Katie Celebrates

I spent most of yesterday celebrating a friend’s birthday and just generally relaxing.  My friend had picked a few activities that she wanted to do, so around 11 I met up with her and her husband at Zocalo Café for brunch.  None of us had been there before, but it ended up being really tasty.  I had the chilaquiles—very good.  I would definitely go back there if given the opportunity.  We ate outdoors as it was slightly overcast and therefore not as hot as it could have been, and then we hopped into a car and took off for Hamilton Pool, which is about a 20 to 25 minute drive from Austin. 

 

Hamilton Pool was a new experience for me, and I enjoyed every moment of it.  After doing a little quarter-mile hike from the parking lot, the noises of people having fun in water can be heard.  Turning a corner and crossing a short wooden bridge, you are left looking at a little oasis: a very short, pebbly beach that faces out into a swimming hole surrounded on its other three sides by large rocks.

Yesterday was really the perfect day for swimming and relaxing; it wasn’t too hot, but it was hot enough that you wanted to get into the cold water.  If you know me at all, you know that I love swimming, even if I’m not the best at it and usually end up doggy-paddling around.  Water trickles down from the cliff that hangs out over the pool, and you can swim under it so that it feels like you’re swimming in the rain.  The pool was deep enough so that you couldn’t touch the bottom for most of the area of it, but not so deep that you could dive off any rocks, although there were kids cannon-balling off some.  If I ever go back, I think I’ll bring a large float that I can lay on and maybe try to take a book out on it (although I guess it’d have to be one that I wouldn’t mind getting a little wet if that were going to work).

 

We stayed at the pool for a couple hours and then headed back to the car.  On our way back to Austin we stopped at a little hole-in-the-wall called Bert and Ernie’s General Store or something like that.  It had a small bar with a porch out back, so we ordered a few Coronas and sat out back drinking, talking, and laughing.  All in all, it was a wonderful day, and when I got back to my apartment, I felt lazy and exhausted in that really nice way that you get when you’ve spent all day in the sun and water.  A really healthy feeling.  It made me look forward to “camp” next week, when I’ll be taking my nephew swimming (although a chlorinated pool is a slightly different experience) and having a good time with him and my sister.

Katie Got Her M.A. in B.S.

Last week, I received a letter from my grandma that included a clipping of this article from the Wall Street Journal.  Apparently, several art world bloggers have taken issue with the text accompanying the Whitney Museum’s Biennial exhibition of contemporary art.  Rather than criticizing the art, these writers have decided instead to discuss the text written for the show, calling it “impenetrable prose.”  The writer of the Journal’s article, Eric Gibson, moves from an overview of what has been said about the Biennial texts into a summary of the history of writing about art, stating that “Once upon a time, art writing was [smart, precise, unmuddled, and enjoyable],” but has since apparently devolved into nonsense like that which supplements the Whitney show.

 

It is at this point in Gibson’s article that I discover why this particular piece was sent to me.  No, it was not simply because I have a master’s in art history and have therefore done my fair share of writing about art.  Rather, it is Gibson’s claim that the artist Marcel Duchamp is to blame for today’s art-critical problems.  Gibson argues that Duchamp’s readymades “almost required” art critics to turn towards “willful obscurantism” when discussing modern and contemporary art.  He bases this statement on the aesthetic indifference Duchamp claimed to have when selecting a mass-produced object to become a readymade, Gibson assuming that art critics would recognize this indifference and therefore “[move] from the realm of visual experience to that of philosophy.”

 

Having written my master’s thesis on Duchamp’s readymades and Nietzsche, I suppose that I cannot argue with this conclusion.  The readymades insist on a philosophical reading because of their inherent questioning of what it means to call an object “art.”  What bothers me, however, is Gibson’s next statement, that having once moved into the realm of philosophy, “the writer no longer had to base his critical observations on a close scrutiny of the work of art.  He could simply riff.” 

 

During their first semester of the master’s program in art history, all students are required to take a course in Methods.  Methods is a horrible class that is dreaded by all, but, in the end, you emerge a better art historian because it forces you to think about how to approach the study of art.  There are several methods into which art historical writing can be categorized: style, connoisseurship, formalism, iconography and iconology, structuralism, intellectual history, social history, and artistic biography, to name a few.  You can probably figure out what most of these are on your own, so I won’t go into a detailed description of each, but the idea is that if you want to write about art, your conclusions have to be based on something, whether this is the quality of the art in comparison to other paintings or sculptures, a detailed look into the historical circumstances surrounding the creation of a work of art, or the psychology of the artist.

