A Saturday Oven-side

As a post script to the tofu scrambles - I baked up an acorn squash and put the tofu scramble in the hollow along with some balsamic vinegar, olive oil, pinenuts and rosemary. Rosemary did indeed prove herself to be quite welcome to the party. In fact, I suspect that Rosemary, pine nuts and olive oil would have done just fine even without the scramble. Although the stuffing of food into food is always cool.

I daydream about baking another acorn squash with a cornbread stuffing and perhaps with a tiny bit of chicken sausage crumbled in. This would be an experiment for post-POLAOWN. But I suppose the cornbread part could happen now.

I also tried to bake some potatoes with the thought of topping them with some veggie chili and going all mad with the dairy: sour cream, cheese, and butter. Clearly I have given up on giving up dairy. That being said, I have been eating much less cheese than usual. Baking a potato sounds simple. Prick the skin, wrap in foil, baked until cooked. Unless you are hungry and antsy and insist on opening the open every 5 minutes to check the progress of your potatoes. In that case, it is very hard. The Fella preached patience. I only half listened.

Acorn squash does not mind if you open the oven to take a look. It will proceed calmly and steadily on its baking way. The potato, on the other hand, takes this as an affront to its ability to handle heat and will stubbornly hang on it's raw crunch in protest.

The Fella warned me that semi-baked potatoes smothered in dairy and chili would be plenty of food and that the acorn squash would be too much. He was right. Having that much bulky and filling baked vegetation at one meal induced extreme drowsiness.

After spending the better part of the day in a woozy cotton-y haze, I decided to tackle the bread baking yet again. This time with the guidance of the Fresh Loaf. I ran out of flour two cups into measuring out for the dough. So with my yeast bubbling in water that was 103 degrees (according to the thermometer), I threw on boots and a coat and ran to the grocery. I got bread flour this time to see if it would make a difference.

I had 2 cups of all-purpose and one cup of bread flour. And while kneading, I added bread flour where more flour was needed. Let me tell you, bread flour is a different animal. It's grittier than all-purpose. And for the first time, I had a ball of dough that put up a fight while kneading. People warn you that kneading dough is hard work. In my previous two attempts at bread making, I never understood this. The dough was never that tough to work with and was usually pretty pliable. But with the addition of even just one cup of bread flour I was working up a sweat.

I kneaded the crap out of the dough. Well over the recommended 10 minutes. The Fella witnessed my hysterical (as in not funny) predictions of doom with regard to the bread. When I opened the oven to look at it, things did not look good. It looked like a big pale rock with a thick incredibly hard crust. I do not know what professional bakers do to get that gorgeous browned crust. It will probably take some research to find out. So with much cursing and whingeing, I decided to try a cheat - melted a few pats of butter on the top and threw it back in the oven for a spell. Which probably did nothing but let me feel as if I had at least tried to do something about the situation.

The results were not up to my bread baking fantasies but definitely not as bad as I had feared.



It weighs a ton. It's a fairly flat loaf. The crust is impossibly hard. And on the inside, the crumb is dense but at least has more of a bread consistency and is less biscuit-like. Progress!!! Next time I will try using all bread flour and trying to be more patient with the rises. And I will start the process before 5pm so that the bread is ready before 11pm.

(Jargon for the day: BE told me that the outside of the bread is the crust and the inside is the crumb.)

Besides the uncertain and hysterical cooking, it was an evening warmed by the oven, frantic kneading, hugs of anticipation, and spontaneous dance to songs sprung from the radio in my subconscious. I've done a lot worse on a Saturday night.

Tofu Scramble

It sounds like a dance move. Or a vegetarian themed video game. But it's tofu broken into bits and fried up with stuff. A veg alternative to scrambled eggs, although now having made it for the first time it occurs to me that a lot can be done with a tofu scramble beyond breakfast food.

FS and SM both make really delicious tofu scrambles. I have not watched them make it and cannot replicate it. To try making my own I decided to go to the Post Punk Kitchen for their take on it. I have made a few of the recipes from the old version of the site and been pretty happy with them. To the point where I firmly believe that every bean chili recipe needs to include a sweet potato or two. Cause beans and sweet potatoes are a beautiful match.

The recipe calls for Nutritional Yeast. I have heard a bit about Nutritional Yeast from BE when he was a vegan but have never tried using it myself. It's apparently used for nutrition and for flavor - to impart umami to a dish. They don't carry Nutritional Yeast at the local CVS nor at the regular grocery store near me. I went to the local health food grocer and got a very large tin of it for use in the tofu scramble. If you'd like to try some, give me a call, I've got plenty.

Sometimes I read the recipes that I am following wrong or neglect to copy all necessary information from the recipe to the back of the envelope that I will use in at the counter top. I cooked the minced garlic on low heat in a ton of olive oil for 10 mins. Much longer than recommended. Then added the tofu crumbled up. I cooked on a medium low heat so I did not get anything browned or any crispiness. I will try much higher heat next time. I think it would add to a nice variation of texture and the flavor of browning.

The water and spice combo is a good idea as it helps incorporate the spices better into the tofu. It's possible that you can stop at this point without the nutritional yeast. Maybe explore adding more vegetables with or before the tofu, altering the spice blend.

It might be good to add a bit more water at the point where you are adding the spices and the yeast, 1/4 cup of nutritional yeast flakes is a lot of dry to be adding to a skillet of tofu. It got a good yellow color and sort of a substantial and less watery flavor. I added more salt, of course, but felt that there was still something missing.

So I added a healthy pour balsamic vinegar to my serving of the scramble. Which ended up being what my palate was seeking. It made the scrambles taste brighter and cleaned up the finish on what was a slightly funky aftertaste. However, at that point it ceased to be scrambled egg like.

And now I have leftovers for sandwiches! Or perhaps stuffing for baked acorn squash halves (with extra balsamic vinegar).

I think next time I will add some celery or other vegetables to the endeavor. Mushrooms and what not to add some variety to the texture. I think that my new friend Rosemary could add something very pleasant and fragrant to the party.

Introductions and adjustments

I was introduced to a place called Eataly today. LV put together a farewell outing there. Sadly, folks just convened to have some beer. There was not eating at Eataly today. I am definitely going back. But it looks to be the Disney World of Italian food. I am not sure if it will live up to its looks but I am certainly headed there in February to find out.

LV calls me her Foodie friend. I am not comfortable with this tag. Because I am not much of a cook and I am not a gourmand with a scintillating palate. The preferences of my palate are pretty crude. I think that almost everything needs salt, garlic salt, oyster sauce or Tony Chachere's Creole Seasoning.

But I do love to eat and I have lots of opinions about things that I don't know much about. Does that count for anything?

Last week I formed an opinion about curry powder. The opinion that the generic grocery story brand of curry powder that I have smells and looks like curry but is missing a note that I associate with curry. What I wanted with my curry was fennel. A slightly sweet, licorice-y hint and aroma. That is what I expected from my Potato and Cauliflower curry that was lacking. So I have been taking the leftovers and adding, fennel, fenugreek, ground ginger, cinnamon and cayenne pepper. I haven't gotten the ratios right. Of course, I could also just toss the bargain curry powder and get a new one. But where is the fun in that.

On the internet they exclaim that the way to do it is to grind your own spices for a curry. This seems like an advanced thing to me. I'd need to get a grinder or at least a mortar and pestle. I like the idea of a mortar and pestle it sounds mystical like Merlin grinding herbs and extracts for potions. This is a subject for future meditation.

This week I have been eating Marcona almonds seasoned with olive oil, sea salt and rosemary. Rosemary has now achieved favored herb status and now I need to seek any and every food context that invites Rosemary to the party.

I am still resistant to Marjoram, though. She and I will meet in the school yard in another song.

Long-Ass POLAOWN update

Booze - To date the sum of the alcohol that I have consumed is a sip of MLQ's cocktail at Sacred Chow. It was a delicious and unexpected combination of flavors that made me sad to not be drinking this month.

Bars - Twice I have been to a bar. I did not drink in either case. I did, however, leave early in both cases. I got sleepy.

Hiding things - I had to put the Hoppin' John, the Collards, and the Casserole in the freezer to keep myself from eating them. I also hid the potato chips, the Bugles, and other fatty and sugary snacks in a metal tin. I might have to throw that tin into the freezer. I might have to buy a larger freezer.

Meat - I have had one bite of Salmon. Besides this, no meat has been consumed yet. I think about chicken, grilled, fried, in salad, in sandwiches, baked. And tuna. I think about tuna sandwiches with lots of mayo. I miss the texture. The chewy denseness of eating something that has been eating all that plant matter, converting and accumulating it on your behalf.

Bahn Mi - I had a vegetarian Bahn Mi. It was on white bread. What can you do. The first half of it startled me by tasting like pork. It had that chewy, dense texture. The second half of it, eaten much later, tasted like Seitan. I wonder if this means that in a short span of time I will be insisting that a bagel with scallion tofu spread tastes just like a Big Mac. I might try the bagel thing tomorrow just to see what happens.

