Taking Care

Officially in the chapter of life where I consider what's best for me. How obnoxious.

Take Friday. I was tired by 10, but couldn't sleep because of night cramps. Tried to gather some enthusiasm about ancient behavior. It was common in Chicago for me to come home long after Puhg went to sleep. I had my little rituals. Stopping by the Philly Cheesesteak storefront for a large order of seasoned fries or maybe Walgreens for Ben & Jerry's. I'd climb the four flights up, change into sweats, and have my little snack at 1 AM while watching Catfish. Sometimes I'd have work at 8 downtown the next day. Sometimes I'd get up at 6 to grade a few papers before running to the train.

So Friday I was already doomed to be awake. Luckily I had a pint of Netflix & Chilled in the freezer for such an emergency. Then I just had to be logical, didn't I? "Eh, that much sugar this late isn't going to feel so good in the morning, best wrap up in this blanket and drink more water." How dare I?

I was still up at 5 AM. Slightly out of my gourd from lack of sleep and dull pain and too many TikToks when I had the deepest truest craving for McDonald's breakfast. I haven't had McDonald's breakfast since 2015. When they introduced all day McMuffins and I got one for lunch after teaching English 101. I was violently ill later. A hashbrown? Maybe ate one in 2005?

But yesterday, dawn about to creep in, memories of childhood flitting around, I wanted nothing more than a pile of McDonalds. I filled my Postmates cart full. A McGriddle, oj, a macchiato, pancakes, McMuffin, biscuits. Did the butter still have a little print of corn on it, I wondered? Like it did when I was in pre-school and I'd rip the sausage out of the sandwich before mixing the pad with jelly. "I'll try to sleep first," I told myself. Next thing I knew it was 10:30 AM. Puhg already up, worked out, showered, coffeed, ready for his day. I urgently remembered the McDonalds. I googled when breakfast ended. I had half an hour to make it to the drive-thru.

Ah, but would that be wise? A greasy little feast while I still had greasy hair, had yet to move my body? No, no. Time to be responsible again. I sighed and put on my light pink exercise shorts. Cardio for half an hour, brushed teeth, shampooed, shaved, soaped, skin regime. I baked a tin of Trader Joe's biscuits, thinly sliced organic cheddar, fried two eggs in oil, added vegan bacon. Ate the next best thing on the patio.

Italian Birthday

Hoisted our duffels and made our way (regretfully) trainward ho. Goodbye, Cinque. I stopped in the teeny market for a little block of Parmesan and some native sweet bread. Four hour trip to Rome requires snacks.

We had a two hour delay in a quaint station with nothing but a trashy gift shop and a McDonalds. We decided to enjoy a couple lattes and were delighted by the assortment of pastries McDs had. I ate a super flaky, dusted with powdered sugar, ricotta cheese poof. Quite honestly it was the best breakfast I had all trip. If a year ago you would have told me my birthday breakfast would be from Ronald himself I would have probably assumed my life somehow unraveled to disastrous shambles and not that I would actually be very satisfied.

The weather was perfect. Creamy clouds and faint smells of countryside. On the train I planned to read more of A Room with a View, but we ended up in the most serendipitous of cars! Six little seats filled by three couples in their twenties from the US, Austrailia, and India. We spent the entire time asking each other questions about our cultures, comparing, contrasting, commenting on what we'd seen of Italy so far. I still can't get over this really. It seemed almost planned, but it was just the luck of the 19 Mag!

We decided to cab to our hotel in Rome to avoid pickpockets and a transportation headache after a longish trip. It was cheaper than we expected and much appreciated. I opened my window as the new city air whipped in.

For dinner we found a little checked-tablecloths and all pizza place. My main request was to have two gelato for dessert. The night was young. We visited The Pantheon, people watched for hours with gelato number one (chocolate orange) in hand.

We watched a street clown for a bit and headed to Trevi Fountain. Stayed on a bench from early dusk until it was completely lit watching couples kissing and large groups tossing coins behind them.

I chose a delightful lemon gelato two, Bisque made good on his promise for a backrub and we planned our very busy marrow. I reflected on the year as I drifted to sleep.

New Marketing Plan

It has come to my attention that a lot of people's image problems (body, fashion, race) stem from advertising. Skinny models, trendy-looking teens, white families, etc. for all products--not even inherently image ones. Like, hotties are shown next to everything from diamond rings to toilet brushes. It's really just too much. So I have an alternate marketing plan.

