Arrest_my_Development on Xanga

Weblog

Thursday, 23 July 2009

WHERE THIN PEOPLE ROAM, SOMETIMES EVEN EAT

For Brian Ermanski, a slender yet muscular painter who lives among the trendy boutiques and bars of SoHo, the news that Manhattan was the thinnest county in New York State was no surprise. What shocked him was that, even still, 42 percent of Manhattanites were overweight or obese — a figure he found vaguely disturbing, as if it gave his borough a bad name.

“It’s probably more like 20 percent overweight down here,” said Mr. Ermanski, 28, sitting on a bench outside Balthazar, the brasserie that is a crossroads of the neighborhood, where he spends an hour a day watching the beautiful people go by.
“It might even go down to zero percent during Fashion Week, when all the models are here,” added Mr. Ermanski, who attributed his slim frame (5-foot-11, 160 pounds) to a combination of healthy and unhealthy habits: daily two-mile walks, weekly soccer, and breakfasts of coffee and cigarettes.
Manhattan is far thinner than the nation (with 67 percent of the population overweight), the state (nearly 60 percent) or the city’s other boroughs (58 to 62 percent), according to the study released Tuesday by Senator Kirsten E. Gillibrand that relied on federal data on body-mass index, a calculation based on height and weight.
Manhattan’s wiry and willowy were eager on Wednesday to dissect how they brought home such an honor. First and foremost, they said, Manhattan is a place where people walk. Even subway riders need to climb stairs. Storefront yoga studios, parks and pedestrian-friendly streets make working out relatively easy.
Beyond that, Manhattan is the national capital of disparate subcultures of the skinny: Aspiring models. Nightclubbing hipsters. Gay men with the time and money to chisel their physiques at the gym. Park Avenue society matrons who remain preternaturally slender into their 70s, the “social X-rays” satirized by Tom Wolfe.
And, too, Manhattan is a borough of extreme inequality — in socioeconomic status and obesity rates, which generally correlate. The island’s poorest areas, like Harlem, have high rates of obesity and diabetes, and advocates are working for improved nutritional education and access to healthy foods there. Meanwhile, the borough’s richest swaths have the lowest obesity rates — and, some argue, an obsession with thinness.
“My mom always says, ‘The smaller the dress size, the larger the apartment,’ ” said one lifelong Upper East Sider, who said she did not want to be named because she disapproves of the maxim.
What better place to test that hypothesis than the Exhale gym and spa, looking out on Madison Avenue from the banklike Carlyle Gallery building. (As if to prove the point, the gym sits directly above the Douglas Elliman real estate office advertising a “Trophy Mansion Townhouse” for $22 million.)
Behind a front desk that offered $1,600 Caribbean yoga weekends, a core fusion class huffed and puffed to an instructor’s stentorian count and a Corey Hart song.
The gym’s director, Susan Tomback (5-foot- 7, 118), said that for women who can afford leisure and child care, exercise is “a lifestyle thing,” not a chore.
“All the neighborhood women drop their kids off and come here,” said Ms. Tomback, 29. “It’s like a club. They go to brunch afterwards at Sant Ambroeus,” the ladies-who-lunch mecca on the next block featuring $22 salads.
For an even more rarefied crowd, there is Verve Private Training, sharing the fifth floor with the Gagosian Gallery, a temple of contemporary art. There, Mary Ann Browning gives $300 coaching sessions designed to produce the narrow hips required to wear, say, Carolina Herrera.
Leaving with a bottle of spring water was Gail Zweigenthal, a former editor of Gourmet magazine, where she had to balance Manhattan’s twin obsessions — eating well and looking good.
“I exercise so I can eat,” said Ms. Zweigenthal (5-foot-3 ½, 114; like many residents of the Upper East Side, she was quicker to give her weight than her age).
“If I feel fat, I can’t enjoy eating,” she said. “This is unhealthy — that if I gain a few pounds, I’m not happy — but it’s the truth of me.”
Now training to be a psychoanalyst — she wrote a master’s thesis called “Food Beyond Pleasure” — Ms. Zweigenthal lifts weights and walks three miles a day.
“Look at my cute little triceps!” she exclaimed, pinching them.
Fear can be a motivator, too.
“Our closets are filled all these expensive clothes that are like swords of Damocles, because we may not fit into them anymore,” said Simon Doonan, (5-foot-4, 135), emerging from the Crunch gym on Lafayette Street, where men on treadmills could be seen through the windows.
Mr. Doonan, 56, the creative director of Barney’s — the designer emporium where real estate brokers lunch on chopped salads — said he did not want to appear “fatist.” Yet, he admitted, he notices the weight of people in other states.
“I’m appalled by people my age who can’t get through the airport without a wheelchair,” he said.
Fashion, indeed, is merciless. Intermix, a designer boutique, doesn’t usually carry sizes larger than 8, said the manager of the Madison Avenue store, Lynn Bacci (5-foot-8 ½, 137), who works out to fit into skinny jeans and tank tops.
Chuck Ortiz, 52, a plumber from the Bronx who was ordering $5 sandwich from a halal cart near Intermix — chicken, his version of a diet — scoffed at the way Upper East Siders spend money to get thin “when there’s a park right there.” A brawny 6 feet, 220 pounds, he said he stays fit by hiking and working hard renovating the Surrey Hotel.
Nearby, in Central Park, New Yorkers’ willingness to exercise in public was on display — not only defined pectorals but also jiggling thighs.
Meanwhile, Verve’s founder, Ms. Browning, supervised as Ilene Zatkin-Butler (5-foot-4, 118), a lawyer who has dropped three pants sizes under her tutelage, fast-walked on a treadmill. “Everything is in excess in Manhattan — whether it’s how beautiful you are, how thin you are, or how hard you work,” said Ms. Browning, (5-foot-8, 119, and healthy, she added with emphasis, “No eating disorders going on here!”)

