burritos et al

I won’t keep you in suspense: the winner of the three burritos I’ve tried was the Patio brand burrito. I just finished the weird kind-of off-brand burrito that was #3, and it finishes last (4/$1 and the lowest in fat, so no surprise). The Marquez (I called it Menendez before, I suck) burrito was good, and I may rotate it into use when I want a spicy burrito, but the Patio burrito had the best flavor. I will now test it against the burritos that can be found at Dillon’s, and also the Baja Kitchen brand at Wescoe. And, as suggested, I will also be comparing these burritos with some I make myself over the weekend. Woo-hoo, burrito progress. I think the end result of all of this may be that I get sick of burritos. hee hee.

In other news, I had a truly mediocre test experience today in my geology lab, which I should learn from and therefore study very hard this evening for the Geology class test tomorrow. Should, should, but… will I? Not until much later. I’m going to see “LuLu” with tonight. I’m watching “Cipher” off of the “Alias” DVDs now – Sydney’s about to have the turkey conversation with her mom.

Incidentally, did you know that Americans eat an average of 14lbs of turkey a year? Also, turkies apparently have some kind of obesity problem happening, too: “Turkeys in 1995 collectively weighed nearly 6.8 billion pounds. Today’s turkeys tip the scales at a combined weight of 7.4 billion pounds.”

Blah blah blah. We’ve read this book in class that I find completely annoying and now want to write my next paper about. The book was Interesting Women by Andrea Lee. My best description of it is that it’s some kind of mental exercise for her, almost as though she’s trying to figure out how many stories she can tell within a narrow band of experience. Most of the main characters bear a striking resemblence to the author – African-American women now living in Europe. Most are writers (specifically magazine writers, like Lee before her book debut), most have daughters around the age of 11 or 12, a history of Ivy Leagueish education, and a divorce from a man met at that college. Sometimes the details are shifted – the husband is a writer, the daughter is telling the story – but basically everything is there in every story. The other similarity in every story is that there’s a complete dearth of detail about the woman who is actually the subject of the story, and there’s usually no real dialogue. In short, she does everything she can to make every story very conspicuously about nothing at all except the thoughts of the main woman character. The theory that my professor (Valk) has on much of this is that it’s an appeal to realism and that the absence of really pressing plot development in all of the stories is a representation of the emptiness of the world. I reject this on a couple of levels. 1). I think it’s less an attempt at realism than a failure at representing objective reality. It’s a magazine writer’s attempt at writing reality, all laced with hints that distance makes it more real. I actually think that’s crap – the idea that people who are so vaguely drawn they could be anyone are real is a little bit revolting to me, much more so than the idea that broadly drawn characters who represent super forms of people are realistic.

Aside: Dear God, Lena Olin’s arms!

2). I think the vagueness is intentional. I think part of Lee’s premise is that women are most interesting when they’re mysterious, when they’re only partly drawn or exerpted. She says as much in the title story. I’m not a big fan of that premise at all, but I think it’s the one that she hits.

Eh, more on that later, on maybe in a paper. And now, it’s time for “Lulu.”

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