Two Recommendations

1. Right now I'm eating a pint of Sharon's Gourmet Sorbet from Trader Joe's - in coconut. It is delicious. Tastes exactly like the inside of a Mounds Bar. I really recommend it.

2. I also recommend this article on the new Indian version of the Spiderman comic book. I'm not at all into comic books (with the exception of the Archie series, of course) but I am into global marketing and universal truths and other such complicated concepts. Plus, I've used the phrase "with great power comes great responsibility" SO many times to defend the US's role in Iraq to my uber-liberal-type friends. The article discusses the adaptation of American values in the original Spiderman comic into a story that will resonate more with Indians. As I would suspect, though, given my belief in the existence of core universal truths, desire for freedom and the existence of globally understood archetypes, the parts of Spiderman that seem the most "American" to me are the parts that are actually universal to all humans.

Anyway, it's an interesting article. I'll be thinking about it for a while.

My Brother Emails Me a Question

My brother took a few moments out of his busy and lawyerly existence this morning to ask for my wise and mature older sisterly opinion on the following:

Does realizing that you are a shallow person in itself make you less shallow? Is self-awareness always a good unto itself, or is it only an instrumental good? Possibly even might knowledge of some lacking in character actually impute an even baser attitude towards life, if the self-awareness is unaccompanied by any attempt to remedy the problem?

My answers were: no, instrumental, and yes. Since I've spent the better part of my life, and certainly all of my twenties, honing my introspection skills, I feel pretty qualified to say this: it is quite possible to be both intensely self-aware and intensely selfish.

Consider this: The year I was 23 was an especially bad one for me. I was miserable in every aspect of my life and, throughout the year, clearly sunk into a depression that involved tantrum-like episodes. I was also miserable to be around.

Both in and out of the tantrums, I was completely cognizant of the fact that I had a problem. I knew that the circumstances of my life were bad and that I was behaving irrationally. I was self-aware. But that's where it stopped.

For much of that year, I used "being crazy" as a crutch. I explained away (and was excused from) terrible behavior because I "was crazy." And I believed it was OK to use my mood as an excuse because I was so self-aware. As long as I knew what was wrong with me and could apologize, everyone should accept the status quo.

Wrong. So wrong. In hindsight, of course. It's easy for me to see now (no longer "crazy") that I used my self-awareness to facilitate bad behavior. Miss Manners would have a field day. How could I possibly use my mood to justify behavior that made others' lives miserable? That's nothing but rude and self-involved.

I'm sure I've been better off in the long run because I was at least somewhat self-aware during that period. Once I grew up and decided to take responsibility for all that stuff I was aware of it was probably easier for me to start behaving properly than it would have been if I hadn't done all that soul-searching. But self-awareness alone? Without responsibility and positive action? Just makes things worse.

Not that I Have Any Readers...

But for what it's worth, Tom and Steve, you should read this site for the next month or so...Iraq election coverage from Iraqis (edited by Michael Totten)...

Shocking My System

Four days in St. Lucia is not nearly enough. It is an incredibly gorgeous island filled with, as far as I can tell, truly attractive and nice people. Even though we barely left the resort (four days isn't all that long, especially when you have a wedding and wedding-related events to attend) I think I can safely say that St. Lucians are good people.

Here's the view from one of our group's villas:



We had a little disaster on our way: during our layover in San Juan, the air traffic controllers in Port-au-Pitre, Guadalupe went on strike. Seems they're the only controllers for the all the islands. We were literally in line to board the plane when the airline employees told us to sit back down because they didn't know when or if we'd be leaving.

Panic insued, naturally, in part because we had the maid of honor (the bride's sister) traveling with us. But everything worked out - as it turns out, our flight was only delayed for an hour and we all arrived extremely happy.

Coming home was rough, too. We left too early (four days was NOT enough) and flew into a windy, post-blizzard Baltimore. More pics to follow.

Shocking My System, Part II

It was cold when we left for St. Lucia (it snowed some the day before) and very early in the morning. But the real shock to my system came on the way home. Leaving St. Lucia, it was well over 80 degrees and sunny. When we changed planes in Miami it was about 50 but we never felt the air outside.

