Today I found 2 of my friend’s blogs that I didn’t know existed and it made me jealous. Ugh.. I write.. so why am I not writing? Well, I got out of the habit. Plus, I think I’ve been afraid that I don’t have things to write about… but that’s just baloney… so there! I’m writing… catch me if you can.
I’m at work. Probability is that most of these blogs will be written while at work. I’m going to try to update and weekly and see how it goes.
Ok.. so where am I at?! Well, that changes daily. Yesterday, I was riding a bit of a bummer. I am going through a break up w/ previously mentioned dude-guy. And I’m still riding the wave of good days and bad days from that, but today I happen to be on an “up wave,” despite work being crazy busy, and anticipating dude guy coming in to work in the next hour or so (yeah, we work together… sucky, huh?)
Anyway, there are mega good things going on to be happy about! For starters, my cat Dinah, is taking to toilet training quickly. Right now she uses a make-shift litterbox, made out of a distorted aluminum turkey pan, placed above the toilet bowl, under the toilet seat and filled with litter. I won’t change up things on her for at least another few weeks, than phase 2 begins! Phase 2 includes a platform (made out of something sturdy, still haven’t figured it out yet). With a smallish hole in the middle in which Ms. Dinah can scratch at some litter and hopefully successfully position herself over the hole to do some pooing. The research I’ve done suggests that they usually miss… and Phase 2 is the stinkiest and most difficult of the phases. So, I have that to look forward to. The rest of the phases include gradually making the hole in the platform larger and reducing the amount of litter in the bowl until… VOILA! No need for the platform or the bowl… and you’ve got a people-toilet using cat. This is the goal w/ Dinah! I am confident that she will come through!
Other stuffs going on; I’ve been really into yoga lately! I love it. Although, I have to admit, my backs been feeling a little cruddy. It’s all those backbends and weird twists and stuff. But I am pretty careful with my form so I don’t hurt myself. But I think this is just the normal aches that come with bending in ways that are awkward and unfamiliar. I’m definitely going to take it easy, but when I got into yoga, I jumped in with both feet. Immediately I was doing it 3-4 times a week, so of course my body is going to have to adjust. Anyway, anyway… I do love yoga. I’m glad it’s come into my life.
So, Carmel comes tomorrow. Yes, I’m very excited! I love playing PDX tour guide. I have some fun ideas of what to do and I just hope it’s not too hot to do them (it’s supposed to be upper 90’s/100 all week)
Ok.. that’s all. I WILL WRITE AGAIN NEXT WEEK SO HELP ME GOD. It is imperative to my growth as a writer. That’s all.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Saturday, October 18, 2008
a life update for the out of touch.
Today flew by… like crazy- flew by. I can’t believe it’s almost 8pm, I’ve been at work studying for almost 12 hours and it really fucking flew by. My life is so busy with school that I feel almost guilty for writing this, because this is time I could be studying more… taking notes on my biology reading, studying for my writing test, reading my psychology, etc.. etc.. That’s really how my life has been lately. I bought Lynda Barry’s new book WHAT IT IS last week and hardly cracked it open. My “daily” journal has been demoted to a “weekly” journal, with holes in timelines, and events with no explanation of the days leading up to or following them. But, I’m happy. I’m busy, but I’m getting through it.
For those of you who I haven’t spoken to in a while and the ones that haven’t been able to catch me when I’m not running off somewhere- here’s my life in a nutshell:
1. I’m AN AUNT!! Yesterday, October 17, my sister had her baby, a 9lb 4oz baby boy named Boston Michael Fasbender. I am really psyched to be an aunt! I was originally going to visit for Thanksgiving, but considering that I can’t find a plane ticket for under $600, and will only have 2 days off from school in which to visit, I’m thinking of making Detroit my X-mas destination instead. But, I am so happy that the baby is here! He’s healthy and Joy had a good birth experience- that’s all I really care about.
2. School. I pretty much breathe and eat school right now. I’m taking 14 credits; psychology, bio for health professionals lecture w/ the addition of a treacherous lab once a week and Pilates on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I’m also trying to keep up with my normal gym routine 3-5 mornings a week. I feel like I’m constantly playing catch-up, slipping behind and then catching up just in time to fall asleep and play catch up again the next day. It’s a good busy, mostly because so far I have straight A’s in all my classes and midterm is next week. If I can keep up this routine for another month and keep my grades up, it’ll all be worth it. I definitely plan on going a little easier on myself next semester. Right now I have zero days off, which I didn’t think would be a big deal- but it really is. Definitely need to schedule in some time off next semester.
3. Speaking of school, I’m pretty sure I will not be applying to nursing school in January. I would rather keep up with the prerecs at community college and apply at OHSU and the like in 2010. I decided this for several reasons, first off- I just haven’t been all that pumped or focused on applying to a 2-year school for January and I think it’s because I’m just not ready for it. Plus, I’m on a roll at PCC. And I need to eventually go to a 4-year school so I can walk away with my BSN and from there get my masters in midwifery. It just makes sense to me right now. What’s another year, right?
4. Fall. Ah… how I love Fall. It makes me miss New England in a bad way, the rolling hills and mountains of oranges, yellows, reds and browns. The crisp air, the smells of wood-burning stoves and fireplaces as you walk down the street drinking cider cradled in gloved hands while leaves crunch under your feet. Sure, we get some of that in Oregon… but, it’s not like home. But, I’m trying to enjoy the fall here as much as I can. Last week I made a winter-vegetable pot pie that came out amazing and a ginger-apple pie that filled my apartment with cozy, cinnamon smell. I’m feeling rather domestic! Too bad I’m never home. But, I’m trying to enjoy it as much as possible when I am.
5. I am tempted to reveal that I am seeing someone who is pretty awesome. I am hopeful and cautious about this relationship and super guarded about who knows about it and how many details they know. I want to reveal how this relationship is helping to make the stress of school bearable, helping to make the fall romantic and cozy, and awakening dreams in me that I had given up hope of having. That said, it’s still really early and things could go either way with this person, so I am keeping my feet on the ground, although sometimes I find my head in the clouds.
I appreciate everyone who knows keeping it quiet and assisting me in keeping with the 13th law of Courtly Love: “When made public love rarely endures.”… Which isn’t to say that I’m IN LOVE with this person; it’s WAY too soon for that, I’m just seeing where things go privately… And those of you who don’t know the details please respect that and be happy that for now, I’m happy.
6. Amanda Palmer. Ok, I admit it I’m crazy about Amanda Palmer. She could very well be the person I’m speaking of in #5. I love, love her and I physically got my tickets to her show Dec. 12 last week. Yippee!! Seriously, I am really psyched about this show. It’s the day after my birthday- so who’s into coming along??!!
For those of you who I haven’t spoken to in a while and the ones that haven’t been able to catch me when I’m not running off somewhere- here’s my life in a nutshell:
1. I’m AN AUNT!! Yesterday, October 17, my sister had her baby, a 9lb 4oz baby boy named Boston Michael Fasbender. I am really psyched to be an aunt! I was originally going to visit for Thanksgiving, but considering that I can’t find a plane ticket for under $600, and will only have 2 days off from school in which to visit, I’m thinking of making Detroit my X-mas destination instead. But, I am so happy that the baby is here! He’s healthy and Joy had a good birth experience- that’s all I really care about.
2. School. I pretty much breathe and eat school right now. I’m taking 14 credits; psychology, bio for health professionals lecture w/ the addition of a treacherous lab once a week and Pilates on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I’m also trying to keep up with my normal gym routine 3-5 mornings a week. I feel like I’m constantly playing catch-up, slipping behind and then catching up just in time to fall asleep and play catch up again the next day. It’s a good busy, mostly because so far I have straight A’s in all my classes and midterm is next week. If I can keep up this routine for another month and keep my grades up, it’ll all be worth it. I definitely plan on going a little easier on myself next semester. Right now I have zero days off, which I didn’t think would be a big deal- but it really is. Definitely need to schedule in some time off next semester.
