The Techne of Food or Sex

An interesting article was passed onto me which suggests that food has become a great deal more significant than mere sustenance, and that breaking society's accepted eating codes is now comparable to breaking sexual morality codes. Simply, the author states "there is a new scarlet letter in town: its spelled XXL."

For context on my comments to follow, read the article....

I am strongly convicted by this article. I try my best not to sell out to contemporary trends or dogmas, but it seems I have incrementally and blindly fallen into the snobbish ways of the foodies. I recently heard Christian Lander, author of Stuff White People Like, speak in Boulder. He suggested that the premise of his media concept is that classes remain divided and one's class is designated by that which he consumes. In congruence with this notion food is, above all, a designation of one's lifestyle, education, and community. Do you eat small or large portions? Do you eat organic? Do you eat local? Do you eat often? Do you sit down to eat or eat on-the-go? Each answer connotes something different and ultimately serves to classify the individual. 

We have fashioned an entire moral code based on our food consumption and bought into it with such diligence  and fervor that we are completely unaware of it. I, for one, have recently fallen hard for it. Last summer, a couple friends and I participated in a community supported agriculture (CSA) program. We did it to learn how to cook vegetables and to save money on produce for the summer. Little did we know we had actually bought our ticket into a whole new social class where "proper" consumption of food (local, organic, etc) was the superior moral behavior. I found myself mentioning this little tidbit in random places to test how widely we might receive affirmation for our good behavior. In church, on the bus, at the grocery store, at parties, the conversation would come up (or rather, I would force it up) that we "had to pick up our food share this weekend" and people everywhere gave us deep nods of approval and pats on the back. It was the most socially acceptable and progressive activity I participated in all year. We were also introduced to a whole new world of like-minded people, where good food consumption is like superior morale behavior; understanding of food and all its nutrients and chemical components is like understanding theology; organic farmers are like high priests; and a good chef like an archdiocese. It is a sub-culture, a marketing scheme, a code to which one subscribes, a manufactured lifestyle,  a techne, truly no different than any other throughout all of human hsitory. As such, any techne can be broken down and classified into its various parts, so let us analyze the food techne of Boulder by identifying its terminology: 

Organic

Local

Natural

Food blogs

Fresh ingredients

Omega-3

Raw Food

Healthy

Progressive

Whole

Hearty

Seasonal

I studied my new techne, and put it into practice. Food blogs, cooking, eating out, talking about food, diagnosing ailments according to what I ate, essentially making food a definitive part of my entire existence. My superior food lifestyle provided me a better position to make mistakes, criticize others, and preach a dogma. 

But here is the scariest part about this societal techne over others. It is disguised. The foodie does not believe he is subscribing to a code or marketing ploy. In fact, of all lifestyles, this appears the least commercialized, but for this reason it is the most sneaky. My own excitement with good food is one very much manifested out of a shameful Food History. My family, in our great struggle for resources, relied exclusively upon WIC when I was a child, and of course none of the above-listed terminology made it into our vocabulary. Our lack of resources and education, aka our social class, is that which prevented participation in the foodie club. Now, with my  participation in this exclusive new food club, I feel I have taken a step forward from my WIC days. 

But this must stop. Immediately. I, along with foodies everywhere, have entered a place that does not lead to better individual health and a better society, but to snobbery, leading only to division and classism.

We can argue that society drew awareness to our consumption of food in order to address the adverse health effects of obesity, etc, but now we are left with just another canon, and one which continues to leave significant populations marginalized. Can every person, with all the diversity of lifestyles and varying access to resources, reasonably be expected to adhere to this moral food code? Absolutely not.  We must criticize and deconstruct the discourse in order to understand the ways it may be hurting, rather than helping us. Food is, and always should be, sustenance, not a social symbol. 

The author's parallel between sex and food is quite pointed. Both food and sex provide varying degrees of sensuality, depending on the person/food consumed, and both can become "dangerous" when consumed or engaged in irresponsibly. But above all, food has replaced sex in its ability to outcast and marginalize unconventional use of it. Anyone who has read The Scarlet Letter understands the risk associated with marginalizing those who do not comply with a community's social norms, even if those norms are framed as the best interest of all. Boulder (and I above all) must heed this warning. We must tread carefully as we build a food philosophy that risks resulting in less, rather than more, freedom.

Bon apetit!

Diligence

Beyonce's Single Ladies might be the best video produced in a several years and the number of spoofs that have been done on it has actually gotten on my nerves. But when someone can conduct a spoof that is hysterical but also gives the original due credit, I must acknowledge it. Nice tip Alex!

Best Single Ladies Spoof So Far

Case in Point; Re: Colorado Music Scene???

Readers,

U2 has announced what may be the band's highest grossing tour ever, the 360 Tour. They will play stadiums across the world and nation, including 10 US cities....but NOT, of course, Denver, Colorado. Forget that Denver boasts not only the Pepsi Center, the Colorado Convention Center, the band's self-proclaimed favorite venue Red Rocks, and the seasonal Pavillions (all of which would be excellent candidates for large-scale, sell-out stadium shows), but it also has a reputation for successful stadium events, the 2009 DNC serving as proof of this, or that Colorado allegedly has one of the most fertile, noteworthy music scenes in the region. Despite these things, U2 will not make a stop in Denver on their all-important 360 tour. 

I bring this to attention NOT out of disappointment that I will not be seeing the U2 360 Tour; I find both stadium concert's and Bono's god complex repulsive, but to provide further evidence of my theory that Colorado is not an attractive up-and-coming music scene, as popular discourse seems to suggest. I was, as predicted, thoroughly challenged several postings back for suggesting the opposite may be true, but I am daily reminded why Colorado has and always will be a typical 4.5-5 milllion population state. Indeed, with the ski and other outdoor recreation industries we attract the attention of rich visitors and important people from far and wide, but this cannot make up for the reality of our undiverse population. Culture simply is not a natural biproduct of our industries as it tends to be in states with larger cities with more diverse influences. 

I must also make another stab at Bono for being a big liar in stating that Red Rocks is his favorite venue to play....apparently not favorite enough to include in the revenue driven 360 Tour. Not a problem, but lets be sure that we call U2 by its name: a sell out pop band that uses humanitarian efforts as a key component of its marketing strategy. 

All in all, when it comes to the Colorado music scene, I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

Way to go Boulder Start up!

