Your Secretary is Not a Toy

Can This Marriage Be Saved?

2010-05-16T10:04:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, while reading the NYT Vows column, you can spot issues that are sure to pop up in the couple's relationship down the line. Like, "the bride and groom both graduated from Harvard, the bride summa cum laude." So the groom graduated with no undergraduate honors at all? Intellectual mismatch!!! (obvi)

Instant Gratification

2010-05-11T23:38:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Things I Ate That I Love and also, arguably, by altruism, I am sharing my Top Ramen alternative. Not that it's ramen, exactly, because it is definitely not, but it's Top Ramen-like in that it's vaguely Asiatic and cheap and fast and comforting. That last is also arguable because I've never actually eaten it with anyone around and maybe it's actually really gross and I don't realize it. Having just had some, though, I feel pretty confident that it's reasonably tasty. Also, it's better for you than Top Ramen.

"Chinese" noodle soup

1 bundle of cellophane noodles
1/2 cube of chicken bouillon
1 and 1/2 cups (ish?) boiling water
soy sauce (liberal)
rice vinegar (liberal)
hot chili oil (liberal)

Put noodles in a bowl. Crumble the bouillon, add everything else. Pour in boiling water, and cover for a minute or two. Uncover and stir--at this point, the noodles should be very al dente, and the bouillon fully dissolved. Eat.

No Good Deed Goes UnPUNished

2010-05-06T08:27:00.000-07:00

If I ran a coffee shop, I would have a second "tip jar" next to the regular tip jar, complete with a pile of paper scraps and a bunch of little golf pencils. Then, in addition to some change for my awesome latte and good cheer, people could leave me bits of advice/expertise/heads up.

They Don't

2010-05-04T00:03:00.001-07:00

I'm obsessed with the NYT Vows column, mostly to verify weekly that a) I am still young and b) that, unlike my own parents, people apparently sometimes marry people they did not meet in college. My Vows binges have also lead me to realize that some relationships will never make it into the column:

When the couple met at a party thrown by mutual friends, the bride recalls feeling an instant kinship, but quickly ruled out romance. "I was so comfortable around him, but I was sure he was gay," she laughs.

Sparks flew with their initial meeting, but there was a hitch: "in the morning, I couldn't remember her name!" The groom, no stranger to factchecking, was relieved to discover a stack of magazines in the bathroom. "I checked the address label. Thank goodness for Harpers!"

Infatuated, the bride attended her new boyfriend's improv show. Afterward, the couple faced their first roadblock. "He wasn't funny," she says. "Not at all. I spent the second act wondering what I could possibly say to him after."

Bitching

2010-04-19T18:53:00.000-07:00

In her review of Elizabeth Gilbert's recent marriage memoir/ethnography, Committed, Ariel Levy quips that "one generally doesn’t indulge another person’s emotional processing at this length unless the jabbering is likely to conclude with sex."

Well put.

And, with a few minor alterations, it pretty much sums up my current feelings toward all conversations with pet owners. Specifically, except in the early phases of infatuation during which everything about you is adorable, I don't care about your pet. I don't. I totally believe that your animal is soulful, hilarious, endearing, and brilliant--I bet I'd even like him/her/it in person--but your furry anecdotes aren't making your case. Unless I am so smitten that I've twisted your boyhood love of your dog/cat/fish into evidence that you are capable of such depth of feeling for me, this conversation is boring.

I'm not sure why pets make such uniquely dull conversation, but they really do, and I wish Vogue's Jeffrey Steingarten would stop spending his glossy pages covering the antics of "Sky King," his Manhattanite Golden Retriever. A few months ago, Sky King was featured prominently in a column ostensibly about living on take out. In the April issue, we're treated to Sky King's encounter with stevia, an up-and-coming artificial sweetener. While I haven't read Steingarten's culinary self-portrait, It Must Have Been Something I Ate, the NYT review assures me that Sky King plays an important role here, too. It's boring, it's grating, and I wish he'd ditch the dog tales. His elementary school experience, his wife, his apartment--I have an endless appetite for the details of other people's personal lives. But not their pets.

