Professional Critic

"...You Can't Just Show up with Inelegant-Looking Labia"

2009-11-11T14:25:00.000-08:00

Reader, thank the Maker for the sanity of Kate Harding, who writes for Salon's Broadsheet. Today she jumps into the fray of labioplasty, an increasingly popular cosmetic surgery to change the appearance of the labia, i.e. teenage porn star. A recent British study came out against the practice. In shocking news, plastic surgeons disagreed with their findings. Harding writes:

"Unsurprisingly, Douglas McGeorge, past president of the the British Association of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons, told the BBC he thinks the concern is "over the top. Essentially this is just about removing a bit of loose flesh, leaving behind an elegant-looking labia with minimum scarring." Oh, well if that's all it is! I mean, obviously, if you want to be taken seriously at a job interview or get a decent table at a hot restaurant, you can't just show up with inelegant-looking labia."

Bwahhahahahaha! Love her! You can catch the whole article here.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, there isn't one female body part that's just fine as is. Just so we're on the same page.

Greetings From The People's Gaypublic of Drugifornia

2009-11-03T20:11:00.000-08:00

What it is, reader! The relentless march of the holiday season has begun. Thanks to genius marketing, we no longer have a series of discrete celebrations but rather one long holiday that begins after Labor Day, HalloThankChristYears, the purpose of which is to buy all manner of shit.

After going out for Chinese with some friends this Hallo, we decamped to a nearby bar to watch the World Series (obvs I was not driving this agenda), Lucita's. Lucita's wasn't a "dive" bar populated by white urban hipsters but was just sort of seedy. Tended by a platoon of ladies costumed at various stops along the sexy continuum: nurse, cat etc, there was a surfeit of cleavage.

Shortly after we arrived, two men dressed as cops came in. Except they were really cops, as it turned out. They posted themselves directly in front of the entrance, such that you would not be able to enter or exit without their physically moving out of the way. Odd. At the same time, we also noticed a steady stream of men going up a half flight of stairs at the back of the bar, then returning a few minutes later.

It did not take an especially fertile imagination to conclude we had stumbled onto a police-protected sex ring. The cops were essentially bouncers--your tax dollars at work! I was semi-outraged.

Turns out, San Francisco has a rich history of police-protected prostitution rings, as documented in Erotic City: Sexual Revolutions and the Making of Modern San Francisco by Josh Sides.

Might those busty bartenders have been B girls, who receive a cut of drink sales that they entice men to buy with their wiles and wares? Additional sleuthing yielded this review of the bar. The writer, a bit of a sexist ass, did seem to pick up that something was amiss in Lucita's but neglected to notice the sex work happening all around him. Perhaps it was just the timing of his visit. If at some point the SFPD gets interested, since hey, they can't seem to solve any homicides, tell them you read all about it on Professional Critic.

In other news ...

Stupak Amendment: What. The. Fuck?

File under: Late to the Party but Sure Am Glad I Made It: Cashmere. Reader, why did it take me thirty eight years of life to start wearing cashmere? Soft, light and delightfully warm, cashmere is indeed God's gift to woolens. If you feel so inclined to buy your favorite blogger a HalloThankChristYear present, do consider this one from Restoration Hardware.

Hi future robe!

The first minute of this episode of 30 Rock still makes me howl:

The suck known as Trauma has been canceled. Not surprising. Here's a taste of Trauma:

Yes, it's all that bad.

Oh, SNAP!

2009-10-30T15:31:00.001-07:00

Celebrity chef/rake Anthony Bourdain has some choice words for Bay Area foodie extraordinaire Alice Waters: "annoys the living shit out of me." For the icing on the cake, calls her "Pol Pot in a muumuu." Although Bourdain's machismo chef shtick can be a bit much at times, this comment made me laugh out loud. Possibly the only thing more irritating than Bourdain's swaggering is Waters' rarefied preciousness.

However, to her credit Waters has put her considerable influence behind improving school nutrition with her Edible Schoolyard project. I can't seem to find anything Bourdain has done to advocate or promote the quality of food in this country. School lunches may not be sexy but they'll do a hell of a lot more to address the epidemics of obesity and diabetes in this country than Bourdain eating organ meats with a local. But! Bourdain never pretended to be a social reformer. He's an entertainer and entertains he does.

Read more here.

Josephine Summons Forth the Deity

2009-10-26T19:29:00.000-07:00

Reader, an irksome fact of life at Chez Professional Critic is my ongoing inability to adequately capture Josephine's cuteness on film. Her brother Gus, while not as adorable in reality, is ridiculously photogenic:

Strikes a pose

even mid nail-chomp.

If this was a season of America's Next Top Model, Gus would be the average-looking girl whose pictures knock your socks off. He is fierce, brings it, works it AND owns it.

Josephine would be the real-life stunner the judges reluctantly boot off after the fourth episode when they realize she simply cannot smile with her eyes.

Camera brings out deeply suspicious nature.

But I keep trying. The other day as Jo lolled on the bed in the glowing late afternoon sun I grabbed the camera. I got this:

Demented

And this

Stoned

And then, this:

Saint Josephine!

I love that she's bathed in this beatific glow, surrounded by thousands of points of colored light. Makes up for the fact that you can't quite see her precious little face, almost.

My Secret Trench Coat, Plus

2009-10-25T20:20:00.000-07:00

What it is reader! I keep forgetting to blog and instead watch lots of television on Hulu, which is a good indicator of just how exciting life is at the moment.