Ya'll, check out the hottest new business in Boulder..... my buddy Dan is a genius and this thing is gonna fly. If you dig the hardcore, outdoor, hear-me-roar, I-want-more type of sports, and everything else in CO, you will love this. Just launched their new website too, which kicks ass.

www.swaesports.com

They launch officially tomorrow. Watch for the SWAE Sports logos around you favorite Boulder businesses. From all of me here at Anunbridledtongue, welcome SWAE Sports!!!!

2 minutes per square foot and those damn American Spirits

Yesterday I cleaned my studio for 3 hours. Count em. 1-2-3 hours for 350 square feet. That comes out to 1.94 minutes per 1 square foot. I am neither anal nor particularly clean. I am, however, extraordinarily negligent about thorough cleaning so every three months this is what I render myself doing. 2 minutes for every square foot. In addition, I was extremely hungover from agreeing, against all my better judgment, to drink entirely too much Sanza Gold the night before. And I was full of griddle potatoes and burnt coffee from the Buff. But it felt so good when I was finished I thought I should have a cigarette, but then I remember the partial lung I hacked up running Skunk Canyon the other day and opted to not. Yeah, so I have been smoking cigarettes more than normal lately. I have justified this behavior by committing to smoke American Spirits exclusively. You know, its more natural. This is generally my approach with food as well. As long as I am not eating potato chips, m&ms, and macaroni upon every eating occasion I can justify eating constantly. This, however, is not the case with cigarettes. It is still a tobacco product, and, despite the lack of tar, hairspray and several other popular cleaning agents, they are still highly addictive. Although I had a friend, who formally smoked several cigarettes daily and now smokes only one or less a day, tell me that his doctor suggested he was actually not addicted, but that he was more habitual. Rather, he smokes at certain time throughout the day simply out of habit, not addiction. Reflecting upon this, I evaluated the times when I most often smoke:

-out drinking

-after a meal where I ate too much

-walking to and fro

Upon each occasion the cigarette fulfills a specific purpose: to be social, to digest, to pass the time. That is good, because it indicates that I am not addicted, however two events this week prompted me to become concerned about my relatively moderate consumption of cigarettes. First, I received a stern address from my mother, who made me feel guilty about the clear lifestyle dichotomy I display by purchasing exclusively organic food but then smoking cigarettes. Good point. I guess I always justified that one with the natural American Spirits (btw I also smoke AS exclusively because they happen to be the only cigarettes that taste even remotely decent). Second, I went on a run that nearly killed me. Granted, the uphill to Skunk Canyon is gnarly, but damn, as I hacked and coughed all the way up and stopped twice for a break I suddenly felt like a contestant on The Biggest Loser. Truly, that was the breaking point. No more cigarettes. I hate running enough already without subjecting myself to suffocation and weakness. 

So I stopped. While I was dying on my run I had visions of angrily flushing my pack down the toilet as soon as I got home, but that didn't happen. In fact, they are still sitting atop my bookshelf as I write, but temp me no further. I think I struggle to throw them away due to the waste factor. Even if I don't smoke them I am sure someone will appreciate smoking them. So I will keep them.

Wait, who I am kidding? I want to smoke them. But I am going to limit them to the first of three of the above listed smoking occasions....only while drinking/partying. 

One rule is clear: never smoke inside. Especially in my beautifully 2 minute per square foot clean studio. Ahhh.

Wind in Boulder

Another windy day in Boulder on, of course, the first day of christening my beautiful new hybrid bicycle. I can think of only a handful of things worse than Wind in Boulder:

-Locking yourself out of your studio, not once, but twice

-Listening to 3+ dudes competitively discuss their expert knowledge of (fill in the blank)

-Murder (sometimes)

-Small children, no, undisciplined or unsupervised small children, crying in public spaces

-Communicating with Dell Tech Support, Dell Financial Services, Dell Leasing Services, Dell Warranty Sales, and Dell Customer Care interchangeably for 7+ hours

-Indian food

and

-Wedding photos on the Facebook

Speaking of my lovely bicycle, I want to name it. I feel it should be feminine, not only because I appreciate the irony of naming a men's bike something female, but also because the best description of it I can offer is bitchin. It is a hybrid of two road bikes, with a grey frame, hot pink and turquoise straight handlebars, and unbelievable speed. 

Any ideas??

Colorado Music Scene??

On a recent, very fast drive up I-70 (the WRX was very very impressive Tyler) I was, in typical fashion, ranting about the frustratingly dull concert scene in Colorado. I was immediately and forcefully reprimanded by my fellow passengers, one of whom is really "into" music and loves live music and even occasionally (okay often) engages with music via the many drugs portal (which may or may not improve his credibility, when you consider it). I was told that I am crazy, that Colorado has a GREAT music scene, that a lot is happening in the Colorado music scene right now, with a lot of excellent bands popping up all over the place. In fact, later in the day we were sitting on a lift with a single rider from Connecticut (who was beyond impressed that we were all from Colorado and furthermore that we were from, omg, BOULDER, and whose multi-colored checkered designer board jacket and dream of one day moving to Colorado to ride and chill for a year clearly served to strengthen his credibility regarding the following) cited an article he read in High Times about the "sick" up-and-coming music scene in Colorado. 

Huh.

Am I missing something? I mean, I know I'm not the most educated rock/folk/indie/pop music head but I know a few things and I feel my understanding of music, though lacking in depth, certainly boasts breadth, yet I have not managed to draw the same conclusion that everyone else seems to so easily and uniformally agree upon. Sure, we can make claims to the popular annual shows from Yonder Mountain String Band and String Cheese Incident, and of course if you are in the mood for some Big Head Todd you are sure to find a show somewhere in Colorado within the month. A number of MC's have taken a liking to Colorado and particularly Boulder's The Fox, including Atmosphere and Common. On the Pop side we certainly get the bigger names. EveryAmerican Idol star has made an appearance, the old-school-but-still-rockin-like-new-school-blow-out-shows also swing through mile high, including (in the last year for example) Aerosmith and Tom Petty. Let us not forget that Red Rocks is not only gorgeous and nationally renowned, but also the most choice venue of Rock God Bono. And of course every mountain town will have a number of mountain-like bands emerge who will impress and instill a sense of pride among locals and make a stint of mini tours in the region.

