Overheard in Deli Line

Deli worker: Does anyone have a number lower than 25?
Older woman with short, curly, old woman hair: [smiles, then raises her hand] I have 26.

I think she should forfeit her spot in line. At least she was still able to distinguish numbers under 100. I just hope she got dropped off by a geriatric shuttle.

Dream: Crushed

Dangerous Animals–Primates (HB 4801/PA 96‐1219): Prohibits a person from having in his or her possession any primate, except at a properly designated facility.

--http://downersgrove.patch.com/articles/nearly-200-state-laws-take-effect-jan-1

If you're going to defecate on my dream, the least you could do is have the decency to fling it at my face.

I don't want to live in a society where I can't own a monkey. This is America. And if I want to have a pet monkey to fetch me drinks and occasionally wear a butler outfit, that's my right. It's in the Constitution. Or Bill of Rights. One of those important texts. Magna Carta? Federalist papers? Someone help me out here.

Boston Itinerary

I will be spending 45 hours in Boston, before hopping on a bus down to New York. It has been argued by some in my office that I won't be able to see all of the below places. We shall check the ledger after I return.

Planned destinations:

• Fenway
• Freedom Trail
• Boston Massacre Site
• Faneuil Hall
• Paul Revere House
• Bunker Hill
• Sam Adams Tour
• JFK's Birthplace
• Mike's for cannolis

Am I missing anything?

Complimentary Strangers

A quick red fox jumped over the lazy brown dog. I like to eat pecan pie, oranges, pasta and guacamole.

I scribbled the above sentences last night on an unlined, blank white piece of paper as part of a lecture on handwriting analysis. My penmanship leaves a lot to be desired. I print and my signature has become more of a scrawl. I've always appreciated the field as a science and give it its due credibility. But if there were any doubts among the 30 or so gathered, they were quickly dismissed after the samples were analyzed.

Looking around the room as the lecturer highlighted areas (stem size, pressure, angle, dots above i's, how t's are crossed) to analyze in individual samples it was easy to pick out whose handwriting she held in her hand. Some would bow their head while taking better notes and others would nudge their spouse in the adjacent chair.

Equally enjoyable was when an area of analysis was discussed and the lecturer posed a question to the crowd. All of a sudden everyone was an expert. Loopy stems meant someone was arrogant to some in attendance. Shortly after that suggestion someone would perk up and contest the assertion. Likely the person who supplied that sample.

When discussing pen pressure the expert of the pen had picked up my piece of paper as an example along with a few others. As she looked at it in her vast wisdom, she commented that the person was very intelligent and was probably a very good student. It was at this exact moment that I confirmed she was a sage.

After the 90 minute lecture, I went to thank the woman for her time and sharing her expertise and to get a bit more flattery. Can we ever really have enough? Even though handwriting analysis is a science, it felt as though a psychic was reading your fortune. Upon further review she said that I'm analytical, a good manager, very good at explaining technical things to others, older/more mature than my age, caring and "have a bright future" ahead of me. She left out humble.

All this from a simple sentence about a fleet fox.

Enemies & Disowned Family Calling Plans

Waiting for my phone to be repaired, I completed level after level of Angry Birds on a sample phone at the local U.S. Cellular store. The repair had been needed for nearly a year, but I never found the time until today when an unforeseen interwebs outage at work resulted in a freebie afternoon to run wild. Some spent the free time sleeping or shopping. I spent my bonus three hours getting the stubborn bird diarrhea washed off the roof of my vehicle and getting my phone fixed. Lesson: Don't park under trees.

A mother and daughter entered the store and the mother disgustedly told the employee that her daughter lost her phone. "No, she lost it," she repeated. At this point I really wanted to ask if they tried calling it, but I was engrossed in my game and another man's story.

While I was developing a clinical addiction to the cell phone game phenomenon, a gentleman who looked to be in his early forties entered the store. Being the nosy multi-tasker I am, I eavesdropped to hear about his dilemma as I fought off kids from using the phone.

"I need to change the password on my account," he explained to one of the representatives.

"I purchased two phones and gave one to a friend...a roommate of mine," he corrected himself. "He has since moved out and I gifted the phone to my uncle."

