Strongly Worded

Hasta La Vista

So I leave on Wednesday for Mexico and tomorrow will be consumed with work, packing, and so forth. Because I know you will miss me horribly while I'm gone (back on 3/10!), here's a roundup of some fun and/or interesting old posts.

Walk with me, if you will, down memory lane, and reminisce about the time when ...

... a new co-worker challenged my progressive values.

... I declared my unwavering love of waffles.

... I got crazily anxious before a date. (This really truly doesn't happen anymore.)

... I theorized that I'm really a rhythmic gymnast, cheered on by my team.

... I dated Danny K. from The Apprentice.

... I dated an Insensitive Surgeon The First (I subsequently dated a different surgeon.).

... I analyzed my generation's obsession with fancy food.

... I (eventually) stood up to my brother.

... I reflected on whether to "come out" about my seizure disorder.

... I went postal around Christmastime, when confronted with Santa Stamps.

Posted by Dori at 6:20 PM 3 comments

Jesus Camp is Very Chilling. Brrr.

If you haven't already seen it, you must immediately netflix Jesus Camp, a documentary about the Evangelical movement's (90 million strong!) "work" with children. I had no idea that 75% of home-schooled kids are evangelicals, and that they pledge daily allegiance to the "Christian Flag" and read textbooks that refute the notion of global warming and cast the founding fathers as men of God, first and foremost. I also had no idea that these kids are trained to proselytize and deliver customized spiels to "Tara the Typical" , "Jenna the Jew", and/or "Marty the Mormon".

And I definitely had no idea that the top leaders of this movement have a weekly teleconference with George Bush.

Posted by Dori at 4:56 PM 5 comments

A Bewildering Shopping Trip

So you know how it's really hard to accept an empty tube of toothpaste? You keep squishing and squeezing the tube, insisting to yourself that there is still more minty fresh goodness to be had? I did this for the last two weeks, because I am lazy and hate the supermarket/drugstore. I pulled a similar stunt with the laundry detergent, swishing water in the bottle to extract the last dregs, and stealing a supplemental scoop from my neighbor. Also I made half a batch of cookies (since I lacked sufficient butter), tacos with chickpeas (no black beans remaining), and sautees with corn oil (olive oil was long gone).

Over the weekend I finally bought toothpaste, laundry detergent, dryer sheets, and food. The toothpaste display was truly crazy. I encountered at least a billion permutations of flavors and styles. Crest alone makes Pro-Health, Whitening, Cavity Protection, Tartar Protection, Sensitive Teeth, MultiCare, Baking Soda, Gels, Liquid Gels, Pastes, Striped, and Kids' products. Also: so many flavors! Lemon ice, vanilla mint, fresh mint, strong mint, gentle mint, and cinnamon blast. Also camembert, chipotle ranch, and mango. (Just kidding.) I stood there for a long time trying to buy normal mint-flavored toothpaste and ended up with a revolting cinammon flavor that I promptly returned.

And the dryer sheet selection? No picnic either. Sheets that smell like Febreze, Linen Breeze, Outdoor Fresh, or nothing (they are Fragrance Free). Sheets with varying scent strengths. Seriously. They have a scent-o-meter on the front of the box with a 1-5 scale. I bought Linen Breeze, rated #3. I put one sheet in my closet and one in my dresser. Two dryer sheets, people. And now the entire bedroom, hallway, and bathroom reek of Linen Breeze. It is nauseating. I had to stash those puppies in the basement. I can only imagine the strength of the #5 sheets.

When did life get so complicated?

Posted by Dori at 10:42 AM 3 comments

More Technical Difficulties

So sorry for the long lapse between posts. I’ve been computer-less for the last week. Remember how delighted I was, when I took my laptop into the $89 place? It seemed so lucky and so affordable. My laptop got allegedly fixed, and I was so grateful that I told the guy I’d recommend him to all my friends. Then I went home and booted up the computer and it was so extremely slow, much slower than ever. I took it back, of course, and they’re remediating the problem, but I have been seriously thinking about getting a Mac. (So LeRoy, I may be following up with you.) The moral of the story: boot up the computer before you leave the repair place.

