This video is sort of long and sort of boring, but it’s a good sample of what Cheddar and Sushi do all day long. On this day they were fighting over who got to sit inside my Vera Bradley duffel bag (which for some reason, they both love).
Some people have a talent for storytelling.
Sufjan, who, in addition to writing songs, tells precious little stories…
And my brother’s friend Crans, who crafts these lovely gems from Paris…
I was tempted to play carols at work on my computer to get people into the Christmas spirit. But playing music out loud in the office is a delicate art. One day I went out but accidentally left music playing through my speakers—an ambient techno mix intended to offend no one. The boss told me later, “you made the office sound like a sushi restaurant.”
I’m waiting in line at the laundry with one girl behind me while a couple in front of me disputes something about their laundry detergent. Two or three minutes go by. A man walks up carrying a bag of laundry and steps in front of me.
Me: “Hey, there’s a line.”
Him: (shrug)
The couple leaves just then. He steps inside with his laundry and puts it on the scale. I go in after him and stand right next to him - it’s a small space.
Me: “Is there a reason you think you don’t have to wait in line?”
Him: (shrug)
Me: “Do you think you’re better than us for some reason?”
Him: “That’s right.”
Chick behind me to the guy: “You’re a really pleasant person.”
He leaves.
Ahhhh New York.
I read this article in Scientific American about a girl with musicophobia: she had seizures in response to music. And not just any music - only music she liked. Music she didn’t like (jazz, classical) had no effect. Partially because music is basically unavoidable in urban life (stores, ring tones, street musicians, etc) she chose to have brain surgery to remove the part of her brain where the seizures started. She ended up able to listen to whatever music she liked - but I wonder if her enjoyment had changed?
It got me thinking about what life would be like if you had to avoid music - or at least choose to live without it. What if music couldn’t be part of your life? I’m sure there are plenty of people for whom this wouldn’t be a challenge. They are either disinterested or passive consumers of music. For me it would be devastating. Would something else replace that near euphoric high of that perfect combination of sounds? What else could really feel so good? Sometimes I wonder if that’s the feeling people who are athletes or runners talk about. The release of endorphins or serotonin or dopamine or whatever feel-good neurotransmitter it happens to be that causes that high. And does every person have that something? I know I’ve felt it in plenty of different situations - music just happens to be the one that’s easiest to control and replicate. I can’t make someone fall in love with me, I can’t count on excelling at any specific task. Music, however, is always there.
In This is Your Brain on Music, Daniel Levitin discusses how music stimulates the entire brain diffusely, while most processing tasks are focused in one specific region of the brain. I’m still working my way through the book, but this concept makes sense to me. Music really does, more than anything else, seem to work it’s way through the entire mind; I’ve used the phrase “bathing every neuron” before. Even better, sometimes it works its way down to your heart. It’s a reliable high.
Today’s high courtesy of Coldplay’s “Strawberry Swing.”
Somewhere in high school or college, when eating healthy became something of a competition among friends, I first became addicted to yogurt. Always having been skeptical of sugar, I stuck religiously to the artificially sweetened, fat free selections, but still with plenty of natural carbohydrates from the dairy and moderate protein. I scorned those who thought they were “eating healthy” and then consumed 45 grams of sugar in a serving of yogurt (that’s more than 3 tbsp!). There’s nothing wrong with eating sugar every now and then, but yogurt somehow got a rap as being healthy. In reality, unless you really pay attention to what you select, yogurt is more like dessert.
Then in 2005, along came Greek yogurt - specifically the Fage Total 0%. I was thrilled. It’s higher in protein, lower in carbohydrates, fat free, thick, creamy and wonderful. With a dollop of pumpkin butter or honey on top you’re still coming in lower in sugar and now without all those scary artificial additives and sweeteners. I started using agave nectar on my Fage earlier this year - supposedly it has a lower glycemic index than honey, but really it just tastes better with the yogurt. Trader Joe’s and Stoneyfield farms started releasing their own versions of Greek yogurt.
