Deborah Lipp

I have no cute space-pun about her death. I am genuinely saddened.

Majel Barrett was the widow of Gene Roddenberry, and was best known for her involvement with Star Trek. She was Nurse Chapel in the original series, and Lwaxana Troi in The Next Generation. In addition, she was the voice of all the computers on The Next Generation and in several of the Star Trek movies.

As a stupid aside, I named my GPS after her. I have a female voice in a machine telling me what to do? I call her Majel, what else?

She was diagnosed with leukemia a short time ago. May she be born again to those she loves.

It’s Episode 41, part B. Most of it is in Malayalam, and I arrive at the very end.

Edited to add: The page linked to above is the home page for the TV show. The one shown on top is Episode 40. All episodes are directly below it.

Here’s a direct link to Episode 41, Part B.

Edited for more info: The show is a sitcom about Indians from the state of Kerala (who are known as Malayalee) living in the U.S. As I understand it, the plot of this episode involves a visiting uncle from India, who is an intellectual obsessed with Mark Twain. He is eager to have an authentic American experience, but everywhere he goes, he meets Malayalee. Finally, he meets an America woman (me), and she turns out to be eager to speak Malayalam.

So I was out in the mall, and we stopped at Friday’s for a drink, and there’s a guy in the back with a weird tie-dye shirt. It’s catching my eye because it’s so weird, and I finally realize, he’s got a big rectangle of tie-dye stitched to the back of his Friday’s shirt. He’s wait staff or something, and he’s wearing a red Friday’s polo shirt, but the entire back, shoulders to waist, is this patch of tie-dye.

I can’t stop staring. It’s cheesy fake pre-printed tie-dye, with pre-printed peace signs on it. The guy has a big beard and looks kind of hippie-freaky, but this is sort of an appalling shirt. On the other hand, it’s a tie-dye uniform. I can’t stop staring. it’s just too weird.

My date is not as compelled by this as I am. He is perplexed that I am even interested in discussing it. It’s a tie-dye shirt, so what? But I can’t stop staring and I can’t figure out why it’s sewn to his work shirt.

Then I start looking around, and I notice that all the employees have customized their work shirts. One has a number on the back and a Yankee’s logo on the front, painstakingly done in fabric paint, and if I knew baseball I’m sure I’d recognize the number. One girl has an exquisite full-back rendering of Mighty Mouse, apparently in Sharpie. But one is kind of half-ass, indicating to me that this is some sort of requirement.

It’s flair. Fake individuality.

I actually checked Friday’s website, there’s nothing about this. It must be unique to this particular location.

The whole thing about “flair,” if you’ve seen Office Space, is that fake individuality is not individuality. Corporations co-opting your ability to express yourself is only an ugly reminder that you’re not really to express yourself.

And yet, the shirts are…really something.

I never left the house yesterday. I have been so busy, I don’t know the last time I had an un-booked-up weekend. It was glorious.

I did a great deal of writing on a new book, I did work for the Mad Men blog, I mopped the front hall, did laundry and dishes, watched a movie, played computer games, caught up on a couple of TV shows, shaved my legs, listened to music, prepared my Christmas list and organized the presents I’ve already bought, and did some cooking. Very productive, very relaxing, very exactly what I wanted.

It felt great. It felt like me owning my life.

By the way, anyone who emailed me on Thursday, all my mail went away. Just for about six hours in the middle of the day, anything that arrived then went poof.

This is a serious question. I’ve got a collection of very nice stickers. Some are political and came with acknowledgment of or solicitation for a donation. Some are artistic and came with purchase of an artsy-craftsy thingy. Some I dunno.

I’m not talking cute little things, I’m talking 2-3 inches across, square, round, or rectangular.

Do you make a collage? Paper the bathroom? Seal very large envelopes? I’m kind of at a loss. I like them and don’t want to throw them away but they seem to serve no actual purpose nor have a natural home.

Thanksgiving at its heart is gratitude for food on the table.

How easy to forget, if we are not farmers or animal herders, that this is not easy to achieve. If we are not too poor to buy food. How easy to forget that bounty is not for everyone, is not merely a matter of a very busy supermarket and days of preparation.

How easy to forget that the contentious and argumentative and really frickin irritating family you gather with is a family, a connection to the world and the knowledge you are not alone. That the crying babies are babies, life itself, the continuation of love in the world.

How easy to forget that the cessation of work is because there is work, and the harvest is achievement.

Let us not look inside ourselves and find gratitude. Instead, let us be grateful for that which is right in front of us.

Happy Thanksgiving.

My co-worker Ajay writes a YouTube based sitcom. It is a huge hit, he tells me, with viewers all over the world. It’s also in Malayalam, so when he sent me episode links it’s not like I could tell whether it was well-written. The story is about Indian immigrants in the U.S., so there’s a smattering of English (like, “Okay, fine”).

For many months, Ajay has been offering me guest spots on the show—basically whenever he wants an American. I don’t know if he thinks I’m especially funny or charming, or if he just hits up everyone he knows when he needs guest stars.

So anyway, this weekend we filmed my first episode. I play an American woman married to a Malayali man. I walk up to an Indian gentleman sitting at a park bench and strike up a conversation. I ask where he’s from, he says Kerala, I say “My husband is from Kerala! He’s been trying to teach me Malayalam. I’ve been hoping to meet someone I can practice my language skills with.” Then I greet him in Malayalam and he looks uncomfortable. The camera zooms in on my smiling face. Tune in next time.

We did this outdoors. Often they film in restaurants and cafes, but the week before Thanksgiving, everyone was too busy. It was about 29 degrees out, with a punishing windchill. So naturally I’m walking up to a park bench and fixing my makeup. With gloves on. We were all numb from the cold.

Anyway, so here’s my new career as a sitcom actress. I have no idea what the other characters are about, but I figure that’s good for my character, who doesn’t speak the language; I have purposely not asked for back story for that reason. See? I’m Method.

That was FAST! You guys are too good.

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The other day, my throat was a little sore, so I decided on Boston Market for lunch. Now, if you don’t have Boston Market where you live, let me explain that it’s basically fast comfort food. Nothing is fried. Main courses are roast chicken, meatloaf, and ham. Sides are creamed spinach, mashed potatoes, macs & cheese, stuffing, mixed veggies, and the like. Comfort food. On a cold or clammy day, I love going there.

Now, sometimes they have one soup and sometimes two. They’ll rotate in a special, like most fast food joints. And my throat was sore, so I wanted soup.

I go to the girl and I ask “What’s the soup today?”

She points and says “That one.”

Fail.