American Idol/Top 11: Why Was That Girl Crying?

Last week, we said goodbye to Buckwheat Brandon after Diana Ross gave a pretty strange performance. His departure was overdue, but it just means that we're all going to be subjected to Sanjaya's girly whines for that much longer.

This week is British Invasion week from the 1960s, it seems. And as usual, many of the contestants continued to exhibit their incredibly bad taste and poor judgement by choosing the most coma-inducing songs ever written. Really, there are so many good songs to choose from. So why was Melinda freaking out so much about what to sing?

Speaking of Melinda, she's getting kind of boring. The new hair-do did give us something to different look at, and I whole-heartedly approved of the new straight-do versus her old flippy haircut. But she sang some song that I had never heard of, perfectly in-tune albeit, but totally forgettable, especially because she also sang a showtune the week before. We all know that Melinda can sing anything under the sun. Why couldn't she have chosen something that was, um, a little more fun?

Her co-leader, Lakisha, really disappointed me too. First off, all I could think is "Whoa, mombo hair; mombo boobs." She also had some major bling going on, like she raided the Harry Winston closet. But her performance of "Diamonds Are Forever" kind of reminded me of a Nell Carter preening session. She really should have listened to Lulu and sung that other song.

By the way, Lulu was giving some really good advice to all of the girls. She was extremely nice to Haley by telling her that there was a place for everyone, which you could either interpret as a genuine compliment or a backhanded way to tell her that it's okay to be a loser. Anyhow, Haley ditched the bra and sang a flat "Tell Me" in a kind of slutty Kathie Lee Gifford way. It actually wasn't that bad, but definitely not the best of the night.

Lulu also had some words for Stephanie, Gina and Jordin. Lulu told Stephanie she sounds like Beyonce, which I'm sure both Stephanie and Beyonce are tired of hearing. Stephanie had an off night, although it was kind of hard to tell anything because I could barely hear her over some over-zealous background singers who sounded like a 50-person chorus (there were three singers). Overall, pretty bad, but not as bad as.....Gina. Gina sounded lost while singing "Paint It Black" by The Rolling Stones. It was really out of Gina's range, and I felt bad because I like Gina a lot. It was a good thing that Jordin came out to redeem the girls, giving a pretty kick-ass rendition of some song that made me want to trek through many hardships and rescue her from her prison of utter despair. Lulu advised Jordin to scream, which seemed to go against all the advice that the judges give, but here it really worked. Jordin sang with more conviction than anyone else that night with defiance and yet poignancy at the same time.

The guys were much better this week than they were the previous week. The guest artist was Peter Noone who started off by completely dissing Chris Richardson and even imitating the way Chris R. sings in a way that didn't seem in the least bit complimentary. Chris came out and sang some slow song. I'm still not sure what the judges were raving about because I didn't think he was that great.

The other guys were ok. Chris Sligh started in the audience and spent a little bit too much time there while doing a pretty good job, I thought, with "She's Not There." The "Bring Back Chubby" signs were very amusing too. Phil Stacey was just weird. He was walking all over, dragging that mic stand all over the stage, singing a bluesy song ("Tobacco Road"). I didn't think he was able to really pull it off. It didn't seem to fit him.

For the first time ever, I really enjoyed Blake. His pitch wasn't perfect, but I thought he Blake-i-fied "Time Of The Season" pretty well without making it sound silly like he did with whatever song he sang during Diana Ross week. He grabbed my vote for this week.

Finally, we come to Sanjaya. This time, Sanjaya was without the at-home perm, and picked something more upbeat than his past choices ("You Got Me Going"). His performance was very disturbing. I really did not enjoy seeing Sanjaya gyrate in front of Paula. But I guess at this point, Sanjaya feels like he has nothing to lose, because he knows he doesn't deserve to be there anymore. I'm not quite sure why he thought the judges were praising him. I think the judges are indulging him because they don't know what else to say at this point. But lucky for him, he inspires reactions of pre-pre menstruel extreme hormonal proportions as demonstrated by that really strange crying girl, or as the folks at TWOP called her, "Little Miss Sobshine." Seriously, what was with her?

My votes:

Best Performance: Blake Lewis. I couldn't tell who won the beat boxing contest between him and Ryan.

Worst Performance: Sanjaya Malakar. He and that crying girl should leave the show and go off and play with their Barbies.

Most Improved: Jordin Sparks. Not that she was all that bad during Diana Ross week. But she picked a much better song, and didn't sing it sitting down this time.

Ode To The Nutter Butter (Confessional #5: I Love Peanut Butter)

I was at Bouchon the other day to get some coffee, and I decided to help myself to a snack. Why are all good things made of carbs? Well I guess bacon doesn't have carbs, but everything else good in the world seems to.

Anyway, as I was looking at the display case, my eyes fixated on the Bouchon Nutter Butter. If I have a weakness in desserts, it's peanut butter. I think it's because if my palate tends towards sweet or salty, I definitely have a salty one. And peanut butter always has the right amount of saltiness to counteract any coying sweetness.


OMG, the Bouchon Nutter Butter was the best thing I've ever tasted in a while. Two sweet cakey discs of oatmeal goodness with this gooey, creamy, peanut-y filling.

Oh Nutter Butter
It is you who I pick
With peanuts spread so thick
Slathered in between
Two cookies that I could lick
It is you who I will eat alive or dead
Give me no substitute
No copycat from elves
Keebler or else
Just give me the original
And put me to bed.

If The World Ends Due to Global Warming, This Will Be My Last Post

So we've seen some crazy weather in the past few days. Last week on Wednesday we had warm weather which gave us a false sense of Spring. And then we got Nasty Ice Storm Part II that tested Jet Blue once again in their prowess at riot control. Given all this crazy weather, of course it's all anyone can talk about. Well, currently, I can only focus on two things--the weather, and this former friend of mine who I've finally just written off as a passive-aggressive lost cause. Good riddance.

But mostly I am thinking about the weather. Now I have to admit that I am not one to check weather forecasts or even have a thermometer outside my window. In college, I would tell what the weather was by just looking out the window and seeing what everyone else was wearing. But I can't really do that from my apartment here in New York because not as many walk up Amsterdam Avenue, and I'm a little too high up to see to clearly. So instead, I call down to my doorman and ask him if it's cold outside, which for some reason, amused my friend to no end.

Not being able to go outside because doing that would give you hypothermia is really "unfortunate" in the same way that that your significant other runs out on you is "unfortunate." I think not going outside is the cause of my China time sleep schedule and my irregular bedtimes. It's like I've lost all sense of time by staying indoors all day, and my poor body time clock has no idea when to be up and when to be asleep.