Recently, I’ve discovered the next yogurt revolution… Siggi’s Skyr. It is nothing short of the best yogurt of all time. From the label: “All natural. Milk from grass fed cows. No aspartame. No sucralose. No gelatin. No artificial colorings. No preservatives. No high fructose corn syrup.” Nutritionally it’s similar to the Fage and it comes in delectable flavors: Orange and Ginger, Pear and Mint, Blueberry, Pomegranate and Passion Fruit, and Plain. The ingredients reveal that it is just skim milk, agave nectar, live active cultures, vegetable rennet and whichever fruit. Oh, and it’s a Scandinavian food, but locally produced - even better!
I’ve been griping about weddings for quite some time now. Call me bitter. Call me cynical. Probably I’m a mix of both intermittently - particularly at weddings. At any rate, this year being one in which I won’t attend a single wedding, it seemed the best timing to theorize about the wedding industrial complex, hopefully without offending any of my friends. For the record, of the twelve weddings I’ve attended in the last four years, I’m fairly certain all the people actually getting married had a great time and were happy, and really that’s what the day is all about. Also for the record, I didn’t really like formals in college or dances in high school either - so maybe this is all just the adult extension of an inherent objection to getting dressed up and dancing. Finally, just to be clear, I don’t have an objection to the institution of marriage. I do believe that it’s both possible and reasonable to spend the bulk of your life with one person. How you find that person, I have no idea. I’m not sure I’m really looking just yet. But that’s another story.
My objection to the wedding industrial complex comes from two distinct places. The first is a more personal aversion. It comes from the place of being a chronically single person who (for what are probably defensive, self-protective reasons) finds herself uncomfortable with the concept of romance. The second is purely fiscal in nature. I was by no means raised in a frugal atmosphere, but I learned to think of money with a sense of responsibility and practicality.
I don’t think I really need to define the wedding-industrial complex, right? It’s everything from the magazines to the romantic comedies, the websites to the dress fittings, the flowers, showers, rings, and registries. It’s spending thousands upon thousands of dollars on one piece of jewelry and one big day. It’s women being lavished upon and rescued by men.
Part I is about the ring. It all starts with the ring. Until recently I think I was just as convinced as every other girl that I needed or wanted a big diamond ring on my left hand. What changed my mind? Well, first of all there’s the fact that the size of diamond that every girl thinks is necessary seems to be dependent mostly on how important a social status marker it is for them. How big are their friends’ rings? How much can Mr-Ring-Buyer afford? How big are the rings at the grocery store or the boutique around the corner? How big was mom’s ring? How important is money and socioeconomic status to the couple? It doesn’t seem to have a lot to do with anything about the relationship. When I questioned a friend once on the practicality of buying the ring if money was tight, she explained, “Well, it’s really important to us.” Really? More than housing and groceries and having a social life? More than the down payment on a house? When I moved from grad school and Massachusetts to Manhattan and the land of new money, the rings got significantly bigger. It’s ostentatious consumption at it’s best. I haven’t even watched Blood Diamond yet, but you can bet that it’ll only add fuel to my fire. The mere fact that there is a process for certifying diamonds as conflict-free makes the industry suspect. I also love when girls talk about what size ring looks good on their hand. Please. On the other hand, I’m not really one to buck tradition and I do think there’s something important about having some sort of symbol, so what’s my suggested alternative? It seems to me like there ought to be plenty of vintage, ready to be reused gems out there. Since the traditional diamond engagement ring didn’t become a “custom” until the mid 1900s (thanks to brilliant De Beers marketing), there are hundreds of years of precedent to draw inspiration from.
Now, because I like to try to play my own devil’s advocate, I find myself wondering how I would respond if I were ever offered a ring by someone I loved. I can see how it would be hard to say no. I guess the question would be what was the motivation for his buying it? Did he buy it because he wanted to or because he felt like he had to? And would I look at it for years to come wondering what else it could have paid for? What amazing trip or year of tuition? I know there are plenty of women out there who dreamed of their rings and weddings as children and are happy for this one remnant of fairytale in our lives. I’m not saying it’s wrong for them, just that it probably deserves some thoughtful consideration.
I happened upon “Love & Sex” (2000) starring Jon Favreau and Famke Janssen on IFC tonight. The movie was a surprisingly good Saturday-night-before-Sunday-workday-nothing-else-to-do activity.
Right at the part where you realize that like all romantic comedies this one is also going to have a happy ending despite whatever plot devices are currently being used to convince you otherwise, Jon’s character says,
“Two people can be perfect for each other but if the timing’s wrong its never going to work out. Bad timing is the reason that most normal people end up single. Weirdos and creeps are single cause they are weird and creepy, but people like us are single because of bad timing.”