3. Speaking of school, I’m pretty sure I will not be applying to nursing school in January. I would rather keep up with the prerecs at community college and apply at OHSU and the like in 2010. I decided this for several reasons, first off- I just haven’t been all that pumped or focused on applying to a 2-year school for January and I think it’s because I’m just not ready for it. Plus, I’m on a roll at PCC. And I need to eventually go to a 4-year school so I can walk away with my BSN and from there get my masters in midwifery. It just makes sense to me right now. What’s another year, right?
4. Fall. Ah… how I love Fall. It makes me miss New England in a bad way, the rolling hills and mountains of oranges, yellows, reds and browns. The crisp air, the smells of wood-burning stoves and fireplaces as you walk down the street drinking cider cradled in gloved hands while leaves crunch under your feet. Sure, we get some of that in Oregon… but, it’s not like home. But, I’m trying to enjoy the fall here as much as I can. Last week I made a winter-vegetable pot pie that came out amazing and a ginger-apple pie that filled my apartment with cozy, cinnamon smell. I’m feeling rather domestic! Too bad I’m never home. But, I’m trying to enjoy it as much as possible when I am.
5. I am tempted to reveal that I am seeing someone who is pretty awesome. I am hopeful and cautious about this relationship and super guarded about who knows about it and how many details they know. I want to reveal how this relationship is helping to make the stress of school bearable, helping to make the fall romantic and cozy, and awakening dreams in me that I had given up hope of having. That said, it’s still really early and things could go either way with this person, so I am keeping my feet on the ground, although sometimes I find my head in the clouds.
I appreciate everyone who knows keeping it quiet and assisting me in keeping with the 13th law of Courtly Love: “When made public love rarely endures.”… Which isn’t to say that I’m IN LOVE with this person; it’s WAY too soon for that, I’m just seeing where things go privately… And those of you who don’t know the details please respect that and be happy that for now, I’m happy.
6. Amanda Palmer. Ok, I admit it I’m crazy about Amanda Palmer. She could very well be the person I’m speaking of in #5. I love, love her and I physically got my tickets to her show Dec. 12 last week. Yippee!! Seriously, I am really psyched about this show. It’s the day after my birthday- so who’s into coming along??!!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
more on the keepers of quiet.
For some strange reason I believe that if I keep singing at my desk it’ll make it all better.
"Lean in close and speak to me low
Tell me things you want me to know
'Cause i want to be the one
You need to
Lean to
Speak to me low
Regretful it's the time of year for letting go
Wasting all my time 'cause you just tease me
Please leave me alone
Scared of the feeling of you coming home
I'm leaning out the open windows
Looking into the alley below
Rooftops black and the moon's hanging low
And the telephone wires
That carry the sound
Stretch across the sky
And under the ground
And i will be here
When you come back
And speak to me low
Speak to me low
I'll pretend that
It's okay
We'll just be friends
So the wires say"
.... I’m not entirely wrong here. It really does chill me out a little bit amongst the constant phone and call bells ringing, amongst the distrustful visitors that think I’m trying to make their life harder before I even open my mouth. The visitors that give me a hard time about our 2-people at a time-policy. Yeah, I made it up- I instilled this rule to make YOUR life harder. I’ve never met you, but I sure have it out for you.
"But i will be here
When you come back
And speak to me low
Speak to me low"
Ok, I’m done complaining about work. That’s not what I want to write about and that’s not what you want to read about. And truth be told, I don’t have much to complain about- this job acts as a constant reminder of how friggin lucky I am. No one in my family is a patient here. They are at home and they are healthy.
What I do want to talk about it Rainer Maria Rilke and this concept of “guardians of solitude.” As I sit here at my work desk, every word typed is a chore- CONSTANT interruption. I know it has taken you 5minutes to read this far, but it’s taken about a ½ hour to type, thanks to the phones. And like I said, I have NO intention of bitching about work, I want to write more about this Guardians of Solitude concept I read about in a Rilke poem, but right now all I can think about is how much I could use a guardian of solitude right now. Someone or something to swoop down, pick up each ringing distraction and let me write in peace. This sometimes happens thanks to my considerate co-workers and perhaps I’ve overlooked their importance at times, theses occasional keepers of quiet.
So, I guess I am intrigued by this concept- perhaps foolishly, but it’s a way of looking at relationships that I’ve never been able to employ until recently. I’ve historically wanted to “own” my partners and to know their deepest and darkest. I would strive to tie us together, disbelieving in the vast distances between us. I wanted to know what possessed their heart, the past lovers, friends, family, the first girl they kissed at recess. And these caverns of the heart haunted me because, as I know now and what I wished I would have known then, is that you will never know another person fully. And really, who would want to? What fun is taking the mystery out of everything? Plus, I couldn’t share all the dimensions of my being with another person- and I don’t want to. Will future lovers really want to know about the romantic night I spent with Noah or all the promises Mike and I made to each other? Do they want to hear that some of those connections still exist? Maybe they are hidden deep, maybe they are just under the surface, but I hold a lot of things sacred. I have a lot of love to keep and to share and this is what makes me human and whole.
Rilke realizes this. The key to a happy marriage is to appoint one another the guardian of each other’s solitude, to give license to keep these things quiet. To give one the ability to share and to not share. To trust the other to keep these caverns sacred and private, trusting them not to use these distances to hurt the another. To make the present priority. To give up control and let what will be, be.
I tried to dominate once, to perhaps, rob someone of their solitude and it ruined us. I didn’t trust him, and maybe that was somewhat sensible since in the end he wasn’t trustworthy. However, that doesn’t really matter. How he responded has nothing to do with me, it doesn’t affect the path I am on and what I am to learn. Being a liar is his cross to bear, not mine. Not allowing myself to be victimized or unable to trust again is what I need to focus on. What stands out about the relationship is how I acted, how I can be better in the future and in the future I ‘aint going to hold on to the tail of anyone’s kite. I’m not going to hold onto anyone’s tail anymore. It’s not worth it.
What makes a happy marriage is living your life and letting the other person live theirs. It doesn’t involve fear, fear of losing them to another person or a grand new adventure. That’s life and we should be glad when the person that means the most to us can fly. Sure it’s sad when it doesn’t involve us, but we can’t let that fear keep the other caged.
What matters is that for right now we’re here together and we can be happy. We can and should give each other the world, not because it’s forced, but because we want to.
Anyway, another reason I’ve been so obsessed with this Rilke poem is because I would sort of like to write a zine based on my interpretation of what it means to be a “guardian of solitude” – and give examples of guardians in my life. Or people that were lousy guardians or potential guardians that I would like to see come into my life in the future. I think it would be an interesting writing exercise and might bring some overlooked people into the light as well as help me see the flaws in past relationships.
"Lean in close and speak to me low
Tell me things you want me to know
'Cause i want to be the one
You need to
Lean to
Speak to me low
Regretful it's the time of year for letting go
Wasting all my time 'cause you just tease me
Please leave me alone
Scared of the feeling of you coming home
I'm leaning out the open windows
Looking into the alley below
Rooftops black and the moon's hanging low
And the telephone wires
That carry the sound
Stretch across the sky
And under the ground
And i will be here
When you come back
And speak to me low
Speak to me low
I'll pretend that
It's okay
We'll just be friends
So the wires say"
.... I’m not entirely wrong here. It really does chill me out a little bit amongst the constant phone and call bells ringing, amongst the distrustful visitors that think I’m trying to make their life harder before I even open my mouth. The visitors that give me a hard time about our 2-people at a time-policy. Yeah, I made it up- I instilled this rule to make YOUR life harder. I’ve never met you, but I sure have it out for you.
"But i will be here
When you come back
And speak to me low
Speak to me low"
Ok, I’m done complaining about work. That’s not what I want to write about and that’s not what you want to read about. And truth be told, I don’t have much to complain about- this job acts as a constant reminder of how friggin lucky I am. No one in my family is a patient here. They are at home and they are healthy.