In any event, it's still pretty cold today after last week's ice storm. And all the weather talk obsession has continued with me and everyone I talk to. At every turn today, I've been talking to people about the weather. We're probably all hoping that we have some sort of insight into Mother Nature that weather forecasters don't. You know, like the inevitable old guy you might meet who will tell you, "I grew up on a farm my whole life, and those weather guys don't know shit. I woke up this morning and the birds were still flying South and the dogs were still howling at the moon. We're gonna have a huge snowstorm." Or, the guy at Duane Reade who told me "Those weather forecasters are always wrong. I wish I could have a job where I'm wrong all the time" like he actually resents the weather guy. Or my coworker who just moved to New York and who is asking me "When does it get warm here in NY?" Or my client who is tell me how he spent all weekend shoveling the snow from the driveway. All day it's been the same thing over and over.

Which makes me wonder (Carrie Bradshaw voice): why do we always talk about the weather? Why, when a conversation is struck up between strangers, does the topic invariably come around to the weather? Everyone always says talking about the weather is so cliched, like "At least we didn't resort to talking about the weather." The weather is constantly changing, obviously and gives us a something to talk about when all else fails. So...(focus on your computer screen) when will the weather...stop being so much like the weather?

Most comments about the weather are innocuous, like "Can you believe this rain?" or "It's so gorgeous out today." Or like when you ask someone "How was your vacation?" and they reply back, almost as if scripted "It was great. The weather was perfect." There's just no denying that when there is nothing else to say, the forecast is the topic of choice. No matter how you word it from "Hot enough for you?" to "I love hot weather, but even this is a little too much" we all like to participate in the societal weather dialogue.

And this shouldn't surprise anyone. Sure, it would be nice to have a more meaningful conversation with your fellow man, which may surprise some people to hear me say that since I have such hermit and anti-social tendencies. But I understand that the weather is the one thing that everyone has in common. Through different jobs, different boyfriends and girlfriends, different apartments, through different emotions, different brands of bottled water; different credit cards, different vacations, different ways to answer the question "What's up?" - through all that we are all subject to the weather. So if anyone occasionally grasp for that, for a moment to bond in our sameness, it's A-OK, and sometimes welcome, when you really do have nothing to talk about.

So I don't know where I'm really going with this post, and it took me a lot longer than I expected to write all this. Maybe I'm just in a contemplative mood. Or maybe I'm yearning for others to share ideas about our sameness. Or maybe I'm just disappointed about my former friend. Or perhaps, despite my tacit approval expressed in what I wrote above, I'm slightly disappointed that I'm not a more interesting person to go against the grain with others. Well, tomorrow is another day, and actually now that I think about it, exploring our sameness sometimes takes a lot longer than you might expect.

Especially if you're hanging out with these guys.

American Idol/Top 12: What A Bore

Last week, we said goodbye to Jared Cotter, Sundance, Antonella Barba and Sabrina Sloan. I don't have much more to say about Antonella, other than what I've already said. Poodle-hair Sabrina has never made an impression on me. Jared, who kinda looks like Alfonso Ribeiro and a used car salesman, looked PISSED OFF. I actually thought he was going to refuse to sing a final performance. And I was so glad to see sweaty and groany Sundance go. Last week, he sang "Jeremy" in this whiny voice, and even the return of his white boy blues the previous week when he sang "Mustang Sally" really wasn't THAT great. I don't know what type of revisionist history the judges were concocting when they said Sundance was one of "our finest singers." Simon said that maybe America "turned the volume down." Uh, yeah we did.

Carrie Underwood also came back to sing last week, looking like she was dragged on to the stage kicking and screaming, and utterly bored because she's too famous for the show now.

This week we finally moved to the big stage. I was pretty stoked this week because I thought we could possibly see some really great performances, and while I'm not head over heels in love with Diana Ross, I was pretty excited to see a true diva and legend. And I was really hoping that someone would sing "Upside Down" or "I'm Coming Out", which are my two personal favorite Miss Diana songs.

Well, no one sang either of these, and I really don't know why because some of them really could have used a jolt of upbeatness. For example, the judges absolutely raved about Jordin, but I'm sorry. While she did okay, I just couldn't vote last night for a girl who would sing a song from a retarded movie about baby dinosaurs. Melinda was okay too. She did seem kind of tentative at first and she sang a really boring song from a movie that I have never seen nor ever plan on seeing. At least she's improving in the wardrobe department and elongating that linebacker body of hers with some heels and a smart cocktail dress.

Each week, I always want to really like Stephanie. She can sing great, but she just lacks a certain something or just sounds, like the judges keep saying, too much like Beyonce. Gina sang one of the stupidest songs ever recorded ("Love Child"), but at least produced the funniest Diana moment when Miss Ross told Gina like 7 times to "pronunciate." Um, is that a word? Isn't it "enunciate"? Haley gets my vote for the most improved. Maybe I wasn't paying attention that well, but I honestly didn't notice that Haley forgot the words to her song. She did have a severe case of the nerves, but I was with Simon on this one and thought that Haley had a few bright moments in an otherwise below average, but not totally flailing, performance.

Which leaves us now to Lakisha. I have not been a Lakisha fan throughout all these episodes. I don't think America needs another gospel singer. But last night, I was thoroughly impressed with the control on her voice while she sang some song from Diana's movie glory days in Lady Sings The Blues. And while I'm not totally on her team, I ended up voting for "Kiki." I think mostly because she didn't do that annoying solemn nod of her head after each judge's comments that she usually does.

The guys just ranged from total snooze-ville to really strange. Chris S., sans glasses, and Blake did weird mixes of their songs, bringing a kind of weird Knight Rider quality to their songs. Sanjaya was terrible as usual, but not the worst. I'm just glad that Sanjaya has finally stopped talking about his sister, who he seems to have a borderline obsession with. Miss Ross told Sanjaya that he needed to "explode," and I'd like to think she was being literal. Chris R. was the only person to venture out onto the walkway, but his teeny voice really sounded bad. And I'm starting to notice how weird his herky-jerky, "to the left, to the left; to the right, to the right" dancing is. Phil was okay, but as usual, all I can pay attention to is his big ears rather than anything he sings. But I seriously couldn't believe how bad Brandon was. He was a disaster. Barely five seconds into the song, he was totally off-pace with the music. Then a few seconds later, you hear nothing come out of his mouth. OMG. He didn't just forget a word; he forget entire LINES. He did some weird injured bowler dancing to distract us, but boy what a mess.

My votes:

Best Performance: Lakisha. Technically, this is a Billie Holiday song, not Diana Ross. But, whatever. Also, didn't Diana tell you to use a mic stand? Um, when Diana Ross tells you to do something, you do it. She'll cut you down.

Worst Performance: Brandon Rogers. Back to the background for you, if you can still get a job after the huge Idol disappointment you turned out to be.

Most Improved: Haley Scarnato. I have to say that I was kind of distracted by the bottom of her dress, or were those shorts? I honestly couldn't tell because it seemed like some weird kind of lederhosen action going on down there.

All Of A Sudden I've Become Lazy

For some reason in the past couple of weeks, I've become very lazy. I've been working from home a lot, which really means that I am free to do nothing of great significance. I haven't been making my usual daily trips to the gym, and I can see it in my waistline. I even haven't been that inspired to cook anything new lately. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe it's the weather. I did go on a couple of job interviews last week, one of which I really liked. So maybe that will bring some spice to my life.

