Everyone Get Naked

My interest in secret societies has been a little outstanding and strange as of late. Ever since my friend Alex lent me a Time Magazine focusing on advanced secret groups like the KKK, Skull & Bones, and Freemasons, I have not been able to peel my brain from the topic. I was particularly interested in the partaking of societies in the Ivy Leage circle, perhaps because of my close proximity to UPenn.

So, how would you like to see an ivy-leager in the nude? A secret society at Yale called the "Pundits" hosts an annual "Naked Party" each year on campus. These parties have been held in periphery libraries, dorms, and storage rooms. The only rule: strip before entering. Students are invited by private invitation, given only a time and place to meet. The Pundits keep the location of the party undisclosed to ward off prying eyes. Once attendees are escorted to the event, they are given bags to put their clothes in, unable to enter until those bags are full! Students are charged per item of clothing they wear (shoes, low slung belt, etc.), so the only way to enter free is by freeballin'.

The venue is dimly lit, and the students try to drink wine and carry on sophisticated conversations with companions... careful to keep their line of sight from dropping below shoulder level. As one reported, "To pretend you're feeling really great and happy to be overcoming the oppressiveness of clothing, or whatever, overlooks the more authentic feeling, which is 'I feel kind of weird right now.'"

These parties are designed to be "an experiment in social interaction." To observe what happens "when the faces are familiar, but the bodies attached to them are not." After about half an hour the students generally loosen up and check out how everyone else shaves, who's boobs are saging etc. Of course, mingling and consequent hook ups are bound to happen but if so, the two in action are separated by the Pundits and an alleged 18-inch dildo!

Advice from former yale student David Thier, "Don't be afraid to eyeball somebody who looks good, or feel weird around those who don't, or worry about which category you fall into. Naked parties are often touted for shattering social norms and liberating minds, but according to one Pundit, the idea is much more simple: 'Yale students like going to naked parties because the parties are naked, and it's fun to be naked."

What's in a Name?

"Hey, my name is ________, what's yours? We have this conversation with strangers almost everyday. But really, what's in a name? Are names just arbitrary symbols or do they express "deep, essential truths" about our innermost being? Most people feel strongly attached to their names. Personality Psychologist, Doctor Gordon Allport says "our name might be the most important anchorage of our self-identity." In other words, a person's name is that person. But why is there so much meaning in something we didn't choose for ourselves? Our names, like our bodies and personalities, follow us everywhere; but how do names affect our everyday lives?

First, our name is a stimuli that grabs our attention. Later in life, the same name gives us an identity. Perhaps one of the first we recognize is our fit within a family. Names become very important in our social development as we being tying names to ideas, places, and emotions. Names aid us in feeling unique and celebrate us from anonymity. Loved or hated, we have a closer tie to our names than can be seen on the surface.

Let's begin with the self, or more specifically, how we feel about the name given to us. Researchers or The Netherlands' Tillburg University, explain the concept of "implicit self-esteem." Essentially, this idea describes that if a person is sound with their identity, they have a "positive" self-evaluation, and thus place positive values on the letters in his or her name. This is known as the name letter effect and, according to theory, it is very influential.

One way is reflected through the attitude of a person. For example, using the name letter effect on subjects with positive self-evaluations, one may find that Chris likes chocolate more than Linda does; and, on the same note, Linda likes lions more than Chris. These correlations can also translate into career choices and places of residency. Using two other examples of people with positive self-evaluations: Suzie is more likely to sell seashells on the shore than Brad, who is more likely to bake bread in Boston. While these models are extreme to convey the idea, I look forward to seeing how this effect leaks into everyday life. Maybe you will do the same.

Which leads me to how our names are perceived by others. We usually hear about the significance of first impressions, and are trained on the importance of a firm handshake, eye-contact, etc. However, one of the very first of impressions you lend is your name. Based on your name, a person will create expectations for you, which will not only guide your relationship with them, but in most cases, your future.

