Seriously outside the cornfield: Houston edition

For reasons I still can't rationalize, work sent me to Houston, TX, this week under the auspices that somewhere there was someone that needed my help with something.  Despite what I'm sure most of my friends think, I'm not used to being the smartest person in the room at work and tend to spend the better part of the work day sitting back at listening to people with way more knowledge and experience than myself.  I learn a ton and it's great.  Today was the exact opposite of that.

First, I should state that I don't think I've been to Houston in 15 years, not since the Bar Mitzvah of a cousin who I don't really speak to anymore for various reasons.  I have few memories of the city (except those involving Bas Mitzvahs and insane weddings), but those memories are enough to make me heavily dislike the entire state (despite that I spend a lot of time at work dealing with issues in Texas and won't be getting rid of those projects any time soon).  

I forgot how flat it is here.  How everything next to the highway seems to look like a rundown strip mall.  How it was clearly affected by multiple hurricanes.  How spread out it all is.  I had just forgot.  I now remember.  And that hasn't really improved my opinion of the city.  The little that I'm seeing of it (I'm spending a lot of time in meetings and giving a presentation, not exploring the city) isn't leaving the best impression and the only real upside was that I had been having nightmares for the last week about the people I was going to meet with down here and those were fairly unfounded.

There is one man in particular who I was scheduled to meet with here that has really been peeving me for weeks.  He is a rather brash individual, the kind you almost never meet in the Cornfield but who I stereotypically believe exist almost exclusively in the South (this feeling is completely not based on fact) and has been recently been calling me at work and complaining a lot.  I won't go so far as to call him a Redneck but he's up-front in a way that is not seen in the Cornfield and tends to say exactly what is on his mind with less of a filter than anyone.  EVER.  Anyway, he showed up for my presentation and we had planned to meet with his Coalition members after to look at data quality.  I was pretty convinced that at some point he would start a fight, there would be yelling (people from the Cornfield don't like yelling except at football games), and I would have to lose my calm work demeanor and get in this guy's face.  A colleague (also at the meeting) informed me that he would have no problem playing the bad cop and punching the guy out if he got in my face.  I'm happy to work with such awesome people.

Anyway, after all of this build-up, all the stress, the bad dreams, what does this guy do?  Shows up for my presentation, sits in the front row and damn near falls asleep during my various parts of my presentation.  Look, the presentation wasn't exciting; it was about homeless data quality and even I'll admit it's dry stuff and I can only tell so many funny stories before it goes down hill.  But was it snooze worthy?  NO.  THEN, after all his BS, he shows up at the meeting for his community and basically says nothing.  Does nothing.  Offers nothing.  I was so disappointed.  Part of me was looking for a fight, after all the emotional energy I've spent on this guy, part of me wanted to scream at him a bit.  But nothing.  He offered one sarcastic comment at one point then told me later he was happy I came and it was very informative.  Whatever.  *sigh*  I guess this is the part of the job where you swoop in, fix a problem, and pray you don't get a phone call later reminding you that everyone can be an adult when you are in the room with them, but a child once you go home.

I'm going back to DC tomorrow and will be happy to have this trip over.  Besides the general frustration I've felt for Houston, this was my first major trip where I was almost on my own, presenting in front of a lot of people (without notes!  or practice!  so excited I can do this off the cuff!) and being really displayed as an expert.  It's a lot of pressure in some ways, I'll be excited to get back to my office, where I can quietly sit and feel uninformed.

Can't the camera focus on something else?

The Idol gods have spoken and it appears as though it was not to be for our fair Tatiana.  Everyone knows how I feel about her: I think she is effing nuts.  She plays to the camera as she goes crazy and gives the world the impression that she is both insane and hungry to be a celebrity.  Case in point: this week on Idol.  She gives a relatively decent performance (I know, it was hard to admit, but her voice isn't half bad) and then appears to be a normal adult, but only up until the judges note that they basically thought she was nuts and didn't understand why she wasn't nuts all the time.  It's possible that's the point where I started yelling "'Cause she's faking dumb arses!"  When she got back up to the "green room" she started her whole on-air persona, going on about america and dreams and BLAH BLAH BLAH.  Sure enough, last night, she brought out the crazy a bit as she went on about faith or America or I'm not going to lie, I totally spaced out.  And America didn't buy it and she isn't in the Top 12.  I got giddy.