Now of course, the most constructive thing for me to do would be to post all day to describe all the tantalizing things I do, but I've been very uninspired on that front too. Thank god for American Idol for giving me fodder.

We Learn Something New On Idol

The boys go first again this week, sans Nick & AJ. I was really sad to see my favorite hand waving Idol go, but Nick I barely noticed. I felt like he always sang songs that his mom must have sung him to sleep. For the girls we were without Leslie and Alaina. I don't really remember aimless Alaina's singing. I only remember now, her inability to sing a single word on her last night because she invited all of the girls in a big group hug. I think she'll regret screwing up her last moment on TV months from now. Leslie, though, I'll miss. She was kind of one of those cuckoo girls who looked like she was *this* close to becoming Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. She just kind of had this "I'm gonna kill you" look, and then at the end of her last performance, she started blubbering like she was the possessed kid in The Omen. But I liked what I saw of her, and I think she was sent home a little too early.

For this week, the theme is "Tell Me Something About Yourself." This is also the final week that the guys and girls will be separated, and thank god. The boys, this week, went back to showing what a lopsided contest this has been between them and the girls. None of the guys made any impression on me this week. For a change, Sanjaya wasn't the worst this week, but i think that's because he sang a song, which I happen to love ("Waiting On The World to Change" by John Mayer). My vote for the worst this week goes to weird-looking Phil. Simon was too polite when he made fun of Phil's bug eyes. Seriously, Phil really needs to play down the creepy factor. And this week, it didn't help that he sang terribly, singing some weird slow song by LeAnn Rimes.

My favorite male performance was Chris Sligh, kind of by default, because he seemed to be the least shrill and most in-tune. I think Blake could have been good, singing some old school ska-sounding song from 311, but he was just flat. Plus, I looked up the song that Chris S. sang, and it's a Christian Rock song, and we all know how I feel about that genre.

For the girls, surprisingly, I didn't think Antonella was this week's worst. But similar to Sanjaya, she sang a song which is another favorite of mine. Throughout this entire season, I've actually been disappointed by Antonella. I thought Antonella had one of the best auditions, and thought she had a nice Pop-music type voice. Her voice is completely different than Melinda or Stephanie or any of the booming belters, but I thought Antonella would still do well in her own style. But, sheesh, this girl can't even sing in-tune. This week, though, she was better and did a passable job at "Put Your Records On."

My vote for the worst goes to Haley Scarnato. I feel like she thinks she has a bigger voice than she really has. She started this season by tackling Celine and Whitney. And now she's singing some weird Faith Hill song that doesn't really have a hook, and I kind of think she should go back to being a gymnast.

For the best girl this week, Melinda this week, as usual was the consummate pro. But now that I see more of her, all I can think is Anita Baker. And she has got to do something about her neck (where the hell is her stylist?). This week, I voted for the girl who had made it a career of auditioning for Idol, but losing before the Gong show, Gina Glockson. She sang Evanescence this week, and sang it well. It was different and Gina worked that song with some serious rocker attitude.

My votes this week:

Best Guy: Chris Sligh. He doesn't seem intimidated by the spotlight.

Worst Guy: Phil Stacey. There's just something about him. He looks like the secret love child of Moby and Fiona Apple.

Best Girl: Gina Glockson. Gina--The prom dress last week didn't work. Stick with the Rock & Roll clothes.

Worst Girl: Haley Scarnato. There's a Miss Austin, TX Pageant out there for you.

My Knees Are Already Shaking

This May, I'm heading to the Grand Canyon. I've never been before (or to that part of the country for that matter), but I'm very excited. I haven't really started researching yet for my trip, but yesterday in the Times, I saw this:
This is the new Grand Canyon Skywalk scheduled to open on March 28. The developers used one million pounds of steel to create a bridge that can hold the weight of 71 fully loaded Boeing 747s (about 71 million lbs.) and withstand 100+ mph winds. But only 125 people will be let on at the time. Oh and worried about tripping? You get some covers for your shoes to help prevent slippage.

I think this is so dope. You get to go out on this floating walkway and look ALLLL THE WAAAY DOWN 4,000 feet (that's higher than any of the highest skyscrapers in the world) through the glass floor, which will need to be cleaned of vomit, I'm sure, throughout the day. A lot of people are criticizing this project as an eyesore to the Canyon, but I think, why not? There are already hotels, landing strips, motor boat docks, and helipads all over the Canyon. Plus this is a more wholesome way than a casino to make money for the Hualapai Indians.

Check out these construction workers. They're sticking out 70 feet from the edge of the Grand Canyon to install the walkway!


My only question is why do I have to pay some package prices, that include photo ops with the Indians and cowboy demonstrations, to walk on the walkway that I've already driven 242 miles out of my way to come see?

I Aim To Help

Today, I went over to Fairway to pick up a few things. I haven't been going there as much lately ever since the Equinox at 76th street closed, but today I happened to be in the neighborhood.

I got some fruit, some sparking water and a 1/2 gallon of milk, and then headed over to the cash registers. It was fairly subdued today, which at Fairway means that I only got hit once by a crazy, mean Senior Citizen. The express line wasn't that long either, and pretty soon I was at the cash register. All in all, a pretty smooth and short trip, which at Fairway is saying a lot.

The thing that has always impressed me the most at Fairway are the girls at the cash registers. These girls know their stuff. They know the difference between an English cucumber and a regular one; a Hawaiian and a Mexican papaya; and what are from the outside produce section versus the inside one (the prices are different in each section.) But today, I got a new girl; a new girl who was still in training. Oh god. Dealing with cash register people in training is so irritating sometimes. It's like you've become an involuntary participant in an instructional video. This girl made a mistake on my first item, and I pointed out that she was charging me the "inside" price, and not the "outside" one. Now not to cause any trouble, this girl was kind of ghetto, and she gave me a LOOK and screamed, "I need the KEY!" Well, I'm sorry that I put her out, but I was just trying to help her learn. She can thank me later when she passes the exam.

This Time It's Personal on Idol

Last week the foot fetishists and Asian mafia, couldn't save huffy, puffy Paul Kim. The other three to go were Rudy, Nicole and Amy and the most revealing thing about all of their departures was that their farewell performances were even more annoying than their first ones. Fantasia also came back, singing some song from The Color Purple, and looking constipated the whole time.

This week the boys had something to prove, after barely bothering to show up last week. And there was at least a glimmer of hope of a potential star in this week's male performances. The theme this week was dedications, which got some of our contestants a little too emotional, making me roll my eyes. I liked AJ Tabaldo the best. I don't even remember him last week, but this week, he got some snap in him, and sang "Feeling Good" in a pretty good performance. But his dancing had aspects of a weird burlesque act that looked like it should be in a Chippendale's training video. I did like the waving arms though; that was kind of cute. All he needs now is some leg warmers. At least his singing was good, and I had completely forgotten about this song. Typical American Idol though has already started to kill this song since dogwalker Leslie sang this exact same song the next day.