In Baltimore, it was 18 and windy. I'm not even sure what the wind chill factor was. Nine inches of snow on the ground, though, and now I do know what it feels like to walk through that much snow while wearing flip flops. I'm pretty sure the walk up to my house sucked the tan out of my skin.

Here's a picture of my backyard this afternoon (as it's snowing again, lightly). There's been so much wind that the snow's drifted in crazy patterns. You never know whether you're about to step into half an inch or into a foot and a half. You can see through the snow to our patio in part of this picture, but the little hill behind the table is covered in a drift.

And isn't there something a little sad and strange about seeing summer outdoor furniture surrounded by snow?

Not Going to Happen on My Watch

Amen. Stephen Green goes off about the state of "kids today" and the parents who make them into whiny, sniveling brats who refuse to grow up. I concur. Especially with the pieces about restaurants and other public venues. I cannot tell you how much it annoys me to see obnoxious kids in nice restaurants.

On the flip side, when I see truly well-behaved kids in nice restaurants, it thrills me. When I was in college, I had dinner at the Williamsburg Inn with my parents about once a year. One of those times, we saw a young family - mom, dad and maybe a 4-year-old son. We expected the worst. As it turns out, the son was absolutely perfectly behaved. The family left the restaurant at the same time we did; my mother complimented the boy's parents on our way out. They couldn't have been happier or nicer.

I can only hope that there's a backlash in the works. People my age are just starting to have kids and I know at least a few who are fed up with the parenting skills they see around them. I, for one, am not about to let a six year old dress like Britney - or pick her own clothes at all for that matter. And if my child misbehaves in a restaurant - we're LEAVING and it won't be pretty once we get in the car.

And mark my words there will be winners and losers in my kids' sports games. But that's another story...

I mean, why should I expect anything less from my kids than my parents expected from me?

Bloggier than Ever

If blogging here is a little light, blame my high school friends. I've started a new blog (because I don't have enough to do, apparently) entirely devoted to gossip about the graduates of Severna Park High School. I'm going for Page Six-style reporting...which is highly amusing to me and probably about three other people.

I love all this new technology...

Lady Jenna

My brother has an enormous - and I mean enormous - crush on Jenna Bush. So when I saw this, I knew what I had to do. I sent him the sketch of Miss Jenna's dress tout de suite.

They are stylish girls. And the leather and the jewel insets. Very, very risque...

Over-Blaming the Music Industry

I read an interesting article in the Jan 10, 2005 issue of the New Yorker (unfortunately, no longer online) about "mash-ups" - the not entirely new but growing phenomenon of DJs mixing two unrelated, but slightly connected, songs together to create something new and, often, better. The most famous example of this is, of course, DJ Danger Mouse's Grey Album, which laid the vocals from Jay-Z's Black Album over the tracks from the Beatle's White Album. Very famous, many downloads, critically acclaimed, totally illegal. But very cool.

Given the accessibility of new technology, this movement isn't surprising in any way. The article's author, Sasha Frere-Jones, writes an interesting piece including interviews with a lot of the people at the forefront of the movement, and reading the article feels almost like reading an entertaining history book. Mash-ups have been around for at least four years, so the "industry" has evolved. Frere-Jones documents that.

But at the end of the article, Frere-Jones throws in a cheap shot at the music industry, saying that it's not surprising that mash-ups (and the web sites and radio stations that facilitate them) have flourished: it's just a natural consumer response. Music listeners are dissatisfied with what the corporations have to offer, so they're going elsewhere.

Now, I'm no fan of the RIAA and I certainly don't disagree that the corporatization of music has hurt the creative process. But I wish that Frere-Jones had acknowledged the other reason why mash-ups are so successful: because consumers are creative, too.

Kids who aren't traditionally musical, but who are passionate about music, all of a sudden have an outlet for their creativity. So they're going to create. It's pretty simple. It might be exacerbated by a lack of choice put out by the record companies, but even if every record company was as perfect and accommodating as could be, mash-ups would still exist.

