How Rude!

It's official. Travel + Leisure magazine has dubbed Washington, DC one of the rudest cities in America (#3). As you can imagine, we are all so proud. Actually, I don't think anyone here cares that much.

If you study the list you'll find that, with a few exceptions, the top 20 rudest cities in America are the top 20 largest cities in America. This actually makes sense to me when examining the characteristics of a city. I believe the main contributing factor is lifestyle pace. Cities, by nature, tend to be more hectic and more rushed. We simply don't have time to worry about a silly little thing like a rudeness survey.

As part of this lifestyle where most things are hurried, conversations are no exception. Directions, advice and short conversations are done with the same abrupt efficiency as, say, walking down the street to arrive at work on time or quickly procuring money from an ATM. For people who hail from smaller cities, it might seem normal to say hello to everyone on the street. However, in larger cities, greeting the hundreds or even thousands of people who pass by on a daily basis would be downright maddening and exhausting. It's not rude to avoid such a practice, it's merely self preservation.

This is definitely rude. Do not emulate this granny.

I think another problem is the definition of what is considered rude. For instance, unnecessarily mocking a person, rolling eyes or refusing to answer an inquiry definitely constitutes rude behavior. But choosing not to go out of one's way to start up or continue a conversation isn't necessarily rude. Ignoring a person who is talking to you while clicking away on your cell phone: rude. Not starting up conversations with random people on the train so you can click on your cell phone: not rude. Granted, DC does house an unusually large contingent of overly educated, overly egotistical people. Arrogance, in and of itself, is not necessarily rude. Off-putting? Yes. Rude? It depends. Scoffing at a visitor and acting like they should already know the answers to their own questions... well, that type of arrogance is definitely unacceptable. Merely not making time to begin a conversation with a visitor because you feel there are better ways to spend your time? While annoying and self serving, this is not necessarily rude. I think we can all picture flagrant examples of rudeness, but also some borderline examples. It's time to ignore the borderline.

Should I be concerned that people's rudeness in DC doesn't seem as glaring to me as it used to? Truly, I feel like I've encountered fewer genuinely rude people here than in Miami (#2 on the list) when I lived there (prime examples of rudeness: twice I saw disabled people fall in Miami and nobody helped but me. There were actually people laughing). I remember one time when I had lived in Miami for less than a year and then went back to visit my family in Milwaukee. Someone started talking to my mom and me while we were in line at the grocery store. Not just idle chit chat, but a significant conversation. Upon her first turning around and addressing us with the conversation-starting question, I recoiled and gave a bit of an odd look. Once my mother and I were safely outside she recommended that I take my guard down because not everyone was trying to scam, harrass or insult me. I couldn't believe how a few months in a place where it's common to hurl snippy comments at strangers had made such a thick skin form that I couldn't instantly recognize a nice conversation with a stranger. People visiting a larger city should remember this story and realize that once the protective wall is up, it can be tricky to take it down on a whim.

Another part of the problem in the DC area is the enormous contingent of transplants from stereotypically "nice" areas such as the South or the Midwest. Going from any overly friendly place to one that is less so will naturally give a bit of a jolt. Most of the people I've met from the South or Midwest (myself included) genuinely do take an interest in the people they're talking to, instead of exhibiting the stereotypical DC trait of only talking to someone to find out what they can do for you. Bringing together people from the friendlier areas of the country and mixing them with people from less touchy-feely areas like the East Coast can make for an unusual melting pot in which the ingredients don't always blend together as expected.

It's important to remember that different people thrive better in different environments. That is why there are so many different lifestyles, cities and towns of different sizes and different people who live there. There's nothing wrong with living at a slower pace, just like there's nothing wrong with running around all day without seeking out human interaction at every turn.

It's OK, and encouraged, to hang up the phone.

Perhaps we all should cut each other some slack. City dwellers, how about hanging up that cell phone and taking a few extra seconds for the visitors (and each other!) without a biting comment? Tourists and newcomers to the city, how about not expecting a huge smile and fulfilling conversation from everybody you pass? Let's take others' unique qualities into consideration and form a truce. Oh, and that also means no more under-the-breath comments about city people being "pushy as$%&*es" or people from smaller towns being "backwards hicks." Let's take just a moment to work this all out... because this post has already been too long for us annoying, rude "city folks," and we don't have any more than a moment to spare.

Reality Used to Be a Friend of Mine

Ahhhh, January. It's a new year, with new goals. Sadly, it's also a time for new, cringe-worthy reality television. Blech, with the cold and the bad reality TV, January really is the worst month of the year.