 

“Riffing,” however, is not considered an art historical method.  Gibson has no problem with aesthetic-based categories like Formalism and connoisseurship, it would seem, holding art historians of yore (Ruskin, Panofsky, Greenberg) in high esteem.  What he takes issue with are the methods that result when art historians turn to “areas outside of art and aesthetics—disciplines such as linguistics and ideologies such as Marxism and feminism—to interpret art,” concluding that this “drove [a] nail into the coffin of accessible writing.”  Ok, fair enough.  I took a course on Feminism and Art, and I would be the first to agree that the writing is not always clear.  (…neither is the art.)  But to argue that Marxism and feminism are completely outside the realm of art is pure nonsense.  No one can look at art made in the 1970s and believe this to actually be true.  There is no doubt that artists were examining these ideologies through their art, just as there is no doubt that Duchamp was posing philosophical questions in his art.  So why wouldn’t a critic consider such disciplines when writing about art that deals with feminism or Marxism or philosophy?

 

When explaining what art history is like to those who have not studied it, I have been known to refer to it as bullshit.  After reading many, many essays on modern art, it sometimes feels as though art historians can write anything they want to about a work of art because who is to say that they are wrong?  How can an interpretation of art be wrong?  I would not, however, blame this on the entrance of philosophy into art criticism.  Nor would I understand art criticism based on something other than aesthetics as the decision of the writer to ignore the art and “simply riff.”  (Indeed, I often find that it is art historical writing founded solely on aesthetics that appears to draw much more personal and tenuous conclusions.)  My own work on Duchamp has dealt with the philosophical aspects of the readymades, but it has done so in a thoroughly art historical manner.  If I had to choose a label from those listed above to apply to my own writing, it would be the intellectual history category.  In my thesis, I was not allowed to simply say, “Hey, look at these great comparisons I can draw between Duchamp and Nietzsche.”  Rather, I had to examine the historical time period in which Duchamp created the readymades, discovering the importance of Nietzsche’s writings to fin-de-siècle France.  This, along with Duchamp’s own writings, provided the evidence on which I could base my arguments.  “Riffing” was not an option. 

 

Sure, I understand that the Whitney’s writers did not necessarily have the same constraints placed on their writing as one who was composing a thesis.  And, yes, I would agree that sometimes art criticism can often be considered “impenetrable prose.”  From the excerpts included in Gibson’s article, it is clear that the writers for the Whitney texts should be ashamed.  But to blame their poor writing style on Duchamp and the readymades’ denial of aesthetics is absurd.  Duchamp’s own writings may have been “willful obscurantism,” but he was an artist, not an art critic.  To determine that the inclusion of philosophy, or history, or biography, in art critical writing has effectively eclipsed the work of art itself denies the fact that many of these methods do much more to enlighten the viewer as to the importance of the art than simple description ever could.  Not much is achieved in simply putting into words the visual experience of a painting or sculpture.  Rather, I would argue, it is much more central to the role of art criticism to determine what the work of art can tell us about our world, philosophical, historically, and personally.

Katie Would Like to Brighten Your Day

I have officially reached that part of the summer where you are so incredibly bored that you wish you could go back to school.  Unfortunately for me, I graduated this May, which means that there is no longer any school for me to return to, so instead of looking forward to going back to school, I’m looking forward to the day when I will have a full time job.  (Please hire me!)  Weird, I know.  You might be thinking sarcastically to yourself, “Oh, poor Katie Napkins.  She has nothing to do but sit around all day watching every episode of “Friends” on DVD.  She has such a hard life.”  Or you might be thinking of all the fabulous things you would be doing if you had time off like me.

Well, let me tell you, not having anything to do is no day at the park.  I wish I could go to the park!  But as it is a scorching 100+ degrees every day here in Austin, and my car’s air conditioning continues to refuse to cooperate, and I have read so many novels in the past month I feel like I might start narrating my life to myself…oh wait, that’s what a blog is, isn’t it?  The point is, I have suddenly become bored with all of my options.  I have nothing new from Netflix, I have read three books and seen two movies about men cheating in the past week and therefore have become disillusioned with the chick-lit/-flick genre, I have already had today’s venti unsweetened black iced tea from Starbucks, and I am rapidly finding it impossible to keep myself amused while 1.not spending money and 2.not stepping out into the sweltering heat.  

That said, I have decided to try and help any of my friends out there who are similarly finding their souls crushed under the weight of boredom.  For your perusal, I offer several things that I find amusing at all times, not just when I am extremely bored.  Enjoy!

 

This first video is from The Flight of the Conchord’s HBO series:

  

This next video is an old one from The Colbert Report, and I like to watch it every time I need a pick-me-up…and since I can’t get it to embed correctly in my blog for some reason, you will have to click here!

 

And this final video is from the Daily Show.  I caught a re-run this afternoon (in a hope to alleviate my boredom with television…it didn’t work) and found this particular segment hilarious, even though I may not have as much sympathy for Midwesterners (for personal reasons) as I should.  Once again, click, please.

 

Boredom can lead to other things beyond just internet videos, however.  Yes, it also leads one to start googling themselves.  Did you know that there are actually such things as Katie napkins?  I kid you not.  How odd. 