It almost reminds me of the middle-class women's obsesssion with scrapbooking. Women don't go to shows an spend hours and thousands of dollars a year on scrapbooking equipment and accessories because they're displeased with the options photo album companies offer them. That might be part of it, but it's not all. For scrapbookers, "scrappin'" is their creative outlet. They might not be good artists, but with a few tools and stickers, they have a creative outlet. And that form of expression is worth much more to them because they created it themselves. They don't want to buy it from a company.

A Midwestern housewife's scrapbook might look miles away from a British teenager's mp3 file, but at it's core, it's about the same values: a desire for creative expression, made possible through the wonders of modernity.

Paula Abdul

I was in the car a few minutes ago and, listening to the radio, realized that I still know all the words to Cold-Hearted Snake.

I'm trying not to think about what that says about me, but I can't help but feel disturbed.

I Should Have Posted Last Night

Before I fell asleep last night, I constructed a post in my head. It was an open letter to the writers of Law & Order, addressing the most bizarre line in the history of the show: "Is it because I'm a lesbian?"

Unfortunately, by the time I get around to writing about it today, what I planned to say has already been said, only better. Between The Corner and The Gay Patriot (both the post and some of the comments), they've got me covered: It was too abrupt, but in keeping with the show's lack of character development/it shows just how clueless people can be about Republicans (Fred Thompson's character)/it perfectly demonstrates the victimization mentality that is way too prevalent in certain parts of society/it was just ridiculous.

I'm happy to see Serena go, though. I liked Elizabeth Rohm on Angel, but she was a crappy partner for Jack McCoy. So overly dramatic and stiff. And I'm glad she got fired. Spices things up a bit.

On a kinder note to the writers: good case last night. All nuanced and whatnot. I enjoyed it.

Market Blogging

A while back, I blogged about going to Belvedere Square, an indoor market near my house. Recently, I was looking through some old pictures and I realized that my obsession with markets extends beyond my area code. I've taken pictures of markets on many of my trips.

So, I thought, why not do a little market blogging? It's been a perfect opportunity to test my new scanner/printer, as some of the pictures were taken on my trip to Europe in 2001: my pre-digital days.

Looking at these pictures, more than any others, makes me itchy to go somewhere cool, soon. I love watching people go about their daily lives, especially when they're lives are foreign.

Fortunately, I'm going to St. Lucia for a long weekend next weekend. Probably won't get much of a chance to check out the markets, as we're staying at an all-inclusive resort and most of our time will be occupied by activities surrounding our friends' wedding. Maybe when I come back I'll do a little drinks-with-umbrellas-in-the-plunge-pool blogging...

Bolhao Market, Porto

This is the Bolhao Market, a covered market in the center of Porto, Portugal - taken on our honeymoon. The picture's a little blurry, but I like how you get a sense of movement. It was almost raining outside when I took the picture, very gray and humid and just a little chilly, and the inside of the market was in direct contrast: bright and active. It wasn't as crazy inside as we thought it might be - the only live animals we saw for sale (outside the pet store on the second floor) were chickens, and there weren't any unidentifiable dead animals either...which was a tiny bit disappointing. It was full of friendly Portuguese vendors, though, and lots of unusual fruits and vegetables.

Cafe de Tabac

This (as well as the next few pictures) was taken on the Rue de Cadet in Paris. Even though I didn't make it to any official markets while in Paris, every street seems to bustle with commerce. The shops are straight out of a French book. This was our friendly neighborhood cigarette store. There was one on every corner. Can you imagine in America?

Paris Fruit Stand

This is exactly how always imagined Paris: full of people on bikes and little motorcycles, riding at a leisurely pace by outdoor fruit stands. And I love the Stella Artois sign over the shop next to the fruit stand: it's just so European.

Boucherie au Rue de Cadet

Another pic from Paris' Rue de Cadet. This time, the boucherie. Every day, new meat hanging in the window.

Rue de Cadet

A final Rue de Cadet pic. I definitely visited the patisserie here more than once in my three days.

Stockholm Market in May

This picture is from my trip to Stockholm. The outdoor market there was clean and crisp-looking and oh-so-polite, just like everything else in that city. I imagine, though, that the shelf-life of the market is pretty short. We were lucky to visit in May and to have beautiful (75 degree) weather while there. According to Martin, one of the people we met, the beauty of May in Stockholm doesn't come close to making up for the dark, cold misery for most of the rest of the year.