Appropriate Apparel

2010-04-12T12:29:00.000-07:00

Because it is officially spring, and because it is almost-almost warm enough to legitimately do so, I'm wearing a sundress today. It seems to be attracting a lot of male attention. I wish I could revel in this, feeling either attractive and desirable or offended and self-righteous. Instead, I can't shake the certainty that they're all thinking, "that's a little summer-y for mid-April."

I was wrong

2010-04-06T12:54:00.000-07:00

Okay okay okay. I liked holding the contrarian view that 30 Rock isn't actually that good, but after 13 episodes in two days, I concede. 30 Rock is great. And like everyone else, I think I'd be really great friends with Liz Lemon, too.

Bucket List

2010-03-29T01:17:00.000-07:00

After watching a lot of romantic comedies and relationship-centric serial dramadies, I can only say that I really hope at some point I am meaningfully trapped in an elevator with a Very Meaningful Person.

Blech

2010-03-06T17:08:00.001-08:00

Either it's Emily Gould's confessional influence talking, or the fact that I'm in this city virtually alone, and since "breaking up," I have no one to share such musings with (pathetic pathetic pathetic), but I'm gonna say it:

Last night, at age 24, I threw up from drinking for the first time. I'd had, over the course of maybe 5 hours, 3 drinks. I'd also eaten virtually nothing and cried a lot. This is perhaps also pathetic, but as the vomit was real, the milestone has been achieved.

Mistakes Were Made

2010-03-05T18:50:00.000-08:00

I tried really hard to believe that dating someone who loves Funny Ha Ha was a good idea. I mean, you can't judge based on shallow and arbitrary taste-criteria, can you?

Maybe I should have.

three...two...one...

2009-12-29T22:53:00.001-08:00

As I contemplate the changing of the years, it is hard not to be overcome with regrets of 2009, soon to be cemented in history. I tell myself: the "year" is an arbitrary demarcation of time. The discontinuity between 12/31 and 1/1 is totally illusory. Right? Yes. Yes.

And then I realized: THIS is why people drink on New Year's Eve.

Mass Migration

2009-11-25T15:45:00.001-08:00

In honor of holiday travel season, The Daily Beast ranks the nations best and worst airports. I don't really fly enough to persuasively agree or disagree with their findings, but their survey did give me a chance to reflect on my recent docking history. For example, Atlanta's Hartfield-Jackson comes in 25th out of 27, better than Miami, Newark, and...well, that's it. The survey, obviously, does not take into account the deliciousness of Atlanta Bread Company. Philadelphia comes in near the bottom, too, ranking 23rd, but--and I feel I must be misunderstanding something here--it places 2nd (best?) for amenities. Unless "amenities" is code for "soft pretzels," I'm not quite sure what they're referring to here. It was nice to see Detroit make the top 5, beating out many otherwise-more evolved cities. Unfortunately, the Detroit airport may be best used to get oneself out of Detroit.

Brace Yourself

2009-11-13T10:21:00.000-08:00

Chicago appears to be full of boutique dental offices with punny names. A fraction of the options within walking distance: Sugarfix, Brushin' on Belmont, Always There Dental Care, In Smyle.

Best in Show

2009-10-09T10:39:00.000-07:00

Until Bo Obama wins Westminster, I'm unimpressed.

(not to discredit Obama's achievement--just pointing out there are more frontiers to conquer)

NYU '13

2009-10-05T23:55:00.000-07:00

When Gossip Girl took place in high school, I loved it. Now that they're at NYU, I feel strangely threatened.

Pantine Pro-V

2009-10-04T12:05:00.001-07:00

I am taking an on-camera commercial acting class. A lot of the course time is spent watching and critiquing ourselves on film. I am learning a lot. The main lesson I have learned thus far is that I need a haircut.

Beauty School Drop Out

2009-09-24T19:57:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow night, a friend from college is having a party. He is wonderful. Part of me would very much like to go. The other part of me would rather die.