 

Finally, I find that nothing is as humorous as a bit of sacrilege.  While trying to order some personal checks, I ran across these.  I wasn’t sure what to make of them.  I was told they would be the perfect fodder for a blog entry.  Perhaps as you pay the bills with your Jesus checks, signing your life savings over to Time Warner Cable, you will be reminded that now it will be just that much easier for you to get into heaven.  Congrats!  Those days of trying to shove your camel through the eye of a needle are over!

 

I hope you have been sufficiently sidetracked from your daily tasks, just as I have almost forgotten how little there is for me to do at the moment!  Oh, and I will take suggestions on what it is I should be doing with all this free time; shoot me a comment.  Until next time…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Katie Wants to Hurt J.J. Abrams

I am officially behind the times by at least six years.  Thanks to Netflix, however, I can play catch-up and soon have the pop cultural knowledge of my peers.  My latest attempt at this was to watch the entire series of “Felicity,” a show that aired from 1998 to 2002 and told the story of one girl’s (Felicity’s, obviously) journey through college.  I loved this show!  Although I wouldn’t say that there were any similarities between Felicity’s and my own college experience (I was fortunate enough not to encounter the problems that she and her friends did, such as alcoholism, adultery and just plain ol’ cheating, depression, death, divorce, pregnancy scares, robbery, rape, and a fire in the administration building, to name a few), but I still thought the show was very entertaining, and I’m not too proud to admit that I became very invested in the lives of its characters.

 

Which is perhaps why I’m so ticked off with J.J. Abrams, executive producer of “Felicity.”  Not only did he change the theme song mid-way through the series to one he wrote himself that included a lyric about “shoe leather” (who the hell talks about shoe leather??), but I blame him (perhaps unfairly; I don’t know how TV shows work) for the disastrous last four or five episodes of the show.  A show like “Felicity” should have an ending that its viewers can respect, one that wraps up the story line but at the same time lets us know that the characters are going to move on in their lives and new adventures are going to happen to them, even if we the viewers cannot be witnesses to them.  (See, for example, the last episode of “Gilmore Girls.”  Yes, the series was awful by the last season, but at least they didn’t feel the need to have Rory say yes to Logan’s proposal.)  The last few episodes of such a fine program should not, however, include time-travel.

 

Yes, you read that correctly.  Felicity travels back in time in the last four or so episodes, reliving parts of her senior year, because, after her long-term boyfriend Ben has cheated on her, she decides she would rather have been with the other guy, Noel.  In my opinion, there are several problems with this besides the fact that it is, well, time travel.  First, the series should have ended with Felicity’s graduation from college.  I cannot understand why they did two episodes that supposedly took place six months and then a year after graduation.  It had a feeling of inconsistency to it because the whole series was based around her time in college: the first season was freshman year, the second was her sophomore year, etc.  Showing us what happened after graduation and in such an odd time frame felt jerky.  Second, Ben’s character did not deserve the injustice Abrams and his associates leveled on him by writing an episode in which he cheats on Felicity!  After everything this couple has been through and survived, I did not find it convincing.  Yes, I know people cheat.  Hell, Felicity cheated on Ben.  Maybe you have to see it to understand, but it didn’t feel like something that would have happened to this couple.  (See, I told you I had become invested.) 

 

Third, Felicity’s time travel allows her to determine that Ben is in fact the guy for her.  Perhaps this was supposed to make me feel settled, confident in the fact that Ben and Felicity were “meant to be together” and would have a long and happy life together.  Unfortunately, if this was Abrams’s plan, it backfired.  If Felicity didn’t know that she wanted to be with Ben without going back in time and realizing that Noel didn’t necessarily want her, then what hope can their relationship have?  I’m sure that there have been times when I have looked back on parts of my life and thought, “Oh, wouldn’t it be nice if I could have dated that nice guy instead of the one that made my life more complicated?” so I can sort of understand why the writers would have thought this would be an interesting way for Felicity actually to see what would have happened.  And yes, there were other “mystical” aspects of the show that could have legitimized this plot device (I don’t know, is time travel a plot device?  Probably not.), for instance, Meghan performs a spell that gets Ben and Felicity together in the first place, and there was that really weird Twilight Zone-ish episode (which I also hated.  A waste of an episode!).  I guess my real contention with Felicity’s time traveling episode comes in point four, below.

 

Fourth (here it is), Abrams completely fouls up the whole issue of time travel.  (I know, now I’m arguing that time travel is feasible and that the show incorrectly portrayed how it works, but whatever.)  When Felicity goes “back to the future,” as it were, I can see two possible ways to have the final episode play out.  One, she could have rewritten the past and everything could be different now as a result of her taking different actions, or Two, everything could remain the same as before.  The show seems to take the second route with a Wizard of Oz-like scene; Felicity wakes up, finds out she was sick in the night with a very high fever (rather than a bumped head during a tornado), and informs her friends that she had a very strange dream about the past in which they each had roles.  Ben and Felicity make up, whatever, then they all go to Noel’s wedding.  But wait, who is that couple sitting over there?  Tracy and Elena??  Hold on!  They broke up somewhere in season two or three.  And Elena DIED for Pete’s sake in one of those stupid post-graduation episodes.  What the hell is she doing alive?  And with her ex-boyfriend?? 