The uncle apparently isn't living with him. I was disappointed that the man couldn't use the word "bequeath" in this context. I didn't get the impression this was an amicable parting of ways. It seemed like a "you took my CDs jerk face" sort of situation.

Truthfully, I was surprised the roommate didn't yoink the phone. Maybe it was a flip phone. It musn't have had Angry Birds installed on it. I'd stay in a relationship, no matter how intolerable, solely to continue playing that game. The roommate disappoints me. Based on the large amount I know about this partnership, it seems his subtle va te faire foutre was to not write down the four-digit password for the voicemail box. The poor uncle now has no idea why people wanted to reach him. What if he won a time share in Florida? What if a radio station was trying to reach him about a contest he won? A long-lost Nigerian royal relative perhaps is trying desperately to contact him.

If I have learned one thing from daytime television it is to never, ever give a cell phone to a friend or family member. Sure. It seems like a great idea. Maybe it costs you $10 and you split minutes you'll never use. Win-win. You look like a big shot UNTIL you decide to rescind your gift and all your Joni Mitchell albums are missing.

The repair person called my name and gave me my fixed phone.

There are times I wonder what I miss while toiling away at the office. Then there are moments like these when I'm reminded how great it can be to spend an hour in the wild.

Coping with Loss

Perhaps some of the fault is my own. The string of recent successful seasons has led me to believe Northwestern can be more than a stellar academic institution. Previously we merely had teams that were competitive in the BigTen, aside from a few of the aristocrat sports (lacrosse, tennis, golf). I still say we need to get a polo team if we are ever to make a true case for being the Ivy of the Midwest.

First, let me say that I love Northwestern. I love the education (and that expensive piece of paper) I received. I love our 'Cats. I love wearing purple on gameday. I love that I can go up to Evanston to watch the game, take a nap and still have the rest of my day.

The losses this season are tough to take. For a team that has moments of brilliance, looking like an unstoppable steamroller, there are equal if not more moments that counterbalance that image of dominance. I don't care to go into much detail, but how did we lose to Purdue? Against MSU a few weeks ago, the 'Cats looked fantastic. The offense was moving the ball and the defense had shut down the Spartans. Then it all unraveled in the fourth quarter. Then yesterday's game at Penn State only continued to reinforce the new style of play we can expect.

The Cardiac Cats can now best be described as manic. In past seasons, we would be down at the half and come out fighting in the second half. This season is the polar opposite. We come out of the tunnel fired up and destroy the opposition in the first half. Some times we play a strong third quarter, but ultimately we can't finish the games. If we can only play one strong half, could we make it the latter?

What added to the pain was viewing the second half at Kendalls with fellow Wildcat faithful. I watched the first half at home and figured it would be more fun to be around some people to celebrate JoePa's staying at 399. Minor note: we still get into the record books even if it is for being on the losing end and the biggest come back in JoePa's history as coach. Yeah us! The shrieks from the crowd only intensified the pain watching the finish of the game. At least at home I could have turned it off or not been ashamed to start openly weeping in public.

I am now forced to consider if some of the dismay lies in my expectations and hopes that the Wildcats do well on the playing field. Win or lose I will still cheer them on to victory, or an embarrassing loss. I will stay hopeful even if the scoreboard and reason tell me I shouldn't be. But I may have to hide Fitz on Facebook. We may need a break.

Go Northwestern Go! Or just for one half. Whatever you want to do.

Detroit--I hope you're ready for us.

Me, Neighborly?

If a good neighbor leaves passive aggressive notes and occasionally calls the police, then yes, I am a great neighbor. Your neighborhood would be lucky to have me.

Would I Survive No Internet for a Whole Month?

I'm working on not checking my emails in the middle of the night. I'm pretty certain this is a new medical condition. I simply need to know the daily Groupon before everyone else. Baby steps.

What Keeps Me Up at Night

I tend to get ideas for things to write as I lay in bed. It's frustrating, but my trusty digital recorder captures these deep thoughts. I intend to transcribe the 50 or so 15-second gems at some point.

Overheard at My Own Funeral

They really didn't do a good job on the makeup.

That Elusive Secret Ingredient

I'm going to tell you the secret to great, mind-blowing food. Can you keep a secret? And by keep a secret I mean promise to forward this to everyone you know and thereby drive up the traffic to this site resulting in a fat check of four cents to be auto-deposited to my Swiss bank account from AdWords.

