the Diva Platform

Whoa, wait a second…..next week is June?  Already?  What the heck happened here?

Suddenly I’m in panic mode…feeling behind in a lot of things, so-so on other things, but mostly I’m in this great flux of feeling like I didn’t quite pick the right fork in the road and I’m now on a journey that I didn’t quite imagine this year being.

True, nobody can really plan out how a year is going to go (and this year’s been a doozy), but I don’t think that other circumstances should totally be responsible for me feeling like I’m off-track with my career.  That’s mostly the reason I feel this way–oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m doing some interesting stuff and I am making progress, but I’m not sure I’m making any real progress in the type of writing that I quit a good job (with benefits) for.  That’s what’s really getting me.

Last year I’d been pretty good at following some of the advice from Getting Your Shit Together, but I can’t remember the last time I’ve looked at my goals and objectives and really made progress in that area.  I’ve felt more of an “Oooooh!  Shiny!” feel toward writing, which has mostly helped me acquire piles of paper I don’t want hanging out on my desk and made me feel like I’m going nowhere fast.

So I’m in a bit of a mess.  Again.  It’s just about June, and I have to, HAVE to reel it back in and try again.  Not fun, but I have to do it.

What about you?  Were there things you thought you’d do by now?  How’s the calendar creeping up on you?

Last week at the All Candy Expo, I met a woman who had a new product called Flax Supersnax.  The product is pretty interesting–a flavored flax food-topper that allows you to add fiber to your food.  I thought it was tasty–it’s similar to adding wheat germ to a bowl of cereal.  When I was a kid, I loved wheat germ–would eat it by the spoonful.  This stuff?  They’ve got garlic and Mediterranean blends that would be great on salads or maybe meat. I’ve yet to try the sweeter blends.

Anyway, the president of the company is named Tami Smith.  I know a Tami Smith!  Totally different Tami, but same spelling on the name and everything!  Small world!

Usually I’d say something, but that’s a conversation that gets awkward pretty quickly:

Me:  I know a Tami Smith too!

Her:  Really?  Same spelling?

Me:  Yep!

Her:  Wow!  That’s……interesting.  (while thinking:  (a) Who cares?  (b) We can’t be anything alike.  (c) What if this Tami is worse/better than me?)

Awkward pause.

Me:  Well, um, nice product!  (and I sneak away)

Whenever I’ve Googled myself, I’ve only ever found me, so I’m fairly sure I’m the only “Jill Jaracz” out there.  I don’t quite understand what it’s like having a name that a bunch of other people have.  I understand having a hard-to-pronounce name, yes, but since I’ve never really met anyone with my name, I don’t quite know what it’s like.  Is it cool?  Is it annoying?  When you have a common name, do records and mail get messed up a lot?  Do they do anything interesting?  Are they lame?  Do you feel like you’re part of a club of people?  Do you ever wish there was a get-together of all the people you have your name so you could meet all of your doppelgangers?  Or do you wish they’d all go away and you could be the only one?

Ugh.  I’m having one of those periods where I really don’t like looking in the mirror.  Oh, it’s not because I’ve gained a bunch of weight (though having a lot of tasty BBQ food over the long weekend didn’t help…and that was after last week’s massive eating fest, after which I’m still not really back to regular eating habits).  It’s because I need some work done.

Haircuts I’m fairly regular with.  It’s more my eyebrows and face.  I could seriously use an eyebrow wax.  My face also feels like it’s like those new Brooke Shields Coppertone Nutrashield print ads, where you can take a UV light (or something like that) and see the massive sun damage on your face.  The crow’s feet and wrinkles….oy!

The problem is choosing what to buy with my money–or, more like the little money I do have.  Eyebrow waxes now come few and far between because I’d really rather spend that $15 on beer or going out with friends.  Same for facial soap and moisturizers (not to mention trying to figure out what kinds of products to actually buy because I really don’t want to spend money on the wrong products).

I know it’s important to take care of myself, but for some reason I’ve never been a maintenance girl–one of those girls who buys lots of beauty products and spends a lot of time on hair, makeup, and cleansing rituals.  One who looks effortlessly put together.  One who also has a closet full of clothes and shoes and wouldn’t be freaking out about not having any decent black dress shoes because she’d already have a spare pair.  One who isn’t going to play “How noticeable is the stain on this blouse? Because I’d like to wear it for another season if I could.”