White bread - White bread was supposed to be on my do not eat list. But I am revisiting this because white bread is amazing. AMAZING. Like a food miracle.

Pasta - I had squash ravioli because the Fella offered to cook for me and it was a choice between that and mac and cheese. It tasted strange, like candy pasta with herbs and olive oil. The squash filling was super sweet.

Sugar - Sugar is ubiquitous. I had some ginger ale. I put sugar in things that I was cooking. It's probably in the yogurt, the jam, the sauces, the dressings, the juices, the bread, and everything industrially processed that I have eaten this month. I think about cookies a lot. I walked by a place that smelled like cake. Heavenly. I stood on the sidewalk out front just steeping in cake smells.

Carbs in General - I remembered that eating carbs is delicious and filling. And so I have embraced whole wheat bread, Wasa Wheat Crisps and potatoes. The potatoes in particular have balanced out with the other stuff to make me feel less bloaty and squishy. More substantial.

I took a second try at baking bread. In honor of POLAOWN, I tried to bake a whole wheat loaf. It ended up being this enormous yeasty biscuit. It tastes terrible but I keep eating it. The Fella had a slice and said that it reminded him of the bread that they put MRE's from his days in the Marine Corp. I have had this. It like eating a pop-tart, without the frosting, the sweet filling that is soft, bland, and less crumbly. I think he was trying to be supportive. I am going to try to bake more bread this weekend.

Juices - on the recommendation of my cube-mate, I have had a few juice bar drinks. Juice bar juices are not like Naked Juice. Nor are they like the bottled offerings of Welch's or Tropicana. They can be pretty bland. Which puts the whole concept of concentrated juice in an entirely different light. For years, I have regarded juice concentrate as inferior and adulterated. Now I realize that it takes a lot of apples, concentrated into a small volume, to capture the vivid apple flavor in bottled apple juice. It probably helps to know the full range of your options, perhaps pick something from the juice menu. A random fruits and vegetables tossed into a juicer will not guarantee deliciousness. My first juice was had berries and nice things but was ruined by the addition of carrots and watermelon. Despite being watery, watermelon ends up having a very strong taste that will assert itself in a not enjoyable way. The second one was beets, carrots, lemon, celery, orange, ginger and kale - not much better. The third time, I got a smoothie. It had banana, strawberries, and pineapple, crushed ice, and Tropicana orange juice. That one was delicious. I attribute this to the industrial OJ. The Cube-mate has since offered to send me juice and smoothie recipes.

Healthnut restaurants - The Fella and I went to this macrobiotic place and had the blandest food ever. His was actually kinda nice but mine was exceptionally bland. And this was not the sort of place to have a salt shaker at the table. During the course of the meal I started hallucinate that the carrots and onions were actually delicious and everything else was bland "It's a shame about the rest of this meal, the onions and carrots are so flavorful flavor, and suggest potential." The Fella had wisely pre-gamed by snacking on fried chicken at Popeye's. While I was not bowled over by the food, it did seem to put me in a slightly euphoric and goofy mood. It might have been my relief at not having to eat my own cooking.

In my second adventure I went to Sacred Chow with MLQ. And the food was pretty good. I had half a Tempeh Reuben and a bowl of New England Cauliflower Chowder. Both pretty good. Although it wreaked havoc on my system. The waiter told us a little bit about the dangers of gluten for those who are sensitive. I wonder if I am one of them. That or it might have been the cauliflower.

Brown Rice - Brown rice was supposed to be my carb for the month. But I am not having much luck with making it. The recent batch came out like a big pot of paste. It was like oatmeal! At the macrobiotic place the brown rice was very enjoyable and I think short grain. I might try the short grain stuff to see if I like the texture a little better.

I am trying to sprout brown rice. I have had this long-grain brown rice for several years and am amazed that it would sprout at all. Seeds are a wonder. It's sitting in the fridge waiting for me to cook it. Back to my brown rice mental block. Perhaps by the end of the month, I will get the knack of this brown rice thing.

Had I embarked on a set diet or eating strategy, instead of this aimless parade of ad hoc moderation/deprivation I would be putting less mental energy into it.

Mental space that could be devoted to reading, writing, a job search, music, yoga, cleaning, exercise, organizing, improving my sleep habits, well the list goes on and on. I like that the list goes on from things that I actually would do all the way to things that I will probably never do, despite my best intentions.

But no, all I think about is food. With any edible thing that I see, I ask myself, "Do I want to eat this? Should I eat it?"

I am not sure what I am getting out of this besides a thing to focus on besides the quiet desperation of living. I suppose it is also a month-long exercise in mental recasting. Food has been my happiness, my solace, my comfort, my entertainment, my stress reliever. And now food is a question for constant meditation. To eat or not. And to eat what?

For now, I consider that to be plenty.

RSVP to Public TV

I have just watched the first season of Downton Abbey, my what a cliffhanger. With so many of these British costume dramas about the country estates, one would think that there was a limit to my capacity for watching them. But there is not.

While a young woman, I would have been watching the show in pins and needles over Lady Mary. The show would have been all about her quest for happiness or at least satisfaction. But I find that I turn my attention to other amusements.

Dame Maggie Smith is hilarious as Violet.


Mr. Bates is ever so grand.


And Lord Grantham is dreamy.

Isn't he?

PBS is showing Season Two this month and next. Ladies and Gents, it is with much regret that I must decline your Sunday evening invitations for a prior engagement.

Dreaming of Fish

People are rarely interested in each other's dreams. Probably because dreams generally lack the context for the listener that makes them so compelling to the dreamer. They don't make sense. And for the listener the emotion that was experienced by the dreamer is almost impossible to convey. At yet we all want to share the dream that we had last night. We are amazed by the strangeness of our own dreams and unwilling to admit that they hold a fascination only to us. We want to make sense of them and hope that discussion will shed light on what they mean or where they came from. And telling someone about our dream helps reinforce the memory of them and allows us to relive them.

I rarely remember my dreams anymore. When I did it was usually due to an epic struggle between the snooze bar and my desire to lay in bed with my eyes closed for five more minutes. I remember them but not vividly or for very long. They tend to all mush together. There are imaginary places that represent real places where many of my dreams used to take place. As I try to remember one dream, I find that I am remembering a bunch of dreams as happening at the same time or remember them as having happened in the same places concurrently.

Two nights ago, I dreamed about fish. I dreamed that I was in my house and there was a fish bowl and then a fish tank, and then two fish tanks, and then more and more fish tanks, stacked on racks like they are at the pet store. And then there was a fish pond and then another fish pond and then a tub with fish in it. And I was showing all the fish to some people. One of whom, was an elderly gentleman who was my father-in-law. I was trying to persuade him to take some of my fish, to build his own fish pond for them.

"Carp are so pretty and they can grow to such impressive sizes," I said, pointing to the orange and yellow carp now crowded and churning in one of the ponds. I saw goldfish and a tiny tetra who when grabbing onto a gum ball would expand to 20 times his original size. I had fish leaping up out of the water. A few lept onto my leg and were flopping their way up my body, I had to pick them off and put them back in the water. I had so many fish. I needed to give them away. I did not want to kill them, they all deserved to flourish. They needed new homes, room to expand. But people were not taking my fish, they were leaving more fish for me to collect. Fish in tanks and ponds all over my house. I considered scooping up the fish eggs from the tanks so that they would not be eaten.

So what does it mean? No idea.

The Fella suggested that it might mean that there are creative inspirations in my life that have been dammed up and are about to burst forward.

CK has suggested that I am subconsciously feeling really ovewhelmed.

According to dreamforth.com:

To see an aquarium in your dream indicates that you are aware of certain feelings that you possess but haven't been able to deal with. This may include needs, wants, and fantasies related to sex. Alternately, it may imply that you are at a stagnant point in your life and are confused as to which path to follow. It may also suggest that you are overly stressed and need to slow down, take a deep breath, and try to focus.

To dream of a carp suggests that you should be more humble and respectful of others. If you are too selfish and conceited, this can affect your personal relationships.

To dream about goldfish predicts that you will come into prosperity and many wonderful and thrilling escapades.

To dream that you see fish in clear water streams indicates that you will find approval from the wealthy and the distinguished.

For young women to dream of fish suggests that she will find a charming, good-looking mate. If the fish is swimming, then this could indicate conception. Some women will dream of fish swimming when they become pregnant.

To dream about a flying fish suggests that you feel unencumbered by your emotions and that you are unrestrained.

To dream about fish eggs suggests that there is some notion that has risen up from your subconscious.

So perhaps, I am repressing something, perhaps a desire to have children and I feel that my life is stagnant place. I have been too selfish and conceited but I am going to have wealth and adventure and things are rising up from my subconscious despite my efforts to repress them.

According to dreammoods.com

If you are watching the fish in the fish tank, then you may feel that your life is going nowhere or that you are going in circles with your life.