The worst guy was a toss-up between Most-Likely-To-Beat-It-Sanjaya Malakar and Brandon "Buckwheat" Rogers. I have to throw Brandon under the bus. Sanjaya was at least memorable (in a bad way) for the ridiculousness of his Gayle King hair, Michael Jackson outfit and fucking whispering a really lame song. Note to Sanjaya: having an "old soul" does not mean you have good taste.

But if Brandon wants to hammer into our heads why he was a background singer all this time, he couldn't be doing a better job. He just put us all to sleep with his tepid and embarrassingly boring singing of "Time After Time." Plus he whispers into the mic like a phone sex operator.

Before I get to the girls, I have to comment on Fox's subliminal messages to us to watch Jeff Foxworthy's new gameshow by panning to Jeff Foxworthy in the Idol audience 5 times every two minutes and relentlessly showing us ads for his new show 500 times the entire night. Subtle, guys.

After opening a huge can of whoop ass last week, the girls turned all weepy and sobby this week from their dedications. Jordin, who can't spell her own name, got a free Get Out of Jail card, when the judges failed to call her out on her off-key singing, and instead gave her some coos and puppy dog eyes and excused her sorry-ass wobbly performance.

Lakisha sang one of the greatest songs ever, "Midnight Train to Georgia." She was a'right, but not as good as when Paris sang it last year. I still haven't joined the Lakisha train. Melinda still remains my favorite, although I didn't think her performance this week was as much fun as last week. And now I'm beginning to notice her weird mannerisms and geez, Melinda, a little humility is refreshing, but your banter with Ryan sounded really forced. Of course, Ryan probably put you up to it.

The one problem that pervades American Idol is that no matter what season, all the girls get the Whitney/Celine syndrome. Now Whitney, I can excuse, because she's got some pretty kick ass songs and Whitney's become so much more fun now that she's become Crazy Whitney (although not nearly as much fun as Crazy Britney). But what Simon says is true, you are ALWAYS going to be compared to the original and so you better have some big pipes to bring it. Sabrina and Haley got the Whitney-drome, and kind of did okay. Haley was a little strange and I thought her head was going to explode like wind-up doll wound up too much.

Poor Antonella, though, got Celineitis. My main question is though who the hell wants to sing like Celine anyway? Why in the world did Antonella say "This song is more me." I'm too perplexed by that statement (am I supposed to see her as a creepy 60 year old French Canadian bear's concubine?) to make a snarky remark.

Well, I was late with this week's Idol reviews, and we all know what happened. I'm sad that the guy I voted for got kicked off. In any case, my votes for this week:

Best Guy: AJ Tabaldo. He's the best flipping-the-collar-as-if-ish gay guy on the show.

Worst Guy: Brandon Rogers. Did he actually try to blame his grandmother for his lame-o performance?

Best Girl: Melinda Doolittle again. Hmmm. You have a vocalist coach and a stylist? Makes me rethink your humble image. You're a professional. Still so far, you haven't sung one bad note.

Worst Girl: Antonella Barba again. Your pot shot comment at Simon about Jennifer Hudson was really lame and your rolling eyes didn't get you any points from me either.

I'm The Next Stay-Puft Man

Earlier tonight, I made marshmallows. I know what you're thinking - who makes their own marshmallows? I actually never even knew you could make them. If you had told me that marshmallows grew on trees, I would have believed you (turns out as you'll see below, I wasn't so far off.)

I don't even like marshmallows that much, but I was just thinking earlier tonight, "I think I feel like making marshmallows." (I'm the weird type of guy who would actually have such a thought.) I don't know why I was having this urge. It's not like I've ever had strong feelings for them. I think this box of unflavored gelatin was just calling out to me to use it. By the way, as a total sidebar, I have to say that Jell-o is one of my most favorite foods in the world. I could eat it all day.

I went online to do some research. I learned that originally marshmallows were made with the extract of marshmallow plant, which served as a gelling agent. Since I do not grow marshmallow plants in my apartment, I would have to go the non-plant route. After doing some more research, I found a recipe that called for light corn syrup, gelatin, water and sugar, all things that I happened to have in my cabinets. (I had prepared myself for my marshmallow experiment day to come).

The process was weird and messy, but kind of fun. The mixture is clear when you wouldn't expect it to be, and then turns white when you wouldn't expect it to. And the texture just morphs in really unexpected ways until ta-da, you have marshmallows!

But geez, what a pain to get out of the mixing bowl! The mixture gets stiff pretty fast and gives your mixer a work out. And then getting the stuff out of the bowl is next to impossible because the stuff sticks everywhere. One spatula grew into a spatula and a butter knife; then a spatula, butter knife, and tablespoon; and then a spatula, butter knife, tablespoon and my hands. I gave up after a while because I was sick of my hands having long stretchy spider web strands coming off of them. I left a third of the marshmallow goo in the bowl and just went on with the rest.

(Cut to present, 4 hours later)

I checked on my marshmallows, and I just had to try one. It was awesome. Totally different than a store-bought marshmallow. Store-bought ones are chewy and spongy. Homemade ones are thicker, denser and moist, and kind of melt in your mouth as soon you bite into them.

I think I wanna make these again. Plus I still have two packs of gelatin left. But I don't want to turn into my old college roommate. I remember one time I came home and she was just sitting on the couch with a jar of marshmallow fluff eating it by the spoonful. A girl and her fluff. Such a special moment.

Moldy Return (Confessional #4: I'm Scared To Death of Mold)

Today, I arrived in the office to discover that the orange I left on my desk had grown mold! Ewwwwwwwww. I could see the green fuzz and was petrified of moving it and releasing mushroom clouds of spores into the air. If there's anything that gives me the heebie-jeebies, it's mold. It really freaks me out, and I get really paranoid about food going bad. It was only recently that I allowed myself to drink milk more than two days old.

I remember one time on one of my many trips to San Francisco, I nearly had a stroke on the plane, because I realized that I left a kiwi in my fruit bowl! I had about 2 hours left in my flight, and that was ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT for the rest of the flight. As soon as we landed, I got my blackberry out and started frantically clicking out an email to my friend to go into my apartment (he has a key) and dispose of the offending kiwi. Long story short, Operation Kiwi went very smoothly, and there wasn't a hint of mold anyway, and I could breathe easy again.

I think I'll start a personal hazmat team service, because I know first-hand the importance of having one.

There's A Bear In There

I've been growing my beard out every few days over the past few weeks, causing a bit of a stir in my circles, which in my world are very small. A couple weeks ago, for instance, I got my haircut . My stylist rubbed my chin and exclaimed, "I love it!" The other stylists came over too and surrounded me. They started ooohing and awhhhing. I was the center of attention.

I've been quite surprised with my beard experiment. I had gotten a preview when I took a break from shaving after I got home from the hospital from my broken arm incident. I didn't shave for two weeks because with just one functioning arm, shaving was way too much of a pain.