Sadly, it doesn’t look like I’ll get to a better maintenance level any time soon, given the cost involved.  I guess I just need to acquire a little bit of feel-good-from-the-inside, which will make everything else seem a little less significant.  That is, unless you whip out a black light and see the damage on my skin.

Yesterday was the 46th annual WOOGMS Memorial Day Parade, which is a fun way to celebrate the day (along with drinking and barbecuing).  Once again, the Boy pulled out his stilts for the ~3/4 mile parade through the neighborhood.  It adds a little something to the day, and sometimes the parents of kids seem more excited about the guy on stilts than the kids do.

One of these parents was a really nice lady who was trying to juggle a big baby jogging stroller along with a girl on a push-bike.  Sometimes the girl would remember to pedal.  Sometimes the mom would have to reach over and push her out of the Boy’s way, usually with a reminder to not get in “Mr. Stilts’” way.

At one point she was really struggling with trying to be in a couple places at once, so I pushed the girl in the bike for a little ways, and the mom ended up calling me Mrs. Stilts, which I found to be quite funny.  It sort of seems like the Boy and I suddenly became super-spies:  Mr. & Mrs. Stilts: Catching criminals from 8 feet.

Maybe it could work–you never know!

Last night the Boy and I were walking home, and we saw a few groups of people going out to drink.  It’s Memorial Day weekend, after all, and although for some it’s a way to honor our troops and the dead, for others it’s an extra day to go out and party.

The Boy mentioned as much, and it’s true.  American holidays have become all about eating and drinking.  Have a barbeque, pop a cold one.  We like to use any excuse we can to party, even if the occasion is not necessarily a holiday.  Years ago, not that many people in the US celebrated Cinco de Mayo, and now it’s an excuse to go have a margarita.  Mardi Gras?  Huge party.  St. Patrick’s Day?  Even bigger drinking fest.

It makes one wonder what’s next.  Champagne on Martin Luther King Day?  A Polish vodka company branding Casimir Pulaski Day?

Or maybe we could all just take a moment and remember why we’re celebrating in the first place.  Heck, I’ll even drink to that.

After spending five days going to two conventions, I’m a bit tuckered out.  Sometimes I wonder how sales reps go from show to show, managing their booth, but then they have the people coming to them, not the other way around.  Still, they’re seeing hundreds or thousands of people every day, which still has to be a little bit difficult.

So, some quick observations from the All Candy Expo—I’m still in a bit of a sugar shock, so wittiness is not my forte right now:

• Total weight gained over the two shows:  2.6 lbs.  Not as much as I’d feared, which was good, considering that after day 2, I’d gained 3.2 lbs.  I ended up doing a little more walking and a little less noshing.  Doesn’t hurt that when I eat too much candy, I don’t feel so good.
• I don’t quite understand why candy-flavored sprays would be a hit with the kids, but apparently they are.
• When booths are manned by people who don’t really know the product, it’s frustrating.  I’d run into, “I don’t know, I just work here.  You’ll have to ask him (or her….or no one, for that matter),” with a big pointing gesture.  Most of the time, what I wanted to ask was trivial, so I didn’t bother to wait….I also probably won’t consider writing up these products.
• I wish the American palate wasn’t so sugar-based.  I asked the good folks at Mars why Starburst here has gelatin and doesn’t have the lovely black currant flavor you can find in Ireland.  The Starburst lady told me they did different formulas based on focus groups and local tastes.  My (and the Boy’s) taste just happens to be Irish.  Apparently the Russians like weird things.  Makes me want to find Russian Starburst now.  But seriously, there seem to be a lot of products with extra sugar in them, and I wish we’d get off that kick.  Train our palates back to something normal (and not so diabetes-inducing….seriously, if you eat a lot of stuff with a lot of hidden sugar, you’re going to be in trouble someday).
• The shows were a coming out party for a lot of new companies with new products.  I kept talking to people who hadn’t been around that long and were so hopeful about their company and the products they had.  I loved listening to their stories–some of these products are really good, and the people behind them have a ton of experience, so I hope they’re successful.

