You can't just leave cream cheese in a room this hot

This week is spring break and I'm spending it at home.

Yesterday I road tripped to Northampton with Juliette and Elizabeth, also known as the sensational electronic-kazoo-pop duo Conservative Preservatives. This adventure happened to fall on St. Patrick's day and also coincided with Fish Fry Eve:


As the only license-holding member of the bunch, the drive was long and arduous but my spirits were lifted by the mix cd series "You Can't Just Leave Cream Cheese in a Room This Hot" Parts I, II and III (complements of Juliette) and the Dr. Dog album Shame, Shame (complements of Dr. Dog).

Once we arrived and parked in the historic Northampton parking area, I was reminded that this was home to one of my favorite elderly-people-choruses. I was excited at the possibility of encountering the members but, given their high turnover rate and my inability to tell old people apart, its hard to say for sure if this hope was or wasn't realized:


First we sat down for our annual St. Patrick's day dunchfest at a restaurant called Sylvester's where, per tradition, we all ordered Smithie's Favorite. Though we never really knew Smithie himself, we sure do appreciate his opinions regarding the causal roots of cholera (peppers, alcohol and tea) and his unique take on the grilled cheese sangwich:


Afterward we wandered around town, looking for ponchos and pet fish. Though unsuccessful on both accounts, it was a crazy ride. We also tried to find the Smith College Botanic Garden to no avail. We did, however, find this cream cheese:


We found a bus stop that also served as a portal to an alternate dimension. This is the moment when Juliette and Elizabeth crossed over:


As you can tell from these kids' facial expressions, things weren't so great on the other side:


Back in this version of the universe, we got coffee at a coffee place that was named after the seating apparatus pictured below. The yellow couch was really quite nice but we weren't allowed to sit on it:


Fortified with caffeine, we felt ready to undertake the trek home. Except for one instance in which the cops eyed me suspiciously for taking shots of diet coke while operating a vehicle on the Mass Pike, it was smooth sailing.

That night I went into Boston and hung out with my friends Izzy and Jasmine. We enjoyed a cordial celebration of St. Patrick with some members of the B.U. Greek system. Though their denials of hazing practices seemed suspiciously vehement, they (actually) held the virtue of cleanliness in great esteem (a unique and impressive fraternary quality).

It was really nice to be home from my domestic studies for a while. I got to see familiar people, visit familiar places, and partake in familiar traditions. It was also strange though---I realized that the foreign culture of St. Paul feels more & more familiar while the familiar culture of my home is starting to feel more foreign! But I suppose that may be what I was hoping for all along when I decided to study domestic...

ogres, ice hockey, & wieners

I attended an ice hockey game for the first time ever. Ice hockey is really popular around here, so I was glad to have the opportunity to see a game in real life. Adrienne, Jamila and I went to support our host-mom, Zoe, who plays for Macalester's team (they compete in the elite minnesotan-middle-aged-mom league). We made signs and did the three-person wave and shouted cheers derived from the music of Die Antwoord and Wiz Khalifa.



Zoe did a kick-ass job (should kick ass have a hyphen or no? discuss in the comments section below!). She was really good at battling for the puck during the puck-battles, leading her team to victory.

During the drive home Zoe instigated a drag-race. Fortunately her mad skills on the ice don't carry over to the streets. We won (WHATTUP MOM).

The next night we went to eat at a classic establishment in Minneapolis called The Wienery. From what I gather, it's like the bastard son of a winery and a hot-dog stand. I bet it has one foot in both worlds but, considered trashy by the wineries and uppity by hot-dog stands, is tragically accepted by neither. From what I saw it sure seemed like it had endured a tough but character-building childhood. Inside the wienery:



I ordered a picnic tofu-dog. Menus overwhelm me, so this decision was based more on the fact that I like picnics than on the fact that it involved sauerkraut and baked beans. It looked as janky as it sounded but tasted all kinds of delicious:



Jamila and I got into a heated debate over condiment preferences:



Soon after, Dre got really cold:



In other news, My friend Evan turned twenty-one:

Tragedy Strikes, leaving sugar-free cola defamed and ashamed

Recently my roommate Adrienne sent me a link. This link marks an important but unfortunate development in my domestic study journey. It seems that observational science has brought a correlation to light that threatens to devastate the sanctity of one of the key sources of sustenance in the community here: Roundy's Brand Diet Cola.

First, a little background. When I first tried Roundy's Brand Diet Cola I thought it kind of tasted like soda, but it also kind of tasted faintly of turpentine (yes, i have tasted turpentine, dwai). Despite this, I quickly acquired a taste for it, probably because of all the positive experiences I associated it with. it was an impetus for social gatherings, I used it most weekend nights to cleanse my pallet of even worse-tasting beverages, and its ritualistic consumption helped foment the special and unbreakable bonds that I've formed with my roommates. It was a prolific cultural staple. Though I've never been south of the border myself, I imagine that Roundy's Brand Diet Cola is for my house what Yerba Mate is for Argentina.



To get back to the point, the article reported that a study of 2,500 adults over the course of 10 years revealed that those who drank diet soda daily had a 48% higher risk of stroke or heart attack than non-soda-drinkers or regular-soda-drinkers.

http://www.newser.com/story/111738/diet-sodas-dark-side-heart-attacks-strokes.html

The implications of these findings are devastating. Though the experimental group consisted of self-described "daily drinkers," I would wager that they are more like pack-a-week type smokers while we are at the pack-or-two-a-day level. I also doubt that most of these participants were devoutly consuming questionable generic brands. It seems likely that the above-average shadiness of our soda brand compounds our risk. Realizing the gravity of this study, we now find all our happy times past tainted by the notion that they might have helped facilitate our premature demise.

nu shoez

The weather here is insane! Its hard to get used to but I'm trying to adjust. I recently realized that spring is coming and I have no footwear appropriate for temperatures above 0* so I went shopping online for new sneakers. I was intrigued by this charming customer review of a pair of vans:

“One of the best buys I've ever made. After just one day I've gotten at least three comments from girls, hot ones. (And I hold myself at high standers). So if your like girls and skating...GET THESE SHOE...and if you do buy these shoes and you don't skate, you better start. NO ONE LIKES A POSER”

I also liked the shoes, so I ordered them. It was finally warm enough to wear them today so I did. No comments from hot girls, or any girls for that matter, but I don't want to give up on them too quickly. I am really hoping that these shoes will start living up to the hype and that I will be cool soon.

