Baby Steps.

It's early, but I'm going out on a limb and saying that the word of the year for 2009 will be "Transparency." I hear someone mention it everyday. Although, Merriam-Webster's Word of the Year in 2007 was "woot" so what do I know?

w00t (interjection)

expressing joy; similar in use to the word "yay"

w00t! I won the contest!

In these times of uncertainty following an era of secrecy and shady deals, Transparency is the amazing out-of-town guest we can't wait to introduce to everyone.

"Transparency! So glad to see you! I don't think you know Wall Street or any of the major banks."

"No, I don't believe I do."

"Hi."

"Have you met Government? Local, State, Federal?"

"Perhaps briefly. Did I see you under oath that one time?"

"Hello."

"You'll have to excuse Big Business. He really wants nothing to do with you."

"I get it. That whole, 'You don't want to know how your sausage is made' kind of thing?"

"Exactly."

I'm always hopeful when Obama talks about transparency for the stimulus. It's just a good idea to put the truth out there. Plus, it benefits everyone to know how, where, and when the BILLIONS of dollars are spent. Recovery.gov is the website meant to be the "centerpiece" of the effort for transparency and accountability. Woot! Transparency! Woot! Accountability! These a big words! So what do they mean exactly?

So far, this is the money info we have on recovery.gov.

OK, well it's a nice chart. To the point. I'd like to learn more and conveniently, there's a "Learn more" link which brings me to this:

Hmm, this information seems vaguely familiar.

And maybe it's just me but I'm usually worried by an "Other" category. 8 billion dollars for "Other." Is "Other" party supplies? Because that'd be a lot.

This is the first effort to ever do anything like this so I'm willing to give recovery.gov time. But fingers crossed that the next installment of transparency isn't just these same numbers in a pie chart and pictograph. OK, just kidding. I love pictographs.

Don't Let A Cheese Hit Me.

The Amazing Race never disappoints. I'm sort of obsessed with it for three reasons.

1) Travel turns people into the truest versions of themselves.

2) Whenever I'm lost I like to pretend that I'm on the show. And I'm pretty horrible with directions so I get to do this a lot. Once when attending a friend's wedding outside of Vancouver I was so terribly lost and thought I might miss the whole thing so I basically stopped and asked every person in BC for directions. One woman ran over to me, poked her head into the car to look in the backseat and asked with excitement, "Is this for The Amazing Race?!" I was so upset at the time I was like, "No!" but deep down I was like, "Unofficially, yes. Yes it is."

3) The show explores what I think is the fundamental question faced by humans in every culture: How should we waste our time? I love that every country, small town, or village has their own answer.

The premiere episode of season 14 aired last night and the contestants were given the task of bringing 200 pounds of cheese down a steep hill. Why the cheese makers don't store the cheese at the bottom of the hill to begin with was not discussed. However, I was pleased to learn that the combination of cheese wheels and steep hills should be added to the list of things I find amusing.

You See?!

I deleted the original post I wrote explaining my history with wild animal sightings because I got tired of people making fun of me. But here's a rundown if you're unfamiliar:

- Two summers ago, while eating breakfast on the deck at my parents' house, I saw what I thought was a mountain lion in the apple orchard. I alerted everyone at the table and as the large cat came closer to the house, I yelled for everyone to run inside. I had also read just days before about a bear sighting in the area, and might have yelled something about that too. People enjoyed pointing out that there are no mountains around my parents' house and it was determined that the mountain lion was a feral cat. Everyone made fun of me.

- Months later, while driving around Letchworth State Park, I was convinced I saw a monkey riding on the back of a motorcycle. Aware that I already had one strike against me with the mountain lion, I debated not saying anything. However, I was so sure that I had seen a monkey and that the sighting would vindicate me, I shouted it out and demanded that we turn around to follow the motorcycle. It turns out it was a grown man riding around with a stuffed orangutan on the back of his bike. Everyone made fun of me. To be fair though, who the hell does that?

