Lemme tell you a little story about how I was welcoming students to the studio. I saw a car pull in a parking spot and seconds later a big truck hauling portable toilets sped in and screeched to a halt. The potty truck driver jumped out and rushed over to the car and started yelling at the driver through a quarter cracked window (don’t ever lower your window to engage with your attacker, dumbass). I watched first to see if a few profanities would satisfy potty truck and he’d be on his way, but when I saw him continue to yell and gesticulate, I decided to intercede. Now, let me tell you there were no less than 3 grown men and 2 women right there on the premises witnessing this whole scene. Did anyone even twitch a muscle to go out and deescalate the situation? Everyone just stood around jaw agape as I marched outside and assertively yelled to hysterical potty driver “Sir, is there a problem? Sir, this is private property. Do I need to call the police?” Then I loudly ordered the others to take photos and write the phone number and company name off his truck. Defeated, potty truck retreated, and I pulled the shaken student (a six foot tall middle aged white dude) into the studio.
After everything calmed down, the women were all, “You’re badass” blah blah. I’m not badass, and I’m not bragging. This type shit will surely get me shot one day, but I’m no weak ass bitch. I can’t stand the sight of injustice, violence, or bullying and I won’t standby idly. The three guys standing around silently, they are cowards. They know it. I know it. It was plain as pie today.
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.
Recently, I worked with two people who possess selfish and annoying qualities. The first one is a flake. She wants to have meetings all the time. In this group, it takes 15 back and forth emails to schedule a mutually-convenient time and place for everyone. Then she routinely cancels citing some dire (but in actuality not at all emergent) need to be with her kids. She was almost an hour late to one of the three most important days of her job. The reason? She was so tired she just “crashed” the night before and then realized she had no gas on the way to work. In my universe, neither are reasonable justifications for such serious lateness. Her conduct is irresponsible, unprofessional, and annoying. I don’t give a fuck about your kid’s pageant or any of that familial bullshit. Spare me those sort of personal details in your excuse. The reason you are bailing on a scheduled meeting has no bearing on the outcome of that decision – namely that now we all need to go through the tedious rescheduling process because of you – a meeting you insisted on in the first place.
The other one is a new breed: an Uber Dick. An Uber Dick is a person who wants to schedule all activities in close proximity to himself because he sold his car and now depends solely on Uber for transportation. Don’t shift the burden of your transportation on to me, buddy. This is the same dick who brags about the economy of going Uber. Yeah Uber Dick, it’s a real money-saving strategy to use your Uber account to manipulate everyone into driving to you.
I admire people who can take feedback with grace. ‘Bout the only feedback I can tolerate is on a Sonic Youth record. Recently I completed leadership of a program. I wanted to know what my students really thought, so I gave them free rein on providing me feedback. I said “take out a blank piece of paper and write anything you think I should know about my performance or the program.” I left the room. I had one student collect all the reviews and put them in an envelope.
I stared at that envelope for a week before I had the courage to open it. I was sure that because I was hard on them – would you have pegged me as a pusher? – that they would be equally hard on me. In all fairness, I should be willing to eat the the brutal honesty I so often serve others.Turns out I worried for nothing. The reviews are overwhelmingly positive. 99% of the students understand why I pushed. I’ve learned to accept that I always provoke an angry 1% in any room I enter. That’s just part of my charm. Can’t win ’em all.
Ugh, I went to a holiday party tonight. It was work-related and therefore somewhat obligatory. I’m really grateful to the woman who welcomed me into her home and makes me feel a valuable part of her business, so please don’t take the following rant as ingratitude. I suck so much at small talk at these parties. What the fuck do you talk about? I ask about the kids. I ask about work. I ask about holiday plans. I intently listen, but I never get comfortable. I always feel ill at ease. I know; this is why people drink. I don’t drink and drive at all, and don’t drink at work functions, so no social lubricant for me. I stayed just shy of 90 minutes. I had probably 10 conversations, 3 of them meaty. I’m pretty sure I offended someone in one of those conversations. I was definitely awkward in another. And in the last I had to do all the conversational heavy-lifting. All three were tedious, and now I feel tired. If I’m honest, the night peaked with delicious cheese and crackers and the M&M bowl. Sidenote: Can we stop with the mini cupcakes? They’re as dry and flavorless as my lame party chat.
A number of you attempted to make a roux (fat+flour sauce base) this weekend. Some of you started to add flour to the warm milk and butter and it clumped up like gummy balls. Others experienced grittiness. Most of us have a snap style mesh ball tea infuser rattling around inside a drawer. Try adding the flour using the mesh ball infuser. For instance, if you are making mac-n-cheese with a Béchamel (milk+butter+flour), fill the infuser with flour and gently tap the infuser against the side of the pan to disperse a gentle dusting. No clumps. Need an even sprinkle of powdered sugar on cookies? Try administering the sweet sugarfrost with the infuser. Sifters can be unwieldy, with an infuser you better control the mess. Making a meringue or angel food cake? This is a great technique for adding sugar without collapsing your eggy fluff.
Say My Name ∴ Peking Duk
Psycho Killer (Acoustic) ◊ Talking Heads
Hold on to Your Friends ∇ Morrissey
The Answer ∗ Trentemøller remix UNKLE
I Know ⇔ Fiona Apple
As many of you know, I’m a yoga teacher. Whatever, roll your eyes. This one dude has been sporadically coming to my class for a couple years. He’s nice enough, I guess; albeit a little clingy. He’s always trying to hug. (Stop hugging your yoga teacher. We don’t want to hug everybody.) Recently, he’s been pressing me to have an “evening tea with him.” He’s married and his wife is out of the country on the front side of relocating the family. So the wife takes the kids to Europe to get settled, and the chubby little skeeze of a husband hits on his yoga teacher. Fucking Gross. I tried to just dust him off, but he keeps coming back with pressured persistence. Asshole, I’m not going to participate in your piggish fuckery. I am not going to carry on with you in a way that disrespects your wife. I decline to create the appearance of impropriety or compromise my character, dickwad Do not be naively drawn into these nefarious shenanigans under false pretenses, folks. He’s really trying to fuck. They’re always trying to fuck.
Here’s a puzzler: Why is Glamour magazine naming Caitlyn fucking Jenner “Woman of the Year” when Caitlyn Jenner hasn’t even been living as a woman for a full year? What does Caitlyn Jenner know about the struggle of womanhood? Has Caitlyn Jenner ever endured menstrual cramps? Fuck no. Has Caitlyn Jenner ever been paid less for equal work because of her vagina? Hell no. When Caitlyn Jenner walks alone at night is she afraid she’s going to be raped? I doubt it very seriously. Transgender poster girl, maybe. Woman of the year? Well that’s just an insult to those of us who haven’t lived with the benefit of affluent, white, male, privilege for the last 65 years. Eat a dick, Glamour, you traitorous rag!