(Original article: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/23/nyregion/23slim.html)

I live in New York City, and I see this every day. Thin people are everywhere. Ultra-thin; so willowy, their arms entwine like branches and their legs can double cross. But often, they make you wonder -- are you really happy? Could it be that at a certain point, the "thin" became a chore, a ceaseless peddling of against the current to sustain the perfect body, the ideal image of someone who can eat well, sleep well, work like a maniac and look like a goddess. I wonder, and I never really know, because I am not them.
"I’m appalled by people my age who can’t get through the airport without a wheelchair," says Mr. Doonan, Barney's Creative Director. But what does that mean? He surely does not sustain his 134 lb frame to keep himself from being rolled through the airport in a wheelchair. In fact, it's doubtful that he has the obesity gene at all. Perhaps he should say he sustains his 134 lb weight not because he doesn't want to be "fattest", but because he wants to be "thinnest." Put 5 more pounds on him, and he'll be cutting carbs like a diabetic.
Obesity is not the problem. Mediocrity is. No one in Manhattan's Fashion industry wants to be average. Average is just as unacceptable as belly shirts and the blinged-out JUICY across your ass. Average won't get a second look, not the way a thin person would. Average will have to wait in line at the door of the new nightclub, unless they know someone, or they're about to walk in with a very thin Above-Average. The pursuit for thinness has nothing to do with health or obesity. Don't expect to be told "It's such a shame that you shovel up so much cocaine in your nose to stay skinny" or "A salad does not provide nearly enough nutrition throughout the day" when it's the status quo to be questionably thin. A little eating disorder is normal. Even just a little one.
Horrified yet unsurprised? Well, the ideal has shifted downwards from 20, 10, even 5 years ago. The 90210 days when Brenda and Kelly had "perfect" bodies are a faint, bittersweet memory, like legos and Polly Pockets and Cybil Shepherd's glory days.
Just know, girls, that Carolina Herrerra does make beyond a size 8, and no matter what width your hips are, her dresses will make you look fabulous.

Wednesday, 15 July 2009

Pro·cras·ti·na·tion
How we got a word for "putting things off."

