This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I'm a compound modifier nazi

As opposed to a compound modifier-nazi.

via xkcd.

Sushi

A few days ago I went to a sushi-making class (by the same lady who put on the last cooking class I went to.) I don't think I will attempt to make my own anytime soon, though, because:

a. Making sushi is hard. Those ones that are sitting on their sides and falling open? Those were my first attempts (they tasted pretty damn good though ... smoked salmon and cream cheese and green onions. I call it the New York roll.)

b. Too paranoid about using the right kind of fish and keeping it fresh enough.

But I figured when you live in a city where the number of sushi bars is eclipsed only by the number of people who spend every moment of their lives trying to appear cultured, sushi is a good thing to know about, kind of like wine. Also, after spending a LOT of time last summer at sushi bars, I think I'm finally to the point where I'm not just choking it down but I actually like it.

Oh, and it's GORGEOUS outside. The trees are starting to get leaves on them, which makes everything cheerier-looking, especially in the 'hood.

Get Lite

The kids at Harlem Live are all about this. or at least about trying to do it.

Mama I'm coming home

I'm flying into Appleton on May 14, flying out on May 20 and I'll be in Eau Claire for a while in between. Yay! I'm excited. To quote Nikki, I miss you all like Paris Hilton misses carbs.

Get Some.

My city has its own brand of condoms. Does yours?


I'm too lazy to look but I'm sure the condoms were a Mayor Bloomberg idea (doesn't seem like something Giuliani would have been into). He's all about public health initiatives (farmers market stands in poor neighborhoods like mine, calorie counts on fast-food menus, $7 cigarettes ...) I don't follow city politics enough to make an informed judgement, but how did Mike Bloomberg ever convince people he was a Republican? To me he seems almost european-style socialist. Mind you, he still gives TONS of money to the GOP, so go figure. Maybe it's just that he's so obscenely rich that he can do whatever he wants.

From what I understand, he does do a fair bit of pleading and cajoling and bullying to get what he wants, and the NYC government is not exactly a squeaky-clean organization so I'd take them all with a grain of salt. But I'll give Bloomberg the benefit of the doubt, because, at least as far as I know, he's not cashing out big time on everyone else's economic suffering.

And then I did not come to the end

Every Saturday I have to do the most boring part of my job, which is proofreading the Book Review. Imagine proofreading the Billboard music charts, and then proofreading them again with most of the miscellaneous numbers removed. It's kind of a buzzkill, but the upside is that it makes me want to, like, read actual books. Also, I spend a good chunk of my life on public transportation. So I read a lot.

In light of the terrible state of the print journalism industry, I'm currently reading And then we came to the end, by Joshua Ferris. Which is about stupid office drama as people at at ad agency get laid off and occasionally suffer nervous breakdowns. It's a lot like "the office" in book form, only kind of depressing, and I mean that in the best possible way.

But on that note, I found out today that my job is safe from the current round of layoffs. Praise the Lord and pass me my Mastercard!

Ladies and gentlemen ...

This is an important message from the New York City Police Department. We are aware that our trains smell like all kinds of nasty things, but PLEASE REFRAIN FROM SPRAYING YOUR CHEAP-ASS COLOGNE ON THE TRAIN. In the event that you choose to spray your nasty cologne and other passengers bludgeon you to death with canes, purses and stiletto heels, the MTA will not be held responsible. Thank you for riding New York City Transit, and have a safe day.

Oh crap.

I just saw a mouse run across my bedroom floor.

Better a mouse than a cockroach, I guess.

Please God don't let me get roaches ...

mini-updates and coffee. And an emo rant.

The other night I met my first white cabdriver who, incidentally, also lived in central harlem. He said he was Israeli and that he'd gotten into cabdriving two weeks ago because his friend told him he could make a lot of money, but that so far he hadn't found that to be true.

The landlord yelled at my next-door neighbor for playing his damn music so loud into all hours of the night. Finally a little peace and quiet on that side ... but the church partiers across the street are another story.

Currently I'm reading "Mortified! Real Words, Real People, Real Pathetic." Basically it's a bunch of grown-ups who sent in entries from their teenage diaries, and what results is bloody brilliant because it's so true. When you *are* that age, you think that you are a huge dork and that everyone is judging you and that no one could possibly be as emo as you secretly are, until you grow up and realize that everyone, to some degree, was once a huge emo dork. (In my diary I had a running section on the "7th Grade Soap Opera," where I would give the rundown of who was dating whom that week. And of course it changed every week, sometimes multiple times).