I propose that advertisements cannot involve people anymore. Just the product. No people eating the bagels, just a bag of bagels. No people calling on cell phones, just the phone. No emergency dispatchers, just text "emergency dispatcher service." If the advertisement absolutely needs a sentient being, it can use Grimace. You know. The purple blob in tennis shoes from the McDonald's gang? If you must sell cars with people driving them, you can have a couple of Grimaces. If you have got to put the new sweaters on a thing, put them on a Grimace. If you want to use comedy or a voice over, uses Grimaces doing sketch or a Grimace voice.

I think everyone would be much happier. And products would be bought on their legitimate merit instead of a subliminal code about how attractive the actor was. Seriously, name one problem with this plan. Who's with me?

German Quality

Although I thoroughly enjoyed my trip overseas, I don't feel like I got a legit peek at German culture. I was with family--American obvi. Heidelberg (where my dad's base was) and the city we day-tripped to were both pretty touristy. Travel is less and less an immersion these days altogether--hearing Rihanna in stores, international fashion, international food available everywhere, etc. But, if there's one thing I definitely took away and learned from was the high quality of things in Germany.

Not gonna lie, I think it's semi-BA I went to a sketchy high school in Chicago where the norm student dress was pajamas and people spit openly in hallways. But, it's pretty refreshing to be someplace, you know, actually clean. Litter is minimized, the communal stress level seems low, and everything was orderly. Everything had a high quality. Please observe the picture below.



Okay, so that's at a McDonalds.

I KNOW, RIGHT!?

We actually stopped for snack on the road, and we got chocolate cake, and it was legit one of the top five chocolate cakes I've ever eaten. Not to get high-falutin', but that's a big statement coming from me. It made me wonder, why would I ever consume food of low quality again?

On Bridesmaids & Changing Your Mind

People are wiiggin' about Bridesmaids. (Get it? Wiiggin?) I have to admit, I am very interested. I like women. I like comedy. I love women doing comedy. I really love Kristen Wiig.

I like that people are accepting women as naturally funny because of this movie. It doesn't have to be an anomaly anymore. But, this movie was still produced by Judd Apatow. I don't hate or even dislike this guy as much as I probably should. The truth is I laughed a lot at Superbad. Like, a lot.

Muff hates his movies because they all remind us that men spend mucho percent of their time talking about and noticing hot women. Whether it's art imitating life or vice versa, I don't really care. It's something I'd rather not have continue in society, and splicing comedy with an unfavorable male habit tricks everyone into liking it. Or, at least accepting it subliminally.

So, naturally, Jamin suggests Bridesmaids to me because he knows what I said in line one: I am all about women busting into comedy. And I said, "No, thanks." Because I read an interview with Wiig about the process, and there's at least one part of the movie she didn't want in--some scene where all the girls, like, get diarrhea or fall in mud or something. So, that bugs me. I don't really want to contribute to box office sales of a movie that could have been perfectly funny without Mr. Apatow butting in and asking for all the girls to lose all self-respect just for a while. Maybe it's purely because anyone falling in mud and losing face is funny, but it's different having men, who already run comedy, get involved in shtick. I guess you could argue it's sexist to NOT have women do the same stupid stuff men do in movies. There's a point there, but it's balancing on the fine line of...something.

Jamin said, "But Wiig co-produced, and you probably want to support her." Which is true. I do want to support her. I am really involved with how I spend my money, because I really do see it as a vote. I don't personally have a problem with my health because of McDonald's, but I know a lot of this country does, so, if I can, I don't contribute to the problem--even though it doesn't directly affect me. But, that's really just half the battle.

The other half is not exposing yourself to things that you don't support because they do change your mind. It's pretty naive to think we can just enter restaurants we feel fundamentally against and not slowly come to like them better, to watch movies we know will involve themes we don't support and leave with the same pure mindset we had before showtime. Even though I will be a vegetarian forever, when I enter McDonalds, I see the prettiest picture of chicken strips--with a vibrant purple backdrop. Maybe I'll never act on the sudden impulse to eat some, but the thought has been planted, and that makes my ideas on the subject just a little weaker. Just a little cloudier.

Seeing Bridesmaids may be a big step for women in comedy, but it's still women in comedy as a man views them. And even if I know that going in, I'm obviously going to leave subliminally thinking things about myself as a women and a comedian I didn't think before. And, I'm not ready for that.

Recap:
*Our actions are important because we actually give physical support to things. Let's make it stuff we do support.
*Our actions are important because what we do changes our minds whether we recognize that immediately or not.
*The part where McLovin says he almost got "Muhammad" is the funniest ever.