What I do want to talk about it Rainer Maria Rilke and this concept of “guardians of solitude.” As I sit here at my work desk, every word typed is a chore- CONSTANT interruption. I know it has taken you 5minutes to read this far, but it’s taken about a ½ hour to type, thanks to the phones. And like I said, I have NO intention of bitching about work, I want to write more about this Guardians of Solitude concept I read about in a Rilke poem, but right now all I can think about is how much I could use a guardian of solitude right now. Someone or something to swoop down, pick up each ringing distraction and let me write in peace. This sometimes happens thanks to my considerate co-workers and perhaps I’ve overlooked their importance at times, theses occasional keepers of quiet.
So, I guess I am intrigued by this concept- perhaps foolishly, but it’s a way of looking at relationships that I’ve never been able to employ until recently. I’ve historically wanted to “own” my partners and to know their deepest and darkest. I would strive to tie us together, disbelieving in the vast distances between us. I wanted to know what possessed their heart, the past lovers, friends, family, the first girl they kissed at recess. And these caverns of the heart haunted me because, as I know now and what I wished I would have known then, is that you will never know another person fully. And really, who would want to? What fun is taking the mystery out of everything? Plus, I couldn’t share all the dimensions of my being with another person- and I don’t want to. Will future lovers really want to know about the romantic night I spent with Noah or all the promises Mike and I made to each other? Do they want to hear that some of those connections still exist? Maybe they are hidden deep, maybe they are just under the surface, but I hold a lot of things sacred. I have a lot of love to keep and to share and this is what makes me human and whole.
Rilke realizes this. The key to a happy marriage is to appoint one another the guardian of each other’s solitude, to give license to keep these things quiet. To give one the ability to share and to not share. To trust the other to keep these caverns sacred and private, trusting them not to use these distances to hurt the another. To make the present priority. To give up control and let what will be, be.
I tried to dominate once, to perhaps, rob someone of their solitude and it ruined us. I didn’t trust him, and maybe that was somewhat sensible since in the end he wasn’t trustworthy. However, that doesn’t really matter. How he responded has nothing to do with me, it doesn’t affect the path I am on and what I am to learn. Being a liar is his cross to bear, not mine. Not allowing myself to be victimized or unable to trust again is what I need to focus on. What stands out about the relationship is how I acted, how I can be better in the future and in the future I ‘aint going to hold on to the tail of anyone’s kite. I’m not going to hold onto anyone’s tail anymore. It’s not worth it.
What makes a happy marriage is living your life and letting the other person live theirs. It doesn’t involve fear, fear of losing them to another person or a grand new adventure. That’s life and we should be glad when the person that means the most to us can fly. Sure it’s sad when it doesn’t involve us, but we can’t let that fear keep the other caged.
What matters is that for right now we’re here together and we can be happy. We can and should give each other the world, not because it’s forced, but because we want to.
Anyway, another reason I’ve been so obsessed with this Rilke poem is because I would sort of like to write a zine based on my interpretation of what it means to be a “guardian of solitude” – and give examples of guardians in my life. Or people that were lousy guardians or potential guardians that I would like to see come into my life in the future. I think it would be an interesting writing exercise and might bring some overlooked people into the light as well as help me see the flaws in past relationships.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
the guardian of solitude
I’m pretty sure it was the poet Rainer Maria Rilke who wrote that
The first couple that accompanied on my flight from Boston to my stop over in JFK airport had been downright annoying, giggling and talking loudly. They couldn’t have been any older than 20, and from what I pieced together from observing the hard violin case they stored in the overhead compartment and eavesdropping on their hard-not-to hear conversation, they played music together. He was the violinist, she sang. I also overheard, in their playful bantering her tell him that she liked him as more than a friend. She grabbed her iPod back from him, put the headphones back on her ears, sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. He stopped for a second looking at her. They both laughed, which gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling. Unless this was some bizarre joke, something new and potentially exciting was happening in my row, right next to me. These are the kinds of situations that change people, make them reevaluate, inspire them and open their eyes to the world.
Ok, so maybe they weren’t that annoying. Maybe they were downright adorable and endearing. But I’m a little jaded, I guess. And sitting next to loud, coupley-types on an airplane… even if it is only a 45 minute ride gets a little under my skin, which brings us to couple number two.
Ok, so we got off to a bad start. The people I was about to spend the next 6 hours sitting next to all but yelled at me when they found me sitting in their window seat. This was an innocent oversight on my part, I had mistaken for 22C for 22A, the aisle seat, but the girl acted as if I was trying to mischievously get away with something. Or maybe that’s just her voice. At this point in my life I find it much easier to get through the day by giving people the benefit of the doubt, so we’ll just chock it up to an inherited abrasive vocal tone, I have enough to worry about and really, if you’re that mad about someone being in your seat, you deserve REAL problems. Anyhow, her partner was a cute, ponytailed, gypsy looking fellow who kind of reminded me of the cute ringleader and co-founder of my favorite burlesque sideshow, the Bindlestiff Family Cirkus. This made me think that maybe this couple isn’t so bad after all. Maybe they practice sword swallowing after dinner or throw knives at each other to blow off steam. At any rate, despite my bias, I really knew nothing about these people. We didn’t speak at all the entire plane ride, and what was more interesting to me was that they hardly spoke to one another.
He read, watched the Colbert Report and chomped on complementary blue chips. She.. Well, I don’t know what she was doing in her oh-so important window seat during those 6 hours. At one point, I couldn’t help but notice she used her drop down tray as a foot rest, which totally grossed me out because A. People eat on that and B. She was wearing flip flops and I have a weird annoyance with people that wear flip flops on airplanes and in busy public settings (like on public transportation… don’t ask why, even I don’t understand it). No words were exchanged, maybe at one point he offered her a blue chip- but that’s pretty much it. I instantly got judgmental and thought about how I want to be with someone I can TALK to. Maybe I was traveling alone, but how lonely it must be to sit next to someone your with and have nothing to say to them. I also watched body language, no thigh touching, not a snuggle or caress, nothing. I did observe a quick peck in the airport before we boarded, and perhaps they aren’t big PDA people. But, talking… how could they spend 6 hours next to one another and have nothing to talk about? Then I remembered that Rainer Maria Rilke quote I had recently stumbled upon. Maybe these 2 were acting as guardians of each other’s solitude? It’s a beautiful quote. To think of a significant other as your guardian in any respect is a beautiful thought, especially of something that doesn’t involve them, your individual solitude. And I’m pretty sure that’s what Rilke was getting at with that quote, in fact if you read on he continues to say;
Back in May I was in downtown crossing in Boston and I remember observing this couple in a bagel shop. They were clearly “together,” yet through all of lunch neither spoke. I tend to see this as a bad sign. I remember writing in my diary and wondering if they were happy or in love. God, sometimes I can be so pretentious. But, I guess it stands out to me since what attracts me most to people and especially potential partners is the quality of conversation. Does this person give me good insight? Can I talk about my outlook and do they understand where I’m coming from even if they don’t necessarily agree? Can I be totally myself and be accepted? Can we be frank? Can we joke or not joke, knowing each other’s intentions? Can we travel together and not drive each other crazy, discuss arrivals and departures? Metaphorically? Do we both notice the ridiculous mustache on the man who cut in the security line? Can we talk about the ridiculous homeland security we just went through together? I guess this is stuff I might be interested in talking about on a plane, with a partner or otherwise… stuff that might come up on a 6-hour flight. But, maybe I’m just a motor mouth.
All I know is that I like talking and it would be hard for me to sit next to anyone, unless they were a stranger, for 6 hours without conversing at all. That is, unless, of course, I was exhausted or asleep or really out of sorts.
I like the thought of sitting quietly with a partner while they read and I craft. I am excited to think of us doing our separate projects and having stories of the day’s adventures and mishaps to share at the end of the day. I am as excited to think of sharing those adventures because we are both excited to do things together. It excites me to think of myself as being the person to be the guardian over someone’s solitude, to insure they have their time to themselves to be the best person they can be, to help facilitate quiet and freedom before the immense sky.