Daddy's Girl

2009-09-19T23:05:00.000-07:00

attn: Elizabeth Wurtzel: "Sylvia Plath with an ego," while perhaps accurate, is not a compliment*

*better yet: "way less talented Sylvia Plath with an ego"

Dead Soles

2009-08-10T07:14:00.000-07:00

Unexpectedly, gold ballet flats were the most practical shoes I owned.

Catch-212

2009-07-28T19:39:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking very seriously about leaving New York. I'm not one of those people who is in the throes of a passionate love affair with the city: it's cold and status-conscious and mean; the pace condones, if not encourages, jerkiness; groceries and food and rent and movies seem to cost what they're worth, times two. I hate it here. And yet, there is a problem with every other American metropolis: it's not New York.

Me, Myself, and Mnouchkine

2009-07-20T13:34:00.000-07:00

I saw Ariane Mnouchkine's Les Ephemeres at Lincoln Center Armory last week. After four years coerced into singing her endless praises, part of me was hoping for a let down (she's not that great). No luck. It was amazing.

I went alone. It ought to be liberating to go to something so decadent alone; instead, it was profoundly lonely. Still, there's something to be said for being freed from the obligations of companionship: it's nice not to care whether or not it was good for you, too.

Fresh Fruits and Vegetables

2009-07-18T18:47:00.000-07:00

Conventional wisdom says that you shouldn't go grocery shopping when you're hungry. A sensible adage that ought to prevent impulse purchasing. However, there is something more dangerous than shopping while hungry: shopping with a craving. This is how, for example, I ended up with a refrigerator stuffed with nothing but fruit. And in the freezer? fruit-flavored Popsicles. I'm hungry.

Cheers!

2009-07-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

I know it's gauche (despite its brief comeback the summer of 2008), but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it:

I really like rosé.

[the fast and the] FURIOUS

2009-07-08T12:06:00.001-07:00

Premise One: I am concerned that my super thinks my lease is up August 1. He has apparently been giving out the key to brokers so they can begin showing the apartment. A month early. With no warning. I am very angry. And very nervous we're going to have to whip out the contract in order to prove we get to stay here (granted the privilege?) of staying here UNTIL THE END OF THE LEASE. Which, with our super, will definitely be a pleasure.

Premise Two: Starting now, I need to keep this place immaculate. For two months. I am...not really...an immaculate person.

Conclusion: I hate Rapid Realty. I hate my super (nothing new here). Increasingly, I hate my apartment, which is over-priced--if only we'd known better--and tiny and poorly designed and at least 30 degrees overheated year-round. I have to keep reminding myself that this does not mean I hate New York.

The Pursuit of Happiness

2009-07-04T21:31:00.000-07:00

I am a big fan of secular holidays, but Thanksgiving is stressful and Valentine's Day is fraught. The 4th of July and Groundhog's Day, however, are reasons to celebrate.

Today's events did raise one question: if you know you are plunging into the thick of a huge crowd--say, for example, the masses watching fireworks by the river--why would you bring your GIGANTIC dog?

This Too Shall Pass

2009-07-01T05:43:00.000-07:00

If I lived in a basement apartment, it would be less hot. If I lived in a basement apartment, I'd have few windows and no light. Two ineffective fans per single room later, I'd be willing to live in a cave.

Gilded Lilies

2009-06-29T20:57:00.000-07:00

On the subway yesterday, it hit me: I am beginning to resent middle-aged women. I know this is the height of misogyny. [The sense of disgust of older women is so deeply entrenched in Hollywood that even when the role is specifically for an older woman, no one wants to see an actual older woman on screen, writes Hadley Freeman in The Guardian.]. Still, I can't help it.

In my defense, my feelings don't extend to all ladies of a certain age: it's a special breed of women I keep encountering who are unwilling to cede their now-faded youth to the young. They are the Gertrude-aged actresses auditioning for Juliet. They are the aggressive shoppers fighting high school girls for ironically acid-washed jeans at Top Shop.

