I can never really figure out where any thoughts emerge from in my mind. Lots of ideas and notions and desires and questions are always swirling around. Basically I live in a world of non-stop mental activity. And this includes sleep, where my nights are filled with vivid dreams -- so much so on weeknights that I have to nap on the weekends or I wouldn't get through life.
And I bring this up because I've been, for no apparent reason other than to give my mind something to gnaw on, wondering about my identity and my masculinity and I've realized that I've no hope but to always be queer. Last Sunday I ended up in a hotel room watching tv. I don't have tv at home bc I think it will mess up my mind. Funny right? How do you make a bigger mess out of the mess my head is already in? I see tv as a substance that should only be used recreationally.
Ok, so I ended up at the hotel bc the house lost power and I wasn't going to freeze my ass off and I had to get the car to the dealer in the morning so I couldn't head to the city and I also had this inexplicable burning desire to watch the Patriots play the Jets (although I found that I couldn't really root for either side since I don't care about either team).
After a much needed very hot shower and writing down my dreams in my dream journal I settled in to watch the game. And during a commercial interruption I found myself surfing channels and stumbled on the Cupcake Olympics (not really, it's Cup Cake Wars). Then I flipped between the NFL and the cup cake ladies. And I was almost more impressed by the cupcake wars.
I was thinking, would a real man watch cup cake wars? (openly? secretly?) and why do I give a shit about what anyone thinks of me?
It was then that my mind turned towards my brother's health, or rather illness, and I contemplated his masculinity and was thinking about the way that a person might get way too caught up in either femininity or masculinity and if that person isn't careful it could actually lead to some serious health problems. (I'll have to ask my brother for permission to discuss his particular situation before I can go on about that.) And even though I hate being vague and since my own brush with death was long ago and harder to directly correlate, I can say this: people who don't: watch what they eat, watch who they spend their time with, watch how they love themselves -- run the risk of becoming miserable.
For a long time I was a curmudgeon around baking and cooking. It was cool when the former wifey was doing all that, I got to sit back and eat a lot of delicious homemade food and had free access to the wife for other pursuits. But over the past five years of not having a wife I started to miss the food and the goodies (and the sex) and then I realized I could do something about the food and the goodies.
Now I make a killer chocolate cake that my roommate takes into the office for birthday parties. And everyone moans and oohs and aahs over it. So I'm almost glad I've been single and decided that in the absence of a wife I could start to kick some culinary ass in the kitchen.
And then my mind turned the corner and started to contemplate legacy. When all is said and done what do I want to be remembered for? I want to have been known for being loving, bold, strong, fun, fearless, and successful.
And after the cupcake wars ended and the Jets beat the Pats, I returned to Justice Hall (which I didn't think was as good as say: The Monstrous Regiment of Women or Letter of Mary) and then when I couldn't sleep (bc I'm really a night person) I turned on the tv (since it was there) and caught some of the Australian Open.
And the next week to keep my queer persona intact I baked cookies and watched a dvd on motor cross racing. And then I had the craziest fantasy. (You know when you're just sort of staring at the wall and you realize that a little movie is playing in your head?) I was thinking I'd like to bake something (a pie?) and enter it into a contest at a county fair later in the fall. Why not?
I don't have many regrets but I do wish I could've gotten myself together a little earlier in life so I could've entered a motor cross race one weekend and entered a bake off the next. And of course been happily married throughout.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
"If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything."
Until today at around 11:30 am -- as I was getting settled into my seat to sit back, "relax," and enjoy Black Swan -- I'd been pretty ambivalent to the whole steam punk subculture. Not that I have anything against steam or punks or subcultures it's just that I farmed for a year and if the steam punks took things to their logical conclusion they'd realize they have a cute aesthetic on their minds but nothing that's sustainable. After seeing the trailer for Sucker Punch I'm definitely thinking we should bring back dirigibles. Maybe for like a week. And even though I'd be hard-pressed to set foot in Disney Land (or World) or any 7 Flags Theme Park anytime soon, this movie could be transformed into an awesome ride. A la Indian Jones.