But then something happened that just peeved me.  As the show ended, the camera kept moving from the three individuals who made it through to Tatiana, who was balling on the side of the stage, and all I could think was how horrible it was.  I know she displayed every emotion under the sun in a 10-second interview during Hollywood Week, but there was something semi-private about that moment and I really didn't want to see it.  And I'm not sure she wanted us to either.

During the 2000 NCAA Men's basketball tournament (stay with me here), Iowa State made it all the way to the Elite Eight, something that almost never happens for us Cyclones.  I can't remember who they played, but they held it together for most of the game.  As the timer wound down though, my Cyclones started to lose it and in the last two minutes pretty much laid down and died.  I remember this game for a number of reasons (if they had won they would have played the Badgers and that was going to be a serious conflict for me), the most vivid being camera work at the end of the game.  Instead of showing the game, the cameras focused on Paul Shirley, an ISU player who was so invested in the game he began crying as they lost.  I felt so horrible for him, having this incredibly personal emotional moment on national TV and I just wanted the camera to turn away so that he could have that moment to himself.

The same goes for Tatiana.  As crazy as I fear she is, that seemed like a make-or-break moment in life and I know she signed on to having that happen on TV when she chose to audition, but part of me wishes she could have had that moment to herself, away from the drama, whether she wanted to or not.

My camera phone won't win any awards, but it rocks my casbah.

Here's why.

I broke down and got a cell phone with a camera about a year ago.  My phone doesn't connect to the internet (every other gadget I own seems to) so that renders the camera slightly useless.  I basically can take pictures of my friends and have those pictures flash when they call.  Not that exciting (and now that I think about it, not that nerdy).  But a couple of months ago I figured out the best use of my camera phone EVER: a photo "to-read" list.  

Here is how this works.  I tend to end up wandering around bookstores a lot, mostly just trying to piddle away some time while I wait for someone.  I pass a lot of books that look interesting and I used to always forget their names so that when it came to picking out a new book I would have to sort of rack my brain for the titles of books I had seen.  My camera phone (plus goodreads.com) has totally solved this problem.  Now, I just wonder around the bookstore and snap a photo of every book that looks interesting.  Then I go home, go through my pictures, and put the various books onto my "to-read" list. 

I know this is kind of a lame use of technology, but each time I do this, I get a little excited 'cause seriously, it's one of the few ways technology makes my life just a little bit easier.  Someday I may get a more hi-tech phone, but in the meantime, I'm cool with just using the camera to keep my "to-read" list up-to-date.  And take photos of my friends of course.

Idol insanity

Now that the auditions are finished, I'm all over American Idol.  Hollywood week, in my opinion, is the perfect cycle of drama, though I'm at a loss to describe exactly why.  My major disappointment this year is that we've seen so few people actually sing.  I know that the Idol is about more than singing; it's about being a commodity and a performer.  But before I start fake voting people out of the Top 36 ('cause I never really vote, I'm passive like that), I want to hear something from all of them.  For a "singing" competition, I don't think that is too much to ask.

But since we apparently aren't going to hear all of them sing, can I just say something?  WHAT THE HELL IS TATIYANA?!?!?!  I'm sorry, but how is this chick still around?  She is NUTS.  And while at times she seems to display some sort of decent singing voice, I'm sorry, there is no way in hell that this girl deserves to be on this show with an act like that.  I cannot think of a single music director or acting director that would ever put up with her desperate divaness, especially from an amateur.  If she were already an Idol and was pulling this crap people would probably allow it (though I can guarantee I would still think it was ridiculous), but I can't imagine any professional tolerating this BS.  I can't decide if her continued existence is for the drama or if she'll actually make it through on her voice.  

