My hero

A Fair is a Veritable Smorgasbord, orgasbord: Part 2

(This was supposed to be posted when the fair actually happened, but not only am I a terrible blogger, I'm now gainfully employed. So that takes up a lot of my valuable time. I'm posting it anyway despite the fact that I ended up abbreviating it just for the sake of time. New Year's resolution: be a better blogger.)

If my first day at the fair was about animals and weird pop culture sightings, my second day was all about the food. As soon as we walked in we headed straight for the food booths. Collectively we consumed:
-Fried mac and cheese bites. Not bad. Pretty much like mac and cheese with crunchy topping.
-Deep fried mashed potatoes. Not so great. Very bland, despite the fact they had bacon bits in them.
-Deep fried pecan pie. Pretty tasty! A nice, chewy dough on the outside and the inside got all melty.
-Chicken gyro. Disgusting. Bad call on my part, because there's no way it would've been good. For one thing it was covered in nacho cheese. That should tell you all you need to know.
-A whole dill pickle for 50 cents. Love pickles, love the price, end of story. And they were handing out scratch and sniff pickle stickers that really did smell like pickles.
-Hand-cut fries. So wonderful and and salty and greasy, the way a good fry should be. So much better than the ribbon fries from the night before.
-Krispy Kreme Burger. I didn't actually try this one, but my friend did. He ate the whole damn thing and said it was amazing. 2 doughnuts, a fried egg, a burger--it should come as no surprise that Paula Deen has her own recipe for the Kripsy Kreme Burger.

Templeton would be proud.

In between stuffing out faces, we took in the sights.
The genetically mutated animals. Personally, I think it's really nice that they call the animals amazing and ask for them to be loved. Cyclops pigs need love too.
The giant, prize winning produce. My friend asked how they grow that big and apparently it's a type of seed that produces big pumpkins. Learn something new everyday!
The prize winning livestock. That is a really pretty cow.
And the food stand vendors. The guy that worked here looked like Santa Claus. It makes sense he'd work fair candy stands during his off season.

The one thing I regret (0ther than the chicken gyro) was getting on a spinny ride after eating my fries. Really, really stupid. I couldn't even enjoy it because my friend kept talking about how she was gonna barf, which in turn made me focus on my own nausea. Luckily, neither one of us did.

I came, I saw, I ate. Until next year!

A Conversation

"So, here's my problem... she spanks me during sex."
Me: Do you not like it?
"Um, no, not really."
Me: Why?
"Well, it kinda hurts. ... And it makes me feel like a child being punished, which is a terrible feeling to have during sex. And, well, I feel little out of control, to be honest."
Me: And that's a bad thing?
"Well, yeah. I almost [employs air quotes] lose it. ... How do I tell her to stop?"
Me: Tell her what you just told me. Tell her you don't like it.
"But I think she likes it."
Me: So? If she likes you at all, she'll stop doing something that makes you so uncomfortable.
"..."
Me: ...
"But I like spanking her."
Me: Does she like you spanking her?
"I don't know. I never really thought about it. She moans when I spank her, but I moan when she spanks me because it hurts."
Me: Did you ever ask her if you could spank her?
"I just assumed it was cool."
Me: Why?
"Well, you know, girls like that sort of thing."
Me: You mean those feelings of pain and being demeaned and made to feel like a child and being out of control...girls like that better than guys?
"I didn't say that."
Me: You said it makes you feel that way. Why would it be different for a girl?
"Because girls are used to it."
Me: ... Keep digging your own grave here.

A Fair is a Veritable Smorgasbord, orgasbord: Part 1

(This was supposed to be posted when the fair actually happened, but not only am I a terrible blogger, I'm now gainfully employed. So that takes up a lot of my valuable time. I'm posting it anyway because [believe it or not] I put a lot of work into it. New Year's resolution: be a better blogger.)

