Omnivore's Hundred

Chotilde at Chocolate & Zucchini challenges us to take on Andrew Wheelers Omnivore's Hundred.

1. Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2. Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3. Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4. Optional extra: post a comment on Very Good Taste, linking to your results.

My list is below. Even though there are 29 I've not tried, I only marked a few that I wouldn't consider... for some reason or another.

1. Venison*
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Phở
13. PB&J sandwich *
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes*
22. Fresh wild berries*
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans*
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper (not a whole one!!)
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava*
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas (an allergy to wasabi prevents future consumption)
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar (not at the same time)
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects (probably not intentionally)
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/€80/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala*
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut*
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer*
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano*
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee*
100. Snake

* An asterisk marks the items I'm particularly fond of.

Green Belt... a non-accessory career accessory

The last week has found me a student of Six Sigma... formally. In a mere five days I was barraged and completed Green Belt training in Minneapolis. Unfortunately, I didn't see much of the city--at all. A 730-530 daily schedule, pending migraine and raging bout of insomnia found me vending my dinners quickly and not as efficiently as I would have hoped from the Mall of America, which was the only thing relatively close.

To those who have asked or would ask... I did not shop -- for much the same reason as I did not do much of anything else. I tried desperately and without much real effort to find a sweatshirt without a hood (lack of sleep and migraine combined with overpowering AC made me VERY cold all the time). But a pair of shoes did catch my eye at Steve Madden...

I did, however, meet some great people, and some folks with whom I work daily with, but have never had the pleasure of meeting live and in person. And, I did accomplish the purpose of the trip... as I am somewhat certain that I passed the final exam. The coming weeks will find me embarked on my certification journey... Pareto charts beware.

As usual, my travel was riddled with delays, the unusual and inanely dumb. After a mere three some hour delay out of PHL on Sunday night, we were told the ramp would be reopened and we would be 7th in line for take off... keep in mind, prior to the ramp again being closed (thunderstorms) we were told we were 3rd in line for take off. The following happened...

--the guy 5 rows up started to freak out at the sound of the engine gearing back up and demanded to know what was wrong with the plane, causing panic to those around him. The flight attendant gave the usual elevator speech, which was not easily digested.

--The guy next to me, who already voiced his belief that the airlines were out to get him personally, began pontificating further the conspiracy theory with the gentleman in front of him--both of whom on occasion looked to me for affirmation.

--The woman next to me had 5 conversations in her cell phone before looking at me and asking if I thought the flight attendant would let her off the plane. She did not understand the concept of being on an active run way--no where near the gate. Apparently, they do things a bit differently in Kansas City.

--The idiot man who had to be damn near 7 feet tall (and was as dumb as he was tall) decided he simply could not wait to go to the bathroom. I had encountered him in the airport when he did not seem to comprehend that his backpack was an extension of his body and it really did bother me when it smacked me in the head twice. Not only could he not hold it... he felt the need to get his backpack out of the overhead, put it on and casually stroll to the back of the plane. I had hoped we would take off with him in there, but we did not.

--Meanwhile, the conspiracy raged on my right as I was instructed to "LOOK" out the window and provide my assessment on why planes were not taking off quickly enough... did I notice there was a good 4-5 minutes between planes???

The flight home was not nearly as annoying or reportable... but I have come to the conclusion that men of a certain age, wearing a certain style of yuppie backpack with 2 small children in tow, have completely diminished any brain cell activity--apparently in exchange for sperm and EMS (that's Eastern Mountain Sports, not emergency medical services) gear. No doubt karma will come back to kick them in the ass when their 17 year old daughters come home with the fear flavor of the moment... and I plan to be in the airport to witness this 14 years or so from now.

But being home is good. Even if every muscle in my body aches and my migraine is still weaving its tendrils around the lobes of my brain.

Another Truth Sayer

Sad news. Bernie Mac has died.

Basketball

LA Sparks player Candace Parker's jersey is currently outselling Kobe Bryant and LeBron James... could be her dunks (the seond WNBA player to dunk--and has done it twice) or it could be her recent suspension for the melee with the Detroit Shock... I'd like to think, though a Detroit fan, that this little nod to the women's league is all about the talent, because Parker is amazingly talented a player.

Speaking of the Shock-Spark brawl of last week, Cheryl Ford--my favorite WNBA player--is out the rest of the season with a torn ACL after trying to restrain a teammate. So sad.

Sell out?

For a long time, I have had this image of Lenny Kravitz--a musician capable of taking his music to another level that can inspire and move people to action. Perhaps it is how he channels those who came before him, perhaps it is a naive hope of mine to see something transpire in a world where a revolution is truly needed. I held a momentary glimpse when I first heard "Love Revolution" the song has the vision and the movement behind it to do just what I thought Kravitz was capable of... until tonight when I saw this commercial for Kohls, featuring Kravitz and friends.

And a thought occurred to me.