But how is this up-and coming-music scene different from any state with its own unique venues, flavorful locals, and occasional medium to larger name shows. If a low-profile band with a strong fan-base is coming to Colorado, its because they are going to Phoenix, Las Vegas, and Boise as well, and Denver is, for once, a convenient pit stop. No one is leaving a tour along the coasts to make stop in the "up-and-coming" Colorado music scene. Colorado gets:

Big name, Pepsi-center worthy tours

Tours pushing a new album so hard they stop in Wichita on one side and Salt Lake City on the other

Yonder Mountain String Band

Trendy participants  of the newest Mile High Music Festival (and honestly, what the hell is the Mile High Music Festival..... they are a lot like the potlucks of music....you stuff your face with many dishes of music that are made with the intention of feeding the masses at the expense of delicate quality....not to mention they charge an arm and a leg for a ticket and an inernal organ for a beer)

Hip hop bands marketed to white kids (e.g. Blackalicious, The Roots, Rahzel, Jurasic 5)

Yonder Mountain String Band

Big Head Todd and the Monsters

Big Head Todd and the Monsters

The Fray

Yonder Mountain String Band

Maybe I'm just bitter because everyone I love won't come to see me. Where are you.....

Ra Ra Riot?

Bon Iver?

Santagold?

Fleet Foxes?

MIA?

Vampire Weekend?

Band of Horses?

Ach. I am unsatisfied. Feel free to challenge me. I am obviously unenlightened and really missing something here. 

Facebook + Parents = Disaster

I recently noticed in my long list of obscene Facebook requests (from the 80 + requests for friendship, all of whom in my recent onset of Facebook Fatigue Syndrome (FFS) I cannot seem to reject but also refuse to fully accept, to the Monster Birth Invitation, whatever the hell that is) that among the pile of friend requests a number of familiar surnames who I felt I should recognize but couldn't seem to identify a source. Suddenly, in a rush of irritation, confusion and slight shock I realized that these were parents. Parents of friends--parents of my old friends, parents of my strictly Facebook friends, and parents of neither. But parents no doubt. I say here parents, not adults, because there is a difference. I am discussing a generation of people whose children are old enough to have been a significantly contributing part of the Facebook Generation I.  

Scenario. You are still in high school living at home. You are hanging out in the basement of a friends house with your gang and discussing the recent shift boy band fads or the scandalous hook up between a freshman and senior that happened at XYX's party last weekend, and mom comes down to say hello.  She sits, the conversation suddenly shifts. You talk about what your plans for college are, how your father is doing, and your family's plans for Christmas. The pleasentries take place and mom leaves. Conversation returns to normal. 

Now, what if mom decided not to leave? Could you resume the previous discussion or would you be forced to continue editing? Mom's presence in your strictly adolescent social space would forever change the nature of the behavior and conversation taking place. It would feel like an change the group culture and be an infringement on the group privacy. Granted, the basement is certainly not a private space, in which mom is technically not allowed to be, but it her presence disturbs an important social phenomenon that part of the process of development. 

Parental registration on the Facebook is no different. I suddenly feel that, with the addition of many friends' parents, this has become a cross-generational environment and my social behavior in the setting must adjust accordingly. I will for, example, edit my wall posting to Alex, which might read "dude, tequila + 7 up = spilled peanuts, a guy with a pencil mustache and bandanna, and stolen library books" to say something more like "dude, last night was so fun and I am full from all those peanuts!" The wall takes on an entirely different character.

Now, certainly many of us could stand to use more discretion about our Facebook activities, particularly as a reminder that this still is a PUBLIC space and things conducted on the Facebook always have the potential of making their way back to precisely the wrong person. But, I will argue that permanent membership on the part of parents is not what the Facebook was intended for, and for a very good reason. I urge the following parties to consider the this as well: grandparents, old high school teachers, youth pastors, and employers.  

Why I am single....

I describe myself publicly as independent. It is a more attractive way to identify that above all I am extraordinarily selfish. This quality carries neither a negative nor a positive connotation for me; knowing it merely enables me to order my life in a way that I do not make life difficult for those I become close to. In other words, I have determined it is best that I navigate my way through adolescence single. Decisions, emotions, action, thoughts, preferences are all met via a process that I alone determine. This way, screw-ups and my annoying tendencies may be attributed entirely to me and more important, all mistakes can effect only me. Now as a scholar and fan of leadership, my life's work will unavoidably bear consequences that affect a large number of people (most of which I pray will be positive), which I understand and accept. My efforts to remain "independent" (and for the occasion of this blog single) exist exclusively on the level of personal. Allow me to arrange snapshot of me, so that you may better understand how I have come to this realization.

-I like to wake up early and make a lot of noise while I, in an order that is never linear and never the same, eat a large bowl of cereal, blast classical music, shower, beautify and all the while make morning routine messes.

-I do not think systematically or ahead and therefore never keep enough groceries around and often leave clean clothes in the dryer for up to a week while still pulling needed shirts and socks from it.

-I enjoy an occasional cigarette on the porch while reading a book, one of usually four that I am reading at any given time and unless I have a deadline will probably not finish since I have no qualms with reading the first 150 pages of a book and re-shelving it (to be sure, I have an impressive collection of half-read books, which allows me to participate in conversations about the book when they emerge among friends, but satisfies my issues with literary commitment). I cannot finish books the way I cannot finish an email in one sitting, a full cup of tea, or personal projects.

-I nag others about exercising when really it is just me trying to motivate myself to stay in shape.

-I love wine to the point where I appear to my family (mother specifically) to be an alcoholic.

-I am awful with finances and for this reason should never, ever combine them with another person. Thankfully, my ends manage to always meet, which I attribute to not to two parts luck and one part fullfilment of Biblical promises.

-I consider myself a decent cook (TERRIBLE baker, of course….the measurements and all the instructions….impossible!) but am only motivated to cook for company. I myself could happily live off almonds and granola for weeks.

-While in Germany I learned what it means to be alone. True aloneness means there are periods of time, perhaps days, where no one in the entire world knows where you are and may or may not be able to contact you. I adapted to and grew on this state of being perhaps a little too quickly and comfortably. Today, returned and once again embedded in my home community, I compensate for this loss of independence by offering worthy inquirers only edited, limited information regarding my whereabouts and activities. I enjoy the thrill of experiencing the world in a way that only I will understand and having my own "secret" memories of people and places. Moreover, I have learned that I am probably the only person actually interested in the daily details of my life. Knowing that I am the person most excited about my own life offers me an incredible sense of comfort and satisfaction.