I have never really enjoyed reality TV. I use television as an occasional escape, and I want my escapes to be well planned. I have tried and tried over the years, but I do not like this type of programming. In fact, watching this so-called "unscripted" television really makes me angry. Why? Because it's becoming dumber by the second and makes me lose faith in America.

OK, so when I was younger and more drawn to drama, I did actually watch "The Real World," which I consider the original reality program. But as I grew older (as in, I turned 23) I developed a distaste for such drama and stopped watching. The drama that used to be on "The Real World" has been fully surpassed by the current shows.

Why do people like this trashy, orange train wreck?

I took pride in never having watched "Jersey Shore" until spending the weekend with a friend who is obsessed with it and then forced me to sit through a marathon. I do not exaggerate when I say I get so frustrated at the stupidity of the characters that I inevitably end up yelling at the TV. This is repeatable every single time, without fail. How is yelling at the TV the relaxing escape I'm looking for? The fact that the cast members sleep with so many other dirty individuals that Valtrex was popped like candy actually makes me shudder. The thought of accidental procreation by people on "Jersey Shore" should scare us all. These thoughts and others only produce more yelling at the TV, then make me curl up and start rocking in the corner while saying over and over, "Snooki makes baby Jesus cry."

My brother-in-law is a fan of "The Bachelor." He claims the best part is during the final weeks of the series when the bachelor goes on date after date with ridiculously attractive women. Says the brother-in-law, "You know he's banging all these women at once, and they actually seem hurt when they don't get picked. And the TV network applauds it. That's entertainment." OK, I can sort of see why that would be amusing to watch. It's not as awful, in my opinion, as "Jersey Shore," but disturbs me, nevertheless.

A "Pretty Woman" hooker outfit? That's just wrong. 

We've morphed into a warped society that enjoys watching trash like "Toddlers and Tiaras." Really? This is what it takes to entertain us now? I had never even heard of this horrific show until my mother-in-law stumbled across it and said it was such a disturbing train wreck she couldn't turn away. I briefly checked it out but was certainly able to turn away. My disgust for this program knows no bounds. It's one thing to watch fully grown adults make fools of themselves for all to see, but to watch little girls pimped on TV for some sort of odd, short-lived fame is gross. To force children under 10 to show their tummies or booties to judges to score extra points is reprehensible. How is this not a milder form of child porn? And what about the mom who gives her daughter "go-go juice" during pageants to help her perform better? Or the countless moms who force their little girls to get eyebrows plucked and teeth capped for aesthetic purposes? How is this not child abuse? Yet we not only ignore the awful things done to these children, it's actually celebrated as a form of entertainment. If we saw parents performing some of these actions in everyday life instead of on television, many of us would likely inform child protective services and try to have the kids relocated to a more nurturing environment. But the safety net of TV protects these parents and their heinous acts.

When confronted with accusations about watching such trash, I find many people get defensive and blame the networks. I hear people say all the time, "Well I just watch it because it's on. If it weren't on, I wouldn't watch it." Guess what, people? If you don't watch it, it won't be on! Working in the TV news industry, I can assure you that everything is done for ratings and revenue. Reality show producers don't care about you or the people they exploit to make "good TV." They care about creating the most over-the-top show that will cause people to sit with mouths agape, unable to change the channel. If people stopped watching, ratings would plummet and these shows would be canceled, I promise you. Remember such ill-fated shows as "Cavemen," which was deemed so abysmal it only made it through something like three episodes? This could be awful reality shows!

Think about it, it my last post, I talked about taking down the Kardashians and plunging them into obscurity. There was quite an outpouring of support for that idea from readers. Yet, that dysfunctional family has enough followers that they manage to pull in contracts for TV shows time and time again. Stop watching them and send a message! Don't fall victim to the dumbing down of society, America!

I know my words will fall on many deaf ears because it's incredibly difficult to give up a habit, even if said habit is simply flipping on trashy reality TV. However, I vow to be a part of the solution, not the problem. I will continue to boycott all forms of sensational reality TV shows. Hopefully a few others will join me and we can start a revolution that will force television producers to actually do some work and earn their inflated paychecks by coming up with well-written entertainment.

Doomsday, Shmoomsday

The world is going to end this year, just before Christmas! Panic! That's the claim from scholars freaks who buy into the ancient Mayan calendar. Except, maybe that's not exactly what the the calendar said after all. This week it came out that years of interpreting and re-interpreting Mayan beliefs may have muddled the facts and nothing actually points to an apocalyptic event.