-Months later, on my way home from a trip to Boston, I was one of only two cars parked at a rest stop on the thruway. Standing outside of the car drinking a coffee and stretching, I saw something moving in the distance. Squinting to make it out, I noticed that it was quickly running in my direction. It was super fast and coming right at me and I knew I wouldn't have enough time to get in the car. I debated jumping on the hood of the car, but I froze with fear and just stood there as the large cat with its giant tail ran right past me. After it happened I got in the car and could only laugh because I knew no one was going to believe me. I called my mother and even she said, "Ooh, was it a tiger, Jess?" I later received numerous emails with the subject line, "Was this the cat?" which included pictures like this.

So anyway, I was thrilled today to hear about the sightings and recent capture of a bobcat on Staten Island. A bobcat. Staten Island. Who's laughing now, fools?

Back In The Vault, Ariel.

In yet another sign of the crumbling economy, Brooks Barnes writes in the NYT that the Walt Disney Company has decided to change its DVD business model. Could it be an end to The Vault?

With overcrowding and significant increases in costs for food and medical coverage, Disney can no longer afford to adequately care for the characters in The Vault. Disney's vault system, releasing characters for a limited time and then locking them away for 7 to 10 years, has drawn sharp criticism from rights groups and children wanting to watch a digitally remastered Pocahontas while they're still young enough to enjoy it.

During her 2007 release, Cinderella sat down for an exclusive interview with Lisa Ling to speak out against the conditions. She claimed characters were not properly monitored and that the cast of The Lion King had eaten most of the members of The Jungle Book and at least 32 Dalmatians. She also accused Disney of not providing Quasimodo with proper physical therapy and said Sleeping Beauty had been subjected to numerous tests for drug companies, namely, Ambien. When reached for comment, Disney sent a letter written by Pinocchio saying that he loved The Vault. Pressed for video showing Pinocchio reading his statement, Disney declined.

With the possible release of all the characters due to lacking funds, employment experts stress that this may be a difficult time for them. "The job market is tight right now and a lot of these characters lack employable skills. I'm afraid being able to talk to animals, or actually being an animal, isn't what companies are looking for in a recession. Most of them will probably end up on reality shows."

But according to Barnes' article, Disney won't be letting anyone loose before their scheduled release. The company simply wants to produce fewer discs and change packaging to cut costs.

Activist protests are anticipated in Orlando and Anaheim.

A Three Million Dollar Lesson.

If Super Bowl commercials have taught me anything, it's that watching horses fall in love does not make me want a beer.

"I'll handle this, Violet. Why don't you take your three-hour break."

Newman: Oh, calm down everyone. No one's cancelling any mail.
Kramer: Oh, yes, I am.
Newman: What about your bills?
Kramer: The bank can pay 'em.
Newman: The bank. What about your cards and letters?
Kramer: E-mail, telephones, fax machines. Fedex, telex, telegrams, holograms.
Newman: All right, it's true! Of course nobody needs mail. What do you think, you're so clever for figuring that out? But you don't know the half of what goes on here. So just walk away, Kramer. I beg of you.

So I'm sure by now you've heard the red alert that the postmaster general wants to cut mail service down from 6 days a week to five. This news has been on par with the peanut paste thing. "Don't eat peanut paste! It's contaminated!" Thanks for that. I was consuming most of my peanut products in paste form. But apparently the post office could lose as much as $6 billion next year if they don't make the switch. Do you know how many postcard stamps that is?!

I think the 5-day service switch is a great idea because no one really appreciates the mail anymore. I bet the people waiting on the Pony Express to roll into town were pretty freakin' amped to see that Valpak.

According to the Associated Press, the post office needs to send about 9 billion more pieces of mail this year to meet its budget. If they let Bernie Madoff get involved to start those chain letters that we used to get in fourth grade, maybe people would be willing to go through a book of stamps to receive good fortune. If every American sent out 20 letters every week for 52 weeks, and the post office cut service to 5 days, plus holidays, and increased the price of the forever stamp, forever, I think the budget concerns would be a thing of the past.

Or maybe they should just start charging a fee to rent a pen at the post office. Because they never have pens there.

Problem Solved.

So I hear Lost is back. I'm not a fan. I've mentioned this before. During the first few seasons whenever people started talking about the show I'd ask them to explain the plotline to me and then three words into their explanations I'd add, "But say it with a straight face."
If people could get through a rundown of the program, dropping words like "monster" without smiling, I'd know not to talk to them about TV again.

