–I started the year out in Vicksburg, Mississippi, where I got to know Linda Fondren, an inspiring (and fun!) woman who’s whipping that town into shape. For six years now, Mississippi has ranked as the most obese state in the nation. Fondren decided to do something about that. Two years ago, she issued a challenge to the city of Vicksburg: Lose 17,000 pounds in 17 weeks. She got the whole town on board–the mayor, the aldermen, the chief of police, teachers and the list goes on. She began monthly walks to encourage people to get out and about (which is not easy in Vicksburg, a city with hardly any sidewalks). She had weigh stations set up in spots across town (Wal-Mart, storage facilities, gyms, etc). She got the hospital on board to provide free health screenings. And by the end of 17 weeks, the town was thinner … by 15,000 pounds. What many people saw as a success (huge weight loss!), Fondren saw as a failure. She hadn’t met her goal, and she wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. So she kept at it. Now, two years later, the town has shed a collective 30,000 pounds. I wrote an in-depth feature story about Linda and her impact, which will appear in Southwest Airline’s Spirit Magazine in April.

–Next on the docket, Texas. Even though I grew up in Houston, I had somehow never traveled to Fort Worth. That is, until I got the chance to write about it. I kind of love this town. For one thing, it’s weird, and weird is lovable. There’s a district call The Stockyards where two times a day, a cattle drive rumbles through the streets. The cattle are actually owned by the Fort Worth Convention Bureau (what other convention bureau can lay claim to a herd?) and the drovers (i.e. those who drive the cattle) are employees of the convention bureau. The point of the whole thing is to pay tribute to Fort Worth’s history as the last watering hole on the Chisholm Trail, before opening up to the wild, wild west. So twice a day, seven days a week, drovers dressed in old-fangled clothes drive the cattle down the cobblestone streets in the middle of this historic district. Also in Fort Worth: Billy Bob’s, the world’s largest honky tonk (and also the first honky tonk I’ve ever done seen). While all of these things are pretty fitting for a Texas town, what surprised me about Fort Worth is its impressive museum district. There are multiple art museums, the Museum of Science and History and even the Cowgirl Hall of Fame, all within walking distance. Just a couple miles away is the lively downtown, where tasty Texas restaurants and darling boutiques make for an entertaining stroll. The travel piece I wrote about Fort Worth will run Luxury Las Vegas magazine, and I’m working on getting it some press elsewhere, as well.

Speaking of Texas, Neil accompanied me to Houston–where I grew up–for a quick weekend trip. It was his first time to visit, and my parents and I made sure that he was well fed. Surprisingly, we only went to Ninfa’s once. We also hit Frenchy’s for the best Italian in Texas and Gaido’s for delicious seafood. We walked the beach in Galveston (it was in the 60s in January), did a five-mile run around my parents’ neighborhood, drove around Seabrook and Clear Lake (I took him to see the glowing grave off Toddville road), and got our arses kicked by my dad at Scrabble. It was a really fun escape. We need to take advantage of that getaway every winter.

And last weekend I spent all of 30 hours in Las Vegas for a Pigtails & Crewcuts conference, where I conducted workshops on blogging. I flew in Friday night and got to have dinner with a few friends. Then I was up early Saturday for a full day of conference activities, following by dinner with the franchisees. It was a fun crew, and I look forward to working with them more throughout the year. They’re forward-thinking and open to new ideas, and I’ve become a blogging machine, so it’s a good match.  I had about an hour between my workshops and the dinner, so I walked up the Strip and checked out CityCenter and the Cosmopolitan. I can’t believe I’ve been gone nearly three years….and yet, aside from the new buildings, nothing really felt different. I caught the red eye at 12:40 a.m. and landed in Chicago at 6 a.m. Sunday. It’s been an energizing couple of months. But now, for the foreseeable future, I’m pretty darn thrilled to be home.

Thank you, Forbes, for naming Chicago the sixth most miserable city in the nation. In doing so, I imagine you’re keeping some sort of riffraff away and further endearing the city to those of us who live here and love it. That’s right, love it.  I’ve lived in Houston, Oberlin, Boulder, Colorado Springs, Las Vegas and Chicago, and Chicago ranks galaxies above all of them. It’s the only city I can honestly say I love.

