmm.

We spent all night texting. It was like we really connected.

Excuse me, where's the nearest restroom?

Okay, that's nice. Let's drink.

Do you sometimes want to talk back to your viewers? Do you want to tell them that it's all okay inside the glass? Do you want to tell them that inside a glass a box you hear forever in the silence? Do you want to tell them that actually, you were in two movies with George Clooney?

What would I say if I saw you asleep in the glass box? Probably nothing. How long would I stand there looking in at a sleeping actress? I could stand there as long as I want. Art is cool that way.

Would the gallery be silent? Would it be like seeing a deer out in the woods when you stand there not moving because there's something you don't want to disturb even though you know it won't hurt you? If one watched you long enough, would a little twitch or flutter have the epic quality of film projected on a huge wall of a dark room? Or would it all just be human?

Regards,

Sunshine Jen

Robot Journal: What I've Learned After Two Years of Full-Time Travel

Travel Amateur
I’ve been in my new-ish job at Cubicle World for about two years. It’s been a huge lifestyle and work change as I went from a 9-5 desk job to basically never being in the office anymore. I went from hiding behind a computer screen to standing in front of people.
It’s been crazy.

Here are things I’ve learned.

Packing
As far as packing, my most valuable tools are a snazzy bathroom kit and two “packing system” items (I use the Eagle Creek ones). One is just small-ish (maybe 8x10 inches) rectangle that is perfect for packing t-shirts, underpanties, and socks. This way I don’t have random socks or underwear floating around in my luggage.

The other item is a flat pack for dress shirts. You fold them up nicely and then the pack kind of flattens them a bit. Yes, they can sometimes come out a tad wrinkly, but if you…

Turn the light out
If you need to get wrinkles out of your clothes, a good 5-10 minutes spent in the bathroom with the shower on hot should steam them right out. The trick, in most hotels, is that you need to turn the light off because the light controls the vent and the vent works well enough that your clothes don’t get as steamy as they need to be (learned from the much wiser Mark).
My strategy is to steam my shirts or whatnot for five minutes, turn off the shower and let them stay there for as long as possible (with the light out of course). Overnight works well. I try to do this way in advance of wearing them so they aren’t damp.

Oh, and staying in a Marriott where the coat hangers are tiny and won't fit on the curtain rod? Just un-do a few of the shower curtain clips and use those to hold the hangers. That's what I do.

Suit
Speaking of suits, I love the Ted Baker suits they make that are somewhat wrinkle free and I think stain proof. I think they call them their Endurance suit. Perfect for travel. Comfortable and modern and fairly handsome.
(uber-fashion folks don't like these suits because they are apparently cheaply constructed - I've never had an issue)

Luggage
I've gone through one or two pieces of luggage and finally seem to have consistently carried the Tumi T-Tech Presido. We had some made at work and I was very thoughtfully given one (after I pouted for a while). Mine is black.
It's a tough little bag.

Bathroom Kit
Years ago I got a snazzy hanging little bathroom kit that I would carry with me and the issue always was (and this was back when I only traveled for fun) that I’d invariably forget something. Now, I just keep a duplicate of whatever deodorant, shaving cream, hair mucky gel, and teeths brush in there at all times. This is great. I can just now grab the kit from the closet and go. In the case of a zombie apocalypse I’m good to go.

Oh, and I never pull it out of my bag or put liquids in a Ziploc when going through security - not even the full sized deodorant. I'll get stopped for that about every six months, but I've never had anything taken away.

Rewards & Miles
Everyone will tell you to quickly identify an airline, hotel, and rental car company that you like and try to use them all the time for your travel. So, I’ve done that (Delta, Marriott or Starwood, Hertz) but I also got a Delta Amex card which will replace my Amex “Blue” card (remember how that card was supposed to do… stuff?) and for every purchase I get miles on Delta. The Amex helps to speed up your movement up their tiers. I’m currently “Delta Mauve”.