 

If I had watched this show when it was originally on TV instead of on DVD, I would have been very confused and probably more than a little perturbed.  In the final episode, no explanation is given as to why Elena is risen from the grave, but on the DVD, the viewer is allowed to see the scene that was deleted: Felicity tip-toes into Elena’s bedroom the night before she is transported back to the future (ok, I don’t have a better phrase), and tells Elena to choose Duke med school over Columbia and therefore avoid getting in a car accident.  Now, I’m all for choosing Duke whenever possible (Go devils!), but if Elena remembers Felicity telling her this and still has the sheet of paper that Felicity wrote “GO TO DUKE” on, then why does NO ONE ELSE in the show remember Felicity’s actions from when she went back in time?!  Why is Noel alive and getting married instead of dead from the fire in the administration building?  (That’s another problem!  When Felicity goes back in time, Noel dies in the fire that he survived the first time around.  I have no idea how this could have happened because the FIRST time the fire happened, Felicity was in the building, and Noel spent an inordinate amount of time trying to get her out of an art room that was surrounded by flames.  One would have to assume that if Felicity was not in the building the second time the fire happened, Noel would have been able to escape successfully, and even faster than the first time, because he didn’t have Felicity slowing him down!)  Abrams explains that they wanted Elena to be alive in the final episode to show that Felicity had not simply dreamed her time-traveling experience, but considering the other successful spells Meghan had done on the show, I don’t think they needed to do this to prove that it was real.  Furthermore, when Felicity woke up, Ben said the same exact apology to her that he had in the past, which I think also demonstrated that Felicity had not dreamed it.  Including Elena just made the whole issue of time travel more confusing than it needed to be and highlighted how problematic it was.  Very annoying.

 

Perhaps the best way to watch “Felicity,” then, is to do something my sister used to do when she would watch the movie Little Women: when you get to the graduation episode, stop watching, turn off the DVD, and imagine a different ending than the one provided for you.  (My sister would pretend that Jo actually married Laurie.)

 

Ok, so now that I have laid out how upset I am about the ending of such a great show, I would now like to provide a look into what I would like to call The Felicity Conspiracy.  It’s not really a conspiracy (I don’t think…), but I find it very, very odd that so many of the actors on this show went on to work together on other projects.  The most noticeable link is between “Felicity” and the show “Scrubs.”  I’m sure this has been pointed out elsewhere, but as I mentioned before, I’m behind the times.  Anyway, on “Felicity,” the character of Noel Crane is played by Scott Foley, who later goes on to play Elliot’s boyfriend Sean on “Scrubs.”  On “Felicity,” Noel dated Ruby, played by Amy Smart, who had the role of Jamie Moyer on “Scrubs.”  Ben’s dad on “Felicity” was played by John Ritter, who also played J.D.’s dad on “Scrubs.”  Donald Faison played both the undead Elena’s boyfriend on “Felicity” and Turk on “Scrubs.”  Odd, I know.  There is one other connection that I have found, this time with the show “House M.D.”  Lisa Edelstein plays Dr. Cuddy on this OTHER show about doctors (weird), but on “Felicity” Edelstein was Lauren, the recovering alcoholic Ben impregnated.  The other actor from “Felicity” seen on “House” was Rob Benedict; on “Felicity” he was Richard Code and on “House” he was Dr. Jaime Conway, an inspector visiting the hospital.  What can this possibly mean??  Can we assume that Felicity and Ben were not the only ones who went on to become doctors, but Tracy, Lauren, and Richard also chose this profession?  I wonder if sometimes they would all just sit around on set and talk about their time on “Felicity.”  I bet they did.  And I bet they were sad about the way the show ended.  Stupid J.J. Abrams…