I don't tend to buy into doomsday preaching, but I do actually ponder the end of the world. Therefore, just in case my skepticism is falsely waged and the apocalypse will indeed occur this year, I think I need to get crackin' on my seemingly ever-growing bucket list. It appears I'm going to have a wild and crazy year, but it'll be worth it in the end.

Things to do before the 2012 apocalypse, in no particular order:
-Open my own beach-themed bar. It will be so fantastic that everyone will claim all other bars in the DC metro area pale by comparison and should shut down. The bar will have a strict "no jackasses allowed" policy, with the measure of jackassery being determined on the fly by yours truly.

-Buy every single pair of shoes I see that I deem cute, no matter what the cost. This should occur at a rate of at least one pair per day. A woman can never have too many pairs of shoes. Plus, I want to look my best for the end of the world. I don't want to be immortalized for all of eternity in a pair of gross, beaten up flip flops.

-Take up bank robbing. If the world's going to end anyway, there's no reason NOT to attempt accumulating massive amounts of money for my adventures. After being forced to write at work about the stupid antics of countless bank robbers over the years, I feel like I might be able to pull off a heist or two by learning from others' mistakes. Plus, there's been a spate of these crimes in my neighborhood recently with very few perps getting caught, so I think I have a fighting chance.

The Kardashians. They. Must. Go.

-Silence the Kardashians. Upon acquiring all that bank robbery cash, I will then have more money and be more powerful than the Kardashians. Plus, I will be "up and coming" and we all know how Americans love the newest, freshest famous face. I will use my fame to force the Kardashians into submission, or perhaps deport them to a remote island where there are no cameras, there's no communication to the outside world, and from which they cannot escape. They've been tarnishing the image of Armenians for years (along with Cher), so I need to do what I can to redeem it.

-Buy the NBA. This may seem rather odd, but there's method to my madness. The NBA in its current form sucks. I loved it back in the 1990s, but the poor attitudes of players, lack of effort by players and lack of officiating have left me bitter. I was hoping last year's lockout would stick and the NBA would be forced to shut down. Because it didn't, I would like to buy the entire organization with the intent of dissolving it for the good of humanity. I will do this with the proceeds from my aforementioned bank robbing sprees.

Taco Bell all the time? Yes, please.

-Buy a house with an exposed basement and build a Taco Bell inside of it. I don't know why, but I have always loved the idea of a home with an expansive, exposed basement that opens into a lush backyard. I also have a not-so-small affinity for Taco Bell, to the extent that I imposed a rule that I may only consume it once a month. (Don't judge, we all have our fast food weaknesses.) I would like to combine the two joys such that I may scarf Taco Bell (freshly made by an around-the-clock employee) at my leisure, and then pop outside for a jog to run off the calories.

-Go on a date with Adam Sandler. Sure, we're both married, and sure, he's on a bit of a comedic decline, but that's not going to stop me. This has been a goal since my teenage years, so I might as well fulfill the dream if I'm going to die this year anyway.

Bad idea? Wait until you see what's going to make me rich.

-Invent and market a ridiculous household item that will be sold on infomercials or in "As Seen on TV" stores at the mall. The product will be mocked by people around the world but I won't care because even if people are buying the products as a joke, I'm the one laughing all the way to the bank. Chia Pet. Snuggie. Shake Weight. And now the "Forever Lazy" which is basically a body-Snuggie with zippered hatches that allow the user to easily use the restroom. They're all crazy stupid ideas that have made someone rich. I'm coming up with the next Forever Lazy.

-Become a member of a kick-ass band, preferably the Foo Fighters. I have always loved music, as mentioned in previous posts, and have said countless times that I'll come back as a musician in my next life. Considering I received a guitar for my birthday a month ago, there's no reason I can't make it happen in this lifetime... which apparently has to be by December. Dave Grohl is a musical genius but I think it's time he takes on a female sidekick.

I'm sure there are many things that will end up on this list as the year progresses, but I think for only having about 11 months left to accomplish my goals, this is a decent start. I'm also accepting suggestions of other goals that are similar in nature. Anyone who wants to assist with my missions is welcome to join. Particularly in taking down the Kardashians. I think there are countless people who would share in my glee of that one.

The Price of Partying

New Year's Eve is upon us. That time of year when some people scramble trying to find the hippest, most fun party option in an attempt to erase all that sucked during the past 12 months and end the year on a high note. For others, it's a night to cross their arms as tightly as possible over their chests, put on the surliest face imaginable, and chastise anyone who goes out for buying into the over-hyped disappointment that New Year's Eve will inevitably become. I find myself more in the middle of these two extremes.