One of my roommates in San Francisco was really into Battlestar Galactica and I made the mistake onetime of sitting down to watch it with him.
"So these people are in space?"
"Yeah."
"Then where do they get those salon quality haircuts?"

And then he hit pause on the Tivo until I left.

I get that these shows thrive on suspended disbelief and people dig that, but the Lost thing is out of control. The Wikipedia page for Lost is about 30 times larger than the Wikipedia page for Einstein's Theory of Relativity. Let's have a little perspective people.

I only bring this up because I overheard what I'd consider a genuine argument the other day as someone yelled, "It's NOT a dinosaur!"

The yelling thing scared me. Watching Lost fans struggle to keep a straight face while saying "blob" or "tropical polar bear" used to be good for a little laugh. But I don't want one of these freaks to cut me. From now on if I hear anyone mention the show, I'm just going to say I don't own a television anymore. My TV was misplaced on a flight home from Australia.

Write That Down.

Listening to a list of the nightly specials at restaurants has started to make me feel uncomfortable. Due to the complexity of the food some restaurants now serve, it's become a Top Chef story hour of ingredients and preparation techniques as the server tells a tale about where each dish was locally harvested and why there's foam on the plate. The overuse of adjectives doesn't help either. I have no idea what an auspicious salad is supposed to taste like.

Hearing, "Let me tell you about tonight's specials" gives me the same feeling I get when a person starts to sing or play the flute on the subway. OK, this might be awhile. Should I look at you? Should I look away? Should I nod at everything you say or smile when you name something I like? Should I interrupt your flow of information with an "Oooh, that sounds good" or hold that until the end?

There must be some sort of unwritten rule for handling this. There seems to be an unwritten rule for almost everything else.

People love talking about unwritten rules. I think it's because the lack of solid evidence frees them to make any claim they want. "I'm sorry, but if the car in front of you leaves their blinker on for more than a mile, you're allowed to rear end them. That's just an unwritten rule."
You can learn a lot about a person through the unwritten rules they mention--and also by looking at the front of their car.

It's amazing how many lists of unwritten rules are posted on the internet.

"12 Unwritten Rules of Cellphone Etiquette."
"The Unwritten Rules of Movie Watching."
"25 Unwritten Rules For Writing Rules That Should Remain Unwritten: A Novel."

Everyone has their personal favorite. Unwritten rules for travel, waiting in line, eating. Years ago I learned about the unwritten rules of Bingo. I won't pretend to know anything about Bingo Etiquette except to say that it exists and involves a dauber. Note: If you ever want to get kicked out of a Catholic school's basement during a Wednesday night game of Bingo, call a false Bingo twice in a row. How do people not know you're joking when you shout "Bingo!" after the first number is called?

Elevator Etiquette is one of the unwritten universals. Nothing brings people together on the rules of social behavior quite like standing in vertical transport with strangers. Save for that lone weirdo, we all agree that an elevator trip is life's pause button. Who we are, what we're doing, where we're going, where we've been--it's all canceled out on the elevator. Maybe because lifts were originally meant for freight we all just assume that role.

Some people nod when entering an elevator as if to say, "I'm entering the elevator now" and most people will nod back in confirmation, "Yes, you are." A fake smile is often used here as well. More of a frown than a smile, an elevator fake smile never exposes teeth and it states in the quietest way possible, don't talk to me.

It blows my mind when couples say they met on an elevator. Seriously? How?
The danger is that an elevator ride can make anyone who says more than, "floor?" seem like a charming wordsmith. These are usually the same couples who a few months into the relationship complain they they're having trouble communicating.

Most unwritten rules boil down to one of two things: Be quiet or show up with wine. So I guess I need to start looking for mime restaurants with a corkage fee. No lengthy explanations, just nightly specials trapped in a box or being pulled from the kitchen with invisible rope.

Edward R. Murrow Would Be Proud.

It's a shame that they edited this video because when I saw it this morning the guy kept interrupting Heidi Collins asking to show the water trick while she repeated over and over, "I'm sorry, we have to get to some news."

Is it just me, or do you get the feeling that local weatherman were the kids in school who used to lick their shoes?

Get Out Of My Head Robot Voice.