This time, I've actually left my apartment all scruffy and let my friends see my beard, and the reaction has been more and more admiration. One friend said, "It makes you look so distinguished." Another said, "I love the look on you."

It wasn't till lately that i started liking light beards and scruff on guys. I still maintain that upon first meeting someone, a beard would never improve the face value of a person. It will either cause a neutral or negative effect. But I'm beginning to rethink that. And now I'm trying it out for myself.

My personal feeling about beards, is that if you can't grow an even one, i.e., even thickness on all sides of your face, don't bother. Also, you don't really see beards on Asian guys, and the ones I have seen, I've always thought looked pretty bad or just did nothing to improve the guy. Asians just don't really have the genetics for beards and the hair on their faces tends to grow a little straggly and a little random like moss on a tree--splotchy and spotty.

Luckily, for me, my beard, has been largely hands-off. Just a few days of not shaving and before long, I was on my way to burly beardom. Give me a month, and I'll have a beard that would make Grizzly Adams look on in shame and cause two thirds of ZZ Top to blush with envy.

So I've been growing my hair follicle face kudzu mostly out of laziness. I guess it's been a little bit of a contemplative exercise too. And of course it has come in handy in New York when January came and the cold winter winds whip their little knives right into my skin. I don't have a guy friend's face to worry about scratching either, which I can thank single life for.

The nicest thing about having a beard is that my mornings are a heck of a lot faster now. It's shower, brush teeth and get dressed and go.

I also discovered Beards.org which is where you go when you want to get serious about your beard. The guys there say every guy should grow a full beard at least once in your life. Being a guy myself, I can't argue with that.

My beard after I broke my arm. I'll have to get a more current pic.

The Divas Came Back Last Night On Idol

We've finally gotten to the real part of the American Idol competition. Tuesday night was the boys, and they sucked ass. I think the worst had to have been Sundance. I don't know what crap song he was singing, and he didn't even sing it in tune. He looked like he was actually trying to sound like screeching roadkill. It was also very amusing last night to see all the guys scowling and crossing their arms after every time the judges reminded them how much they sucked last night.

But last night the girls took their turn and they were leaps and bounds better than the guys. The standouts for me were Stephanie and Melinda. Melinda sang an Aretha Franklin song ("Since You've Been Gone"), one which I had always thought of as kind of an anticlimactic tune because it just kind of builds and builds and crescendos and crescendos without any huge screaming finish. But Melinda came out movin' and groovin' and gave the song a second life. Plus Melinda, who must have lost her neck in a tree cutting accident, really does have a great story, like Simon says--background singer to Gladys Knight and now she comes out on her own, but she's so humble about it that you're naturally rooting for her. If I had to give some advice to Melinda, being the seasoned Idol watcher myself, I'd tell her to go easy on the "singing with my eyes closed" style and look at the camera some more.

But am I the only person who really didn't think Lakisha was all that? She did an admirable, even great, job on "And I Am Telling You." But I didn't think she was anywhere close to Jennifer Hudson's or Jennifer Holliday's delivery (and she lacked Jennifer Holliday's funny faces). Simon said "I think the other 23 should go ahead and book their plane tickets home." Well that's just a prematurely dumb thing to say. Mandisa was the belter last year and had loads of natural talent, but look how far it got her in the show. Of course, Mandisa started hating on gays and preaching about Jesus all the time. If Lakisha can avoid that, she'll probably stay a crowd favorite. But something about Lakisha just bugs me. She always hangs her head and looks like she's about to cry because American Idol is going to give her and her baby so many "opportunities." Well, duh. Winning Idol would change anyone's life. I think she just hit one of my pet peeves--people trying to get the "I've worked so hard and sacrificed so much" vote. Everybody works hard. Everybody makes sacrifices. It's all relative, and it annoys me that I'm getting the sympathy vote vibe from her.

My votes this week (links are provided for the best performances. I didn't bother for the worst):

Best Guy: Chris Richardson. I liked his rendition of Gavin DeGraw's "I Don't Want To Be" even though that song has been Idol-ed to death. Plus he's from Virginia!

Worst Guy: Sundance. Dude, everyone's forgotten about your great audition and we've all moved on. Time to step it up.

Best Girl: Melinda Doolittle. Her lack of divadom is refreshing.

Worst Girl: Antonella Barba. This jersey girl looks like she was born in a mall. She butchered that Aerosmith song that makes me all teary-eyed every time I see Armageddon.

I Heard on the Ski Lift or How Some People Have No Sense of Geography

One of the most distinctive features of skiing is conversations on the ski lift with complete strangers or overhearing sometimes some very personal discussions on the ski lift. I don't know why some people suffer TMI on the ski lift and share way too much so not only can I hear all their intimate details, but so can the lifts in front of and behind us. At least these people aren't debating the best way to get to wherever or some guy isn't bragging about some secret road that he took to get here five minutes faster than it took all the schmucks who took the highway. Having a conversation like that on a ski lift is like leaving your lift ticket on your jacket all year long. Both scream "SKI TOOL."

Anyhow, I struck up some conversations during my day at Heavenly a couple weekends ago. I don't really remember any individual people who I spoke to, but I do remember the biggest theme was "How about that snow you guys had?" They were referring to the 100 or so inches of snow that New York got, that's New York State. I tried not to be too condescending, and I think I was pretty nice about it, since I'm an all-around nice guy, when I said to them, "Um, dude, that was up by Canada."

I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. No one cares about upstate New York. It might as well be our version of Deliverance and most people just think they're Canadian up there anyway.

The Greatest Story Ever Told

Since I was without my bags on my first full day in Tahoe, I had plenty of free time. Although I took a shower that day, wearing the same clothes as the day before made me feel like a greasy whore leaving the motel in the morning. So I decided my first task of the day would be to find some new clothes. I also had ripped my pants which told me that I must have some serious huge thigh action going on in my lower limbs to rip through my pants.

I headed to the outlet stores in South Lake Tahoe, and pretty soon found some new socks, underwear, a sweatshirt and some new cargo pants at the Izod, Pearl Izumi and North Face outlets. At my last stop at North Face, I changed in the dressing room and felt a million times better and more importantly cleaner. I also got a free pair of socks at Pearl Izumi, because the girl there took sympathy when I milked my lost baggage story to her. Free stuff is always good.

At the outlet mall, I stopped by a little activity/information booth that advertised two Heavenly ski lift tickets for $32. I asked the guy how to get them and he laid out the whole deal about seeing a great vacation deal, and getting a great gift for only 90 minutes of my time.

I was interested, and I really didn't have anything better to do that day, other than gamble, but I just didn't feel like brushing up on my blackjack strategies. So I signed myself up and drove on over to the Sunterra Lake Tahoe resort.

After waiting about 20 minutes, my personal salesperson came out to greet me. She led me into a bigger room where literally 20 or so other salespeople were trying to indoctrinate the life-saving virtues of timeshares. My saleswoman sat me down and began to ask me some "data collection" statistics and I appear to be a top-notch client. Example: I have spent money on vacations to Australia, Switzerland, plenty of exotic stateside destinations, and plan on going to Turkey and Italy later this year. I am close to their top income bracket AND I have no kids. I'm young too, which means I have many years of vacationing in front of me.