To see fish swimming in your dream signifies insights from your unconscious mind. Thus to catch a fish represents insights which have been brought to the surface. Alternatively, a fish swimming in your dream may symbolize conception. Some women dream of swimming fish when they get pregnant. "

To see a clear, well-stocked fishpond foretells of profitable enterprises and great pleasures.

To see a goldfish in your dream signifies, wealth, success, and pleasant adventures. Alternatively, goldfish represents some important emotional matter or valuable insight.

To see a carp in your dream indicates that you need to put aside your pride and ego and not let it get in the way of friendships and relationships. Alternatively, the carp is symbolic of patience, perseverance, determination, tenacity, courage and success.

To see a betta fish in your dream indicates that thoughts from your unconscious is close to emerging to the surface. You are ready to confront your repressed thoughts. If there are two betta fish in your dream, then it signifies conflicting issues that you are dealing with.

To see a flying fish in your dream indicates that you are feeling emotionally free and uninhibited.

To see fish eggs in your dream represent an idea that has emerged from your unconscious.

Consider the common phrases "like a cold fish", "fish out of water" or something that is "fishy" about a situation. It may also imply a slippery or elusive situation.

This site has almost identical interpretations to the other one. Again with the stagnation in my life. I have suppressed insights from my subconscious mind. They are leaping out of the tanks onto me, trying to get my attention and I am throwing them back in the tanks in denial. It's possible that prosperity and adventure are in my future or a significant emotional matter or insight. And I either need to put my ego in check or have patience, perseverance, determination, tenacity and courage.

According to dreamdoctor.com

Fish in dreams are fertility symbols, because they are small, primitive creatures that live in water, not unlike an embryo in the womb. Dreams of fish are not precognitive. It doesn't mean that you or someone you know is going to have a baby... only that babies are on your mind.

Dreams of fish in aquariums that are low or running out of water symbolize fears that time may be running out to conceive. Dreams of jellyfish and stingrays reflect concerns of getting “stung” emotionally in waking life. Dreams of fish attacking may symbolize concerns about reproductive health.

An aquarium or fish tank in a dream is a fertility symbol, made evident by the fact that pregnant women carry around an internal “tank” of embryonic fluid to sustain their little “fish.”

This one is all about the babies and my biological clock.

Ok, so at the end of this dream based tarot card reading session, all of this is plausible and probably all true. All pretty typical of the conscious and subconscious thoughts of a single, childless woman in her 40's. And I certainly have felt stuck for several years. I disagree with the pride and ego part of it all but who knows. Perhaps that is an issue that I have been unwilling to face about myself as well.

But the dream was more fun as a comical scene where I contended with lots and lots of fishes. In my dream it was a bit like the fish tank version of this:

My subway fear realized

In my rush to get up the steps I tripped on the top one and fell. Yes, I smacked right on my hands right onto the subway floor. Fortunately, I suffered no injuries and did not land in a spot that was wet, muddy, sticky or gummy.

Hurray!

Hari Kondabolu on Ethnicity

A translation of the where are you from question.

Comedy Central Stand-Up
Get More: Jokes,Joke of the Day,Funny Jokes

Day Two

Eating lots of fruits and vegetables makes me feel squishy. In time, I imagine that this will pass or it will also make me feel smug. Smug and squishy. Pleased to meet me

The Quotable Aldous Huxley

I was trying to remember a line from "A Brave New World" yesterday and was scrolling through Aldous Huxley quotes. The dude is pretty quotable. He is now on my list of authors to read. What else in his body of work I should pick up?

The quote I was looking for was:

“I ate civilization. It poisoned me; I was defiled. And then," he added in a lower tone, "I ate my own wickedness.”

― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

It took some doing to find it. There were many other quotes of note to peruse in the first two pages. There were seven pages of quotes. I will have to stay up too late another night to read them all.

A few that struck me:

“Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.”

― Aldous Huxley, Complete Essays 2, 1926-29

“Happiness is not achieved by the conscious pursuit of happiness; it is generally the by-product of other activities.”

― Aldous Huxley

“It is a bit embarrassing to have been concerned with the human problem all one's life and find at the end that one has no more to offer by way of advice than 'Try to be a little kinder.”

― Aldous Huxley, Moksha: Writings on Psychedelics & the Visionary Experience

My Excuses

My excuses for falling off the POLAOWN wagon almost as quickly as I hopped on go something like this:

Firstly, there are leftovers. JK and I went to the Meatball Shop for a farewell to bad foods. I ordered everything. A meatball hero with beef meatballs, spicy meat sauce and provelone cheese. I also had the Kale (which was AMAZING) and the mashed potatoes (also very good). And as a starter while I waited - a rootbeer float.

Their polenta is fabulous, creamy and smooth with just enough corn meal texture. If ever I go back there I will definitely get it.

I came home with half a meatball sandwich and some mashed potatoes. I also had a container of disappointing leftover mac and cheese. I had hoped that the restaurant in question would have good mac and cheese but instead, they served Stouffer's mac and cheese with the mushy fat noodles and the processed orangey cheese. But there was so much of it that there was plenty to take home.  Note to self - do not order mac and cheese at a place known for their wings.

Secondly, I kept reading the Beans book. By NYE I was up to the chapter on Black Eyed Peas. Despite the fact that I am not from the South and I do not know a thing about soul food. I got it in my head that what I needed to do was make Hoppin' John and Collard Greens to usher in the New Year.

I bought smoked ham hocks because I liked the romance of getting them. I bought a bundle of collard greens and several cans of black eye peas. I still don't know a thing about soul food but near as I can tell, the ham hock will take an hour to give up it's smokey, salty, porky goodness.  That is an hour of quality time with the hock before anything else gets cooked.

So I chopped up two onions, minced several cloves of garlic, tossed them in a pot of water with two ham hocks and some thyme, brought that to a boil, then a simmer for an hour.

Then split the water between two pots: a pot for collards and a ham hock and a pot beans and a ham hock.

I covered and cooked the heck out of the collards, pulled out the ham hock, added back the tablespoon worth of meat that was on it and added some sliced turnips and cooked the heck out of that. Added tons of salt, pepper and garlic powder. Next time I would probably go with cubed turnip pieces, lots more collards and maybe a ham broth alternative.

After it seemed like the beans were starting to warm up and maybe pick up a little smokiness, I pulled out the ham hock, added back the slivers of meat and threw in two cups of rice. Too much rice!!! It ended up making more of hammy rice porridge with beans.

So I have a fridge full of greens, beans and rice steeped in smoky fatty ham broth. the second excuse could be lumped with the first.  Except that for the superstitious hopes that the meal offers towards a prosperous New Year.

After work today, I headed to Trader Joe's.  The Trader Joe's in Chelsea was a mob scene. They were totally out of onions and almost out of bread. The line for check out snaked back and forth through the store. They stopped letting people in the store. At which point, a line of grocery shoppers started to form on the sidewalk. People all bundled up and shivering in the cold. You would have thought that Louboutin was having the mother of all sample sales. Surely these people were not waiting in line for Joe's O's.

When I finally got to check out, I felt foolish watching the cashier scan my tofu and fruits and vegetables. What if I was deluding myself and all of this food was destined to end up in the trash uneaten, not even composting. What if I am. How sad that would be.

I got home had three pieces of fruit and could not resist the lure of my leftovers. But rather than just reheat and eat them, I got the notion to make a casserole because I am foolish.  Some part of me was convinced that making it a more labor intensive activity would make it okay to eat this junk.  Whilst I am from the Midwest, I did not grow up in the hotdish part of the region. And I certainly do not come from a casserole family. I could not shake the notion that cauliflower and mac and cheese are a good match. Probably because of a similarity in coloring.

Steamed up half a head of cauliflower florets, tossed them with butter, garlic salt and black pepper. Chopped up the Meatball and mixed it with the soft part of the whole grain bread. Threw the whole grain crust into the oven the crisp up. Mixed the mashed potatoes with a good helping of collard green juice, some milk and the stouffer's mac and cheese and heated that on the stove. Mixed it with the cauliflower and the bread meatball mix and some grated cheese. Topped it with more grated cheese, the crumbled whole grain crust and some breadcrumbs. And baked it until smells started coming from the oven.

The results were not pretty. And let's put it this way, you have to be careful how many different styles of food that you mix together in a baking dish. If you are not careful it will start smelling like what comes back up after a long night of drinking.  I blame the tomato sauce blended with ham broth.  I am grateful that botulism has not killed me. Knock on wood.  Perhaps in February I will properly explore the mysteries of hot dish.  In particular, I have always wondered about the recipes that call for tater tots or cornflakes as the topping.

But in a day or two that unpretty casserole will be gone and the grand POLAOWN will begin.

Day One

Happy New Year!

Yes, I know that it is the third day of the New Year. But it is the first day of my month long attempt at detox.

I am sorry to report that I have already failed. It's possible that Day Two will be my actual Day One.

