Not A Dollarshort

Eat Me!

Yesterday, while dishing out our lunch — Annie's Alfredo, a "classier," planet-loving version of macaroni and cheese -- I caught myself doing one of my compulsive anthropomorphizing behaviors.

With two bowls in hand, I began to walk upstairs when I realized that a lone shell was left on the wooden spoon. I thought to ignore the shell -- after all it was just a piece of pasta, an inanimate object.

But that didn't work.

I went back to the sink and made sure that the cheese-covered shell went into one of our bowls. My reason? Well, I didn't want its "life" to be in vain. It had a purpose; it was meant to be eaten.

Why should I deny it its place in the noble cause.

Ever since I was a child, I have viewed my food as little warriors and little friends. Eating cheerios was always a daunting task. There could never be a left-over "O" — not just because of my desire not to waste, but also because I didn't want it to feel left out.

Cheerio: Hey Mena, don't miss me!

Cheerio2: I'm over here! Don't forget me!

Me: Okay, okay I'll get to you all.

Cheerio Elder: Mena, our purpose in life is to be part of your healthy breakfast.

Me: Thanks, guys!

Making friends with food is probably not the healthiest of practices.

What bothers me most is not that I have such an intimate relationship with cereal, but rather that I can anthropomorphize grain yet I can not force myself to become a vegetarian.

Why do I force myself to see the soul of a Corn Pop yet can not refrain from eating garlic sesame chicken?

The truth is that I love meat a bit too much.

And though I can barely look at a Golden Retriever without crying out of pure love for animals, I can not be strong enough to make a distinction between the cute animals and the barnyard sort.

I think it's just a matter of willpower. I mean, I gave up veal and lamb. Why don't I just extend the ban on their elders?

I'm just a weak person, I guess.

Encryption is your friend.

Over at Perl.com, you can find the first installment of a three-part article on asymmetric cryptography that Ben co-authored with Vipul Ved Prakash.

Undeclared.

Undeclared premieres tonight on Fox at 8:30/7:30 Central.

The creator of Undeclared, Judd Apatow, was also the executive producer of Freaks and Geeks. If you never caught Freaks and Geeks, I hold you personally responsible for show's demise.

Well, not really.

We certainly loved Freaks and Geeks, though. So much so that we attended the William S. Paley Television Festival in Los Angeles.

While I can't be sure that I'll love Undeclared, there was one little detail in a preview clip that had me laughing aloud:

One of the characters is wearing a SNOOD t-shirt!

Let me just say that during my days in college, SNOOD wasn't just a game. It was a way of life.

Now remember to watch Undeclared.

Too cool for words.

The Rosetta Project

As part of the effort to secure this critical legacy of linguistic diversity, The Long Now Foundation is working to develop a contemporary version of the historic Rosetta Stone...The resulting Rosetta archive will be publicly available in three different media: an extreme longevity [2,000 years!] nickel disk; a single volume monumental reference book; and through this growing online database. The extreme longevity disk will be mounted in a spherical container (see photo on right) and our plans are to globally distribute around 10,000 of these to individuals, institutions and others who care to keep one.

User contributions are requested to expand the public collection of language descriptions, vernacular texts, analytic materials and audio files.

This is an amazing project.

Do-gooding done bad.

There's a This American Life show on do-gooders -- "stories of people trying to do good and why they often fail and why they occasionally succeed."

I was reminded the other day of one tiny attempt to make the Christmas season of one underprivileged child brighter.

You know those gift trees that often pop up in book stores and malls during the holiday season? The trees that have little tags on them with words like "Sam, age 5, toy truck" handwritten on them? Usually the children are part of financially-strapped families. A lot of times, they are at-risk youth. Basically, you're supposed to buy the present on the card and return it to a drop-off location.

Well, one year there was this sort of tree in my college cafeteria. Ben and decided to each pull a tag and participate in the gift-giving. The tag I picked said: Mario, age 8, Power Rangers Sweatshirt (Size 12-14) .

I thought, easy enough.

We first went to Mervyn's and strolled around the boy's section. While there were quite a few sports and famous brand sweatshirts, not a Power Ranger was to be seen.

We asked a clerk and she look confused. She told us to try Kids R Us. The nearest store was an hour away.

Me: Aren't Power Rangers popular?

Ben: Yeah, maybe like three years ago.

Me: Size 12-14. That's pretty big. That's a pre-teen size, isn't it.

Ben: Seems like it.

Me: So, basically we've got to find an almost adult-size sweatshirt with a Power Ranger on it. Oh, and Power Rangers haven't been popular for a couple of years.

So I called Kids R Us:

Me: Hello, do you carry Power Ranger sweatshirts?

Clerk: Let me check.

Me: (please, please, please)

Clerk: Hello? Yeah we carry some.

Me: Oh great, would you have size 12-14?

Clerk: (pause) M'am, that's pretty large. These are for little kids.

Me: Okay, thanks.

I called Sears, Macy's, JCPenny, Target -- every bay area store imaginable. After a couple of days I started to lose hope.

Me: Ben, what am I going to do?

Ben: Why don't you put the card back on the tree?

Me: No! That's so wrong. Maybe I can make him a Power Ranger sweatshirt.

Ben: Come on, that's pathetic. Let's just go to store and get him another sort of sweatshirt.

We went back to Mervyn's and looked around for a good substitution. I didn't want to pick a team sweatshirt since I didn't know what sports or teams he liked. And, I couldn't get a famous brand sweatshirt since the instructions told us to avoid any brands that were likely to cause a disturbance at school. Oh, and we were given a list of about ten colors to avoid because of their gang significance.

So what did I end up getting this kid?

A size 12-14, black sweatshirt. The most boring present any child could possibly receive. For days, I picture this kid opening up his present and staring at blandness in a box. "Where's the Power Ranger?" he would ask. His parents, of course, would just shake their heads.

I seem to remember buying the kid a toothbrush.

The toothbrush had to be a specific brand as well. So, the kid got an Oral-B and a black sweatshirt.

Merry Christmas.

The Irresponsible Media.

This outraged me last week -- mainly because it was just another example of the press going overboard and reporting fear without reporting facts. Of course, being naive, I believed that there must have been just a little truth in the reporting.

"Those people must have been doing something suspicious. You don't just get pulled off a plane for being non-white? Do you?," I thought.

Well, it turns out you do.

Rub my belly, watch me smile.

Paul inspired Tim who inspired me to put up three pictures of crazy Annie lying on her back.

I'll take part in any sort of meme that unites cats and dogs in their lovable and huggable silliness.

Fabric of our lives.

Start posting again. Start small.

Well, we're in a different sort of world now. Or, at least we realize it is a different world. And, I don't think I'm going to wear the dress again. Not just because I don't want to be perceived as some weirdo that is really into the military and war, but because it stands as a good memento of a really care-free night that seems a hundred years ago.

So, I updated Sew Wrong with probably the least domestic-goodness sort of post for an odd sort of dress, The Revolt Dress.

Speechless.

I'm still here.

I just don't know what to write. I don't want to write about the attack. I don't want to write about politics.

But I'm not ready to write about my life. Or, the silly little things that used to jump around my mind.

Oh, well.

I've been saying that a lot lately.

Please bear with me.

Hello Friend.

The Hoopla500: "Afghan Kebab House II": "Hello friend!"