-I do not fear loneliness, as so many forces encourage us to. Loneliness is thrilling, its free, and it's borderless. No one can stop the lonely single woman, because the lonely woman has no one to stop her; it’s the perfect logic. And by the way, by "stopping her" I do not mean in an explicit way... "You cannot go". It occurs, rather, subconsciously and minutely. Her choice in clothes, food, music and destinations is inadvertently influenced by him, which of course I do not judge as wrong or bad, but simply, not uniquely personal. There exists of course one danger here, and that is lack of accountability, which is an important element to the balanced life. But being single and lonely does not mean there are no friends, and friends, when chosen wisely, can be incredible advocates for our best interests.

-I hate the label Opinionated. I prefer Thinker. Tomatoes-tomatoes….I am verbally expressive about the things I think about. What's worse, I am often unaware of the effects of my verbal discharge and find later that my words stuck with someone over time. This can of course be positive or negative…. but always powerful. I try to bridle it, but only so far that it assists in meeting my ends, which is perhaps less than desirable in a relationship. Partners are not instruments but I cannot resist the urge to tune them to my ear.

-Forgetfulness. Ah yes, this one is no good. Birthdays, ingredients, personal items on buses, bills, calls to return….you name it, I've forgotten it. It doesn't get on my nerves, but other people are less eager to forgive my poor memory. It is the recipe for disaster when paired with the thoughtful and diligent partner.

-And if all the above did not convince you, I will remind you of my sorry attempts at pet ownership. Namely, the poor beta fish James Brown, who I am watching right now as he sleeps at the surface (are they supposed to do that?). He has had a less than bountiful life as my pet of three months. When I left town for a week last month I entirely forgot to find a critter-sitter to feed him, and I can count on one hand the number of times I have changed his bowl. I wake every day and marvel at the small miracle that he still lives.

I prefer living alone, I detest checking in with people, I am spontaneous only when I feel like it, and like a child, grow irritated when highly anticipated events do not go my way. My kind was not designed for partnership. And thank God I live in the world today, because now more than ever there are ways for us to live happily ever after without eternal matrimony. Travel, connectedness, and many other fulfilling experiences are possible without the help of an intimate other. The globalized world is all about catering to the wants and needs of the highly selfish, independent movers and shakers. Whether the creators of modern globalization intended for this effect to so positively impact women who resist romantic co-existence I do not know, but I am glad that there are alternatives for the above-identified personality.

A Weak Return

Like a smoker trying to quite under the influence of having recently returned from a lovely stroll outdoors or seeing a TV ad for pearly white teeth, I too have been recently motivated to start up a sort-of consistent contribution to my sad blog. If that last sentence didn't make very much sense I blame Brooke, who is currently hammering away at her latest victim: the wall, whose sorry cheap plaster somehow isn't holding up the incorrectly sized screws she recently installed to hang her replacement of a closet door (which is actually a curtain BTW). In case you have not had the pleasure of visiting our new abode, it is actually not an apartment, but rather a medium sized closet, for which we however make no complaints about because of its equally close and convenient access to both Church and Liquor Mart. For more information on visits and tours contact me or Brooke. We would be happy to guide you through the 2.76 minutetour. We don't like to take it too fast; you might miss something, like the stacked washer/dryer that is currently shaking down Brooke's medicine cabinet (also another Burgner-conducted installation) or the unreachable cobwebbed high ceilings. But don't get me wrong, it has a cozy affect. Thanks Folwer.

Anyway, as I was saying, I want to write again. I fully admit that I am taking on this task in first week of school, when the hardest task before us is reading through the repetitive disability policies that appear on every syllabus. We'll see how my relationship with my blog shapes up as the semester continues. My past history has shown me to be rather neglectful. I do not wish it to be so, but I do have priorities, as should all of you, my readership of about 12. You have jobs and papers as well, and I would imagine if you are reading my blog it is out of desperate procrastination or boredom. So you should understand when I must take a week to re/prioritize and the blog consequently falls to a lower position on the list.

Well, enough for now. Check back if you want to hear my latest brewing opinions as I indulge in a new year at one of the craziest schools in one of the craziest cities in the country. Could be interesting..... in the meantime try avoiding the east side of the UMC. It doesn't seem to be the luckiest local loitering destination on campus as of late.

Salzburg

Okay, I finally have some internet so here are some pictures from the first couple weeks of our adventure...

The pictures are: Hannah and I before our flight!, A main street in Salzburg Altstadt, A nice Day in Salzburg, Me and Hannah! Some fountain where the Sound of Music was filmed, another picture of Salzburg from teh castle on teh hill. (Salzburg is amazing. It sits in a huge open valley of sorts, surrounded entirely by the Alps. The Hill's truely are alive with the sound of music!), and Hannah, Jinger, and me for lunch. The menu? wursts and spiegl beer. mmmmmm.

My deep connection with Tom Chaplin

Thank you to an annonymous soul (he/she cannot be named for the following obvious reasons) who shuffled Anne and me into the Keane show last Thursday and helped orchestrate perhaps the most intoxicating, surreal concert experience of my life. For those of you just joing the eventful experience of listening to my life, let me provide some background. Keane, a popular band out of London, is not just a band to me; it is a sound that evokes emotion from deep within. Naw! That's ridiculous, they are actually just my favorite band, and they played Boudler last Thursday for the first time. The following are my scrambled thoughts on the show, as well as my future plans with Tom Chaplin (the sexy lead singer for whom I have an unexplainable deep obsession.)

The concert itself was not anything spactacular, but there were some solid performances from Feist and Donovan Frankenreiter (from whom? yeah, that's what I said too but to my surprise I was pleased with each of their sets. Bear in mind this WAS a 21+ show hosted by KBCO. Combine that with the offbeat, slightly obsessive fan-base of Keane and you have a truley ecclectic concert.) Despite all the great aspects I could talk about, the real story is the love connection shared by Tom and me. To begin, the unnamed person strategically placed us in the front layer with the photographers, where we were waited on thorughout and provided beverages between sets. But what's more important is the intimate proximity Tom and I were from each other. He happens to like performing close to the corwd so he spent a great deal of time crouching down to us and reaching out his sweaty, pasty arms, which I simply admired. About halfway throught the set (which thankfully was about 1 hr 45 min and I was even ready for more) Tom looked into the corwd, straight at me, and his eyes told me what I have believed to be the truth since the beginning: that we share a connection that will one day unite us. Of course this did nothing but cofirm my suspicions from all along, but the reaffirmation was comforting. The band spent time between songs chatting with the crowd, talking about life on the road (though much of this was in order to recover from their total exhaustion from the altitude, but I appreciated it nonetheless).

