Monday, October 31, 2011

Just Do It Like the Picture, OK? (Bitchy Vegetarian Girlfriend)

It’s haircut time!  Oh, endless misery and woe…

What I want is a 1990s-style graduated bob.  Short in back, long in front, with a good, strong angle.  And I want the bottom third of the bob layered.  No bangs, no fringe, and yes, I part it on the left.  It was that way when I came in here, it’ll be that way when I walk out.

What I get, more often than not – despite proper diligence and crafty refocusing techniques – is a straight-all-the-way-round bob, nothing fancy, no frills.  And I’m not really looking for frills; I just want the back short.  There needs to be some hott clipper-on-neck axxxtion or I’m not getting my ass out of the chair.  The law has been laid.  Down.

Having to argue industriously for a haircut is insane.  Especially when photos are involved: I mean, I bring in photos of myself, in the cut that I want.  Look, proof!  I have had this cut before; I can indeed “pull it off.”  I’m paying a (hopefully) highly trained professional to cater to my whims and to have them question my wants/needs/preferences is throat punchingly insulting, especially when it’s really nothing more than a simple trim. I’m not asking for a striking and stunning re-do; I’m not asking to get a foot taken off and the remnants dyed glow-in-the-dark; I’m asking for a cleaning up of what I already have, thank you very much.

Nope, I don’t want to add volume.  Nope, I’ve not thought about getting a perm.  Yes, remember, I part my hair on the left.  The left.  My left.  YES, I’VE HAD THE CUT BEFORE, IT WAS CALLED THE ‘90S.  YES, IVE HAD THIS CUT BEFORE, OH LOOK, I HAVE IT NOW.  Why is it so hard? Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?

I’ve even been told things like “it’s salon policy not to go that short on women.”  WHAT?!  If I want a fucking buzz cut, I will get it because I’m paying you to give me one.  Also, since when is one inch past chin-length considered short?

Luckily, I’ve had a great stylist for the past couple of years, so I don’t have to deal with new stylist bullshittery very often, but there are times when I’m out of town or she’s out of town or schedules don’t quite meet up or, you know, whatever, and I have to try to find someone who will do my bidding.  It’s hard.  Makes me bitchy.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Eat Like a Goth (Bitchy Vegetarian Girlfriend)

My acupuncturist and I talk about food a lot. She’s kind of a foodie, as well as a Chinese herbalist, and we share the belief that what one eats – and doesn’t eat - plays a large part in a person’s well being. On a recent visit, she gave me a stack of stuff to read about various things I can do to augment the treatments she is doing; a lot of them are dietary based. Wading through all of the info was a bit mind-bending, there was a lot of stuff jam-packed into a few paragraphs, and it’s written for an audience of TCM practitioners, not curious patients, so admittedly, good chunks of it went over my head. But the lists of foods to be favored and those to be avoided, those I got down pat. And the gist of it is – eat like a goth.

I can do this!

The Eat Me list was full of black beans, kidney beans, black sesame seeds, beets, molasses, cherries, figs, black lentils, rhubarb, black garlic, pomegranates, roasted barley, red onions, wild rice, strawberries… do you see the theme here? It’s all red and black! There were a few other things on there, too, like dark leafy greens and some purple stuff, but those are all shadowy, gloomy, and doomy-lookin’, too. Also, my favorite dark and stormy seasonings are on the good list – ginger, garlic, turmeric, cardamom, black pepper, and maple syrup. Small amounts of beef and chicken, specifically black chicken, were also suggested, but I think I will be skipping those. If I had a black chicken, it’d be running free around my apartment, scaring the squirrels on the patio, terrorizing the cats, and answering to the name of Mrs. Pendergrass.

Naturally, my first thoughts were of striped, stacked, and abstract dinnertime creations that would make Lydia Deetz proud. I’m picturing skulls made of molded black and red rices (those bone chillers ice cube trays will come in handy for this) on a bed of dark curly kale. And grilled kabocha squash with a ginger maple glaze landscaped with Truffula Trees of purple and orange cauliflower. Bloodshot-eyed beets stuffed with wild rice and lemon sauce. And roast figs floating in a balsamic/port reduction like so many shipwrecks in the dark North Sea...

Now all I need is a decent set of dinnerware.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Everyday I Hate Rachel Ray: Autumn Edition (Bitchy Vegetarian Girlfriend)

Autumn has come, and now our thoughts turn towards cocooning up and settling in for the long, dark winter.  Words like warmth and comfort top the list of Needful Things.  The October edition of Everyday With Rachel Ray is out in all its autumnal glory -- there are Halloweeny pumpkins and spiders galore and pages are glowing with jewel shades of orange, orange, and more orange.  In this issue, she reminds us that sexism remains rampant in the kitchen, you can never go wrong with lowest-common-denominator flavors (although you really can go wrong with candied tomatoes), and all Italian food contains pasta.

The cheerfulness!  It burns.

I’m just gonna go down the glaring list of wrongnesses:

Page 16: Schools are suffering huge budget cuts. The cost of putting yakitori chicken in Chinese take-out boxes to make it “more fun” for schoolchildren is probably enough to ensure a few books won’t make it onto library shelves. Is this really our priority?

Also, regarding the Mexi Mac – herbs change the flavor of a dish?  Huh?  You don't say.

Page 23: It’s not a Panini, it’s a grilled cheese sandwich with apples.  Panini are made with ciabatta or other crusty, loafed breads and warmed in a heated press.  Your sandwiches are made with sliced white bread and cooked on a skillet.  The ingredients all look pretty tasty, but I’ll stand on the opinion that misnomers don’t taste very good.

Page 35: It's not a PB&J if you use cashew butter.  The P stands for peanut.

Page 37: Beer that incorporates the flavors of food?  It’s called “infused.” Look it up.

Page 40: Black food is nothing new. I mean, it’s great for Halloween recipes and all, and it does create a nifty visual wallop, but I remember getting squid ink-dyed pasta in Fargo, ND in the 1980s.  Fargo.  North Dakota. 1980s.

Page 58: Considering a lot of the recipes and ideas in this magazine are cost-conscious, it seems odd to suggest shelling out $10+ for a can of chalkboard paint to paint a pumpkin that will just rot in a few weeks anyway. If the decoration was mandatory and cost was really an issue, just paint the damn thing black with acrylic paint and draw on it with a paint pen. Half the price. Or spray chalkboard paint on a plastic pumpkin and keep it forever. You are welcome.

Page 67: I read your so-called rules for touch football at least six times.  Still don’t understand.

Page 84: If you are spending 56 cents on a tablespoon of thyme, you clearly have no idea how the bulk spice aisle works.

Page 100: "A big trend in food is big flavor and bold, hearty meals" - yeah, it's called winter eating.  Ray goes on to talk about how it’s called “guy food” but girls can eat it too, especially her, because she runs four miles a day.  In the magazine's introduction, Ray even says "I already eat like a man." I. Can’t. Even. Wrap.  My. Head. Around. The. Wrongness. Sexism aside, it makes me wonder; since when is cooking food that tastes good a trendy and novel idea? I thought that was the whole point.

Page 138: Don’t get me wrong, I like lasagna. I love lasagna. I love lasagna so much I want to marry it. But I won’t ... not because it’s an intimate object, but because it’s a beautiful, creamy, expensive whore. Lasagna is warm and comforting, an occasion to forget yourself and totally and completely sink into.  However, lasagna, also like whores, should never ever, ever be photographed in an extreme close-up.   You want to appreciate the larger picture, here, to anticipate what lies within.  Food photographers take note.

Also, who puts candy corn in Chex Mix?  Honestly.