I spent far more hours this afternoon than I wanted trying on jeans. For years, I have either avoided jeans or worn ones that didn't fit. But now, I know enough about my body and clothes and I have enough money for higher standards. I know only to bother with the "relaxed" or "curvy" or "wide legged" styles. At Gap, I took size 8 long and 10 long in Essential, Curvy, and Boot Cut (because they were on sale). They were $50. The Curvy 10 longs were OK, but the waist too big, and I don't really want to wear a 10. So, I passed.
I know the Easy Rider jeans at Lucky size 27 long fit me perfectly, but they're $100 and I already have a pair. I asked them if they have a darker color, but they don't.
Ann Taylor is usually a safe, if conservative bet, but they aren't carrying any casual non-capri pants this season.
Diesel was right there, and I have heard about Diesel jeans -- mostly that they are ridiculously expensive ($180). I'm willing to pay for jeans that fit; so, I thought I would give them a chance. I explained my situation to the sales lady, and she selected a few for me to try. They didn't fit. I nearly burst into tears.
I was going to give up, but I happened to glance into Old Navy which has never made clothes for my body. They have a new selection of jean styles: the Diva, the Sweetheart, and the Flirt. The Sweetheart have a "relaxed leg". After trying on at least 10 of them (Old Navy clothes vary within a size), I bought 2 of the 6 longs. They were $30.
Do you already know what I am about to say? By now, I know myself pretty well. I know what size I wear. I know which styles might fit me. I know what looks good on my body. But I still had to try on about 30 jeans today. Each pair, I truly, madly, deeply wanted to fit. It was exactly like dating.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Spenger's
My mother used to get shrimp scampi from the "to go" counter, and we would eat it eagerly in our unwashed kitchen or down by the marina on top of the car. I found the images and ideas of the old salty sailors a little scary -- long beards, scratchy booming voices, rough manners.... I took Spenger's for granted although I never wanted to lie on its carpet (like I did most carpets -- even on the BART train).
My best sailing girlfriend, Joyce, finally returned from sailing for 6 weeks in Tonga. Her stories include big waves and staying on course, accidental jibes in ocean passages with high seas, trouble with wind directions.... She told me some of them perched on the edge of our Precision as she gently corrected my point of sail. I told her that I used to say I sail because I like to drink, but now I say if you aren't wet and bruised you aren't really sailing. She said I've become saltier. Under her guidance, I did not crash into anything while docking.
After our little jaunt on the water, we went to Spenger's, where I haven't been in about 25 years, for my fish-and-chips project. I also had to get a Mai Tai. Both were fine, unremarkable. The drink lacked layering and an umbrella but contained lots of fruit. The chips were good if a bit limp. The fish was unimpressive in size and texture and the batter was... not the variety I prefer, more like bread crumbs.
They have a happy hour starting at 9 p.m. where a number of dishes are just 2 dollars. Joyce wanted to order every one on the menu, but I talked her down to 4, then 3. The best one was the shrimp scampi. We ate about one and half, and I took one home in a box.
My best sailing girlfriend, Joyce, finally returned from sailing for 6 weeks in Tonga. Her stories include big waves and staying on course, accidental jibes in ocean passages with high seas, trouble with wind directions.... She told me some of them perched on the edge of our Precision as she gently corrected my point of sail. I told her that I used to say I sail because I like to drink, but now I say if you aren't wet and bruised you aren't really sailing. She said I've become saltier. Under her guidance, I did not crash into anything while docking.
After our little jaunt on the water, we went to Spenger's, where I haven't been in about 25 years, for my fish-and-chips project. I also had to get a Mai Tai. Both were fine, unremarkable. The drink lacked layering and an umbrella but contained lots of fruit. The chips were good if a bit limp. The fish was unimpressive in size and texture and the batter was... not the variety I prefer, more like bread crumbs.
They have a happy hour starting at 9 p.m. where a number of dishes are just 2 dollars. Joyce wanted to order every one on the menu, but I talked her down to 4, then 3. The best one was the shrimp scampi. We ate about one and half, and I took one home in a box.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Harry Potter and the Deathly Harrows (not a book review)
Everyone's got it. I just put myself on the list to get it from the library. I am number 671. A fellow shuttle rider asked me why I don't just buy a copy. I said: "because I'm into denying myself the small pleasures of life." The real reason is that I don't want to deal with having it after I've read it. I only buy books used, from small independent publishers or by unestablished writers. JK Rowling doesn't need my money. I care more about that than immediate gratification.