Here's a summary of the madcap adventures of Professional Critic:

1. I tried to employ The Secret to find a new jacket. I have been envisioning a deep teal blue trench coat, lined with some kind of animal print, I think leopard but maybe zebra. It's fitted but not belted, or maybe half belted in the back, and doesn't have all the weird faux military epaulets like your dad's 1975 London Fog. The fabric has a very light sheen. It makes me look mysteriously hip or hiply mysterious. Do you feel me, reader? I saw the jacket so clearly that actually buying it seemed a mere technicality. This was The Secret, was it not? So I sallied forth to manifest my jacket but much to my surprise, I was unable to do so, leaving The Gap, Nordstrom Rack and two of my very favorite independent clothing stores near my house empty-handed. I was so genuinely puzzled that I actually asked the clerk at one store, "where are your teal blue trench coats?" She must have been as confused by my question as I was by the store's woeful lack of teal trench coats, as she pointed to the black and gray coats, declining to make further eye contact.

2. Turns out, I may not be able to control retail fashion inventory with my thoughts, after all. Major buzz-kill Barbara Ehrenreich's new book Bright-Sided is a critique of the idea near and dear to the legions of Oprah that you can control the universe with your thoughts. Here she is, spreading her negativity to Jon Stewart on The Daily Show:

3. Speaking of Negative Nellies, I saw Michael Moore's new movie, Capitalism: A Love Story. It's full of inflammatory statistics presented out of context, heart-string-tugging stories out of the heartland, portraits of corporate greed and working class heroism, and the usual dose of Moore political theater, i.e. wrapping the Wall Street Bull in yellow crime scene tape. Good stuff. But one aspect of corporate shennanigans absolutely floored me: dead peasant insurance. These are life insurance policies a corporation takes out on employees and collects upon their death, whether or not they're still employed by the company. This is not the CEOs being insured, but the rank and file, like door greeters at Wal-Mart. THIS IS LEGAL? HELP ME, RHONDA! You can read about this ultra-repulsive, needs-to-be-outlawed practice here and here

4. I started using my sewing machine and made two new pillows for my couch. Crafty!

Cuteness Tuesday: Oh. Mah. Gah.

2009-10-15T22:14:00.000-07:00

What it is, reader! I swung by the Zooborns site after a spell. Get ready to fall out from cuteness:

Baby pygmy rabbit! With color coded ear for easy identification! I die.

It's a panda well-baby exam:

And a baby panda scaring its mama:

Isn't this so much better than balloon boy drama? TGIF, reader!

Weekend Getaway

2009-10-12T23:30:00.000-07:00

What it is, reader! This weekend I headed to Point Lobos with Teacher. Point Lobos is a place of magic and wonder and one of my favorite-est places ever.

But first we went to a winery, Chateau Julien. Only one of the wines we tasted did we actually like, Black Nova. Tastings.com said this about Black Nova:

"Deep garnet violet color. Lovely aromas of toffee, cedar, honeycomb, and blueberry cobbler a la mode follow through on a smooth, supple entry to a fruity-yet-dry medium-full body with excellent depth and highly polished oak beautifully supporting the fruit. Finishes with a long, creamy, nutty fade. Very sensual and enticing. Pair with filet mignon."

Can I get an eye roll? Despite this dopey description, Black Nova was fantastically yummy and if you find yourself with $55 burning a hole in your pocket, this would be an excellent way to spend it.

Next, we went to Garland Ranch Regional Park, which we found with the help of trusty iphone. Nestled in Carmel Valley, it was a perfectly gorgeous place to hike:

Then we shopped. Nothing scenic but I did find a pair of $12 jeans, which is sort of exciting.

The next morning we fell into the black hole called The Rachel Zoe Project. Please click on this link--the picture of her tells you exactly what you need to know about Rachel Zoe. If you've never seen this, let me free associate to draw a picture: drama, bag lady, the gays, vacuous, train wreck, beard.

On to Point Lobos. The weather was overcast, but that didn't dampen the amazing experience this place always offers. As usual, the park was teeming with wildlife: harbor seals, sea lions, sea otters, spouting whales, herons, cormorants and tide pools packed with awesomeness, including these vibrant purple sea urchins

and this orange sea star, which I learned is the correct term for starfish. Who knew?

From the small scale to the large, Point Lobos is amazing:

We didn't want to leave.

Yellow Jackets Are Bitchy Assholes

2009-10-05T20:28:00.000-07:00

What it is, reader! I write this from a Bendryl induced haze so I apologize in advance if I don't make a lick of sense.

Friday afternoon at work as I was reaching into my bag to get some gum I felt a painful pinch. I yanked my hand out of my bag and this was attached to my finger:

I flung my hand to get it off of me and nearly cried like a baby. It was surprisingly, awfully painful so I took some Benadryl and ibuprofen and iced it for a while. It seemed to work so I thought that was the end of it. A few hours later, though, my finger started swelling up, was red, hot and ridiculously itchy. It wasn't quite this bad, but it was pretty close:

The next day was worse so I ended up calling the advice nurse who asked me if I was drooling or having difficulty breathing. I wasn't--would I wait on hold for ten minutes if I couldn't breathe?--but they asked me to come in anyway. Not sure why since all the doctor did was tell me I was having a normal reaction to a yellow jacket sting and that swelling and itching could go all the way up to my shoulder. I kid you not.