But as I click my heels and dance my jig, don’t let me get in the way of your wallowing. According to Forbes, the reason of the misery is this: “The Windy City is a cultural and financial center, but its residents must endure gridlock traffic, high property taxes and brutal winters. Commute times to work average 31 minutes, eighth worst in the U.S.,” Forbes says.

That said, I don’t own a home (which means I don’t pay property taxes or shovel my own walk). I work from home so I don’t have a daily commute, and aside from walking the dog I really don’t have to leave my house much in winter.

Clearly, this Forbes report also misses a lot of key points. For one, we’ve got a pretty impressive public transportation system, alleviating the need to have a daily car commute. Don’t like the train or the bus? We have a dedicated contingent of intrepid cyclists and pedestrians who power their own commute every single day. They’re smart to do so, considering the calorie burn needed after consuming boundless amounts of to-die-for food sold everywhere, from neighborhood dives to places like Alinea, Charlie Trotter’s, Les Nomades and the list goes on. These days, when I travel abroad, I look forward to coming home to the food scene that defies any I’ve ever buffeted upon.

And then there’s the entertainment. Some days, a ride on the El suffices for $2.25 worth of slack-jawed amusement. Other times the entertainment is even cheaper–many of the museums around town are free, as are the parks and the ever available walk down Michigan Avenue or along Lake Michigan. Or head over to Julius Meinl or Intelligentsia for a thick coffee and a chat. This is the Midwest, after all, and people are generally friendly and open. They’re also, I’ve learned, smart, kind, adventurous and fun-loving, whether they’re drinking beer in the dead of winter dressed as a polar bear, searching for the city’s best pizza, taking in an architecture walking tour, learning to make dumplings at a Chinese Cultural Center class or just out running errands.

And the winter? Sure, it’s usually pretty monstrous, or at least it can be. Last year’s blizzard, however thick, brought out the best in neighbors and strangers, who exited the warmth of their apartments with the curiosity of a baby, bright-eyed and amazed by a world buried in white like they’ve never seen. Of course, that was 2011. In 2012, you’re more likely to hear conversations like I did while shopping last weekend. “Do you even think it’ll snow again this year?” “I hope so.” That, it should be noted, was in early February, at a time when we’re all usually cabin-fever-filled and ready to flee to Jamaica.

But don’t take just take my word for any of it. To illustrate, I put together a slideshow of some of the reasons I love Chicago.

It started with a commercial. Greasy human fingers were gleefully ripping apart finger-like tendrils of Popeye’s fried chicken from what looked like a fried palm.

“Have you seen this? The Chicken Ripper?” asked Neil. “It looks like a hand.”

“I want to put White Castle Chicken Rings on that Popeye’s chicken hand,” I said.

And from there, an art project/taste test was born. We set out to gather all of the fast-food chicken gimmicks we could find and compare them (while also putting chicken rings on chicken fingers).

The line up:

Popeye’s Rip’n Chick’n

Burger King Chicken Fries

White Castle Chicken Rings

Chick-fil-A chicken nuggets*, strips* and a spicy chicken sandwich*

(*While these don’t seem immediately gimmicky, they are. Chick-fil-a began as a chicken sandwich slinging shop and grew its repertoire to include all kinds of products, but they’re really all just takes on the same ol’ same ol’ chicken.)

White Castle sliders** and cheeseburgers**

(**These little fellas somehow just jumped into my car at the WC drive-thru. I don’t know what happened, I swear!)

The tasters:

Me, Neil and our dedicated friend Shannon (who does not love chicken, she’s more of a beef/sausage kinda gal)

The process:

Taste a bite and give a one-word review. In some cases, a second word was also allowed. In emergencies, a third. The second and third words are set apart in parentheses.

The reviews:

Popeye’s Rip’n Chick’n

Shannon: Sinewy. (Alarming).

Neil: Disturbing.

Kate: Childhood. (Surprising).

Chick-fil-A Spicy Chicken Sandwich

Shannon: Layered.

Neil: Wow. (Slow-burn).

Kate: Redeeming.

Burger King Chicken Fry

Shannon: Cork. (Turdish). (Spongy).

Neil: Coated.

Kate: Corpse. (Dissection). (Frog).

Chick-fil-A Chicken Strip

Shannon: Cluck-cluck.

Neil: Real.

Kate: Sweet.