In other words, I could NOT have had a bigger target on my back if I tried.

Before I even found out about any financing or saw an example room, my saleswoman started her obviously prepared spiel. This woman had come up with the story of the ages. I guess it was all true, and if it really was, boy has she had a life, and clearly timeshares came to her rescue like Calgon does to women everyday. First off this women was kind of Texas looking. You know, big hair, excessively tanned and wearing way too much jewelry and makeup. She was probably about 50 and seemed like a typical snarky over-perfumed real estate agent.

She started her sob story by telling me that she loved to travel and that vacations were very important to her. She told me she liked to go to nice places and travel in style like go to Fiji on Singapore Airlines in First Class. I was totally digging that, and for a second, I was falling under her spell, but I kept reminding myself, "She's just trying to get you." Then she told me she got a divorce from her husband. Then, with a tear in her eye, she told me that after the divorce both her parents died and that her parents left her a timeshare, which was the best gift she ever received. And she told me that since she has no children, she planned to give her timeshare to her goddaughter. It was all so Sophie's Choice, and I was secretly beginning to roll my eyes at the desperate attempt to make me believe that this timeshare could actually save lives instead of make her a nice commission.

I went up to the rooms, and saw a pretty nice room--not Four Seasons nice, but reasonable Hilton/Marriott nice. Then I came back downstairs, and we began to talk numbers. Nearby, another couple had apparently just changed their lives, because a tiny bottle of champagne had just been opened and a group of salespeople were around their table clapping.

To better explain the numbers, my saleswoman brought over this RUDE financial "advisor." She was one of those types who simply refuse to take no for an answer. In fact, before I could even say "no", she asked me "How would you like to handle your down payment?" When I declined, she said, "What if we reduced your down payment ($10,000)?" I said "NO." She said, "But why?" I replied, "I'm just not ready to make a decision about this today." Well, she was practically rendered speechless with fury. She left in a huff, "You know how many people come back and let go of this one time only offer? NONE!" With that, she left in a big huff. I apparently ruined her whole day.

After my financial advisor left, my saleswoman came back, and she didn't seem that upset, which was good. But I was ready to leave. I had been there for three fucking hours already. My saleswoman ushered me to the "didn't buy" guy who tried to give me some more incentives and also asked me some of the same questions about my income and vacation habits as my saleswoman. I was getting royally pissed off and told him so. I really wasn't that mad before, but he was making me mad.

I finally left with my lift tickets. It was worth it, I say. A one day lift ticket at Heavenly is a ridiculous $74, and I got two for $16 each. But I also learned how to punish my worst enemy--send them to a timeshare presentation.

I could have been one of these guys:

You Too Can Be Ponce De Leon

The weekend before last, on my way to San Francisco, I did a stopover in Tahoe to get some skiing in. On my way there, I was a little nervous, because our plane from New York was delayed about an hour and a half, and I was worried my bags wouldn't make my connection in Denver. In Denver, I asked the gate agent, "Are my bags gonna make it?" He assured me, "Don't worry. They'll make it."

Lo and behold, when I got to Reno/Tahoe Airport, my poor bags did not come out on the carousel. I didn't take it too hard. I just filled out my report with United, got my rental car and proceeded to get my rental car. There, I encountered what must have been the sloooowest desk agent, I have ever met. I waited for 30 minutes to get to the head of the line. Finally, I got my car - a cute silver Jeep Liberty - and drove off to Tahoe across the Nevada desert. On my way to Tahoe, I passed through Carson City. I've never had a more impressive first sight of a city before. It was like coming to Shangri-La. All of a sudden, sunken in a valley, Carson City just appears out of nowhere. The stretch of Highway 395 from Reno to Tahoe is pretty flat and desolate, with stretches of 70 mph zones. And driving down it at 10 o'clock at night doesn't make you feel any less lonely.

Anyhow, I was driving along, and I guess I had reached a fairly high altitude, because the bright lights of Carson City (yes, "bright lights" of Carson City, of all places) poked through the mountains and were a welcome sight to me from my automobile perch high above. I was actually looking for an In-N-Out Burger, but I didn't see the reassuring yellow arrow anywhere.

Well, this post is kind of lame and well, kind of boring, and so I'll end it here. But I really did feel like I had discovered a new place--Carson City of all places. I didn't stop in Carson City at all, and so I didn't meet anyone, but I wonder how many explorers like me they get every year.

And I Thought I Hated My Name

I'm at Gate 81, waiting for my flight back to New York. I'm honestly a little surprised that I'm even coming back today because I kept hearing about people still stranded eons later due to the freezing rainstorm, but I guess that was all JetBlue. Good old United seems to have recovered well, and I'm looking forward to coming home.

Right now, I'm sitting peacefully in the Gate waiting area, doing a crossword puzzle. It's getting close to boarding time, and I see the agents scurrying about doing whatever they do to prepare for a flight. One of them just picked up the phone to make an announcment. She calls out, "Passenger Mordechai [I had to look up the spelling of that] Sailor, please come to the Gate 81 podium." Now I'm giggling. Why do they always announce people with the funniest names? Reminds me of hurricane names or the names you see on the SAT verbal section.

Valentine's In San Francisco

Time for another week in San Francisco. It's Valentine's Day and I'm here in San Francisco on another work trip. Nothing romantic though is happening on my end. It would have been nice to have had a day off. It's a nice sunny day here. Alas, I had to work today. I remember at my old job, I commented one time to a partner, "You know, it's Valentine's Day tomorrow." And he was like "Oh really? Do we get the day off?"

San Franciscans also have nicer street marketing battalions. In New York, all we get are menus to some random Indian restaurant on every street corner. But today in San Francisco, I got a fake blue carnation from Nivea, a free red frisbee from Virgin Atlantic, and a flyer about what a horrible employer Blue Diamond Nuts is. Also, I found out that San Franciscans like to whack the crap out of each other by hosting the biggest pillow fight that I have ever seen.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

Finally! Lost is Back!

This is the just thing I needed to perk me up. I've been kind of blah lately, which I'm attributing to pre-Valentine's depression. But now I am totally pumped up for the return of Lost! I'll finally find out if Juliet calls Jack on his bluff, and what's up with Desmond's clairvoyance. Bai Ling has joined the cast, and I think she's in one of Jack's flashbacks as a Thai prostitute. And will we finally find out what the deal is with Ben, leader of The Others, and his crazy, gun-toting gang of Hawaiian mafia?

I am just so happy. The balance has been returned back to the force. Life is good again.

I Covet Thee

I used to be quite the spender on Madison Avenue. The folks at Barneys and Calvin Klein and Prada knew me by my name and welcomed me with open arms and glasses of champagne and the latest offerings from the season.