I'm in the middle of watching the episode where they present the Top 36 and they haven't clued us in to her fate yet but I can only hope that she goes the way of Bikini Girl soon.  Otherwise, I may actually call in the first week JUST to vote her off.

My vindication!

I knew I wasn't the only one who had a problem with these damn 25 Items posts!  Click here.  

(I have a much more insightful post forming in my head about this amazing documentary I saw this week, but I haven't quite figured out what to say, so stay tuned)

My 25 things dilema

If you are on Facebook, you probably got bombarded with the "25 Random Things Note," in which your friends wrote down 25 random things you might not know about them, tagged you, and expected you to do the same.  I've been avoiding my response for a few reasons.  One, I always wonder where the stuff I put about myself (blog included) goes in cyber space.  Who reads it, who cares?  Tagging people with a list of 25 things that I think are important just seems strange, like I'm forcing them to recognize that these are the things I think are interesting about myself, whether or not they actually are.  I wonder if they are what my friends find interesting about me and I wonder if it just fosters some sort of idea in my mind that I'm far more interesting and important than I actually am.

I'm also avoiding it because I'm having the worst time coming up with 25 things.  For the past few years I've taken the approach that my life is an open book and that if there is something I really don't want to talk about or have people know about me, I just don't talk about it.  Therefore, most people who know me know a lot about me.  In discussing this with a friend the other night, she promptly informed me I'm not that mysterious.  This kind of shocked me (who doesn't like a little mystery) and made me realize that people may be under the impression that just because I say a lot of things, I'm saying everything.  And I'm not.  And I have no idea how to convey to people that the verbal dribble that comes from my mouth is possibly the tip of an iceberg, though I have no idea how much of the iceberg is hiding under water.  Who knows what this says about me, but it might say something.  Maybe.  Probably not.

The problem may also be that everyone knows the random information about people, but not the core stuff that informs us, our decisions, and our actions.  I don't know how to expand on that thought, but it is something I worry about from time to time.

In the mean time, I have 13 random things you might not know about me.  If I come up with 12 more, you might see it posted on Facebook.  Maybe.

Inauguration Warm Fuzzies

I tivoed the inauguration.  That's right, I tivoed a political and cultural event on TV that I, in fact, attended.  I was rewatching it last night (it took up a lot of space) and was once again moved by the events of last week.  I attended almost any event I could, starting with Sunday's concert on the Mall and including the Inauguration (purple ticket!  and I got in!), the Youth Ball (I got in!  I couldn't see anything!), and finally the OFA staff ball (I got in!  I saw EVERYTHING!).  The details of the events are actually not nearly as exciting as the feeling of being there, of being a part of something that will only happen once, that people will tell their children about.

Sunday's concert was really the most amazing kick-off and really set the tone for the week.  Security was sort of a mess but everyone moved to other areas, found spots, helped kids see the Jumbotrons and sang and danced together.  The music was incredible, the weather was freezing and I don't think most people minded.  We were just all happy to be there.  And I have to say, it's been a long time since I was so moved by song, but singing This Land is Your Land with Pete Seeger was just incredible.  He helped with the words so everyone could sing along and we did.  I can't keep looking for words to describe the moment.  

Monday, I went to work.  boooooo.

Tuesday, well, I have a feeling you saw it.  Either you were there (I won't go into the purple ticket debacle) and were cold and hungry for the end of the Bush Presidency or you watched it on TV, knowing that you were witnessing the rebirth of America (please) and the next President call on us to improve our lives, our neighborhoods, and our country (Yes I can!).  Some pundits have poo poo in the inaugural address, but I found it the right mix of imagery and substance.  I don't think it was his most moving speech, but he had already taken the oath, he didn't need to move us to vote for him or believe he himself could make it better, he needed us and the world to understand that he knows the challenges and is ready to guide us down the path towards reconciliation and some sense of prosperity.  I for one am ready to run down that path, but I think we all know it will be a long walk.