“a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other the guardian of his/her solitude.”I pondered this as I sat next to my second couple in a row on my stop over flight from New York to Portland.
The first couple that accompanied on my flight from Boston to my stop over in JFK airport had been downright annoying, giggling and talking loudly. They couldn’t have been any older than 20, and from what I pieced together from observing the hard violin case they stored in the overhead compartment and eavesdropping on their hard-not-to hear conversation, they played music together. He was the violinist, she sang. I also overheard, in their playful bantering her tell him that she liked him as more than a friend. She grabbed her iPod back from him, put the headphones back on her ears, sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. He stopped for a second looking at her. They both laughed, which gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling. Unless this was some bizarre joke, something new and potentially exciting was happening in my row, right next to me. These are the kinds of situations that change people, make them reevaluate, inspire them and open their eyes to the world.
Ok, so maybe they weren’t that annoying. Maybe they were downright adorable and endearing. But I’m a little jaded, I guess. And sitting next to loud, coupley-types on an airplane… even if it is only a 45 minute ride gets a little under my skin, which brings us to couple number two.
Ok, so we got off to a bad start. The people I was about to spend the next 6 hours sitting next to all but yelled at me when they found me sitting in their window seat. This was an innocent oversight on my part, I had mistaken for 22C for 22A, the aisle seat, but the girl acted as if I was trying to mischievously get away with something. Or maybe that’s just her voice. At this point in my life I find it much easier to get through the day by giving people the benefit of the doubt, so we’ll just chock it up to an inherited abrasive vocal tone, I have enough to worry about and really, if you’re that mad about someone being in your seat, you deserve REAL problems. Anyhow, her partner was a cute, ponytailed, gypsy looking fellow who kind of reminded me of the cute ringleader and co-founder of my favorite burlesque sideshow, the Bindlestiff Family Cirkus. This made me think that maybe this couple isn’t so bad after all. Maybe they practice sword swallowing after dinner or throw knives at each other to blow off steam. At any rate, despite my bias, I really knew nothing about these people. We didn’t speak at all the entire plane ride, and what was more interesting to me was that they hardly spoke to one another.
He read, watched the Colbert Report and chomped on complementary blue chips. She.. Well, I don’t know what she was doing in her oh-so important window seat during those 6 hours. At one point, I couldn’t help but notice she used her drop down tray as a foot rest, which totally grossed me out because A. People eat on that and B. She was wearing flip flops and I have a weird annoyance with people that wear flip flops on airplanes and in busy public settings (like on public transportation… don’t ask why, even I don’t understand it). No words were exchanged, maybe at one point he offered her a blue chip- but that’s pretty much it. I instantly got judgmental and thought about how I want to be with someone I can TALK to. Maybe I was traveling alone, but how lonely it must be to sit next to someone your with and have nothing to say to them. I also watched body language, no thigh touching, not a snuggle or caress, nothing. I did observe a quick peck in the airport before we boarded, and perhaps they aren’t big PDA people. But, talking… how could they spend 6 hours next to one another and have nothing to talk about? Then I remembered that Rainer Maria Rilke quote I had recently stumbled upon. Maybe these 2 were acting as guardians of each other’s solitude? It’s a beautiful quote. To think of a significant other as your guardian in any respect is a beautiful thought, especially of something that doesn’t involve them, your individual solitude. And I’m pretty sure that’s what Rilke was getting at with that quote, in fact if you read on he continues to say;
“But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.”
Back in May I was in downtown crossing in Boston and I remember observing this couple in a bagel shop. They were clearly “together,” yet through all of lunch neither spoke. I tend to see this as a bad sign. I remember writing in my diary and wondering if they were happy or in love. God, sometimes I can be so pretentious. But, I guess it stands out to me since what attracts me most to people and especially potential partners is the quality of conversation. Does this person give me good insight? Can I talk about my outlook and do they understand where I’m coming from even if they don’t necessarily agree? Can I be totally myself and be accepted? Can we be frank? Can we joke or not joke, knowing each other’s intentions? Can we travel together and not drive each other crazy, discuss arrivals and departures? Metaphorically? Do we both notice the ridiculous mustache on the man who cut in the security line? Can we talk about the ridiculous homeland security we just went through together? I guess this is stuff I might be interested in talking about on a plane, with a partner or otherwise… stuff that might come up on a 6-hour flight. But, maybe I’m just a motor mouth.
All I know is that I like talking and it would be hard for me to sit next to anyone, unless they were a stranger, for 6 hours without conversing at all. That is, unless, of course, I was exhausted or asleep or really out of sorts.
I like the thought of sitting quietly with a partner while they read and I craft. I am excited to think of us doing our separate projects and having stories of the day’s adventures and mishaps to share at the end of the day. I am as excited to think of sharing those adventures because we are both excited to do things together. It excites me to think of myself as being the person to be the guardian over someone’s solitude, to insure they have their time to themselves to be the best person they can be, to help facilitate quiet and freedom before the immense sky.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
July 27,2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
existential constipation
What I need is a good story. Maybe I need a fairytale about a 5 year old violin prodigy, an Olympic hopeful striving to be number one, or better yet, a young, attractive prince in a castle far, far away. Far away from Portland. In a castle very unlike mine. Yes, I've been bitten by the writer's block bug yet again, and even though I'm taking all the right medicine, sometimes you have to let the virus run its course.
Emotions. All it comes back to emotions and my inability to write from the perspective of anyone but myself. Or maybe I am simultaneously not giving myself enough credit, nor am I pushing myself to experiment with writing fiction.. Or nonfiction disguised as fiction or nonfiction written from the perspective someone who might share some of my traits and perspective- But, not based on me, per se. Basically, I need to get over myself.
Last week I was eating lunch with a friend and talking about this feeling of overexposure that comes with putting out a zine:
"I feel like I'm getting caught with my pants down a little and I'm not all that eager to repeat the feeling so soon by writing my feelings down and putting it out." I said, admittedly feeling a little depressed about the probability that I won't have anything new to showcase at the upcoming zine symposium, except Tempo G 2, which debuted in May.
"Well.. why do you feel that way? Like you have your pants are down?" Marc asked. He probably knows more than anyone how I feel, but I assume he was trying to help me process my feelings.
"Um… Probably because I essentially took my pants off. Which is exactly what I tend to do."
Ah, I love being an exhibitionist. I love taking off my pants. I sit in front of the computer and metaphorically masturbate with a keyboard in the spirit of "getting it all out." The good, the bad, the ugly, the boring and the somewhat eventful- it spills. I like it, its cathartic at times- but, it's not always appropriate for you to see all my junk, nor is it any of your business. I tend to question my emotions. I over think them until I they can be processed down to their most basic molecular structure. I like this internal therapist, repeatedly checking in and asking "why do you feel this way?" until the complicated is sorted into the simple, the digestible and what might have been thrown up in a violent spew, is pleasantly pooped out in good time.
But lately I'm not digesting or spewing, I'm more like a ruminating cow.
There is stuff that sits, comes up and back down again. My life is really awesome, but there are feelings brewing that I am having a hard time sorting. I have a lot of unique relationships with people right now that invoke unique feelings and are causing me to challenge my maturity level and my capacity for forgiveness and letting go of situations I have no control over. I also have this strong intuition that is steering me into transplendid emotions that feel "right," but all rationale would dictate are "wrong." This is "the dirt." The "big stuff." This is the stuff that would be most cathartic to spew, but hard to break down. It sits, comes back up and back down again and maybe I just need to let it sit for now and cross my fingers that it doesn't cause an ulcer.
My heart and brain are not in accord. I find myself checking in and asking "what am I doing?" and not really knowing the answer. The result is that I do nothing and hope that in time the answers will become evident. I think this might be some form of existential crisis? Oh, but "crisis" is too harsh of a word… let's return to the poop metaphor and call it "existential constipation." I like that better.