Today is 72 hours post-sting and my entire hand is still crazy itchy. This can last up to a week. Weep.

This is a yellow jacket's ass. Ouchy.

Professional Critic Rounds It Up

2009-10-01T19:19:00.000-07:00

What it is reader!

A round up of the most important news of the day.

Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel. On? Off? Rhianna? Yes? No? Can I please get a straight answer?

I'm sort of excited to see Whip It!

There are so many new crappy shows this fall! Avoid especially: Eastwick, Trauma. Epic suck. But Glee is pretty awesome.

Kate Harding reminds us that Roman Polanski raped a child. With people (including, yes, Woody Allen) falling all over themselves in their codependence to protect Polanski from the consequences of his own assholic actions, I think they do need to be reminded.

Baby pygmy hippos are so fucking cute:

I guess David Letterman had affairs with some of his staffers, then was the victim of an extortion plot. Can't muster up any feeling about this.

This is Banned Books Week. Celebrate your freedom to read by picking up one of the most challenged books in the US.

Music Monday: Cougarville

2009-09-26T14:34:00.000-07:00

What it is, reader!

I caught the first episode of the new Courtney Cox show, Cougar Town. What can I tell you? It just wasn't good. Too bad, I kinda liked Courtney as Monica on Friends but this show is dopeyville. You can watch it on Hulu, here.

In other cougar news, I just read that the hot hot Mary Louise Parker is dating some youngster named Charlie Mars. I had not heard of him, but he appears to be a Jason Mraz/Jack Johnson, guy-with-a-guitar singer. Mary Louise also stars in his video, Dark Side:

I found this video neither steamy nor interesting and the song, a snoozefest. Perhaps one does need to be high to enjoy it?

All cougarness, or cougarity, aside, a question arises: she is no doubt teh hotness, but why does Mary Louise so embody passivity? Her lethargic character on Weeds is making the show nearly unwatchable (saved by Andy and Doug), but watching this video, I wonder--is this actually just her?

Live Blogging the 2009 Emmys

2009-09-20T17:33:00.000-07:00

5:34 I'm late! What did I miss?

5:35 Oh, the funny ladies! Good, I didn't miss it.

5:36 Oh, Samantha Who isn't a good show at all. Sarah Silverman's moustache! It's Toni Collette for the win, I do so like her, but have never seen United States of Tara. Wait, this is a Steven Spielberg show? Who knew? But what does the bottom of this dress look like? Oh, no, there it is. Don't like it.

5:38 Jon Cryer won an Emmy? Someone please tell me this is a nightmare.

5:39 Holy Blake Lively's boobies in that red dress. Whoa. It's best guest actor/actress. Tina Fey and Justin Timberlake! Tina's dress is boring, disappointing. I'd like to see her branch out a bit, fashion-wise.

5:41 Wait, what is going on with the shoulders of Leighton's dress? It looks like her neck is being attacked by throw pillows.

5:44 Reader, taking this commercial break to tell you that since TV went digital and I dutifully bought the converter box, I gained ten Cantonese channels, five Spanish channels, thirty seven public television stations and lost NBC, ABC and CBS. Hence, watching this streaming on laptop instead of on TV. Is this a conspiracy by cable companies? Methinks yes.

5:48 Rob Lowe still looks so good. Amazing. Actor in comedy! Alec Baldwin rules in this role. Oh but Jemaine from FOTC is so good, too. What is this "Big Bang Theory?" Huh, never saw it. Two and a Half Men, why? WHY? YES! It's Alec!

5:52 Classy acceptance speech by Alec. Says it's the best job he'll ever have. Don't doubt it.

5:54 WTF is this? Not funny, just gross, Family Guy.

5:54 Reality awards. Blergh. I mostly hate this entire genre.

5:57 Cheesy dancing. Yawn.

5:58 Neil Patrick Harris, I guess he's okay. Hayden looks pretty, nice updo. I don't care about any of these reality shows. I like writing and character development, sue me.

6:00 Is Jeff Probst like a total bazillionaire? Nice speech, though. Brief and grateful, light touch.

6:01 More commercials. I need water, this is an endurance event.

6:03 Yummy cocktail sounds better: vodka, lime fizzy water, strawberry lemonade. Delish!

6:06 Oh Tracy Morgan! He's incredibly fun to watch. But I still don't care about reality TV. Oh, a deaf person was on Amazing Race? Interesting. I think the only reality show I have seen in a while is The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Which was pretty good, in a train wreck kind of way. It's The Amazing Race for the win. I don't care.

6:09 For someone who says he's speechless, he has a lot to say. Enough of you, Amazing Race.

6:09 On to miniseries movies. I don't recognize any of these so far. Oh, Gray Gardens. I tried to watch the original movie and I couldn't make it through. So much crazy, I found it painful to watch. Oh, Kevin and Kyra, I love them both. Kyra's dress is too flouncy and floofy, but what a lovely color. So flattering on her.

6:13 I don't know who Shohreh Aghdashloo is, but she's gorgeous, like the Iranian Salma Hayek.

6:14 More miniseries movies that I don't know or care about. This time, the men. Some guy named Ken Howard wins for Gray Gardens. He looks vaguely familiar. Makes a good joke about getting interrupted by a Congressmen or a rapper. Nice. And then he acknowledges his kidney donor. I LOVE IT! Then he sweetly recognizes his wife, whose birthday is today. I love Ken Howard now.