I had a dream last night that T-Pain was my roommate and we threw a party to help teach people how to recycle.
A dream dictionary that could figure that one out hasn't been written yet.
But I guess it's easier to understand than the recurring dreams I was having about The Supernanny.

Try To Follow This.

The following is from an actual conversation I had with my father the other day after a wind storm. The word "generator" has been omitted about 30 times.

"Well, the power's out! Lines are down all over the road! The wind snapped the poles like toothpicks! You think the wind cares? The wind doesn't care!"
"I've never really thought about the wind like that before."
"We had to have Garr help us hook a generator up to a tractor to get some power going on the farm."
"I'm sorry, who?"
"Gaar."
"Is that some sort of mythical creature?"
"You've heard me mention Garrr before."
"Garrgh, the Norse God of Portable Energy?"
"He works over at Suburban Electric."
"I don't know what that is. They install generators?"
"No, but I guess Garar knows a lot about generators."
"Enough to hook them up to tractors to heat homes?"
"Yeah."
"And his name is Gar?"
"It might be short for Garfield or Gar...Gar...I don't know."
"Anyway..."
"Oh! Remember that party your mother and I went to for Margot's birthday at the Belhurst Castle in Geneva?"
"Who?"
"Margot Bill Frank's wife."
"Margot Bill, Frank's wife? Or Margot Frank, Bill's wife?"
"Yeah."
"Dad!"
"Bill Frank worked on our refrigeration for the storage. Margot is German."
[Blank Stare]
"Look, the point is, Garr was at that party."

Having a conversation with my dad is remarkably similar to playing Three-Card Monte except that I'm never told which card I'm supposed to identify.

Blank Stare: Thanksgiving Edition.

Still not in comic strip form. Drawing boxes obviously requires more energy than I'm willing to exert.

Frame 1: Deb this chicken tastes like pork tenderloin.
Frame 2: It's eggplant.
Frame 3: Blank Stare.

Frame 1: Jess, have you given any more thought to going back to school to be a veterinarian?
Frame 2: I have no idea what you're talking about.
Frame 3: Oh, I don't know.
Frame 4: Blank Stare.

Frame 1: Hey dad, what does tare weight mean?
Frame 2: Empty weight.
Frame 3: Does tare stand for something?
Frame 4: Yeah, empty.
Frame 5: Blank Stare.

Frame 1: Jess, this is delicious! You could be like that celebrity chef Lance Bass.
Frame 2: Blank Stare.

Frame 1: That's a nice color for a car.
Frame 2: Yeah, it looks like a pearl.
Frame 3: No, it was a man in there.
Frame 4: Dad, I said PEARL.
Frame 5: Oh. Well she looked like a man.
Frame 6: Blank Stare.

Frame 1: Vermont plates!
Frame 2: Yup.
Frame 3: You know, Vermont's slogan should be, "Come to Vermont for a nice meal and a good book."
Frame 4: Blank Stare.

(T)issue.

I was watching the CEOs of America's Big Three automakers beg for money last night in front of the House Financial Services Committee (because that's how I do) and was slightly disappointed that no one brought up the issue of Kleenex in the rear windows of Lincoln Town Cars. I guess that's not what the meeting was about, but it has always sort of bothered me.

Has anyone ever sat behind a Lincoln Town Car at a red light and NOT seen a box of tissues in the rear window?

Seriously. Anyone?

I want to start a photo collection of different Town Cars I see with tissues in the rear window and call the collection, "I'm Driving And I Need A Tissue But I Can't Reach Because I Drive A Lincoln Town Car And The Box Is In My Rear Window."

I'll need to work on the title.

As Seen On TV.

"If any of you are looking for any last minute gift ideas..."

The Aqua Globe. This is something you fill with water and stick into your plants to keep them watered. Right. That seems like an extra step I wouldn't be willing to pay for. You still have to remember to water something. Plus, having to hear, "Did you water the Aqua Globe?" would probably send me into a rant about the Aqua Globe every time.

Debbie Meyer Green Bags. These magic bags keep your fresh produce "fresh" for weeks. Few questions here. Why is Debbie Meyer buying so much fresh produce if she knows she won't be eating it for 18 days? Why not just buy a fresh green pepper when you need one? What is running through Debbie Meyer's head at the market? "Oh, cucumbers. I might want one of those in three to four weeks. Better buy 12 of them now." The commercial for these bags says, "Here are baby carrots after 26 days!" Maybe Debbie doesn't like baby carrots as much as she thinks she does.