(I have all these Marriott points, but I get so annoyed with them sometimes. Slowly trying to move to all Starwood hotels (W, Westin, etc))

Travel Agent
Crikey. Especially since I travel for work, I have access to a travel agent. I don’t use them that much, but when you are stuck somewhere because of a cancelled flight, they are invaluable. I often want to hug them. The woman who I work with has been with me through some stressful times.
“I can get you on the next flight if you can get to the other terminal”
“I can’t! I won’t make!”
“You can! I have faith in you! Run Forest! Run!”

Walk
It seems like I do a lot of eating and drinking and riding around in cars when traveling for work – so one goal I have is to always walk.
Walk in airport terminals.
Take the stairs in the hotel.
Never sit down.

Dollars
I always forget to have cash with me, but small bills are awfully handy as I often find myself in situations where tips are needed. Cash is still necessary.

Internets Phone
On the ol’ phone, I live and die by...
- The Delta App: where I can check in and get my boarding pass and see if I can steal an upgrade.
- TripIt: Keeps all the hotel, flight, and car rental all nice and organized. One stop!
- The United App: ugly but works for when I fly them
- Flight Tracker: Will give me updates sooner on flight delays and cancellations than others
- Gate Guru: Kind of a funny Yelp-esque app that list services and restaurants at various airports by terminal
- Twitter: If you fly Delta, they are one of the few brands that actually helps customers via Twitter
- Lodgenet: There is a LodgeNet app for the iPad that allows you to control the television in your room! No more handling the creepy dirty remote. It also has a nice channel guide (for when I want to watch Family Guy (the only thing I ever seem to watch)).

Global Entry
Finally, I signed up for Global Entry which is a fancy little card that allows me to skip a lot of the customs lines when flying back into the USA. I don’t fly international that often, but in theory it also gets me through the Pre-Check lines here. The photo on my Global Entry card is hilarious. I’ll show it to you.

Sunshine Jen: Gadgets

After facing rush hour traffic the other night, I decided to grab a slice of pizza therapy at Roccos on Main Street of Culver City. I had a Farmer's Market slice with cheese, tomato sauce, and tons of veggie goodness. Sometimes, all I need is a slice. Back on an even keel, I headed to the parking garage. I was feeling fortified enough to get back in the car.

On the sidewalk outside the parking garage, an obviously lost young couple were looking at their phones and doing everything to figure out where they were and where the restaurant was except they didn't look up or ask directions from two or three other people walking by.

Finally, the woman asked me where the Tender Greens was. I told her down the block and make a left, she'll see it. Meanwhile the guy kept looking at his phone. Finally, he asked if I knew where 999909 Culver Boulevard. I held my hand up in a calming gesture.

Sir, your numbers mean nothing to me. I said.

Then I pointed him in the right direction for Culver Boulevard. You can't miss it. There are a zillion restaurants there.

The young couple walked away. I headed back to my car. As I climbed the stairs of the parking garage, I thought about the modern urban world.

I used to just walk around an area and pick a restaurant that looked good. Or some friends would know a place, and we'd go there. Or I would know a place. Now there are gadgets with maps, reviews, recommendations. Does anyone just walk around a neighborhood anymore?

As I unlocked my car, I realized that I don't want to live a gadget urban life. I want to try a place or a thing just for the sake of trying it. It might be good. It might be bad. So what. If it's bad, don't go back there again. If it's good, go there again.

I do realize that the gadgets are here to stay, and I actually benefit from them (look! I have an amazon author page now). But I don't want to give up standing in a new space and looking around it with amazement and thinking oh wow, I want to try that.

The radical in me thinks these gadgets are a way of numbing and enslaving the populace. We have to work jobs to buy our gadgets which distract us from social issues like stagnant wages and the rise of mega-banks. What if we threw our gadgets away and existed as a nomadic people in a zombie post-apocalypse?