Of what? I am not sure what to call it. I am alternately calling it a Detox and fake Lent. I hesitate to call it anything like Lent. The observance of Lent is a serious part of the religious practice of Christian people. Perhaps in my case it is more correctly referred to as a period of Lifestyle Austerity or Winter Nesting (POLAOWN).

It started with a book. "Beans: A History" by Ken Albala. I keep grumbling as I read it that beans are not all that exciting. Yet somehow they are just compelling enough that I keep reading.

In the section on Fava Beans, Ken Albala writes:

"...by the time of the Council of Nicea in 325, a period of forty days or Quadragesima, preceding Easter, was set aside for prayer and self-denial."

This idea resonated with me as something that I needed. Not being a religious woman, what am I looking for? What is this need that some buffet style secular version of Quaragesima (POLAOWN) would satisfy?

I am in a phase of my life where I feel like there has just been too much of everything. Which for Mae West was wonderful. But for me has just been too much. Too much booze, too much food, too much work, too much stress, too much running about, not enough sleep, not enough downtime, not enough understanding.  There has been a definite diminishing return on the too much side and and the sense that the too much end is not compensating for the deficiencies.  It is possible that a POLAOWN is not the answer.  The answer could be meditation or going to more ska shows or giving and receiving more hugs or burning incense and ringing bells while chanting.  Those may be challenges for upcoming months.

Added to this is the inspiration of JK's resolution to give up white foods and alcohol. By white foods she means give up refined sugar, white rice, white flour, perhaps dairy for a month.

So I have been formulating this plan in my head to:

1. Give up alcohol
2. Give up meat (if I can't take it, red meat)
3. Eat whole grain products
4. Eat more fruits and veggies
5. Eat brown rice
6. Give up fried foods

I get hungry just thinking about this. I had pondered giving up dairy and eggs and trying to go vegan. But it's hard to imagine life without cheese and all the glorious things that the marvelous egg can offer.

I worry that this pledge will mean that I will have no social life at all. Or at least, even less of one than I currently have. I worry that this pledge will lead to misery as I have gotten to the point where I associate happiness with unhealthy eating. JK and I have based our relationship on a shared passion for eating deep fried things. But I feel that it is not sustainable. I cannot fit into a substantial part of my wardrobe and I am experiencing food related bodily discomforts.

As for the prayer - well I'll have to work that out during the course of this.

My arbitrarily selected dates are January 3rd through February 8th.

There will be an exception for CK's birthday and then it's back on the wagon until February 9th.  From there, I don't know.  This is all I can see.

My parents upon hearing of this plan applauded it, asked why I was not doing it for an entire year, and then felt entirely justified in overfeeding me during my entire visit home. It would be fine because when I got back to Brooklyn, I would be eating right.

This is the plan. How have I already derailed myself? I have my excuses.  My excuses have that "For want of a nail ..." feel to them. Essentially, I stand in my own way.  I should have donated or tossed out all offending foods from my fridge. Or put them all in the Freezer to be opened in February.

How you play the game

"Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will. Find out just what any people will quietly submit to and you have found out the exact measure of injustice and wrong which will be imposed upon them, and these will continue till they are resisted with either words or blows, or both. The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress."
- Fredrick Douglass

I did not Occupy Wall Street. But I am grateful that the movement exists. People complain about their methods. They do not like their style. They need to shower. They need more focus. They need to be reasonable or more goal oriented. They need to articulate one realistic and achievable demand and then go home.

Frankly things are so f'ed up that coming together to make only one simple demand seems irresponsible.

In these polarized times, being reasonable or rational does not appear to be very effective. Perhaps a compromise dressed in the rhetoric of reasonableness is a place where you end up with all of the icky horsetrading that probably goes along with it. But in the opening moves of your negotiation, it is a terrible place to start.

Especially when a Republican Senator will publicly say inflammatory things that are "not intended to be a factual statement."

In these polarized times, perhaps a page is best taken from the political playbook of Hari Kondabolu.

"In this country, when you start out with a reasonable proposal it gets - it gets watered down."



It makes rescinding the Bush tax cuts look extremely reasonable and rational in comparison.

The Kerning Game

I'm obsessed with this game:

http://type.method.ac/

"Someday I'll be living in a big old city"

At long last I have heard the songs of Taylor Swift.

PJS told me that I really needed to listen to Mean. Turns out she was right. Not only did I need to listen to the song, I found that I needed to listen to this song almost continuously for a couple of weeks. It's been a while since that happened. I am with her until the part where she calls the mean girl "a liar and pathetic." For some reason that bugs me each and every time I hear it.

But I find that I cannot listen to her other songs. They make me too sad. They make me realize how jaded I have become. Not so jaded that I can dismiss the point of view and sentiments of these songs. But enough to recognize the distance between where I am and what I had imagined as a young girl.

Mini Mid-life Crisis

Press play here: Miniskirt by Esquivel

I am 41. I spent my 20's and my 30's acting like I was in my 20's and I have crashed right into my 40's. I am not sure what I was supposed to go through in my 30's. I hope that I do not find myself at a disadvantage later in life for having skipped the life lessons of that decade as the years roll on.

I have started facing down the many boxes of things that I abandoned to the basement of the house of my parents. A lot of dreams delayed and a lot of relics of the life and person that I once was. Among these items, I found four miniskirts. I do not remember wearing them as a youth and I should get rid of them.

Hello Kitty t-shirts, short shorts, halter tops, tube tops, mini-skirts, velvet dresses with big bows - these are the trappings of youth. On a woman of a certain age, they look weird. They look wrong.

But my subconscious cannot quite accept this yet. I have been wearing them, the skirts, that is. Wearing them to lunch, wearing them to brunch, wearing them to work. Granted, I am short, so the skirts are not as short as they ought to be, more like an inch above the knee. But still, I imagine myself to be very close to getting some sort of reprimand from HR. BE has advised me to at least throw some thick tights on with them.

I am "The delusional woman who is still trying to pull it off." I am trying to prevent myself from buying any new miniskirts and have told myself that I must donate the skirts in question to Goodwill on my 45th birthday. Check in with me on that one.

It might have been Gwyneth Paltrow's appearance on Glee that first sparked this crime against fashion. With the difference in our ages, height and figures, the effect is not the same. But heck, I figure it's now or never. Perhaps next year I will start wearing bikinis to lunch, brunch and the office. I am, after all, 30 years from wearing Christmas tree sweaters with Santa Claus pins.

It possible that I would be better off buying a red convertible sports car.

Food, glorious food

On my flight to SF on Virgin Atlantic I watched a video segment created by Chefs Feed. The program is based on an iphone app which gets the recommendations of the best chefs in a given city on where and what they eat when they are not working.

Curious, I took notes on the places recommended, got off the plane, dropped off my bag and went to Lung Shan Restaurant, also known as Mission Chinese Food. It's a short walk from the 16th St. and Mission stop of the BART.

It's crowded and dark and has a faded chinese restaurant decor. I was the only table of one during their lunch rush and they were extremely unhappy about this.

The waitstaff seemed to be a mix of Asian American dudes and tiny older Asian women who don't speak much English. They smiled and chatted with everyone else in the place except me at my four top solo. It was extremely not subtle.

I ordered the Tea-Smoked Eel and the Salted Cod Fried Rice. The Fried Rice was the Chefs Feed chef's recommendation.

The Tea-Smoked Eel arrived and went and then they tried to give me the check and shoo me from the place. I am glad that I insisted on staying for the other course.

The Tea-Smoked Eel sounded like it would be heavenly. I love Eel. I love noodles. A noodle wrapped mess of tea-smoked eel with chinese celery, sounded like it would be a great balance between smokey soy eel, with the crisp celery blanketed in lovely noodle. There was also some kind of crunchy thing, like corn flakes but not. Eel can be a bit boney, scratching your throat with the swallow, the crunchies did not help. I could see adding it to balance the texture of the big floppy noodle.

But.

They also included pulled ham hock in the noodle wrap. The ham hock of itself was delicious. It was also excellently paired with a lovely noodle and chinese celery. And totally went with the crispy thing. But it masked any evidence that there's eel in there.

I was disappointed.

But then there was Salted Cod Fried Rice. It looks like a big heap of fried rice with egg, scallions, chinese sausage and tons of cilantro. And then. Ginger. They also put in thinly sliced slivers of ginger.

Amazing. It was salty and not too oily, very light, and ginger scallion-y. The egg was perfect. The sausage. I thought I was full when the rice arrived. And I promptly scarfed half the plate down. It was love. It was 10 years of hugs. I didn't care how much the staff scowled at me or the about the anxious hungry waiting customers. I was communing with something sublime. And by God, it was going to be a part of me. Such satisfaction. Perfect on a grey drizzly day.

I wished that I had come with a group of people so that I could taste and then gobble up the rest of the menu - the broccoli beef cheek or the sizzling cumin lamb, at least.

So, go with friends. If you don't have friends get take out or make friends for this purpose.