6:18 A commercial for a new movie, The Invention of Lying. Has lots of good people, Ricky Gervais and Tina Fey, sounds promising.

6:20 Most of the people commenting on the live stream seem to be from other countries. Apparently the Tide Cold Water commercial featuring Digable Planets "Cool Like That" made a big impression.

6:22 Chandra Wilson, I don't like that dress one iota. It looks like it's devouring you. Kate Walsh, not sure I love the gray or all that ruching around your hips. I have definitely seen you look much better. Who is this guy now? Some miniseries thing again. He has a nice accent. Brendan Gleeson. All the commenters are talking about his performance in "In Bruges." Anyone?

6:27 Patricia Arquette, what the hell? This one-shouldered black glittery unflattering piece of bad news should have never been put on your body. Jennifer Love Hewitt has on a pretty flowy strapless yellow number that's a bit boring but looks nice on her. She's having a good hair day, too.

6:28 Dearblha Walsh won for something and she needs to be wearing more supportive undergarments. Sweet speech, though.

6:30 Really? The accountants--oh, it's Dr. Horrible. I didn't love this. But I agree that the future of home entertainment is the internet, but this is pretty funny.

6:33 It's Alec! Looooove. Best actress in miniseries movie. More things I've never seen. Jessica Lange takes it for Gray Gardens. Huh. She looks a bit odd. Overdone plastic surgery around the eyes, perhaps? Okay, move it along, Jess. But then she shares a nice moment with Drew, who does the hands clasped together squinty-eye thing. She's adorable, isn't she?

6:37 Refill.

6:39 Isn't it cool that vodka doesn't freeze?

6:41 Already a little buzzed.

6:42 Kiefer and some girl. A commenter calls her Baby Cate Blanchett. I can see it. Another category I don't know anything about. Miniseries/movies. Gray Gardens takes it. Did anyone actually see this?

6:45 More miniseries. When will this be about shows I care about?

6:46 Oh no, it looks like the lady from Little Dorrit has repurposed a bridesmaid dress. Magenta, shiny and hideous. Who allowed this?

6:47 Variety? Oh, like SNL? Nice clip of Tin Fey doing Palin: I can see Russia from my house! Talk shows, The Daily Show etc. David Letterman's weird interview with Joaquin Phoenix. Okay, I get it. Wait, was that the inauguration? That's a variety show?

6:50 Who are these people? Oh, it's the guy from Roseanne. Yes, I know I'm old.

6:51 Is it the alcohol? What the hell is this award actually for?

6:53 Whoa! I ran over to Jezebel's live blog to see if they caught what the award was for and there nestled in the live blog was an announcement by blogger Tracie that she's pregnant! Congrats! But now I'm really lost. And drunk.

6:54 Emmy goes to team from The Daily Show. Not sure what the award is for, but always enjoy The Daily Show. Accepting the award is a contingent of short Jewish men.

7:02 We're back! It's Jimmy Fallon, I don't really like him. But he's mocking Auto Tune in a totally hilarious way. You can see the clip here. Category is music and lyrics. Yet another category I don't care about. Occurs to me that I could have tuned in for the last thirty minutes and seen all the categories I cared about. Oh, wait! It's Flight of the Conchords and Mother Lover from SNL. Mother Lover is totally going to win. Oh UPSET! Some song written for the Oscars won. Weak.

7:06 Ricky Gervais presenting for ... not sure. Steve Carrell doesn't laugh at the joke at his expense. Hm. The Daily Show wins for ... whatever this category is. The short Jews come up again. Jon Stewart is adorable. He lauds Neil Patrick Harris, who seems appreciative.

7:11 This is kinda boring. Must I drink more?

7:14 Hm, ad for a new show featuring Julianna Margulies and Chris Noth. Could be promising. Too bad I've lost the ability to watch network television.

7:16 Drama! NCIS, never seen it. House? Same show over and over. Mentalist? Not that good. CSI? Don't care. Law and Order? Formulaic. Grey's Anatomy? Melodrama. True Blood? Campy fun. Lost? Never seen it. I finally figure out this is not the nominees list. DUH. Here are LL Cool J and Chris O'Donnell presenting for best supporting actor. John Slattery should win, hands down. Maybe the guy from Breaking Bad. Oh. It's Michael Emerson from Lost. He's super duper creepy.

7:21 Supporting actress in a drama. Dianne Wiest for In Treatment! That is a fantastically written and acted show. She should win this. She doesn't. It's Cherry Jones. She's a great actor so I grudgingly give her the Professional Critic stamp of approval.

7:24 Sarah MacLachlan sings to the dead people. When did Eartha Kitt die? Oh, the white guy from the Jeffersons! Ron Silver, didn't know that one. Paul Newman, wah!

7:27 Tracie from Jezebel not pregnant. She was just testing to see if anyone was reading. Sneaky.

7:32 Oh, poo. The fog is rolling in. Damn you, marine layer. Ad for Latisse, to grow longer, fuller, darker lashes. Ask your doctor if Latisee is right for you. Whatever.

7:33 Oh, it's vampire Bill from True Blood and that guy who used to be on Buffy and now on Bones. They tell us about the winners for the Creative Emmys. Seems to be about guest spots. Michael J. Fox won for Rescue Me. He was quite funny in the role of Janet's alcoholic paraplegic boyfriend. Ellen Burstyn looks like she's wearing my grandmother's livingroom curtains. But she rocks.

