My mom and I coincidentally both bought a lot of fruit on the same day because there was no communication, so we are up to our ears in fruit.... and it's time for experimentation!

I'm completely surprised that The Hills, the new reality show starring LC from Laguna Beach, has gotten pretty positive reviews in (mostly) credible places: I've read reviews by Time magazine, The New York Times and People, and apparently USA Today did one too. LC was my second-favorite girl on LB after Lo - I think LC's got a pretty good head on her shoulders, as noted by the NY Times reviewer too. It premieres tonight and it's the one show I'll be watching for a while.

30 May 2006

read

A girl who I've never met who worked at the restaurant last summer is back from college and called me tonight to see if I'd let her cover my shift tomorrow. Um... of course! This means that tomorrow morning, for the first time in thirteen days, I can sleep in past eight!

I finished Night by Elie Wiesel in a few hours (it's a short book...) but god, it's terrifying.

"American women who eat dairy products appear to be five times as likely to give birth to fraternal twins as those who do not, according to a new study, and one explanation may lie in dairy products from cows injected with synthetic growth hormone." ---> interesting...

We are lucky to get The New York Times every day. I always read the front page of every section except Sports, and sometimes the entire paper. I think of the Times as our entire world wrapped up in a few pages of newsprint. Anyone can find an article that piques their interest: the problem of identity theft (Arizona has double the national average for people whose identities are stolen), the ludicrous proposal to build a wall on the US-Mexico border, a nomadic tribe in the Amazon jungle that has decided to enter into life in the 21st century, the genius of Leonardi Da Vinci (with no nods to the ridiculous novel/book craze that is sweeping America), cheating in college, funny slices of life in New York City, those damn gas prices affected people's Memorial Weekend plans, how blogging might hurt your career, the food police are messing with kids' minds, England's self-worth = the World Cup, geography bees are way cooler than spelling bees, "using art to train doctors' eyes", French women look au natural, American women look trashy, traipsing (frugally) around Venice (Italy) just because, digging around for Egyptian mummies, will tv shows watched on cell phone screens be a hit?, and the German Pope's visit to Auschwitz. The New York Times has witty article titles and engaging articles, amazing photographs, and intelligent reporters. I visit their website every day (my homepage) and snuff out articles I didn't catch in the paper. It's smart, sophisticated, humorous, liberal, outspoken, daring and sexy. If The New York Times was a man (I bet it would take on the form of George Clooney), we'd be in a serious relationship. Julia once said to me that when she walks into bookstores, she gets an overwhelming sense of anxiety because she knows she will never be able to read all the books in the store. That is how I feel about reading The NYT. There are so many articles that I'll never read over my lifetime, and I want to be informed and knowledgeable about everything. But I'll read as much as I can.

If you know the number, you can now call my cell phone and I'll be able to answer! I finally went to Verizon and they activated my account on a used phone I bought on eBay. The lady was so nice that she didn't charge me the $20 it costs (for three minutes of typing on a computer, no less). I have the same cell number as before. I wish I could say "my mobile" instead of "my cell" but I feel like a wannabe! One day, when I live in Europe again...

I collapsed into a chair at Borders earlier tonight with a soy mocha (too much chocolate! it's coffee first and foremost) in one hand and this book in the other. I skimmed/read it and then bought it (a rare occurrence), completely inspired.

29 May 2006

blancmange

What have I been eating lately? Honestly, nothing very interesting. It is almost always oatmeal with fruit on the side for breakfast, salad or fruit for a late, light lunch and leftovers for dinner. Where do these leftovers come from? The one thing that Sunday night I make a lot of (like roasted vegetables) and slowly work through until it's gone. Pretty boring. I really haven't had the motivation to cook much. It might be because I'm pretty tired after work, and then after working out or doing yoga I'm just not in the mood to stand up for another hour. Snap out of it, Katherine! I will soon, don't worry. One thing I have been making a lot of is smoothies, now that my mom bought more frozen berries.