Have the Salted Cod Fried Rice, order everything except the Tea-Smoked Eel and tell me how it is.

They serve booze. They take credit cards.

That fried rice is so good that they don't have to be nice, they just have to bring the plate.

GO!

what I am really thinking

The other day I thought to myself:

I want to be adored. I should get a dog.

Six of One

1. Continental Airlines busted my new piece of wheeled luggage. It was one of those things with the four independently spinning wheels. Strangely, the way the weight was distributed it was easier to push on all four wheels than pull on two. And those things really need a different sort of push handle from the pull type. Despite this, it's a marvelous innovation. Sometimes innovation is not the introduction of new technology but the application of an existing technology to a new use or context. In this case, the independently spinning wheel has been at the front of your shopping cart with either the front left or the front right one getting stuck and causing you much grief for quite a while now.

But back to the luggage, I got to use mine for four trips before one of the front wheels got busted off. A bag with three wheels is not as good as two and certainly not as good as four. However they were sufficient to get me home in one piece and the gorilla at the Munich airport can celebrate a job well done with a banana split.

Improving the robustness of the front spinning wheel would put a company at the head of the class in luggage or grocery shopping carts. It would also make me their loyal customer.

2. I have not slept for weeks and suspect that an emotional cog has gotten loose as a result. I have been crying during the in-flight movies. I am not sure whether this is because they are really moving or because I am so tired. I am pleased to report that I did not cry during "The Zookeeper" but I did cry during "Mr Popper's Penguins" and during "Monte Carlo." I even cried during a scene or two of "The Green Lantern" and not because I find it so bizarre to see Ryan Reynolds cast as a leading man (even more bizarre to see Ryan Reynolds cast as a superhero). If time had permitted me to watch the Dragonball Z live action movie, I have no doubt that it would have made me cry too.

3. Yesterday an airport security dog ( a spaniel or a beagle) was trotting around the baggage claim area sniffing things and people. I assumed sniffing for bombs. At one point I saw the officer with the dog walk up to a man and a woman wearing backpacks and start talking with them. She (the officer) asked to search the backpack of the man. In the backpack was an orange. The dog had sniffed out an orange from foreign lands deep in the backpack of a very tall German dude. It was my real time Animal Planet moment. I was waiting for the narration to kick in. And now I wonder what this dog's job is. Does it sniff for hazardous things or contraband? All of the above? If you placed that orange in a metal container full of coffee grounds, would the dog still detect it? And after an 8-10 hour flight packed in coffee grounds, would you still want to eat it?

A foreign orange is verboten. Invasive microbial species are no joke, Kids. An invasive fungus or plant virus could do a hell of a lot of damage. It would come in invisible, undetected. But if it spread to Florida or California from one European orange and if our local oranges had no natural protective strategy and if they were not being treated with chemicals that would protect them, well, it could be a very big deal. Dutch Elm disease. There, I said it.

Although I wonder if you could quarantine and decontaminate it. Maybe stick it under a UV light for several minutes. After all, we bring in agricultural imports all the time. What is the procedure in that case?

4. Waiting in line for the bathroom in the aisle of the plane, I thought about how I was standing in a big metal tube barreling through the air at speeds and distances that I can not match on foot, what a miracle modern flight technologies is. This rarely occurs to me. I mostly complain about the food and the seats and the people around me (especially the ones that hog all the carry-on luggage space and lower their seat backs all the way into my lap), the bathrooms and gas cramps. Oh, the gas cramps. But really, it's an amazing thing that I am taking for granted. Truly remarkable. A miracle of our modern times. And the fact that one such as I would have access to it, is doubly remarkable.

5. My smartphone does not have data connectivity when I am in Europe. It becomes a big heavy cell phone with very expensive service. It's mostly a big pocket watch. When the plane touches down and I can see the 3G logo in the upper right hand corner and it flashes orange and green, I get a little happy.

6. There is a grocery chain in Germany called Edeka. They have two locations at the Munich airport. I am very fond of the one in Terminal 1. I have a thing for grocery stores.

They have a contraption that will give you fresh squeezed orange juice. You put a bottle on a platform, push a button and orange juice gets freshly squeezed right into the bottle. The housing of the machinery is clear so you can watch the oranges roll up to the juicer and get squeezed. It's pretty cool.

They also have a bottle recycling deposit machine. The plastic bottles all have an added deposit cost associated with them, as is the case in some states in the US. Anywhere from 0.15 to 0.35 Euro. It's a big machine with a hole in the middle. You stick the bottles in an opening and the machine uses some kind of laser or sensor to scan the bottle and make sure that it is recyclable. Maybe scan the label? I don't know. It beeps red if it's going to reject the bottle and green if it's acceptable. Very SciFi. After you have put in all of your bottles, you push a button and it spits out a voucher for your money which you can use at the grocery store checkout. Motivation to recycle and then spend that money right there.

6. I told someone that I currently have a job but no career. I have had this job for 5 years and am growing old while doing it. He asked what my career plans were. No idea. Goddamn Steve Jobs for dying. I had seen this commencement speech before. And when he died, I remembered watching it and have watched it again a few times. What a character. What conviction. What an interesting life.

7. My plans to sleep late and spend the day puttering at home are basically destroyed. There are workmen banging on the walls outside replacing the siding. So much for unpacking and organizing. I moved about a month ago and have been so on the move that I have not had a chance to unpack yet. The sound of banging, power tools, hollering and singing makes it hard to focus. Plus walking by a window and seeing workmen standing on a scaffolding right there, is a bit disconcerting. The sleeping late did not happen. I am trying to putter through the din. They took a lunch break but I hear them walking back upstairs to resume their work. So I'm going to go out into the world.

Five Years, here

1. This week marks my five year anniversary. Five years in New York and five years at the place where I work. Five years of floatery. And in honor of this I intend to throw a shindig, at some point. But for now, I called my folks to announce the news and then took myself out on a date.

2. I have great dates with myself. It's easy to do in NYC. There are places that you can go and just linger - have some quality time with yourself. I went to a place called the Risotteria. I love risotto especially when it is made by others. What I did not realize was that I was walking into a Gluten-free haven. It was narrow, crowded and warm. Too warm for summer but at other times of the year, I'm sure very cozy.

This did not change the fact that the risotto with fontina, zucchini and oven baked tomatoes was delicious.

3. I kept myself company with a book. I have been reading a book called "How to Be Idle" by Tom Hodgkinson which is just lovely. Idleness is what I miss most in this stage of my life. Those endless stretches of time in which to ponder and reflect, in which to dream and nap.

I am not a go-getter. But there has been a lot of busy-ness and busy work to take up large swathes of my time of late. Many distractions. Distractions and entertainment are pleasures as well, but the languid passage of time, delicious.

Pure idling makes me antsy these days. It takes time for me to ease myself into it sometimes there is not enough time for me reach that state. I do try to do nothing on occassion. My preferred method is that of the flâneur or in my case, la flâneuse. I want to buy 10 copies of it and send them to friends and loved ones. Because of this I thought that I had missed Manhattanhenge.

4. Two days of the year, the sun sets at an angle such when you look down a city street from east to west, the sun sets right down the middle of the street, framed by buildings on both sides. Were it not for Twitter and MomVee, I would not have ever know about this. Manhattanhenge.

The day after, I dragged the Fella out to the Crocodile Lounge for beers and free pizza and to ensure that we were on 14th street to see the sunset. To see whether some remnant of the Manhattanhenge effect could be seen.

5. Let me begin by saying that the pizza at the Crocodile Lounge is best eaten hot. You need to let it cool enough to eat. But do not let it cool so much that the cheese gets cold and congealed. The pizza has a very narrow window for enjoyable eating if you have not yet had enough to drink.

6. As for watching the sunset on 14th street - 14th street actually has trees. So if you are too far east, the trees obscure your view of the west side of the island and the sun itself.

The Fella and I got around this by crossing back and forth across 14th street as slowly as we could while staring Westward. And behold, the sun was setting in frame although a bit to the north of the middle of the street. As we walked westward down the street, at one point, we joined a group of other people who wanted to witness this phenomena and many of the bushy-est trees were behind us. We all stood in the middle of the street whenever the traffic lights permitted and gawked and took pictures and oooh'd and aaawww'd. There were probably about 20 of us.

The second recommendation I would have is to wear sunglasses. The sun is not as strong but it is still bright.

The third recommendation I would have is be present for the experience. I was trying to adjust the camera settings on my phone and heard everyone else say, "It's over. Let's go." I missed the actual moment when the Sun crept below the horizon. Or you could adjust the settings on your camera before the festivities get underway.

Lastly, you might want to try a street that is not 14th. Although that being said, 14th was kinda cool. After this the Fella and I continued wandering the city, a favorite pasttime of mine, until late.