I do enjoy a good NYE outing, but it's not the be-all-and-end-all of events. Some of my favorite NYE memories have included chill nights playing board games and sipping champagne. But considering I like going out in general, it would make sense that I enjoy a good NYE bash. There is, however, one major problem: I'm a cheap-ass and NYE bashes (particularly in the DC area) can cost an arm and a leg.

I blame restaurants and bars for the sour attitudes of so many people on NYE, due to grossly inflated prices. These costs push many people into the belief that going out for NYE just isn't worth it. For restaurants, it's really not necessary to double the price of a meal, tack on a dessert and claim that constitutes a "special menu." For bars, the all-you-can-drink option is great, but $95 for that privilege is a bit outlandish. Sure, there are some recent college grads who likely will drink that $95 worth and then some, but I believe such a feat is rare, especially for someone of my vintage.

Even more frustrating than the already inflated prices is the fact that each year the price seems to rise at a disgusting rate. Many of the top NYE events in DC last year started at $120 (!!) and this year started at $140, increasing as the day grows closer. I highly doubt that enough has been added over last year, or that costs have skyrocketed so exponentially, that another $20 is required from each of the hundreds of people in attendance.

Think you'll get $140 worth at this packed party? Doubtful.

Along with the frustration of crazy costs, it's disturbing to witness how little some places include with the price. Some venues simply charge a cover because they can, and don't even offer anything additional than what they do on a typical night. Plus, to pay crazy amounts and receive a measly 3 drink tickets and some paltry appetizers that run out after an hour is ludicrous. And if you really think that champagne toast is going to be worth it, think again. Many places are so packed you'll be lucky to simply get close to the area where the champagne is being handed out. Heck, you might be lucky to get served three times that night with the number of people crammed around the bar. All-you-can-drink for $140? And you only managed to get your hands on three drinks? I think you just got ripped off, my friend. For $140 I can hop on a plane and fly somewhere, which will be far more fulfilling than watching drunk, skanky women and frat boy types becoming overly inebriated such that they might have the courage to steal a midnight kiss from some unsuspecting guest.

I know some of you reading this will probably chalk up the ridiculous prices to my location, claiming "Of course it's expensive, it's DC." I agree that the area is definitely expensive, but not enough to warrant that kind of pricing. I promise you such inflation occurs everywhere, and I'm imploring the people who perpetuate the problem to bring it to an end.

Don't force it and end up like this drunken mess on NYE.

Imagine how much happier we would be if we didn't force ourselves to get the most out of our money that one night a year, thus drinking/eating far too much. When forced to consume such quantities in such a short amount of time, it's no wonder so many people end up a bloated, mascara-smeared, droopy eyed drunken mess. The black out which follows the copious amounts of drinking will undoubtedly cause even more irritation the next day when the person realizes s/he paid $140 and can't even remember what transpired at the party. (Example: "OMG did I get the midnight kiss from that hot guy? No?! You're telling me I passed out with my skirt around my waist, butt sticking out, hair looking like a rat's nest and makeup looking like Alice Cooper? And it cost me $140? Fail!")

I think it would alleviate so much stress surrounding the holiday if more fun, affordable options presented themselves. Right now, far too many of the no-cover or affordable options don't really do much, if anything, to celebrate NYE. I'm sure there has to be some way to put together a party environment without charging obscene entry fees. I'm not asking for a blow-out gala, but $20 for three drinks, some tasty appetizers and music would be fantastic. Plus, if the night went south and I had an awful time, that $20 wouldn't pain me nearly as much as $140 flushed down the pooper.

While I really think the cost plays a huge factor in people's disappointment with NYE, I also think part of the problem is setting unreasonable expectations. Feeling forced to have fun is frustrating, so do what works for you personally. If that's staying in your jammies and drinking champagne, do it. If it's going out to the local dive bar and drinking some High Life (the Champagne of Beers) at midnight, so be it. And if it means heading out somewhere to shake your booty, that's fine too. But whatever you decide, I'd very highly recommend boycotting the ridiculously priced bashes that will do nothing but leave you, and your wallet, feeling empty.

Monkeying Around

For what I believe is the fifth year in a row, I am asking for just one thing for Christmas: a golden lion tamarin. For the fifth year in a row, I likely will not receive one.