So, I can't write. It would be a mess. It would be equal parts Romeo and Juliet, Driven to Distraction, Pippy Longstocking and Almost Famous (maybe if I thought about it, I could think of better books to describe how I'm feeling- but these will do for now). It would have you thinking I was a schizophrenic freak who doesn't understand herself. And that's not me, not most of the time.
I need a story. One that is not mine. One that is not me with my pants down, constipated and wearing dirty underwear for the entire world to see. One where there's a happy ending and an end to the agonizing backdrop of a heart that refuses to mend itself, one where the heroine's underwear is clean and solid, healthy poops are excreted into a grand, golden, royal throne. Maybe she has a little dog and ruby slippers, long golden locks locked in a tower, maybe she has an evil stepmother and a poison apple. Maybe she forgives like Jesus, abstains like Mother Theresa and has the will power of Gandhi.
Maybe she unlocks the secret to writers block and get's "it." And realizes that this is perhaps, if history repeats, most likey all part of something bigger than herself.
existential constipation
What I need is a good story. Maybe I need a fairytale about a 5 year old violin prodigy, an Olympic hopeful striving to be number one, or better yet, a young, attractive prince in a castle far, far away. Far away from Portland. In a castle very unlike mine. Yes, I've been bitten by the writer's block bug yet again, and even though I'm taking all the right medicine, sometimes you have to let the virus run its course.
Emotions. All it comes back to emotions and my inability to write from the perspective of anyone but myself. Or maybe I am simultaneously not giving myself enough credit, nor am I pushing myself to experiment with writing fiction.. Or nonfiction disguised as fiction or nonfiction written from the perspective someone who might share some of my traits and perspective- But, not based on me, per se. Basically, I need to get over myself.
Last week I was eating lunch with a friend and talking about this feeling of overexposure that comes with putting out a zine:
"I feel like I'm getting caught with my pants down a little and I'm not all that eager to repeat the feeling so soon by writing my feelings down and putting it out." I said, admittedly feeling a little depressed about the probability that I won't have anything new to showcase at the upcoming zine symposium, except Tempo G 2, which debuted in May.
"Well.. why do you feel that way? Like you have your pants are down?" Marc asked. He probably knows more than anyone how I feel, but I assume he was trying to help me process my feelings.
"Um… Probably because I essentially took my pants off. Which is exactly what I tend to do."
Ah, I love being an exhibitionist. I love taking off my pants. I sit in front of the computer and metaphorically masturbate with a keyboard in the spirit of "getting it all out." The good, the bad, the ugly, the boring and the somewhat eventful- it spills. I like it, its cathartic at times- but, it's not always appropriate for you to see all my junk, nor is it any of your business. I tend to question my emotions. I over think them until I they can be processed down to their most basic molecular structure. I like this internal therapist, repeatedly checking in and asking "why do you feel this way?" until the complicated is sorted into the simple, the digestible and what might have been thrown up in a violent spew, is pleasantly pooped out in good time.
But lately I'm not digesting or spewing, I'm more like a ruminating cow.
There is stuff that sits, comes up and back down again. My life is really awesome, but there are feelings brewing that I am having a hard time sorting. I have a lot of unique relationships with people right now that invoke unique feelings and are causing me to challenge my maturity level and my capacity for forgiveness and letting go of situations I have no control over. I also have this strong intuition that is steering me into transplendid emotions that feel "right," but all rationale would dictate are "wrong." This is "the dirt." The "big stuff." This is the stuff that would be most cathartic to spew, but hard to break down. It sits, comes back up and back down again and maybe I just need to let it sit for now and cross my fingers that it doesn't cause an ulcer.
My heart and brain are not in accord. I find myself checking in and asking "what am I doing?" and not really knowing the answer. The result is that I do nothing and hope that in time the answers will become evident. I think this might be some form of existential crisis? Oh, but "crisis" is too harsh of a word… let's return to the poop metaphor and call it "existential constipation." I like that better.
So, I can't write. It would be a mess. It would be equal parts Romeo and Juliet, Driven to Distraction, Pippy Longstocking and Almost Famous (maybe if I thought about it, I could think of better books to describe how I'm feeling- but these will do for now). It would have you thinking I was a schizophrenic freak who doesn't understand herself. And that's not me, not most of the time.
I need a story. One that is not mine. One that is not me with my pants down, constipated and wearing dirty underwear for the entire world to see. One where there's a happy ending and an end to the agonizing backdrop of a heart that refuses to mend itself, one where the heroine's underwear is clean and solid, healthy poops are excreted into a grand, golden, royal throne. Maybe she has a little dog and ruby slippers, long golden locks locked in a tower, maybe she has an evil stepmother and a poison apple. Maybe she forgives like Jesus, abstains like Mother Theresa and has the will power of Gandhi.
Maybe she unlocks the secret to writers block and get's "it." And realizes that this is perhaps, if history repeats, most likey all part of something bigger than herself.
July 04, 2008
Friday, July 04, 2008
summer.. so far...
Proof of how fast summer came to Portland was evident as emptied my laundry basket. I threw the dirty tank tops into the wash, and tank tops gave way to increasingly thicker articles as I emptied the contents. Half way through, I found long sleeve shirts and light sweaters. And at the bottom I found wooly knee socks and a thick hoodie- clothes that were totally necessary 2-weeks ago, I can't imagine wearing now that the weather is so warm.
Today was pretty normal. I went to the gym, ordered some curtains from Urban Outfitters, watered my plants and my garden, did my laundry and made my way to work. I usually get off at the VA hospital so I can walk across the sky bridge and take in its amazing view of Portland and sometimes on a clear day, Mt. Hood before going to the windowless unit I work on for the next 8-12 hours. As I was walking across the bridge, I had a slight freak out; was I wearing pants? Yes, I looked down and indeed saw my brown linen pants shuffle along with my green converse. Ok, but maybe I forgot underwear? I brushed my hand against my lower back. No, the underwear is there. Check! Oh, I know… I forgot to put a bra on? Yes? I looked down at my breasts that seemed a little larger than usual, or was it the shirt I was wearing? I stuck my index finger under my shirt by my shoulder and gave my strap a quick snap. No, I have a bra on. I was so busy rushing around all morning that I felt like I was on autopilot. I was sure that something had been overlooked in the hullaballoo, something like putting on pants. I felt exposed in some way, but I'm not sure why. ....
Anyway, summer is going great! I'm happily following through with eating well, being a more envoi-friendly citizen and redecorating my apartment. ...
.
My apartment is looking awesome! I got curtains for my bedroom, a huge honkin' bookshelf and a new bedspread. I got a cute desk for my living room and café curtains for my dining room. I rearranged a lot of the wall art and framed some things that needed to be framed. I now have quite a nice collection of house plants, I have a second jade, a spider plant, ivy, a slew of starts from Sarah O. and I've been successfully nursing my indoor tree (not sure what it's called) back to health. It's nice to see him so happy after almost losing him (I don't know why I'm referring to a plant as a particular sex, but go with it, ok?).....
I landscaped the small dirt lot behind my apartment with daisies, bungle weed (so fun to say, I could say bungle weed all day!), blue star creepers, rosemary and a fern. I also started some basil from seed and it's doing so well! I forgot how great it feels to grow things and to watch nothing turn into something. My budding basil is the only plant I've nicknamed. I am affectionately calling it "Cousin Basil," a reference to one of my favorite 3 Stooges episodes. I also got a bird feeder, and when I admitted to my co-worker Jackson, how much time I spend watching the birds play on it and the endless internet searching I do to try to identify their species, he assured me that this new domesticity could be a large reason I'm not getting any dates (that and the fact that I like Rush, but he doesn't know what he's talking about because Rush is awesome!). ....