7. Which meant that I got a late start on the next day and in a fit of deranged, cranky, ravenous hunger dragged BE out with me to get a sandwich. He had discovered that a nearby place on Varick Street called the Little Italy Pizzeria has a corned beef sandwich that cannot be beat. If ever there was a sandwich that could soothe the raging beast to the point of pure food inspired happiness, it would be corned beef on a roll with mustard and mayo from this place. BE got the brisket sandwich with gravy, which I am sure is also good.

8. It was so filling that after eating 3/4 of it, I was good for the rest of the day until later when I went to Pier 54 for a River Rocks show. The tUnEyArDs played a show. (a band that BE introduced me to) Waited in a not horrible line. Couldn't see a thing and was surrounded by tall people. So I have to watch some youtube vidoes to see how she does what she do. It was, near as I can tell, a bass player, two saxophones and Merrill Garbus, drumming, singing, harmonizing, playing the ukelele and god knows what else. It was incredible. Just incredible. I was blown away. And then. and then, as the tUnEyArDs finished playing the encore, there were fireworks.

9. I got very sick on the 4th of July weekend and missed the fireworks. Only to get to enjoy a fireworks display from the pier. I do not believe people who say that they are unimpressed by fireworks and don't enjoy zoos. I say, no matter how jaded you become. A fireworks display is a winner. I don't care how many you have seen. Pretty, colored explosions in the sky - bad ass.

So far, it's been a good week, the week of my 5th anniversary.

The Problem with Problems

I was crankypants yesterday. And still am a bit today. I have a litany of disappointments and irritations. They are minor and trifling but utterly engrossing me right now.

UPS, my neighbors, the Brooklyn Public Library, the limited utility of a repeater, my inability to make a decision based on incomplete information, how quickly the time passes, how difficult it is to get things done, how expensive travel can be, the dollar/euro exchange rate, and on and on and on.

I think it mostly comes down to having difficulty accepting the imperfection of the world, myself and other people.

The funny thing is, even when things are resolved, I cannot let myself be happy about the resolution and the fact that a problem is solved. I continue to upset myself over the fact that the problem occurred at all. Or I realize that the identified and solved problem is not the only one that needs addressing. Or I discover another problem almost immediately. Or then encounter the same problem again in a slightly different context. Or decide that the problem is indicative of a much larger issue, one that is intrinsic and perhaps impossible to deal with. And then I feel a kind of futility.

When, really, that is a part of what life is. An endless series of problems to be solved, avoided or accepted.

The phrase, "Our problems are over!" is a fantasy. You can say, "This problem is solved." But you have to understand that that is not the end of it. That solution is not going to make all of your problems go away forever.

Fairy Tales end with happily ever after. And movies can too. Perhaps in some cases novels as well. But life, we overcome, we carry on and encounter new obstacles. It's more like a TV series. Every episode has it's own situation, it's own conflict to tackle.

And that is a silly thing to be crankypants about because I am not the only one and this is just the nature of things.

A demonstration:

You: "Why are you unhappy?"

Me: "Because my life is not a fairy tale."

Ridiculous.

And really, how boring would life be without a focus, a goal, a conflict or problem to address. Maybe the challenge is to find what is interesting in the obstacles encountered while seeking out other obstacles associated with goals that are more engaging and / or rewarding.

Which only makes me feel slightly better.

Foreshadowing?

I unpacked my bags today, only to discover that I packed two bottles of Advil.

Hmmmmmm......

Rediscoveries and Second Lives

I can pick a single from an album. Back when they used to make albums, I could listen to one and pick out the singles before turning on the radio.

But with TV, I do not have this ability. If I love a show it is very likely to be canceled. My So-Called Life, Felicity, Dawson's Creek, Firefly, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Studio 60.

CBS had this great sitcom, "The Class." Crazy, right? a great sitcom on CBS.

It came out at the same time as "How I Met Your Mother". They were scheduled back to back. CBS canceled it after one season.

The head of this Class was Jesse Tyler Ferguson as Richie Velch. He has amazing physical comedy skills. Amazing.

The rest of the cast was also excellent including: Heather Goldenhersh as Lina Warbler and John Ritter's son Jason Ritter as Ethan Haas, the man who brings them all together in the pilot.

To my utter delight the episodes of "The Class" can be found on youtube.

Dear CBS, you were the shortsighted corporate dumbasses who canceled this amazing show. You did not know what you had. And considering that you never released the complete season on DVD, you don't know what to do with it now. So steer clear. Allow it to have a continued life online for all of us to enjoy.

shouting at paper to get the shouting right on paper

Someday, I will do a staged reading of emails where the text in all caps will be read as screaming. I am curious to see whether they have the emphasis placed on the right words and phrases. It would suggest to me that they speak aloud while they are composing these messages to make sure that the phrasing is correct.

Among causes for violence

I have only encountered one situation in which near violent behavior towards an inanimate object made me the recipient of great sympathy.

When the tampon machine in the ladies' room ate my quarter.

Even better

Better than really tall women are really tall women wearing very tall shoes.

difficult people

Difficult people often have this curious attitude in which they are difficult and make your life difficult and yet they so clearly very much want you to sympathize with them and care about their feelings either because or despite what a pain in the ass they are.

They don't seem to realize that you have your own point of view that is strongly influenced by what a colossal pain in your ass they are.

Coming back to earth

Sometimes the distance between what the world is and what you wish it to be is very vast. One would think that with age, the shock of this would dull.

And perhaps it does.

futility of trust

I want to trust in the fact that other people are doing their jobs and doing them well.

But so far, this desire has only bitten me in the ass. Repeatedly.

Gloomy thought

I had this depressing thought. The very rich don't have to worry about the environment. They will find a way to get theirs and make money off of everyone else whether things are good or bad.

And not only do the rest of us need to do something about it, we have to find a way to fight and ignore the propaganda, marketing and misinformation that they spread that encourage us to support and aid in the destruction of said environment.

This one only goes to Seven

1. The sidewalks are impossibly icy. I wish I owned cleats.

I walked home in mincing fragile little steps. And cursed and shrieked every time I slipped.

2. Of the five windows I spent weeks weatherproofing, only two are intact. The landlady has seen fit to open the windows to go out and deal with ice problems. They, of course, opened the draftiest ones. Hello, Cold, come right in, make yourself at home. Sometimes I wonder why I even try

3. We have mice again. I have not seen them myself but apparently they are here.

4. It feels like whatever I do is undone by those around me. Or someone has decided that it is their job to have me do and redo the damn thing.

5. I tried to go to Drink and Draw. But it was canceled. I considered going to a different figure drawing event but then work swallowed me whole and did not spit me out until it was too late.

6. CK asked me if I was depressed. I think it's the giant invisible bird that's mistaken my skull for an egg and will not get up from it's nested position on my noggin. (shakes fist and invisible giant bird.)

7. I revamped my online dating profile and now I have a fan. Someone who likes my profile so much that he is bound to be disappointed in me. I cannot decide if this means that I should be more specific or more vague in the future.

So nice hearing from you

Astrology.com sent me two horoscopes for the day.

And I got emails from three yoga studios.

The mystical must miss me. That, or the mystical must think that I miss it. Equally plausible.

The A is silent

I have been setting up and testing automated "email a friend" functions today.

Because they are tests that I am sending to myself, in the main body I have been typing "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"
I find it strangely cleansing, as if I were actually screaming at the top of my lungs.

My Thursday Companion

The Shins, oh how I love you.

Truly and Purely.

Continuing education

The Brooklyn Kitchen, perhaps known to some of you as The Meat Hook, in Williamsburg offers cooking classes.

LV pointed this out to me and we signed up for the pizza making class.

The guys teaching (from Roberta's) were really great - funny, knowledgeable, friendly. As might be expected, they were passionate about pizza. It was a hands on class. We each had our own station and ingredients. Everyone had an apron. They served beer. You can't really ask for more.

We spent the first part of the class making dough and the second part taking dough that had been proofed and making pizza.

The pizzas were delicious.

Everyone took their dough home to make pizzas with.

Mine did not turn out nearly as well as the ones in class:





To begin, I think I should have divided the dough last night. Maybe coat it with a little olive oil to keep from drying out. And let it warm up to room temp before even trying to handle it. Tip of the iceberg.

Clearly I need LOTS more practice. My track record with bread type things is not so hot. Lots more practice. LOTS!!!!

Still, it was a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon. I'm definitely interested in taking another class there.

Easy things that are not

Warning, this post is very long and boring. We file it under, how I spent a lot of my weekend.

A while back I bought some recording software from Guitar Center.
The guys behind the counter advised me to buy the software on CD rather than download it online. So I did.

To borrow a phrase from Lyle Lovett, that is when I should have known that I had made my first mistake.

I took the box home and placed it in my living room with the intention of getting around to it. I respond to the things that I buy in one of two ways. I either tear the box open and muck about or I set the box to the side and get accustomed to its smell and presence before doing a thing with it.

With the second response, there is danger that I will set it aside forever, either because I get distracted by other things or because I never get over the newness and strangeness.