A lot can be learned from E.B. White's children's classic Charlotte's Web. The wonder of friendship. Everyone is special and contributes something to their society. The beauty and cruelty of nature. And the gluttonous wonder that is the State Fair. Whenever the fair rolls around my mind immediately goes to the fair scenes in Charlotte's Web, particularly the scenes from the animated movie where Templeton fantasizes about the food he will eat and when he actually runs around collecting, ingesting, and gleefully rolling around in scraps from the fair. For me, this encompasses the fair: it's trashy, it's flashy, and sorta bad for you, but there are these little crumbs of joy (and sometimes bewilderment) to be found. It's a smorgasbord of sensory overload that can leave you feeling elated or sick to your stomach. Or both.

It's fair time once again, and for some reason I agreed to go not once, but twice. There's a lot that I like about the fair, and some things that I don't. And even with the things that I enjoy, I recognize how strange or downright wrong they can be outside of the context of the fair. Because it really is this ephemeral experience, and the things that make up "The Fair Experience" make total sense in context, and yet somehow still don't. For example: Anything deep fried. It's perfectly acceptable to eat, and to want to eat deep fried things at the fair. It's almost a given. And yet it's still considered absurd, and we know it's not healthy to eat deep fried candy bars, but it's just this one time a year, so it's okay. And despite the fact that it's the same rides and same vendors in the same places, the experience is always a little different. So, here are my two days at the fair.

Saturday I went with Luann and the Count. As soon as we walked through the gates things got weird. From a distance I could see that there was this guy handing things out to people, and not liking to make eye contact with people who are handing things out, I turned my head as we walked by, pretending to be interested in renting a Rascal. Awkward crisis averted, I then heard the guy say, "FREE HARLEQUIN NOVEL! GET YOUR FREE HARLEQUIN NOVEL!" Um, what was that? Free Harlequin novel, you say? There's no way that is for real. They are handing out free harlequin novels at the fair? What is this, Christmas? But it was real.
Based off the cover (and blurb on the back) I think it's about a woman who falls in love with a cowboy. The only thing that could make this better if it was called A Fair to Remember and was about a woman that had an affair with a carnie or a side-show freak. But I'm not even sure what the title is. I think it's Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch, which sounds like a cowboy-fied Nancy Drew. Who ever okay'ed this cover is crazy, because why would you make the title so difficult to see? Forget it, Jake; it's free harlequin romance and mystery town.

Anyway, we continued walking and first stop was the food. A steak sandwich for the Count, ribbon fries for myself, and a giant turkey leg for the ever classy Luann. She ate it like an ANIMAL. A classy animal. But what really amused me was that while we were waiting in line to get her leg, I happened to look over and see a can of Faygo orange soda sitting on the edge of the grill. Talk about an Easter egg for the juggalo fans! In my mind, one of the guys working the grill was either a juggalo, a fan of Faygo, from Michigan, or D all of the above. What are the ODDS?

We decided that we'd go in search of the livestock next, but on the way we got sidetracked by more food. Deep fried Reese's cups for me; deep fried 3 Muskateer's for the Count. The Count's was pretty good as it was nice and melty. Mine on the other hand was meh. Too much dough; not enough Reese's. So I ate the peanut butter out of the middle LIKE AN ANIMAL.

We took yet another pit-stop and decided to pay a dollar to see Big Willie, the 3 foot wide, 13 foot long gator. The signs out front said "ALIVE" and truthfully it wasn't false advertising because he was once alive.
The pennies thrown into the cage make me laugh. "Here lies Big Willie. He was once the king of the swamp, and now he is a wishing well. RIP, Big Willie." Honestly, I don't know what we expected. And even though this isn't what I expected, I'm not really disappointed because it's so stupid and ridiculous. They even had ambiance in the form of little gnomes or something carved into cypress knees along with snake skins and a tarantula specimen. It's like we're in the BAYOU! or the EVERGLADES! I can almost feel oppressive heat and itching mosquito bites.