Studies show--I'm sure they exist, if I had an assistant as God intended me to, they would have included a link to a study which would go right here--that it doesn't matter if you follow a recipe exactly or simply heat up a pre-made meal. There is an underlying secret step to phenomenal food:

Have someone else cook the food for you.

Simple as that. It makes EVERY recipe better. Why do you think they put "Serves 3-4 people" at the top of the recipe? Surprisingly, no one on my beloved Food Network or Cooking channel has shared this tip with you. As someone who loves to cook, my culinary creations always seem to taste better to those sharing in the meal than to me. Similarly, my mom's food will always taste better than what I make.

I challenge you and your taste buds to the following showdown.

We (or you and a friend, if you have one) both cook the exact same dish in the exact same kitchen. I would advise the dishes be prepared on different days to remove the process of cooking, which could skew the results. There's something about someone else making you food. Try it with different dishes: cans of soup, sandwiches, pastas, baked chicken, brussels sprouts. Well, maybe not that last one.

Psychologically (see non-existent paper above), knowing that someone cared enough about you to make you something to eat heightens the sensitivity of our taste buds, as long as they aren't trying to poison you. Note: make sure your cooking partner for the challenge doesn't secretly or openly want you dead. In this case your dish may just taste a little different than the one you cook for them. That taste is cyanide or arsenic. You should be calling 911 right now. You are in no condition to drive. Stop questioning the smirk on your former friend's face. GO!

Even that hospital Jell-o tastes better than if you had made it, doesn't it?

Pleasant eating!

Notes on a Dream

I'm not prone to dreaming, save the recurrent daydreams while staring out the window at the office. When I do dream they are often vivid, memorable and not far off from my waking life. But last night was one of those nights. Has anyone ever studied the relation of "dream time" and "real time"? I can have 1-2 dreams for the duration of the night, but not a ton happens in the dreams (consider this foreshadowing for what's about to come).

For some reason I was heading up the stairs to the family home of the object of my affection freshman year in high school. It was in the downtown area of a city, but didn't feel like it was an urban epicenter. Mon cherie and I took French together pour un ans, and one quarter I had the fortune of sitting behind her. During the year I knew her, we talked, at best, for no more than a few hours, most of which was in French.  Given that my courting style in high school could best be described as "stalker-esque" this was a preferred location to sitting in front of her. Slipping your prof a few francs doesn't hurt your cause when scouting a new seat. I wonder if teachers know when their pupils have crushes on others in the class. Do they ever put you à côté de your paramour?

What's odd to me is that she's visited me a few times in my dreams, which makes me wonder who I visit. We didn't know each other that well. I remember the day I mustered up enough courage to talk to her outside of class. It was after school and she was heading toward her car and I was heading to the bus. And by "talk to her" I mean asking her how she was and after she said "good" telling her I would see her tomorrow. That's the stuff of romance novels.

So we were in the home and it had one of those bookshelf doors as well as a staircase leading to a second level. "A rarity in most urban dwellings," I thought. I commented to her that she had a really nice home. Still got the magic of conversation with my crushes.

I really should stop killing time at Crate and Barrel and definitely cease watching House Hunters before bed.

à la prochaine fois mon amie.

A Little Off the Top

It isn't easy to bounce back from a rather overt insult from Juan, the stylist at Great Clips. Granted my hair grows back slightly faster than Chicagoans jumped on the Blackhawks bandwagon, getting a hair cut is always an exercise in trust. "Hey stranger, here's $15. Go nuts with scissors in close proximity to my face."

Typically the stylist person will compliment me on how nice my hair is and that I'll never go bald. I have what some might call a "jew fro," thanks in large part to Italian and Russian jew-itage. After growing my dome out during the winter, it was time to snip those locks off and send them to the cleanup effort in the Gulf.

After Juan finished up, he asked "would you like me to trim your brows?"

I paused. This wasn't something I was accustomed to being asked.

"No, it's OK," I replied as I started envisioning all the potential disastrous outcomes. His hand could slip and I'd end up with one eyebrow and if I've learned anything from TLC and Oprah, beauty is all about symmetry. So, I'd have to sacrifice the perfectly good, bushy brow for the sake of beauty. Then each day I'd have to get up early to draw on my eyebrows. I never was good at art, whether it was crayons, colored pencils or a paintbrush. Then there would be the decision of what type of brows I wanted for the upcoming day. I could craft angry brows, confused brows, pensive. Infinite possibilities.