Pro·cras·ti·na·tion. How fitting that the word is lengthy and Latinate, taking its time to reach a conclusion. Alcoholics Anonymous founder Bill Wilson once wrote that procrastination is "really sloth in five syllables." And yet the word denotes so much more than mere sloth or indolence: A procrastinator meticulously organizing a sock drawer or an iTunes library can't exactly be accused of laziness. Likewise, procrastination is not simply the act of deferral or postponement. It implies an intentional avoidance of important tasks, putting off unpleasant responsibilities that one knows should be taken care of right away and setting them on the back burner for another day.
The promise of "another day" is the key to the word's origin. It derives from the Latin verb procrastinare, combining the prefix pro- "forward" with crastinus "of tomorrow"—hence, moving something forward from one day until the next. Even in ancient Roman times, procrastination was disparaged: The great statesman Cicero, in one of his Philippics attacking his rival Mark Antony, declaimed that "in the conduct of almost every affair slowness and procrastination are hateful" (in rebus gerendis tarditas et procrastinatio odiosa est).
When procrastinate and procrastination began appearing in English in the mid-16^th century (a time when Latinisms were flooding the language, mostly via French), the words suggested the classical repugnance toward inaction at critical moments. But procrastination soon took on a dire new meaning: Christians used the term to remind sinners that postponing the repentance of one's wicked ways may lead to damnation. A 1553 sermon spoke of dire consequences for "he that doth prolong or procrastinate" the confession of sins, while a 1582 tract on "The Foolishness of Men" warned, "Take heed therefore, that by procrastinating repentance ... thou wittingly and of purpose, do not tempt the Lord."
With the dawn of the Industrial Revolution, Christian moralism fused with commercial pursuits. Procrastination not only forestalled salvation in the next life but also the goal of financial well-being in this one. Thus the evils of procrastination worked their way into the oft-repeated adages of the new capitalist era. "Procrastination is the thief of time," wrote English poet Edward Young in 1742. A few years later, Philip Stanhope, the Earl of Chesterfield, penned the words: "No idleness, no laziness, no procrastination; never put off till tomorrow what you can do today." Ben Franklin is credited with a similar saying, mockingly transformed by Mark Twain into the procrastinator's motto, "Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow." (Those who follow Twain's wry advice don't just procrastinate, they perendinate, a useful word meaning "to put something off until the day after tomorrow.")
Anti-procrastination maxims of the Chesterfield variety crop up in many European languages with very similar wording, from Spanish (No dejes para mañana lo que puedes hacer hoy) to Polish (Co masz jutro zrobić, zrób dziś). In German there's the rhyming couplet, "'Morgen, Morgen, nur nicht heute,' sagen alle faulen Leute," or " 'Tomorrow, tomorrow, not today,' all the lazy people say." Given these shared sentiments it's peculiar that few languages have a compact single-word equivalent for the English procrastination. It's even more peculiar that Romance languages like Spanish and French have sometimes ended up borrowing the word procrastination from modern English despite their closer kinship to the Latin original.
Those languages that haven't adapted the English term often have to make do with a word that means something more general like "postponement," missing out on the nuances of procrastination. In Russian, for instance, procrastination is usually rendered as promedlenie, or "delay." Alternatively, a Russian speaker could go the literary route and allude to Oblomov, the dithering protagonist in Ivan Goncharov's 1859 novel. Oblomovshchina or "Oblomovism" has come to describe a whole set of characteristics (often ascribed to Russia as a whole), including "the habit of waiting for everything to be provided by others rather than oneself." Arabic, on the other hand, comes a bit closer to the mark with taswif, literally meaning "to say, 'I will, I will.' " "A beautiful word—considered etymologically," opined Sir Richard Burton in a footnote to his translation of Arabian Nights.
Speakers of non-English languages may be scrambling to find translational equivalents as procrastination becomes more widely recognized as a debilitating psychological condition, spawning its own self-help literature and new therapeutic techniques. The Internet age makes the dangers of procrastination all the more acute, with everything from social networking sites to YouTube videos tailored for maximum time wastage. A researcher of the phenomenon, Norman A. Milgram of Tel Aviv University, called procrastination "a malady of modern time" in 1992 (long before anyone had heard of Facebook Scrabulous). The more industrialized and technologized a society becomes, Milgram argued, the more it has to grapple with procrastination as a problematic notion. Adherents to this view point to the evenhanded approach of the ancient Egyptian language, which had two verbs corresponding to procrastinate. One verb referred to the useful avoidance of unnecessary or impulsive efforts, and the other to the harmful shirking of tasks needed for subsistence, such as tilling the soil at just the right time during the Nile's annual flood cycle.
Egyptian agriculture aside, it's unclear exactly how modern the concept of procrastination really is, since one could draw a straight line from Cicero chewing out Mark Antony to a 21^st-century boss berating an employee for spending too much time on eBay. Perhaps that's another reason why procrastination is so long. A shorter word just wouldn't have enough room to hide so many historical layers of guilt and anxiety.

Source: (http://www.slate.com/id/2191238/) You thought I wrote that, didn'tcha? I'm still procrastinating.

Wednesday, 06 May 2009

All is Unfair in Love & War

The Bible scares me.

Thou continuously shall not.

Yet, there is no commandment that says Thou Shall Not Judge, which I find to be the biggest "sin" of all. This is not an original statement, but it's truly ironic how religion, based on love and unification, gives people an excuse to segregate themselves. Be it same-sex marriage or "opposite marriage" (Thank you Miss California for this incredible phrase), abortion, or war -- people become righteous when it comes to their God. When an anti-gay marriage protester was asked "Why do you hate gay people?", she answered "I don't hate gay people. God hates gay people." You can't make this shit up.