White Castle Chicken Ring

Shannon: Oh…

Neil: Processed.

Kate: Tyson?

Chick-fil-A Chicken Nugget

Shannon: Tidbit.

Neil: Traveled.

Kate: Chicken-y.

The next step:

In the end, we discussed and rated them. One thing that should be noted, the chicken wasn’t entirely fresh. There was much coordinating, fetching and discussing that took place before we dove in. That, according to Neil, means that the Chick-fil-A is usually better (Neil would also probably return to the Catholic Church if they replaced communion wafers with Chick-fil-A Nuggets).

The item that held up best through the travels was the Spicy Chicken Sandwich. This was also the only item that had foil packaging. Coincidence? Not likely.

You’ll see by our rankings, below, that we each valued different qualities in our chicken gimmicks. Shannon and Neil preferred the more natural products, like Chick-fil-A, while I opted for the processed chicken, like the White Castle Chicken Ring, which happens to taste more like soy chicken products (Boca chicken patties, for example). We all agreed that the Spicy Chicken Sandwich was better than any of the other chicken products.

Also, I’d like to note that while the White Castle sliders and cheeseburgers were not meant to be a part of the competition, they did top all of our lists, hands down. “Eating White Castle is like eating a tumor,” said Shannon. “But it’s delicious.”

Results:

Shannon

1. White Castle Cheeseburger

2. Chick-fil-A Spicy Chicken Sandwich

3. Chick-fil-A Chicken Strips

4. Chick-fil-A Chicken Nuggets

5. Popeye’s Rip’n Chick’n

6. White Castle Chicken Rings

7. Burger King Chicken Fry

Neil

1.White Castle Slider

2. Chick-fil-A Spicy Chicken Sandwich

3. Chick-fil-A Chicken Strips

4. Chick-fil-A Chicken Nuggets

5. Burger King Chicken Fry

6. White Castle Chicken Ring

7. Popeye’s Rip’n Chick’n

Kate

1. White Castle Cheeseburger

2. Chick-fil-A Spicy Chicken Sandwich

3. Popeye’s Rip’n Chick’n

4. White Castle Chicken Ring

5. Chick-fil-A Chicken Nugget

6. Chick-fil-A Chicken Strip

7. Burger King Chicken Fry

Note: This was originally posted in 2011. I’m reposting it in honor of Super Bowl Sunday 2012.

I avoid making New Year’s resolutions on Jan. 1. But, having not blogged since Dec. 12, I’m making a Chinese New Year’s resolution: Today, I will blog.

We celebrated Chinese New Year early this weekend and what a fabulous celebration it was. The Chicago Chinese Cultural Institute hosted the Eighth Annual Chinese New Year Dumpling-Making Dinner. For two and a half hours, we made dumplings, learned about Chinese New Year traditions, ate course after course of great Chinese food by Chinatown restaurant Hing Kee, watched a lion dance and mixed and mingled with some fine Chinese folks (who seemed intrigued that we’d heard about the event from Crain’s, of all places.)

Some observations:

- No two dumplings are created equal. After washing our hands with wipes (thank you for supplying those!) we got to choose between pork + shrimp or veggie fillings, and then wet, fill, fold and seal the dumplings. We, along with about 30 others, then put them on plates and they were boiled in back. That means there was mixing and mingling of dumplings, and the odds of eating the ones you made were minimal. I had three dumplings and only one was made with solid precision. I love the idea of learning to make dumplings, but if I’m going to eat one, I’d rather have it from a pro (or one that I made).

- Chinese food is far more innovative and delicious that I credit it. And that must be because most Chinese restaurants stick with the lowest common denominators of food, like General Tso’s chicken and sweet and sour pork, which, while delicious, would never entice me to eat at a Chinese restaurant in this day and age. However, after this meal, I would totally reconsider that and put more time into exploring Chinatown. We started out with some incredible pumpkin and seafood soup, then moved on to an appetizer platter of phenomenal fried eggplant, fried wontons, marinated cucumbers and seaweed, followed by giant meatballs, crab fried rice, fried whole fish, beef with garlic, lemon chicken, abalone mushrooms with bok choy and braised tofu. It was fantastic.

- I have still not met a Chinese dessert I would eat by choice. Sticky rice ball soup and water chestnut cake? My philistine palate just doesn’t understand.