Hot chicks with machine guns, slaying dragons. Yes Zack Snyder you can have my $13.00. (And Yes I liked Watchmen and the 300.)
Hot chicks with machine guns, slaying dragons. Yes Zack Snyder you can have my $13.00. (And Yes I liked Watchmen and the 300.)
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
"I refuse to give into that feeling of despair."
“To see good people like this hurt, it is so grievous and causes me such sadness but again I refuse to give in to that feeling of despair. There is light in this situation. I urge everyone, read up about those who were hurt or killed in this shooting. You will be comforted by just how much anonymous goodness there really is in the world…and you realize that people you don’t even know, that you have never met are leading lives of real dignity and goodness and you hear about crazy but it’s rarer than you think…” John Stewart, on the Daily Show 01/10/11
Monday, January 10, 2011
No time for hate.
When I was young (age 4) one of my aunts was brutally raped and murdered and left under a porch in Roxbury. The next day a neighbor called the police to report this. The man who raped and murdered her was never identified. There was no trial. There was no closure. Decades of the question: “Who did this?” hovered over my family. (My hunch is that he died in jail sentenced for another crime.)
Here’s the thing, for whatever reason I have never hated the guy. Weird. I know.
And that probably sounds messed up but that’s the way it is. And I’ve thought about this over the years -- Why don’t I hate the man who killed my aunt? And in some ways I like that I don’t hate this guy because I’m not big on hating. (My hobbies include: eating, baking, cooking, brooding, reading, hiking, and such.)
My parents weren’t particularly friendly or loving -- to me, my brother, or each other. And for many years I was your run-of-the-mill self-centered, American, who consumed way too much of everything. As I got older I got a tiny bit wiser and I started to examine my actions/behavior and I wasn’t comfortable with who I had become so I set about changing that.
On September 12, 2001 – the day after I stood on 5th Avenue and watched the World Trade Centers collapse -- something in my mindset shifted. I refused to be afraid. (Not that I had ever been particularly fearful, I think I was more numb.) I refused to be depressed. (And I had spent many years very depressed.) I was really unhappy about what had happened – in particular that a lot of innocent people had been killed – but I took it as a wake up call.
Anger and hate can be catalysts of a sort but I don’t believe those emotions are sustainable. You probably won’t be able to remain angry or hateful for more than a couple of minutes at a time. And this is a good thing because if you were able to be hateful and angry for sustained periods of time you’d probably end up an extremely unhappy person.
I’ve been thinking about the kid who shot Representative Giffords and I’d like to be angry or hurt but instead I feel bad. And maybe a little bit powerless. But I’m taking this as another wake up call. And once again, I’m not going to give into fear. And once again, I figure the only thing I can control is myself. So yeah – it’s more vegetarianism, and public transportation, and looking to cause as little harm as possible.
I’ve been thinking about the ways in which a person could die: murder, disease, old age, accidentally, suicide.
And it’s occurred to me that I might actually have to reduce the emphasis I’ve placed on trying to have a happy-death and re-focus on having a deeper day-to-day life experience.
How can I live an honorable, valuable, interesting, fulfilling life?
The past couple of weeks I’ve been wondering about my writing. Now that I’m applying to Grad school I’ve had to think about writing not as art (something I do for myself, everyone can go hang) but as a way to earn a living (want to give me a chunk of change for that story? Thanks!). But that means that I’ve got to get published. And when I think about that and think about how fickle consumers can be I wonder if I’ll have the balls, the talent, and the luck to earn a living writing. But the funny thing is I can’t give up on it until I’ve given it a fair try. Seriously. If I’m not accepted to Grad school AND if I can’t earn money selling stories then I’ll give up.
Until then… life is a mixture of insomnia, visits to Good Beer, working behind the desk, writing, (writing some more) and refusing to hate.