London Market

This is from a little market in Soho in London. I took it at about 2 am, after spending quite some time at the club next door. The guy behind the counter wasn't that amused with all of his new American friends. I was, however, quite amused by all of the upside down potato chip boxes in random flavors - prawn chips anyone?

Unmet Needs/Saying Goodbye

I've never had a strong desire to access the internet while in my car, or walking around, or doing anything else outside my home. I know I could if I needed to, through my cell phone, but that would require too much energy for me.

Today might have changed that, though.

One of my favorite things about the internet is it's ability to provide answers. Need to settle a bet about Rachel Hunter's age? You can find that online (actually a bet I lost - I thought she was much older - must be the Rod Stewart). Want to know, for sure, who was in the Traveling Wilburys? That's out there, too. All kinds of good stuff.

So today. I got in the car to go to Best Buy (more on that later)* and switched the radio to 99.1 WHFS. Kind of a famous radio station. Been around forever. Organizes enormous concerts several times a year. Plays kind of an alternative-progressive repertoire.

Not today. Today it was in Spanish.

It's always shocking when a radio station changes it's format. A few years ago, the oldies station in Baltimore (also been around forever) switched with the Top 40/hip hop station. Mass confusion among two generations of listeners.

But that's got nothing on this. It's one thing to expect Britney and get Donovan. It's another to expect Linkin Park and get "yo soy something." I don't speak Spanish. I was thrown into a tailspin.

And with no internet to consult, I had to call Cooper. He didn't know anything. I could barely get home fast enough. And the HFS web page didn't even have any explanation - just a new logo and some Spanish writing where the old site used to be (I think that's irresponsible and doesn't endear CBS - the station's owners - to the old listeners, who were many, but that's another post).

Finally I found this explanation. Apparently the listenership was dwindling (though I'm guessing it's still pretty significant) and CBS recognized the strength of the Hispanic market in the DC area (which is growing). I can't say it's a bad marketing move, but probably could have been communicated more clearly. I think this might be standard practice in the radio industry, but I think it sucks. Plus, even though I haven't listened to HFS nearly as much recently as I used to in high school and college, I am a little sad. Even if the quality of the programming decreased once CBS bought the station, it was a Baltimore-DC area institution, with a history of cool DJs and fun events.

I have a lot of good memories related to HFS, like listening to it every morning on the way to school senior year of high school (Radiohead's Creep came on every morning during my seven minute drive), seeing The Meat Puppets, Rollins Band and Counting Crows at the 1994 HFStival, trying to scalp tickets and getting hit on outside RFK at the 1996 HFStival, feeling really old as I drove my 13 year old sister to the 1997 HFStival (we split up once inside), being sad for Johnny Riggs when he was fired, and hearing tons of songs for the first time. I'm sure another station will step up to take it's place, but it won't be the same. RIP HFS.

*Unrelated: Best Buy just kept my business. Just after Christmas, I bought a new printer there that needed a USB cable. I wasn't sure if it needed a special cable, so I asked a girl who worked there. She handed me a cable and I bought it. When I got home, I cut open the package and realized she sold me a USB extender. Not thrilled. But as it turned out, my camera cable works fine for a printer. And I just took back the open package and they refunded my money with a smile and apology. Made me very happy indeed.

More on "My Art"

A few weeks ago I went on a rant about not considering blogging an "art" form. I stand by that - but it doesn't mean that I don't constantly evaluate what blogs and blogging brings to my life. This post by Grant McCracken (who has my heart and mind anyway) is a cool evaluation of the phenomenon of blogs and the blogosphere.

McCracken describes the nature of blogging as an activity that forces it's participants to develop a heightened awareness of their own limitations, alongside an ability to accept imperfection in the name of speed. If you're not posting quickly and often, you're not blogging, you're just writing. He discusses the general blogger's (and readers') Holy Grail - a thematic approach or (as I read it) a voice that adds insight to a variety of topics.