When I tell people about my Christmas wish, I get a lot of weird looks and scoffs. But seriously, how can you resist this little guy?? It's the same as asking for a puppy, so I really don't see the issue.

Personally, I've been wishing for a "helper monkey" for some time. It's a pet and a helper all in one. Is there something on the high shelf I can't reach? Golden lion can hop up there and grab it. An itch I can't reach on my back? Not a challenge for little monkey hands. I'm too lazy to get up and grab food from the fridge? Little guy can fetch something for me.

Don't worry, I wouldn't abuse the privilege of having such a wonderful companion. Any time he would bring me food, he'd be allowed to snack on the treats as well, of course. Maybe I'd even let him have a sip or two of beer. I want us to enjoy our time together, not have an indentured servant. Plus, I don't want to overwork the monkey and have it turn on me. Thinking about that always reminds me of an episode of "Malcom in the Middle" when Craig was injured and got a helper monkey to wait on him night and day. He didn't love the little guy, only demanded things from it, and the monkey snapped. After unsuccessfully trying to poison Craig, the following mayhem ensued. Have a look, and please ignore the dubbing over in Spanish, I couldn't find an English version. However, I think the monkey's anger comes through loud and clear. All he wants is a little love:

Sure, go ahead, act as though you're better than me. The reality of it is you probably experienced a moment at some point recently wishing you had more contact with monkeys. Whether or not you want to admit it, humans love monkeys. Granted, we typically love animals in general, which is why the pet industry is a multi-billion dollar market in America. But there's some sort of special draw to monkeys. They're cute, often have sweet personalities (except for psycho monkey above) and on some level they probably remind us of our primate roots.

Having a monkey for a pet would be fantastic for a number of reasons, but a huge one is that I wouldn't even have to take him outside, he could use the bathroom once he's potty trained. You know you'd love to visit me and have the little fur ball cuddle up next to you... or maybe even massage your shoulders. What puppy can do that?

Despite the poor odds, I'm still holding out hope that I'll find a little golden lion tamarin squirming in my Christmas stocking. If I'm denied yet again, I hope you all will feel badly for me and take up a collection to purchase one for me. Hey, it could happen.

The Great Divide

Ahhh, panties. Few items have been so loved throughout history as these tiny pieces of fabric. But as of late, they've been causing me some distress. Not my own, mind you, but others'. In the past couple weeks as pants and winter skirts are replacing flowing summer sundresses, I have witnessed far too many women falling victim to the unfortunate phenomenon I will call "cut butt."

If you're having trouble figuring out what I'm talking about, stay with me here. The "cut butt" occurs when women wear form fitting clothing and then panties that slice through the middle of their butt. This creates a less-than-attractive line at best, and the illusion of having four cheeks at worst. See the picture below for a more accurate representation of what I'm talking about.

Ladies, c'mon. Nobody likes this.

While initially it may appear that this is a malady only very large people would encounter while wearing small underwear, that is not the case. Sadly, everyone can fall victim to cut butt, no matter how thin or muscular. As you can tell, the lady in the picture above is slight, but still suffers from cut butt due to making a questionable clothing decision before leaving the house. Sporting a cut butt makes any person look larger than she is.

Suffering from the cut butt is one of my fears. I'm sure I've disgusted people with it on a few occasions, but I do my best not to walk around in public looking like this. As odd as it may sound, I nearly always do a "butt check" before leaving the house to ensure I'm not rockin' multiple-cheek action.

I know I previously wrote a blog about being less judgmental, and I'd like to go on record as saying I'm not judging, I'm trying to help. I actually feel badly for women who have the cut butt because they clearly don't realize what's going on back there, and would likely be horrified at the rear view they're providing. I'm simply offering a friendly public service announcement.

Thank you, Victoria's Secret.

This whole problem actually can be alleviated quite easily. It's through the use of a handy little item called the thong. I know some people are reluctant to delve into the realm of thongs for fear of how it feels. However, it's really not uncomfortable like you would think. I believe it's at least worth a try when you consider the alternative of walking around with a cut butt. The other option is going out to buy larger sizes of underwear and clothes, but nobody wants to buy larger sized clothes. I'm just trying to save your pride and money.

I know some middle-aged and older women (and sometimes younger women, too) often have a mental block about the thong due to skanky images it may conjure. To these people I would advise the following: take a deep breath, realize that nobody else will know you're wearing a thong, and take the plunge. This fashion wonder has become so commonplace it's really not an item that should be considered intimidating anymore. 