I would have posted from work, but I attended work rather intermittently last week. A crazy Nor’easter also wreaked some havoc. We got only 3-4 inches of slushy rain/snow/sleet, but it froze into treacherous ice floes. My car got wedged in the ice. I had to call Triple A to dislodge it. And also I fell on my ass.

Some cool things happened, too. I attended a lovely, lovely Shabbat dinner at my friend A.D.’s home. She and her husband and her new baby live in this stunning condo. The dining room is painted a rich chocolate brown and the vaulted detailed ceiling is a sort of aquamarine. It sounds a little strange but it is so, so beautiful. A.D. made a delicious dinner which included a silky, gelato-like beet and walnut spread. (I want the recipe!) It was cold and evil and dark outside, but we enjoyed a haven of warmth, good food, and good company. I also enjoyed a daytrip to Rockport with other beloved friends.

A more interesting post is forthcoming!

Posted by Dori at 10:09 AM 5 comments

Technically Transmitted Diseases

Recently, my Norton Anti-Virus spat out a big scary “threat alert”. Apparently my poor (home) computer is infested—not with any old virus, but with a Trojan horse. Root-kit. A bad one.

While the Norton website seemed pretty cavalier about the whole businesses, recommending a simple registry restore, I wanted professional intervention. Any contact with the registry seemed fraught with peril. Plus, the computer has suffered from spyware and is thus slow and annoying and needs to be reformatted.

I looked on yelp for a recommended computer place, and found datboys. The name sounded hip, so I took my laptop in and one of the datboys spent a long time trolling through the innards of my machine. (He noted that he usually charges $70/hr for a diagnosis.) “Yep. This is Root-kit. Yep. It’s bad. Yep, all of your data is floating out there on the internet somewhere. Yep. Even if you reformatted the directory, there’s no guarantee that it would be gone.”

Finally he pronounced that I absolutely needed various technological interventions which would cost about $350. I gasped. Three hundred and fifty dollars? The computer only cost about $600. Yep, he said, and then went off on how his car had recently undergone $2,000 of repairs even though its sales price was about that. I told him I’d think about the situation. Maybe I’d just get another computer.

His eyes widened and he cautioned me about the evils of Vista and how it was impossible to avoid Vista and that Vista would essentially ruin my life.

I left, cradling my sick laptop in my arms. I felt sick myself. I called another computer repair place. “Oh yeah, a disk reformatting?” the guy said. “That’s $89 – a little more if you want data restoration.”

Yep. That sounds a little more reasonable.

Posted by Dori at 4:59 PM 3 comments

El Crunch-ito

As you may remember, the relatively recent addition to my staff (New Guy), is brilliant and nice and also a crunch-ster. He eschews Dunkin' Donuts in favor of Fair Trade coffee; he will only consume the meat of animals that have roamed free (wild but not farmed salmon; duck but not chicken).

I brought up my upcoming trip to the Mexican cooking school, thinking he'd be impressed. After all, what could be more culturally appreciative than learning to prepare a indigenous-based dishes, supporting local agriculture, and consuming artisanal products?

Turns out NG has visited Oaxaca. "Oh, right," he said, "There is a cooking school there, I remember now. It's run by an American, right?"

Yes, I conceded, in shame. I will be patronizing a gringa enterprise for six nights. I thought back to the cooking school I could have chosen, the one run by a Mexican woman with an aol email address, who has been refining her culinary skills since age nine. (Which you could argue is child labor ...)

Another co-worker sauntered over and asked NG whether he had consumed street food during his stay. "I'll bet you did!" And yes, turns out NG has Intestines of Steel. He also has cultural street cred, since, it turns out, he spent all this time in the basements of revolutionary feminist mariachis.

Whereas I've signed up for a week of van rides, sunscreen, and purified drinking water.