Despite it being an almost-constant hindrance, my youth is allegedly one of the few things I have going for me. Can't they let me have even that?

He Does WHAT and Lives WHERE?

2009-06-06T12:31:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows there are two topics of conversation at parties in New York: Where do you live and what do you do? I didn't realize, though, that there are apparently also only two topics of conversation between friends: Where other people live and what other people do.

The Sidewalks of New York

2009-06-04T22:39:00.000-07:00

The weather is [mostly] warm; the sky is [often] sunny. This can only mean one thing: the street canvassers have come out of hiding. They are everywhere, and they are coming for you. I will cross the street. I will talk on my phone. Once I was walking through Union Square sobbing. But there is no obstacle too large for the canvasser. They will find you, they will block your path, they will follow you down the street. I have never been physically attacked, though I feel it coming.

And the thing is, I have canvassed. I, of all people, should have sympathy for my fellow soldiers doomed to a life of liberal causes. I should have sympathy, but I don't. My bleeding heart has turned to ice. Common manners no longer apply. It is a matter of survival--one must escape or risk the consequences.

I <3 My Cat

2009-05-29T04:35:00.000-07:00

Lesson from house-sitting: if you live in a studio apartment and you have two cats, the cats never. go. away. Ever. You have one room. They have one room. Unfortunately, it is the same room. Goodbye privacy, goodbye productivity, hello Fancy Feast.

Crash

2009-03-31T04:24:00.001-07:00

Sometimes when I am walking in midtown, I find myself an obstacle in someone else's trajectory: unless one of us steps aside, we will crash. When I first moved here, I was always the one to move. Then I got angry. Why do I have to be the one to move. I began to mow past people in my path. Sometimes they moved. Mostly, I bumped into them. What, you expect me to move? I always move. You should move!

Then I realized everybody else probably thinks the same thing.

Paper v Plastic

2009-02-25T15:02:00.000-08:00

Easy grocery shopping is the best argument for the suburbs yet.

A Syllogism

2009-02-12T21:02:00.000-08:00

If you are not in college and you are not tipsy, then you are rudely awakened: Top Ramen really isn't very good.

Old Dog, New Tricks

2009-02-04T15:09:00.000-08:00

In other news, I am trying to train myself out of the apparently outdated habit of double spacing between sentences. These were the parting words of my former editor, and as we enter a new year and a new administration, it seems a perfect time to enact new typographical habits.

Update 7/1/09: Success.

Audition Technique

2009-01-09T21:51:00.000-08:00

I do not understand showing up to an audition dressed for clubbing. At my first NYC audition, I showed up wearing dance pants and a fitted t-shirt. I thought it'd be important to be able to move. Wrong. Apparently it is more important to be femme. Heels. Skirts. Stockings. This was shocking to me. So heels, skirts, stockings it is. But must I really vamp it up with leggings and a low cut sweater that debatably functions as a dress and high heeled boots? Because I can do that. Or after a trip to H&M, I could do that. But are you serious?

Red/Green Colorblind

2009-01-07T18:15:00.000-08:00

I think more coffee shops should give some kind of discount for getting their coffee in a mug rather than a paper cup. Think's mugs are equivalent to a medium paper cup. The cost: exactly the same. I wish they'd charge for a small rather than coerce the in-store drinker to spend more, but I understand. These are tough times. Still, couldn't there be a tiny discount in the interest of environmentalism? 10 cents off, save the polar bears.

Trade Winds

2008-12-28T09:47:00.000-08:00

Upon leaving Trader Joe's by Union Square, you feel as though you've accomplished some great feat. You have fought for your food. You have been yelled at by angry buyers of clementines. You have dodged twenty carts careening toward you with no regard for your safety. You have waited in line for what feels like hours and you have survived. And then, back out on the street, hard-won bags in hand, you realize: all you've done is buy your yuppie groceries.

Strangely Comforting

2008-11-25T06:07:00.000-08:00

The Hills is excellent evidence that even really, really beautiful people get treated really, really badly by their significant others.