The Slanket. Don't even get me started. All I'll say is that in all honesty, without exaggeration, I am afraid of this thing.

And on Sunday I saw a commercial where the man from the Oxiclean ads was selling a health insurance plan. That seems like a sound choice. Medical coverage from a man who feels compelled to throw red wine and ink on everything he sees. Why not refinance your mortgage through the ShamWOW! guy, or apply for a student loan with the people who brought us Kinoki Foot Pads?

Call now.

Productive Day.

Gloomy weather is good for me when it comes to getting things done. I have a ton of stuff to take care of and so far I've put a pretty nice dent in the list.

1) Dance around to Janelle Monae's "Many Moons" for 5 minutes, or an hour. Check.

2) Brainstorm ideas for an online cooking show called Pinscher of Salt where Stella makes sandwiches. Check.

3) Stare at things. Check.

I should be a life coach.

Work In A Bikini!

That was the actual title for a job posting on Craigslist. "Work In a Bikini!"

The exclamation point kills me. I usually don't even wear a bikini to the beach, but gosh, I never thought about showing up to work in midtown in a bikini. That might be pretty exciting! And winter is right around the corner! Working in a bikini in the winter! Cool!

I read the ad merely out of curiosity (I'm not qualified. I get it.) and it turns out it's to work as a food server in a restaurant. I shouldn't be surprised I guess. This economic downturn has caused most other people who work in their bikinis to lose their jobs. Just this morning CNBC was talking about the spike in unemployment rates for bikini-clad accountants and the Detroit area is losing bikini-wearing auto manufacturing jobs left and right. I recently read that the entire law firm of Mono, Micro, Tankini & String folded, leaving associates there wondering what to do next.

The ad for the Craigslist posting described the ideal candidate for the position as "fit, attractive, experienced in restaurant and bar operations, and comfortable working in a Bikini." Makes sense. They also asked job applicants to show up to the interview with "heels and a bikini." That makes sense too. No mention of a cover letter or résumé, but I assume that goes without saying.

"So I see here you've had experience working in a bikini before?"
"Yes, that's right. After getting my degree in Swimwear Studies, I worked for Beach For America for two years in Chicago and then went on to work as a molecular/cell biology Research Assistant at a university here in the city."
"Oh, but that wasn't in a bikini?"
"Well, the job didn't call for it, no. But I do prefer to work in a bikini and I ALWAYS do research in a bikini."
"O.K. good."

Because I have issues with restaurant cleanliness, it's particularly upsetting to me that bikini jobs are limited to working in food and beverage. You'd have to be a pretty big perv to overlook the fact that people are serving you food in their underwear. It's gross. I'd be like, "Could you do us a solid and throw some pants on before you bring out our appetizer sampler? That'd be great, thanks."

Getting To Know You.

Helping D setup an online payment system for an account this morning, it occurred to me how much you need to know about yourself to fill in the security questions. I remember when the only question was "What was your High School Mascot?" or "What is your mother's middle name?" and even trying to answer those questions took five seconds of serious thought. But now there are multiple questions. So many in fact, that she had to write down the answers and file them. That seems insane to me. That security questions about oneself are now so wide in scope that a person needs to keep a "me" cheat sheet in their filing cabinet. "My favorite band? I started this account online in the 90's, I have no effing clue. Let's see, what was my favorite band in 1998? Aqua? That can't be right."

In the event that you can't remember your password, which is highly likely because it often must include 3 digits and an umlaut, these security questions are meant to help verify that you're you. But what if you can't even verify it? Trying to recall the answer to a question you filled out seven years ago is difficult, but if the question concerned something about personal taste at the time, it's nearly impossible. My nightmare would be having to call customer service and run through a list of possible answers I might have given to security questions.
-We're sorry that you're having trouble accessing your account. Can you remember how you answered the "What did you want to be when you grew up" question?
-Um, was there another question?
-Well, we have to start on this one.
-Oh. Um, did I say teacher?
-Let me check. No, that wasn't the answer given.
-Doctor?
-No.
-Um, MacGdkjfhds?
-Sorry?
-Um, Macfrummsblerg?
-Miss Martin, I can't understand you.
-Did I type MacGyver?
-Yes, okay. And now I just need to verify your social.