It's early and I don't really want to go into all the hoopla of the balls, but I will say that we all looked fabulous and I had a great time with my friends.  The OFA staff ball was seriously incredible and I FINALLY got to see Obama speak in person.  Actually, that was my main problem with the entire weekend.  I felt like even though I was there in person, I watched the entire inauguration on a Jumbotron.  And it almost felt like I wasn't actually there.  So I was happy that the last event of the week involved seeing the President, the Vice-President, and several other people speak and perform.  I put pictures up on Facebook as well as my new Flickr account (http://www.flickr.com/photos/louiserothschild/) for all to see.  

Finally, let me tell you what I felt that entire week because they were feelings I haven't had in awhile.  I was/am so proud of America.  I was proud of the transition, of the events, of the ability for the majority of the country to come together and elect someone that is not set to divide us and does not want to be President of some of the country, but all of the country, of electing someone who actually embodies America.  I am happy that we can come together to celebrate our country without violence and that we can continue to show the world how an imperfect country can create a perfect democracy.  God bless American.

Current Song Obsession-early 90s edition

Anyone who has spent more than five minutes discussing music with me knows I have a softspot for 80s hair bands and early 90s pop schmaltz.  Want to spend an evening listening to Livin' on a Prayer and Kris Kross?  Look no further, I'm your gal.

This past weekend I was grabbing a drink with friends when my now current song obsession began playing in the bar.  I only heard it lightly and my first thought was "oh man I need to download this song."  I woke up the next morning and promptly downloaded.  I started to play it and OH MY GOSH HOW MUCH HAVE I MISSED THIS SONG?????  I can't begin to describe the happy feeling I got as I heard the first few chords.  The first verse kind of made me giddy, the chorus literally had me dancing around my apartment at 7:45 on a Sunday morning.  Six minutes later I'm happier than I've been forever (the dancing around the apartment helped).

I'm not trying to be coy about what song made me this happy.  I haven't mentioned it for a few reasons.  1).  It's by a guy whose had some slip ups in the past and I'm sure I've made a joke or two about.  2).  This song may have been entirely forgettable for most people I know.  3).  The video is both awesome and a little ridiculous.  and soooooo 90s.   4).  It's a song by George Michael. (Stop cringing)

Yeah, I'm talking about Freedom '90 by George Michael.  If you haven't taken a listen to this song in awhile, watch the video or download the song, I really don't think you will be sorry.  I've been listening to this a few times every day and I have to say, I'm super glad I put this song on my ipod and the new mix cd in my car 'cause I want to hear it all the time.  I love how it starts kinda low key with the piano and builds into this almost wall of sound chorus, dies down a bit, then comes back for more.  This song makes me want to choreograph some sort of amazing dance for the stage.  I love how I can listen to the lyrics and I totally get what George Michael is talking about (not that I'm a former teen pop idol dealing with being in the closet and trying a solo career while apparently liking public sex, but I see how it frustrates him).   

Someone (and definitely not me) should do an acoustic version of this, it's just ripe for being reworked.  But not copied.  There's rumor of a Robbie Williams remake and as much as I love Robbie Williams (who doesn't love brit pop on a rainy evening?) I don't want to hear his take on George Michael.  I want this song to stay pure, 'cause I'm pretty convinced it's pure pop genius.   

I honestly don't know how I stopped listening to this song.  How did I not buy the album?  Why don't I hear it on the radio ever?  I know that we aren't quite old enough for an oldies station composed of songs from our childhood, but when that day comes, I hope that amongst the Nirvana and Madonna and, yes, Bon Jovi that is played, the DJ finds some space for this gem.  I know I have.

House-wha?