Bride & Prejudice (2004)
I borrowed this movie from the library on a whim. Pride and Prejudice was a very important book for me in high school, and I figured I should see every movie inspired by the book. I didn't even notice that this is a Bollywood musical or that they changed one of the letters in the title. My expectations were very low based on the dvd cover and even lower when I noticed the name, but I didn't figure out the movie's genre until it started playing.
I used to love romantic movies because I used to believe that was possible and consider love stories a lesson for my future. I don't anymore. I avoid them. I told Matt the other day that I'm "cured", but cured of what? And is that good? ...Anyway, that's not what I'm talking about today.
This marriage of Jane Austen and Bollywood is a perfect match! It was fresh and exciting and remarkably true to the book while also believable for a modern Indian family. When the movie ended, I vowed to incorporate more dance into my daily life. We should merge mundane conversations with little songs, bright colors, and some shimmying. Join me, won't you, because I can't do it on my own. Dance with me!
I used to love romantic movies because I used to believe that was possible and consider love stories a lesson for my future. I don't anymore. I avoid them. I told Matt the other day that I'm "cured", but cured of what? And is that good? ...Anyway, that's not what I'm talking about today.
This marriage of Jane Austen and Bollywood is a perfect match! It was fresh and exciting and remarkably true to the book while also believable for a modern Indian family. When the movie ended, I vowed to incorporate more dance into my daily life. We should merge mundane conversations with little songs, bright colors, and some shimmying. Join me, won't you, because I can't do it on my own. Dance with me!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Death and Life
A while back, Tyler got me to sign up for okcupid, a free internet dating site with lots of fun tests. One of the tests included a series of questions:
• If you could save someone by killing yourself, would you?
• If you could save 50 people by killing yourself, would you?
• If you could save 10,000 people by killing yourself, would you?
My honest answer (I believe) to each of these questions was “no”. I think it goes back to the idea that if you want something done right you have to do it yourself, but my survival instinct is just too strong. I can’t imagine ever being that noble.
Or am I? You know how on the airplane, you’re always supposed to put your own mask on first before you assist others? It makes sense to me that if anyone needs saving, I would like to be there to actively do it. How do you know that your death will be effective in saving others?
Tina said it would depend on who it was. If it was her sister, then she would definitely die for her. If it was someone else, she’s less sure. But suppose Tina is on a boat with her sister and her sister falls off the boat. Tina jumping off the boat isn’t going to help anything, because then neither of them can get back on the boat. Tina’s sister would need to take some active measure to save herself by, say, swimming to the boat and pulling herself onto it.
The examples of the oxygen mask and the boat resonate most with me. They seem most like how the world works. On This American Life this week, the topic was “who can you save?” All the stories were fascinating. One was about a thought experiment like this: if you could save 4 men by flipping a switch that kills another one instead, would you? If you could save 4 men by actively killing another (pushing him off a bridge), would you? Most people say yes to the first and no to the second. This is odd since they are essentially the same thing.
A researcher asked people these questions while performing a brain scan on them. He found that different areas of the people’s brains fired more for each question, indicating that whichever biological reaction is louder is the one we obey (his hypothesis).
I feel profoundly troubled by the idea of actively killing another person by any mechanism. I am troubled by any association between choice and death. In high school, when everything was SO DEEP I read a book where people described their near-death experiences. They described a white light and dead loved ones calling to them from the other side. I think I remember a story where a dead loved on told the narrator to go back; that this isn’t the right time.
My mother says that my grandmother didn’t want to die when she did, but her body, and perhaps her family, gave up on her. Other times, you hear stories about people with relatively minor injuries going to the other side anyway. Decisions about life and death are profoundly personal. I don’t believe that I would be the right one to make a decision for another person, or 50 people, or 10,000 people, and yet, at the same time, I believe it is the responsibility of everyone in a community (in the form of social services) to facilitate life.
• If you could save someone by killing yourself, would you?
• If you could save 50 people by killing yourself, would you?
• If you could save 10,000 people by killing yourself, would you?
My honest answer (I believe) to each of these questions was “no”. I think it goes back to the idea that if you want something done right you have to do it yourself, but my survival instinct is just too strong. I can’t imagine ever being that noble.