I let D pick her questions and fill out her answers and afterward she agreed that they were ridiculous.
"One of the questions asked me to name my greatest fear."
"Really? What is your greatest fear?"
"I don't know. I said choking."

It's A Common Sense Thing.

Imagine you're out to eat when the waiter announces your order to the entire restaurant. "Excuse me ladies and gentleman, she said she wants tonight's special. Yea or Nay?" And then by a show of hands, the entire dining room votes on your meal. "I'm sorry, the other customers think you should have a salad."

It'd be totally ridiculous, right?

But the gay marriage ban that passed in three states on election night isn't so far removed from this restaurant scenario.

Entire states were asked to walk into a voting booth, close the curtain, and decide whether or not a gay person should be allowed to marry someone they love. A majority of voters in California, Arizona and Florida decided they should not be allowed that right. I don't remember being asked to vote before any of my straight friends and family members got married.

I've never been cryptic about my views on marriage, but I am deeply concerned with actions taken to limit rights and the use of bigotry to hold a nation back from achieving equality. And that's what this is all about--equality. The idea that gay people are somehow different, or deserve an altered set of rules to exist in America is insulting and dangerous. It creates an idea of "the other" and is a breeding ground for injustice. What worries me is that this is not really an issue of marriage (as long as it's between consenting adults, does anyone honestly care who anyone marries?) but more of a device used to spread intolerance.

There are suggestions that gay marriage leads to the destruction of the family (huh?) but I like Ellen's response to these claims:

"I don't know what people are scared of. Maybe they think that their children will be influenced. And I gotta say, I was raised by two heterosexuals. I was surrounded by heterosexuals. Just everywhere I looked, heterosexuals. And they did not influence-- I mean, I had dabbled in high school, who didn't? But I think people are going to be who they're going to be. And we need to learn to love them for who they are and let them love who they want to love."

Note: The blog has taken a political turn as of late. Back to reporting on the absurdities of life soon. But on some level, I think the political posts qualify.

That's What I'm Talking About!

Obama's win last night was America's win. "This is your victory" he said. And because the coverage kept showing Oprah so many times throughout his speech, I really thought America was going to win her favorite things as well. "Can we give everyone in this great nation a Weber Grill? Yes We Can! Oh, okay. I've just received word that no, no we can't."

But unlike other victories where the enthusiasm fades away awkwardly, with the camera zooming in on some fan with a slowly waving foam finger, Obama's/America's win last night resonates. If anything, it feels more like victory today. To actually feel inspired by a political leader, to see the results of grassroots efforts and to watch a nation come together as a nation, you start to think, holy crap, we really can. It's huge. (But it's still a no on those grills-- I checked.)

Vote Tomorrow!

Well, it's about that time, people. (Finally.) So many things have happened during this election that I decided to put together a little list of the highs and lows. But lists can be boring, so please sing this list aloud to yourself to the tune of "We Didn't Start The Fire."

Freddy Mac, Fannie Mae, Fundamentals A-Okay
Town Halls, Live Debates, Can I Call You Joe?

Joe Six-pack, party division, automakers, television
Oil prices, polling devices, The Rachel Maddow Show.

(Instrumental Break)

Colbert runs as "favorite son," superdelegates overdone,
Fred Thompson's presidential run called Law and Order: WTF?

Socialism, skepticism, idealism, optimism,
Health care, warfare, Kucinich's wife.

(Chorus)

Robocalls, op-ed pieces, talking heads, rally speeches,
Flag pins, middle names, snowmachining spouse.

Troopergate, swing states, pig and lipstick, interest rates,
Wal-Mart moms, Neiman's spree, Russia's by my house.

Tim Russert, SNL, Mitt Romney ( told ya pal).
Katie Couric, Late-Night Diss, NYTimes, Maverickyness.

Brokaw played clock-referee, weird touch screen map thing on TV, Hillary, Tina Fey, what else do I have to say?

OK, you get it.

Vote.