During my little holiday jaunt to New York, I started watching the TV show House in reruns.  USA Network had some sort of multi-day marathon and I got sucked in.  I had only seen one episode before, when a friend of mine was having some sort of VCR issue and I promised I would tivo the show for him.  I thought it was a bit lame, watching it with him, but he was really into it and I sort of figured, well, someday this show might not suck.

I was kinda wrong.  This show confuses me.  First of all, USA was showing the episodes in no particular order, which peeved me to no end.  The show may be procedural, but there are are few continuing threads and showing episodes out of order super annoyed me.  Second, I fail to believe that there are that many bizarre medical cases floating around the Princeton area.  New Jersey is full of some pretty strange people, but not that many.  Or at least not that many around Princeton.

My biggest peeve about this show is, literally, in every episode I've seen (save the rerun I'm currently watching) the patient has, at some point, been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.  And each time, it turns out to be something else.  I'll admit I had only vague knowledge of MS before President Bartlett admitted he had it on West Wing, but something tells me that it's not nearly as common as this show would have us believe.  So why do they keep running to this diagnosis?  I have no idea, but I find it really frustrating and shows a real lack of creativity on the writer's part.  Is it the only nervous system illness they know of?  

A few years ago I remember some study came out about how much medical information people pick up from shows like ER.  People watch the shows and think themselves minor medical experts.  The study thought this was good, as the shows provided sort of a public service, leading people to get tested for ailments more often.  I can't help but think that House is providing none of this information, just freaking people out about strange diseases and making me happy I never applied to Princeton for grad school.  Tonight, I've watched one episode and all I've learned is that if I get a dog from the Southwest, and it has flies, I might get the plague.  Nice info.  Thanks House.

My one Xmas tradition

I know that I can be a bit "bah-humbuggy" during the month of December.  I get annoyed with the bombardment of Christmas into every day life.  I get frustrated with the music, the over-decoration, the rush to purchase large gifts and the stress of travel.  I'm also SERIOUSLY annoyed when people wish me a merry Christmas, as though it is assumed that I am Christian (one of my favorite things is to then wish them Happy Hannukkah and watch them get confused).  

I've had two Decembers that didn't frustrate me me to tears:  December 1997 and December 2000.  These two are significant because they are two holiday seasons where I wasn't in the US.  In 1997, my family took a trip to Israel and it was the first time I realized that the entire world didn't hum Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer.  There were Hannukkah celebrations in our hotel lobby (but just the candle-lighting, no crappy decorations) and on Christmas day, instead of going to a movie and being frustrated by all the store closings, I went scuba diving in the Red Sea (amazing, seriously).  December 2000 I was traveling through Europe and had the pleasure of celebrating the holiday with a good friend in Luxembourg.  We still had an issue with store and restaurant closings (we ate at Chi Chis) but we went to a lovely church service and spent the day taking in Luxembourg City.  So last minute sales, no chinese food, no 24-hour Christmas Story.  It was heaven.

Since then I have strived to create my own Christmas traditions, above and beyond the stereotypical "chinese food and a movie" that most of America thinks that is all Jews can do on December 25.  I've started by going to New York each Christmas.  And, though I never do it on Christmas, my favorite holiday tradition is to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and see the Creche.  This is an amazing work of art.  It's a 360 degree village of characters, including Mary, Jesus and Joseph (plus the Wise Men), at the base of a beautiful tree filled with floating angels.  There is fake water in a stream, people having conversations not related to the nativity, and gives the sense of the common setting of the nativity while still celebrating the birth of Jesus.  Set in front of a choir panel from Spain, with light classical holiday music being played in the background, I get a sense that, if I thought Jesus was the Savior, this is EXACTLY how I would want to celebrate it.  Simple, beautiful, classic.  I wish every December could be described that way.

Are we there yet?