"But they are so bushy," he interrupted my mental freak out.

I remained silent wondering if I could purchase eyebrow stencils.

"Well, if you think you look good," he said before he took the superhero cape off, flinging my dead hair to the floor.

Well, I did think I looked good before I met you. I put on my hat and headed back into the rain toward my car where, once inside, I would put down the visor and stare at my eyebrows. 

"Bushy?" I thought to myself as my face morphed in the small mirror into that of Groucho Marx.

Shut Up or I'll Jump

A few notes on this gem:
-I considered throwing myself from a moving car a month ago and were it not for those pesky child safety locks, I would have succeeded.
-How upset do you think he was when he discovered he was at the hospital? Even worse if she was standing over him.
-Twenty-three and three kids? No mention if they were his.
-I think this tactic is known as "avoidance" in conflict resolution parlance.

Husband reportedly jumps from car | The Leaf Chronicle:
A man was flown to Vanderbilt University Medical Center on Thursday evening after he jumped from a moving vehicle.

According to a Montgomery County Sheriff’s Office report, the 23-year-old man, his wife and three children were headed toward Clarksville on Guthrie Highway when the two adults began arguing.

At one point during the argument, Deputy Blake Neblett reported the man told his wife to “shut up.” When she refused, the man jumped from the moving vehicle.

A witness traveling behind the vehicle told Neblett it appeared the man jumped from the vehicle.

The man was in the trauma unit at VUMC on Friday, and in critical but stable condition, according to the hospital.

Infomercial Montage

I love a good infomercial.

This montage of people doing things the wrong way on infomercials would be the supercut of your nightmares if you could nightmare right, you incompetent boob.

Update: OK, duh, Everything Is Terrible did this first and without any canned music:

I feel like such an ass for missing this, especially after going on about how much I love EIT. I guess the lesson here is WE'RE ALL DOING IT WRONG. (Thanks, tone_def.)

L'autobus Vignettes

As I embarked on a post-work walk after a stressful day at the office my mind wandered as it tends to wander. Today it focused on buses and the things that change when you become an adult.

During the better half of junior high, I used to strategically select a seat on the bus. Conveniently for me, my bus crush's stop was a few after mine and the bus was reasonably full by the time she would board. I'd scan for that prime open seat. On those lucky days, I'd snag it then wait in hopes that we'd sit together for those few fleeting, bumpy minutes. Some days I'd sit on the aisle hopping she'd ask me if I minded if she sat next to me. Others, I'd sit by the window, so the open seat was clearly visible. Maybe we'd compare homework or discuss whether we wanted to wed on the beach or in the mountains. Sadly, she opted to sit with other friends and started dating a guy on another bus route. We never had the opportunity to firm up our matrimony plans.

Garbage

In a daily update I send for my job I include famous birthdays and random facts. Today, I included a note that this date in 1970 was the first Earth Day. A woman in the office emailed me to share that she remembered being in elementary school and celebrating Earth Day by picking up garbage with her class. Things certainly change as you get older. If you pick up garbage as an adult, it is either court ordered or you're one of those people.

Status Updates From My Almost Proposal

Simply watching Giada's show on a daily basis isn't enough. I needed to profess my love the only way I know how--inappropriately at a book signing. So, I took a half day and zipped to the mall on my lunch to purchase her new cookbook and await my destiny. This was my first book signing for someone I have a borderline infatuation with. For some, they get tongue tied around athletes or actors. For me, it's people from the Food Network.

I patiently waited in line with the aging population of America and listened to them drone on about their grandchildren. If they weren't married and older than 60, they were in their 50s and with their daughters, who felt it necessary to discuss their boyfriends and how much they love Giada. I'm not saying I was there to pick-up women. My main goal was to make my case for why Giada should leave her successful husband and elope with me for a life of mediocrity. Call me a home wrecker. I'm OK with that. Nevertheless, I figured I'd warm-up on the 450 ladies of the line.

From Giada and other things of beauty

Tue at 11:55am
Now would be the appropriate time to hide me if you are not a fan of Giada. Off to hopefully get her book and get it signed. She better write "with love."