This makes perfect sense to me and it illuminates part of why I blog and why I read blogs: to learn more about how I view things. The more I write in this blog, the better understanding I have of what I think and why I think it. The function of the blog for me is to capture my random thoughts (that I've always had) for posterity, so when I review them as a whole, I can see the patterns and understand how my beliefs and observations connect to one another.

Have I actually done this little self-analytical project? Well, no. But I'm sure I will, at some point. A year ago, I read my diaries from middle school and high school. I was insane, much like every teenage girl. At 28, I was able to pull a lot of insight from that insanity. Since these posts are less emotional than a diary, I'm hoping that in a year, I'll have enough perspective to read them and learn something interesting about my worldview.

And I am aware of the inherently self-involved and slightly obnoxious nature of turning myself into some sort of academic study. I'm doing it anyway. I'll just try not to talk about it in public.

I'm Part of a Trend?

I'm a little late in getting to this (courtesy of the grand computer meltdown), but Virginia Postrel blogs on a USA Today article related to the trend of Gen X and Yers choosing a less chaotic and hardcore approach to work in favor of more time spent on leisure and with family.

I have a handful of female friends I've been close to since high school (and in some cases longer). In school, we were "smart girls" and, as a result, felt a lot of pressure to have significant careers (we came of age in the late 80s/early 90s before the Supermom backlash). Just recently, as we near 30, the pressure to do great things has intensified. At the same time, we're at an age filled with personal pressure to hit milestones - settle down, get married, buy a house, have kids. I suppose we're not the first generation to deal with these conflicting forces, but we're not more than the third. We don't have a lot of history to fall back on as we decide which path to choose. Do we fail to meet the expectations set for us in the workplace or do we relegate personal matters to second place?

Increasingly, as the article suggests, we've been leaning towards a less intense focus on work and more time and energy spent on other things - relationships, hobbies, etc. I might be at the forefront of our little crew: I'm certainly working a lot less than I was seven months ago, at my full time job. But what Virginia alludes to, but doesn't expand on, is the ability for people to work less and make more money now, thanks to technology. I work from home - and because of that, I'm significantly more efficient than I used to be. Plus, since I am an independent consultant, my overhead is low (laptop and cell phone, plus a handful of marketing expenses and a few office supplies here and there) and I'm able to actually make a lot more per hour than in the past.

As a result, I spend a lot more time with Cooper (and with my parents and even his parents) than I used to. When I have kids, I'll be able to continue to work from home without sacrificing much in the way of income - or in terms of "family time". I've got myself a pretty good deal here.

On top of that, who's to say that a home office won't be the birthplace for the next great big idea? Maybe our generation hasn't evaded the intense pressure - maybe it's just shifted to the home office-front.

The British Revolution?

I can't wait to watch this show. It sounds like a blend of everything I love on TV: food, profanity-laden reality (the "real" kind, not the game show kind) and Brits. I was a little misled by the description of the article, though, but happily so.

Slate's teaser involves Brits saving Food TV. And while I agree with author Sara Dickerman that a lot (most) of what's on the Food Network is crap, and is unfortunately much more Good Housekeeping than Food & Wine, I think she sells American chefs a little short. Ina Garten (the Barefoot Contessa) and Bobby Flay are fantastic entertainers. And the recipes I've used from their shows are the best kind: simply elegant, not pretentious, and easy for home. They're both Americans who show how to entertain. Especially Ina, who does a great job of incorporating table settings and flowers into her shows.

And how do you write an article supposedly about "the Brits" without one single mention of Nigella or Jamie Oliver? These two chef/entertainers literally got me cooking: the day I decided to learn how to cook (sometime during the month of February 2002) I went to Barnes & Noble and bought Oliver's book The Naked Chef. I read it straight through (I love reading cookbooks). Not long after, I bought Nigella's How to Eat. Read that, too. And I can't get enough of them on TV. They're both incredibly personable and make cooking relatively sophisticated food easy. Plus, they're messy in presentation. It's not all about perfectly cylindrical stacks or tiny cubes or any other bizarre presentation tactics.

And who doesn't love watching Nigella lick her fingers then stick them back in the bowl? Not that I do that...umm...

