Going to Step on the Soapbox for A Minute...

Embarrassed to say my sister and I went to the school mentioned in this article in north Portland as kids. The article suggests that peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are now considered racist, because it excludes children who grew up in households that don't eat sandwiches (apparently a "white privilege food). So, looks like Portland Public Schools have gotten very focused on wasting time and resources to project a bunch of hate about a classic American FOOD, of all things.

The caviar of the cafeteria, apparently.

I'll be the first to say I was a privileged white kid, but that was because my mom was able to stay home, be involved in the PTA, and PACKED my lunch, not because of my lunch's content. For as much complaining as there is about diversity (or lack thereof), you'd think they would have kids bring their sandwich, bring their pita, and learn something about another culture. Why can't this just be an opportunity?

It makes me sad when I see Portland trying to be so politically correct that it's actually inhibiting education. "Hard work is the key to success," regardless of which culture coined it, is a pretty fucking good idea. And frankly- I don't think it's exclusively white. The "hardworking Mexican immigrant" stereotype didn't come from nowhere, and I know a lot of Asian kids who work their asses off. I have no problem paying taxes, but I have a problem with what we're apparently investing in. If this was teaching about the nutritional value of peanut butter sandwiches, I'd be much more open to backing that. But supporting some overly-sensitive douchebag with a communist agenda who thinks sandwiches are racist when they've cut arts, theater, and physical education programs? Come ON.




Mainly, the only thing I can take away from this article, is that kids in Portland will now find more reasons to use race as a crutch. By drawing attention to that difference and making it appear debilitating (as though sandwiches are somehow better than tortillas?) kids from another culture are going to feel more alienated, not more included. Because kids are mean. You can give them all the sensitivity training you want, but if you're the fat kid, you had better grow a thick skin.


All these kids are in the same public school with the same access to the same education. They're taught the same curriculum, formatted to the same standardized test. At some level, you have to take some responsibility for your own future. There are hard-working kids, there's lazy kids. There's smart kids, there's dumb kids. You can't standardize humanity. Maybe intelligence could be the diversity initiative they go after next? Just my thoughts.


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Something that Has Just Occured to Me...

It’s sort of occurred to me that I don’t think I want a boyfriend. All this time I’m constantly disappointed that I am on dates with guys that I don’t want to be in a relationship with, but really I’m not sure why I would want to be in one anyway. It's not them! It's me!

Here is a short list of the things I actually want a guy for:

- Provide emotional dumpster for me to blab about my boring day

- Cuddle partner when I am cold or lonely or whatever

- Always have a date for functions where you will be judged for not having one

- Occasional sex object

- Killing spiders and opening difficult jars and such

- Driving, if I ever have to go somewhere I can’t get to on public transit

…Aaaand that’s it! That is all I want! I don’t want to listen to his shit or have to constantly validate his manliness or meet his parents (they always hate me anyway). I don’t want to have arguments about where we spend the holidays and I don’t want to give up drinking with my girlfriends on weeknights so we can hang out. I will text him about my day and he can tell me I’m pretty and then we can possibly sleep together later. Perfect relationship...Or something. 

Basically everything this says to me is “Not ready for commitment.” 

Could I hire this person? Seems like a pretty low maintenance list. Perhaps a Craigslist posting for a part-time on-call boyfriend is in order...

Needle In the Haystack

Whoa! Exciting and important news! I actually met someone cool in NY. Just in time to have a date for 12/12/12, since the apocalypse surely must be near. We went out on a date that was actually fun last Friday, then hung out Sunday in the park, and went to a Phillies/ Mets game last night!

Background story: I actually met this guy about a year ago in the Newark airport coming back from Austin City Limits (a trip with my ex) and it was after 2 am. We bonded over the mutual frustration of taking NJ transit to the city late at night. It turns out he lived somewhat in my neighborhood, so we ended up taking the same train after we got back to NYC also, traded numbers, and hung out a couple of times back then. Since I was obviously dating someone else, nothing ever happened. We went to a movie (paid separately) and went to a couple of cool bars in the area. I was new and didn't have any friends, so this was helpful. (And also, this was pre-Ukranian stalker, so I was still open to hanging out with people I met in transit situations). So, we hung out a couple of times back then, then it sort of died.

BUT we were Facebook friends. So I sent him a rather boring "Happy birthday" sort of message the other day and was like "so we should do something again." And he was up for it- he ended up taking me out to dinner on Friday night, then after that we stopped at a birthday party for one of his friends. He walked me to the subway, gave me a goodnight kiss, and told me to text him when I got home. (He is actually a gentleman- pays for dinner, opens doors, requests some sort of confirmation that you didn't fall asleep and die post-date.)

Then Sunday he said we should grab something at Whole Foods and go to Central Park, so we did that. AMAZING people watching when the weather is nice. There is some sort of roller skate- dance party down there that we fully appreciated. Hard to say if my favorite was the guy dressed as a genie, balancing 3 water bottles on his head while slow motion roller skating or Ricky Super Star- who was rocking his obviously custom printed track suit that said "Ricky Super Star- Central Park". He was spinning a basketball on the end of a flag on a stick while roller skating. This is clearly a swoon-worthy date for all women.

Then we stopped at a grocery store, grabbed some dinner, and went back to his apartment. I was planning on staying for like 5 minutes (he was planning on eating, drinking a beer and watching football apparently) but then we got distracted and there was quite a bit of making out instead. But we're taking it slow-ish here. Kudos to him for trying though. He's funny about it.