So the Big Cornfield is a vast open space, where it seems to take at least two hours to get anywhere.  As a kid, going to the lake was easily a four hour trip.  Camp was a nine hour trip.  The nearest big city?  At least three and a half ('cause I refuse to count Omaha as a big city).  So it perplexes most people I know from the Cornfield when I tell them that I can hop on a bus in DC and be in downtown NYC in 4.5 hours.  They do the math and realize that in 4.5 hours, I will have traveled through four states and a District (5 states if you take the cheap route through Philly), all of which can be done while surfing the web (thanks Boltbus) or talking on one battery life of my cell.  You know where 4.5 hours gets me in the Cornfield?  Nebraska.  If your pedal is to the metal and you don't get a speeding ticket in Buchanan County, Iowa, it'll get to you Madison.  But by in large, 4.5 hours in the Cornfield gets you from one Cornfield to, maybe, one Soybean Field.

I'm happy I live in a part of the world where 4.5 hours gets me to so many amazing cities with so much incredible stuff to do.  And the transportation system out East is such that you can almost always find a way to get somewhere you need to go at just about any point in the day.   But as I sat on the bus, somewhere in the middle of New Jersey (it all looks the same from the bus), I couldn't help but realize that while 4.5 hours in the Big Cornfield is ACTUALLY 4.5 hours in a big cornfield, it's a beautiful cornfield that most don't stop and appreciate.  I personally find nothing serene about the drive from DC to NYC.  It is nothing but time spent stressed out (which is why I take the bus).  But that same time period, driving through the Cornfield, I find it mellow, calming, and even a little zen.  So while I'm happy that 4.5 hours takes me from one great city to another, I sort of wish I got the cornfield in between.   

I want to be Nick Hornby

I'm totally serious.  Nick Hornby is absolutely one of the coolest people I don't know.  First of all, he writes amazing books.  I'll admit to enjoying some more than others (Slam is no High Fidelity kids) and I'm constantly astounded by his ability to put my thoughts into words and phrases that just never would have come to my mind.  I admire him for his life-long love of Arsenal (read Fever Pitch, don't bother with the movies) and his ability to discuss music without having one of those "I remember this song 'cause it was playing when . . ." moments (Songbook is incredible!).  And I love that part of his job is just to sit around and read.  And talk about it.  And essentially get paid for it.  'Cause I soooooo want to do that.

Right now I'm in the middle of his latest book Shakespeare Wrote For Money, the third collection of his columns from The Believer.  The Believer is a literary magazine that sadly costs as much as it is worth (ie $$$) but thankfully they also put Nick Hornby's columns into books.  His columns have kind of the greatest premise ever: a list of books Nick bought this month, a list of books he read this month, and a long discussion of the books, his life, and his general thoughts on literature.  Sometimes all he talks about is why he didn't really read.  I don't care if that might sound self-indulgent, it's always fascinating.  The column has ended, which is sad, but if you have the opportunity to pick up these books, please do.  He reads books I've never heard of and can't wait to pick up and stuff I would never read in a million years.  Sometimes, he even reads books I've already read.  But no matter what the columns are thought provoking and engaging.  They make me want to be a better reader, a better writer, and a generally more informed person, and it's hard to ask for much more from someone who I've never met and really want to be.

Current Song Obsession

I'm not going to lie, I tend to obsess over music.  I find a song that hits my fancy at a given moment and I'm hooked.  Sometimes for a week, sometimes more.  I can't hear it enough and I play it over and over again.  I'm pretty sure my neighbor hates me.  

But I don't care!  Current Song Obsession: Valerie Plame by the Decemberists.  The song came out a few months ago, but I didn't download it until last week and now I can't listen enough.  It's peppy and jumpy, despite being about Valerie Plame's CIA work and her eventual exposure as an agent.  The Decemberists are pretty well known for this type of folky, almost medieval storytelling in their stories (current song obsession runner up right now is Crane Wife 3), so I love that they took on a modern story.  This isn't a downer tale of any of President Bush's actions over the past 8 years or a call for peace against the Vietnam War, it's just a plunky song about a girl who ended up kind of dicked over by people peeved at her husband.  There is sort of a oompah sound to the song, with a bass line that seems similar to a german polka and I adore the "Hey Jude" moment at the end.  I'm kinda convinced everyone should have a moment where they hear their name song at the end of a song by a chorus in multi-part harmony; Valerie Plame's moment sounds perfect. 

