The OTHER, little, white powder...

Addiction: "being abnormally tolerant to and dependent on something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming."


In a rare bout of procrastination-induced TV hypnosis, I recently lounged through half an episode of Cougar Town, until I located the remote. During those 12 minutes of mindless viewing, a brief exchange between Courtney Cox and Josh Hopkins redeemed the other lost 11.5 minutes of my life.

Cox returned from the gym to find her attractive, single neighbor outside and enthusiastically initiated a conversation:

• Cox: "I just finished three back-to-back spinning classes! Two to burn off that sticky bun I ate last night and one for the frosting I licked off the the frying pan this morning."
• Hopkins (the voice of reason and clearly not a sucker for sweets): "Why not just skip the sticky bun?"
• Cox: "Well, now that's just crazy talk!"

I'm willing to wager that Cox has never eaten a sticky bun--much less licked frosting off of any kitchen utensil--in her entire size-0 life. Even as an anorexic teenager, I never looked as svelte as she does at 45.

Nonetheless, her believably desperate character momentarily excused some of my own neurotic behavior. She did so shamelessly while looking fabulous to boot! I was willing to overlook the unlikelihood of the situation to savor that validation.












Surround me in greasy onion rings or cheesy Doritos and I'm likely to die of starvation. But dangle a caramel-covered carrot, a box of Godiva chocolates, or, sadly, even a frosted sticky bun and I'll offer my pinky toe in exchange (since I need my fingers for typing and dipping in cake batter) and promise my firstborn for the prospect of another fix.

The crazed mind plays a plethora of creative tricks on the unsuspecting body to justify its irrational actions. Heroin addicts are said to lie, cheat and steal for their habit. I've only stood up dates, blown off friends and hidden evidence for mine.

Ok, I have also consumed entire cartons of ice cream in one sitting, deeming the binge "healthy" by sprinkling ground flax seed and protein powder on top.

Are these any worse than the "hitting rock bottom" tales shared at an AA meeting?


Whenever my teetotaling mother sees me ordering a cocktail or opening a bottle of wine, she regurgitates a line stripped from one of her nutrition books: "drinking alcohol is just mainlining sugar into your system."

She offers this gem in a more informative rather than preachy fashion, but it still pushes a button accessible only to immediate family members (and the occasional conservative political pundit).














But at least her 'health' mantra offers an explanation for the comparable hangovers. The worst one I've suffered thus far resulted from a batch of cookie dough, not an excess of Captain Morgan mixers or even boxed wine.

In response to my mother's rehearsed comment, I usually smile and obnoxiously pun, "sweet!" as I try to high-five her in vain. Then I chase my brownie sundae with a White Russian, or some similar sweet variation, and joke about hooking myself up to a Kahlua IV.

More often than not, she reacts with a defeated look which silently whimpers, "where did I go wrong?" and proceeds to polish off a box of Triscuits or a buttered baguette.

To each her own vice; everyone has a crutch.

She may be right, though. I have noticed that the fewer bottles of pumpkin ale my boyfriend chugs, the more slices of pumpkin pie he gobbles.












Addiction switching is an interesting phenomenon. Rather than going away altogether, obsessions are simply replaced with others. This is a simpler alternative to hacking at the root of one's thinking or changing the basic behavior.

• I have countless friends who have quit smoking only to gorge themselves and gain 30 lbs.
  
• Or, conversely, friends who have lost weight after taking up smoking.
• Someone actually reported to have started smoking crack to quit drinking.
• Meg Ryan's character started smoking while in alcohol rehab in When a Man Loves a Woman.
  
• Robert Downey Jr. swapped drugs for working out, evident in his Ironman role.
  

As an experiment, I've even recently hopped on the bandwagon of staying on the sugar-free wagon. I make a concerted effort to avoid the baked goods and ice cream aisles at the supermarket. Also, it's been quite some time since I have devoured an entire jar of Nutella with chopsticks. Well, doesn't everybody do that from time to time?

However, such will power has required a replacement: blogging. It is more cost effective, has fewer empty calories and the hangovers aren't nearly as debilitating.


It even allows me to multi-task...

Generation Gaps

[From E.B. White's The Ring of Time]
The sense that is common to one generation is uncommon to the next[...]The only sense that is common, in the long run, is the sense of change--and we all instinctively avoid it, and object to
the passage of time, and would rather have none of it.