One illustration of the weight one's name has on first impressions takes place in schools. Students with "desirable names," or more common names, tend to receive higher grades from teachers. The Journal of Educational Psychology conducted many studies in which excerpts of equal writing proficiency were given to be graded by educators. Some papers had common names like Karen, Lisa, David, and Michael, while others had the "undesirable" names of Bertha, Adelle, Hubert, and Elmer attached as authors. Teachers marked significantly higher grades to the papers written by students with common names. This bias all funnels back to the grader's first impression. He or she saw a name and assigned expectations based on that name (i.e. the expectation to earn a good or bad grade.) Unfortunately, research has shown that a significant amount of students tend to follow the paths of these suppositions as a sort of self-fulfilling prophesy. But not to fret! Odd-namers can succeed and do! Think Elvis, Gwynneth, Tiger, Zooey, Meryl, and Regis... the list goes on.

Another sense of judgement is demonstrated in the work force. Men with socially masculine names, like Hank, are expected to do "masculine" work, and accordingly it's easier for them to find jobs in those respective fields. This concept also applies for women. However, women have more to worry about than just their names, employers also take their husbands' names (or lack there-of) into consideration. Generally, women who take their partner's name or a hyphenated name post-marriage are perceived as being stereotypically more feminine. Employers assume these women to be "more caring, dependent, and emotional, but less intelligent, competent, and ambitious," and thus are less likely to hire them. Women who keep their own name instead of adopting their husbands', are seen as being less feminine with assumed associated traits completely opposite of the above (veering towards the masculine side), and were not only hired more frequently, but also awarded larger salaries.

Just some things to think about before you blurt out your name or ask for someone else's. What does your name mean to you? Where has it gotten you thus far, and where is it leading you? In the great words of Shakespeare,

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet."

Would You Like Parts With That?

Earlier this week, my mom presented me with an "assignment." Not interested in hearing what I expected to be a laborious task, I displayed my stitched up knee. "Doesn't it look more swollen today?" My mother kept talking. "Sarah, your dad and I would like you to find a restaurant for us to eat at for our anniversary," throwing in "... and we want you to come, so make sure you'll eat there too."

Was she really giving me this throwback? My dad has always been the chef of the family, and I, the lowly admirer (or on a good day sous chef), have mostly just been best for making reservations. Actually, at a certain time, I was pretty decent at uncovering the city's hidden gems. But since I moved up north, I've felt a little out of touch with Atlanta, and haven't kept up with its restaurant scene. So what's a girl to do? This was like rock climbing after a winter off: you're a little rusty on locating a route to the top. Phew!

So, I hopped on the computer and reacquainted myself with some of my favorite Atlantan restaurant bloggers. Generally, my family eats a lot of french food, but I was on a mission-- searching for a bold food adventure! Without the restraints of this regular search boundary, I was able to explore all types of cuisine metro Atlanta had to offer... South African, Ethiopian, Tex-Mex. Then, I found it. An upscale, yet non-pretentious gastro-pub: Holeman and Finch Public House, located right on the edge of Midtown and Buckhead. Yes, it was the one.

The day came as we pulled up to the valet, walked in, and were seated. A kooky, red-glasses-wearing waitress greeted us, and sooned turned out to have very impressive knowledge of the menu, which was compiled of unique ingredients, many that were unfamiliar to me. H&F wins its aclaim for, according to Creative Loafing, being "a chef's restaurant... [with] all the food that chef's want to serve, but restaurant owners refuse to allow." So what delicacies were introduced that night?

H&F's entrance... greeted by the kitchen!

I started off with a creative cocktail made by Chef Greg Best (awarded one of America's top ten "mixologists" by Playboy Magazine) christened "Neutral Grounds." It was an enticing mixture of bourbon, fresh lemon juice, raspberry liqueor and Angostura bitters, topped with Victory Prima Pils and sprinkled with fennel pollen. Booze, booze, and beer-- what a concoction! Surprisingly, theses fixings fused into the acute flavor of grapefruit. Deeelicious. In the meantime, my parents split a bottle of Spanish wine. We were also pleasantly surprised to find the menu was tapas (small plates) style, and immediately ordered a long list of items to share.

First, we were presented with the red and yellow watermelon salad (yes, there are yellow watermelons) with lime créme fraîche. The cubed fruits were vaccuum packed with small bits of lime to infuse the flavors, making them more intense. Each bite of this starter was sweet of melon, lush and creamy with the créme fraîche, and bursting with droplets of lime juice. Simple, refreshing, and cleansing.