It’s been a fun, but massively tiring week.  I don’t know what’s going on in the news, I’m behind on most of the basic housework/errands.  My desk is a mess.  I’m also figuring out a little more what type of writer I am or am not and what type of writer I want to be.  Sadly, while fulfilling a couple of dreams to go to these shows, I think I took a few steps away from where I’d like to be.  Time to focus in again and get back on track.

Well, the NRA Show is over, but there’s a distinct possibility that I’ll be going to the All Candy Expo, which is another possible weight gain fiasco.  Some friends have been trying to talk me into it–”How can you not go?  Just Born will be there!” [Same friends also gave me the advice, "Jump up and down.  It'll compact what's in your stomach, and you can eat more."  Needless to say, although my eyes want me to eat more, I do not want to make a return trip to Fat Camp, so I'm refraining from jumping.  I also think the jumping might make me puke, and I don't want to test it.]

At any rate here are a few observations from the last day of the restaurant show.  More stories can be found on Gapers Block:

• Weight gain:  -.2 lbs; grand total for the show:  3.0 lbs.
• I’m amazed at how I can supposedly walk an entire exhibit floor, and with about 15 minutes left in the show, still find new booths with stories I think are interesting.
• Not one, but two companies were there selling fortune cookie tacos.
• I was only at the show for 3 hours on the last day, yet I still managed to stuff myself silly.
• I tried the kimchi quesadilla from Kogi.  While I don’t mind a couple of bites of kimchi, an entire quesadilla’s worth was a little too much.
• What does one make with pickled serrano peppers?  I now have a 27.75 oz. can of them.
• I’d love to sit in on a new product development meeting at Lamb Weston.  I seriously didn’t know a potato could be fried so many ways, nor did I know what you could stuff inside a mozzarella cheese stick breaded capsule (many many products out there that look like a cheese stick but have something other than mozzarella in them).  How do they do it?
• Pretzel bread is the best!
• Apple pie + alcohol?  Yes, please!

The digestion continues….

We’re on tape delay here at the Diva Platform….by the time you read this, the show will be over.  I imagine I will still be in a food-induced coma though, so when I come out, I will undoubtedly have a few more stories.  For now, some more tidbits:

• Weight gain on day 2:  2 lbs
• Did you feel the weight gain? Oh, yeah.
• Do you mind? Well, yes, but when someone shoves a piece of molten chocolate cake in front of you, you can’t really say no.
• Wearing a t-shirt that says, “No thanks, I’m having butter,” is a good conversation starter around foodies.
• The Korean pavilion was hopping with performances  from Nanta Theater, kind of a Blue Man Group performance minus the blue paint, plus kitchen knives and chef outfits.  Or, like someone said, it was like Chicago’s Bucket Boys.
• That said, someone (or ones) must have complained about the noise and huge crowds this drew because the second performance was really toned down (no Korean drums, just chefs with knives on cutting boards).
• Mini donuts are delicious.
• So are flavored butters.
• Testing the limits of your ability to eat spicy foods can be difficult, and starting to cry in front of the Census people due to some hot sauce can be embarrassing.
• Sparkling wine shouldn’t have almond extract in it (though it can make a bad sparkling wine palatable).
• My buddy Ludacris and I both like Nuvo.
• If a gin company tells you that their gin has a golden hue because they’re the only ones who use juniper berries, and all the clear gins use extract, your bullshit meter should go off.

As I write this, I’ve got one more day of joy (or torture, as walking around a convention hall can actually be sometimes, especially if you don’t know what to ask people about).  And maybe a couple of pounds to gain.

Since I’m going through a big food coma for a few days (which apparently involves a stab at coherent writing), I’ll give you a few tidbits that probably won’t make it to Gapers Block:

