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January 29, 2006
Plump should never describe food
Derrick and I had brunch with this charming man and his boyfriend. Both of our boyfriends go to Columbia, both of us blog, we all like traveling.
Our topics drifted and meandered, as topics should at brunch on a Saturday.
Food arrived physically and conversationally. We discussed things that we don't like to eat.
Other blogger's boyfriend: Olives are my favorite thing in the world.
Me: I hate olives more than anything else in the world. Plus cooked raisins, pickles, hominy, and popcorn. I hate olives because of the taste, which I periodically try to see if I still hate. I show my true love to my boyfriend by scooping out cups of them at Fairway, which then permeate my nostrils for the rest of the shopping.
Raw raisins are okay, as is corn. However, do not attempt to cook or modify them, as it will FREAK ME OUT. Resurrected raisins remind me of bloated ticks, and the creepy sugary burst of them in my unsuspecting mouth in the midst of eating a cookie always reminds me of this nature show I watched where this young antelope died from blood loss due to tons of ticks. Some of this association could also be from the time I discovered HALF a cockroach in a cookie, or when my sisters used to chase me around the house with olives on their fingers until I puked, or, well, having to ever eat hominy.
I don't like hominy, but I'm okay with grits. Olive oil is fine, as long as the flavor isn't too strong. Cucumbers are fine, just don't soak them in brine and pickling stuff.
And please, always warn me if what I think is chocolate chip is actually raisin (or cockroach).
Posted by G at 03:07 PM | Comments (17) | TrackBack
January 27, 2006
Moments in eating
I make a lot of bad assumptions. I assumed that parachute pants would be fashionable forever. I assumed that everyone loves French fries dipped into a chocolate shake. I assumed that teaching kids would be easy.
I also assumed that I had an allergy to shrimp. Contrary to my boyfriend's assertions, I am not a major hypochondriac. One day, I will die, and then who was right? However, it won't be from shrimp. I did have facts to back this one up, I swear. I've had two major attacks about ten years ago while eating shrimp. When I worked at the steakhouse in college, my one time de-veining shrimp left my fingers a swollen wreck. My dad is seriously allergic to shrimp, so it made sense that this passed on to me.
I actually used this as one of my reasons to go to Uzbekistan, rather than some tropical paradise. I could have been on some beach, rather than in a broiling/freezing desert. I haven't touched shrimp, crab, lobster, clams, mussels, scallops, or octopi in ten years. It was stressful, especially over the last few years, as NYC has numerous shrimp/crustacean dishes.
My aunt encouraged me to go to an allergist. This is the same woman who also convinced me to engage in the time-saving process of ordering dogfood online. Also, the same woman who encourages me to try something new every day.
I tried something new- a deliberate search to find what could kill me. First, they did blood tests. Nothing. Then they did the stabbing test, where they put allergens on little needles and poke your back. I am basically allergic to nothing, especially not shrimp. Or at least they were 90% sure. For the final 10% certainty, they wanted me to eat shrimp in the doctor's office. The idea of eating lukewarm shrimp with an audience reminds me of business luncheons, so I never went back.
My aunt gave me scallops. So damned yummy, and they didn't kill me. She gave me a crab dish. So damned yummy, I could have ignored the rest of the dish. I tried everything, nothing killed me, and everything tasted good.
I finally tried shrimp. It didn't kill me, but I really wasn't wild about the taste, plus everyone at the table was quietly pretending not to watch me for any evidence of a reaction. After all of these years, I was hoping for more fireworks. Food just doesn't seem as fraught with danger now, which is probably why I've been eating so many bacon cheeseburgers at Jimbo's Famous Burgers in Harlem.
Posted by G at 06:57 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
January 25, 2006
LA Adventure
Dinner/Breakfast at 1 in the morning
Hollywood
Not your typical apartment in Harlem
Living the Crow song
The new beard, a new beach
Posted by G at 09:00 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
January 24, 2006
OHMYGAWD. OHMYGAWD. OHMYGAWD!
Our hotel was the set for a filming of West Wing (on in 5 weeks). All I saw was a bunch of camera equipment, but then suddenly I bumped into Janeane Garofalo wearing sweats and looking terrific, in a Mini-Me kind of way. She is so incredibly tiny, I have no idea how she packs that much sarcasm, wit, and talent into such a tiny body. I also saw the other characters (the guy who plays Josh is HOT), but I think I shall now stalk Jeanene in a really gay way. I hope I didn't come across too freaky as I was humping her tiny leg and telling her how much I love her. I actually just nodded when she said "excuse me" but I was totally humping her leg in my mind.
Of course our neighborhood back in NYC is constantly being used for Law and Order, but I don't worship any of the actors as brilliant minds. Plus Law and Order New York has a death toll that far exceeds NYC, as far as I can tell. I think it would be awesome to be a murdered person on Law and Order. My acting ability probably limits me to corpses, so I'm just ready to volunteer.
Posted by G at 05:39 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
January 23, 2006
Doggy Style
She is the greatest dog.
Posted by G at 09:19 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
California is for teachers
Our trip started badly. Our incoming flight was delayed because some person died and they had to stop in St. Louis.
So what exactly happens when you die in flight? Ignoring the weirdness of the living passenger who discovers the dead passenger, which would be quite awful. Depending on how smelly the death is, I would probably be fine sitting next to a dead person, as long as we could arrive on time at our destination and maybe I'd be able to get their snacks.
I'm more curious as to the whole death certificate thing. Who establishes the time of death, and more importantly, where is the place of death? Is the person's place of death just noted as "in the air," the origin, or the destination? I'm sure the same rules apply for births, but those are always messy and disgusting and I don't want to think of those.