Just Curious

I wish I knew how Ann Althouse can possibly manage to blog as much as she does. I mean, she has a real job - a serious real job. Yet somehow she manages to write a ton of really interesting, insightful stuff. She obviously spends a lot of time reading, as well. And she even blogs about things she does - she's not just sitting in front of her computer.

She makes me feel like a really, really terrible time manager.

Sausage & Pasta

I'm not the greatest cook ever, but I do really enjoy it and there are a few things that I make pretty well. One is a pasta and spicy sausage dish that's really bad for you but tastes really good. A few people have asked me for the recipe, so I thought I'd post it here, instead of emailing it out a bunch of times.

It's from the September 2002 issue of Food & Wine (definitely the best, most entertaining of the food magazines, in my opinion).

Ingredients:
- 1 lb. penne pasta
- olive oil
- 1 1/2 lbs. spicy Italian sausage (NOT Hillshire Farms), removed from the casings and crumbled
- 3/4 c. dry white wine (I use vermouth)
- 3/4 c. heavy cream
- 3 tbls. grainy dijon mustard
- pinch of red pepper
- 1 c. (ish) sliced fresh basil

1. Put the water on to boil the pasta. Most boxes of penne take about 11 minutes. Cook the pasta when the water's ready...
2. Slice the basil into strips (you can do this by stacking the leaves and rolling them up into a column, then slicing across the short side of the roll.
2. Take the sausage out of the casings and crumble. The easiest way to do this is to slice down one side and remove the casing, then rip the sausage into large chunks. Don't worry about crumbling too much when it's raw - you can make the chunks smaller while cooking.
3. Heat about 1 tbl. of olive oil in a large-ish pan (make sure it's just a litte deep). Put in the sausage and cook over medium heat until it's cooked through. While cooking, you can break it up more with a spatula or the back of a fork.
4. Once the sausage is cooked through, add the wine to the pan and simmer until it's reduced about halfway - about four or five minutes.
5. Next, add the cream, mustard and red pepper, mix in and cook until all heated, about another four or five minutes.
6. Once the pasta's finished, drain, but don't shock with cold water. Put the drained pasta back into the pot you cooked it in and pour in the sausage/wine/cream sauce.
7. Add the basil and mix all together. Let it sit for a few minutes so the pasta can really soak up the sauce. If it looks too liquidy, don't worry - it'll be fine.

This is actually even better on day #2 - after the pasta has really soaked up the sauce. I would highly recommend it for anyone who a) eats meat and b) isn't watching their cholesterol...

Excess of Time

Last Thursday, just after Microsoft released it's miraculous new anti-virus update, my computer basically stopped working. I finally got it back last night, with all of my documents intact except for my entire email address book and all of the emails I'd saved. Obviously, I've been happier.

I had a lot of time over the weekend to think, though, about how I used to occupy my time in the pre-Internet days. The endless hours with nothing but books and TV as company (oh, and people I guess) reminded me of when I was a little kid and used to hang out at my grandmother's house. She had a few of these very cool games - they were plastic boxes filled with water and little balls. One was a basketball game and the other was tic tac toe. There was a rubber button on the outside of the game that shot a burst of air into the water every time you pushed it. The bubbles would move the little balls - and that was how you made baskets or somehow got tic tac toe. It was ridiculously simple and hard all at the same time - and endlessly entertaining.

I haven't seen any games like those in years. I wonder if there's even a market for them now.

Then, this morning, with my Internet connection returned, I read Stephen Green's post about Legos. I love those things, too. They are SO much better than all of the so-called educational toys out today. And so fun...

Wicked Game

(full disclosure: I stole that title from Daily Candy - but it's just so good)

I know exactly where I'll be tonight - smack in front of the TV. I haven't been this excited about a TV show in a looong time. As embarassing as this is, I actually considered applying for this show last summer (if the application process hadn't interfered with my wedding plans, I would have). I mean, we've got Sex and the City, Boy Meets Grill and a bunch of bitchy Martha wanna-bes. How great?

Burning Out

Both Dave Barry and Stephen Green (along with countless other bloggers, I'm sure) are suffering from some type of blogger burnout. OK, I haven't actually read Dave Barry regularly since I was 15 and reading him in the Sunday Washington Post Magazine, but I love VodkaPundit. He's all libertarian and socially liberal and just so cute.