Or am I? You know how on the airplane, you’re always supposed to put your own mask on first before you assist others? It makes sense to me that if anyone needs saving, I would like to be there to actively do it. How do you know that your death will be effective in saving others?
Tina said it would depend on who it was. If it was her sister, then she would definitely die for her. If it was someone else, she’s less sure. But suppose Tina is on a boat with her sister and her sister falls off the boat. Tina jumping off the boat isn’t going to help anything, because then neither of them can get back on the boat. Tina’s sister would need to take some active measure to save herself by, say, swimming to the boat and pulling herself onto it.
The examples of the oxygen mask and the boat resonate most with me. They seem most like how the world works. On This American Life this week, the topic was “who can you save?” All the stories were fascinating. One was about a thought experiment like this: if you could save 4 men by flipping a switch that kills another one instead, would you? If you could save 4 men by actively killing another (pushing him off a bridge), would you? Most people say yes to the first and no to the second. This is odd since they are essentially the same thing.
A researcher asked people these questions while performing a brain scan on them. He found that different areas of the people’s brains fired more for each question, indicating that whichever biological reaction is louder is the one we obey (his hypothesis).
I feel profoundly troubled by the idea of actively killing another person by any mechanism. I am troubled by any association between choice and death. In high school, when everything was SO DEEP I read a book where people described their near-death experiences. They described a white light and dead loved ones calling to them from the other side. I think I remember a story where a dead loved on told the narrator to go back; that this isn’t the right time.
My mother says that my grandmother didn’t want to die when she did, but her body, and perhaps her family, gave up on her. Other times, you hear stories about people with relatively minor injuries going to the other side anyway. Decisions about life and death are profoundly personal. I don’t believe that I would be the right one to make a decision for another person, or 50 people, or 10,000 people, and yet, at the same time, I believe it is the responsibility of everyone in a community (in the form of social services) to facilitate life.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Quick update
I mentioned earlier that I've become one of "those people" which now turns out to mean that I don't even have the time to blog that I want. A few things I want to tell you about are:
1) I biked to work again yesterday except this time we took the hilly route about 50 miles took 5 hours. My companions were 3 strapping young men all very patient with me. And the ride was SO BEAUTIFUL I hardly know what to say to communicate that to you. I think the hilly route is probably worth the climbs and extra 15 miles for the views.
2) I went to LA the other weekend and had a great time. I also lost my sunglasses in the ocean. I want to describe the trip in greater detail.
3) The Slate Gabfest discussed "slicing the apple" of the war in Iraq. I think this is an interesting idea worth picking apart.
4) Charlie did a group reading of their creative writing Wednesday night, and I jotted down a few ideas and turns of phrase I like. I bought the book so should be able to reference accurately.
5) Book review of The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy
Consider it all forthcoming.
Photo by Allen Tom
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Stumbling from defeat to defeat
Someone at the gallery made a print of this quote: "Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." -Anais Nin. Except that I think the artist at my gallery wrote "Love" instead of "Life". I looked it up on the ever-reliable interweb and found it this way. I also found the title to this post as part of a less-interesting longer quote.
Most of my life I've worried that people didn't like me so much as think I'm pretty. After a while, I realized that I'm not actually THAT pretty. But I had the experience again last night at my gallery opening party. I spent a long time chatting with a guy about my work, even gave him my card, but I think he was more interested in the artist than the work. Alas!
Then a bunch of us went to Revolution for drinks, and Kristin and I picked up 3 20-year-old boys. One asked me how old I am, which offended me, but he saved himself by saying that he knew I was older because I was completely comfortable in a bar. We tried to go to another bar, but the boys would have been carded. The one I liked didn't seem inclined to make out with me in an alley someplace. So, Kristin and I left them at Cancun and went home.
Most of my life I've worried that people didn't like me so much as think I'm pretty. After a while, I realized that I'm not actually THAT pretty. But I had the experience again last night at my gallery opening party. I spent a long time chatting with a guy about my work, even gave him my card, but I think he was more interested in the artist than the work. Alas!
Then a bunch of us went to Revolution for drinks, and Kristin and I picked up 3 20-year-old boys. One asked me how old I am, which offended me, but he saved himself by saying that he knew I was older because I was completely comfortable in a bar. We tried to go to another bar, but the boys would have been carded. The one I liked didn't seem inclined to make out with me in an alley someplace. So, Kristin and I left them at Cancun and went home.
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