Marcel the Shell With Shoes On

http://vimeo.com/14190306

Lady Gaga's Penis

Well, now that I have your attention...I really have nothing to say about Lady Gaga's lack of penis. Although I do think it would be pretty cool if she was a hermaphrodite, as she might be able to really educate and spread awareness about the range of sexes and genders. But anyways, that's a different story.

What really stuck out for me in the Jessica Valenti piece was how happy she was with the fact that Lady Gaga mentioned the word "misogynist" in an interview. I'm sorry, but why is this so impressive? Maybe instead of applauding Lady Gaga for her feminist (although apparently she does not label herself as a feminist, another problem as perhaps she doesn't understand the concept properly) views, we should be asking why this is so special. Instead of taking it as the norm that most really famous pop-stars don't bring up feminism and politics and therefore applauding Lady Gaga when she does, why don't we expect pop stars to have opinions on important issues and wonder why the ones who don't voice it stay silent? If Lady Gaga was in one of my university classes and expressed her opinions, she would probably get some nods of agreement and we would move on. In a liberal arts setting, her views are far from revolutionary and are actually fairly common. Sure, it's not the job of pop stars to have opinions per se, but I'm sure that they do. However, I'm also fairly certain that when most pop stars sit down for an interview, the questions the reporter has prepared for them aren't all that political. In the case of Lady Gaga, this is different. So, as this is turning into somewhat of a confusing rant, and I'm not really sure what I think or where I'm going with this, I'll end with a question: If all pop stars were asked their opinions on feminism and politics, would we hear the word "misogynist" more often?

Observing the Perfect Barista

As someone who used to work at a Starbucks in my first few years of University, I have become quite addicted to the company. While my physical addiction is obviously to the caffeine, this can be satisfied by any cup of joe (maybe not as well, but anything coffee-related will at the least prevent caffeine-withdrawal headaches). What really brings me back to Starbucks repeatedly is the atmosphere: cozy with the perfect amount of lighting, it serves as a needed alternative to the tense climate of certain libraries on campus.

Needless to say, I spend a lot of time in various Starbucks throughout the West End of the city. One in particular has been my go-to study spot for the past two years, as it is far enough from my house that I don't have to worry about running into everyone that I know, but close enough that it is only a 10 minute journey in comparison to the 25 minute drive to campus.

Whenever I can, I sit in the same spot: square corner table, right next to the power outlets. From my spot of choice I can clearly see everything that's going on in the store, but I'm secluded enough to be productive if I don't feel like procrastinating.

Tonight I decide to watch the Baristas behind the counter, observing the familiar through a fresh set of eyes. It's fairly quiet in the store, just a friend and I studying in the corner and another couple sitting a few tables down. Two of the Baristas and the Manager are interacting with each other, casual banter and laughter ensues. But the fourth one on shift keeps to himself. He takes every order at the counter with a smile and a friendly tone of voice: distancing but not fake, creating the perfect "second home" environment that the Starbucks motto encourages. When there are no customers to interact with, he walks over to the pastry case and puts on a pair of plastic gloves. He removes a pastry from it's glass enclosure, places it on the cutting board, and meticulously severs it into perfect pieces. He removes the exact amount of tiny paper holders and places them in a white glass serving plate, filling them with the perfectly cut samples. With the proper glove-removing procedures, he rids himself of the white hand covers, folds them into four, and places them smoothly in the garbage. Straightening out his apron, he walks over to our corner with a smile on his face and samples in hand. I politely decline as I've just eaten dinner. I watch the smile on his face quickly fall: all his hard work at making everything just right...for an unappreciative customer who doesn't notice. But I have! I've been watching (is that creepy...?). "Wait, actually, I'll take one!" I exclaim as he starts to walk away. He turns around again with the perfect polite smile, and hands both of us a little sample, pleased that we can enjoy the small pleasures of a coffee shop. I eat it. I don't want it, but I eat it anyways. Now he can feel the sense of accomplishment of a job well done. It looks like he enjoys it.