I almost didn't post this picture because the top looks (to me) sickeningly bright and slick but trust me, it was so good. I really think there's something in soy milk that makes smoothies work for me. Before, even when I tried using cow's milk or yogurt they sucked. This is just plain soy milk, mixed frozen berries, a frozen banana, and fresh blueberries. Also, I like that in smoothies you get the fiber from the fruit itself as opposed to juice, which is just the fructose.

The other night I spent the evening with two lovely girls. After failing to think of something all three of us would eat that I could make from the food in Andrea's kitchen, we all did our own thing. I, of course, roasted some more vegetables. It's a little disconcerting to cook in someone else's kitchen and be completely helpless as to where the balsamic vinegar is or how to turn on the stovetop, but Andrea was a gracious host and didn't display any signs of frustration with my constant questions. While waiting I skimmed over a cookbook about sauces and I noticed a recipe in the dessert section for Baked Ricotta with Fruit Sauce, or something like that. Conveniently, there was a new container of ricotta cheese in Andrea's fridge and frozen berries in the freezer. I don't think I've ever knowingly eaten ricotta cheese so I have no idea if it comes in different forms (hard, soft, refrigerated, open-air?), but we had what we had. Julia was the self-appointed motivator and magazine-reader of the group, so she had fun holding her camera up for a long periods of time and making me self-conscious. A second after this was taken I burst out laughing.

The "cakes" were baked in little ramekins for twenty minutes; easy enough. About fifteen minutes into the baking they looked exactly the same as when I put them in - a white, liquidy pot of dairy. I began wondering if I used the wrong type of ricotta or if I had added too much egg white, until I noticed that the oven was only mildly warm and kicked myself because I had put the ramekins in an oven that had been turned off after roasting. The second oven was a blazing 375. Quickly, they rose into puffy clouds of cream-colored cuteness. They weren't exactly golden-brown, but I thought they'd be fine. On top goes the berries and some berry sauce - looks delicious!

The top quarter-inch was pretty good - subtlely sweet, fruity, not amazing but good. However, another dip of the spoon revealed cheese that was wet and lukewarm. I had definitely not baked them for long enough. I tried to tell myself that this was not wet, lukewarm cheese; instead, that it was luscious, creamy pudding or mousse, but I just could not get the cheese picture out of my head. Texture is key. Andrea and Julia were more valiant than I, and I know they ate more... but I'm not sure, because I had already hopped out of my chair and scraped the contents of my ramekin into the garbage. You win some, and you lose some.

And last night, before seeing The Da Vinci Code (eh, ok) I made chana masala without a recipe. I finally had no leftovers left and only half an hour to cook and eat. Curries are pretty much the only thing I can have ready in twenty minutes. I was prepared for a mild, okayish chana masala since I just went with what felt right but in fact, it was perfect. The spices I used (cumin, curry powder, coriander, paprika, cloves, cinnamon and ginger) were not too bold but not too slight, and it was the first time chickpeas melted in my mouth. Sadly, I didn't have any rice in the fridge.

Chana Masala

1/2 an onion, diced

three cloves of garlic, minced

good-quality olive oil

one 15-ounce can of diced tomatoes

two tablespoons tomato paste

one 15-ounce can of chickpeas

spices (in order of decreasing amounts, I used curry powder, cumin, cloves, ginger, coriander, paprika, cinnamon)

Pour some olive oil into a wide pan. Heated until the oil easily rolls over the entire bottom of the pan. Over medium heat, add the onion and cook until translucent. Add the garlic and spices and cook for a bit more. Pour in the tomatoes and juice. A few minutes later, add the chickpeas and tomato paste. Stir together until all incorporated, cover the pan with a lid and simmer over low heat until you feel it is ready.

Here's something divine for dessert: take a ripe banana, peel and put into a shallow bowl. Take a spoonful of almond butter and drizzle over the banana. Microwave a handful of chocolate chips for a few minutes until melted, and drizzle over the banana also. Admire the unplanned artisticness of the drizzling, contemplate taking a photo, but instead just thank the Mayans (chocolate), the Southeast Asians (bananas) and the hippies (? almond butter) and make a note to take a picture next time.

Tonight I had some Belgian ale for the first time. It's so good! I like scotch whiskey, ale... who am I, an old hairy Scottish man? Red wine and brandy are the anomalies.