Anyway, we found the animals soon after that. Feeding them was one of the highlights of the fair. I could feed animals as long as they would let me. The Count made a crack about how a carrot diet might affect their digestion, but I figure they will at least have good eyesight. And they have so many great animals! Goats, capybaras, kangaroos, cows, buffaloes, camels, (when I went last year with the Professor and Waldorf I politely asked a camel if I could touch their hump. They seemed cool with it, and their hump was so soft and lovely.) And the alpacas! Oh, do I love an alpaca. With their fuzzy looking fur and tufts of hair on their heads. Best. Ever. I was truly giddy, as evidenced by my blurry animal photos.
After leaving the petting zoo we stumbled across this:

The Michael sightings have begun. When I first saw this I thought I was hallucinating, because What. The. Fuck. Even that polar bear behind him is like, "what is this, I don't even..." Can you just imagine the thought process of the people that decided to make this? "I know, let's make Michael dolls! The Michael fans will be all over it. Everybody loved This Is It. And it's been a year, so it's time! It won't be creepy at all. Great idea. Likes this." After realizing that this was in fact real and not a product of my deep-fried, dark and weird mind it started to make sense in a way. Of course this exists. How can it not? This is Michael filtered through endless lenses of pop culture, and we all saw that Michael had become a cartoonish figure. He had become a persona, the epitome of fame itself. He was materialistic consumption in the form of hit singles. He wasn't Michael Jackson, a person, he was Michael Jackson: the King of Pop. In a way, this is more Michael Jackson than the real Michael Jackson ever was.

And now for something completely different: arts and crafts!
You know, I'm starting to think the fair is the ultimate celebration of pop culture. Yes, that is a gourd painted to look like a snork. A SNORK! I'm always amazed when people remember The Snorks, because they were like an aquatic, low-budget Smurfs. But that gourd really does make a perfect snork, not to mention the amazing yarn hair.

I'm not sure if that's a shark eating fish, or a shark making chum, but either way it's pretty awesome.

There was so much other stuff in addition to the gourds. Lawn gnomes, sock monkeys, felted turkeys, fudge, a Lego stormtrooper and T-Rex...pretty much anything you could imagine was there. Soon after that we decided to watch the fireworks and leave. But I'd be back the next day...

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Sexy Chewbacca Halloween costume:


Remember that scene in Mean Girls where Lindsay Lohan's character Cady was talking about how Halloween was just an excuse for girls to dress slutty and how we all laughed, but then started to notice it was true? This just proves that you can make anything slutty for your sexy/slutty Halloween costume needs. And not to be a nerd, but that fur looks nothing like Chewbacca's. In fact, none of this looks anything like Chewbacca. I mean Chewie carried a bowcaster, not a gun! I'm not sure what makes this "sexy" other than her boobs and the fact that you can almost see her fur bikini underneath her fur skirt. Honestly, it'd be waaay sexier just to go full-on Chewbacca. He was of noble linage! And smart and sophisticated and loyal! And a techie! And this costume is one big fail that does not do him justice. Now excuse me while I go bitch about how George Lucas ruined Star Wars.

Suggestion fail

Earlier today I went over to youtube and watched the video for La Roux's "Bulletproof." After it ended, youtube popped this up and suggested I watch Miley Cyrus sorta-not-really pole dance at the Teen Choice awards. Youtube needs to get some advice from bing on how to advertise/get page views, because if I'm into La Roux (and I'm really into La Roux--if you haven't listened or watched "Bulletproof" go do it now) I don't want to watch some old news "scandal" on Miley. More La Roux, please!

Opinion Overload: The New Survey Culture

"Campus Dining Survey." "Campus Parking Survey." "Public Transportation Survey." "Campus Technology Survey." These were the first four emails in my campus email inbox this morning. While I was looking at them, I got a phone call from the Honda dealership; they wanted me to complete a brief survey about my most recent experience in their service department. My answer: It was two years ago; I don't remember. In another email inbox, I had a survey from a Toyota dealership asking my father about his satisfaction in the Toyota brand. How this ended up in my email is completely beyond me. I've never owned a Toyota and the last time I went to a Toyota dealership was when I was car shopping in 2001.

I gave up on work and headed to Wal-Mart where, upon being handed my receipt, I was invited to complete yet another survey about my shopping experience for a chance to win a $1000 Wal-Mart gift card.

Back at home with groceries put away and the dog walked, I sit back down to my computer and open my campus email again. I have ANOTHER survey request about my satisfaction and usage habits of a textbook the department writes and prints and REQUIRES us to use. My personal email has a survey about parking in my apartment complex, which I find amusing since it's the fourth one this year and nothing has changed. (The complex, 2 years old now, built less than one parking space per apartment when some apartments have four cars to them. Somehow, our answering of surveys is supposed to direct them in how to resolve the problem, which I suggested that next time they don't be so ridiculously stupid. Perhaps it is unproductive responses like that that have caused them to send four surveys in one year about the same problem).