7:36 Writing award. I care about this, finally. Mad Men takes it! YES! The writing on this show is stellar. Matt Weiner gives encouragement to writers everywhere.

7:39 Simon Baker presenting for best actress in a drama. He's teh secks, is he not? Lots of good choices here, love Kyra in The Closer and Elizabeth Moss in Mad Men but Glenn Close takes it for Damages. I'm good with that. She spends lots of time acknowledging her co-nominees and the writers. Nice touch.

7:43 At the commercial break, realizing that I have yet to see a dress I covet. Also, that it's hard to eat pistachios and type. Sad about both.

7:49 Dana Delaney in unflattering glasses and a dress that doesn't fit her well but nice eggplant color. This is a great category, leading actor in a drama. Tons of contenders. Bryan Cranston takes it for the second year in a row for Breaking Bad! He is incredible in this role but I'm a little disappointed for Jon Hamm, who is just terrific as Don Draper.

7:52 Bob Newhart presenting for best comedy series. Many good choices here, though I would have to say that Weeds is no longer a comedy. 30 Rock takes it! This is a great show. Justice has been done.

7:57 Stephen Moyer, who plays vampire Bill on True Blood, has won Breakout Performance of the Year. This apparently has something to do with Vaseline Body Lotion. A more sober person will need to explain that to you.

8:00 Last category, best drama, presented by Sigourney Weaver. Of course I think Mad Men should win, since Dexter is really a comedy anyway. Mad Men takes it! Wahoo! Oh, January Jones, I think I might like your art deco-y dress. But where is Joan Holloway and all of her voluptuousness? I feel somewhat cheated.

The end, reader. That was kind of a snooze. I think I need to drink more, next time.

TV 'n Stuff

2009-09-16T23:32:00.000-07:00

Reader, tonight I watched one episode of the newish FX motorcycle club drama, Sons of Anarchy. I'm not sure that it will be a keeper but I was delighted to see two actors I liked very much from two of my very favorite shows, Mad Men and Deadwood.

Maggie Siff, who played department store heiress Rachel Menken on Mad Men:

And Dayton Callie, who played the wonderful Charlie Utter on Deadwood:

Interestingly, the show also has lots of parallels to The Sopranos. Maggie Siff's character Tara's struggles with learning just how elbow deep in crime her lover Jax really is. Katey Sagal's (formerly Peg Bundy) advice to her, "You love the man. You learn to love the club" had such a Carmela vibe.

So far neither the writing nor the characters of Sons comes close to their earlier shows, but it's great to see these actors again. Who knows, it could get better. Hulu will have episodes up eight days after air date for three weeks.

California people might be a bit more interested; the show takes place in the town of Charming, which I think is supposed to be Stockton, and features all kinds of Bay area references.

Dangerous Food

2009-09-14T23:07:00.000-07:00

Today's Consumerist article about a couple suing Dunkin Donuts after a hash brown burned their toddler was a real eye-roller. But I did learn that the McDonald's scalding coffee lawsuit, that I used to think was also an eyeroller, really wasn't frivolous at all. As in third degree burns to her legs and genitals, requiring an eight day hospitalization and multiple skin grafts. This was after hundreds of people had already been burned and this particular McDonald's had been warned by corporate to turn the coffee temperature down. You can check out the full background of the McDonald's case here.

And here is a precious video of a spazzy newborn baby elephant:

Fall Fare

2009-09-13T11:55:00.000-07:00

What it is, reader! This weekend's cool and rainy weather inspired me to cook something hearty. Since I'm spectaculary lazy, this had to be easy, take a minimum of ingredients, dishes and prep work.

I had a pork tenderloin in the fridge. Pork tenderloin's leanness is tricky-- the threat of dry awfulness is ever-present. But so lean that you don't have to deal with overwhelming amounts of piggy fat in other cuts.

I had maybe 1/3 of a bag of prewashed brussels sprouts from Trader Joes. One large red potato. Shallots. Onions are also okay.

Key to success is a heavy large skillet--non-stick will not do, so don't even ask. We're looking for stainless, cast iron or enamel coated iron that can go from stove top to the oven. And it needs to be big so the food has lots of surface area to brown.

Some minimal meat prep will be worth it: leave the fat, you'll need what precious little there is of it. But remove the silver skin, as that does not make for a happy eating experience. I use a scissor for this. Next, pat it dry with paper towels. This is also important.

Heat up some olive oil in your pan. You want it hot, so the oil is shimmering as you swirl it around in the pan. Lay the loin in the pan. Now back away slowly from the stove--do not touch or peek or you will interfere with the glorious browning process. You want to do around five minutes per side, the whole surface of the loin.

Preheat the oven to 375.

While browning is happening, chop up the potato in smallish chunks, playing dice size. Keep the skin on, for the love of God. Chop the hard ends off and quarter the brussels sprouts. Dice the shallot. Make sure nothing is wet. Water is the enemy of caramelization.

After meat is browned, take it out of the pan. Put veggies in. Smush them around to coat with oil and then leave them be. Really! Don't touch! Maybe after five or so minutes, give them a turn. You'll see evidence of browning. Rejoice. Cook for five more minutes.