Maybe Kravitz is who I thought him to be as an artist, he's just going another route. Like Andy Warhol before him, sometimes you have to test the boundaries of what is acceptable in art. We already know commercialism links work... but it is such a contradiction to think about a Love Revolution with shopping at a Kohls. Maybe it's a statement. Maybe it's a paycheck. I really don't know, but in order to make sense of this for me, I have to turn to the theories of abstract art.

LiveStrong

I'm happy to annouce the team that I walk with in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer has a team in Philly for next month's LiveStrong Event. Solo Strutters USA has expanded!!

Duelling Worlds

There's been much talk these days of whether we live in one world or if in the USA there are two worlds... indeed, Whoopi and her View co-worker got into a scrap over this very topic a week or so ago and even Barbara Walters could barely get a word in.

And I think the question of whether we live in one world or two is really oversimplifying the issue. There is no one world, there is no two-worlds... look around you and you will see that my world and experience is quite different than many others, and theirs mine... it isn't the P.C. thing to say, but we live in a caste-world, even in the USA. And that is as close to a 1-world description as we will ever get to.

Living in this world, though, doesn't mean that we can't all come to a common understanding; an understanding that the human condition -- the needs and fundamental physics -- are all the same. Sadly, that is where the breakdown happens; and it happens big--because here in the US of A, we don't fuck up small.

Despite my sarcasm and belief that the problem that exists is far grander in scale than what is portrayed (and that is part of the problem), I remain optimistic. Optimistic that there are people who get it, optimistic that the basic good in people will prevail, optimistic that with the right leaders hope can enlighten the rest. We've seen this happen; it's amazing and scary and exciting and long over due of late.

I don't believe the fundamental differences will dissipate, in fact, I would hope they don't, but there is a link between all the worlds that exist. We found it before, we can certainly find it again.

Coco

This week, Lauren alerted me to the fact that Shirley MacLaine was going to be playing fashionista Coco Chanel. I adore Shirley MacLaine, I can't wait until the miniseries airs (on Lifetime)... Here is my favorite piece of the interview she gave, and one of the reasons I love MacLaine:

"She (Audrey Hepburn) told me I should play Coco Chanel. I said: 'Well, Coco Chanel was a little scrunched over and very short.'

"And she said, 'But the spirit of the woman is what matches your spirit.'

"Now I found Coco to be everything between generous and rude, so I don't know what Audrey meant. But she was obviously right."

But wasn't Coco Chanel a lesbian?

"Well, just because you play the whole field, doesn't mean you are a lesbian." MacLaine replied.

A sickness

This was the sight today at my local grocery store... Holiday (as in Christmas) M&Ms on the shelf. Someone has taken this "Christmas in July" shit a little too far.

A bucket of men

Yesterday, along the usual route Lauren and I take back to the office after a coffee run, we came across a site that left us both almost speechless. There was a bulldozer coming down the road toward us (there is construction going on--they finally ended the protesting with the large inflatable rat) and in the bucket of the bulldozer were at least 10 men of Hispanic decent. I nearly had to stop and take a photo, but I did not; however, I did wonder, aloud, if this was Arlen Specter's latest in immigration reform. (Have I mentioned how thrilled I was to go from Carl Levin as my senator to Mr. Specter?)

This site has been, really, a source of great amusement. First it was the inflatable rat, then last week, it was the old guy with the braid down his back, spinning a STOP/SLOW sign and signalling (impatiently) to cars coming from both directions, to GO. And this week, a bucket full of men. I really can't tell what has been done in the last several weeks outside of making a huge mess of the road and creating a treacherous (yet entertaining) driving situation.

Breathing is for Rookies

Going through my closet this morning, trying to find that perfect balance between what is office appropriate (we have clients on site today), what is temperature appropriate for the two extremes of inside versus outside and what would suit my whim this fine Tuesday morning, I remembered the latter is the only thing that truly matters. My whimsy, it seemed hearkened me toward a dress I have not worn since last year. A fabulous purple with Far East accents piece that when zipped has something of a corset effect.

After holding my breath and zipping it up, I glanced in the mirror--who needs to breath when you look this skinny!! I'd have laughed, but I couldn't. It brought me back to bridesmaid dress shopping--when I insisted that we do any and all trying on of dressed before we had any kind of lunch (in actuality, this is how I insist on all clothing shopping). Everyone knows one hamburger and you go from a size 8 to a 14... it's fashion math.

So, am I going to wear this corset-like dress? Yes.
Is it comfortable? Not entirely.
Does it look good? Absolutely.

Channeling Coco

Not the warm, gooey, chocolate beverage suitable only for post-winter activity in front of a sparkling fireplace... that's a thought-gasm for another day. Rather, Coco, as in Chanel.

Friday, I got dressed, pulling out a garment that I had my mother make for me... since it was of my own devices, so to speak, the fabric was one I chose that when you live in Ann Arbor , MI (as I did at the time) wasn't unusual but it was unique. My dress on Friday was casual to me: gauchos, a tank and this wrap shirt over it. To others in the office, it was dressed up... by 2, I was a little tired of the compliments--as ungrateful as that may sound, because you have to wonder at some point--just how bad do I look the rest of the time?