"I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights."

~ Maya Angelou

27 May 2006

why

I'd just like to point out that I'm amazed at how occasionally, like today, I can eat a good breakfast, drink two cups of wonderful, strong coffee and with plenty of time left before work, go into my closet and emerge two minutes later in an outfit that I look and feel good in. Why can't that happen every day?

12:11 p.m.

And then, at 11am after working for one hour, get to go home really early?!

25 May 2006

holla

God, what an old person I am. Julia's right. I sound like I'm eighty, not eighteen.

After spending several days pretty pissed off at my body and my attitude, I say to myself out loud that "I am in charge of myself". I can change anything I don't like about my life. So I am going to really, honestly try to run or take a yoga class everyday. Anyway, part from work, (which is easy and uninspiring) I have nothing else going on.

Unfortunately, I'm scheduled for the lunch shift every day for the next eight days. Do you know how much that sucks? That's 32 hours (give or take a few) at work. At least that's $256 made, but it's not like I need to pay rent or bills. I must tell Randy to schedule me for a few less hours next time. The more pressing problem, however, is that I really need to but some nice, modest cute yet comfortable tops for work, because every morning I dread and then struggle with putting together an outfit and in the process, my room ends up being completely strewn with clothes and I get stressed out over things made of fucking cotton. I also hate shopping. I wish I had a personal shopper who found the perfect things for me and they all fit and looked great. Basically, I'm trying to find a compromise between tiny, strappy tank tops (which I've never felt comfortable wearing) and button-down shirts (which, for my job, seem so... unnecessarily mature and professional). Yesterday was my last day off for a while, so I went to the mall in an attempt to find some clothes. I was in a sour mood and trying on clothes was definitely not going to help, and anyway, I didn't see anything I liked. I then went to Anthropologie and entertained the idea of buying something like a vase or a bowl for myself, but nothing I liked was under $98, no joke. Then I decided that flowers would be a much cheaper form of therapy. The selection at Trader Joe's was minimal, but Granola's (a new health food store which I'm afraid will close soon due to lack of patronage) had beautiful organically-grown sunflowers for only $5. And real licorice, and freshly-squeezed orange juice. The perfect remedy. I hate shopping for clothes. But I'm sure that half the people at work don't remember what I wore the other day, and the half who do don't care, as long as I don't smell of anything except sugar and spice and everything nice. I'm just going to have to mix-and-match the three button-down shirts and four skirts I have until I find the time and energy to attempt the shopping thing again.

23 May 2006

souffle

I love this op-ed.

I'm having technological issues. I've actually been enjoying life more without a cellphone, but since I still have a contract I finally had to buy a used one on eBay. I've made a promise to myself that this summer I'm going to spend less time on my computer and more time reading books like Andrea, who is my hero. I went to the library yesterday and started to read Bel Canto by Ann Pratchett. I also got The Transit of Venus by Shirley Hazzard. So yeah, more time enriching my life. (And I don't even have a Myspace or use AIM or facebook for more than a few minutes, which all suck out your soul). It pains me to think of the hours of my life I've wasted online. Also, television. I hate television (except for PBS). My brother and sister watch the most pathetic shows on TV for hours. Everything bothers me, from the cued laughter to the whiny voices to the terrible flourescent glow of the screen at night. I also hate commercials just as much as the shows. And don't get me started on television news. So cell phones, the internet, television... it's mostly just pissing me off. Of course, technology has made possible some wonderful advances in the world and I'm not saying we would be better off living in the Middle Ages (although I think I personally would like it there alright). But it's a double-edged sword; we create these devices that further complicate and muddle up our lives, that require maintainence and repair and updates and money and create more waste of glass, metal and plastic for landfills. Twenty years ago, no one had cell phones, and life was fine. Now, not having one is a "major drag". Myspace and My Super Sweet Sixteen take up hours that used to be spent outside playing games after school, getting fresh air and expending energy. I see the materialism and egocentricness of our culture seeping into my own sister, who only talks about the "freaking awesome cell phone" that she wants and the iPod she wants to be fixed right away. More things = higher status. Life revolves around spending money on things we don't need, and only buy because advertisers do a good job making us think we need them. The thirty-inch flatscreen? Why have that when you can buy a fifty-inch one? How have you been living without the fifty-inch? Are you crazy?