- Dancing lions are impressive (and difficult to photograph)! I’ve always taken them for granted from afar. But one found its way into our banquet room, and the two men working it flexed some impressive acrobatics.

- The Chinese like money. Money and wealth came up over and over again when talking about symbolism and gifts on New Year’s Day. I guess I don’t blame them.

Thanks to the Chicago Chinese Cultural Institute for a truly enlightening day. May the adventurous tone be set for the rest of the Year of the Dragon.

And may I blog again sometime before March.

By Kate Silver
The hot words for hair and hair accessories in 2011 were
“feathers,” “pink,” and “The Justin Bieber” (followed by “the haircut
formerly known as the Justin Bieber”).

With 2012 just around the corner, we polled kids’ hair-care
specialists across the country to find out what to look forward to in
the coming year. In sum, expect to see their hair accessories big, their
hawks “faux” and their products natural (and smelling like bananas).
This is what else we found:

Hairstyles
For older girls, the face-framing long layers are in, says Theresa
Lamb, manager of Pigtails & Crewcuts
(www.pigtailsandcrewcuts.com/glenview) in Glenview, Illinois, and
so are hair tinsels—shiny, metallic strands that are tied into the hair
by a stylist. Those clamp-on feathers, seen on everyone from Steven
Tyler (who’s credited with bringing the plumes to fame) to Jennifer
Love Hewitt, Miley Cyrus, Selena Gomez, Hilary Duff are losing their
allure with the tween crowd, but the trend isn’t over yet, according to
Lamb. “I think the younger girls are starting to get more into the
feathers now, because they’ve seen older siblings wearing them.”
Also popular for girls: The classic bob and braids, including
waterfall and fishtail braids.

Boys spent the last year striving to be Justin Bieber—even long
after Justin Bieber had moved on to a less mussed
look. But now, the boys are asking to look like the guys
on the Nickelodeon series, “Big Time Rush.”
“It’s actually similar to the Justin Bieber,”
admits Lamb. In addition, faux hawks and
skater-like mushroom cuts are popular. But
most of all, Lamb says she focuses on doing
whatever works best with the lad’s hair. “A lot of younger
boys have cowlicks, so you have to work around that and give them a
style that’s good for them,” says Lamb.

Hair Accessories
Big is better, when it comes to hair accessories—and just about
every girl is will be accessorizing their hair in 2012. Kara Dahn, coowner
of Queen Bee Barrette (www.queenbeebarrette.com), based in
Newburyport, Massachusetts, says that
large barrettes, fluffy flowers and bold,
classic bows are a way of making a
feminine statement. “It’s girly, it’s like
high fashion,” she says. Popular colors for
the coming year include ivory, pink,
orange, brown with polka dots, animal prints and anything metallic
or glittery.

Annie Sayer, co-founder of No Slippy Hair Clippy, Inc.
(www.hairclippy.com), based in Vacaville, California, says that she’s
seeing an increased interest in headbands in all age groups—from
babies through adults. Sayer says she expects bright colors with fun
and whimsical themes to be a big hit in hair
accessories in 2012. “People really want to dress their
kids bright and fun,” says Sayer. “Parents want to
brighten things up, because things have been hard the
last few years,” she says. By spending just $5 to $10,
adds Sayer, hair accessories are a simple way take an
outfit to the next level and make a statement without
spending a fortune.

Hair Products
For years, parents expected kids to share their adult hair
products, assuming that hair of all ages had the same needs. Now,
kids have access to kid-centric lines, made with high-quality
ingredients to keep their hair pure and free from chemical damage.
Dick Hegener, president of Custom Formulations, a hair care
manufacturing company based in Cologne, Minnesota, says that
parents are really embracing more natural products aimed specifically
at kids, including styling aids (i.e. hair-spiking balm),
like Pigtails & Crewcuts’ Groovy Goo. He said that busy
moms on the go gravitate towards Pigtails & Crewcuts’
No No Knots, a detangling spray that makes it easy (and
painless) to make sense of bed head, without
shampooing, and kids are also drawn to products for
their inviting scents, like the strawberry-scented Pigtails & Crewcuts
Berries and Bows conditioner and grape-like Goofy Grape shampoo.