I waited my way into the new year and this long weekend, I decided that it was time to install the program. I could play with it and hole up for the rest of the winter.

I generally anticipate that a thing will either be impossibly hard, too difficult to even try, or easy peasy - a quicky jiffy,

When it comes to technology I always and incorrectly assume that it will be the latter.

First there was the long overdue maintenance that was needed for the laptop, the upgrades and scans and shuffling about of things.

After getting all of that out of the way, I got to the part where I put in the disk. The drive whirled and the start up menu displayed. All good signs.

Except that I had misplaced the piece of plastic on which they had printed my registration serial number. Which they would need to confirm that I had a legitimate copy of the program. I didn't put it in the box where I had found it. I had put it somewhere else. Somewhere visible to remind me that this installation was one of the things that I wanted to do. Only, it was no longer visible.

I turned the house upside down looking for it. For many months it lived on the coffee table, amidst a mass of papers and folders and books sometimes under, sometimes on top of or beside. But then my desire to see a clear surface in the house overwhelmed my desire for a visual reminder and prompted me to put it somewhere very safe. So safe that it took me three hours to relocate the card with the registration number.

Note to Self, cleaning, clearing and organizing are three different but related processes. None of which I am apparently that skilled at.

Now I was set. Except that the disk wouldn't install the program. I kept getting an error message. First I thought that this was because I was trying to install without having an active internet connection.

I couldn't get on the internet to save my life for a day and a half from the laptop that I wanted to use for this purpose. And then somehow while clicking around, messing with this or that utility flipping settings on and off, I found a wireless connection. YAY!

But it still didn't work. With a bit of Googling, I found a forum at the company website with a thread directly dealing with this problem. But could not read it without becoming a forum user. I registered and found out that there was an error in the box installer. I was going to have to download the demo and upgrade it.

Now, I don't know about you but if I were this company, Image Line, I would have put in a recall on those CD's. If I were Guitar Center, I would have pulled them from my shelves. MINUS POINTS. So after all that talk about getting the thing in the box, I had to download it online.

And then I lost internet access so I couldn't do a thing.

Now on the last day of my long weekend, I am sitting at the foot of the stairs in my building where I appear to have some internet signal, trying to download and install the program. I saw a note in one of the forums that of the four mirror sites where I can download the demo, two or three of them don't work. I tried to download from one of them to no avail. The second mirror site seems to be working. At least the download has worked. Now the demo is installed. I am trying to figure out how to use the registration key to convince the demo that I should be allowed to use the full version. I am downloading the files that should come up automatically in the hopes that if I install them individually they will figure out how to shake hands with each other. Having never used this software before, I can only hope that I will be able to figure out at what point I have downloaded and installed the product that I paid for.

And then I maybe I will get to play around with it for the remaining part of winter, that is, if I don't get distracted again.

Perhaps I should have gotten an analog 4 track with knobs and sliders.

:\

What I should be tweeting right now

I am wearing too much eyeliner today.

And I am still trapped at my desk at work.

These two facts are not related. Merely concurrently true.

Sigh

Leaving denial is much trickier than one might think. It is so comfortable with all those fluffy pillows, all that cotton candy, and the wonderful way it takes the edge off of reality.

A last good bye to 2010

I've been trying to recall what happened in 2010. It's all so fuzzy. It was fuzzy as it was happening and now, even more so. But for some reason I am compelled to recap. I'm going to blame the Christmas letters that I received. (Let me insert here that they are delightful.) I am not so organized as to be able to do one, but if I were, what would be on it?

In 2010

1. I saw the Canstruction competition
2. I watched someone make stone tools at a wine and cheese reception at the NYAS
3. I saw a few really stellar science talks at the Secret Science Club, one in particular: Iain Couzin
4. I turned 40
5. I threw a Cougar Cotillion
6. I had jury duty, was selected and served, they settled out of court.
7. I accosted Malcolm Gladwell. He was so kind about it.
8. I was a mermaid in the Mermaid Parade
9. I went to a roller derby bout
10. I helped one friend move three times
11. I played a cafe show at the 92nd Street Y
12. I bought a bike
13. I played D&D for the first time ever
14. I met someone I like. He wasn't into it. Hey, them's the breaks.
15. I went to NEXT HOPE 2010
16. I went to the Open Video Conference
17. I worked for a week in the UK
18. I got to experience the Momofuku Bo Saam Pork Butt meal (amazing)
19. I caulked, weatherstripped and weatherized all the winders in my apartment and spackled a giant gape in the bedroom wall
20. I rode the 35 mile version of the New York Century ride
21. I went to a Moth Story Slam
22. I played Tranny Bingo
23. I took a pole dancing class
24. I saw the Magna Carta and a Guttenberg bible
25. I walked in the Greenwich Village Halloween parade
26. I worked in Germany for a week
27. I went to the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear
28. I reconnected with some very dear old friends
29. I went to Niagara Falls, Ontario
30. I saw BBFK get married (YAY!)
31. I crashed and burned in Nanowrimo Only got to 15,000 words.
32. Tried laser hair removal (hated it)
33. Prepped and printed 1500 name badges for one event
34. I got a smartphone
35. I attended SantaCon, as a Santa
36. I witnessed Santa-on-Santa violence
37. I won money in the office raffle and promptly spent it all on booze and nonsense
38. I baked an apple pie from scratch
39. I have come to terms with the fact that I am a hoarder and must monitor this tendency vigilantly
40. I attended the Hackers 15th anniversary party
41. I found an alternate way to get into a headstand in yoga. Now I can do a headstand!

It would probably look better if I used full sentences, threw in some pictures, and cut this list down to 10 items or less.

Mostly, Life led me around by the nose and to nowhere in particular. Perhaps I spent too much of it tortured and longing for love.

It happens. I've had worse things happen in a year.

And now on to 2011.

Wishing you all a Wonderous 2011. Let's kick some ass.

Blizzard Gifts from the Sunset Strip

Thanks to the blizzard in the Northeast, my flight back to New York was canceled. My visit with the folksters was extended by four days.

Thanks to the many bugs flying around and the chill of the season, I got sick. The kind of sick where your teeth hurt and all of you aches and the GD pills aren't ever going to kick in.

My mother teased me as I lay in bed encouraging me to call my friends and complain about being sick and stuck at home.

I couldn't even do that.

What I was able to do was watch TV on the internet. Sometimes the same episode over and over again. I would drop off the sleep, wake up having lost my place, unable to remember the ending and try again.

Thanks to Netflix for enabling this.

Thanks to KL, who told me that she has been watching, I watched the whole season of "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip."

I watched the show when it came out. I remember being totally entranced and heartbroken when it was canceled.

On viewing, years later, it's breath-taking.

The first time around I was struck by Amanda Peet's turn as Jordan McDeere. She's smart, brave, impossible and so so winning.

This time around, I am besotted with Matt Albie. It's love. Matthew Perry was so good. Wow. So So Good. How could I possibly have not noticed just how dreamy he was?

I might buy the DVD boxed set and keep my TV on the Studio 60 channel for a while.

Kinda rhymes with the word oven

Rhyming is like matching your clothes.

It creates order, structure and cohesion. Kinda brings everything together.

One must take care when rhyming to show restraint. An inflexible insistence on rhyming everything will turn something charming into something stilted or ridiculous.

I am not a big fan of matching but I am a sucker for rhyme in lyrics, even (and sometimes especially) when excessive or ridiculous. I am not a stickler for a formal and proper rhyme, a near rhyme will suit. Assonance may be "getting the rhyme wrong" but I like it all the same.

While not a matter of life and death, sometimes finding the right one can cause a headache of Guy Music proportions.

When you are ready to bang your head against a piano, spare your cranium and get thee to a rhyming dictionary. A simple Google search will no doubt lead you to one or many very nice ones.

The rhyming site that I was first introduced to by DF is RhymeZone.

There is also rhymer.com

The following kinda rhymes are brought to you by RhymeZone, Rhymer, and the filter of my brain.

Oven kinda rhymes with: lovin', coven, shovin', shruggin', huggin', tuggin', muggin', wom-un, pluggin', sullen, sudden, sloven, roughen, dudgeon, clubbin', runnin', stunnin', run in.

I am trying to convince myself that apron, arson, tungsten, and blowgun are also kinda rhymes for oven. There is such potential in each of these words. Alas, wanting a thing to be true, does not automatically make it so.

He toils before the oven
and polishes his blowgun
feeling sad and sullen
contemplating arson

?
Hmmmm. It doesn't quite gel.

Excuse me, while I find a piano to bang my head on.

Links for funny

I understand that posting these links is a waste of time when you are spending entire work days at the office on CollegeHumor.com and Hyperbole and a Half.

But it's Christmas Eve. My family and I have just had snack time which means that we don't have to interact again for a few hours until dinnertime.

So I will share with you:

If Old People Ran the Internet

And two from Hyperbole and a Half

The one about Kenny Loggins and Xmas.

And the one about Moving with Dogs.