After giving it a weekend of thought, and receiving a fair amount of out-of-the-ordinary attention yesterday I realized that it was not my dress--though "colorful" both days (yes, I an offending the Pennsylvania psyche with my bold use of color)--rather, it was my need to channel Coco Chanel. Friday morning as I applied my seafoam green eyeliner, I wanted inspiration and a thought occurred to me quickly... Chanel!!

The first Chanel I ever bought was in Chicago with J. We were on a quest for something--moisturizer, if I am not mistaken--and as J was toying with various options presented her I was drawn to the array of colors boldly emanating from the Chanel counter. The details of what happened next are foggy, but I somehow decided to try a lipstick... Coco Red. Why? Because I'd never tried a real red lipstick before... and if you are going to try red lipstick, Coco Red is the only way to go. I was skeptical, but J told me I had to because it was fabulous, and she was right. It was fabulous, and every time I wear it, I get a LOT of attention.

While I now have other shades and Chanel accents, Coco Red is my go to. It's a powerful tool and a flaming attention-getter... the latter I always am surprised by, even though I know I should not be.

Just a cartoon...

Sooo, the New Yorker Cartoon buzz has yet to wear down, but folks, it is over. Bottom line is that the media has exploited (yet again) something that is not even worth the effort. Satire, yes. Tasteful, probably not. But to keep asking if it is understood, I ask -- is there anyone that even understands a New Yorker cartoon to begin with?

Yesterday, I posted a link to Jon Stewart's satirising of the media over this... in which he said that Obama should have said that he doesn't care: "It's a fucking cartoon." Now, I understand all the racism, the fear mongering, the indecency in this country... but we will NEVER get beyond it and move forward until we do one thing... just stop. Frank Schaeffer's blasting of Stewart's bit on the Huffington Post today just proves that we need to stop; the dialogue long since stopped being productive. Despite what we are taught, free speech isn't a right, it's a privilege that comes with responsibilities and both sides of the fence and some in between have acted in irresponsible ways. But in a world where only the few random are punished (i.e. Don Imus) and quickly forgotten... irresponsibility runs amok all over the American public.

Gangs Signs in Sports?

The major sporting leagues (specifically the NFL and NBA) are concerned that players are using gang signs. I sense some jealousy... I mean, it isn't like sports would have a gang mentality... with their own signs and rituals. The notion is "ludacris" (as in crazy-ass silly and not the rapper with suspected gang links who is a guest star in an NBA video game).

Oh, and since I understand that there is a global (and in the US, things that happen in the US are considered global) deficiency in understanding sarcasm... I will just point out that this post is quite laden with sarcasm... is it in good taste? Well, seems that Arizona Daily Star is just one of MANY media outlets voicing in on what "good" sarcasm is... ironically, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert both chime in on the concept of sarcasm and media.

Getting by with a little help...

The week started off feeling blase and uggy (really, it's the best description). At some point, I decided I needed something to kick my ass out of it. So, I connected with an old friend--Maybelline Great Lash in blackest black. Admittedly, it was in first effort to not "look tired" in the office where on nights with little sleep or when work is catching up with me everyone asks me "What's wrong?" or "Am I feeling okay?"

That pink and green bottle and wand quickly lead me to rediscover the treasures in my closet; and frankly, I'd rather have the off-handed, "You, um, have, um, your own... style" than feel like a hanger for someone else's ideals. After all, I have always been a firm believer in color; and I don't think pink necessarily has to be worn with pink. Accessories should be fun and flirty and flaunt a feature... and I don't care if they don't match-match--there is something to be said for the fabulously mis-matched.*

It wasn't immediate, and I had to convince myself a few days, but soon my mood followed my fabulously adorned outside and before long, I found myself mischievously purchasing eyeliners in shades of blues and greens simply because I could. And I will say, like any good friend, after a few days, Maybelline sat me down and explained she would not be caught dead with me any longer until I got the bushes above my eyes taken care of.

And aside from good friends like Maybelline, OPI, Chanel, Nicole Miller, Kenneth Cole, BCBG... the real live flesh and body friends also made huge contributions... sending me crazy-assed links to news I should know and now wish I didn't... listening ad nauseum to my sudden life revelations (Does I was drunk on Prada count as an excuse?)... and simply being there -- even when I didn't know it.

*Fabulously mis-matching is not for novices or faint-of-heart; but highly recommended... even Calvin Klein has looked down the barrel of vast mistake but you gotta learn somehow.

This is bat country, my friends

And if the title leaves you scratching your head, read the first few pages of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas... and then keep going. It's a moment of pure writing brilliance on so many levels. It came to mind this evening as many random thoughts have run through this tired brain. And, while on my Facebook account this evening, I clicked my Hunter Thompson quote generator for a bit of wisdom from the Good Doctor and got the following (from another book, Hell's Angels):

The Edge ... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.

Seemed oh-so-appropriate on my day. This particular quote always feels like F&L to me, like it would fit into the section of the book talking about the wave and watermark. And so, it causes me to pick up the well worn copy of F&L and take it all in again; not sure whether to laugh or cry that in well over 30 years, it is still sharply relevant.