This makes me wonder, though, how some other bloggers don't crumble under the weight of their blogs. I mean, how does Glenn Reynolds stay so Insta? And The Belmont Club? Wretchard writes about five really solid case study style essays a week. All insightful.

I've never even been able to keep a daily diary (I decided a long time ago, around 12, that if I'm writing for my own enjoyment, as opposed to that of my English teacher, there's no reason why I should force myself to write something every day.)

More power to them...but I was burnt out just from reading blogs after the election. And it is supposed to be fun, right?

Lies, Damn Lies & Damn Internets

I've been buried under numbers and Power Point all day and right now I'd really like to write about a Jim Lindgren post on a study published by David Blanchower and Andrew Oswald. The study deals with the relationships between marriage and money and sex and happiness. Not exactly thin stuff. Unfortunately, I can't seem to pull up the post anymore (it was on www.volokh.com, which seems to be down). But here's Ann Althouse linking to it. And I guess I'll just go from memory.

Won't be that difficult to go from memory, actually, because I really had just one thought as I read the post: this kind of research positively screams for an ethnographic element. As Althouse says, the relationships between entities and emotions as enormous as the ones in question are so complicated that it's nearly impossible to untangle them. To state definitely that, say, happiness is positively correlated to marriage when money's in the picture, or that study participants with more money had more sex might be true, but it misses the point.

Add a layer here: a little explanation of why. Take these numbers and hypothesize something. Then test it by going deep with a smallish sample. Interview them, have them keep diaries, take photo essays. Get into that data. Then, these numbers will be really valuable.

Now, I'll admit that I haven't read the original paper that Lindgren takes to task. But I've read enough market research studies to know that a little extra depth goes a long way. That a miniscule collection of pictures really does do more than a thousand numbers could, even if those numbers are attached to attribute statements and even if they have the ultimate in statistical significance.

And I don't mean to discount the value of quantitative data. It's great. But when you're dealing with happiness, shouldn't you go a little deeper?

In my former job, I was a part of an ethnographic project of sorts that dealt with the concept of happiness. Throughout 2003, people living all over the world sent us photos with short explanations that defined "happiness" for them. During the year, we selected the best photos and analyzed them, to understand what happiness meant across and within cultures. At the end of the year, we looked at our previous analysis and the entire body of photos from a global point of view. The resulting analysis session was heavy, to say the least, but it was really interesting. And we did come up with some interesting conclusions (the final report is here).

I can only imagine what conclusions and great ideas (that might not be "conclusions" per se) could result from heavy analysis of Blanchower and Oswald's numbers PLUS a solid ethnography exploring the relationships between marriage, sex, money and happiness. Not necessarily the meaning of life, but certainly something a lot closer than the numbers alone can provide.

P.S. I am a little grumpy about numbers today. I've been staring at spreadsheets all day and my eyes hurt.

That January Feeling

For whatever reason, each month of the year evokes a particular feeling in me - something sensory and intangible and difficult to describe, but very, very distinct. Sort of like those randomly scented candles from Pier One (I once bought one named "baked" - it smelled great) or the names of colors from J. Crew (how would you know that "flag" means "blue"?). For instance, my October is chilly and crisp (like an apple, I guess) and smells like smoke from a chimney and isn't very sunny. All of that wrapped together, plus something else.

Since high school, my January feeling has been dominated by a general sense of misery and letdown. Christmas and my birthday are over. It's cold out. And even though I've been out of high school for almost 12 years (ridiculous) I can't shake the dread of exams. Phantom dread, I guess.

This year feels a little different, though. Maybe it's that 2005 will be my first full year married, which is, for me, a pretty relaxed state. Maybe it's that my business is starting to pick up and I'm excited about what's to come. Maybe it's that my writing's going well. Maybe it's that I'm happy to have 2004, with my crappy job, hectic wedding plans and stressful election season behind me. Or, most likely, its a combination of all those factors, plus some other things I just don't realize. But this year, for the first time since I can remember, January feels more like September - just a little crisp, but full of potential.