Put the browned meat back in the pan. Avoid crowding, otherwise food steams instead of browning. Caramelization makes deliciousness. While an acceptable method of transforming raw food into cooked food, steaming is not delicious.

Stick the whole skillet in the oven, uncovered. I left mine in there about 20 minutes give or take, and gave the veggies a turn about halfway through. Don't stir more than that. Really. It's that browning thing again. Fork the veggies to see if they're ready. Take the meat out and let it rest. Do not poke or cut. Leave it! Back away! Except to stop the cats from getting on the counter and licking it.

If you're more ambitious than me, this would be a great time to make a pan gravy, scraping up the lovely brown bits (the fond), adding some chicken or veggie stock, butter, cooking over low heat. I just put in a blob of butter and call it a day.

While doing this, be careful not to burn the shit out of your hand as I did. If you do, however, take the Lord's name in vain, loudly, get that hand under cold running water and leave it there for a while. Take some ibuprofen. Have a good laugh at your own absent-mindedness.

Eat. Swoon. Realize you forgot to take pictures for reader. Eat some more.

A New Angle on Healthcare Reform

2009-09-02T19:10:00.000-07:00

Hopefully we've all sufficiently progressed in our thinking so we can agree that preventative health care is a better use of scarce resources than emergency care. An important part of maintaining health is routine visits and screenings, natch.

I always leave my six month dental cleaning visit with a goody bag of items: toothbrush inscribed with dentist's name, toothpaste, floss and mouthwash. Sometimes the hygienist will even give a little neck massage. The allergist doles out samples of Claritin. The Breast Health Center gives out bottle of waters, pink stress balls and granola bars. But what have I ever gotten from the gynecologist at my annual visit? Reader, NOTHING.

Why is it that the most invasive and least pleasant of screenings (I have not yet hit the age of colonoscopy) yields no doctor swag? Pap smears and HPV screenings are extremely important for the health of ladyparts and what are our esteemed vag doctors doing to make sure we get there and come back every year? NOTHING.

So in the name of real health care reform, I've made a list of items to fill a gynecological swag bag and experiences to help all the ladies out there eager for their next beaver screening. Gynos, take note:

For the environmentally aware:
Diva Cup
Organic unbleached cotton Natracare products
Acidophilus capsules

For the appearance conscious:
Bikini wax, or decorative pubic hair shaping
Spray-on tanning
Pedicure

For the sex positive:
Samples of quality lube (KY is strictly for pelvic exams, instead Liquid Silk or Pjur.)
Articles from Getting Off: A Woman's Guide to Masturbation

For the practical:
Period tracking calendar
Tampon case inscribed with practice name--good PR! These are cool but a bit steep.
Kegelcisor

For the debauched:
Cocktails
Chocolate
Ecstasy
Caribou trimmed mules

It's about time.

Timeless

2009-08-30T22:15:00.000-07:00

Reader, tonight I was watching some episodes of Flight of the Conchords. Bret and Jemaine are super fabulous, as I wrote about here and if you have never seen FOTC, do correct straightaway. During episode 3 of the second season, Bret's newly-formed gang busts out into song and dance a la West Side Story:

Which reminded me how a few months ago I decided it was bordering on criminal that I had never seen West Side Story, which is all like classic and stuff, so I attempted to watch it on Netflix Watch Instantly. I say "attempt" because I couldn't make it past the Prologue. Unfortunately I was unable to suspend disbelief long enough to be convinced that the roving band of flaming homosexuals in tight pants and dance shoes was a menacing street gang. I just couldn't do it. Here's the whole Prologue; 1:40 on should fill you with fear:

Have you ever seen anything so deliciously gay?

Love is in the Air

2009-08-28T20:17:00.000-07:00

Reader, I generally give my love life wide berth on this blog. There's plenty to whinge about without trawling through that, frankly. But today I received an email through an online dating website that was just too good to keep to myself. Here it is in all its bizarre glory, though I've done some censoring to protect the identity of the ~~wackanoodle~~ writer.

How are you doing and how about your family and work? I like what i see and what your profile has to say. I am have been living in [an east coast city] although am originally from [European country]. I latter traveled to [a different European country] when it seems i was being affected by the Global economic down melt and was able to get some great jobs here. I have many companies that i service their oil and gas pumps.Having been in [east coast city], i want to get back to America because America is where i would like to be for the rest of my life.But before coming back to America, i would like to hook up with the right person, the right woman...lol a woman to grow old with me, a woman to love and beloved...A woman that has good understanding, caring and lovely. A woman with good sense of humor because i have great sense of humor as well.Such a woman with me will ever live to testify what a true relationship i because i am ready to carry my woman as my baby...my laps shall always be her bed and resting place receiving millions of kisses always from me.Have love dance together mostly under rain in the yard...lol We can even party together to shake our ass off provided we get back with it...silly me. Have a lovely night as i hope to hear from you.

Are there words? I didn't have any, initially. How did this guy know it's always been a dream of mine to be carried as a baby or to sit in his laps? Then I ended up thinking this must be the dating equivalent of emails from Nigerian businessmen seeking investors. Can't imagine he gets too many responses, but a lid for every pot etc.

What Not To Wear: Cutting Deeper

2009-08-24T23:15:00.000-07:00

Reader, today was my birthday. I am OLD years old. So I wanted to look, you know, a little nicer. I pulled out a lovely 3/4 sleeve ballerina style wrap sweater with crochet detail that I bought at Filene's Basement about six months ago but had yet to wear. This would be the right occasion to finally take the tags off!