Via someecards.com: this bit on santa which is probably only funny to mean people like me.

And this one from Savage Chickens for the New Year.

Be Who You Are

Tonight's drinks will be had in the honor of Republican Senators: Scott Brown [MA], Richard Burr [NC], Susan Collins [ME], John Ensign [NV], Mark Kirk [IL], Lisa Murkowski [AK], Olympia Snowe [ME] and George Voinovich [OH] for voting to repeal Don't Ask Don't Tell.

One Fish, Two Fish, Eat Fish, Go Fish

I have been reading Paul Greenberg's book "Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food."

It's an easy and interesting read even if you have read Mark Kurlansky's very excellent book "Cod," which is also an easy and interesting read.

Mark Kurlansky focuses on the impact of one fish, the Cod, on human history and then on our impact on its viability as a species. The publishing industry apparently refers to this kind of book as a microhistory.

"Four Fish" takes a look at Salmon, Sea Bass, Cod, and Tuna. These fish that we know and love are presented as case studies to suggest that there is something wrong with the health of our oceans, something wrong with how we relate to the ocean.

These fish that we love to eat are not doing so well. The news is not good for delicious fish.

I fear that we as a species do not scale well. The more of us there are - doing the things that we humans like to do - the tougher it gets for everything else that lives to do the things that they like to do. It's hard to say whether any species actually scales well. In any given situation perhaps a living thing takes advantage of its opportunities up to the point where there is push back to keep it in check. And for now, fish are not pushing back, they are disappearing. We are eating them out of the ocean.

How do we know that we are the cause? Because when we stop catching and eating them for long periods of time, at least some types of fish increase their numbers again.

What can we do. We are hungry. Even when we are stomachs are full and we are not physically hungry, our appetites are insatiable. We crave in our heads, our hearts, our souls. We not only demonstrate this in our personal actions and decisions but also collectively in our social groups, social structures, jobs, markets, companies, kingdoms, social, political and legal entities, the technologies that we invent to help us feed that appetite faster and more efficiently for more of us.

We are so hungry.

When I finished reading "Cod," I wanted nothing so desperately as a Filet 'o Fish sandwich from McDonalds. I waited two whole week after finishing the book before I broke down and got one. I am craving one now as I type this.

Reading "Four Fish" I want nothing more than to try bluefin tuna carapaccio. Maybe get sushi.

Just this once. I am one person. How bad could it be? Just this once.

I went to dinner with AM and some friends to this delightful sushi place, one of whom was a gorgeous, tall, very dour girl who asked the waitress if they served sustainable fish. The waitress was doubtful. GTVD Girl had a card with her that she handed to the waitress listing endangered fish. Unsure of the eco-quotient of the fish at the establishment, she ordered a piece of land animal while the rest of us heartily tucked into platters of sushi delights.

I mock her but I also admire her fortitude.

We were just three people, that one time. How bad could it be? Just this once.

And I love a fish taco. I had a delicious one today at Cabrito. Amazing.

Dan Barber (who is amazing) has given this questions some thought as well. His conclusion has been that is it bad, that the answer is to accept no less than sustainable sources for fish as food. Unlike the GTVD girl, he does so with passion and love for flavor and food and joy. He is the Epicurean to her Puritan but the end point is shared.

I wish he had named the fish he fell in love with.

Near as I can tell, Paul Greenberg seems to think that Tilapia, Barramundi, and the Pangasius fishes are the way to go - from a farmed fish point of view.

I suspect that Dan Barber is talking about another fish altogether. Perhaps I will have to save my pennies and visit his restaurant and find out for myself.

In the meantime, back to the book about four fish.

Perhaps I will get lessons on being very dour about the fate of our oceans. Practice my culinary Puritanism. Or find a sustainable fish and fall in love.

Sound off, one, two

I was discussing the question of gays in the military with my father. I thought that it was odd that there were people who had been discharged from the military who would re-enlist if they eliminated the Don't Ask Don't Tell policy. The whole, how could you forgive a club that wouldn't have you as a member.

My father didn't think it was so strange.

As the discussion went on, my father said, "Well, the most famous gay in the military was Julius Caesar."

!!!


I do not know if this is true but if it is certainly worthy of a t-shirt:



Can I be sued by someone who died in 44 BC?

Complaints

I meet so many people in New York who are passionately pursuing their dreams and love what they do. They kind of have to. They are here living with five roommates in the outskirts of the boroughs and making peanuts or working for free while holding down crazy odd jobs or painful day jobs.

I always feel strange in comparison. Because I am here but I am merely making a living. It is a gaping chasm between these people and me. We are different species.

There is nothing wrong with making a living. Pretty much everything that is alive is in the business of making a living. When you talk to microbiologists that takes up and lot of their attention, how these tiny critters are making a living. Ecologically, metabolically, microenvironmentally, in combination with a host.

That being said, when you spend enough time doing what you do not like and do not want, it can loom very large in your field of vision and make it difficult to remember what it is that you do like and want. If you have a very short term memory, as I do.

Which is merely to say that the first day back at the office after a week off is unfun.

But sometimes someone will provide you with a nice distraction and introduce you to a new song or two.

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/s/New+In+Town/2rKNBN

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/s/Logos/1IYQ0F

notes from home

1.
After a visit to the Mall it would appear that sequins and animal print are big for this season. I am beside myself.

2.
We made a sweet potato casserole with pineapple this year. It was yum. It's a variant of recipe called Yankee Sweet Potato Casserole found on www.cooks.com


Cook a mess of sweet potatoes.

Preheat the oven to 350 degs.
Peel and mash them.
Add honey, pineapple juice, brown sugar, butter, salt, amaretto, pecans.
Grease a baking dish.
Layer canned pineapple rings on the bottom 5 rings for an 8x8 dish.
Pour in the sweet potato mixture.
Layer canned pineapple rings on the top (5 rings on top as well).
Bake for 20-30 minutes.

The tart of the pineapple and the sweet of the sweet potato make surprising and lovely pair.

3.
Last week I finally came to the conclusion that my pants are too baggy. Probably because I've been listening to Katy Perry sing about her skin tight jeans in the track "Teenage Dream." That lyric has seeped into my subconscious as: girls in skin tight jeans find true love. Rationally, I understand that this is bull. But I have always irrationally believed that clothes hold the answers to many of life's problems.

At the Limited, I tried on a size 8, 6 and 4. The size 6 and 4 felt exactly the same except that I think the size 4 makes my muffin top look more pronounced. Naturally, I bought a size 4. I have not worn a size 4 in years. The prospect was irresistible, even if caused by size exaggeration and stretchy fabric.

They are not skin tight. But they are much narrower than all of my other pants. Bring on the love!

4.
I only read the New Yorker when I come home to visit my parents in C-ville. Excellent quote:

When Mary Jo talks about the experience[of rebuilding her restaurant], she says she tried to keep in mind something Provino Mosca used to say:"Without trouble, there is no life."

-Calvin Trillin

The article made me want to eat my way through New Orleans, or at least make a pilgrimage to Mosca's for Oysters Mosca, Chicken a la Grande, Mosca's Sausage, Shrimp Mosca, Spaghetti Bordelaise, Crab Salad and the Chicken Cacciatore. Because that's what Calvin gets when he goes there. Despite or perhaps because of the Thanksgiving holiday, I have a new dream vacation to plan.

5.
My mother put an electric blanket on my bed. We turned it on and noticed that there are two controllers - one for each half of the blanket. Couples can share an electric blanket and a bed while independently regulating the heat. Ingenious.

life littlest victories

I have been obsessively playing Minesweeper for almost a week now. It is a fixation that I fall in and out of. I played at the beginner and intermediate levels and recently been banging my head against the expert level. It's a 16x30 grid with 99 bombs.

This is not a pastime I would necessarily recommend. I have been spending a lot of time getting blown up which is discouraging.

When I play, sometimes I tell myself that it is an analogy for life or at the very least, my job. I hope that none of you has a situation in your life, the experience of which could be modeled or mirrored by Minesweeper.

The pace of the game allows a mind too much time to fret about things that are not game related which is distracting and makes one more likely to make a mistake.

Mistakes often made:

I click without thinking.

I don't pay attention to the whole board and I overlook available information.

I don't think out possible scenarios or become enamored of one possible solution and neglect to sketch out all the others.

I make false assumptions.

I make decisions based on previous games instead of focusing on the game in play.

I accidentally click on a spot that I intend to flag.

Sometimes I lack motor control. My fingers revolt and disregard the instructions sent by my brain.

Sometimes there are two configurations that will work, based on the information available and I pick wrong.

I generally tell myself that if I get down to 30 or fewer bombs on the grid, I am doing well. A few times I have gotten down to 4-10 of them.

But today, I won.



Yup. It was a pretty straightforward board. Not so ambiguous. Maybe I got lucky. Maybe I have finally learned something.

I am tempted to quit playing forever. But if I do where is the reinforcement for possible lessons learned? I might just take a break and play again later.