Composting is going well. It's the easiest thing in the universe. In fact, it quickly became second nature to separate all organic scraps for composting. One thing I'm still not totally comfortable with is composting newspaper and cardboard. I need to get over that. I'm also doing well in the slow evolution to de-toxify my home and my person. I'm diligently recycling and reusing. I realize that my small participation and effort to be more conscious isn't going to save the planet as a whole, but it's a step in the right direction. I can definitely tell that I'm making better habits for myself and my apartment just FEELS BETTER. I can't explain it, but it feels like I rediscovered a part of myself and an important aspect of my life I didn't even realize I had lost sight of. I have been hungry for information on living more eco-friendly and eating healthier. I recently saw King Corn about the corn industry and how corn makes its way into pretty much everything we eat… which lead me to become borderline dogmatic about cutting out high fructose corn syrup out of my diet. I recently picked up the Omnivore's Dilemma- a book that sort of takes the King Corn thing one step further. I'm only about 1/3 into it, but it's full of good information. I also found this website I can't get enough of, http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LndhbGxldG1vdXRoLmNvbS8=. If you have any suggestions on good books or websites, please pass them along. I'm definitely a beginner when it comes to an awareness of this stuff. ....
Despite how it looks, I haven't been spending my entire summer installing window fixings, looking out my window at birds and studying up on flaws in the American way of life. I've actually managed to spend a good amount of time outside. I've come upon a few good bbqs, met some new people, taken some long bike rides and have spent plenty of hours inebriated on bar patios.....
I feel really great. Physically, I'm in the best shape of my life. I've been going to the gym 3-5 times a week since November and I can definitely see and feel the difference. This has also manifested as a new confidence in my appearance. Although I am still chubby, I don't consider myself "fat"- not that there is anything wrong with being fat. But, for the first time in my life I don't associate myself with that label. I do consider myself fit and feel a sincere love for my body and a pride in how I present myself. My life seems to be really coming together in general (knock on wood)- working on my apartment, my diet and lifestyle makes me feel really balanced. I am the person I always wanted to be and that feels really great. Here's to hoping it doesn't all go to shit too soon!! ....
Other things worth mentioning: I'm enrolled in school full time this fall. I am definitely doing a video showing/discussion at Reflections Coffee Shop/ Talking Drum Bookstore (I will let you know when I have more details) sometime this summer, I've made more block prints (an inquisitive platypus and a freaked-out snail) and I've gotten into sewing reusable menstruation pads again. I might be willing to give some away or trade if anyone's interested. ....
....
I hope everyone's summer is going equally as awesome!
-H
Like Barry and Lavone, I COOK and then, I Chill.
Here are some recipes of things that I make and people seem to like and in the spirit of the 4th of July BBQ season, I will share them with you.
.. ..
.. ..
Heather's Famous Amazingly Awesome Vegan Ck'n Salad....
a.k.a How to make $3 worth of Tempeh worth $3-billion of yumminess!....
12 oz of Tempeh (personally, I like going to Proper Eats in St. John's and buying their homemade Tempeh, this recipe uses ¼ of a sheet. One package of store bought works just as well.)
1-3 stalks of celery chopped (I like a lot of celery, if you don't that's ok)
2-3 chopped scallions
½ red pepper chopped
1 table spoon of Lemon juice
½ cup Veganaise (or you can make your own)
1 table spoon of liquid aminos or soy sauce mixed with 1 table spoon water
2 tablespoons nutritional yeast (like a good friend, nutritional yeast is worthy of a nickname, let's call it "Nooch"- a dirthouse tradition I intend to keep alive)
A Shitload of Cilantro!! (yes, that's an exact measurement!)
½ tablespoon curry (or more, season to taste)
Salt n' Pepa to taste
Cut the tempeh into ½-inch cubes, marinate in liquid aminos and water and fry for 5 minutes or until browned, sprinkle with 1 tablespoon of Nooch while frying. Set aside to cool.
In a bowl mix all other ingredients. Add the tempeh and chill. Bring to a 4th of July BBQ and bask in the love you're sure to receive.
What I really dig about this recipe is that you can make sandwiches with it, or use it as a dip or spread for crackers or tortilla chips. It's pretty diverse and awesome.
.. ..
.. ..
Auntie Heather's "Eat Your Fucking Veggies" Pasta Salad....
12 oz of cooked whole wheat pasta (any works, I prefer rotini)
½ red bell pepper chopped
½ cup chopped red onion
1 stalk chopped celery
1 eggplant
1 cup Balsamic Vinaigrette (I like to use Annie's Naturals Shiitake & Sesame Vinaigrette)
A Shit-ton of Cilantro (not to be mistaken for a shit-load, these are 2 different measurements! Don't fuck this part up)
2 chopped scallions
1 cup broccoli florets
½- 1 cup Feta Cheese (I'm sure you could use some kind of vegan cheese for this, but it won't be as good. And let's face it, you weren't all that stoked about being vegan anyway, so just eat the feta.)
1 cup cauliflower florets
10 cherry tomatoes cut in half
Salt n' Pepa to taste and to listen to while you prepare this vegetable utopia of deliciousness
.. ..
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Cut eggplant into ½ inch triangles (they don't have to be triangles, but the triangle shape helps add an element of "zany-ness" to this otherwise unzany recipe). On greased cookie sheet arrange eggplant triangles, spray with light oil and bake for 15 minutes, until soft. Set aside until cool.
In bowl toss all this shit together.
Eat it outside, for some reason it tastes better that way.
summer.. so far...
Proof of how fast summer came to Portland was evident as emptied my laundry basket. I threw the dirty tank tops into the wash, and tank tops gave way to increasingly thicker articles as I emptied the contents. Half way through, I found long sleeve shirts and light sweaters. And at the bottom I found wooly knee socks and a thick hoodie- clothes that were totally necessary 2-weeks ago, I can't imagine wearing now that the weather is so warm.
Today was pretty normal. I went to the gym, ordered some curtains from Urban Outfitters, watered my plants and my garden, did my laundry and made my way to work. I usually get off at the VA hospital so I can walk across the sky bridge and take in its amazing view of Portland and sometimes on a clear day, Mt. Hood before going to the windowless unit I work on for the next 8-12 hours. As I was walking across the bridge, I had a slight freak out; was I wearing pants? Yes, I looked down and indeed saw my brown linen pants shuffle along with my green converse. Ok, but maybe I forgot underwear? I brushed my hand against my lower back. No, the underwear is there. Check! Oh, I know… I forgot to put a bra on? Yes? I looked down at my breasts that seemed a little larger than usual, or was it the shirt I was wearing? I stuck my index finger under my shirt by my shoulder and gave my strap a quick snap. No, I have a bra on. I was so busy rushing around all morning that I felt like I was on autopilot. I was sure that something had been overlooked in the hullaballoo, something like putting on pants. I felt exposed in some way, but I'm not sure why. ....
Anyway, summer is going great! I'm happily following through with eating well, being a more envoi-friendly citizen and redecorating my apartment. ...
.
My apartment is looking awesome! I got curtains for my bedroom, a huge honkin' bookshelf and a new bedspread. I got a cute desk for my living room and café curtains for my dining room. I rearranged a lot of the wall art and framed some things that needed to be framed. I now have quite a nice collection of house plants, I have a second jade, a spider plant, ivy, a slew of starts from Sarah O. and I've been successfully nursing my indoor tree (not sure what it's called) back to health. It's nice to see him so happy after almost losing him (I don't know why I'm referring to a plant as a particular sex, but go with it, ok?).....
I landscaped the small dirt lot behind my apartment with daisies, bungle weed (so fun to say, I could say bungle weed all day!), blue star creepers, rosemary and a fern. I also started some basil from seed and it's doing so well! I forgot how great it feels to grow things and to watch nothing turn into something. My budding basil is the only plant I've nicknamed. I am affectionately calling it "Cousin Basil," a reference to one of my favorite 3 Stooges episodes. I also got a bird feeder, and when I admitted to my co-worker Jackson, how much time I spend watching the birds play on it and the endless internet searching I do to try to identify their species, he assured me that this new domesticity could be a large reason I'm not getting any dates (that and the fact that I like Rush, but he doesn't know what he's talking about because Rush is awesome!). ....