Reader, it looked TERRIBLE. Whatever possessed me to buy a sweater that looked this bad? I clearly remember standing in front of the mirror at Filene's, tying the sweater this way and that, trying to get it to look the way it did in my head. You know, like Debbie Allen in Fame:

My efforts were in vain, but I bought it anyway, of course. I fell into Big Clothing Myth #1: If you love it, it must look good. Never mind what your reflection is actually telling you.

Since I couldn't put my finger on why exactly I didn't look like graceful Debbie Allen but possibly more like homeless woman, I chalked it up to things that I could change. With better pants, better hair, better lighting, in a different time zone, I was going to wear the shit out of this sweater.

But now, it will join the ranks of the discarded, unworn. With eyes unclouded by visions of Debbie Allen, I can see the problems, and they are legion: the sweater terminates at maximum love handle. The back is too loose and boxy, the opposite of what a slim ballerina sweater should be. Though interesting, the color is somewhat difficult. And it is highly likely that my cats would have snagged the crap out of all that crochet work.

Oh well, reader. Chalk it up to a learning experience.

What Not to Wear: Oakland Edition

2009-08-22T11:01:00.000-07:00

I live in a one bedroom apartment with a pretty good amount of closet space but no other storage to speak of. Hence, the trunk of my car serves as a closet annex where I store camping gear and other outside/dirty stuff that would otherwise go in a garage like the grill, beach chairs, etc. But even with this storage on wheels, my bedroom closet was getting over-full and yet I still felt that I had nothing to wear. It was with this sense of frustration that I plowed through my closet this weekend. My mission: ditch anything that hadn't been worn in a year, was not flattering, or didn't fit properly. And be ruthless.

What I learned from today's exercise:

1. It doesn't matter how nice or expensive they are: unless I lose significant inches from my hips, stomach and butt, or grow four inches I must never EVER wear pleated pants again. I have seen tall, lanky women rock pleated pants in that fabulous gender-bending Greta Garbo way. But on my short, short-waisted, muffin-topped self? Schlumpy librarian. Goodbye.

2. Long dresses/skirts: disaster. Skirts should end anywhere in the zone between right above the knee and mid calf. Period. Though I would make an exception for a fabulous muumuu should one ever cross my path. I decided to spend some money shortening my very favorite skirt, an awesome Goodwill find, and a dress that I love, so that I look more fabulous and less like an extra on Big Love.

3. Boxy sweaters make me look like the Liberty Bell. Goodbye.

4. Despite the media blitz on the ropy muscular arms of Michelle Obama, Madonna and Sheryl Crow, I must admit defeat to my gene pool. I have the sausagey upper arms of the Russian/Italian/Irish peasant stock from which I come and am definitely not willing to go to the lengths it would take to overcome it. Instead, I ditched a half dozen shirts whose sleeves were too snug in that critical top third of the upper arm.

5. My sister recently met Stacey London of What Not to Wear and she gave the audience a lot of grief about capri pants, especially for the petite. I'm still on the fence about capris, or as my mom called them, "clam diggers." Done well, they seem to work on even semi-midgets like myself but I did ditch a few pairs today. I'm not sure if I understand yet what causes one pair of capris to be great and the other to be weirdly Munchkin-like. Thoughts, reader?

6. I've got quite a bit of junk in the trunk, as they say. Just like Sir Mix a Lot, I don't think it's possible for a woman's ass to look too big.

The downfall for the callipygian? Poor pocket placement, overly high-waisted, or both. To wit:

Poor Jessica Simpson got slaughtered for being fat in those last two pictures. Sure, she had gained some weight since sporting the Daisy Dukes, but the weight wasn't the problem. It was the damn high-waisted, weirdly-pocketed jeans. (Though that belt didn't help matters.) I said goodbye to a few of those today, too.

Reader, I filled four bags within an hour, brought them to the sidewalk outside my building, and they were gone almost instantly. I love city living! Not only does this save me a trip to the thrift store but I am thus prevented from having second thoughts and putting stuff back in the closet.

There are still some items in my closet that ought not be there according to the rules of my purge, but I made enough space so that I can open the closet door without all manners of clothing, blankets and lampshades falling on my head, so I'm satisfied for now.

Also? The older I get the more it becomes clear that I have exactly the same body shape as my mother. To think of all the times I mocked her unyielding shapewear, or compared her giant undies to a sail! Sorry I was such a brat.

Book Picks!

2009-08-19T21:24:00.000-07:00

Reader, I just finished the most amazingly funny, tragic, and tender novel, City of Thieves by David Benioff. Go now and read it.

Tuesday Recap

2009-08-17T21:58:00.000-07:00

What it is reader! I'm just back from vacay, tan but fighting off a cold. I'm hopelessly out of date with all things interwebby, so let's do a quick recap of the week's events, shall we?

1. Folks' undies all in a twist about healthcare rationing. Really? Never had a doctor prescribe something for you that wasn't on your insurance formulary? You know, that list of drugs your insurance company will pay for?

2. Same folks undies all wadded up about socialized medicine? Expecting MediCare when you're 65? Socialized medicine. Like to get a response when you call 911? Socialized public safety. Like to borrow books from the library gratis? Socialized public services. Expect your kids to get a free education through grade 12? Socialized education. So STFU already! My patience for this non-argument has left the building.