This has been going on for the last three or four years. I have been, and assume most of us have been, bombarded with survey requests from corporations, schools, retailers, and banks. Surveys on campus functions and infrastructure, textbook usage, shopping experiences, transportation habits, customer service, loan processes, marketing, money...dare I go on? No, I don't dare.

At first I felt flattered, naively of course, that they would seek my opinion. I would answer them thoughtfully. But with the glut of surveys that I am bombarded with now, I want to scream! None of my carefully answered surveys has made the lines at Wal-Mart any shorter, the staff more knowledgeable, or the produce more edible. My responses to Food Lion's surveys have in no way encouraged them to move the cluttered displays that transform their aisles into obstacle courses for people in mobility chairs or pushing a cart-- which is pretty much everybody. They haven't made the services at the bank any less expensive (when did I start paying them to use my money instead of them pay me?!) And they haven't encouraged the department for which I work to let me not use a textbook that I think is pretty much useless and an embarrassment to us. I don't ever eat on campus so I can't answer those surveys and aren't even sure why I get them since they aren't relevant, though I'm tempted to fill them in with random answers in order to skew their data. But all the time it has taken me to answer these surveys hasn't been rewarded with better services, more parking spaces, more widespread public transportation, or better books. I haven't gotten a damn thing from them but a lot of lost time I can never get back.

To make matters worse, these surveys, if they do allow you to put in a comment of your own at some point, limit it to a specific number of characters or only let you comment on things that you care nothing about. The questions are poorly formed and closed. These surveys don't seek information, knowledge. They only seek to make you feel important.

Once upon a time, way back in the 90s and before, surveys were used sparingly to collect quantitative data, to gauge quantitative trends. Now it's all qualitative questions they're asking and I'm not sure that surveys can actually work like that. I mean, how do you compile and reduce qualitative information to numbers? Maybe I didn't pay enough attention in statistics class.

On a personal level, surveys cause me a significant amount of anxiety. For example, I answered a mental health survey a few weeks ago and it asked me: "Did you have trouble thinking or concentrating?" Well, I always have trouble thinking or concentrating. It's hard to focus on work when there's drama at home or I have a head cold. What constitutes "trouble"? And if I answer "yes" to that question, does that somehow indict me? Make me a suspect in some sort of mental health crime? A Quality of Life Questionnaire wanted me to answer sixteen questions about my perception of my satisfaction with life quality by rating them on a scale of one (very poor) to five (very good) and I begin to panic because their is no objective definition provided for what is "very bad" or "very good." And sometimes I couldn't decide if it was average or above average...they didn't offer a 3.5 option on the scale. There's no room for indecision, self-reflection, or personal opinion. Your opinion is reduced into categories that are deemed most efficient for processing with no real engagement. It's on par with answering the monthly quiz questions about my sex life in Cosmopolitan magazine.

And then the surveys try not to be intrusive. "It will only take you ten minutes," they claim. But ten minutes or no, I still am not getting anything out of this at all. I have to pay for their time and services, but they don't have to pay for mine? And then if I delete their message, they send me a follow up email or automated phone message (American Express being notorious for this): "You still haven't answered our survey. Please complete the survey at your earliest convenience." I begin to feel badgered and guilty, judged inadequate by an email or phone survey.

To make matters worse, in the era of survey overload, people will answer surveys all day long for the mere hint of something free but will not answer the US Census, regarded by several of my neighbors with great suspicion. When they see a representative coming to their door, they hide in their apartment. But they'll answer surveys for Wal-Mart all day long. I don't get it.

I've decided I won't answer any more surveys. I'm done with them forever. I've even taken to filling out "other" on all necessary government, employment, and educational forms that ask about race, ethnicity, gender, marital status, and the like if I deem it's an option. If it's not, since they don't recognize sex other than male or female, I simply refuse to answer and leave it blank. It shouldn't be relevant anyway. I'm pretty sure this won't do any good, but it makes me feel a little better about it.