There are three things in the Bible that left a great impression on me.

1) Let those who have not sinned cast the first stone.
2) Turn the other cheek.
3) Sell your meaningless earthly possessions for a more fruitful afterlife.

In other words:

1) Show kindness.
2) Show forgiveness.
3) Show humility.

However, few people adhere to all three. The present is based on war, retaliation, hostility, and greed. In fact, most of history has been based on it. It saddens me. And it saddens me MOST to know that I can only pray for change.

There should be only one commandment in any book for any religion:

Do onto others as you wish others to do onto you.

It renders the debate on what is good or evil irrelevant.

Because you will always watch out for your own ass, as you should for others.

Friday, 01 May 2009

The Yellow People

Just for fun, because there's so many of us.

The FOB: Self-explanatory. This doesn't include the hs Asians who were raised here but only speak Korean/Chinese and carry their box in Sanrio lunch boxes though. The FOBS are literally fresh of the boat.

The Sorority/Fraternity Asian: Someone who was not an all-Asian person in High School who goes on to pledge for an Asian sorority/frat and eventually ends up hanging out with only Asian Greeks. Most likely, he/she was too uncool in hs to hang out with the cool Asians, so they've pledged their way into an accepted college group. They will go through humiliating tasks and trials that remind one of a poor-man's-Full-Metal-Jacket scenerio before being able to call their fellow spikey-haired pledges "Bros" and "Sisters". They will learn to do the keg-stand for attention, and hang out with these people for the rest of their lives.

The Used To Be Asian and Wants To Distance Herself From All Asians Asian: This Asian thinks of her past as a "phase" and is somewhat ashamed of it. She now watches Gossip Girl, shops at Whole Foods, does yoga, joins the marathon, hangs out with her non-Asian coworkers and yuppies. Her parents might ask her, when she visits home, "What do you eat now? Because I don't know what to cook for you anymore."

The Coming of Age Asian: Used to only hang out with white ppl in hs, then decided he needs to only hang out with Asians and date Asian girls in college. The difference between this Asian and the sorority girl Asian, is that this Asian most likely went to an Ivy League filled with Asians, and at 27, still wants to go to all Asian parties.

The Never Asian Asian: She can be a fob, but she'll never date an Asian guy. Never. She's got an adorable accent, is open-minded, will date girls for fun (or for a night), but most likely, her boyfriend is 45 and married. She tries to change him though, because that's what girls do. They want to be the one who changes the dude.

The 40 Year-Old Asian: This woman will most likely marry a 50 year old divorced white male. Her son just came here, and he's about 18-22, and he's going to a community college. Her hubby will not mind, because he just ADORES her. She may or may not have married him for the Visa, but ultimately, she will seem very happy. Whether she really is or not, you will never know, because she will never tell you besides that it was a practical decision.

The Vera Wang Asian: She is just so Vogue. She wears no makeup. She speaks French or Italian or Dutch or something fabulous. She's petite, shops at vintage stores, but will never be mistaken for Mary Kate Olsen because she eats. Her perfect outfit is a grey, kind of dirty H&M tee with a high waisted skirt and ballet flats. She might have bangs, and she never dyes her hair. Gold bracelet never leaves her left arm. She looks very very stereotypically asian, but once she opens her mouth, you'll realize she knows nothing about Asia at all. She had to read the subtitles in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.

The Christian: This Asian male met his mate in church, where they were in the same group, where they prayed together, where they ate together, where they first held hands together. They are usually quiet at social outings, and they never kiss and tell. Their friends see them as "destined" or "perfect" for each other and count down the days to their marriage. Their friends assume that they are virgins, but because the couple never kisses and tells, no one will ever know.

The My Dad Is Rich Asian: This kind of Asian male will go to a decent school in the States after going to an international school in Asia, and he will only date models who are half-Asian or Asian popstars. His name will be ambiguous enough so you do not know whether he is a girl or guy when you first hear it, like Charley. He will be a bit effeminate, but he will take you to the best parties and pour champagne over you. This kind of Asian is rare, but always a disappointment up close.

The Asia Asian: They like paleness. They'll look at you like you lost an eye if you ask them for a bottle of tanning spray. They will tell you how beautiful your skin is and ask you why you don't use an umbrella under the sun. They think Coco Lee is big boned. They may be fascinated by western culture, yet they have extreme pride in their own culture. They, at one time or another, have jumped up and down to techno music for 3 hours straight. They love hip hop, but they are afraid of black people. They're kind of awesome, except for the scared of black ppl part.