The summer after graduating from college, I was offered a teaching position in Tokyo. With an ostensibly useless English degree, I embraced the opportunity for a real, well-paying, professional job. There was even a contract involved.

Packing for the year was tricky, but I needed the essentials:

• English-Japanese dictionary. Check.
• Map of the Tokyo subway lines. Check.
• Culture Shock! book on ex-pat life in Japan. Check.
• Chopsticks. Ch- Wait, they probably have plenty of those in Tokyo...
  

"So, you're going to go teach some Japs how to speak English?" my grandfather asked me, half-incredulously, half-matter-of-factly.

The knee-jerk reactions filling my liberally-educated, 22-year old mind managed to stop short before escaping my lips, twitching in silent disgust. I momentarily felt grateful that my tattoo was in Sanskrit, not Kanji, feeling fairly certain that he held nothing against Hindus.

Although, when he saw the aum etched into my skin, he asked with slight confusion if it was the number '30,' no doubt questioning its significance. I smiled and nodded ambiguously; it was easier than teaching him yoga.


I quickly pondered which 21st century sensibility his question about the 'Japs' offended the most, ready to aim and fire. Ultimately, though, my inner yogi opted for the peaceful path of least resistance.

"Yep," I flatly replied in the best country Vermont dialect I could muster from childhood.

Ahhh, taking the higher ground can be so self-satisfying.

Did he have any idea how much Japan had changed in nearly six decades?


After eavesdropping on the brief exchange, my mother pulled me aside, out of hearing aid-shot, and whispered, "He doesn't see this opportunity from your perspective. His brother was in the Second World War and they both lost friends in Pearl Harbor."

I nodded knowingly at the familiarity of this story, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Geriatrics often get excused in the same way that small children do, as though unaccountable for their words and actions.

Then she quoted her favorite Robert Frost line: "I never dared to be radical when young for fear it would make me conservative when old."

But my grandfather was simultaneously both radical and conservative. During his later years, he was outdated on both ends: trapped in a mid-20th century time warp on some issues, yet far ahead of his time and contemporaries on others.

As a justice of the peace, he oversaw several civil unions, some even in his own backyard! Also, he had a bumper sticker which read, "Take Vermont Forward" in response to the anti-gay backlash across the state when the civil union bill was passed. Few people were politically more progressive than he in regards to this issue.

Well, except maybe Ben and Jerry, who re-named an ice cream flavor in honor of civil unions in Vermont.


In the aftermath of heated political debate regarding gay marriage, Vermont blazed a human rights trail at the turn of the millennium and my octogenarian grandfather was on the vanguard.

The unique and extreme inconsistency of his beliefs baffled and somewhat amused me. If the kamikazes were gay, would he also be homophobic? My mother jokes that he had selective hearing, so it isn't a stretch to think that he could also have selective bigotry.


I felt relieved to discover that this kind of arbitrary and often self-contradictory discrimination was not unique to one generation, my family or even my 'homeland'. On the other side of the globe, I encountered many elderly Japanese with mixed responses. Once I noticed the occasional ojiisan (grandpa) glaring at me while bringing his grandchildren to McDonald's. Perhaps he was from Hiroshima? Maybe he resents that American fast food is so addictive?

Also, my father called me regularly during my stay in Japan and, despite his education and world travels, he nonetheless asked about my experiences with "Orientals". I reminded him, to no avail, that Oriental is best used to describe rugs.

I began to see a trend and wondered in what ways I will offend future generations in the future with acceptable, or even progressive, views I hold today.

My grandparents referred to something thrown together as "Gerry-built"; to my parents' generation, it was "Nigger-rigged"; to my cohorts and me, that same thing is "poorly constructed". The next generation may somehow find that derogatory and create yet another, more appropriate term. We're all speaking the same language, but along the way and over the years, something got lost in translation.

October Opportunities Abound in Aspen

***NOTE: Written as an affiliate blog for The Aspen Daily News, a local newspaper in Aspen, CO. It is directed specifically at Aspen locals, part-time residents and visitors who stay abreast of local news.***
This week's unseasonably frigid climate and early snowfall, both in town and on the mountaintops, have created an environment more fitting for the winter rush than the autumn off season.