Tue at 1:31pm
upwards of 25 people await the arrival of giada at oak brooks crate and barrel. more inside. oh the fervor!

Tue at 2:12pm
notes from the line: learning about how u carry a baby is a foreshadower of the baby's sex. im losing masculinity by the minute.

Tue at 2:51pm
almost go time. which likely means waiting in a line but indoors. WHAT TO SAY?!

Tue at 3:20pm
in the store! buying a second pair of pants was a smart move.

Tue at 3:50pm
OMFG. there comes a point un every mans life that can be looked at in the future as a defining moment. today was probably not that day. upside, didnt get arrested. now i enter the post giada phase of my life.

Regrets from an Occasional Blogger

I wonder if Jesus would have been a blogger. If so, would he have a lot of followers? Would he comment on his disciples' musings?

There are two types of people in this world: those that comment on blog posts and those that don't.

I regretfully am in the latter bucket. It isn't that I don't want to read what others write, I simply haven't allocated the time to do so. I think it all started that fateful day when I subscribed to a few magazines, one of which being a weekly. One of the subscriptions has since run its course and I didn't renew. There are still four or five issues in their snug cellophane. That leaves two dense mags that skimp on pictures and continue to make me reach for the dictionary. I've yet to determine if this makes me feel challenged or deserving of the short bus. My goal is to be reading issues in the same month as my Legends of Jazz wall calendar displays. It's an ongoing literacy battle. I took out a speed reading book, but apparently getting the audiobook version was a wasted effort.

The Art of the Self-Invite

I have no qualms about inviting myself to your party. Let's be honest, you simply forgot to check my name when you were sorting through your contact list. No big deal. I could see how that happened. I'm not offended. I'll still show up with a beverage or snack item.

If any of the following sound reminiscent or have happened to you, fret not:

• Your coworkers come in on Monday and talk about their scurrilous weekend together
• Your Facebook feed is dominated by parties you weren't invited to
• Perhaps you Photoshop yourself into group shots

If you often find yourself on the uninvited list (also known as the shit list), there's a simple solution. All you need is the address. Yes, there will be some uncomfortable moments. You may get some doors closed in your face--think of the back door as a second opportunity. If you've brought some beer or medium-tier fermented beverage, the collective thirst of the group will outweigh their disdain for you. Initially it might be wise to avoid glass containers. Alcohol is to a party what beads and shells were to the Native Americans. (As an aside, the Native Americans were the first group to truly know the joys of gentrification.)

In no time you'll be known as "that guy who shows up." Use Twitter and social networks as your tools. Don't think of it as stalking. As soon as they hit publish, it's public information. I'm not sure about the legality of this, but it sounds solid.

Once you've mastered this, the brass ring is the wedding invite. Instead of booze, you'll want to bring a toaster or kitchen appliance. Don't over do it and get a Kitchen-Aid, then you'll get invited to everyone's wedding and go broke. I will take this opportunity to announce that should you be in the greater metropolitan Chicago area, I may be able to lend my services, but I will need a formal invite.

If Onlys

If I could read faster I'd...
If I lived downtown I'd...
If I had more time I'd...

If I had more money I'd...

If I could do anything I'd...

If I met her I'd...
If I could leave tomorrow I'd...
If I had more energy I'd...
If I were stronger I'd...
If I could be anywhere I'd...
If I had more time I'd...
If I'd gone to meet her I'd...

If only I could stop thinking about if.

Pockets and Purses Give Up Their Secrets - Lens Blog

Pockets and Purses Give Up Their Secrets - Lens Blog - NYTimes.com

You are what you carry, which makes me two slightly used tissues, a month-old issue of New Yorker, a camera and some eye drops.

What do you carry that best defines you?

Two Catholic Kids and a Cart

Sitting in her SUV, we both blankly stared forward. We had made a rookie mistake. Had we learned anything from the caper movies we'd seen growing up, we'd have known to case the joint. Instead we rolled up expecting an easy heist. My friend assumed the role of getaway driver and my penchant for pilates made me the muscles of the operation.

Waiting for dark and fearing that it might be our last should things go awry, we sat down after work for a two-course dinner. We managed to keep the conversation on everything but the task before us.