Katie Refuses to Eat Her Meat

I have been a vegetarian for a little over three years now, and I love it.  I know it’s not for everyone.  I have friends who have tried it and told me that it made them get sick more often or feel like they had no energy, but for me the exact opposite has been true.  The health benefits that I have noticed have been weight loss (and not from lack of finding things to eat!), a significant decrease in the number of colds I get each year (I know it sounds weird, but my diet was the only thing I changed, and I went from getting a cold about once a month to having a cold once a year), and I definitely have never felt weaker as a result of not eating meat.  I think some people might believe that they are supposed to feel less energetic as a vegetarian because there is a chance that you would be consuming less protein, but I feel like perhaps this emphasis on protein stems not from a need of protein, but from the popularity of low carb diets in recent years.  I’m not arguing that protein isn’t important, but on a vegetarian diet, you are perfectly able to get the recommended daily protein intake. (Or, 10-15% of your daily caloric intake; for me, a 5’2 female, I should have between 22.5g and 40g of protein per day—I could get this from two servings (1 serving=1/6 cup) of chickpeas and be done with it.  Or, if I weren’t a vegetarian, I could go way over my protein needs in one sitting by having a double whopper with cheese from Burger King—56g of protein!  That’s 16g more than I need per day!  You can calculate how many grams of protein you should be getting daily here.)  Now, I am certainly not trying to pretend like I am a doctor or a dietitian or even understand everything that goes into configuring a healthy diet, but there are some indications that Americans eat way more protein per day than they need to, and that having a diet high in protein causes more health problems than a diet low in protein.  Ok, I’m going to let this point go and just say, Dad, please start eating carbs again!

 

Hopefully my first paragraph hasn’t incited the wrath of my non-vegetarian readers.  I will reiterate: I know that vegetarianism isn’t for everyone, and I know that I can’t force people to become vegetarians (even though vegetarians have more fun…ok, I’ll stop preaching).

 

When I tell people that I am a vegetarian, their reaction has become quite predictable.  First, they will ask me how long I have been a vegetarian and what made me become one. (3 years and I don’t know, I like animals too much?  My real answer involves Disney cartoons and makes me feel like a lunatic, so I try not to share it when I’m asked.)  Second, they will inform me that they themselves “really don’t eat that much meat.”  It does not matter who I tell, this is always what they say in reply.  So I have to wonder, why do they feel the need to tell me that??  Do they have a guilty conscience?  Does my vegetarianism strike them as something they should be doing but can’t be bothered with, like how I feel about recycling? (I know, I’m a horrible person, and I’m killing the earth.  But I really don’t use that many plastic bottles…)  Do they actually think they don’t eat much meat?  But if everyone tells me this…who is eating the meat??  Someone must be!

 

I think that the only way you can realize how much meat you eat on a daily basis is to give it up for at least a couple of days.  Then you begin to see that yes, actually that chicken on top of your salad came from an animal; no, you cannot put lunchmeat on that sandwich if you are a vegetarian; and perhaps you should rethink topping that spaghetti with meat sauce or adding pepperoni to your pizza.  In fact, in your typical restaurant chain, such as Applebee’s or Chili’s, there is very little that a vegetarian can eat as-is.  Most salads—menu items one would think would be vegetarian-safe—are topped with chicken, bacon, turkey, or sometimes steak; soups are made with chicken or beef broth; refried beans have been cooked with lard.  Even the nachos at Chili’s, which you would think are perfectly acceptable for a vegetarian, are topped with “queso with a hint of seasoned beef.”  In addition, there are foods that would seem to be vegetarian, but on closer look are found to contain meat products.  For instance, Worcestershire sauce and some Caesar salad dressings are made with anchovies.

 

I decided to write this post about vegetarianism because one of the blogs I read—Jolinda’s Vegetarian Food Blog from about.com—had a recent article on “Spam vs. Tofu.” In it, the point is made that as a result of how bad our economy is at the moment, many Americans are turning to Spam for a cheap source of protein.  Ms. Hackett compares the prices and nutritional information of Spam to tofu, concluding that tofu is cheaper ($2.59 or less for 12-14oz tofu, $2.62 for 12oz Spam) and has nearly as many grams of protein as Spam (6g in tofu, 7g in Spam) but with much less fat (4g in tofu, 15g in Spam).  Having never eaten Spam, even in my non-vegetarian days, I cannot say anything about its taste, but I do know that many people do not like the taste (or lack thereof) of tofu, a point that seems valid when comparing these two products.  Obviously the readers of a vegetarian food blog most likely would never even consider buying Spam and probably enjoy tofu on a regular basis, so there might not be a point in the whole Spam vs. tofu argument beyond a good pat on the back for all the tofu-eaters out there.  Actually, I rarely eat tofu, and when I do, it is not as a result of buying a block of it to cook up myself, but more like it was an ingredient in the frozen dinner I bought.  I have nothing against tofu (it is tasteless, but you can make it taste like anything, so this doesn’t bother me, and I have no problem with its texture) except the fact that I find it difficult to cook.  When I go to my favorite restaurant in Durham, Chai’s, I always get either the lo mein with tofu or sesame tofu and I love it, but I think I love it because of the way they cook the tofu, a way that I have been unable to replicate, perhaps because I haven’t tried, but still…it seems labor-intensive, and so I leave it alone.

