The personal time zone is the concept that no matter what time zone you are physically in, you (and the people around you) adhere to your own personal time zone. For example: I live in Eastern Standard Time, but Meg Standard Time might be three hours earlier, in alignment with Pacific Standard Time.

There are a number of reasons to use the Personal Time Zone. First of all, you have an excellent excuse if you are ever late to anything:

Boss: "Favreau! You're late for our 9 a.m. meeting again! I will not tolerate this insubordination!"
Me: "Hey, chill. I'm sorry I was late for the meeting, but for me, it's just 6:30 in the morning right now. What were you doing at 6:30 this morning in your time zone?"
Boss: "…sleeping."
Me: "Well then. Some of us with Personal Time Zones don't get the luxury of sleeping that late, because we have 6 a.m. meetings."
Boss: "I'm sorry. Can I buy you a frothy latte?"

The Personal Time Zone is also good for gaining popularity in bars. Picture this: it's last call, and everyone is gulping down their final beers, sad that the evening has to end. Then: I walk in. Cheers go up as, suddenly, all the clocks in the room are turned back three hours. I am served with round after round of free drinks, and finally go home after last call, which has been moved to 5 a.m. EST.

I would also like to note that while the Personal Time Zone is a good idea, you’re an idiot if you’re sitting there thinking, "Wow, I wish that was my superpower." The Personal Time Zone isn't time travel, and you sure as hell aren't going to be saving any lives with it. Rather, the Personal Time Zone is something that you buy when you have a lot of money. Trump has one, so that no matter where he is in the world, he is the first to see the sunrise on New Years.

This fall, I appeared twice on Kate Bonner-Jackson's literary radio show, Open Yr Throat and Speak. Kate is a wonderful person, and she gets great Philadelphia writers on the show, most of whom recorded with her in the intimate DIY studio forged in the hallway of her apartment. I love reading my stories out loud, so this was a really fantastic experience for me.

Anyway, I keep forgetting to mention that on the show's website, Kate has posted archives of every single episode. They're all pretty worthwhile. Here are direct links to the episodes I was on:

October 2nd, 2006—"Old Mother Hubbard"
November 6th, 2006—Most of Stories About My Puma

For anyone who doubts that we are moving to a future where our food comes in bland-tasting, vitamin-packed pellets, I present G.O.A.T. That's right, G.O.A.T. Like the animal. Like,

I received a free sample of G.O.A.T. at work today, and the bag promised a "vitamin powered energy crunch" coupled with a "Slammin' Salsa" flavor. What it actually delivered was some sort of peanut device masked within crispy, salty, and mysteriously multi-colored shells. The pamphlet I received with my G.O.A.T. pellets noted that they have a "homemade look and feel." I can only assume by the silver package and the fact that G.O.A.T. Foods resemble nothing ever made in a home or commercial kitchen that G.O.A.T. pellets have actually been sent back in time FROM THE FUTURE to warn us of IMPENDING DANGER. Either that or the creators of G.O.A.T. Food grew up in a Combos factory, and their mothers only fed them various flavors of pellet-shaped Combos (including the highly experimental "juice and egg").

In truth, G.O.A.T. here stands for "Greatest of All Time," because the G.O.A.T. Food & Beverage Company is themed around MUHAMMAD ALI (who is, according to their website, the most recognized man in the world). Every type of pellet-product has a different boxing name, and the bags are glove-shaped. These "completely new, truly authentic, ownable" foods (yes, ownable, unlike all those other foods that, after you purchased them, are still apparently not owned by you) "contain all of the essential nutrition that young adults need to maintain a healthy, active lifestyle", i.e.: they provide the strength to punch someone in the fucking face.

Throw away your spinach, friends, and your beans. Toss out your buckwheat bread and your kale, your lean fish and your stalwart grapefruit. Now, get ready for the food of the future, the food that lets you "indulge without guilt or regret." Get ready to consume bars that provide "one full serving of fruit" and "as much calcium as a glass of milk" and pellets that give you a "delicate yet balanced blend of protein and carbohydrates." Prepare yourself for these "breakthrough identity" snack foods that were first rolled out to Google employees, who these days are equivalent to members of the space program.

Friends, dear friends, get ready to eat G.O.A.T.

People say that subways are good places for people watching. I'm going to narrow that down. The subway is a good place for hair watching. Most of the people on the train are boring (except for the one lady who was "swearing on her father's grave" that she'd punch someone on the crowded evening commute train), but their hair is not. I would like to highlight two of my recent favorites for you:

1) A few weeks ago, I get on the subway and there's this man sitting there in a blue suit. He's older looking—maybe 50—and has gone gray. And there's something about him that looks so WRONG. It's hard to pinpoint. He has...bangs. Not sweepy hipster bangs or curly curly-hair-guy bangs, but the sort of straight-line of cut that is now most commonly attributed to Bettie Paige. And these pointy little sideburns...like...holy shit, Mr. Spock! He has a Mr. Spock haircut! Around the time I figure this out, he starts staring at me. I can no longer stare at him, but I know I haven't figured out all of his secrets yet. So I keep taking those turn-head glances that people take when they're trying to look casual, and I finally realize: the grain of the hair. It's all running forward from the back of his head. It's the coup of the century! I believe that I discovered the greatest bald-spot hiding in the history of male vanity. Plus he had a moustache, which I realized was a clever ploy to distract from the head, as if he was like "Hey! Look! Hair here too! Look I'm talking! Look at it move!" and then he hypnotizes you with his subtle moustache play.