Lately Starbucks has gotten a lot of publicity for their new plan to make coffee that, like, tastes good. which only serves to highlight the point that plain old starbucks coffee is, in fact, absolutely terrible. There are rumors in some circles that it's bad on purpose so customers opt for expensive girly latte drinks instead. I mean, seriously — you have to dump at least three sugars into it just to curb the bitter taste, and the utter futility of adding skim milk to it gives me an excuse to put whole milk in my coffee.

Mind you, the fact that it's terrible doesn't stop me from drinking it. Hell, Starbucks coffee got me through many, many morning college classes and post-obscenely-late-deadline Spectator workdays. I think the bitterness and rocket-fuel consistency give it a kind of placebo effect where it makes me feel a little extra buzzed.

I miss Holiday coffee. On that note, I miss my Holiday gas station and the man who was always behind the counter when I came in at 6:47 a.m. before every single Leader-Telegram shift, without fail, except for the ones where I overslept. (I don't miss working at 7 a.m.) Every time I fry eggs I miss my kitchen on Menomonie Street where the floor was so slanted that both eggs would slide to one side of the pan. I miss making pancakes the morning after a crazy night. I miss dancing in front of the mirror that was in Nikki's room that makes you look skinny. (I don't miss my 7x12 bedroom.) I miss the ho box and redundant water street bars and kicking it with whoever happened to be in our living room at the time. (I do not miss the living room furniture). And I miss Jeff and Jim's. No slice of pizza in this city will ever be Jeff and Jim's.

Why I'm glad I didn't go into broadcast journalism

Because of things like this.

Hooty hoo!

It's spring in the 'hood ... which means that about half of the locals are no longer in winter coats and hats. I myself walked to the gym in capri pants and a sweatshirt, because I just can't pretend it's cold out anymore.

Also, I need some new music. What are you all listening to?

Look at this picture. What do you see?

This image ran in the paper with a book review on "Bonk: The curious coupling of science and sex." When we picked this story for the Large Print Weekly, the graphics editor didn't get it and vetoed it in favor of a stock photo.

Turned out to be a good call on her part — there was a crap-pile of letters from readers who were completely confused and chemistry nerds who were outraged at the graphic designer's ignorance of the fact that the above is totally implausible as a proper organic molecule.

Oh, and the molecule? If you can't see it (I couldn't at first), it spells a word. With three letters in it.

Midtown Beyond the Clusterfuck

Today I accidentally went to work early. So I walked around midtown and took some random pictures.

Also, I have now caught two different instances, on different desks, in which I have had to call editors after seeing stories ready for print that mistakenly called the National Republican Congressional Committee the RNCC (Not to be confused with the RNC. I swear those republican bastards did that to confuse people). So I'm using my dirty past in service to the big bad liberal media.

Also also, I miss trees.

Some random words of wisdom

Sometimes the only sane answer to an insane question is insanity. — Fox Mulder

It's not that I'm weird. It's that everyone else is so damn normal. — Jenny

Keep knocking on doors and eventually one will open. — Someone from salt-n-pepa

Never turn Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd off the radio. — Dad

When you've lost all hope and excuses
From the cheapskates and the losers
Nothing's left to cling onto
You've gotta hold onto yourself. — Green Day

The wrong guys won't hurt you. It's the right ones that are the killers. — Ally McBeal

Thongs are the answer! — A former MHS cheerleader

You know what they say about women and trolley cars - there are plenty of them in the sea. — William Lichter, "Can't Hardly Wait"

If you think you suck, then you are going to suck. — Lynn Schommer

In college you pay to be miserable. In high school it's free. — Sra. Munig

You know what they say about corporate art - it needs to be smashed. — Dave Jacobs

Babies are highly overrated. They're not that cute, and they smell. — Norgon's take on abortion

The most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words when one will do. — A fortune cookie, on the wall above the copy desk at The Country Today

Never end a story with a fart. — Julian Emerson

All except the last few are from the quote book I just found that I kept in high school. Now all my words of wisdom get posted to facebook, where they are ultimately lost to everyone except the people who archive our profile information for marketing purposes.