However, at a base elevation of nearly 8,000 ft., any weather should be expected at any time of year. A few years ago, I awoke on my birthday to a fleeting snowstorm--and my birthday is in JUNE! By the time I headed to Matsuhisa for dinner, the snow had melted and summer began chirping again. The adage rings true: "if you don't like the weather in Colorado, wait 10 minutes."

Despite the climate mood swings, October is a favorite month for many locals. The tourists go home until the ski season officially starts, the town's population shrinks to its normal size of 5,800 residents, the pandemonium of Ruggerfest has finally passed and finding parking spots around town is much less of a nightmare (not to mention free on Columbus Day!).

The quiet off season, which begins around Labor Day and continues until the ski slopes open on Thanksgiving, grants full-time Aspenites some down time, tourist-free fun and bargains at local businesses. October in Aspen is the calm before the winter storm.


Several restaurants close for the autumn months, but most of those that remain open for business offer deals for locals. The off season is famous for its prix fixe specials: the cost of some three-course meals this time of year is comparable to that of an appetizer and drink during the height of winter or summer madness. The set menus range in price from $29 to $40 and are offered until late-November. This season's prix fixe options include:

• American: Elevation, LuLu Wilson and Rustique
  
• Asian: Asie and Takah Sushi
• French: Cache Cache
• Fusion: 39 Degrees (at The Sky Hotel) and Pinons (reservations required via phone)
  
• Mediterranean: Wild Fig
  
• Seafood/Pacific Rim: Pacifica

If the prix fixe deals are old news, then some newer options may be more appealing. Kenichi and its sister establishment, Bad Billy's Restaurant and Bar, have added a third member to the family, Noodles by Kenichi, which recently opened in the revamped Ute City Plaza. Also, Gisella is the town's newest Italian restaurant, which opened over the summer, replacing the former local fixture, Gusto Ristorante.

Extended happy hours, drink specials and other discounts are more common this time of year around town and throughout the Roaring Fork Valley. Each restaurant has its own stipulations and seasonal hours, so read the fine print carefully.

Food and entertainment go hand in hand, even after the dust settles. Despite the autumn quietude, various local venues offer a multitude of after dinner outings.

• The Wheeler Opera House is open throughout the season, offering a series of John Denver Tribute concerts during the holiday weekend (10/9-10/11)
• Jimmy's is open nightly for food and drinks and its dining room is cleared out for Salsa Night dancing every Saturday into the wee hours of morn. It reopens the following morning at 11am to air NFL games.
  
• Belly Up offers an eclectic mix of live music, parties, and football and movies on the big screen. The venue is open every night this month, except for one, which could get booked soon, given owner Michael Goldberg's intention to keep the club open 7 nights per week.

October reaches its apex on Hallowe'en, when masked partygoers come out of the woodwork for one last hurrah before the stillness of November envelopes the town.


Veteran costumed Aspenites know the drill, but for the neophytes:

• Costume party at La Cantina starts off the night
• Members-only Caribou Club opens its doors to the public at least this one night a year
• Club Chelsea throws an annual Halloween party and offers tickets online or at the door
• Eric's Club boasts its usual late night debauchery, rife with two bars, a pool hall and cigar room
  
• Danger Kitty, a campy '80s cover band, has performed a sold out show at Belly Up (max. capacity 450) on Halloween every year, since the club opened in 2005, and judged the $1000 costume contest. However, they are playing on Friday the 30th this year. For a break in tradition, Julian and Stephan Marley will play on the 31st.
  

Between foliage hikes and biking trips to Moab, Aspenites can squeeze in affordable fun without leaving town this off season. They just have to venture out and brave the unseasonably harsh elements before winter hits.

I'm not narcissistic, I just like to write about myself

One of my favorite scenes of the TV show Ally McBeal is when a colleague asks Ally why her problems are so important. She replies: "You know what makes my problems bigger than everyone else's? They're mine."

That comment strikes a rare balance of simultaneous selfishness and universality. We all feel that way, at one time or another, but few of us have the self-absorbed audacity to admit it. At least not publicly. Ally's candor and self-aware insecurity make her a sympathetic character, if an occasionally obnoxious one, drawing viewers into her honest, self-important world.

Connecting with an audience via the self requires:

• a command of language
• proper use of form
• illustrating a bigger picture outside of the self
• speaking to the audience from the standpoint of an equal
  

Otherwise, the use of the self seems superfluous and narcissism ensues.

