A Writer Who Eats Handfuls of Arugula When Stressed

Cultural Critic M.G. Lord Spends a Fortune on Arcane Medications for Her Cats

M. G. Lord is a cultural critic and writer, and a contributor to the anthology Selfish, Shallow & Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on the Decision Not To Have Kids. Before participating in a discussion about why people choose not to become parents, she explained in the Zócalo green room that while she loves burrata, the cheese she most resembles is a hard, brittle cheese—so perhaps it’s simply that opposites attract?

Q:

What’s the last song that got stuck in your head?


A:

It’s probably something really embarrassing. I remember posting about it on Facebook, because someone had mentioned this obscure song I hadn’t thought about in years. But you know, elderly people don’t remember things …


Q:

What’s your favorite under-the-radar spot in L.A.?


A:

I don’t know how under-the-radar any of these spots are now, but I love my neighborhood. I live in the Biscuit Company Lofts [in downtown’s Arts District]. I moved in in April 2007. When I moved in, everything in that neighborhood was under the radar. People made facetious comments about “going down” to 7th and Mateo. Then Church & State opened. Then the Daily Dose. And likewise Little Bear down the street, and I think I go there once a week. I teach at USC, but I like to have my students meet me at the Daily Dose because it feels like we’re real writers, sitting on the cobblestones having coffee. My off-the-radar is on the radar.


Q:

What cheese best describes you?


A:

I’m a big cheese fan actually. I don’t know if it best describes me, but I will say there is in this world one obstacle to me becoming a vegan, and that obstacle is burrata. I don’t know if I myself was ever burrata. I think I would probably be some sort of hard, brittle cheese with absolutely no lactose. But burrata is my weakness. I guess we hard, brittle cheeses are attracted to opposites.


Q:

What word or phrase do you use most often?


A:

I try not to be redundant actually. When I teach, the first thing I make students read is William Zinsser’s essay on clutter.


Q:

What’s the strangest thing in your medicine cabinet?


A:

Probably various expensive and arcane medications for my two cats, on whom I spend enormous amounts of money.


Q:

What’s your dream L.A. celebrity sighting?


A:

My last book was about Elizabeth Taylor, and the celebrities that no longer interest me are no longer alive, so it really would be a dream sighting.


Q:

When is the last time you went swimming?


A:

This morning. Twice. I was under a lot of stress.


Q:

What’s your worst habit?


A:

It’s actually sort of embarrassing. I think I may be addicted—it’s so Westside, it really repels me—but I may be addicted to arugula. Sometimes when I’m stressed I eat whole handfuls of dry arugula like some sort of rodent.


Q:

What did you eat for lunch today?


A:

You mean along with the handfuls of dry arugula? I had a spinach and arugula salad with a little radicchio that I made myself, and all from Urban Radish. I sound like a downtown real estate agent. I’m not! I gain nothing from this.


Q:

What fictional character do you identify with?


A:

Sandy, who’s the central character in what is probably my favorite book, Muriel Spark’s The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. The character Sandy writes a book called The Transfiguration of the Commonplace, and honestly, if I were asked not by this wonderful entity [Zócalo] but a really pretentious publication, what I aspired to in my writing I’d say the transfiguration of the commonplace. And it’s a really pretentious answer, but if you don’t aim high, you’re not going to get high.