Speaking of unplugging and looking around, one of my facebook friends recently announced that she was taking facebook off her phone. The more plugged in we get the more unplugged I want to be. Now, I'm no real time saint. I have checked my phone during conversations. But I'm all for putting the gadgets away. Maybe I'm just a curmudgeon at heart.

Finally, if you're reading this blog on a gadget while walking down the street, LOOK UP!

Sunshine Jen: Yep I Did It Again

I apologize for the scarcity of sunshine jenity lately. I've been a bit busy launching my second ebook.

Yep, I had so much fun making The Slacker Pilgrim Guide that I had to do it again. This time, I made a fiction book about Los Angeles.

The new ebook is called Beautiful Collisions: Stories from Los Angeles, and it is available worldwide on Amazon.

Beautiful Collisions is a collection of interconnected stories about women in Los Angeles during the new millennium. Some of the collisions are romantic. Some are not so nice. They are all beautiful in some way.

With this book, I want to capture a Los Angeles that thrives in the imagination. I am also excited that I can finally spell millennium without looking it up (it was just one of those words that always got me). And don't worry, no fictional characters were harmed during the making of this book.

After I launched The Slacker Pilgrim Guide, some writer friends wanted to pick my brain about making ebooks. How? What? Where? I've decided to do the rest of this post in question and answer format.

I've written something, and I've been meaning to do something with it. Maybe I'll do it as an ebook. Where do I start?

When I was thinking about making The Slacker Pilgrim Guide into an ebook, I read Let's Get Digital by David Gaughran. He was really good about going step by step into the world of ebooks from formatting to promotion. His book also gave me the confidence to do it.

A good site to check out is Smashwords (www.smashwords.com). The Smashwords style guide is extremely easy to follow. I was able to get The Slacker Pilgrim Guide up on all channels by uploading to Smashwords. You can upload to Amazon from Smashwords, but you can also just upload your document onto Amazon easily which I did.

Do I need special software?

I work on Microsoft Word 2003 for Windows XP. Once formatted properly, I uploaded the document to Amazon which did the conversion and even spell checked.

I am not super technical. I type all the Sunshine Jen posts on Word as well.

Since I am not in the Appleverse, I can get into the Apple Store through Smashwords. Sorry Apple folks, at this point, the new book is only available on Amazon.

Why is Beautiful Collisions only available on Amazon?

I wanted to see what being exclusive on Amazon would be like. I can opt out at the end of any 90 day period.

I don't have a Kindle. How can I read your new book?

You can download a Kindle Reader here.

Do you hate real books now?

No. I don't hate real books. The majority of my reading is still print. I enjoy holding books just like I enjoy writing on paper with a pen. I don't think printed paper will ever die. Ebook readers are just another medium---not the only medium.

Will there be a happy robot ebook?

Actually, that's my question. Rich????

Are you going to do another trip?

Working on it.

Sunshine Jen: Blister Lister

First, a bit of housekeeping. I am slowly getting the hang of Twitter. My handle is @RoboSunshineJen. I will follow you if you follow me all the days and nights. . .

I also recently blogged about the Camino over on Girlfriendology. You can go there by clicking here.

And onto the blog post. . .

Lately, I've been feeling alienated in LA, but I try not to let it get me down as I go for long hikes in the Santa Monica Mountains. Recently, this alienation became much more present when I went to a talk about virtual reality and the modern theatre.

I rsvped to the rsvp email. I received a confirmation/please-come email back from Amelia. I showed up five minutes before the start of the talk. Nothing starts on time in LA, so I was early. I went up to the girl with the list at a table by the door.

Jen: Hi, I made a reservation. It's Jen.

List Girl: Joan?

Jen: No, Jen. J-E-N.

List Girl: We don't have you on the list.

Jen: I got a confirmation email from Amelia.

List Girl: Could it be under a different name?

Jen: No.

List Girl: Uhm.

