Monthly Archive for December, 2003

As soon as I leave town to head back to Brandeis, demolition begins for our little home remodel. I haven’t seen the plans and don’t actually know what is going to change, but one major part of it is re-apportioning my room. End result: all of my things need to be moved out. Right now I’m focusing on my collected papers of the last nine years.

It’s painful. Every new paper I overturn brings back memories, of my first two years of college, of high school, of middle school. I’d love to keep everything, and preserve it forever both in paper and online, but apparently I’m not allowed to do that, so most of it gets trashed. I’m setting aside things to scan in, assuming the scanner downstairs works, works well, and works quickly — it’s a fair amount of papers. Things I think I’m gonna keep: essays and essay prompts, exams, high school writing portfolios. Things that get dumped: all my homework, as fascinating as it is to look back at all the things I’ve studied (and mostly forgotten), and to remember people I’ve shared my life with, if only briefly, in classes.

It’s funny, because when I went to college I decided to treat it as a clean slate, a chance to start over, a tabula rasa, if you will. And in the process, as was somewhat my intention, I forgot about the drudgery and pain and silliness and stupidity of my high school years. But in the process, I forgot about the many good things about high school as well. Sifting through these relics of my life causes me to remember…and throwing them away ensures that I will, again, forget. And the memory will be harder to retrieve without these guideposts to show me the way.

Sad.

One of my favorite restaurants, Corner Bakery, has undergone a bit of a shift at it’s Irvine Marketplace branch since the last time I’ve been home. When last I ate there, and since it’s opened, customers would enter the restaurant, pass a few displays, and queue in a short line that takes them past a counter/display case showcasing all of their food. You would order, your food would be prepared and given to you, you’d put it on your tray, and slide it down to the register to pay, cafeteria style. The design was elegantly simple — newcomers had a chance to see all of the available food options without having to just read a menu, and traffic was managed effectively as people moved quickly through the line.

Now, the line is gone, the area is rearranged, and the display cases are no more. While things like salads and soups were dished out right in front of the customer before, they are now hidden in the back, along with the sandwiches and such. There is no food sitting out except for the baked goods, and there is no queue. Now, you enter through the front door, look at the menu, approach a cashier, and place your order. It is a very, very bad change.

The new layout creates a choke point at the door as people line up before the registers. No more are crowds swept into the restaurant through an elegant queueing system; now they are bunched up in a line. Worst of all, because food is no longer prepared in front of the customer, there is a much higher rate of errors. Since I have to sit down before I can receive my food (delivered to my table), I have no opportunity to correct someone if they put the wrong soup in the bowl, if I want a different kind of bread, or whatever the circumstance is. And the last time Shaina went to a Corner Bakery, they forgot to bring her her order, and then didn’t believe her when she went to the counter to ask for it!

At the same time as this change happened, trash receptacles and dish bins were removed, I assume so that customers no longer feel the need (or have the ability) to clean up after themselves. That one confused my mom to no end. Are we supposed to leave everything on the table now, or not? Were we before? Do we need to tip now? The old design was unclear, yes, but now it is perhaps moreso.

All in all, Corner Bakery’s new approach to dining — and it’s gradual transformation into a more full-service restaurant — is a major disappointment, and a very poor choice.