3. Annie Liebovitz is broke. I care, a little, maybe.

4. Jet Blue has an interesting deal: fly all you want between September 8th and October 8th for $599. Offer ends Friday, so step on it.

5. Men can sport a gut and still be considered hip and attractive. This is news?

6. PETA takes sexism and fatphobia to stunning new heights. FAIL. Check out some of the links to other grody PETA ads at Feministing.

7. The third season premier of Mad Men was Sunday. You can read all about it here.

And I'm tired. Happy Tuesday, reader!

Mrs. Lewis, Signing Out

2009-08-05T00:15:00.000-07:00

What it is, reader! I've been sans interwebz for a bit now and learned that while an iphone is a lot like a computer, it can't actually take the place of one. Turns out that many of my favorite sites don't have mobile versions and even when they do, must have been tested on people using magnifying glasses.

But all is well again technically speaking at Professional Critic. Though I did find an impressive array of teeth marks in the phone line, it turns out to not be the cat's fault this time.

What the problem was exactly, I'll never know. While driving to work today I received a call from an AT+T robot this morning in response to the trouble ticket, urging me to stay on the line as it was URGENT THAT I SPEAK WITH A CUSTOMER REPRESENTATIVE.

So I listened to hold chatter for a very long time until I was connected to a service rep. After a comedy routine to rival Who's On First, surprise! He can't find me in their system, totally my fault for not having my trouble ticket number with me in the car or memorizing my DSL number, a number which I have never dialed in my life and never will because that's how these things work, friend. And though I have an AT+T cell phone number and every customer service rep I talked to in the past three days has repeated it back to me dutifully, he cannot find me that way, either. And he calls me, over and over, "Mrs. Lewis," which is not remotely close to my name, and really? Isn't my account up on the screen in front of you? Does the name "Mrs. Lewis" appear anywhere in my account? Because I bet it doesn't.

I'm not sure what was so URGENT because everything is copacetic now. But I'm horribly behind on what's been happening on the information superhighway and have nothing to offer except this baby elephant Luk Chai, from the Taronga Zoo, courtesy of Zooborns:

Music Monday, Pteridophyta Edition

2009-07-26T17:53:00.000-07:00

Reader, you may recall that internet radio station Pandora introduced me to Iron and Wine. Since loving Boy with a Coin, I bought the album The Shepherd's Dog and am now grooving on the lovely Resurrection Fern.

Though I couldn't dig up the band video on interwebs, here's the song paired with some enterprising You Tube user's photos:

On a weekend hike ran into a number of ferns, here's one for your nature lovin'pleasure:

On a completely unrelated note, I was torn after reading this article about the insane amounts of sodium in some of Denny's most popular offerings, subject of a new lawsuit in New Jersey. One on hand, don't we all know by now that most restaurant fare is packed with sodium and fat, let alone Denny's whose very specialty is cured breakfast meats? On the other hand, this is so beyond the pale, with some entrees having nearly four times the amount of sodium an adult should have in one day. But what next? Warning notices at the county fair? The deep fried Snickers you are about to eat is battered DEATH.

But labeling does work, at least, it works for me, if "work"= total buzz kill. Peet's recently started offering nutrition information and after studiously ignoring it for weeks I learned that my favorite breakfast treat, the Cream Currant Scone, has 480 calories. I conveniently blanked out the grams of fat. Needless to say, it's one thing to know theoretically that something probably isn't good for you and another thing entirely to see just how bad it is in black ad white. I haven't had once since. Too bad the fat-free oatmeal apricot hockey pucks don't look more appealing.

Oy and Then ...

2009-07-21T22:48:00.000-07:00

Reader, preeminent African-American scholar and Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. was arrested on his own front porch for allegedly breaking into his own house last week. NOT GOOD. Then James Hannaham from Salon writes that the incident has made him "proud of America" because Gates was only arrested and not actually lynched by the police? Umm ... hooray? You can read more about this fiasco here and here.

Let's take a break from racial profiling and cancer to watch a clip from 30 Rock. This particular segment has got to be one of the damn funniest moments of this show and one of the many times I am absolutely mesmerized by Alec Baldwin:

Occam Applies/Public Service Announcement

2009-07-20T20:54:00.000-07:00

What it is, reader!

Since I am scared shitless of cancer right now I took my pale, easily-burned, freckly ass to the dermatologist last week for a mole check. Interestingly when I scoured interwebs to find some cancer screening links I found several sites that were extremely meh about routine skin cancer screening, most notably Sloan-Kettering. But whatevs, reader! I'm all hypervigilant and am bringing my message to you come hell or high water.

So, back at the derm, you get nekkid and the doctor looks at all your skin, using some thingy that sort of looks like a mini telescope, asking about family history of melanoma (no), sun exposure (yes), and sunburns (hells yes).

He decided to biopsy a mole on my back and sadly since I have never seen it I can't tell you what it looked like, except it had "irregular borders." After slicing it off (getting the anesthetic was the only pain I felt) he threw it into a little jar. For a moment I considered asking him if I could see it so I could report back to you but then worried seeing my bloody disembodied mole might make me pass-outy. Work was expecting me and I didn't have time to linger on the fainting couch.

All is fine and I don't need to go back for two years unless I find something funky. Kind of like when Heather Armstrong from Dooce did, but hers is funnier. She's got lots of skin cancer stories that I am too lazy to link here but you'll see them in her post.