Because of the dead guy, our flight was seriously delayed, so we didn’t arrive until midnight. I was worried, as the guy in India who worked for Travelocity told me that the car rental place closed at midnight, so I thought I was going to lose my convertible rental. Fortunately, the car rental was open 24 hours, so I got to have my convertible in LA. However, I then got a frantic call on the cell phone from the other teachers, as our hotel rooms had been bumped by our delay. The hotel solved the problem by relocating us back to a hotel near the airport, but this delayed us by a few more hours, plus we had to relocate at 7 a.m. to our original hotel.
It is now 2 a.m. in LA, 5 a.m. in NYC. I haven't eaten in 16 hours, so I decide to find food at Jack in the Box. Unfortunately for me, 3 other teachers also wanted food, so I became their taxi service. This would be okay, except sheep are easier to herd than tired teachers. I, in the infinite wisdom of 2 a.m. hunger pangs, decided to go for the Ciabatta Bacon Double Cheeseburger and the SEVEN count of Jalapeno Bites, which proved to be disastrous around 4 a.m.
The math conferences had a coffee bar, so I made it through the day. People thought I was in a religious fervor, I was merely highly wired on caffeine and sugar. GOD BLESS CAFFEINE.
Posted by G at 07:43 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
January 20, 2006
LALALALA
I'm in LA, by the way. Good lord, the tales I already have to tell.....
Posted by G at 10:44 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
The beard is back
Pogonophiles should be happy, as the beard is back. Some people might just call it a few days of lazy non-shaving, but I prefer to think of it as growing my full beard again. Since NYC hasn't exactly been freezing, the weather seemed to be pushing for the simple van dyke style goatee. However, the full beard is around for some time, as I enjoy seeing people get startled when I take my cap off. I would post pictures, but I'm also feeling really fat lately.
Did I not mention my ABSOLUTE FREAK OUT MELTDOWN before work a few days ago? No? Maybe that's because I tried to put on a pair of jeans that I normally don't wear, but seemed eminently wearable after almost three weeks of not doing laundry. I couldn't button them closed, so a gang of rampaging lemurs burst forth from the dark corner in my skull. None of them activated my vocal chords, but Derrick was silently viewing the entire event from the living room. I now have actual fat pants, which means that it is time for me to go to that strange one-syllable place.
The gym.
Posted by G at 10:41 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
January 17, 2006
ELA
Every middle school teacher knows what it stands for. English Language Arts. How can we call it arts? We test the hell out of it! Woo!
Today was the first of three days of high stakes testing at my school, and things don't bode well for the next two days. My school spends almost $3000 extra per student, but all of it is for test prep. State tests are now mandatory for 6,7, and 8th grade, and we tell the kids that what they score on the 7th grade test defines what high school they can attend, the 6th and 8th grade tests define advancement to the next grade.
Our school is a mess on days like this. So many of our kids look down at that piece of paper and realize that they are failures in the eyes of our society. They can't read, they can't write, and they definitely can't do arithmetic. Their lives are incrementally destroyed in 45 minute blocks, and we don't ever get to the roots of the problem.
This is what education is today, at least on a certain corner in Harlem.
Posted by G at 08:54 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
January 14, 2006
Time for sun and sand
There are benefits to working in a seriously screwed-up school.
If you're a math coach, they send you to California for training. Hollywood, to be exact. I leave Thursday afternoon, and I'll be wearing shorts before I go to bed. I won't come back into the cold until Sunday afternoon.
I haven't been there in 15 years, so any suggestions?
Posted by G at 10:46 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
January 13, 2006
These weren't in the dictionary
Everybody knows I was in Peace Corps in Uzbekistan. One of the particular difficulties of being an American in Samarkand (besides being gay and the ONLY man with a shaved head) was my pause word.
Some Americans use "er" or "uh." I use "um." Or at least, I used to.
Basically, I was saying "Pussy, pussy, pussy."
Posted by G at 07:52 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
January 11, 2006
Poster child for idiocy
I first heard it as a derogatory phrase when I moved to NYC. Someone commented about the idiot mouth breathers who voted for Bush, or some other event connected to stupid actions. I looked it up:
mouth-breather n. a stupid person; a moron, dolt, imbecile.
Wait a minute! I was vaguely horrified, as I am a serious mouth breather. It's not my fault, as my nose is so broken after fights with drunkards, softball games, and peripheral vision door impacts that it resembles a ski slope. The cartilage inside winds a serpentine route into my skull, essentially depriving me of a left nostril.
As long as I'm not congested, I can basically breathe through my nose, but add a wee bit of exertion and I'm suddenly looking like the Honorable Mention winner at the local Special Olympics (not that I wouldn't be proud to be in the Special Olympics).
I've become really self-conscious. I'm already from Texas, so I don't want anyone thinking I'm dumb enough to vote for Bush. My employment and driving choices lately show some stupid parts of my brain, but I'd rather not look stupid.
I was thinking about my appearance as I was walking to school the other morning. I attempted to just breathe through my nose for the 20 minute walk. By the time I was ten blocks into the walk, my face was scrunched up just trying to force air through my damaged septum. I was making this crazy wheezing sound, my pulse was pounding, and I was slightly dizzy. Finally just popped open my mouth for a lungful of proper air. Back to stupid, stupid.
I guess dumb-looking is going to be my fashion statement for 2006.
Posted by G at 08:01 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack
January 08, 2006
New Year Resolution
I resolve to avoid patches of ice on highways.
I resolve to crash fewer Mercedes into guard rails on the way back from Canada.
I resolve to avoid watching that stupid Allstate commercial showing car collision after car collision, as it just twists my stomach.
Other than that, the vacation was great.
Posted by G at 02:59 PM | Comments (19) | TrackBack