Now here's the hooker. After the show this same person allowed us to stay behind. Though we didn't have backstage passes, we were able to hang out until the band came back upstairs. At that point Tim (the pianist) came up and met us and signed some posters, followed by Richard (the drummer) who also signed some posters. And lastly, the love of my life came up and--to my utter dissapointment--turned and left before we could catch him! Oh it was terrible! Though we left with the perfect ring in our ears, signed posters, and a show drumstick, I couldn't subside the emptiness inside from missing out on Tom. The truth is he just didn't see me. Had he looked my way when he came up in those last minutes I would have seduced him toward me, there would have been no escaping. After all, we have a connection.

I give the show an overall 9 of 10. I refrain from 10/10 to indicate my sadness about not meeting Tom. But I've already researched the next time we'll meet: November 16 in Offenbach, and this time, he won't escape me so fast....

Today I am here to share a story with you that (hopefully) will cause you to strongly consider all your options next time you want to check out a book from the brilliant institution we call the public library. First some background: I come from a family whose mother--among other things-- "believes strongly" in the public library. We spent considerable amounts of time each week in the Longmont library, exploring our respective age-appropriate sections, beginning with the children's bins, then moving to the revered teen section with favorites from RL Stine and friends, and eventually moving up to the extremely intimidating "real" section of adults--novels, research, non-fiction, etc. She was determined to ensure our literary career rested in the hands of the free services provided by the government-instituted public library. Therefore, being the superstar daughter I am, one of my first orders of business upon moving to Boulder almost two years ago was to begin my very own library card with the Boulder Public Library. My first encounter with this establishment should have been my first warning, but was one which I ignorantly missed. The first book I checked out was--well, at this point I can't even remember--because my recollection of the setting, plot, author, and such is overriden by my memory of the foul odor which permeated a surrounding five-foot radius each time it was opened. In fact, I blame this entire story on this one detail. Here's why: This book, which I checked out for a class that I shared with Tia, was so terrible I kindly allowed her to borrow it. And that was the last time I ever saw it. I'm not upset, it was a terrible book, but this is the cause of all my problems. After three months of asking Tia where the books is (and this was admittedly not a very committed pursuit of the book) I retired the hunt and decided next time I go in I would pay for the book. Background: I have had overdue fees at the Longmont Public Library since the beginning of my book-world existence; who doesn't?! When you go in, all you have to do to check out a book is make sure those charges are under $10-- no big deal. This is the Library for goodness sake! It's a free government service.

So, here's the real story. Apparently in Boulder things are done a little differently (is anyone surprised?). On Tuesday I finally sat down to work out my finances for next year and I (gasp) applied with Ol' Sallie Mae for my first ever student loan. First step in applying: credit check. No big deal, I've never had a credit card, I have no credit history. Next step: wait, no next step, my credit check doesn't pass. And here is the reason: "The address you provided in this application does not match up with the address on record with the credit bureau." The huh? Credit bureau? Apart from being slightly irritated that Equifax, Experian, and TransUnion are entitled to their own bureau, I was utterly confused. Without a credit history this industry trio should not have my information in the first place. Wrong. And secondly, if they do have my information there should be nothing bad on my report, as I've never had a payment to miss or even be late on. Wrong again. Upon further investigation, which involved three hours of phone trees, a bike ride across town, and an obnoxious number of phone calls to mom, this is what I found. Almost two years ago when I signed up with the he Boulder Library I gave them my current address, which at the time was my dorm address. Therefore, when I moved out of the dorms I no longer received that mail, some of which included notices that the Boulder Public Library had boldly turned my late fee over to (ohh this is so good, just wait...) a collection agency who, after some time of not tracking me down, turned my information over to the credit bureau, who has now listed on my credit report "One Potentially Negative Item". One potentially negative item?? This isn't potentially negative, it's hugely negative. And it's already destroyed my credit that I don't even have and inadvertently prevented me from enjoying my first loan application experience. This all comes down to one point: The Boulder Public Library is the WORST literary establishment I HAVE EVER had the displeasure of visiting. A collection agency? Seriously, we are talking about a smelly book from 1967 whose binding was already in shreds. And now I have to deal with potentially bad credit for seven years. Not to mention, the set-up of the library is poorly planned, nonsensical, and I can almost guarantee that the planner was not in the right state of mind when piecing this terrible place together. I have more: I was informed by Anne--who is also well-read and an advocate of the library and who HATES Boulder's Library--that in order to place a book on hold one must reserve it online and instead of picking it up at the library like a normal, functional library, it is mailed to you and then the library charges you for the mailing! I won't even comment on how absurd that is.

Here's the rebuttal which I know Tyler would certainly inform me of were he here to read this. I did have a bit of a warning. Yes, I received an extremely ambiguous letter last summer, which was forwarded to me from the residence halls. But one receives junk mail every day. Unique Collections Agency certainly didn't mark their envelope with anything particularly indicative of legitimacy that would prompt me to send them a check. However, that combined with the numerous phone calls from the library, which I cleverly dodge upon recognizing the dreaded number on my phone, left me with a sneaky suspicion that perhaps they were serious about getting that book back. (I still can't figure out why--it just smelled sooooo bad). But the credit bureau--honestly.

Well, all in all, the problem wasn't with my credit history (it's only a potentially negative item after all) but with the mismatch of addresses. You see, I gave Ol' Sallie Mae my permanent address, and the bureau has my dorm address, which was passed to them from the collection agency, which was passed to them the library. As it turns out, the entire process simply required a verification of that old address, which means I technically could have gotten away with NOT paying the fee....but I am a better person than the library so on Tuesday I made my very LAST visit to that place, in order to pay the $45 year old charge. I would encourage all of you to remember this story and ideally I would like you to never ever use their services again, but I suppose that is unreasonable of me to expect. Therefore, find your own silent way to protest the absurdity of their operations. I know I will, and maybe Anne too.