Composting is going well. It's the easiest thing in the universe. In fact, it quickly became second nature to separate all organic scraps for composting. One thing I'm still not totally comfortable with is composting newspaper and cardboard. I need to get over that. I'm also doing well in the slow evolution to de-toxify my home and my person. I'm diligently recycling and reusing. I realize that my small participation and effort to be more conscious isn't going to save the planet as a whole, but it's a step in the right direction. I can definitely tell that I'm making better habits for myself and my apartment just FEELS BETTER. I can't explain it, but it feels like I rediscovered a part of myself and an important aspect of my life I didn't even realize I had lost sight of. I have been hungry for information on living more eco-friendly and eating healthier. I recently saw King Corn about the corn industry and how corn makes its way into pretty much everything we eat… which lead me to become borderline dogmatic about cutting out high fructose corn syrup out of my diet. I recently picked up the Omnivore's Dilemma- a book that sort of takes the King Corn thing one step further. I'm only about 1/3 into it, but it's full of good information. I also found this website I can't get enough of, http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LndhbGxldG1vdXRoLmNvbS8=. If you have any suggestions on good books or websites, please pass them along. I'm definitely a beginner when it comes to an awareness of this stuff. ....
Despite how it looks, I haven't been spending my entire summer installing window fixings, looking out my window at birds and studying up on flaws in the American way of life. I've actually managed to spend a good amount of time outside. I've come upon a few good bbqs, met some new people, taken some long bike rides and have spent plenty of hours inebriated on bar patios.....
I feel really great. Physically, I'm in the best shape of my life. I've been going to the gym 3-5 times a week since November and I can definitely see and feel the difference. This has also manifested as a new confidence in my appearance. Although I am still chubby, I don't consider myself "fat"- not that there is anything wrong with being fat. But, for the first time in my life I don't associate myself with that label. I do consider myself fit and feel a sincere love for my body and a pride in how I present myself. My life seems to be really coming together in general (knock on wood)- working on my apartment, my diet and lifestyle makes me feel really balanced. I am the person I always wanted to be and that feels really great. Here's to hoping it doesn't all go to shit too soon!! ....
Other things worth mentioning: I'm enrolled in school full time this fall. I am definitely doing a video showing/discussion at Reflections Coffee Shop/ Talking Drum Bookstore (I will let you know when I have more details) sometime this summer, I've made more block prints (an inquisitive platypus and a freaked-out snail) and I've gotten into sewing reusable menstruation pads again. I might be willing to give some away or trade if anyone's interested. ....
....
I hope everyone's summer is going equally as awesome!
-H
Like Barry and Lavone, I COOK and then, I Chill.
Here are some recipes of things that I make and people seem to like and in the spirit of the 4th of July BBQ season, I will share them with you.
.. ..
.. ..
Heather's Famous Amazingly Awesome Vegan Ck'n Salad....
a.k.a How to make $3 worth of Tempeh worth $3-billion of yumminess!....
12 oz of Tempeh (personally, I like going to Proper Eats in St. John's and buying their homemade Tempeh, this recipe uses ¼ of a sheet. One package of store bought works just as well.)
1-3 stalks of celery chopped (I like a lot of celery, if you don't that's ok)
2-3 chopped scallions
½ red pepper chopped
1 table spoon of Lemon juice
½ cup Veganaise (or you can make your own)
1 table spoon of liquid aminos or soy sauce mixed with 1 table spoon water
2 tablespoons nutritional yeast (like a good friend, nutritional yeast is worthy of a nickname, let's call it "Nooch"- a dirthouse tradition I intend to keep alive)
A Shitload of Cilantro!! (yes, that's an exact measurement!)
½ tablespoon curry (or more, season to taste)
Salt n' Pepa to taste
Cut the tempeh into ½-inch cubes, marinate in liquid aminos and water and fry for 5 minutes or until browned, sprinkle with 1 tablespoon of Nooch while frying. Set aside to cool.
In a bowl mix all other ingredients. Add the tempeh and chill. Bring to a 4th of July BBQ and bask in the love you're sure to receive.
What I really dig about this recipe is that you can make sandwiches with it, or use it as a dip or spread for crackers or tortilla chips. It's pretty diverse and awesome.
.. ..
.. ..
Auntie Heather's "Eat Your Fucking Veggies" Pasta Salad....
12 oz of cooked whole wheat pasta (any works, I prefer rotini)
½ red bell pepper chopped
½ cup chopped red onion
1 stalk chopped celery
1 eggplant
1 cup Balsamic Vinaigrette (I like to use Annie's Naturals Shiitake & Sesame Vinaigrette)
A Shit-ton of Cilantro (not to be mistaken for a shit-load, these are 2 different measurements! Don't fuck this part up)
2 chopped scallions
1 cup broccoli florets
½- 1 cup Feta Cheese (I'm sure you could use some kind of vegan cheese for this, but it won't be as good. And let's face it, you weren't all that stoked about being vegan anyway, so just eat the feta.)
1 cup cauliflower florets
10 cherry tomatoes cut in half
Salt n' Pepa to taste and to listen to while you prepare this vegetable utopia of deliciousness
.. ..
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Cut eggplant into ½ inch triangles (they don't have to be triangles, but the triangle shape helps add an element of "zany-ness" to this otherwise unzany recipe). On greased cookie sheet arrange eggplant triangles, spray with light oil and bake for 15 minutes, until soft. Set aside until cool.
In bowl toss all this shit together.
Eat it outside, for some reason it tastes better that way.
June 13, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Experience the Luxury
I realized the other day that I never wrote about the cruise I went on. A lot happened and there were many components to my trip last month. Truthfully, there is just too much to condense into a single blog. I spent 3 days before the cruise hanging out with family and friends in the Boston area. I took off on a boat and was at sea for 2 days and docked in Bermuda for 4 or 5 days. Then it was back out to sea for a few days and I spent 3 more days in the city, spending quality time with quality people. I was looking through my journal and found this entry I wrote May 16thand I think it summarizes the cruise experience (the boat part) pretty well. Unfortunately for you, this isn't my actual diary so you don't get the scribbly- pigtailed drawings of myself giving thumbs-up, the squiggles, pseudo-dramatic punk lyrics and various characters that grace the pages of my actual diary, but you can imagine how much better the original is.
May 16, 2008
Oh yeah! We're cruisin'! Cruisin' is the lamest thing you'll ever love. What starts as a boat full of strangers, turns into this sort-of mini society of people. For instance, you end up making small talk in the buffet line, sharing your beach experiences in the hot tub and talking about your family and hometown over a pint at the local pub when you run into one another. At least, this was my experience. It was kind of awesome, but I am a sucker for these situations- forcing strangers to feel a comradery with one another through a shared experience, even if it is one as lame as cruisin'.
There are all kinds of bizarre entertainment and forced consumerism integrated into the experience, like being offered $8 cocktails at every turn. Also, they have these little QVC-like presentations on jewelry and crappy knock-off art. The boat staff constantly takes your picture and then they try to sell them back to you for $40 each. It's crazy how much they push you to spend and ironically I haven't spent a penny since setting foot on the ship (my mom flipped for the pina coladas).
There is this main, cruise director guy named Fith. Yeah, like "filth" without the "l," pronounced like "fifth"- but no second "f" in the spelling. He's a total Guy Smiley character, trying to sell you raffle tickets ("Folks, this is an UNBEATABLE OFFER!!"), gets you riled for the bingo game ("Only $30 per Bingo card, Folks. What a DEAL!!") And tries to sell the dime-a-dozen imports you find on the island as some once in a lifetime purchasing opportunity. Dink. Yeah, he's a dink.