(Long pause as List Girl stares blankly at my shoulder for a moment, then looks over at another list on the table.)

Jen: Do you have a second list?

List Girl: No it's the same list.

Jen: (unsure what to do next) So. . . .

List Girl: You can just go in.

Jen goes in pondering the relevance of the list. By the way, the talk was not very good although they did serve sweets afterwards.

Long after I forgot the talk, I continued to think about the list. I have been on both sides of the list. I have been the girl with the list. I have been the girl who made the list. I have been on the list, the friend of someone on the list (have they shown up yet?), and not on the list but willing to pay cash.

Lists, lists, lists. LA is full of lists. Are you on the list? Off the list? What if we just got rid of all the lists?

I'm not an A-lister. I'm not even a B, C, or D-lister. I'm a blister lister. I don't deal well with list friction.

And there were flowers in bloom on my recent hike.

Sunshine Jen: Unleashed in Westridge-Canyonback Wilderness Park

My Aunt has a dog who loves to walk. He's a six year old mutt with a lot of border collie in him. He does not play fetch. He does not run around the dog run with other dogs. He just walks. His name is Earl.

Earl and I get along well because I will take him for long walks on trails. Earl will stay with me on the trail and come to me when I call. He doesn't care about snakes, horses, or other dogs. Occasionally, he might smell a smell, but he is an excellent trail hiker.

One of our favorite trails is in the Westridge-Canyonback Wilderness Park at the end of Mullholland Drive west of the 405 freeway. You can bring a dog off-leash as long as he/she is under voice control and you clean up after him/her preferably with a bio-degradable plastic bag. When the smog is low, there are great views of LA's vast urban sprawl including the San Fernando Valley and Downtown.

You can also walk to an abandoned cold war missile complex in San Vicente Mountain Park less than a mile from the parking lot, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Recently, Earl and I went up to Westridge-Canyonback and also to the Missile Silo. It was a clear February day. The smog wasn't bad. I actually remembered to bring a camera.

We walked a mellow walk. There weren't any puppies that so enthusiastically wanted to be friends that they were pulling their owners on the leash. There weren't uncertain dog owners who worry that Earl will attack their little dog (he won't). There weren't too many bikes speeding down the downhills and huffing and puffing up the uphills. We could just chill and walk.

We walked past burned out trees and a golf course. We took some trails over hills. We took water breaks and walked some more. We took the road to the missile silo in San Vicente Mountain Park.

After 8/10th of a mile (according to sign), we arrived at LA96C, formerly a Nike Missile Control Site during the 1950s and 1960s. During the Cold War, LA96C was one of sixteen missile sites that protected Los Angeles from Soviet bombers.

By the end of the 1960s, both the US and Soviet Union had developed bigger missiles, so LA96C became a park not for peaceful reasons. It simply became obsolete.

Earl and I stopped for another water break before heading back to the car. He curled up in the backseat for a nap as I faced 405 traffic. If I could only teach that dog how to drive. . .

Sunshine Jen: Unleashed in Westridge-Canyonback Wilderness Park

Robot Journal: Ohio + Arizona + Mrs Robot's Birthday = Busy Robot

Airy Zona
Not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but ever since I took that new position at Cubicle World USA two years ago, I travel quite a bit. The past two weeks have been what you might call “tough” as I’ve been away for almost the entire time.

First, there was Ohio. I like Ohio, particularly Columbus where I generally have a swell time. That said, Ohio for me is an annual death march as they (Ohioans) tend to want me to visit every city in their fair state so my schedule often looks like this...

7:00am Depart from hotel
9:00am Arrive somewhere
10:00am Do something involving speaking or standing up
12:00pm Have lunch with someone somewhere
3:00pm Do something else involving lots of driving
6:00pm Do something
8:00pm Ridiculous dinner
11:00pm Check-in to hotel

Then repeat for a week

So, I did Ohio. And boy, did I.
Back from Ohio, I had about a day and a half to unpack, find clean laundry, re-pack, pet the wife and hug the cat and depart to Arizona.