We had a few more small dishes (fried pickles, quail, mussles, deviled eggs) before veering off the culinary cliff. We had entered the "parts" section of the menu. Committed to the experience, I smiled while requesting an order of veal brain; my parents followed with their requests for sweetbreads and veal fries. What had I gotten us into? Did I really just order brains?

Minutes later, the brain was served. "You ordered it Sarah; you get first bite." My mom nudged the plate towards me. The brain looked like a small chicken breast, lightly breaded. Not too bad, I thought to myself, I can do this. I tried to convince myself that I'd eaten things just as unusual. First (and last) bite lay in my mouth, flowing over my tastebuds. The brains have the same consistency of a soft cheese, like Brie, but I could feel the natural folds of the tissue, and this just set me off. I could not get past the texture. Downed a few more sips of cocktail, and signed for someone else to dive in. No more brains for me.

Next, sautéed veal sweetbreads served a-top raw black-eyed peas. I was slightly more familiar with these, the thymus gland of a cow. These were shaped interestingly, they sort of looked like 2"x2" molars. A little lumpy, but certainly square. As I chewed, the texture was something I was comfortable with- firm, like a day old bread pudding. The fresh peas cut the fatty taste and the flavors melded marvelously.

Finally out came our order of schnitzeled veal fries with a gremolata of orange zest, lemon zest, and parsley. I kept running through my mental dictionary. Fries? Certainly not the same thing we're asked to supersize at McDonalds. Fries. Fries. Fries. So, as both of my parents were digging in, I sat pondering. Finally I resorted to naming some edible parts of a calf. Brisket...knuckle...fillet...loin... though I certainly do not have a diagram of calf parts in my mind, I could not figure out what I was missing. Loin... groin! Are both of my parents eating what I think they are? Am I about to eat that? You bet. Baby cow testicles... god, it doesn't get classier than that, right? And you know, as far as "parts" go, these beat both the brain and the thymus. No, they did not "taste just like chicken," but they were good. Good enough that fans in Illinois hold an annual "Testicle Festival," which has more balls "than you can shake a stick at." While I doubt that my liking for fries will ever grow this deep, it sure is great knowing I'm not the only one.

We topped off the night with deep-fried peach pie, a coke float with boiled peanut ice cream, and a decadent chocolate cake. This was all I could ask for. Maybe not the regular definition of a "fun time," but we had a great one! I tip my hat to Chef Linton Hopkins, named one of Food & Wine Magazine's Best New Chefs for 2009, for his courage and exquisite execution. He changes the menu frequently, so I will surely be dropping by for more of his clever palate pleasers!

1] Executive Chef Linton Hopkins and his Executive Sous Chef Ryan Smith

2] The quirky Holeman and Finch Public House crew

3] Acclaimed "mixologist" Greg Best

Bon Appetit Y'all!

Sleepwalkers Anonymous

A few weeks ago at work, I was having a daily chat with two of my favorite kids. Kayla, seven years old, and Bryson, her eight year old buddy, have been friends for as long as they can remember. This time the conversation steered over into Bryson's accounts of Kayla sleepwalking... and though the topic isn't new to me, I was inspired to learn more and uncover silly stories of sleepwalkers all over the world. Thus, a new post is born!

the left picture is a little Sigmund Freud-esque, you see it?

Sleepwalkers have been featured on headlines countless times throughout the years. Also, since sleepwalking, or somnambulism, causes sufferers to engage in "wakeful" activities, when really they are asleep, some people have been aquitted of severe charges like rape by pleading that they were sleepwalking at the time of the offense. Records hold that jury acquitted these defendants because the criminal activities were "involuntary and unintentional." Hmm...

Steering from the "sexsomniacs" to a lighter note, a UK woman who regular exercised and maintained a low-fat diet was puzzled over her dramatic weight gain. She went to specialist upon specialist to figure out why she could not maintain a steady weight, but received no clear answer. It wasn't until she woke "with broken biscuits in the sheets and all over [her] face," that she was finally diagnosed with Sleep Related Eating Disorder (SRED), which meant that essentially every night she would sleepwalk her way to the kitchen and "go straight for the snack bars and sugary treats." She consumed over 2000 calories a night for years without even realizing it.