Scott Knapp, account executive with Circle of Friends
(www.cofbath.com), which is based in Los Angeles, says that
shampoo scents such as raspberry and pineapple have also developed
a huge following, and he expects banana to be a popular scent in
2012. In addition, Circle of Friends, which specializes in gentle kids
shampoo that is free of harsh chemicals, including sodium lauryl
sulfates, will be coming out with a new product aimed at kids that’s
similar to Moroccan oil, giving the hair a beautiful finishing shine.
“This is something that’s grown tremendously in the adult category,”
says Knapp. “Moroccan oil is everywhere.”

Knapp adds that the place that Circle of Friends is seeing the
most growth is the lice prevention category. That’s right—prevention.
“In the past, when you were dealing with lice, you were dealing with
treatment,” says Knapp. “It’s been proven time and again that people
are getting more sophisticated, as they realize there are ways of
actually preventing lice from getting into the home.” Circle of Friends
sells a line of products that combine tea tree oil, lavender and other
oils that actually repel lice. “If there is a lice outbreak and the children
are using our products, they will not get lice,” says Knapp.

While I love being connected to many in the FB community, I was tired of getting caught up in other peoples’ relationships (and relationship endings) like some kind of living Mexican soap opera. I was unimpressed by your breakfast cereal selection. I don’t care about most of your kids.

And yet, there I was, at any given moment of quiet, reading up on your updates, and, further, reading into them. I read them after phone interviews. I read them while trying to come up with a witty headline. I read them while trying to remember if it’s an “associate” or “associate’s” degree and whether bachelor’s is lower case. I read them while waiting in line. I read them first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

As a self-employed solo worker, I began viewing these updates like my co-workers, providing constant fodder and water-cooler white noise.

It became a kind of tick, like a cyber-Tourettes.

Initially, my goal was to eschew both Facebook and Twitter for Google+ for the week. I’d been lazy about learning the perks of G+ and figured that in the absence of the other two, I would immerse myself. “It’s only a way of connecting with the smartest people on the Internet,” my G+-fanboy boyfriend said. But I have to say, I still am missing the appeal. I’ve gone there a few times and it just doesn’t have the suck-you-in factor, for me, that the other social sites have.

“You have to look at the area updates,” Neil said. He told me that it’s most interesting on your phone, where you can look at the feed from people nearby. I told him I wasn’t looking at it on the phone, I was looking at it on the computer. “Oh,” he said. “You’re right, on the computer it does kinda suck.”

The FB-free first day was a challenge. Slammed with post-Thanksgiving deadlines, I observed myself coming to a momentary break in a grant-writing project and my phalanges itched to type in that eight-letter url. If not that, then at least the seven-letter one? I resisted.

Actually, Neil and I began sending status updates back and forth.

“Fb update,” he texted me. “Just another manic Monday.”

“Fb update,” I wrote back. “I need a vacation from my vacation. Gah.”

“Like,” he wrote back.

Of course, these are things neither of us would have posted on Facebook. But the texting continued.

“Fb update: I will never buy cheap towels again! Do these things come in queen?”

“Fb update: I picked a good week to stop using Fb.”

“Fb update: Do cats find the smell of our pee as offensive as we find theirs?”

“Fb update: That Cenegenics guy freaks. me. out.”

When detoxing, you’ve got to get it all out of your system, right? I quickly replaced my urge to check Facebook with other online tasks. I blogged. I checked the stats on my blog. I checked how many times my other blog, at Inspiratoblogs.com, had been shared. I read the news. Each distraction was a momentary break. I didn’t get sucked in the way I do with those other sites, and I relatively felt free of mental clutter.

A couple of days into it, my cousin texted me that my other cousin, who’s pregnant, is having a girl. I texted back and we caught up a bit over the next couple of days. I then let my sister and Neil know that a girl cousin is on the horizon. “I know,” both told me. “I saw it on Facebook.”

I was proud that I’d heard it personally. I’d expected the week would make me feel disconnected, but it was actually quite the opposite.

I have no plans to dismantle either my Fb or my Twitter account. But I will be going into next week with a fresh perspective and an awareness of my cyber weaknesses. All in all, I’d say this has been a good experiment.

“Fb update: [Insert bad 12-step joke about FB here]“

Elves on Ice

In Iceland, the holidays are the best time to spot the elfin population.
The ‘Hidden Worlds’ tour gives insight into these little people,
who do far more than bake cookies and help Santa.

