Happy Holidays

Common Cold, Flu, Syphillis, Madcow, and Mono all wishing you a healthy holiday.Toys are from ThinkGeek.

Writing at Bobst

Why don't people shower during finals?

Edited to add: People, put on your fucking shoes! This isn't your mom's house.

Break From Paper Writing

Yes it's that time of year again, and despite the fact that I have about 4 days to throw down a lot of writing, the simple fact that I don't have applications to fill out, and an uncertain future to contemplate, has me in a completely different head space.

I've been making sounds of distress to friends and family about my quickly approaching twenty-eighth birthday, but the truth is I don't have much to complain about. My problems are mostly manageable, and aging a bit is less distressing because I don't that gut-wrenching sense of going nowhere.

The odd thing is that I find myself entering into long conversations with people applying to Ph.d programs. I tell myself that I have to spread what advice I can far and wide because it's part of what one does when gets lucky. But I also feel like I'm actively seeking moments to relive the agony of those weeks, in order to avoid lapsing into smugness.

I used to watch the Ph.D students with this knot in my stomach that was two parts envy and one part resentment. And what all of them seemed to share, despite occasional existential crisis, was at the least the knowledge that they were accepted and had a professional home for the next few years. It was such a contrast to what I and some of my MA compatriots felt that I couldn't conceive of ever having that peace of mind.

The strange thing is, having pierced the veil, I find that the peace of mind is both true and not true. There is no endpoint yet. We're only over the first hurdle. But that first hurdle even after one has cleared it is so very high. And as much as I enjoy having done just that, I feel vaguely guilty, not for having cleared it, but for so happily leaving behind that feeling of uncertainty.

So I talk and I offer advice, and cringe at my own eagerness, because I know, and at the same time I wish I could forget.

NYC is Like Middle School

This is the time of year where to counteract the double-stress of papers and holiday shopping, yours truly turns to odd and varied coping mechanisms. This year, I've taken to holding impromptu dinner parties with friends, drowning my sorrows in butter, fresh herbs, organic veggies, and cheap wine.

Last night we fried up some latkes and roasted a chicken* for an early Hanukkah party and settled in to watch the season finale of the reality train wreck known as America's Top Model. I won't defend this. It is indefensible. Whatever. Caridee rocks and (S)Melrose can suck on it.

After, we picked the carcass of the chicken while watching Sex and the City reruns. Watching Sex and the City when living in New York is an interesting experience. On the one hand there is the obvious separation of fantasy and reality. You also realize that the New York experience transmitted by the show is highly specific in terms of class and race. On the other hand...well...take the episode on Modelizers. On a typical day in Manhanattan, it's not unusual to see a troupe of these





waltzing down Broadway or flitting around Barnes & Nobel. My first year here I had the unfortunate experience of sharing a bathroom mirror with two such creatures. (Shudder).

Living here has raised the "look at me" stakes in a way that hasn't been the case for me since I was thirteen. I've been resistant to it but it's wearing me down. For one thing this town eats shoes every six months so one must have a lot of them. For another, if I am to be faced with models in the mirror, I better have a good shade of lipstick on.

It's silly that this picks at my self esteem but that's not the only part of it. The other part is the single thing. Just typing it makes me squirm, so let me make this as clear as possible. In addition to frequent model sightings, it is also not rare to see one of these



Hanging on to the arm of someone who looks like this.






Yeah. It's enough to make you want to move to Pittsburgh.

*The chicken turned out really great. So great in fact that I simply must share.

ingredients:

1 3-5 pound whole chicken
1/2 cup plus one tablespoon unsalted butter
1-2 tablespoons chopped fresh herbs (the Poultry assortment works fine)
5 springs fresh parsley
1 lemon
3 cloves or garlic, crushed
Salt and pepper
white wine

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Melt half the butter and whisk in herbs, salt and pepper. Cut the lemon in half. Melt the rest of the butter in a roasting pan. Wash chicken, pat dry, and rub salt on outside and in cavity. Rub some of the butter and herb mixture underneath the skin and inside the cavity. Reserve the rest for basting. Put parsley inside the cavity and half the lemon at the opening. Remove roasting pan from oven and add garlic and a splash of white wine. Add chicken and roast for 20 minutes. Baste, lower heat to 350 degrees and baste every 7 minutes until an hour has past. The chicken should be golden brown and juicy.