Posted by Dori at 10:04 AM 1 comments

For What It's Worth

Over dinner with my friend A. and her husband (J.), I discussed my pink iPod and the delight it has brought into my life. I said that it’s intriguing (and also a little scary) to own something worth stealing. I'm always checking to make sure it's safely stowed away. Odd, since I own few (if any) other items that a random stranger would want.

I mentioned my resolve to hook myself up with renter's insurance, which I have been meaning to do for the last seven years. Last week I finally requested a quote. The lady asked what size policy I want. I conducted a mental inventory of my “valuable” stuff. I own a tiny jewelry collection (the value of which is almost entirely sentimental). Furniture. A TV and DVD player from the 1990s. A laptop from 2003. A fridge. All of which could be sold on craigslist for a grand total of probably $1,500. I told the lady that I’d like a policy for $5,000, and she laughed. The policies start at $20,000. I understand that if, God forbid, my earthly possessions were all damaged by flood or fire, it would cost way more than $1,500 to replace them. And I also get that if, God forbid, someone were injured in my home, I could spend many thousands of dollars for legal/medical costs (although it’s unclear whether these would be my or my landlady’s responsibility).

J. pointed out that nobody would bother suing me for damages, because I don’t have enough money or stuff to make it worthwhile. I didn’t realize that lack of wealth exempts one from lawsuits, but it’s a comforting thought. We mulled this over for a while, and for some sick reason I felt the need to justify my sue-worthiness. I said: “My car! They could sue me and make me sell my car and give them the proceeds!” Then I acknowledged that my car is a 2000 Honda Civic. Adorable as it may be, it's no cash cow.

I've been writing a whole lot about whether I'm materialistic or not, and how important it is (or isn't) to own stuff. The renter's insurance puts it somewhat in perspective.

In the eyes of the law, my having an iPod or a Crate & Barrel table--or even a car-- is completely immaterial.

Posted by Dori at 10:35 AM 3 comments

$45,000, Seven Moles, and 729 Songs

I know you'll be shocked to learn that the rage, frustration, and worry have mostly subsided.

The $40,000 that was owing has been deposited. (And we got an extra $5K for some reason. And I'm letting sleeping dogs lie.)

The mother-daughter Mexican cooking school trip is on! I made executive flight decisions after spending roughly 7 billion years on Orbitz, and then the airline websites of Delta, Aviacsa, and Mexicana. Now I am tackling the accommodations, which, thanks to Tripadvisor reviews, is difficult. After booking what seems a perfectly lovely room in a perfectly lovely place, I read online reviews spewing contradictory information: apparently this place is "a gem -- a perfect place in a perfect location" but it's also "noisy", "poorly managed" and "the worst hotel in Mexico City."

Big Important Decisions are still in the works, but I've heard encouraging words, and those are salve on the big ugly gash of disappointment. Knowing that I'll soon be in the land of the seven moles helps too.

And all's right with the car service contract.

Additional good things:

Remember how I'm not complaining in 2007, because of my New Year's Resolution? In the words of my co-worker: "you really do complain noticeably less, because you point out every complaint-worthy thing and then rephrase your comment as an observation."

Also: I got my hair cut. (It doesn't look much different, but it's no longer shaggy in the back.) The stylist asked me if I've ever colored my hair. I rolled my eyes because stylists on many occasions have suggested highlights, and this has always seemed to me an expensive and time-consuming enterprise. "Well," said Carlo, (the new love of my life), "Don't ever do it. People pay money for your color. It's a nice shiny dark brown, and it's not mouse-y at all." That is far and away the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.

The last nice thing I will mention is that I have uploaded over 700 songs onto my iPod. I have also spent a few million years removing duplicates and making sure all the song names appear in consistent Title Case. I acknowledge that this is sick and also deeply satisfying. I don't think the shuffle feature works too well, though. It seems that the same songs pop up way too often. If anyone has suggestions on this, let me know.

That's all for now.

Posted by Dori at 9:54 AM 2 comments