Archive for December, 2012

Psychological Study Results That Are So Fucking Obvious

December 8, 2012

This is the second time I’ve done this.  Some of these are so logical it angers me that they spent money actually STUDYING them (see #1 for starters.)

1. Using Facebook to keep tabs on an ex after a breakup may delay emotional recovery and personal growth (Brunel University, England.)

2. Moving to a less impoverished neighborhood appears to increase mental health and happiness (University of Chicago)

3. Just putting your cell phone on the table may reduce in-person conversation quality (University of Essex)

4.Veterans who suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder and are also battling drug or alcohol problems appear to face a higher risk of death than those who do not have substance abuse issues (University of Michigan)

Thanks (I guess) to Monitor on Psychology magazine.

Tracking Shit Down, Like I Do

December 7, 2012

Years ago, when I was waiting for the autistic child I was taking care of to come out of his occupational therapy session, I read a little blurb of sorts about cool books (there was more focus than this) in the L Magazine.  One of the books written about was a meta-fiction by an Irish writer in which a student is writing a book about a writer who is writing a book and whose characters –– stay with me here –– play tricks on the writer in order to gain control of the plot.  This was all the detail I could remember, and while I mostly have spent the past five years not obsessing over this work of literature, it does crop up in my mind from time to time.  Anyway, I decided on a whim to Google it this slow Friday afternoon and even though I’ve done so in the past with no success, I believe I have found the book I have always remembered, which is titled At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O’Brien (pseudonym.)

Synopsis, from the Dalkey Archives Press: A wildly comic send-up of Irish literature and culture, At Swim-Two-Birds is the story of a young, lazy, and frequently drunk Irish college student who lives with his curmudgeonly uncle in Dublin. When not in bed (where he seems to spend most of his time) or reading he is composing a mischief-filled novel about Dermot Trellis, a second-rate author whose characters ultimately rebel against him and seek vengeance. From drugging him as he sleeps to dropping the ceiling on his head, these figures of Irish myth make Trellis pay dearly for his bad writing. Hilariously funny and inventive, At Swim-Two-Birds has influenced generations of writers, opening up new possibilities for what can be done in fiction. It is a true masterpiece of Irish literature.

Saul Steinberg does Meta.

Saul Steinberg does Meta.

This book sounds just freaking awesome.  I want in.

 

Thoughts of Booze = Lessened Anxiety

December 6, 2012

While I wait in terror for the next round of edits on a piece, here, for you and me both, is a funny guide to holiday drinking from Matt Latkiewicz, who blogs here.

Sloshed: How to Drink Your Way Through the Christmas Season

Christmas is not a drinking holiday, per se (we have Saint Patrick’s Day and the Super Bowl for that), but it is the holiday that presents the strongest reasons todrink: family time, shopping madness, end-of-year ennui, sweater parties, cookie swaps, hearing “The Little Drummer Boy” for the fourteenth goddamn time in one day. The only sensible way to navigate the Yuletide gauntlet is with drink in hand.

 

But just as you (probably) shouldn’t give your grandma a gift subscription toDear & Deer Hunting magazine, you (definitely) shouldn’t just break out the eggnog and go wild. Instead, you’ve got to match your drinking to the particular holiday situation.

 

Visiting Your Family

As you grow older, Christmas at home becomes less about waiting until you can finally open that Sega Genesis you just know is under the tree and more about unwrapping something else: family dynamics. Add to that the trifecta of seasonal stress — travel, sleeping in someone else’s house (or your childhood bedroom), sitting around for hours on end with nothing to do but stare at a fire. To top it off, your family’s booze selection probably won’t be as good as yours.

 

Here’s the move: Get your own small supply of decent stuff (either travel with it, or pick up a few bottles at the nearest liquor shop — doesn’t matter) and anoint yourself bartender. In other words, take over. Delayed flights, forced interaction, and your sister-in-law’s newfound veganism are all out of your control; your cocktails will not be. If you’ve got similarly aged siblings, enlist their help.

 

Every day at five o’clock, make some classic drinks to go around. I tend to stick with martinis, but anything in the cocktail canon works. Offer to make things for any adult who’s nearby. You’ll be surprised by how happy they are to oblige your offer. “So fancy,” most of them will say, before no doubt telling you, “Gosh, I hope this doesn’t go straight to me head.” Be the classy relative, but don’t overdo it. Being buzzed with your family is fine; being hung-over with them is unbearable.

 

Hosting Your Relatives

You retain control over your booze in this scenario, but your house will be full of other people fucking up your stuff. “Uncle Matthew, where is the glue?” your brother’s 6-year-old kid will ask, innocently enough; “Well, that’s an interestingway to clean the counter,” your mom will say to you in the kitchen while your dad struggles with your TV’s three remote controls in the living room.

 

You’re going to have to get loose. Breaking out the barware at five sharp is too aggressive (also, do you want your family drinking up all your booze?). But pouring two fingers of some whiskey for yourself on an as-needed basis is a fine solution. Use a nice solid tumbler that can be easily set down on fireplace mantels, the carpet where puzzles are being put together — wherever. Drink slowly and get just lubed up enough that it won’t bother you too much when your nephew glues your bathroom cabinet shut.