The seas have been stormy and the boat is rocking like crazy. Mom and I went up to the buffet to get some breakfast and you had to stand with your feet shoulder width apart or you would fall over. Everything was chaos, but I was somehow able to manage to make up a plate and grab an oj with minimal spillage. I ate with one hand constantly on the oj, so it wouldn't topple onto the floor and one hand trying to eat and simultaneously hold onto my plate. It was pretty hilarious! Some of the people around us lost their breakfast to the floor. Every so often we would hear silverware and plates crash onto the floor followed by a gruff, equally loud "God damn it!!" The croissant basket toppled off the buffet table. Elderly patrons walked arm in arm, clutching onto the tables when we would hit an exceptionally large wave. At the coffee bar, we overheard talks of significant others hauled up in their cabins with severe sea sickness and complaints of seasoned cruise-goers already crafting their letters of complaint. I thought it was sort of awesome. I mean, we're on a friggin boat. Sure, this is supposed to be luxury; we all paid thousands to be here, right? We should expect Mother Nature to realize this, bow to our will. Calm the sea while we pollute it, carry us gently on our way while we shove more quarters into the slot machine and let us eat in peace until we're busting at the seams. Come on, fucking ocean, this is our fucking vacation.
I was a little concerned for the older people, I hope no one was hurt and I am sure a lot of people worked very hard to afford to go on this trip, but I can't help but feel like a cruise ship is an exceptionally obnoxious, flashy way to travel and spend a vacation and I can't help but feel like it's a little naive of people to set out to sea and not consider the risk of running into violent waters.
Oh, and I've learned that I am not a gambler, not by any means. I sort of hate it. First off, the machines don't make sense to me. I sat down at one and my mom tried to explain it to me, but I wasn't catching on. Ok, I need to get 3 pigs in a row, extra points if I get a pile of mud and nothing if I get a wolf. However, if I get 3 wolves in a "V" shape and a pile of mud in the shape of a star I win triple whatever I bet. Yeah, fuck that. Plus, I am way too frugal for this. This is not how I want to spend my money. Video games, Ok. But, betting $1 or $5 that some computer will deal me a good hand, line up some pigs and mud just right, just doesn't seem worth it. My mom is super into the casino though, which is fine. I could be of use carrying around her token cup flirting with her blackjack dealer.
The nightlife on the ship isn't bad. There's a little bar with a dance floor. I got a middle aged woman up to dance to "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" with me and made friends with this cute couple my age by getting crazy to "Beat it." When I was sick of dancing I checked out the karaoke. Imagine a room able to seat about 2,000 people, with a stage- and you're on it… and singing "Jessie's Girl." Yeah, it was kind of an awesome karaoke experience. Now, I have a fan base on this ship. Sweet!
So, I guess despite the dinks, the consumerism and all the reasons to not like this cruising thing- it's actually pretty fun when you can make it bow to your will. I don't think I would ever shell out money to travel this way, but if someone wants to take me, I will certainly go- especially if they wanted to plan some kind of cruise ship mutiny.
Experience the Luxury
I realized the other day that I never wrote about the cruise I went on. A lot happened and there were many components to my trip last month. Truthfully, there is just too much to condense into a single blog. I spent 3 days before the cruise hanging out with family and friends in the Boston area. I took off on a boat and was at sea for 2 days and docked in Bermuda for 4 or 5 days. Then it was back out to sea for a few days and I spent 3 more days in the city, spending quality time with quality people. I was looking through my journal and found this entry I wrote May 16thand I think it summarizes the cruise experience (the boat part) pretty well. Unfortunately for you, this isn't my actual diary so you don't get the scribbly- pigtailed drawings of myself giving thumbs-up, the squiggles, pseudo-dramatic punk lyrics and various characters that grace the pages of my actual diary, but you can imagine how much better the original is.
May 16, 2008
Oh yeah! We're cruisin'! Cruisin' is the lamest thing you'll ever love. What starts as a boat full of strangers, turns into this sort-of mini society of people. For instance, you end up making small talk in the buffet line, sharing your beach experiences in the hot tub and talking about your family and hometown over a pint at the local pub when you run into one another. At least, this was my experience. It was kind of awesome, but I am a sucker for these situations- forcing strangers to feel a comradery with one another through a shared experience, even if it is one as lame as cruisin'.
There are all kinds of bizarre entertainment and forced consumerism integrated into the experience, like being offered $8 cocktails at every turn. Also, they have these little QVC-like presentations on jewelry and crappy knock-off art. The boat staff constantly takes your picture and then they try to sell them back to you for $40 each. It's crazy how much they push you to spend and ironically I haven't spent a penny since setting foot on the ship (my mom flipped for the pina coladas).
There is this main, cruise director guy named Fith. Yeah, like "filth" without the "l," pronounced like "fifth"- but no second "f" in the spelling. He's a total Guy Smiley character, trying to sell you raffle tickets ("Folks, this is an UNBEATABLE OFFER!!"), gets you riled for the bingo game ("Only $30 per Bingo card, Folks. What a DEAL!!") And tries to sell the dime-a-dozen imports you find on the island as some once in a lifetime purchasing opportunity. Dink. Yeah, he's a dink.
The seas have been stormy and the boat is rocking like crazy. Mom and I went up to the buffet to get some breakfast and you had to stand with your feet shoulder width apart or you would fall over. Everything was chaos, but I was somehow able to manage to make up a plate and grab an oj with minimal spillage. I ate with one hand constantly on the oj, so it wouldn't topple onto the floor and one hand trying to eat and simultaneously hold onto my plate. It was pretty hilarious! Some of the people around us lost their breakfast to the floor. Every so often we would hear silverware and plates crash onto the floor followed by a gruff, equally loud "God damn it!!" The croissant basket toppled off the buffet table. Elderly patrons walked arm in arm, clutching onto the tables when we would hit an exceptionally large wave. At the coffee bar, we overheard talks of significant others hauled up in their cabins with severe sea sickness and complaints of seasoned cruise-goers already crafting their letters of complaint. I thought it was sort of awesome. I mean, we're on a friggin boat. Sure, this is supposed to be luxury; we all paid thousands to be here, right? We should expect Mother Nature to realize this, bow to our will. Calm the sea while we pollute it, carry us gently on our way while we shove more quarters into the slot machine and let us eat in peace until we're busting at the seams. Come on, fucking ocean, this is our fucking vacation.
I was a little concerned for the older people, I hope no one was hurt and I am sure a lot of people worked very hard to afford to go on this trip, but I can't help but feel like a cruise ship is an exceptionally obnoxious, flashy way to travel and spend a vacation and I can't help but feel like it's a little naive of people to set out to sea and not consider the risk of running into violent waters.
Oh, and I've learned that I am not a gambler, not by any means. I sort of hate it. First off, the machines don't make sense to me. I sat down at one and my mom tried to explain it to me, but I wasn't catching on. Ok, I need to get 3 pigs in a row, extra points if I get a pile of mud and nothing if I get a wolf. However, if I get 3 wolves in a "V" shape and a pile of mud in the shape of a star I win triple whatever I bet. Yeah, fuck that. Plus, I am way too frugal for this. This is not how I want to spend my money. Video games, Ok. But, betting $1 or $5 that some computer will deal me a good hand, line up some pigs and mud just right, just doesn't seem worth it. My mom is super into the casino though, which is fine. I could be of use carrying around her token cup flirting with her blackjack dealer.
The nightlife on the ship isn't bad. There's a little bar with a dance floor. I got a middle aged woman up to dance to "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" with me and made friends with this cute couple my age by getting crazy to "Beat it." When I was sick of dancing I checked out the karaoke. Imagine a room able to seat about 2,000 people, with a stage- and you're on it… and singing "Jessie's Girl." Yeah, it was kind of an awesome karaoke experience. Now, I have a fan base on this ship. Sweet!
So, I guess despite the dinks, the consumerism and all the reasons to not like this cruising thing- it's actually pretty fun when you can make it bow to your will. I don't think I would ever shell out money to travel this way, but if someone wants to take me, I will certainly go- especially if they wanted to plan some kind of cruise ship mutiny.
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