I currently sit in the Office of Student Affairs with a runny nose and an empty ziplock baggie because I got bored--not hungry--and ate the PP&J that I packed for lunch. I don'tbelong in this office. I am here because my boss, who apparently "trusts" me, volunteered me as a temporary helper/employee/aid/whatever for student affairs in an effort to help alleviate some strain on the understaffed office. Okay, so I understand how shitty it is to work in an understaffed office (ie, the presidents office) and how unjustly blissful it is to work in an overstaffed office (ie, orientation office), so I suppose I should feel good about being part of the operation to steal from the rich to feed the poor. But the truth is that I'm totally enraged. After a decent Tuesday night gathering at Erin's I woke up at 6:45 so I could get ready in time to ride my bike to ccampus, which is also a result of something annoying. Yesterday I lost my bus pass and ID in the most peculiar way. I walked out of my house and placed the card in my planner, storing it safely so I may retrieve it after a quick good luck call to my criminal friend Gaby (on her way to court) and a re-application of cherry Chapstick. I walked to the bus stop, jotted down a few notes in my planner, and as the bus approached I opened the page where I had supposedly left my pass and IT WAS GONE! No where! I returned to the site later that day and combed the place on hands and knees (no joke) and the ID is no where to be found. Well, I guess its back to the BuffOne office for my fourth new BuffCard--this has to be a record. But the point is that since I lost my pass I had to get up early enough to ride my bike to work (or pseudo work) by 7:30 am. This was rough. I can't complain I guess. I am here to answer calls and have gotten exactly 2 to date, and there is a gigantic jar of hershey's kisses sitting in front of me. But I am essentially cotantined in a cubical area, with no fellow Orientation Leader peers to converse with about really important things--like the NBA finals or why Jim has to speak half english, half um's when he assigns the most mundane of tasks. Actually, I just miss Gaby telling really dumb stories with so much enthuiasm and passion that you are deceived into thinking it was really as traumatic as she makes it sound. Tangent done.

So I looked up the definition in of "Weblog" in Wikipedia--which by the way is becoming an extremely popular source of information for speeches in my speech class and papers that I see. And my academic side can't help but cringe when I see such an unreliable, unpeerreviewed form of research utilized. Other than the fact that it would not pass the be-all, end-all test of PLC-approved sources, I don't understand why everone chooses Wikidepia. What happened to Jeeves and Google? Personally, I think Google is more reliable: one, because they now control the majority of our online tools; additionally, they have greater resources (also known as billions of dollars) poured into creating an accurate, near-perfect virtual environment for us. So instead I googled "Weblog" and google kindly gave me a little graphic with a blue book that, when clicked, gave six website where I could find the definition of Weblog. The last of the six happened to be Wikipedia, and consequently my trust in the Wikipedia cyber-info website has been restored, thanks entirely to Google and NOT to students in my Speech class. The point of this story is that the definition of Weblog includes the following: a web-based publication consisting primarily of periodic articles. After reading it I sobered up to the reality that I can no longer call this a blog, because it is not periodical, but aperidical, which in terms of sound waves (and probably many other things) means not peroidic. I was prompted to check this definition because of a compelling email I received from Teju, who conveyed his dissapointment in me for not updating my blog, or whatever it is now called.

So I write this to clear some things up: I am not a quitter. And likewise, my blog has not quit, it has simply gone into hybernation while I drown in a few things like school, work, internship, school, and internship. Did I mention work? But not to worry, something by the name of Summer has thrown me a life saver and soon I will be alive again, and ready to turn this mess into a periodical blog again.

I don't see why this should excite anyone, since most of what I have to say is not only complete nonsense, but has no bearing on how my readers carry on their lives. In fact, I imagine the world is quite content without me writing all my nonsense. The world says, "Thank you for not writing. I can go existing as I am supposed to, without Annie finding everything wrong with me in her suedo Seinfeld-writer kind of way." But I am sorry, I still intend to make a wild comeback as the summer begins. Just wait: a plethora of ridiculous, irrelevent, topics await your reading..... Check back if your in a Lets See What The Fool Has To Comlpain About Today kind of mood.

I dedicate this to Anne......

The state of Colorado faces a crisis. For those who are not aware, I love Colorado. I have grown up here, invested my education here, and I hope to settle here one day. Therefore, I take a strong interest in the political, economical, and environmental well-being of our state. Several current issues are of special concern to me, and we should all be thinking about the best solutions to restore harmony in this wonderful place. First, the I am concerned with the lack of funding for K-12 and higher education, and I see no end to this problem in the near future. I am concerned with recent debate over academic freedom, sparked by an Overland High teacher and student. I am very concered about certain freedoms being threatened, such as the stat-wide smoking ban that was recently passed by our legislatures (but I will not debate that one today).

Yet, as I consider these problems I cannot help but remember one crisis that is taking precedence over all these things, the one thing that is of greatest threat to the success and advancement of this state, and the one thing that I feel more desperate and hopeless about than anything: and that is Adele Arakawa of 9News, and her 10-year outdated hair-do that more resembles a charcoaled bird's nest than anything. Adele’s hair has been on the loose since halfway through the last decade and no one in this state has done anything to stop it. Are you aware that her hair has been the exact same since 1993. There is no progression; in fact, I believe Adele has actually fights progress. Her hair actually wants to change, but she won't allow it, which is why it looks so depressed. Every day she tortures it by converting it to a wild sculpture held in place by large quantities of cheap hairspray. When I watch the news her hair cries out to me and says "Annie, help me. Help her help me. I need to change!" And I am filled with sympathy for her hair and contempt for Adele because she won't change it. Honestly, Adele’s hair looks like a fried wig. Her bangs start halfway back from her forehead and emanate out like black fireworks. On normal heads, hair grows in the direction of gravity; on Adele’s head, hair grows outward, like a chia pet. But sometimes she does change it, she will pull it back into a ponytail. On these days I am deceived because I think she has actually started a new style. But then she turns her head to the side I fall out of my chair because I see the nest is not gone, it was just hiding, and now it looks like a life-threatening tumor protruding out the back of her head. I will watch an entire news program and realize I have retained nothing of news, and all I can think about is Adele’s disgraceful haircut.