The term narcissism, according to Wikipedia:

"refers to the personality trait of self-love, which includes the set of character traits concerned with self-image or ego...Applied to a social group, it is sometimes used to denote elitism or an indifference to the plight of others."



That Greek myth of the cursed god, Narcissus, condemned to fall in love with his own image, has morphed into a modern day psychological phenomenon. Wiki even offers explanations of several different types of narcissism as a personality disorder, including my favorite, healthy narcissism, which,

"is formed through a structural truthfulness of the self, achievement of self and object constancy...[and] forms a constant, realistic self-interest and mature goals and principles and an ability to form deep object relations."

Healthy narcissism? Is that a misnomer or perhaps a loophole which can somehow justify my self-absorption?

Regardless, the distinction is subtle and could mark the difference between good and bad writing, work which either draws in readers or alienates them. "Healthy narcissism" in writing uses the self as a means to convey an aspect of the human condition, rather than using the self as the focal point for its own sake.


In his essay, "Learning to Breathe After the Memoir," E. Ethelbert Miller uses himself as a subject without backsliding into self-importance. He shares his story to benefit others, as well: "We write as individuals," he claims, "but our words often become fruit and bread for others" (Forche and Gerard, 161).

Miller's comparison of words to sustenance echoes references made in class about bloggers 'feeding' hungry readers. He intends to connect with readers and does so with his personal story. Although Miller writes about his experiences as a black man, his memoir spans a much wider range of readers. His use of self is about much more than an identity limited to race or gender.

Using personal experiences as a starting point, Miller reaches outside of himself to weave a story into the wider cultural fabric. His self-references extend into a world beyond his individualism. He fits a painful conversation with his father into a larger context:

"Two bodies in the dark, one talking and the other listening to a strange sound coming from where pain and hurt is mixed with depression and the blues, and if you cry for everyone and not just yourself, this is where you discover the Middle Passage, the Holocaust, the plantation, the concentration camps, the bombing of cities and whatever is left. This is the howl Allen Ginsberg described for an entire generation. That spoken unspokenness" (Forche and Gerard, 162).

My identity and reference points are starkly different from Miller's, which all factor into his writing. Nonetheless, I'm able to relate to the pain and humanity expressed in his work, eager to read more.

On the other hand, blogs like Gwyneth Paltrow's GOOP and cjanerun exemplify narcissism, and not the healthy kind, through their disconnection from the reader. Rather than offering 'tales from the trenches,' they offer self-serving perspectives from a pedestal.
GOOP provides impersonal anecdotes and suggestions to readers who likely cannot afford or relate to the lifestyle promoted by the celebrity blogger. Paltrow's fabulous life is not made accessible to the reader, but rather held up as an unattainable ideal. Also, she name drops in a way that does little besides reinforce her own status. For example, Paltrow writes:

"Recently, I have enlisted the services of an old friend in the style department. Elizabeth Saltzman, the long time Fashion Director (and now Contributing Editor) of Vanity Fair and one of the best dressed girls I know has been getting me dressed when I need to dress up."

In short, Paltrow has an enviable Rolodex of fashionable friends whom I (and most likely, you) will never know. She does, indeed, have a wonderful life, but the way she presents it does little for me, the narcissistic reader. GOOP is more of a one-sided display and less of a symbiotic writer-reader engagement. The narcissism is alienating and, as a reader, I am unlikely to revisit her blog.

CJANERUN is slightly more aware of her narcissism, as indicated in the afterthought of a post-edit. She attempts to clarify and explain her original post:

"Something isn't right about this post, it is my tone. Chup was painfully explaining to me that I didn't go far enough in letting my audience know that this post was about self-deprecation."

However, even the obsession to get the post right has more to do with her reputation than a genuine concern to connect with her readers and offer them something more than her own self-proclaimed status as a "serious" and "literary blogger." She gets in her own way and falls into the trap of self-serving narcissism (is that redundant?).

Furthermore, even self-deprecation can be narcissistic, if the use of it fails to reach outside of the subject's own self-serving world.

Miller writes, "stepping outside of oneself can be risky" (Forche and Gerard, 159). We write about what we know, and, presumably, what we would want to read, which often involves the self. That very notion may be inherently be narcissistic, but it can also be altruistic. That makes it healthy, or at least worth reading.