Any more?

Tuesday, 21 April 2009

Don't read THIS, read THAT.

Every time Oprah mentions a book on her show, millions of people buy it. Is it really that fucken amazing? Who knows. What you know is, Oprah equates to the female earthling version of Jesus, so whatever she says -- goes. Well, we can't blame this all on Oprah. There are other parties too. Like teens. Tweens. Whatever. I have nothing personally against them; I just think this generation's young adult books suck. Which is why I'm making this list of books that I won't read. And I'll offer another book that trumps it, IMO. Starting with the Vampire movies.

1. Twilight (The Whole Damn Collection):
I won't read this because the writing is horrible. The plot is like a bad bad fan-fic, and trust me, after writing a shitload of bad fanfics when I was 14, I know what a bad fan-fic is. I heard that the Twilight movie was bad, but that doesn't make the book ok. If I really wanted to read about teen angst, I'll go back to my Sweet Valley Twins/High/University collections and get a shitload. Or if I want to be scared, I'll dig out some R.L. Stine Goosebumps and Fear Street. But if you must read about blood, read Interview With the Vampire. Or Bram Stoker's Dracula. Classic.

2. Harry Potter and the (Insert Mystical Creature/Place Here):
The first time I heard about this book, I thought: The NeverEnding Story! A child who has the powers to change a magical world. And when I saw Harry get to the Mirror of Erised in the book, I thought: The NeverEnding Story! In Harry Potter, the Mirror of Erised is a large mirror that "shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts". In The NeverEnding Story, the Magic Mirror is a large mirror that "reflects the absolute true personality of the observer, often scaring visitors into running away or driving them mad." Similar enough. And the chess scene. There is an episode of Batman: The Animated Series where Batman must fight his way through a bizarre chess board composed of living pieces, all under the Mad Hatter's power. Sound familiar? I'm not saying JK Rowling stole this from Bruce Timm and Paul Dini, but I am saying, that episode of Batman: The Animated Series is indefinitely better than the Harry Potter Movie.

So, if you want to read a fantasy book for children, read The NeverEnding Story. Or The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. You decide.

3. The Secret
The idea is great. Positivity. It will bring great things into your life. Look at everything with a desirable eye, even if it's something undesirable. Nothing wrong with that. But is this idea really earth-shatteringly new? If you've watched Legally Blonde, you'll notice that the main character is someone who's followed the ideals of The Secret to a T. She wants Warner Huntingdon the Third, so she will give up her major and follow him to Harvard to get him. I'm sure every time that girl closed her eyes, she envisioned Warner and her together. And she does eventually get there. In Legally Blonde, the musical, there's even a song called "Positive" where the line "Keep it positive!" is sung over and over and over. Basically, The Secret is saying "see good in life, and good things will come to you." Or imagine it as hard as you want, and it'll show up at your door. The notion, however, is hardly foolproof. If everyone in the world dreamed with all their hearts to win the lottery, we'd all win the lottery, and there'd be no money to be had. The concept is essentially flawed.

If you want to read something that will move you and help you enjoy life better, read The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm. You don't have to be religious to believe that life should be about love. This book will help you love better and I personally believe that's that love is what life is all about. Put that on your show, Oprah.

4. The 3 Hour/Zone/South Beach/Raw Food/Eat Anything/Atkins/Green Tea/Cabbage Soup/Heidi Montag's Trainer/Sue-me-if-I-missed-anything Diet
According to BusinessWeek, the diet industry makes 40 billion dollars per year. That's 3/4 of how much Murdoch owes, and he's in jail for that. Well we can't technically put these doctors and trainers in jail for ripping us off. But the fact is, diet's work because they work for THAT PERIOD OF TIME. And they all call for some form of restriction. Name one book that doesn't give you ONE RULE and actually makes you skinny, and I will renege this number 4.

We are a nation of weight obsessed junkies, and with the money we spend on these diet books, we're damaging ourselves while not helping others. What if we put all these $18.50's in a huge pot -- you think we'd be able to help out UNICEF? Or Operation Smile? Or if you're not into charity, how about you keep that money in your pocket because the economy is bad right now. Whatever makes you happy.

That's all I can think of for right now. I haven't really gotten into the Doctor Phil books, but since those fall under self-help, like the diet books, I'll just skip those for now.

What books would you never read for your own sanity? And what would you read instead?