 

Because I doubt that the people who are reading this (I always feel so ashamed talking about my “readers” because I’m pretty sure that it just includes my family members, and maybe not even them) are having to decide between Spam and tofu, I would like to offer some other delightful vegetarian food options that I have discovered over these past three years:

 

-Amy’s:  Anything Amy’s!  This line of frozen meals and soups is amazing and a lifesaver for me when I don’t have time to cook or just don’t feel like it (so…most of the time).  My favorites are the Roasted Vegetable Pizza (vegan/cheese-less, no cholesterol, corn free, kosher—meaning, of course, that there are no vegetable-asses used on this pizza—and, to get back to my earlier point, it has 6g of protein per serving…and it’s delicious!), the Bean & Cheese Burritos, the Cheese Enchiladas, the Macaroni & Cheese, and the Organic Chunky Tomato Bisque.  I’ve heard that the Texas Burger is great, but I haven’t tried it yet (oddly enough).

 

-Morningstar Farms: If you’re looking for something that tastes and looks like meat, I highly recommend Morningstar Farms products.  My favorites are the Grillers Prime Veggie Burgers (17g protein!  Wow!), the Buffalo Wings, the Chik Patties, the Veggie Sausage Patties, and the Veggie Bacon Strips (or, as I like to call them, fake-on…it rhymes with bacon).  Plus, their Veggie Dogs are the only vegetarian hot dogs I’ve had that don’t have a gross, mushy texture.

 

-Mother’s: No, I don’t mean my mother’s!  Although my parents do a great job catering to my vegetarian needs, Mother’s is an all-vegetarian/vegan restaurant in the Hyde Park-area of Austin.  I realize that not everyone is as lucky as I am to live in Austin, but if you’re a vegetarian and you don’t live in Austin, I suggest you move some place that is like Austin, i.e., a big, liberal city with lots of…vegetarians…  Mother’s serves a wide range of cuisines so you can find basically anything done up vegetarian-style.  Their nachos are amazing as are their enchiladas.  I am not a big fan of the barbeque, but that’s simply because it’s Texas rather than Carolina barbeque.  (If anyone knows of a place where I can get vegetarian Carolina barbeque, please tell me!  Immediately!)  Brunch is great, and, yes, they will bring you chips and salsa with your pancakes.  Just another perk of living in Texas!

 

This is hardly an exhaustive list, and I know there are vegetarians out there that probably have many more suggestions on what fun foods to eat.  There are many other great restaurants in Austin that have fabulous vegetarian options (for instance, the vegetarian Reuben at Magnolia Café is awesome) and there are other 100% vegetarian restaurants in the area as well.  But, because I feel like I may have droned on about vegetarianism enough for tonight, I will just leave you with this: Once, when I was eating a Morningstar Farm product in front of my brother-in-law, I remarked that it tasted just like meat, to which he replied something along the lines of why not just eat meat if you want your vegetables to taste like meat.  I think the point is lost in that argument.  (I’m sure he was kidding!)  I would argue instead, why would you eat meat if you can eat something that tastes just like it and is probably better for you?  Oh, but I’m sure that you, dear reader, don’t each that much meat anyway, am I right?

 

 

 

Katie Messes with the Zohan

Disclaimer: This is not really a movie review.  I know I told my mom that I wanted to write movie reviews, but I don’t really know how, so this is just sort of a story about how I went to see a movie.  Okay, read on.

 

A week or so ago, I spent a very odd Saturday morning in Richmond, Virginia with a friend.  We had plans for the evening but weren’t sure what to do until then, so, both of us being unfamiliar with the area, we hopped in the car and drove until we found a nearby shopping center-type area and decided to look around.  First, we went to Barnes & Noble mainly to get something with caffeine in it from their Starbucks.  After browsing books and sipping drinks for a while, we realized that, as recent graduates, neither of us had any money and therefore could not go shopping—the normal activity for women if you have nothing to do and are in a new city—because it would be too much temptation.

 

Our solution was to go to a movie, but we didn’t know where a theater was.  Fortunately for us, the shopping center we were in was really rather large and actually had a theater hidden towards the back.  The next problem would be to figure out which movie we should go to.  Being that it was only 11:00 or so in the morning, even our matinee options were limited, and we ended up buying two tickets to the 11:45 showing of You Don’t Mess with the Zohan written by and starring Adam Sandler. 

 

On a side note, we had a funny little episode prior to going into the movie in which my friend and I determined that we had come unprepared for the chilliness of the theater, so as we got ready to hand our tickets to the high-school-aged boy working at the booth, we decided to go buy sweatshirts from the nearby Target—seriously, it was a big shopping center—and then return them when we got out of the movie, thereby shopping without spending money!  Perfect!  As we discussed this plan with each other and then turned to go to Target, the high school boy goes “Y’all are kidding, right!”  It became our saying for the day.  I think for him we signified everything that was wrong with girls: how cold we get, how much we enjoy shopping, how ridiculous some of what we do might seem…  But we weren’t kidding, and when we got back, another boy was working the booth, but apparently our actions had seemed so absurd to the first boy that he had told the new boy about us because when we gave him our tickets, he said, “Were you the ones that went to buy sweatshirts?”  Yes, indeed we were, and we watched that movie in comfort!