Conference Time
At Cubicle World USA, we hold an annual conference every year (ha). Actually, to clarify, there are lots of conferences, but I tend to “do” only this one. We have about 150 attendees and it’s usually a ridiculous week of listening to brilliant people talk and drinking ridiculously brilliant things and then eating things and waking up at 5am and going to be at 4am and running around the whole time. I’m part of the team that puts the whole show together so I’m comfortable using the term “War Room” and know all sorts of catering terminology (“they need another queen”, I said) and finding my way through the bowels of hotels and kitchens while keeping my shoes shiny and clean.

To be fair, my job is often the easiest in the grand scheme of things.
Yet, I'm exhausted.

(I had a great hotel room, though)

Speaking of shiny shoes
I’m all obsessive and/or compulsive about shoes right now. I need a new pair, and I spend way too much time on Zappos and/or thinking about shoes and looking at what other people wear.

Two Meals
This weekend we had two lovely meals.
Friday @ Fonda Brooklyn.
This was Mrs. Robot’s “Birthday Weekend” and so we met our pals KMAC and RMAC for dinner at Fonda. They do some delightful, a bit upscale Mexican food. Good times.

Saturday @ The Modern
We first started with a cocktail at the 21 Club which is one block south. We’d never been. They do make some mean cocktails. Mrs. Robot said it was the best martini she’d had.
Then dinner at the Modern, although we did the bar area and not the main dining room.
Champagne. Soft cooked egg + lobster + mushrooms. Duck confit. Liverwurst. More.
It was all awesome.

Oh, and Sunday we ran into our pals Mike & Pat and had brunch with them. We brunched!
It’s been so long.

Post-Modern Drunkard: Ten Years in The City

Today is the 10 year anniversary of my moving to NYC.

After six months in NYC, I started referring to "pop" as "soda."

At nine months, I had the convention down, and I started saying the street name before the avenue "40th and 5th. 57th and 7th."

In less than a year, "convenience store" became "bodega."

At about 18 months, for my sanity's sake, I learned to stop falling in love with every beautiful girl on the subway, and started wanting to just be left alone with my thoughts, no matter what.

By year two, "the City" meant New York City, and nothing else.

By year three, "The City" meant just Manhattan."

At some point, early on, waiting for a green light turned into jaywalking...

...which turned into "Why don't you fuck off back to Jersey!" at any cars that dared to honk as I crossed.

At year four, I was kicked in the back of the head by one of those fucking kids breakdancing on the 6 train during Rush Hour.

At year five, I was punched in the head by a kid, part of a group of kids trying to run off with my date's purse.

Around that time, I started biking in the cities. I learned that it was possible to make obscene gestures while changing lanes.

I have lived in six different apartments.

I have gotten used to spending $14 on a cocktail, $12 for a burger, and, occasionally, more than a month's rent for a single meal for two.

But throughout all this, I still stand "in line" rather than "on line."

Tropical Depression: The country haircut

I trimmed my own bangs. I was between moments when a $(kind of pricy)$ haircut seemed reasonable (these days the price includes coloring the grey hair) and things weren't looking too bad so I thought "I am perfectly capable of trimming my own bangs." This goes against years of my no exceptions policy of NOT cutting my own hair. My mother and sister both prefer a bargain and so they often find themselves fixing the issues they are left with when they get home from the bargain salon. I don't have to fix anything because when I get home there is nothing wrong. If there is something wrong I call up my hairdresser and she fixes it for free. I do not cut my own hair. Except I did. And of course I cut it just a little bit crooked and also too short because that is what happens when I throw years of solid thinking out the window to save a few bucks and try to skip a haircut.