20 May 2006

shalalala

Everything in life is always better after yoga. Seriously, it's true. Not once have I left the studio feeling the same or worse than when I came in. It's like getting high, except so much better. I do yoga every day now.

I went outside just now to clean up some stuff in the garden, and my dogs were just begging for some attention. They're outside all day, usually alone, so I sat down on the grass and rolled around with them for a while. My sweatshirt is so soft inside; it's like the most perfect fleece ever, and I'm all stringy after yoga so I can move really easily, so I just started doing random things on my back on the grass. A breeze was dancing around, the birds were singing and I was soft and warm and the dogs were being lovable and mmmmm, it was wonderful! That is quintessential summer for me. Yoga-wise, my personal challenge is to do a free-standing headstand. I realized it has been years since I did a handstand outside in summer on the grass on a beautiful day. So I did, and then I realized the same was true for cartwheels. Honestly, it's been too long since I did one of those. So I did one, and then four more. The last one was the best; I was straight and fluid and it felt so good! Gets the blood flowing. From now on, I'm doing five cartwheels a day, for the rest of my life.

Whatever happened
To Tuesday and so slow
Going down the old mine
With a transistor radio
Standing in the sunlight laughing,
Hiding behind a rainbow's wall,
Slipping and sliding
All along the waterfall with you

Do you remember when we used to sing...

18 May 2006

decided

I arrived at the Scripps campus with a heavy, vintage travel bag in my left hand, a wrinkled Mapquest map in my right, and a lost, tired yet hopeful heart. I left the campus with a settled soul, an array of Scripps merchandise and a mouth that could not help whispering, "I have a college!".

After a few more hours spent wandering Claremont village and chatting on the phone to an old friend, I was whisked away to the beach. I ogled Danielle's gorgeous home, walked around the town and then along the shore, ate freshly-caught halibut, happily bundled up in the balmy sixty-degrees-and-cloudy weather, inhaled the ocean air, patroned several local coffee and tea houses, smiled often and talked for hours with a girl who is one of my closest friends. I remembered why I love (summer in) California.

I've made up my mind and I'm happy.

16 May 2006

shimmer

When I'm with friends, I talk a lot, so I'm sorry if I talked too much tonight. I really like getting out of my head for a bit and laughing and being somewhere else for a few hours. I should go to bed because I have to get up in six hours to go to the airport.

Today I spilled a cup of water at work, and tonight I spilled hot coffee onto my right leg. Thankfully my safari shirt saved the day. Sometimes I just don't want to be myself for a while.

California! I'm excited to get out of here for a few days. This time tomorrow I'll be mere miles from the beach.

Mere miles. Selimerem.

And I'm coming back with a decision, with an answer for the question in the top-right of this page. You can quote me on that. I will quote myself on that.

15 May 2006

steep

This morning I really wanted to attempt a full Wheel pose. The few times we've done it in class I got up half-way but somehow could never complete it due to time, fatigue or intimidation. Today the light was pouring through the windows and I felt inspired. Although I was able to push myself up completely, I'm the first one to say that this does not look much like what its supposed to. The inner critic in me saw the photo and immediately started chipping away at my flaws, and I have to stop myself before it gets ridiculous. Considering it was my first attempt, and that I was under a time restaint with the camera timer... I'm happy. I can only improve. (But I'm not good at setting up the camera to take a full picture, lo siento). The human body is incredible! Back bends feel absolutely amazing. Yoga, yoga! I love that essentially it is a series of stretches, many that we do as children, before it becomes unacceptable to crawl on all fours and roll around on your back. I love love love it. Look at this swami do such perfect poses!

Finally, food! It's not that impressive, really... we had leftover spaghetti and in Nigella Lawson's book Feast I found a cute, quick, "midnight feast" recipe for a spaghetti frittata. All it is is spaghetti beaten with a few eggs and freshly ground pepper and then poured into an oiled skillet to cook for a few minutes. I added some leftover roasted vegetables and then put the entire pan into the oven to be broiled for a minute.

