All of a sudden, the internet is only good for Googling IR theory definitions

I am often walking down the street thinking deep thoughts and then thinking, "Dude, I should totally put that on my blog!"

Except that I don't. And do you know why?

Grad school.

I've been in school for three weeks and have read like, 6 books. Maybe 5. Anyway, a LOT. So I haven't been blogging much, or reading many blogs, or really anything blog-y. This is unfortunate.

But I have learned so much! For example: The first week, before class, we read Conoleezza Rice's Foreign Affairs piece on national interest and American realism. I skimmed it and was like, "Yeah, ok, democracy is important, our efforts to democratize make the world better, blah, ok I get it." But now I get it. I read the same article yesterday and it was like putting on 3D glasses: "Whoa! I totally get why she chose the words she chose! And what they mean!" Not that it was unintelligible before, but now it makes so much more sense.

If the rest of my grad school career is equally enlightening, the tuition will be worth it.

Fall To-Do List

Hi! It's August. I know. Things got crazy.

So here's an easy blog to get back into the swing of things: a list stolen from a fabulous cooking blog, Chocolate and Zucchini. To quote: The Omnivore's Hundred is an eclectic and entirely subjective list of 100 items that Andrew Wheeler, co-author of the British food blog Very Good Taste, thinks every omnivore should try at least once in his life.

He offered this list as the starting point for a game, along the following rules:
1. Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2. Bold all the items you’ve eaten
3. Cross out any items that you would never consider eating. I am going to italicize these.
4. Optional extra: post a comment on Very Good Taste, linking to your results.

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos Rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile (Not yet, but I ate Cayman in Peru, which is practically the same thing.)
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J Sandwich
14. Aloo Gobi (I...don't know what this is.)
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes (I tried Cherry.)
19. Steamed pork buns (...don't know what this is, either.)
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper. (No, thank you.)
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna caude
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar (I don't condone smoking. But maybe one day, if offered, I would try this.)
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo (eaten in New Orleans)
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects (I would try them, but they'd have to be dead, and cooked.)
43. Phaal (Again like Clotilde, I'd try a forkful, but wouldn't order it for myself)
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/€80/$120 or more
46. Fugu (Absolutely not.)
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut (I have had it, but I did not like it, not one bit. In fact, I hated it. That's right.)
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly Pear
52.Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S'mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin (Um...)
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake (all of the above)
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill (No.)
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess fruit pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant (Someday...)
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse (I don't know if I could do this one.)
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam (Ew.)
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa (ooh, sounds yummy!)
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee
100. Snake

My score: 55/100. Looks like I have some tasting to do.

Cornmeal Muffins

My dear friend Anne visited DC last November when I was, unfortunately, in Jordan. The plus side for them: she and her (equally dear) husband Jasen got to use my apartment instead of getting a hotel. The plus side for me: a thoughtful gift of blue cornmeal from New Mexico.

I hadn't opened it until last night when I was wondering what one does with a lot of souring milk. The answer: mix it with blue cornmeal, some eggs, and some baking powder for blue corn muffin deliciousness:

Everyone needs some Prada, if only in haiku format

Go to the superfabulous blog Daddy Likey, pen a quick haiku about your favorite/most hated/most coveted designer, and see if you win some Prada.

At the very least, you get some amusing poetry. Go now!

Hamming It Up

I am not an extrovert.


Extroverts are those people who thrive in large groups. They are not the people whose faces flush at the thought of making three brief announcements at a staff meeting. They are not the people who forget to breathe in the middle of a speech, thus making their voices quaver and break. They are not the people who have to collect themselves after a walk on stage in front of a crowd, no matter how small. And usually, they don't understand those of us who do.


That's a broad generalization, of course. Some extroverts probably do, on some level, understand the sheer terror of the introvert upon being pushed into a public situation. But for the most part, I've found the opposite: extroverts who nod politely and/or stare blankly when I say, "... No ... I hate public speaking." The response is usually, "Yeah, me too!" But the introvert can see in the extravert's eyes that it is a lie. He doesn't hate it. He is just saying that because it seems appropriate. Everyone is supposed to hate publicity. I've found far more introverts who can at least comprehend that someone - not them, of course, but someone - enjoy the heat of the limelight.


Last time I was in Istanbul, we took our group to a dinner-and-show called Karavanserai. It was dark and seedy and in a basement. There were hard-edged belly dancers who never cracked a smile, inedible desserts, and an emcee who delighted in passing the microphone to unsuspecting audience members. It was, in short, sort of a personal hell. So I sat in the dark corner and tried to remain inconspicuous. Just as I was getting to enjoy myself, or at least, the company around me, I heard my name being called by the emcee.


Now, when this happens-my name called unexpectedly, bidding me to get up on stage and perform, my heart quickens, my face reddens, and I lose my voice. I said, "No," firmly and numerously. So he moved on to my co-worker, who gladly got out of her seat and went up on stage. Greeeeeat, she goes, now I have to go too. I don't mind being a party pooper and have little trouble saying "No," but this was a work event, and she was my colleague, and now I had to get up. So I got up and tripped toward the stage. Fellow introvert and partner in embarrassment, Jenn, joined us.


What I remember most about those brief minutes on stage is our extroverted colleague singing Proud Mary, complete with "Rollin'! Rollin'! Rollin on the river!" hand motions. I also remember looking out to the blurry audience and feeling sort of like my insides had caved in. I suppose we made it through the song, and I remember tripping back to my seat, face burning, tears welling up in my eyes. The combination of the surprise element + not knowing the words + already sort of hating that song + performing in front of colleagues and strangers + work event, for Pete's sake was too much for my shy inner child. She was traumatized.


So on this trip to Istanbul, I told Alp (who is a wonderufl person but also the person responsible for our Proud Mary rendition), "OH NO, NEVER AGAIN, UH UH I AM NOT GETTING ON A STAGE AGAIN, NOT IF YOU PAID ME."

Below are some pictures of me on stage, wearing a harem hat, being fed watermelon by a pretend sultan, and later, mimicking (in front of approximately 150 people, strangers and friends) the belly dancer, despite the fact that she had said to me, "No dance, just sit!" while coaxing me up on stage. You will note that Samia, because she is The Awesome, came up with me for moral support. Samia is pretty much my favorite person.








The things I do for my job.