He has this dry, sarcastic sense of humor, which is awesome. (As everyone knows, I mostly date guys who THINK they're funny and are not as cool as they think they are.) Examples: This guy, while running late for the date on Friday, sent me a text: "The train isn't running, so I'm coming on horseback." Post-date as he's walking me to the subway: "This was fun. We should do this again. How about in May? That's only 6 months next time. I like taking things REALLY slowly." While walking through the park watching the artists: "I think I would be a great artist if all people looked like stick figures and all the trees were Christmas trees." While making out on his bed back at his apartment "So we should probably stop here and eat dinner... but, just so you know, I always eat dinner in the shower. Makes dishes easier." <-- that was his smooth attempt to not take things as slowly.

Last night, after some additional amazing people watching at the baseball game, I went back to his place. Still taking it semi-slowly though! And by that I mean I didn’t sleep with him. Yet. There was some partial nudity and some substantial fooling around though.  I’m wearing the same outfit to work as yesterday, in classic Hot Mess Thursday fashion, except for a new shirt that I bought this morning at Ann Taylor (who is apparently having a “Life-Saver” sale, in which they opened at 8 am). I would say I am disguising myself as not doing the walk of shame, except that I have not showered, and I’m fairly certain that my disheveled braid is at least partially being held together by cum from last night’s dating experiences.

Pretty much my look today.

He’s not exactly the type I usually go for, but this can’t possibly be a bad thing. He’s got buzz cut hair instead of shaggy, is not some sort of artistic/ performer type, and he’s Jewish (although he says "Jewish like the Olive Garden is Italian.") Just going to see how things go, but I'm excited that I'm enjoying the romantic company of someone who isn’t just a giant douchebag. 

Also, he apparently has what I will refer to as “sleep tourettes,” which is highly amusing. He explained to me that he only shouts obscenities in his sleep when he’s fighting with someone in his dreams. Last night’s occasional “No! Fuck YOU!” was apparently directed at his older sister.

Excited to see how this goes, obviously.

The Importance of Reading ALL the Directions

I have a cold.

Usually, I would take the normal person’s route of simply lying in bed, sleeping, drinking water and eating chicken soup. 

But this week I learned about fire cider, an immediate cure for the common cold.

My boss swears by it, so I thought “well, it’s natural. It’s probably not going to hurt anything.” Apparently it is available at Whole Foods and the like (of which there is none in Bed-Stuy. I live in the capital of fried chicken and pizza distribution.) Given this inconvenience, I thought I might make my own.

What I was SUPPOSED to do.

Google’s recipe for fire cider, according the website I went to:

• 1.5 oz cayenne pepper
• 1.5 oz ancho pepper
• 1.5 oz ginger powder
• 1.5 oz onion powder
• Half a head of peeled garlic cloves
• 2 inches of ginger root, sliced
• Enough organic apple cider vinegar to fill quart jar.

Given my cooking abilities, I obviously didn’t have half that shit. So I thought I would substitute- put a bunch of spicy stuff together, and drink it. 

My recipe, as it was just consumed: 

•  1 clove of garlic, minced 
•  1 tsp of cayenne pepper
•  A few dashes of Sriracha 
• Pinch of oregano 
• Fill the rest of shot glass with apple cider vinegar 
• Drink concoction.

 Unfortunately, I didn’t read the rest of the directions from Google’s recipe until after I had already consumed mine:

“Put all of these ingredients in a quart jar, shake vigorously, and let sit (brewing) for 2 weeks. Take 1-2 teaspoons in some water. Chase with milk to kill the burn.”

…Brew for 2 weeks? Take 1 TEASPOON?! 

I took this about 10 minutes ago and I definitely feel 10X worse. Intestines on fire, nose still running. Next time I’m just going to make the journey to a health food store. Or stick to chicken soup.

Fashion Flashback

Since it’s fashion week in NY, I guess I’ll do a “fashion” post. Obviously, it will not be instructional in anything except possibly what not to wear. 

Hipster Ariel.

Today I saw a girl walking through the Court Square subway stop wearing a shirt that reminded me of myself, circa 2001-2005. It had a picture of a group of nuns on it that said “All the Single Ladies.” I would guess, had “Single Ladies” been written when I was in highschool, I probably would have worn a shirt like that. I always wore shirts that had what I thought were funny/ironic slogans. I had one that said “I think, therefore, I’m single.” (Shockingly, this did not cause a line of eligible bachelors to form at my door on Friday nights). I had another one that said “Club sandwiches, not seals” and had a picture of a sandwich on it. (I suppose the most funny/ironic part of that shirt was that I bought it at Abercrombie & Fitch- not one of the most animal-rights activist companies out there, to my knowledge.) I even had one that said “One Night Stand” and had a picture of a nightstand on it. (This was my mom’s least favorite shirt that I ever owned, and again, the irony is not as much in the double entendre, but more in that I’m pretty sure I was still a virgin while wearing it.)

Although I’m scarcely doing any better with wardrobe items now, (see post from May 11 where I discuss the problems of wearing confidence-building sweater-pants) I do own a couple of nice pieces. This is mainly due to my sister, who is probably waiting for my wardrobe to become a tax write off as a charity case. Last Christmas, for example, she bought me a beautiful Kate Spade purse. It’s black, leather, basic. Sort of a nice way to ease into fashion gradually, since, for the most part, $300 bags don’t go with $6 shoes from Rite Aid.  

However, my purse is also serving dual functionality as my lunchbox for work from time to time. I don’t do it to be defiant - it’s just practical. I’m sure that no one would guess that this morning’s purse contents also included a meatloaf sandwich held together by a rubber band. But fashion is all a business of illusion anyway... right? And I have the sassiest lunchbox in NYC!