Now I want you to understand something. Every person has the right to style their hair how they want, but some people have fewer rights than others. Those people include the CEO's of large companies, legislatures, especially those with the last name Butcher, Presidents of CU (Hoffman unfortunately was never aware of this relinquished right), and most importantly, newscasters. These people must be aware that they are being scrutinized for their appearance 100% of the time. They have a camera focused on them just four-feet away every day. Should these people not be slightly concerned with their appearance? Take Molly Hughes, for example (my personal favorite). Her hair is always updated and completely adorable. Right now she’s sporting the pure-blonde, sleek bob cut, and her bangs are thinned to a reasonable quantity. I can watch Molly without feeling uptight about her hair. This is the same with every other Colorado newscaster, so why is Adele able to get away with such neglect?

I realized about 3.5 years ago that this is a problem. But I realized the true gravity of the situation with the development of High Definition Television, in which 9News now casts their program. This advancement is great for everybody but newscasters. The screen is now so clear that we can see every minor flaw and wrinkle in their faces, as well as the cakey make-up which insufficiently covers it up. But the real problem is that I can now see every fried stringy piece of Adele’s bangs sculpted into perfection like a black and grey rainbow over her forehead. My confusion deepens. I can’t understand how a reasonable, smart individual like Adele could let her hair reach a state of such depravity, or how no friend will help her out with her problem.

Perhaps I am judging too hard. I realize hair is a personal choice, but Adele’s personal choice has become a Colorado crisis. When people visit this wonderful state and see a hair-do like Adele’s on the local news, I am concerned they might never come back. Is this the impression that we want our outsiders to have? That we are some rural, outdated state of people who cannot manage our hair? This questions the integrity of the entire state.

Last year I attended the 9News Leader of the Year Luncheon, at which Adele was the keynote speaker. I am proud to say that Adele was and still is the best public speaker I have ever heard. I am also proud to say that my table was far enough back that I couldn't see her hair, which was surprising considering that it sits 5 ½ inches above her head. I wanted to find her afterward and pull her aside so we could have a few words, but she was no where to be found. It made me wonder if she always leaves functions so that her frustrated fans won’t confront her about it. I hope this is not the case.

Either way, I have set out to save Adele’s hair. Even after 10+ years of abuse I still have faith that it can be restored. It will need some deep conditioning treatment, some serious pep-talking for Adele, and a new hair stylist, but I believe in miracles. Let us work together to restore the welfare and prosperity of Adele—and Colorado—by joining together in our disapproval of this madness.

Stereotypes

Today it was made clear to me why stereotypes exist. Most specifically, why stereotypes about CU-Boulder exist--and that is because they are true. Let me begin my day for you. This morning I went to a group advisor meeting to finally declare PRE-COMM. I sit down with four other students (most likely freshmen) in awkward silence until one fellow says something brilliant like, "So, uh, do we just sit here?" I couldn't help but reply to such a remark with anything but bitter sarcasm and contempt. "Um--YEAH." And I continued reading. Then the advisor comes in and begins explaining the COMM major to us, how to declare, and so on. The gentleman on my right says that he doesn't really know anything about COMM but he doesn't want to be the Open Option major anymore (yes, he called it a major) because he can't get into the Journalism classes and its bull shit. The advisor is baffled. Before she can collect her thoughts to come up with a response that will make sense to this confused student another guy asks her for a pen. She says, "You don't have a pen? This is a meeting, why don't you have a pen?" And he explains, "I don't have my backpack," as if that is supposed to fill in the missing blanks. So then I look around and realize that NO ONE has a backpack with them. In fact, no one even bothered to change out of sweats. Okay, so I realize it was 8:30 in the AM, but seriously. Who doesn't bring anything with them to a major declaration meeting? How did these people manage to turn in an application to even be admitted into this supposedly world-class institution? I can't believe I am declaring the same major as them--it doesn't say much about me. Actually, I do blame myself, and the rest of the fine Orientation Leadership Team that managed to let fools like this slip through the cracks last summer. (PS--As if I didn't feel stupid enough at this meeting, I found out tonight that my roommate Julie is going to graduate next December. This means that she will graduate from all of college in 2.5 years and start her masters before I even begin my major).

Okay so I got over the meeting. I try to pretend that people like that are the minority here at CU, not the majority. But the rest of the day suggests that this is not the case. In my speech class today we gave our informative speeches. These are to be well-researched, cited speeches, professionally delivered. My topic was about Guide Dogs for the Blind, with a full history and overview of the service it has done in America. I am expecting similarly interesting and intelligent topics, but once again the students of CU followed through with their duty of maintaining our reputation: speech 1- adderall, speech 2- how to get rich, speech 3- how to survive an avalanche when back-country snowboarding, speech 4-how to make homemade beer (with a full demonstration), speech 5- what a girl wants from her man, speech 6- the history of condoms, and speech 7- obesity. Well, I think we pretty much covered it all. The previous 7 topics are an all-inclusive collection of everything the 19-year-old CU student values.

I am very happy to say that I do everything I can to remove myself from this majority, including--oh like--hold down a job and make my own money, go to class every day, carry on conversations that don't include anything about inches of powder at Breck' last weekend, keep up on the Darfur crisis instead of the Jessica and Nick crisis, and maintain a basic knowledge of how to graduate and seek a career.

But this is getting too tangential. If you've made it this far let me apologize for my previous comments. I am off to continue defying the stereotypes that have come to embody CU..... I'm going to study