Still in the cornfield . . . . 

The hazards of making the annual trip back to the cornfield for Thanksgiving is that with the family and friends comes the flight cancelations.  This year is no exception.  I decided to scout out possible Cyber Monday deals by going to the mall today and started rolling my eyes when Mom kept checking my flights.  But 2 hours before I was to take off, sure enough, my flight to Milwaukee was canceled.  We then hopped in the car to the airport, with me on hold with the airline.  The call lasted ONE HOUR AND 33 SECONDS.  Around 45 minutes of that I was on hold.  And at the end of it I was rebooked on a 5:55 am flight tomorrow morning.  The silver lining to this pretty mediocre tale of the airline industry vs mother nature is that I get to spend the night with my brother, which is consisting of ordering pizza, taking a seriously awesome shower, and watching TV on an obscenely large TV screen.  Rock on.

Shout out:  Apple Stores.  I don't have a blackberry or an iphone so I'm usually without internet access when I'm not glued to a computer.  I love Apple Stores 'cause they let you check your email (and flight times) for free and don't bug you to buy the macbook while you type (waste of breath anyway, I already own one).  So kudos to them, the free internet is MUCH appreciated.

So I used to have this blog what feels like half a bzillion years ago to keep my family and friends up-to-date on my adventures and thoughts during my year abroad.  And once I got back to the States I sort of let it go as I got wrapped up with moving to the east coast, getting a job, losing a job, working retail, getting another job, going to grad school, and getting yet another job.  Which was pretty dumb on my part 'cause it's clearly a good outlet for thoughts, musings, and observations.  Or I hope it is.  Anyway, I'm restarting this little gig.  So here goes.

Though this blog is titled "Life out of the big cornfield" I'm actually in the Cornfield as I restart this.  I'm at the end of my annual pilgrimage home for Thanksgiving.  My family does a great job with this holiday with my father cooking an amazing meal, my mother making outstanding pies, and the family hosting my dad's international students for a traditional thanksgiving dinner.  As much as I love living on the east coast, I really love trips home.  They sort of reset my system.  They remind me that life exists outside the beltway, that there are issues that Americans face that have nothing to do with big cities, and that there is a part of the world that remembers me when I was shorter, had longer hair, and was less cynical.  I was shopping at JC Pennys and the woman who rang me up proclaimed she didn't have to ID me (to check my credit card) because she had known me for over 25 years.  'Cause she also works at the grocery store my family has been going to for 28 years.  Part of me loves that this sort of thing never happens when I'm in DC; I sort of love the anonymity of big cities, with the "I could be anyone" vibe.  But part of me sort of misses the random people that knew me back when.

Either way, I'm headed out of the cornfield again tomorrow (weather permitting of course).  Back to anonymity, urban problems, work, metros, and smog.  It'll be good to be home.

I realize that my last posting was about the cafeteria, but food is really one of the most interesting things around. So I was walking through the cafeteria the other day in Des Moines when I happened to glance at the menu. Yes, they were serving hot meat sandwiches again, but then I noticed that they were also serving Wisconsin Cheese soup. I asked the cafeteria guy (who always wears a VERY LARGE gold crusafix that kind of scares me) if the cheese actually came from Wisconsin or if it came from Iowa, or even perhaps California (which is, contrary to popular belief, the diary capital of the US), and he said he didn't know, that it was just called that. Has anyone ever heard of Iowa Cheese soup? No, it is always Wisconsin.
I actually have no idea where I'm going with this, but I just found it interesting that almost everytime a cheese soup is made, they name it Wisconsin Cheese soup (even in our state capital) no matter what the origin of the cheese and completely forgetting the fact that California produces more cheese than Wisconsin. Perhaps Wisconsin should take the phrase "America's Dairyland" off of it's license plates.
Conclusion of the day: Never trust the title of food with states in the name, you never know where it came from.