Here’s the thing, for whatever reason I have never hated the guy. Weird. I know.
And that probably sounds messed up but that’s the way it is. And I’ve thought about this over the years -- Why don’t I hate the man who killed my aunt? And in some ways I like that I don’t hate this guy because I’m not big on hating. (My hobbies include: eating, baking, cooking, brooding, reading, hiking, and such.)
My parents weren’t particularly friendly or loving -- to me, my brother, or each other. And for many years I was your run-of-the-mill self-centered, American, who consumed way too much of everything. As I got older I got a tiny bit wiser and I started to examine my actions/behavior and I wasn’t comfortable with who I had become so I set about changing that.
On September 12, 2001 – the day after I stood on 5th Avenue and watched the World Trade Centers collapse -- something in my mindset shifted. I refused to be afraid. (Not that I had ever been particularly fearful, I think I was more numb.) I refused to be depressed. (And I had spent many years very depressed.) I was really unhappy about what had happened – in particular that a lot of innocent people had been killed – but I took it as a wake up call.
Anger and hate can be catalysts of a sort but I don’t believe those emotions are sustainable. You probably won’t be able to remain angry or hateful for more than a couple of minutes at a time. And this is a good thing because if you were able to be hateful and angry for sustained periods of time you’d probably end up an extremely unhappy person.
I’ve been thinking about the kid who shot Representative Giffords and I’d like to be angry or hurt but instead I feel bad. And maybe a little bit powerless. But I’m taking this as another wake up call. And once again, I’m not going to give into fear. And once again, I figure the only thing I can control is myself. So yeah – it’s more vegetarianism, and public transportation, and looking to cause as little harm as possible.
I’ve been thinking about the ways in which a person could die: murder, disease, old age, accidentally, suicide.
And it’s occurred to me that I might actually have to reduce the emphasis I’ve placed on trying to have a happy-death and re-focus on having a deeper day-to-day life experience.
How can I live an honorable, valuable, interesting, fulfilling life?
The past couple of weeks I’ve been wondering about my writing. Now that I’m applying to Grad school I’ve had to think about writing not as art (something I do for myself, everyone can go hang) but as a way to earn a living (want to give me a chunk of change for that story? Thanks!). But that means that I’ve got to get published. And when I think about that and think about how fickle consumers can be I wonder if I’ll have the balls, the talent, and the luck to earn a living writing. But the funny thing is I can’t give up on it until I’ve given it a fair try. Seriously. If I’m not accepted to Grad school AND if I can’t earn money selling stories then I’ll give up.
Until then… life is a mixture of insomnia, visits to Good Beer, working behind the desk, writing, (writing some more) and refusing to hate.
Galette? You bet!
I have a friend who is working on a vegatarian cookbook. Luckily he's asked people to test the recipes.
I'd never heard the word "galette" before and being the adventurous type, signed on to test the this recipe.
I'm not at liberty to share the recipe but I will post a photo and say this:
These galettes (read French peasant food) were DELICIOUS!
I'd never heard the word "galette" before and being the adventurous type, signed on to test the this recipe.
I'm not at liberty to share the recipe but I will post a photo and say this:
These galettes (read French peasant food) were DELICIOUS!
As easy as falling off a log
While my roommate and I were in the check-out line at Target (around December 27th) I turned and sniffed a box of cookies. (I was attempting to ascertain if these were the only kind of mass-produced cookie that I long for during the holiday season.) The cookies were white with green frosting.
My roommate asked: what are you doing?
I replied: sniffing these cookies to see if they are the kind I like.
Alarmed she said, Look at the ingredient list!
I had noticed there were about 30 or so ingredients in the cookies but at $3.99 a box it wouldn’t’ve been a hardship to purchase them take a nibble to find out.
As we approached the cashier my roommate -- with Robitussin and 4 boxes of tissues -- was greeted by the clerk, “How are you?”
I answered: she’s Benji.
The clerk smiled but was clearly bewildered.