Therapy and more

The last few day have been defined by several notable events. To begin, I woke up on Friday feeling fantastic. It was the first day I have not felt run down and tired before my day even begins. I attribute this renewed energy to my new hypnotherapist. That is correct, I am now seeing a hynotheropist. Well, sort of. Brian is trying to become an accomplished hypnotist and Tyler and I have somehow become his worthy test subjects. Thursday night was our first session and I am proud to say that I am what's called a Deep Trans, while Tyler is only a Medium Trans. We discussed the irony of this, since Tyler is more into the new age material than I am. But really, I don't find it ironic at all since it confirms my suspicion that Tyler is a skeptic. He thinks he believes everything, but I think that he challenges everything, which is why hypnotism doesn't work as well on him.
In one hour of hypnotheropy I received the equivalent of four hours of sleep, and I was able to get my work off my mind for a while, which was the real reward I think. If you have a chance to experience this activity I highly recommend it. I will keep you posted on my therapy.
Second, on my way to the Library I committed an embarrassing crime. I was walking in Norlin Quad behind a girl with fantastic curls and she was talking on the phone. I realized it was my old friend from Sewall, Marisa. So I discreetly approached her and as I came up beside her I cupped my hand around her buttocks and squeezed hard. I then proceeded to turn and have a laugh with her but to my utter horror realized it was not Marisa at all. In fact, it was total, complete stranger. The girl looked at me in shock as I passed out from embarrassment and fell down on the ice, splitting my head open and bleeding all over. Actually, I didn't pass out, but I did want to die. It took a moment for us to realize the grave mistake I had made and to break the awkward tension we both laughed for about 35 seconds, while I apologized profusely and tried to explain. The episode ended with me saying, "I am so sorry and so embarrassed. I hope you don't feel violated--I am going to go now." And I proceeded to RUN to the Library to escape this terrible situation.
Work on Friday was unbelievable. Remind me to never work a) in Higher Education b) With all women c) In an office with suffocating politics or d) In a place that only has a pepsi, not a coke, machine. Work began with the usual: morning news search, a cup of coffee, and complaining to my boss about the Denver Post search engine. It ended with a crying, swearing, yelling, and an office therapy session with me as the doc. I won't get into details, but the take-away message here is this: Don't hire incompetent managers.
Also on Friday I went to German restaurant and received not only the best food but the best service I have had in a very long time. I ordered Jaegerschnitzel with Potato dumpling, mmm mmm. It's called Cafe Berlin and I offer my highest recommendations.
Saturday morning I went to hell, also known as Step Class. Not only was I the only new person there, I was the only idiot that absolutely cannot follow a sequence. We arrived late, which resulting in a front row spot for me. I felt bad the people behind me who might watch me and inevitably be thrown off, because I was doing the wrong step 100% of the time. Also, I was off-center so every time we did anything facing the left side, I was stuck trying to do the steps with my head over my shoulder watching the instructor, which only intensified my awkwardness. If you really want to understand how bad it was, ask Robyn. Actually, she might just laugh, which won't tell you anything except what a fool I am.
So I went home this weekend, partly because I needed to escape my life, and partly because I needed to restore my dignity. Nothing interesting happened today, except that I-gasp-visited the new Wal-Mart Super Center in Longmont, which was a huge mistake. To begin, the complex (yes, it is a complex) is about 2.30 minutes from my house and it took me--from the time I left my house to the time I parked--12 minutes. That is because I had to wait at a light just to turn into the Complex, even though it is outside the edge of town. As soon as I entered I walked back out because I had to make sure I was in the right building, for I thought I was in Sam's Club, or Cosco. They are lying when they call this a supermarket, it is a warehouse. Let me tell you about Super Center: there is no tile on the floor, it is cement, you cannot see the back of the store if you are standing in the front, there are more checkers than I can count, and the express line requires 25 items or less. I felt sick and overwhelmed. I had offered to pick up some drinks for my mother but I was too sore from Step Class to walk to the other end of the complex where the food resides. So I jumped in one of the six express lines and checked out--for good. I can't possibly go back. This is where I will stop talking about Wal-Mart, because I could go on about sustainable development and the impact that places like Wal-Mart, Target and Cosco have on it, but I will let you off the hook.
During my next hypnotherapy session I plan to visualize a world with no Wal-Marts, a world where people spend moderately, and value community over economic gain. Oh wait, I guess I could just study abroad...

It's Valentine's Day: BLAH

Homefries

Everyone should take consistent, healthy dosages of home. Home gives you the things you can't get at school, but are just as important nonetheless. Like,


-Homemade pizza, all of which you can eat without conserving slices for later in the night, when you know that same pizza will surely satisfy some phenomenal drunken munchie.
-Watching grizzlies fight on the Discovery Channel, and listening to your mother make extraordinarily intelligent and credible comments about it--like "wow, look at how much bigger that one Grizzly is than the other" or--after the bigger grizzly takes a break for an enormous shit, "well I guess that's why they are animals and we are not"
-Sloppy, juicy kisses from your sister who smells like barbecue
-Conversations over why the cat has more idiosyncratic credit than the rest of the family, and after such conversations no one does a thing to change this distorted power structure
-Bewilderment as to why the rum has been hidden by my father, but suspicions that he may have hid it knowing I would be home this weekend, under the very false presumption that I might steal some. (He is wrong, because I will simply find an alternative beverage)
-My father cracking some excellent jokes, especially the one in response to a serious discussion about Sigma Nu being kicked off campus for hazing: "Well if they are Sigma Nu, then I'm sure they knew." (more discussion about the Nu to follow)

Please, sacrifice some time to go home. You will be amazed by how just one night among people not of the raging fast college animals will neutralize you.


In other news, the State of the Union was on Monday. Due to a late class and other ailments such as stomachache, headache, fever, clogged nose, and lack of ability to breath, combined with the highly-prioritized Bachelor episode, I missed the wise words of our Chief. But, in great thanks to one fellow student who--like the rest of the campus community--is highly informed about Politics, I was able to get the low down:

"Oh man! His whole speech was made up of American Buzz Words for the common citizen, like 'freedom' and 'liberty' and 'terrorists' and 'justice' and on and on. You could have played the best drinking game ever! Seriously, if you just took one drink for every buzz word you could have been WASTED!"

And that was it. Nothing could have better illustrated this person's point. Think about the implications of this. From one college student to another we exchange highlights from the State of the Union--one the most significant annual events in politics--in terms of a drinking game. Ah, the life of a college student. Can the rest of the population actually relate? And we wonder why those in the "real world" don't take our fantastic campaign slogans like "Save the Dandelions in Southeastern Boulder" seriously. Which reminds me, Sigma Nu, another community of bright, upstanding fellows had their chapter revoked for hazing. 27 of 29 were suspended. Though I was no supporter of the University placing restrictions on fraternities last year, one has to wonder if they really can't do it on their own. It's like the rebellious child that lashes out the moment they are released to freedom. Did these gentlemen of the Sigma Nu chapter not get the Hazing Is Not Cool memo when we lost a student from this very same act last year? How short is their memory? Actually, it is very short--not only did they forget the regrettable events of last year, they also forgot that their very own chapter was founded in the post-civil war era by men from Virginia Military Academy who were specifically against hazing. What irony. But thankfully they won't need me to remind them. They will have the remainder of their years at CU as ex-Sigma Nu-ers to think on it.

Enough. Nyquill, compliments of Tyler, is kicking in full force. I must retire. Think about this until next time: Who will Travis pick?