Raucous applause fills Hamborgarafabrikkan, a popular gourmet hamburger
restaurant in Reykjavik, Iceland, as a young server stands on a wooden ladder
and stretches her arms to change a “3” into a “4” so that the latest population
count of Iceland reads “319,724.”

For this isolated island country, which is about the size of Kentucky, a new
addition is reason to celebrate. But ask around, and you’ll find out that human beings
aren’t the only worthwhile population in Iceland. Here, they say the world of hidden
people is also very much alive—particularly at Christmas time.

If you’re in Iceland right now, or heading that way, make your way to the nearest
intersection, grab a gray cat, and wait. According to folk tales, that’s the best way to
spot an elf.

That’s right, an elf. You know—about three feet high, skinny legs and arms, pointy ears? Elves are said to be everywhere in Iceland—particularly living in rocks, hills and trees—and Christmas, New Year’s Eve and January 6 (as well as June 24) are the best days to spot one. At least, that’s what my elf-tour guide, Sibba Karlsdottir, says.

She tells me this as we’re walking around Hafnarfjordur, the self-proclaimed elf capital of Iceland, located about a 10-minute drive from the capital, Reykjavik. Looking around at the lunar-like lava rocks, it’s easy to imagine seeing something curious out of the corner of your eye—particularly in the wintertime, when there’s often more than 20 hours of dark each day.

As Karlsdottir leads the way through lush green parks and along sleepy residential streets, we don’t see a single person in passing. “There was a survey that we ran here in this town a few years ago, and 54 percent said they believed in the elves,” says Karlsdottir, who leads the Hidden Worlds Walks tour Tuesdays and Fridays throughout the year, and schedules private tours for other days. Still, she says, even if an Icelander doesn’t believe in elves, try getting him to break down an elf rock. They’ll all refuse, she says. Every single one of them.

“So that can tell you something,” she smiles. With her small stature, red-apple cheeks and red hat, she actually looks a touch elfin.

Iceland is, after all, only 1,800 miles from the greatest employer of elves (or so we’ve been told): the North Pole. To put that in perspective, that’s about the distance from Las Vegas to Chicago. As the sleigh flies, not a bad commute.

But it turns out our American version of Santa’s elves are very different from Icelandic elves. There, the Santas, themselves, are elves. Known as Jolasveinar, which means “Yule Lads,” the 13 impish elves are descendants of two child-eating ogres (let us not forget that the Icelandic people are descendants of Vikings, and their children’s stories reflect that). The elves, while not child-eaters, haven’t always been the philanthropic creatures you might hope would come down from the mountains at Christmas time.

“They used to come and harass people. One would slam the door, one would steal candles,” says Karlsdottir. “They’ve improved over the years.”

But they still tend to be troublemakers, and each has a name corresponding with the particular prank to which he’s prone: There’s Þvörusleikir the Spoon-licker, Gluggagægir the Peeper, Bjúgnakrækir the Sausage-pilfer, Hurðaskellir the Door-slammer, and the list goes on. They each come down the mountain, one a day, beginning 13 days before Christmas, and put a gift inside a child’s shoe. Bad children receive rotten potatoes. “We don’t have coal,” explains Karlsdottir.

After Christmas, they head back up to their mountain dwelling one by one, sausage-pilferers, spoon-lickers, peepers and all, returning by January 6.

Of course, just because the Yule Lads are gone doesn’t mean the elf activity stops. Not in Iceland, where roads have been rerouted and buildings halted because of reports of elf activity. (Actually, the reports are about failed equipment, after which a seer, i.e. psychic is called in and describes the presence of elves.)
Karlsdottir says that there are a couple of stories that tell the origin of the elves. She shares one that dates back to Adam and Eve.

“God the almighty paid a visit to Adam and Eve,” she says, taking on a dramatic tone. “Eve was a good mother. She expected her children to be clean, and when God arrived some of the kids were still dirty. And Eve felt ashamed. So she decided to hide them. When God visited, he asked her, ‘Do you have any more kids?’ ‘No,’ she said. Of course, God knew, and he said, ‘What’s hidden to me shall be hidden to humans,’ and these children became invisible. And started to live in rocks.”