2) This morning there was a woman who looked like she was wearing a wig. Her hair sat awkwardly on her head, like a wig would, and it had this sort of otherworldly luster that I associate with plastic, not hair. The more I look, the surer I am it's a wig—but it looks TERRIBLE. It looks like this woman went on a raging bender and somehow ended up in the back room of Macy's where she found, disheveled and covered in dust, a forgotten mannequin from the 1980's, still dressed in a smart green jacket with shoulder pads and gold buttons. The lady cleaned it before putting it on, sure, but left the slightly curling bangs, the odd angle that the sides of the hair stuck out at (designed as if her head was a roof that needed to let the rain easily spill down), the strange flyaway hairs at the top. The lady was also wearing very large glasses and almost missed her stop because she was sleeping, dreaming...ABOUT HER WIG.

Subway Shatner is an off-shoot (or, some theorize, split personality) of William Shatner, the actor and spoken word artist. Subway Shatner is an Eagles fan who holds a manilla envelope while waiting for the subway. Subway Shatner shares William Shatner's somewhat doughy build, sparkling young eyes, and lumpy-with-age face. However, if you ask Subway Shatner if he was on Star Trek, he will say no. All Subway Shatner knows is riding the rails. And me starting at him. He knows a little bit about that too.

…was a little disappointing. I didn’t really like the yam part of it. Here’s the recipe:

Ingredients:

• 2 yams
• (1) 16 oz. can black beans
• 1 tsp lime juice
• 1 avocado
• 2 tomatoes
• 8 oz. black olives
• 3 tbsp cilantro
• 1/2 hot green chili

The Yam Experience: Peel and chop the yams; heat them in water until soft. Mash with the lime juice. Drain and heat the black beans. Mix yam and black beans together.

The Southwestern: Chop the avocado, tomatoes, olives, cilantro, and green chili, and mix together. Place on top of Yam Experience.

Like I said, there was something with the Yam Experience that didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it was the fact that it was an "experience" instead of a "meal." Today, however, I mixed a half-cup of quinoa with half-a-can of black beans and put the Southwestern on top. And hoo-boy, that was some comfort food.

At 10:50 a.m. this morning, on the first full day of detox diet, I had already craved the following items: 1) shortbread 2) fried "poppin'" shrimp (I should explain for people who read "no meat" in the previous post that I am pescatarian, not vegetarian, although what I eat is vegetarian most of the time).

Last night's dinner (reheated into today's lunch) turned out all right. I will call it Easy Chickpeas with Indian Spices: A Dinner in Fiveish Ingredients. Please note that oil and spice measurements are approximate. I almost never measure either of them, but just pour in whatever looks right.

• 2 tsp olive oil
• Small onion
• 3 tomatoes
• 16 oz. can of chickpeas
• 1/2 to 3 tsp. of various Indian spices (I used garam masala, tumeric, and coriander)

Chop the onion and fry it in the oil. After it clears and starts to brown a bit, add the chickpeas (drained) and the spices, to taste. Heat the chickpeas through (about five minutes) and add the tomatoes. Cook about five more minutes. Serve over batsmati rice.

About a month ago I decided I would begin 2007 with a week of detox diet. It's not a New Year's resolution or anything like that; more a recognition that between the winter holidays and an upcoming trip to Vegas, I would probably be hitting my body pretty hard. Plus I think it's a pretty good idea to clean up shop every now and then and treat myself like a lady. A lady who eats a lot of broccoli.

So I conceived of a one-week diet that based off of a detox my father did a number of years ago when he had an intestinal yeast infection. The main differences between what he did and what I'm planning to do is that he ate meat and I will not, and he couldn't eat fruit and I will. Oh, and I think he did his for about a month, not a week. As of writing this, I haven't even eaten my first detox meal and I'm already jonesing for a hunk of cheese, so I think it's best to start small.

Anyway, this is what I can eat:

• Good grains: Rice, quinoa, etc.
• Fruit
• Vegetables
• Beans and Nuts
• Beverages: Green or herbal tea, water
• Olive oil
• Herbs and spices

And this is what I am specifically trying to avoid:

• Wheat flour
• Sugar
• Alcohol
• Dairy
• Processed anything

I also decided that, in the adventurous spirit of Lewis and Clark, I am not going to use any recipes (they did that, right?). Rather, I have a bunch of approved ingredients in my kitchen and bright ideas in my head (The Southwest Yam Experience, anyone?). In conclusion: I will probably be posting a lot of recipes this week.

Hey: I wasn’t lying when I told you I was making the internet stronger. I spent the long New Years weekend doing what most party-people do: coding the internet. It’s just the blog for the moment, but soon I’ll be bringing back the pages on writing and so forth as well.