Why is it that cafeterias seem to be the most uncreative places to eat? I am speaking most specifically (though not exclusively) about the cafeteria here at the state capitol in Des Moines, IA. I have now been lunching here for just over a week only to find a menu item already repeated. Not hamburgers and fries or pizza, things that are repeated everyday for those people who don't like variety, but the hot roast beef sandwich. Why the hot roast beef sandwich? Why repeat that?
The only reason I can come up with is that they are good. I don't know who is doing their gravy, but it tastes and awful lot like KFC's, which is a personal favorite, and they serve it with rather taste ice cream-scoop-shaped mashed potatoes, alway a hot lunch favorite. But really, why repeat this? It boggles the mind I tell you. Perhaps they are repeating because so many people are just focused on getting hot lunches that they don't care about what they eat. Or perhaps it is just because they had roast beef left over from last week, but isn't that gross to be using it? Is it still fresh? Hmmmmm, will have to investigate and get back to one and all.
Conclusion of the day: I have to change the title of this blog and start bringing my lunch should I care for any variety in my lunch meal.

Hello everyone from America! After god only knows how many hours of traveling, I finally made it back to the states early this morning. It really sucked leaving France, but I know that I will return someday.
A slight change from my usual rant, I would just like to list a few things that were great about my trip home:
AirFrance played the movie "Amelie Poulain", with english subtitles, so I got to see it for a third time! And they served excellent duck for dinner. and I finally got to come home and sleep in a bed that wasn't two feet off the ground. And I got the Loft Story CD!
Bad things: The 5 hour wait in Chicago seem unnecessary and well, I was damn tired.
Sorry this isn't long, I don't have a lot to say at the moment, just a lot of sleep to catch up on.
Conclusion of the day: Never trust Chicago weather and fly AirFrance for the food and the movies

Oh hey, as of June 15th, I will be leaving France (SOB!) and I have no idea what to do with this blog as I will no longer be in France! So, please give me your ideas about what to do! Email me at hyperchouette@hotmail.com!

Why is sour cream called "creme fraiche" (fresh cream) in French? Which is it, fresh or sour? Who is right, the Americans or the French?
Well, if you ask the French, they will say they are the ones who are right, after all, their civilization has been around since before they can remember and we all know that French wine kicks California's wine's butt, plus, they don't have the death penalty. They will start ranting about what a huge impact their revolution had on the world (what ours was just a spat between two continents over tea?) and how we should all appreciate what they have given us over the past century (Charles de Gaulle and bad pop music are what come to mind first, though my roommate asked me not to forget Gerald Depardieu). Hmmmm, probably a little biased.
If you ask an America, they will say, THEY are the ones who are correct because hey, we all know that the USA kicks butt and the world bows to our every whim. The american will start ranting, in an increasingly annoying voice and at an uncontrolable volume, about how the french are weak (hell, we had to save them from the Germans how many times?), chain-smoking, american-hating jerks who just eat up american culture (so true). Heck, the american is surprised they haven't changed the name yet seeing as the French are all just american wannabes anyway.
So again, who is right, the American or the French? Both are right. The French Revolution did have a big impact, their wine is better, and they only good things that they have given us are Charles de Gaulle (the airport that is) and, well, let's not discuss their music. But, America did save them from the Germans, at least once, they are chain-smoking, and american-hating (though not all, and not all are jerks), and a lot of them are American wannabes. That brings us to the big question, sour cream or fresh cream. Well, it tastes neither fresh nor sour to me, so who really cares.
Conclusion of the day: My brain is filled with comparitive political institutions so my only conclusion is that minorities are highly unrepresented in political systems using unitary representation and non-proportional voting systems.