I know I’m not creepy. I hope I’m not weird. I guess I just have bad timing. I realize that quotes from romantic comedies are not meant to be taken or treated as definitive truths but there’s something to this. The problem with timing isn’t just where you are and what you’re doing. It’s who you are at that time.
I moved twice during my childhood that I remember. At the time it felt traumatic and then later, for college applications, I was able to spin the experience of moving as “making me flexible” and I began to believe my own story. The year I went to college my parents moved away and I haven’t lived at “home” since. I planted myself in three serial programs with defined start and end points and went through the motions. Change became the norm… until now. Now the story doesn’t have an end point. It doesn’t even have an evolution. Next month I’ll be renewing the lease on my apartment. A year will have gone by and I’ll be signing on for… another year of the same? I feel uncomfortable to be at a certain point and see no potential for change or advancement. Do I just keep doing the same thing forever?
There are certainly changes in my life that I’d like to see happen, but feel like I can’t necessarily control or plan for (social life, marriage, family). So do I take the things I can control (career, location) and change them just for the sheer value of change? I have to admit that were I to change either some element of my career or my location, those changes would be the less preferred of the two sets. For example, if I experienced some evolution of my personal life, I don’t think I’d feel the same compulsion to change either my career or my location. So do you make the changes that you can even if you’re not necessarily doing it for the right reason? Move to a new city just because I can? Do a residency because I’m lonely? I have no doubt that I would be interested in and capable of doing a residency, but would I rather spend that time with heretofore undiscovered friends or being part of someone else’s life? Certainly. Conversely, do you make the changes that you can (for whatever justification or reason) and hope that those decisions open the doors to new experiences that can change other elements of your life? I know I can’t just sit around and wait.
It also strikes me as strange that I have such a desire for change, and yet, at the same time, I have a complete and total inability to move on from some events that have happened in the past. I can’t quite get completely in the present, but I also have to keep looking at the future. It’s so much easier to romanticize the past and try to plan to change the future than it is to accept the reality of the present.
This was your life. This could be your life. This is your life.
When people I know personally (from situations outside of work or veterinary school) complain about their veterinary bills, it’s hard for me not to take it as a personal offense. I was thinking about that on Friday as I was walking home from a bar where I’d met up with some college friends. As we were parting, one of my friends asked me how much a canine dental cost. I responded that they start at about $400 and go up over $1000 for severe dental disease, but that her 2.5 year old dog would likely be towards the low end of that spectrum. My friend’s boyfriend responded, “Oh hell no! We are not paying that for our dog’s teeth!”
Thanks. Way to make my work feel under-valued and under-appreciated. (In her defense, my friend did hush him).
First, I’d love to know what he was expecting it to cost for his dog to undergo full anesthesia, a dental cleaning, and dental xrays (est. $400), not to mention any necessary extractions, surgical flaps, nerve blocks, etc (the additional costs). I have so much difficulty understanding how people demand that veterinarians provide first rate medical care for their pets, but then can’t fathom when our charges must correspondingly cover for the cost of the supplies and services. If people didn’t have health insurance and paid fully for their medical procedures, perhaps they’d have a better idea. I can swear to you that I don’t get paid anywhere close to what a physician does, nor do veterinary nurses and technicians get paid anything close to that of a registered nurse - so it’s not like that money is ending up in my pocket. I don’t expect us to be paid equally, I just wish people realized how the entire veterinary industry seems to hover just in the black, always walking the fine line between making money and making things affordable for owners. The median annual earnings for a veterinarian was $72,000 in 2006.
Second, don’t get a pet if you aren’t prepared to pay the associated costs. Just as you wouldn’t (responsibly) have a child without being able to afford their care, you shouldn’t have a pet if you can’t afford one. Or, you can have the pet, but you have to realize that you might encounter a financial liability that you can’t take on. You can’t expect veterinary care as a right, free of costs.
It’s one thing when I see owners who I can tell are legitimately being faced with tough monetary decisions about their pets and their veterinary care. It’s another thing entirely to have my well-educated, and mostly well-paid, acquaintances from Dartmouth, Darien, or Manhattan complaining to me about those costs. It feels like an insult.