She points out different rocks, telling stories about the elves that live within. One has a metal stake sticking out of it, after a man decided he wanted to break the rock and build his house here. An elf caught the stake, however, and it’s been stuck there ever since. The man, rather than risk the wrath of elves, decided to build his house further up the street.

Karlsdottir began giving these tours years ago, after working for the Iceland tourism bureau, where she saw firsthand the great interest outsiders had in elves. She has her own theory about why the Icelandic people know elves so well, and it has to do with their extreme isolation. Stories of the elves date back to Norse mythology, and have carried through the centuries. Icelanders once relied on storytellers for entertainment. They would travel from farm to farm, earning their room and board through their narratives. She thinks that’s how the elf stories migrated and evolved across the country.

Or maybe it has something to do with the surreal, moon-like landscape and moving shadows, the rocks shaped like trolls, the lack of sunlight and the prevalence of a drink called Black Death. Whatever it is, if you’re traveling to Iceland, you should book a tour and decide for yourself. And you may want to take an extra-large suitcase along. Just in case.

To learn more about the Hidden World Walks go to www.alfar.is/Index/English/.

Nevertheless, it’s here. From the massive mall lines to the twinkling porch lights and the Christmas carols that radio host Delilah has been playing since Halloween, it’s undeniably that season. Which is exciting, because that means we get to read more Santa stories. Not just the usual “Santa lands” stories, meant to perpetuate Santa’s story to kids, but weird stories about the subculture of Santa. (In fact, I just created a Google alert for Santa Claus stories).

The first one to catch my eye this season is in today’s New York Times: “In Gloomy Economic Times, Santas Learn to Help by Curbing Expectations.” In it, we learn of the Harvard of Santa schools in Michigan, where the Misters Claus are taught to keep it simple, have sweet-smelling breath and always keep their hands visible. We also learn that they have the power to step in and suggest kids shorten their list, maybe be a little less greedy.

I first became interested in Santa stories when I heard the This American Life piece about sparring factions of Santas, including a Santa coup from the group The Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santas (AORBS). Admittedly, nothing can beat that story. But I did do my own piece on AORBS, pitting real bearded Santas vs. “designer,” or fake-bearded Santas, for Vegas Seven magazine last year, called “The Bearded Ones.”

I also met, though Facebook, a friend of a friend who has been a mall Santa for years. A traveling Santa (Santas often travel because, I’m told, malls don’t want to have a bearded one that kids could recognize), Billy Mo Buckbee was living in a hotel in Mississippi and commuting to the local mall. While he was suited up and doing his best to keep Santa alive for the kids, his Jeep was robbed. Friends band together and raised more than $300 to replace the GPS and other items that were stolen. I wrote about that incident here.

This year, I hope to delve more into the Santa culture and am on the lookout for odd Santa-centric stories. I’ve got a few brewing, but if you know of any, feel free to share.

Today: Words/phrases to banish, or, at the very least, avoid:

* Starting a sentence, in conversation, with “So.” When did this happen? Why does everyone in their 30s now do this? Happens in my interviews all the time.

Example:

Me: “Describe your job to me.”

Them: “So what I do is….”

* Troop, in reference to a single military unit, i.e. person

* Police unit, in reference to a single police car or person

* Orientated

* Thank you in advance

* Leveraged

* Deliverables

* House-made

* Hand picked/Hand selected

* Gone missing/Went missing

* At the end of the day…

* Entitled, when referring to the title of something. “The book is entitled…”

* Overuse of “capital,” i.e. human capital, thought capital, etc.

* Overuse of curator, i.e. web curator, design curator, food curator, etc.

* Best practices

* “Acquisitioned”

* Actionable

* Circle back

* “___” is the new black

* Wheel house

* Overuse of large verbs and “relationship.” “I excel at facilitating relationships.” I don’t believe anyone who says that.

* Engaged, engaging, engagement as it refers to work.

* Bandwidth

* Green belt/anything Six Sigma

* Synergy

* Re-engineer

* Win-win

* Low-hanging fruit

* Core competency

* Any phrase with “fail”

* Any phrase with “epic”

* To “socialize” an idea

* Any use of “party” as a verb. Particularly, “sorry for partying.”

* “Big-girl panties”

* Uber

Now you go. What phrases would you like to put in front of a death panel?