Though sleepwalking isn't very common, affecting only 18% of the population, mostly young boys, a London hotel group experienced a "surge in naked sleepwalkers among guests" which pushed executives to publish a "sleepwalkers guide" for hotel staff, advising hotel staff on how to handle the nocturnal naked wanderers. Desk attendants were advised to keep towels up front, to preserve guests' dignity if found unclothed in the wee hours of the night.

I'm sure there are many many more crazy stories of sleepwalkers, but these were just a few I wanted to share. A bit of a disconnected post, but sweet dreams/happy sleepwalking!

Michael Jackson Lives On

When the King of Pop died a few days ago, I was overcome by a gloom I never expected. I genuinely was upset over a celebrity, and I'm not one to idolize high-profile figures nor do I surf TMZ. Driving home from work that heavy night, his music diffused across the airwaves; his hits endless, and with ease they cut straight to my core.

I came across some crazy conspiracy theories when researching the results of his autopsy: he was abducted by aliens, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad had him killed to direct attention away from the chaos in Tehran, or my favorite- he's still alive! (is MJ moving inside of the body bag?) As one journalist reported, "nothing as routine as heart failure would suffice for the grand finale of this extraordinarily talented man."

Admired or despised, Michael Jackson is a legend. His tumultuous childhood paved the way for an even rougher adulthood. But despite his eccentric personal life, his genius in sound orchestrated a timeless dimension of music that will forever transcend generations.

Michael Jackson Tribute Mix

O Craigslist, My Craigslist

As of late, I've been a huge habitué of Craigslist. It's an all-encompassing conglomeration of listings sure to fulfill any need users have for entertainment, gigs, drugs, housing, or personal connections. The website swarms with controversy as it continues to push the barrier of political correctness and social comfort through transsexual erotic services ads, people posting free Bibles because they "don't believe in that stuff anymore, but if you do here you go," and rants and raves on the President, taxes, whatever. I really see Craiglist as a tool for social progress... of course in an encrypted "it's not supposed to be that way" kind of way.

On my search for other Craigslist fans, I learned about a man named Michael Ferris Gibson. Gibson, a San Francisco native, was captivated by Craigslist when the website was still newborn. He browsed every section, contacting users through their anonymous emails requesting authorization to follow them through their listing experiences. The resulting documentary, 24 Hours on Craigslist, was completed in 2005 and featured in nine film festivals, winning "best feature documentary" along the way. So, learn about the joys of Craigslist, or perhaps depths of it you never knew existed. Enjoy!

view the trailer here: http://24hoursoncraigslist.com/subs/trailer.html

I have the full film if you are interested in seeing more!

The Pill... for men?!

     Just like the title says-- soon there may birth control for men!  China is flying ahead working to create an effective yet reversible male birth control.  One of their biggest hurdles is funding the project.  Drug companies like Wyeth, Schering, and Organon are skeptical: if they provide the money to support further developments of a male contraceptive, will men actually be interested in using them?  Due to this slow progress, scientists working in the field predict that it will be atleast 5-10 years before the FDA approves any form of male birth control for distribution.

     According the the Male Contraception Coalition (haha... honestly, what a cause), the most recent compounds for male birth control were discovered by the contraceptive side effects of relatively old anti-cancer, high blood pressure, and schizophrenia medications.  These active ingredients suppress sperm production and have been isolated and manipulated to create a wide range of birth control options for men.  These medications may come in the form of a seasonal shot, subcuntaneous implants, or a daily pill.

     Similar to the female birth control pill, the male pill is 100% effective so far... in the men that it works for.  An enigma to researchers is the fact that the male pill doesn't even affect the sperm count of about 10-15% of men, mostly Caucasians, thus making it 0% effective for these few. 

     Onto the side effects. My first thought was greaaat, now men will be just as hormonal as women.  But actually, according to drug trials, the only side effects that men on the pill experienced were slight weight gain, maybe a headache here or there, and very rarely, night sweats.

    

Some predicted results for men jumping onboard the male contraceptive train:

-Higher STD infections due to the decreased motivation for using condoms.

-For once men will have control of the baby situation.  They don't want a kid, no problem. Sick of the feel of a condom on their member, no problem. Rich and some girl wants to get knocked up so she can collect buckets of money- definitely not happening.

-Fewer vasectomies (duh)

Is the "Man Pill" a great advancement or just plain demoralizing?  You decide!