First Few Breaths

After a day of honking and sniffling
a tissue taking the place of a hand
sleep brings relief

After falling asleep in your day clothes
you awake and
for a brief moment
you can breathe through your nose
who cares that it's just one side

After a few breaths
and thinking the symptoms gone
the sinus flood gates open

Male breast op numbers 'growing fastest'

Men want rid of them. Women want 'em. Can't we all just be happy with what we don't have?

BBC News - Male breast op numbers 'growing fastest':

Breast reduction for men is the fastest-growing part of the cosmetic surgery industry for the second year running, plastic surgeons have said.

The number of such operations rose from 323 in 2008 to 581 last year - an 80% increase - the British Association of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons said.

Shared: 'Dancing With the Stars' Co-Host Leaving Show : TVBizwire : TVWeek - Television Industry news, TV ratings, analysis, celebrity event photos

Seriously? This gig is that hard? And your duties are that demanding at Insider? I bet Kelly Ripa takes her spot.

'Dancing With the Stars' Co-Host Leaving Show : TVBizwire : TVWeek - Television Industry news, TV ratings, analysis, celebrity event photos:

ABC’s “Dancing With the Stars” is losing one of its co-hosts, People.com reports.

The popular show is currently hosted by two people, Tom Bergeron and Samantha Harris.

It's Harris who is leaving.

She said she’s leaving because she needs to concentrate on her correspondent job at “The Insider.”

2 Takes on Pork Chops for Quick Eats after Work

Feeling the need to cook more at home, I tried two takes on pork chops the past two nights. Both recipes are quick solutions to make a decently healthy dinner after work.

Round 1: Pork chops with mushrooms, red onion, broccoli and garlic.
Time: 30-40 minutes.

Shared: 43 Simple Ways To Simplify Your Life

The first few are nearly impossible, but worthwhile goals.

43 Simple Ways To Simplify Your Life:
"Reducing complexity in my life has reduced stress, increased free time, and top priorities are actually top priorities. When we simplify as much as we can we are better able to slow down and enjoy each moment as opposed to rushing through it."

Shared: McDonald's 'wrong' to fire worker over cheese slice - Telegraph

If anything this person should have been promoted. While the person lucked out in the end after the judgment, it's a bit sad that 5 months wages amounted to £3,660 ($5k).

McDonald's 'wrong' to fire worker over cheese slice - Telegraph: "A McDonald's restaurant was wrong to fire a worker for giving a colleague an extra piece of cheese on a hamburger, a Dutch court ruled on Tuesday."

Shared: School Outlaws "Sexual Bending" - January 26, 2010

I wonder if they had a demonstration...

School Outlaws "Sexual Bending" - January 26, 2010:
JANUARY 26--Like many educators nationwide, administrators at a Wisconsin high school are aiming to curb risque moves at an upcoming school dance.

Best part: "Which appears to rule out performances of the Charleston, Electric Slide, and Cha-Cha."

Shared: Alexander the Great's ring stolen from theft show

Are you telling me they didn't see this coming?

Alexander the Great's ring stolen from theft show
| Reuters:

"Burglars on Wednesday broke into the Ashdod Museum where hundreds of artifacts recovered from the black-market were on show and snatched several valuable items, including a silver ring belonging to Alexander the Great and gold earrings."

Human "bed-warmers" at Holiday Inn

How much if the person stays in the bed?

Human "bed-warmers" at Holiday Inn: "LONDON (Reuters) - International hotel chain Holiday Inn is offering a trial human bed-warming service at three hotels in Britain this month.

Shared: Tiny, Magical Worlds Inside Toilet Paper Rolls

Pretty magical.

Tiny, Magical Worlds Inside Toilet Paper Rolls: "

Shared: More Than Fit to Sit: 15 Clever Bench Ads

I love creative adverstisements like these.

More Than Fit to Sit: 15 Clever Bench Ads: "[ By Steph in Guerilla Marketing & Ads, Subvertising & Counter-Ads, Urban Images. ]

Shared: Preach it

17: ""

Shared: 2009 in photos- The Big Picture - Boston.com

Some great images from 2009.

2009 in photos (part 1 of 3) - The Big Picture - Boston.com

Shared: Too Good To Be True? The Transparent Toaster | Apartment Therapy San Francisco

Amazingness.