A Day out with the Gang

This Saturday I spent a day out with the gang ("the gang" being my friends Michael, Tony and Evan who are a gang only insofar as they refer to themselves as such and tend to chant cult-like incantations when they want to convince me to do something).

We went to Dinkytown where we ate at Raising Cane's, an establishment that serves only chicken fingers and requisite accoutrements (as well as a dipping sauce so delicious that is rumored to be flavored with crack).



The menu presented a problem for me, as I'd been a vegetarian/vegan/pesca-vegetarian for the last 8 years (aside from occasional nibbles of poultry that were sanctioned by my moral code of meat-eating, which I won't go into at this point, and this one time that I ate sausage by accident). I randomly decided to opt for a new experience over dogmatism, so I had the meal pictured below:



It tasted good and I really enjoyed it. However, the texture of chicken is kind of unfamiliar and disturbing. Plus meat necessarily has an aftertaste of shame and guilt due to my knowledge of factory farms and because afterward I couldn't stop thinking about the word "flesh." (gross.) I probably am not going to eat chicken again any time soon.

We had to pick up some things, so we walked to the Hideaway, which is a great place to pick things up.

On our way back we walked through the U of M campus along scholars walk and stopped to admire the wall of discovery (Tony, our unofficial tour guide, pointed out one particularly admirable development---they invented the processes used to puff wheat and rice, an innovation which paved the way for the puffed-grain breakfast cereals we know and love today). Then we saw this very large statue:



On the ride home, I photographed Michael either right before or after flipping off a biker:



My day out with the gang was full of new experiences and adventure. It is exactly what I was hoping for when I decided to study domestic, and I can't wait for more!

s'just bros icing bros

So I've been sitting around all day watching tv and sleeping. I also went to the Mac health and wellness center this morning, which led to my spending $80 on pharmaceutical products at the St. Paul Corner Drug (I have taken to carrying these products around with me in a brown paper shopping bag, referring to it as my "drug bag," which brings me great joy). This pharmacy reminds me of the local drug store owned by "old man" Mr. Gower that George works at in the movie Its a Wonderful Life.



The SPCD is a really adorable pharmacy that has a soda fountain where they serve malts and coffee (for a nickel!). I kind of want to start hanging out there all the time, I think it might be a good way to make new friends. There is this one old guy named Jerry (Gerry?) who seems to go there a lot and he has a ton of friends--everyone greets him by name when he comes in! I think J/Gerry and I could be buds.


Thanks to all the drugs I bought at the SPCD store, I now feel more like this guy after a rough night of glam rockin'

Today I have also been spending some time thinking about new cultural experiences I've had in St. Paul. One interesting cultural phenomenon that I've observed is calling "Icing." In my experience, being exposed to this tradition also entails being exposed to a great deal of vomiting. This aspect made me somewhat uncomfortable at first, but I'm trying to keep an open mind for my cultural immersion experience. I researched Icing online to see what was the deal. Here is a description from a NYT article:

The premise of the game is simple: hand a friend a sugary Smirnoff Ice malt beverage and he (most participants have been men) has to drink it on one knee, all at once — unless he is carrying a bottle himself, in which case the attacker must drink both bottles of what Mr. Rospos described as a “pretty terrible” drink.

Apparently there was suspicion that Smirnoff Ice started this tradition as a viral marketing campaign but the company denies it. No one knows for sure if the roots of this cultural tradition can be found in a stealthy money-making scheme or in a true organic cultural innovation.

Do you think that we should take the origins of a cultural tradition into account when considering its worth or validity? Can real cultural traditions rise out of attempts at commercial commodification? Share your thoughts in the commments section below!

Sick Day=Blog Day

So I have been planning to hop on the blog bandwagon for some time now. I've been pretty busy, but its 5 AM and I am sick so I figured now is as good a time as any.


I kind of feel like this guy, but a little less cool.


Everyone blogs these days, especially my roommates. Its hard to believe that this is my first blog post ever. My roommate Jamila has a blog about her emotional/social journey instigated by ordering a new pair of spectacles on the internet. My other roommate Adrienne has a blog about a freshman at our college with a cool name.

I started this blog to chronicle my domestic study experiences. Basically, I find myself with a hole in my heart because all of my friends have left me to study in far off lands. I can't go abroad because I have too many classes to take. I miss my friends but I hope that they are having a multiplex of formulative experiences and I am taking my domestic study opportunity to do the same. I hope that this blog will not only allow me to fill my heart-hole but also that it will encourage me to take advantage of the things to do and people to meet that are here in St. Paul, MN. My posts will be about cultural immersion and my adventures and all the new things that I learn and people that I meet.

Presently I am sitting on my couch wheezing and watching Fishing With John. The wheezing part is kind of annoying, but I really like this show. It is very relaxing to watch (obviously--its about fishing!) and also funny. It is from the 90s and features John Lurie, who takes a different famous guest on a fishing expedition for each episode. My favorite part so far is when Tom Waits puts a fish in his pants during the second episode.