OK fine, maybe you're still not convinced about the wonders of the thong. That's fine, but then you're going to have to devise your own solution to the cut butt problem. All I'm asking is that you take a backward glance in the mirror before going out of the house so you don't end up looking like something's getting strangled in your pants. If you don't do this for yourself, please do it for me, so I don't have to cringe and be embarrassed for you for ruining such a fine derriere. 

International Delight

It's pretty common knowledge that I love a good deal. I believe one of my first posts was about seeking out freebies. I've discovered that some of the best places in town to get greatly discounted groceries are the international markets. They not only have incredibly reasonable produce, but also an enormous variety of veggies not found at any other stores.

If you don't have one of these places near you, perhaps you're picturing an outdoor farmers market. However, I'm referring to indoor supermarkets dedicated almost solely to international foods. In my area, there is "H Mart" and "Grand Mart", both of which are largely Asian, with Hispanic and Middle Eastern foods thrown in as well. I've found that shopping at these places is like shopping at Marshall's... some of them are phenomenal and others have sub-par goods and emit nauseating smells. Still, I pursue them for their unusual goods.

I love cooking and I love exhibiting diversity in my cooking, but it can sometimes prove difficult to find more exotic ingredients. Some of my "ethnic" cookbooks are so authentic that I have to fill in the blanks to figure out what they're talking about. Therefore, you can imagine the contorted face I make when reading some lesser known ingredients. That is, lesser known until I step into the fabled international store.

In addition to more commonly used items like sesame oil, soba noodles, black fungus, rice vinegar and various dumplings, I like going to these stores to be surprised. There are many, many obscure items I have never seen the likes of in my typical American supermarkets. Take this next vegetable, for instance. The sign said it's "Indian bitter melon." You're actually supposed to eat the bumpy skin and all, according to Wikipedia. It has the consistency of a cucumber, but is very bitter and gets more bitter while it ages. Hmmm. I'm thinkin' no on the weird bitter veggies.

Fun to look at, but that's about it for me.

The one use that actually made sense to me was that the bitter melon is sometimes used in place of hops when making some types of beer. Being that I don't yet make my own beer, I'm still going to pass on this veggie.

There are a lot of items that I can't figure out the contents of, and the foreign character writing doesn't help. It's not even the same alphabet, by any stretch of the imagination, so it's not as though I can attempt to sound it out or find the root of the word. At times, I've tried asking people working at the store for assistance. That is an adventure in itself and can be met with a nice answer, or the often encountered alternative of a blank stare. I also get a lot of smiles and nods with no actual answer. When that's the case, I've turned to total avoidance. Otherwise I end up with potentially sketchy things like this:

Is it mustard? Curry?  Liquified animal?

I applaud more adventurous people who might buy such items and experiment with them. However, I just can't bring myself to do it. Seeing all the fish parts and chicken feet in the store, I can't stomach spending money on something I'll take one whiff of and throw out. And believe me, you should not take whiffs of some of these things because you will throw them out. I know they often taste delicious when cooked with other foods, but the raw materials are enough to turn my stomach. The amount of dried seafood and animal parts is mind boggling. Anyway, check out the next picture. It very well could be sliced horse testicles for all I know, so I must stay away from it.

Stay very far away from "mystery meat."

This also goes for any item that has a very brief description in English which really isn't too descriptive. I don't care how tasty that bag of frozen dumplings looks, if the English words underneath all the characters simply say "meat dumpling" I'm walking away. Exactly what kind of meat is in that package? Sometimes I really don't want to know, so I stick with my familiar chicken (which probably isn't the same "parts" I'm used to eating, anyway. Let's ignore that.).

Some of my favorites are the English words on seemingly normal items. They don't even seem unusual... until you take a closer look and discover that one teeny element got lost in translation.

I wonder what THIS tastes like.

I'd encourage everyone to take a whirl through some unfamiliar supermarkets, particularly those catering to immigrants and lovers of imported foods. I know the movement right now is to eat locally and I definitely respect that, too. But there's a wealth of learning at our local supermarkets that many people overlook. Be warned--these places tend to be madhouses on the weekends so going during off hours is preferable. But then again, dodging carts like bumper cars as people of various ethnicities gesture wildly and yell in their native languages is kind of half the fun. They sometimes seem creeped out as I stare at the unidentified items in their carts, but hey, I'm trying. Maybe one day I'll be feasting on that spicy cock soup with chicken feet, dried fish balls and spikey-skinned vegetables. Until then (if that day EVER comes), I'll just stick with my jicama, tahini and kaffir lime leaves.