 

Zohan is pretty much your typical Adam Sandler movie (meaning, of course, that Rob Schneider has a role).  In it, Sandler plays a Mossad agent (uh, I totally wikipedia-ed that.  Apparently, a Mossad agent is “the national intelligence agency of the State of Israel”), a killing machine with dreams of moving to America to work as a circa 1986 Paul Mitchell hairstylist.  Once Zohan fakes his death to move to New York, he ends up working at a hair salon building up a good reputation but giving really ridiculous haircuts and romancing his elderly patrons until he falls in love with his boss.  In the end, Zohan has to face his violent past in order to embrace his future as a peaceful hair stylist.  (I realize how absurd that last sentence sounds, but I don’t know how else to explain it.)  It’s a normal movie plot; the only difference really is that its humor is based largely on what I can only assume are Middle Eastern stereotypes.  I say “assume” because I really wasn’t that familiar with some of the stereotypes—for instance, people from the Middle East love hackey sack and Mariah Carey.  A large part of the jokes include what I now refer to as “hummus humor”: hummus is used as toothpaste, hummus fired from a hose puts out a fire, everything you can think of is dipped in hummus, and hummus is even added to coffee.  It really makes you want to never eat hummus again.  If I worked at the Alamo Drafthouse—my favorite movie theaters ever, see previous post—I would have suggested that we serve lots of hummus-related things just because of the way it would tie into the movie.  They already have falafel and hummus on the menu, so it wouldn’t have been that much of a stretch to pull it off, I’m sure.

 

All in all, Zohan was a fun movie to see on a Saturday afternoon when I had nothing better to do and needed to get out of the heat.  If you decide to go see it, there are definitely parts that you will find funny.  Keep an eye out for Dave Matthews; my friend and I both turned to each other at the end of it and said “Was that Dave Matthews??”  His role was a little unusual, considering what I think of when I think of Dave Matthews.  Not that I normally think of Dave Matthews.  But if I did…  Also, try and sit near a few adolescent males.  I find that their laughing at the ENTIRE movie helps me get in the mood to laugh at least a few times.

Katie Speaks

I’m officially being pestered to start writing on this blog.  I’ve been reluctant to do so for several reasons: 1. my sister and brother-in-law—the pesterers—are much better writers than I am, so if anyone happens to read all of our blogs in a row, mine will just look silly; 2. I have always thought blogs sort of made the person who was blogging look like they thought their life was so important/interesting that others would want to read about it (maybe I’m just saying this so you’ll know that I realize how boring my life is); 3. I have no idea what to write about.  Should this blog have a theme?  For instance, should I stick with what I (supposedly) know and write about art?  Or should I try to do some sort of diary thing and let the world know just how many venti unsweetened black iced teas from Starbucks I drink in a week (because that’s about all I do these days)?  Or should I try to offer up some humorous critique of pop culture or the world around us or what have you?  Or should I go the route of my sister and give scintillating details about the daily life of my breasts?  (Sorry, Rainey.)

 

Since I don’t really know yet what I’m doing with this blog, for this entry I have decided to simply discuss Things On My Mind, specifically: Austin, Texas.  Austin is a city I have called home for two years now, and, I have to say, I love this place.  If you have ever met someone who lived in or even simply visited Austin, this won’t come as much of a surprise.  Countless people told me before I moved here that I would love it, that it was a great place to live, especially if you are a young person.  And they are right.  Austin has many sights, experiences, and activities to offer.  For some odd reason, though, I have decided to leave this city and move to Boston—a town whose similarities to Austin apparently extend beyond the fact that their names rhyme, because I am told by many who have visited Boston—that’s right, I haven’t been…unless you count a trip from when I was really little and I don’t remember anything about—that it is also “a great place for young people.”

 

Right now, my excitement about Boston is in the realm of “ooh winter…what’s that like again?” and dreaming about heavy-weight-but-chic-looking coats and boots (dreams that don’t make much sense considering my extreme lack of funds with no job prospects on the horizon)…Saying all of this, I would like to offer my own personal list of the pros and cons of living in Austin.  Perhaps it will come in handy in the future if I ever have to decide whether I want to move back.  Or, perhaps it will convince a reader or two out there—do I have any?—to move to lovely Austin.  So, without further ado, here is Katie Napkins’s Top 5 Likes and Dislikes for Austin, Texas:

 

Likes

1. Alamo Drafthouse: Really I should just write an entire entry on this fabulous chain of movie theaters because it epitomizes my own personal heaven on earth.  Seriously…it has the best milkshakes I have ever tasted (including a Guinness milkshake), it has all kinds of fun special programs, and instead of watching those inane Coke-sponsored quizzes asking who said something almost funny on the set of what movie while you’re waiting for the previews to start, the Alamo Drafthouse shows hilarious clips that relate to your feature presentation dug up from some vault that I wish I could visit (for instance: when I saw The Pursuit of Happyness with Will Smith, they showed episodes of The Fresh Prince…ok, probably not in a vault…and when I saw Breakfast at Tiffany’s, they showed old army or marine films on how to be polite when dealing with ladies). 