When it came my turn to check out the clerk, had she been just a tiny bit sharper, might’ve gotten the joke. I had 2 DVDs: the Criterion Collection “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” and “Benji.” (Trust me -- these selections sum us up to a tee.)
On the drive back to the house I couldn’t get the desire for cookies out of my head. My roommate said she had a recipe for sugar cookies at the house. It turns out she didn't have a recipe for sugar cookies but rather for short bread.
(my take on short bread)
2 cups all purpose flour
10 tablespoons organic butter (unsalted or salted)*
1 egg from a free range, organically fed hen
half cup organic, fair trade, granulated sugar
In a large mixing bowl combine the sugar and butter, with a fork, until light and fluffy.
Mix in the egg until combined. Mix in flour until smooth. (* If you didn’t have salted butter in the house, add two pinches of sea salt, and mix until combined.) Shape dough into a ball. Break the ball into halves and flatten each half into a small disk. Wrap and place in the fridge for an hour (or until chilled).
Preheat over to 350
On a lightly floured surface, roll dough until it's 1/4” thick. Cut into any shape you like (I used an antique aperitif glass which yielded round cookies and then with the leftover dough I created Dadaist (or Cubist?) cookies (which might have been a bit rough on the eye but were as delightful on the pallet as their circular shaped kin).
Place on a baking sheet lined with wax paper (or parchment paper). They will be done in about 8 minutes. (Cooking time will vary due to the specifics of your oven. Feel free to make a test cookie.) They are done when they are set and have not browned. (Although the browned ones are not to be ignored and should be eaten with as much vigor as any other cookie you produce that day).
This recipe yielded approx. 20 round cookies (1 ½” diameter) and a slew of cubist cookies.
My roommate asked: what are you doing?
I replied: sniffing these cookies to see if they are the kind I like.
Alarmed she said, Look at the ingredient list!
I had noticed there were about 30 or so ingredients in the cookies but at $3.99 a box it wouldn’t’ve been a hardship to purchase them take a nibble to find out.
As we approached the cashier my roommate -- with Robitussin and 4 boxes of tissues -- was greeted by the clerk, “How are you?”
I answered: she’s Benji.
The clerk smiled but was clearly bewildered.
When it came my turn to check out the clerk, had she been just a tiny bit sharper, might’ve gotten the joke. I had 2 DVDs: the Criterion Collection “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” and “Benji.” (Trust me -- these selections sum us up to a tee.)
On the drive back to the house I couldn’t get the desire for cookies out of my head. My roommate said she had a recipe for sugar cookies at the house. It turns out she didn't have a recipe for sugar cookies but rather for short bread.
(my take on short bread)
2 cups all purpose flour
10 tablespoons organic butter (unsalted or salted)*
1 egg from a free range, organically fed hen
half cup organic, fair trade, granulated sugar
In a large mixing bowl combine the sugar and butter, with a fork, until light and fluffy.
Mix in the egg until combined. Mix in flour until smooth. (* If you didn’t have salted butter in the house, add two pinches of sea salt, and mix until combined.) Shape dough into a ball. Break the ball into halves and flatten each half into a small disk. Wrap and place in the fridge for an hour (or until chilled).
Preheat over to 350
On a lightly floured surface, roll dough until it's 1/4” thick. Cut into any shape you like (I used an antique aperitif glass which yielded round cookies and then with the leftover dough I created Dadaist (or Cubist?) cookies (which might have been a bit rough on the eye but were as delightful on the pallet as their circular shaped kin).
Place on a baking sheet lined with wax paper (or parchment paper). They will be done in about 8 minutes. (Cooking time will vary due to the specifics of your oven. Feel free to make a test cookie.) They are done when they are set and have not browned. (Although the browned ones are not to be ignored and should be eaten with as much vigor as any other cookie you produce that day).
This recipe yielded approx. 20 round cookies (1 ½” diameter) and a slew of cubist cookies.
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