• Day 1 weight gain:  1.2 lbs.
• The education/sales pitch I got about bathroom hand driers:  Impressive
• The ex-corporate librarian fawning over Nation’s Restaurant News?  Managed not to (but I did fawn over the folks from Technomic, another market research firm that I used to use occasionally).
• The pictures my little digital camera can take in a dim room?  Crappy
• What am I eating?  A lot of fried food, chicken wings, hot dogs, bacon, and sweets
• Does any of it scare you?  Yes, but I don’t know what…actually, probably the funnel cake fries scare me most because the fry aspect takes a funnel cake from a have-it-once-in-a-while-at-a-festival treat to possibly everyday existence (from the cart/cafe stationed in between or right inside of a K-mart.  They’ll add this to their selection of churros for a little product diversification).  If you’re eating funnel cakes everyday, you’re probably on the fast track to riding in a scooter.
• How are the mascots?  Adorable!  It’s amazing what costumes people come up with–I’ve hugged a thermometer.  And Juan Valdez.
• Wait, you met Juan Valdez?  Supposedly.  He was just one of the celebrity appearances (along with some basketball player) of the day.  The food show brings out the foodie in everyone!  Speaking of celebrities, Ted Turner’s going to be there soon, so I’d better get down and catch a glimpse of him (what is Ted Turner doing there?  He owns a restaurant chain, of course).

In a vain attempt to fit in some exercise, the Doctor and I are taking a dance class on Saturday mornings.  The class meets at a dance studio in the West Loop, along a street that’s full of nice restaurants and food wholesalers.  With all the food suppliers around, it means that there are a lot of fairly big trucks and vans parked along the street.  The dance studio is tucked among these and is right next door to a bank with a large drive-thru.

Parking is not terribly difficult in this area on a Saturday morning, but we were just going to be on time when we got there.  We pulled in front of the studio, and in front of us was a Lexus SUV with its reverse lights on that had passed the bank entrance.  But right in front of the studio, just past two big trucks, we saw a parking space, so the Doctor pulled in. Sweet!

Up in the dance studio, a woman approached me.  “Were you in that blue car?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.

Then she said–and I quote–”That was really ignorant of you.”

Whoa.  Wait.  What?

Oh.  Apparently she had wanted that space.  But she hadn’t put on a turn signal to tell us that.

The Doctor apologized and said she thought this woman was going to the bank, since that was the entrance she was closest to, and she’d overshot that as well.

Me?  I start to fume (the Doctor hadn’t heard the igorant line).  I ask her, “Are your turn signals broken?” and continue saying that we didn’t see a signal, so we didn’t know what she was doing.

“I just like to be courteous when I drive,” she replied.

To me, being courteous would be turning on your turn signal so that other people would know what you want to do and can make way for you.  But apparently if I was going to be courteous to this woman, I was to read her mind.

This incident brings on so many rants in my mind, which is why I just can’t let it go (which is also a rant–do you let it go and feel bad if you later feel like you were walked over?  Do you sit and stew and feel stupid for for getting all worked up over some dumb incident?).  Mainly though, why do we all feel so fucking entitled?  I’m so sick of running into people who think the world has to revolve around them, and if you don’t play by their rules (which you rarely know), it’s your fault. Then they get to pull the victim card.  I don’t know about you, but in our society, I think the victim card really needs to go back into the deck.

You’d think the recession would start to nip this attitude in the bud, but I don’t think it has–not nearly enough.  Just look at gas prices.  They’re starting to get over $2 again (in Chicago at least) and people are complaining.  Why are you so entitled to cheap gas?  Just because you’re you and you have a big gas-guzzling car that you started driving again because gas prices went down, you shouldn’t have to pay for anything?  You want cheap gas?  Move to Venezuela and annoy the fuck out of those people!  Though I can already imagine that once the cheap gas problem is solved, these types of folks would find something wrong with Venezuela; most likely that not enough of the people speak English.

My other beef with this situation is the lack of turn signal usage.  I don’t drive much, but when I do, I hate it when people don’t tell you they’re turning or changing lanes.  All of a sudden they stop to turn right (or left) and you have to do everything in your power not to plow into them because you didn’t expect the flow of traffic to stop like that.  On larger roads that are prone to weaving drivers who can’t flick on their signals, it’s even worse.  You don’t know when they’re going to involve you in their little “I have to get in front of you” game, and it makes driving a heck of a lot more stressful.  Hell, on the way home from class a little Smart car (complete with Boy Scouts of America medallion on the bumper) sped past us and changed lanes along Lake Shore Drive…only to end up right in front of us on the exit ramp.  You had to drive so fast for that?

We have rules of the road for a reason, and that’s to keep everybody safer.  But that’s no fun–it’s just easier to make everybody guess what we want to do out there and make them revolve around “me” just a little more.

Looking for the scoop on the Restaurant Show?  Visit Gapers Block to read all about it!)