2.  Whole Foods: Austin is the birthplace of Whole Foods, and it boasts a monster-sized version of the grocery store with a fabulous produce section, mini-restaurants throughout in a range of cuisines, a smoothie bar, many buffet bars, and a beer alley.  Some people prefer Central Market—another grocery store with emphasis on organic and local food—but I am a Whole Foods girl.

3. Tex Mex: Ok, you may have noticed a theme.  I like food.  But, honestly, the Tex Mex food here is unbelievable.  You have never really had Mexcian food until you’ve eaten it in Texas (or probably some other border state.  Or, you know…Mexico…).  Pretty much anywhere you go is going to have some Mexcian food—and expect complimentary chips and salsa everywhere…even if you’re there for breakfast.

4. Town Lake Hike & Bike Trail: Situated around Town Lake (obviously, I suppose), this is my absolute favorite place to go for a run.  There are usually tons of people out walking, running, riding bikes, and about 75% or more I would say have dogs and/or babies with them.  So you can people watch while getting exercise!  And I could say something about how running around water makes you feel cooler in the Texas heat, but it would be a lie.  Nothing makes you feel cooler except actually being cooler.  Hmm…

5. The “Weird”-ness: Ok, I couldn’t really think of what to call this—but weirdness fits considering the slogan “Keep Austin Weird.”  What I mean by this is the liberal, laidback flow of the city as well as the fun areas that abound and have a truly Austin flavor, specifically South Congress, 6^th Street, maybe some areas around campus like Hyde Park, and, I would like to think, my own area on South Lamar.  Also, because the weirdness of Austin encompasses both hippies and hipsters, there is great vegetarian food everywhere as well as great music and music venues.

 

Dislikes

1. The heat: It’s really, really hot.  And I’m not even saying this because it’s June and especially hot.  Or maybe I am.  But it’s really, really hot.  I don’t think I was made for this kind of heat.  I’m pretty sure I’m the only girl that sweats this much.

2. The traffic: People have no idea how to drive in Austin.  I have two theories about this: 1. people don’t actually have jobs in Austin, or, if they do, they are so laidback that they don’t care when they get anywhere; 2. everyone in Austin has moved here from some tiny farm town in Texas and they are used to driving on unpaved roads and therefore not aware that they can drive faster than 30 mph when they are on actual roads in a city.  To make things worse (for me, at least, and really, who else matters for this blog??), my air conditioning is broken for the second time already this summer…so the heat and the traffic combined make my life a living hell for the 30+ minutes it takes me to go the 7 miles from work to home (and that’s when traffic is light!).

3. Allergies: Austin is the second worst city in the United States for allergens.  Or something like that.  I swear, I heard it on NPR.  But I can’t remember what the first city was.  Anyway, instead of only taking claritin for like a month or so like I did when I was living in NC, I now have to take it every day.

4. The undergrads: Ok, I don’t really care about how many undergrads there are, but I can’t think of five things that are bad about Austin, so I’ll just say that when the undergrads come to town in August, traffic is awful.  More awful than usual.  And sometimes they are annoying.  But usually I don’t care because I try to avoid the drag (the area of Guadalupe near campus with all these shops and stuff that just SCREAMS college.  For instance, there’s an Urban Outfitters) and other areas where they might be in hordes.

5. Memories: Not all of my memories of Austin are bad, but I’ve had some upsetting break-ups in the past year and so obviously the memories that were once happy have become sort of sour.  And you never know when one is going to creep up on you.  For instance, you’ll be driving down the road and suddenly you see the corner where you both stood waiting for the light to change after you had been to the Vespa store and he had told you that if he was going to get a Vespa, it would have to be one that you could ride on, too.  Because that’s just how much you meant to him (why did I remember that??).  Or, you’ll think about going to a restaurant and then realize that the last time you were there was with him and now you HAVE to go back just so that you won’t be able to say that any more.  You know, erase that moment, sort of.  Does this sound too depressing?  But the upside is, I’m moving to Boston, a clean slate, in a way.  I can date someone new, get dumped, and then have another city tarnished because of sad memories.  OR, I could just not date anyone and be happy for the rest of my life!  Perhaps in the next entry I should tell you the method I have developed for getting over break-ups!  (You can tell it’s worked, can’t you?  But no, seriously, it’s fool-proof and you’ll love it.  Even if you’re happily married.  Then you can just read it and say, “Oh, that’s what it’s like to have to get over someone.  I had forgotten.  I am so happily married.”)

 

I hope you have enjoyed.  Sorry this one was so long.  I know if I were you I would have quit reading ages ago!