Somewhere along the line I read a blog post by an author type woman who moved from the city to the country and was writing in part about adjusting to country life. I can not find the post again for the life of me. Anyway, she'd been in the country for a few years and finally succumbed to what she called, as I remember it, the Country Haircut. It's not inherently BAD- there's just something unfortunate about it. Like it is the haircut that leaves style out of the equation. Like it is the most popular haircut in town because that's the only one the woman at the salon knows. Like its the haircut you will die with because Donna at the salon also works for the towns funeral director, doing make-up and hair for the deceased. The country haircut is utilitarian, it is not stylish.

After my bangs f*ckup I was chatting with a couple of well-regarded local ladies and realized suddenly that we all cut our own bangs and that we all looked a little folksy and utilitarian. It was disconcerting, but I stopped for the moment being embarrassed about my hair. And this must've been when I slipped another inch down the slope because before I knew it I had colored my own hair with some of that crap you buy at the CVS. And it was an unmitigated disaster. So then I tried to fix it with another box of crap- also a disaster- and and only THEN did I send my hairdresser a facebook message and leave her a voicemail at her home number. Because, seriously, this has to stop somewhere.

Denouement: My hairdresser called me back and said something soothing like "there is always a solution." I have an appointment.

Post-Modern Drunkard: The Onion and the C Word

The Onion is one of the gold standards of comedy on the internet. I've been following them for most of my life; I had a paid subscription to the newspaper when I was back in college, which is weird, because the newspaper is free and also available on the internet, which is where I spent most of my time anyway.

So like most of you, I was really disappointed by the tweet mocking Quvenzhané Wallis during the Oscars last night. Mostly, I'm disappointed because it's a needlessly lazy and crass joke; it fails at actually funny because it leans too much on simple transgression for its comedy, and it fails at some of the basic rules of comedy: it punches down, rather than up. Some of the best comedy attacks the pompous and the powerful. Quvenzhané Wallis is a confident brash actress nominated for the most pretigious award in Hollywood, but she's still a nine year old girl.

When you peel back the layers of the joke, you can see what they were trying to do. It sticks to a tried and true formula: take an almost universally admired public figure, and make an outlandish accusation at them. It's funny because it's so self-evidently not true. Oprah Winfrey can only achieve sexual satisfaction by watching hobos get murdered. Nelson Mandela likes to promise large sums of gold coins to needy organizations only to replace it with Hanukkah gelt. Shit like that. It's lazy comedy, and it often only just takes on the appearance of being funny without actually achieving a laugh.

I have no specific insight into the circumstances that inspired The Onion writer to write this particular tweet, but I can very easily imagine that they were trying to parody a certain type of asshole on the Internet: One of the strengths of the Onion is that they take what assholes are saying online and then just ramp it up to the limits of Poe's Law, to say ironically and articulately what people are actually saying online and expose them to ridicule. The Onion's policy is to never tip their hat that they're speaking ironically--just to say it and count on people to figure it out by the absurdity of what they're saying. It leads to a lot of misunderstanding.

Likely, this particular tweet was to parody the particular weird animosity that surrounds people at Oscar time, perhaps best typified by the way people have really viciously turned on Anne Hathaway. Somehow it's become completely okay to say totally nasty things about Anne Hathaway; it only becomes self-evidently repugnant when it's said about a self-confident nine year old girl, but that doesn't mean it's right to go after Anne Hathaway.

I'm not really interested in going on a witchhunt and seeing scalps at The Onion or anything like that, and I'm really leary about the idea that we should police comedy more strictly, because that seems like a pretty good way to get watered down bullshit for comedy. We shouldn't leave transgressive comedy to Daniel Tosh or Dane Cook, because they'll ruin it. But that doesn't mean anyone gets off the hook when they make a stupid lazy joke. The bar should be higher for quality for the transgressive joke. If you're going to mention rape, or say "cunt" or "fag," you better make sure the joke isn't that you're saying rape or cunt or fag. Leave that weak shit at home, okay?