But I have curbed my spending. I tell people the real reason is for my Manhattan apartment fund, but the larger reason is that I honestly feel like I have everything that falls in my taste realm. When I go into stores these days, I get kind of bored because either the clothes are too crazy that no sane guy with any sense of masculinity would wear them, or I already have five shirts like it.

But someone please tell me that it's crazy to spend $1,100 on this bag from Mulberry. Omg, I love it. Actually, maybe you need to tie me down to a chair, and cut up my credit card.

Here In TCho's World, We Do It All Night

On Thursday night/Friday morning, I had to pull an all-nighter. It BLEW. I haven't pulled any all-nighters since my days at the law firm. But on Wednesday I got handed this project that I thought would take me 4 or 5 hours instead of the 13 it ended up taking me. At first i thought the project would be kind of fun because I'd get to show off my Excel skills, and as many times as I've whipped up fancy spreadsheets, I still get a thrill from entering formulas and macros. Well at the 4th hour, this project officially changed from fun to absolute suckfest of all time.

Unfortunately, I seem to be one of those people who seem to be fairly resilient to lack of sleep. This might sound great to all the over-achievers out there, but it has neither helped me over-achieve, nor even just stay caught up with all my shit. It just allowed me to earn oodles and oodles of overtime and gain tons of weight. That was one of the first things I realized about staying up late: the more hours you're up, the more you eat. I get the munchies pretty often, but I usually need something extreme in flavor, like really salty, really sour or really sweet. And unfortunately, the most flavorful foods tend to be the fattiest.

The funniest story I have about one of my all-nighters at my job is when my coworkers actually called security because they thought I went missing. It was 6 in the morning, and me and two others had been at the office all night. I was sitting at one of the computers in our bigger caseroom, when all of a sudden, I heard

"Terence, Terence, where are you?!?"

"I'm right here, dumbass," I replied.

"Oh my god, we thought you were missing! We thought maybe you fell asleep in the stairwell."

To their credit, I had been known to doze off on our many all-nighters, but they were all in my office. So I'm not quite sure why they were prepared to do an operation out of CSI to find me.

But the difference with this overtime is that I did it at home rather than at the office. Like I've mentioned before, the nature of my current job (I pretend that I'm computer-saavy IT person; hopefully my company never finds out how dumb I really am) allows me to work from home once in a while. So I sat down at my desk on Thursday night around 9PM with coffee to my right (far away from my computer so this wouldn't happen again) and lists of pointless numbers and documents to my left. I had to sit at my desk because I left my work laptop at the office, which meant no sitting on my couch and not getting anything truly significant done. Unfortunately, I'm a feng shui novice, and the position of my desk and desk chair have my back facing the TV.

After 5 hours of work, I realize that I'm nowhere close to being done. I'm sufficiently wired to keep on going, but my annoyance level is rising dramatically. Why the hell am I spending all this time fixing the client's work?!? How come I don't get paid overtime?!? I plod through, and before I know it I see the sun rising. Still, this project took me well PAST sunrise till freaking 12 noon. At the end of my long drawn out all-nighter (and all-morninger), I had that sense of euphoria, delirium and lightheadedness that can only come from a well balanced combination of caffeine, irritation, fatigue, and sense of accomplishment.

At 1:00PM on Friday, I was officially done and sent off my final product to the client. I was getting my second wind, but I knew I needed to sleep. Before going to sleep, I turned on the TV, and The Lake House was on. I defy you to start watching this movie and not finish it. So instead of going straight to sleep, I continued my caffeine-induced state for a couple more hours.

Rock on Jesus

It all started innocently a couple years ago. I was poking around iTunes for some new music, and I found this song "Incredible" by Darius. At the time, I thought it was so catchy and immediately added it to one of my Spinning mixes. Oh, when I say Spinning, I'm talking about Indoor Cycling. I happen to be a certified Spinning Instructor and have taught one or two classes as a sub. I couldn't pursue it as a real job though because unfortunately my employer didn't really give me time to go off and be Lance Armstrong. But I still went to class during my lunch breaks, and my coworkers could usually guess where I was going, except a couple of them didn't know what Spinning was. One day when I left, I overheard a friend of mine at work ask someone else, "What's Spinning class?" My friend told him, "Oh it's some DJ class that Terence takes."

Well obviously I am not DJ Terence by night (or maybe I am? Is that how people see me?) But little did my coworker know that I do have an inner-DJ in me. I have close to 100 Spinning mixes that are all carefully designed and mixed to provide a soundtrack to all of my workouts. And I like discovering new bands. So I was pretty pleased with myself when I "discovered" Darius. Pretty soon, I looked up the lyrics and was singing along to my new favorite song. If you were to ask me though, what exactly I was singing, I probably would have had a pretty tough time telling you. I often don't really pay attention to the lyrics when I'm singing a song. That's why you can hear me sing the words to Spanish songs, even though I don't speak a word of Spanish. It's usually after a few listens that I start to listen because at that point, I've gotten sick of just humming the tune, and want to learn the lyrics.

So for a few days, my latest tune du jour was this new song, "Incredible" by Darius. After a few days, I had done gone through my 5,000 repeat cycles of that song (omg, THAT used to drive my old roommate crazy) and began to really read the lyrics. A couple of the lyrics go "You are incredible. You are amazing," and the rest of the song is more cheesy stuff like that, making me think this was a romantic love song. I got more curious, and looked up some info on the band. That's when I discovered that I had inadvertently become a fan of a Christian Rock band!

I've always thought the idea of "Christian Rock" to be an oxymoron. Regular rock music is kind of "rebellious" music against your parents, the government or whoever you want to put in the role of the "establishment."

But Christian Rock praises Jesus, and I am not a Jesus-praiser by any stretch. I'm the type of person who would call having the exact amount of juice left in my ipod for my run at the gym my path towards official sainthood. This actually did happen to me. At the exact moment of the end of my 25 minute run on the treadmill, my ipod died. When I saw my friend later in the day, I told him, "I experienced a miracle at the gym today" with the same amount of seriousness and gravity you would use to announce a family tragedy.

I considered this new affinity for the music of the religious right as just a fluke. I kept picturing those delusional looking girls I've seen on those crazy televangelist shows swaying back and forth, singing the exact same type of lyrics that I found myself singing. It didn't stop with the folks from Darius. I realized I had plenty of Christian Rock hits in my iTunes library. Jars of Clay, Ronan Keating and Everyday Sunday (how the hell did I miss that that was a Christian Rock group!?!) have also found their way into my spinning mixes.

I'm just so embarrassed about this. Christian Rock is much more incriminating than my love of R&B. At least I haven't gone into a record store and asked "Where's your Christian Rock section?" You could substitute "Ultra-thin Tampax Tampons" in that sentence, and it would make no difference.

But now, I have a new favorite song. And so I close this post with a video from Rascal Flatts singing the ultra-sappy "Bless the Broken Road." You'd probably find these guys in the Country music section, rather than Christian Rock, but these guys are close enough. Besides, I suppose if I'm a 29 year old guy who likes the music of teenage black girls and Jesus worshipers, I might as well embrace the music of country hillbillies too.