Too Good To Be True? The Transparent Toaster | Apartment Therapy San Francisco

Cookin' With Cougars

For the record, I do my own laundry. It's best I start the story there.

I knew what I signed up for when registering for a cooking class in the city. Intended to facilitate new connections among Chicagoans, the gourmet cooking party attracted about 20 people into a room outfitted with gourmet kitchen equipment on the lower level of the Belden-Stratford hotel in Lincoln Park. The crowd was markedly divided. Most of the men were in their late-20s and the women easily in their mid-30s. While I was watching Saved by the Bell after school, these women were unwinding after work with episodes of Murphy Brown.

Milk Would've Been Nice

Frosted Shredded Wheat
Largely based on the lack of soy milk this morning, I discovered its necessity when consuming my morning bowl 'o cereal. Crunchy cereal just isn't the same as racing the sog monster. I like to keep it juvenile and motor through a bowl of cereal every morning.

Shared: The Yay Scale! - Feministing

But how is this calibrated?!

The Yay Scale! - Feministing

A Peek Into Netflix Queues - NYTimes.com

Really cool visualization of Netflix rentals.

A Peek Into Netflix Queues - NYTimes.com

Facebook's sexy bra stunt - THE WEEK

Men Unite! Tomorrow--what color are your socks? Foot fungus awareness.

Facebook's sexy bra stunt - THE WEEK:
"This weekend, Facebook newsfeeds exploded with a rainbow of terse but colorful updates — 'blue,' 'pink,' 'black and lacy' — mystifying social networkers. The culprit: A message chain urging women to post their bra colors in the name of breast cancer awareness: 'Write the color, nothing else,' the anonymous call-to-action read. 'It will be fun to see how long it takes before the men will wonder why all the girls have a color in their status.' Did the stunt, unsupported by the Breast Cancer Association, do any good — or was it just flirty 'slacktivism'?"

Emails From Crazy People � Let’s Prey

Solid. Thanks Kate.

Emails From Crazy People � Let’s Prey

Northwestern kicker Stefan Demos doesn't let Outback Bowl nightmare get him down - chicagotribune.com

Still hurts.

Northwestern kicker Stefan Demos doesn't let Outback Bowl nightmare get him down - chicagotribune.com

He walked around Welsh-Ryan Arena the other night as if he were running for mayor of Evanston.

Outfitted prominently in a walking boot and black shirt with a purple "N" logo, he chatted with university President Morton Schapiro and sat at halfcourt for an interview with WGN-AM 720.

You might have envisioned Stefan Demos entering the Witness Security Program after missing that game-winner in the Outback Bowl, but he has taken the opposite tact since returning to campus.

Overheard at Lunch

While watching CNN:

Looks like Al Qaeda is hiring.

Shared: New Year's resolution: Have more sex - CNN.com

But where am I going to find 30 women on such short notice?

New Year's resolution: Have more sex - CNN.com

(CNN) -- Yoga instructor Sadie Nardini and her husband got an early start on their New Year's resolution: In December, the New York couple decided to have sex every day for the entire month.

Nardini and her husband, a professional photographer, initially decided to have sex like bunnies in the hopes that all the activity might help them overcome his-and-her bad habits: cigarettes and chocolate, respectively. And indeed, the nightly trysts did help. But they also found, unexpectedly, that frequent sex made them feel better in other ways, too.

Memories of Tampa

When you put 20 twenty-somethings in a hotel with copious boozage, good times are guaranteed. Some reflections on things I learned, things I heard, things I hope to not hear again and miscellaneous memories from a wild week in Tampa for the Outback Bowl:

• If you add the word "celebrity" to whatever you're doing, it makes it instantly more appealing. Thanks Dave.
• Getting less than 5 hours of sleep a night, then waking up and repeating.
• Adding Jenny on Facebook, then standing right next to her as she checked her Blackberry and asked "Does anyone know who this Andrew is?" She claimed she was bad with last names.
  
• Shotgun duels.
• Challenging waitresses to down dishes of ranch dressing after someone at the table wouldn't do it.
• Getting the number of ladies under the age of 30. (This is new for me.)
• Running into Joe Montana at Tropicana Field on a impromptu day trip.
• Going nearly perfect at flip cup. I'm considering going pro.