 

Holiday Parties

Office-party drinking is its own beast (head here to help tame it), but you’ll also probably need to navigate a cookie swap or general holiday party in the next few weeks. The strategy here is simple: only accept invitations to parties you really, really want to attend (you’ve got the perfect excuse to decline anyway: “Ah, I’d love to but you know, the holidays are so busy!”). Treat any party you do go to the way you’d treat any night out with your friends.

 

The fly in the ointment is eggnog. Surely you will be offered some at some point and you will need to make a decision, fast. Here is the Official Sloshed Eggnog Policy: If it is fresh-made, from high-quality ingredients and a real recipe, there is no more appropriate thing to drink on a holiday evening. But if the ‘nog’s pedigree is in any way questionable — it came from a carton or jug; the friend who made it owns neither a bottle of rum nor a bottle of brandy — stay away or you will later regret a misguided effort to be festive.

 

Gift Shopping

Flask and backup flask. You don’t know how long you’ll be out there.

 

Caroling

You do not need a drinking strategy because if someone can convince you that caroling is a good idea, you’ve probably had too much to drink already.

 

Present-wrapping

This task would be bad enough if it only required tricky surface-area calculations and copious amounts of tape. But you also have to do it alone, hiding from everyone so as not to ruin the surprise of giving them exactly what they requested. Depending on your seasonal role, you might only have to wrap a couple of presents, or you might need to be behind closed doors for hours at a time as my poor mother was when my two siblings and I were growing up.

 

This is a wine bottle situation. Grab it by the neck, get a glass, and head upstairs to do your dirty work. While the 750-milliliter wine bottle is often said to be the perfect size for two people to share, it also happens to be the exact right amount for a single person cutting patterned paper and writing fuckloads of “To: and From:” cards.

 

Decorating

Decorating your (or your family’s) house for the holidays falls into two camps: ladder activities, and everything else. Start your day with the ladder things (light-hanging, wreath-adjusting, mistletoe-placing) and do so with nothing more than a Thermos of cocoa.

 

Move on to ground jobs and booze-drinking after. Go for a real hot toddy here. Tree-decorating — everything, really — is better when you’re feeling jolly.

Even Charming Pretty Girls Who Have New Kittens Can Have Bad Days

December 6, 2012

Reasons Why I Wanted to Control-Alt-Delete My Day

1. I stayed up until 3 AM for no real reason other than that I was stressed and also somewhat engrossed in an episode of a very bad television show.

2. I awoke feeling totally cracked out and already exhausted.

3. I got a piece back from an editor who said that while there was interesting stuff contained within, I “didn’t lay out the facts coherently.”

4. I had to oversee my boss’s pre-colonoscopy regimen (only juice and jello and laxatives for 24 hours) which resulted in him phoning his doctor at 3:30 and whining to the secretary that he was SO HUNGRY THIS CAN’T BE NORMAL.  (She was less than sympathetic.)

5. Others, on which I won’t elaborate.

Baby Molla

December 5, 2012

A while back, a video called Lovely Owl went way viral, mostly due to the footage of an adorable baby owl practically purring while being pet.  The video was shot at an owl sanctuary in Italy called I Falconieri delle Orobie, which I emailed yesterday to ask for an update on the little fella (lady, it turns out.)  Apparently Vice magazine had a similar idea to me, but they actually did a fancy follow-up and went to the sanctuary itself to play with the owls.  Below is my interaction with I Falconieri (my Italian is very limited.)

AWWWW!

AWWWW!

 

Me: Molla!  Come sta?

I: Molla  sta  bene  e  presto  metteremo su  fb delle    nuove foto  … Grazie

[Rough translation: She’s good and now you can see a new photo on Facebook.]

144th Street and Convent Avenue

December 4, 2012
House porn.  Big time.

House porn. Big time.

I wasn’t the first, I’m sure, to make a pilgrimage to the house at 144th and Convent, which has become famous as the house of the fictional Tenenbaum family.  During my freshman orientation at college, I decided to take a little journey deep into Harlem, where I subsequently got stranded and had to call a friend to meet me back at the corner of 115th and Broadway to pay for my taxi.  (There were ten million better ways I could have handled this, but I was a stupid eighteen-year-old, so cut me some slack!)

I’ve been contemplating buying the below print from the People’s Print Shop in order to be able to be with the house always, but honestly, the movie itself doesn’t hold so much of the same romantic draw it once did, as Anderson I feel is a rather twee filmmaker –– the house, however does, so if someone would like to arrange for me to take a private tour of it or to live in a spire bedroom for two weeks, I’d prefer that as a gift.  Merci!

111 Archer Avenue

111 Archer Avenue

Blog Cameo

December 4, 2012

In lieu of making anything original, I think I’ll link to my friend Every-day Prospects’ blog, where I’m featured talking about how hard it is to be charming.  Find me here.

An excerpt from her post, which is, as usual, measured and intelligent:

“It’s not that I don’t think writing and being good with people are valuable skills.  I am convinced that they are very valuable indeed.  You don’t decide to become a writer/social worker if you think that those ‘soft’ skills are too soft to shape real things.  I believe deeply in the practical worth of kindness and good communication skills—deeply enough to try and make them into a career that’s good for the world and good for me.  It’s just that those skills…you can’t catalogue them.  You can’t quantify them and you can’t show them off at a party.”

The Saddest Thing In the World

December 1, 2012

Twee design bloggers with ugly children.