Com*uter Hazards

S*illing coffee all over my keyboard, not to mention all over my desk and the floor underneath it, made me realize how it really sucks not to be able to ty*e a certain letter. Let's just say that it's the letter that *oughkeepsie, *aul *rudhomme, and *otato all begin with. Good thing I don't need to ty*e, "*eter *i*er *icked a *e**er."

I Need Cheese

I've been wanting to make this recipe that I cut from the Times for Finnish Meatballs, and the recipe calls for some Gouda cheese. But I haven't seen my crush in a week! Where'd he go? Maybe he's on vacation. Damn. I hope he's just on vacation or something. I knew I should have bought more cheese last time I saw him.

Most Exciting Moment of TCho's Life in 2006 (Confessional #3: I Love TV)

By now, it should be no secret to my readers that I'm addicted to TV and am completely unashamed of my addiction. When people tell me "I don't watch TV" or "I don't have a TV", I'm like "Who the fuck doesn't watch TV? What the hell do you do at night?" If anything, TV is important to my mental health, since I meet so few interesting people in real life, and choose instead to bond with characters from a sitcom.

I jest, of course. Believe it or not, sometimes while I'm watching TV, I actually do think "I could be doing something a lot more constructive. I'm a smart guy who could get so much more accomplished if I get up off this couch." But then the commercials end and the show comes back on, and I'm back to my happy, catatonic state.

So because of my love for TV, I couldn't write a year end review without a category dedicated to TV. In 2006, I got DVR! I got it through my cable company because I didn't feel like buying the official Tivo unit. And I am so happy with it. No more commercials; no more fiddling with recording shows on my VCR or my elaborate calendar, and most importantly no more missing my favorite shows. DVR has changed my life. Although, I do feel left out because my DVR doesn't have the "blub, blub.....ka-CHONG" sounds that Mr. Tivo makes. Plus if I had Tivo, I could have had a cute title to this post like "I'vo got Tivo" or maybe "We'vo got Tivo." But that latter title doesn't quite work since I live alone.

And that concludes my 2006 review. Thanks for reading! Now I'm ready to catch up with the rest of the world in 2007.

Biggest Disappointment of 2006: Bode Miller

Bode Miller came into the Turin Olympics as the most hyped athelete, sure to win gold at multiple downhill events. But after several disappointing runs, including a disqualification and a DNF, Bode disappointed American and enraged the entire country.

To me, the athletes at the Olympics never really let their countries down. The Olympic movement is about as idealistic as the Nike advertising budget. So I didn't really have a problem with this slalom slacker partying it up "olympically" (yes, Bode found a way to turn the Olympics into an adverb) till dawn. But, geez, this guy has a big mouth. Earlier, before the Olympics, Bode told 60 Minutes, Time, Rolling Stone, and Newsweek that he frequently was drunk off his ass on the day of a race. While, I didn't think that was that bad, he went on to say a few weeks later that Lance Armstrong, Barry Bonds and a lot of other athletes "knowingly" cheated by taking performance-enhancing drugs. OMG. Is there a mute button on this guy?

To be fair, who wouldn't want to live the life that Bode lives? In 2005, he became the first American to win skiing's overall World Cup title in 22 years. What does that mean? Simply put, he's the best skier on the planet. And to get paid over a million dollars year to kick ass at skiing, while partying hard in some of the coolest towns in the world and meeting lots of girls is a life that I'm sure many guys would kill for. When he left Turin, he told reporters:

"The expectations were other people's. I'm comfortable with what I've accomplished, including at the Olympics. I wanted to have fun here, to enjoy the Olympic experience, not be holed up in a closet and not ever leave your room. I got to party and socialize at an Olympic level. I just did it my way. I'm not a martyr, and I'm not a do-gooder. I just want to go out and rock. And man, I rocked here."

Ok, he's not a martyr. I'll give him that. And I don't really mind that all he really got accomplished at the Olympics was lots of drinking and getting laid. In fact part of me applauds him for being real and unapologetic for his desire to just have fun. He was actually kind of endearing. But you won't see me proudly displaying my Bode Miller jersey anytime soon because Bode and his "Let's go get a beer!" mantra got old really fast. Like you do when you drink, I think Bode should have been thinking moderation. Before the Olympics, Bode was charmed with the image of a normal all-American (and can I say HOT) guy blessed with limitless skiing talent. But he really abused that image by showing up to races wasted, making moronic statements to the media, and just acting like a complete ass. I think the whole world including his own fellow Americans began to just see him as another selfish American, another potent symbol of our self-satisfied society.

I have nothing against athletes who are human, rather than sport-playing robots. But I do have a problem with spoiled famous people who act passive aggressive and whine that all they want is to be left alone. In Bode's words:

"Some people say I make mistakes. i just say that in fact this is the secret of enjoying life. I hate monotony. Why don't they leave me freedom of choice? People want to impose choices which aren't necessarily mine. That's the mistake people make."

What bugs me so much about Bode Miller in 2006 is that he just came off as a complete and utter retard, and an ungrateful one at that. His whole performance just smacked of no effort, while some poor guy is sitting back home in the U.S. wanted to kick Bode's ass for losing his spot to a guy who acts like he isn't even trying. And furthermore, cheering for him would be a pointless exercise because I would want to to extend any of my expectations on him, since Bode only listens to what Bode wants to do, and not anyone else.

Anyhow, if there's a silver lining to all of this, at least Bode didn't ask more from others than he was willing to contribute himself. He really just acted like a jackass last year, which is ironic, since a jackass would have done better than he did at the Olympics.

Best Investment of 2006: Arugula

Of course I had to have a year-end post about food, given all my food knowledge and general love of food. Earlier in September of last year, the nation had a spinach scare due to some pesky e. Coli found in some bagged spinach (total aside: I can't look at bacteria the same way ever since watching Nick Park's bacteria on Creature Comforts). As a result, spinach was taken off the shelves in grocery stores and from restaurant menus across the nation and you could hardly find it anywhere. People shunned it while looking for another leafy green to satisfy their Popeye craving. Enter arugula. I've actually always been surprised how many people have never heard of arugula. I remember asking a friend of mine (who lives in New Jersey, so not exactly the boonies), if he liked arugula. He replied, "What's arugula?" Granted, this was the same person who asked me "Why don't you just say 'cornmeal'" when I was explaining to him what polenta is.

As a result of the spinach scare, our nation's green leaf gurus decided to introduce America to Arugula. So, like Deena from Dreamgirls, Arugula stole spinach's thunder and emerged as a star. As the scare continued, farmers couldn't grow enough arugula, and you began to see dishes like "Arugula Salad" and "Sauteed Arugula" at Fridays and Chili's, the surest sign that America was ready for this bitter green.

You might have thought that Youtube was last year's best investment, but I would have put my money on arugula.

P.S., I realize that I'm a little late with finishing my 2006 review, but I just have two more topics! Then I'll join the rest of the world in 2007.