Today I painted for the first time in a while. I guess I was expecting some fabulous result to emerge from the bowels of my tumultuousness mind, but no, it was "just" a lot of color and a lot of curvy lines. I need more paint!

I only have a week left to decide whether I'm going to AUP or Scripps. I'm getting so many mixed messages from my parents and from myself. I'm supposed to make the right decision, but I don't think there is only one. I just don't know anything, really, but I do know that I want to and have to make a decision soon.

Stanley Kunitz, Poet Laureate, died today at 100 years old. Anyone who lives past like mid-eighty is as cool as beans in my book. To get to that point I think you have to completely fuck the rules. How cool would it be to have coffee with someone who's 100? There are so many things I'd want to talk to them about. From the New York Times article: "Mr. Kunitz was excited about the prospect of poetry in the new millennium. 'I see a new aliveness with all the poetry slams, the cowboy poets, the feminist and gay poets, the experiments with rap," he told People magazine. 'It's like the beginning of the 19th century, the Romantic movement, which started with street ballads.'"

"A woman is like a tea bag. You never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water."

~Eleanor Roosevelt

14 May 2006

arpeggios

This afternoon, my entire being and soul was translated into words and analyzed for three hours. Do you know how that feels? Afterwards, you feel completely empty. After the meeting with Paul (a wonderful guidance counselor) alone and then with my parents, I drove home by myself and slipped out a sigh. It felt like the sigh you make after doing yoga or taking a three-hour exam. When you've been stripped of everything and have nothing left to give. Even though originally I acted like a piss about having to meet with Paul (my mom just told me I was going to talk to some guy), it was a really good idea. I really think that throughout this entire experience (the last nine months) I have grown in leaps and bounds. Just the way I think about things, about other people, about life, about parents and my decisions and attitude. It's incredible but I can't describe it. I hate to make people sad and it was hard seeing my dad's eyes well up this afternoon. I know that I must go to the place I think is best for me, but it's unfortunate that it might sadden the people I love the most. I'm going to visit Scripps on a day-trip this week, meet with someone in admissions and ask them why I should go there over AUP, now that the tables are turned and I'm accepted. Either the visit will affirm my desire to go to AUP or question my choice. On my personalized Google page, I have my daily horoscope as one of the things that shows up. I actually rarely look at my personalized Google page because the New York Times is my homepage, but tonight after dinner, I did. Maybe you don't believe in horoscopes, usually they're baloney... but once in a while mine is so in synch that it's scary. This is mine today:

"You may believe that you have it all figured out and are now ready to pursue your heart's desire. If, however, something in your gut tells you that it isn't right, don't be a fool and overplay your hand. Be patient; you may still get what you want. It's just that you will be better off if you wait until your judgment is more realistic before making significant decisions."

WTF! I'm on my toes.

P.S. The other day before school, Hannah made a smoothie that she calls "Hannah's originaaahl smoothie". This is a girl whose "smoothies" have more milk and ice cream in them than actual fruit, but anyway... she made me take a picture and promise I would blog about it. I forgot, and she was sad, so here it is.

She'd also like me to tell you that "Hannah looks like a fat loser in this picture and she doesn't look like this in real life". Take that for what you will!

It's Mother's Day and I love my mom! The kids (i.e. me and Hannah; Will set the table) made dinner - I put together pesto pasta and Hannah made "Hannah's amazing Asian salad", with a baguette on the side. Hannah was cutting up the vegetables with a good quality, large German cutting knife on a marble stone slab.

K: Hannah, don't cut on that! It's bad for the knife!
H: Why?
K: Because it dulls it! Metal on stone, duh.
H: Well, I think you're wrong. Look, it has lots of cut marks in the stone! If it's not for cutting, what's it for?
K: It's a cheeseboard.
H: You're so wrong. Liar.
K: Hannah, trust me, it's for cheese.
K: No it's not!
[this goes on for a while]
K: Whatever, please just use the wooden board!
[She grudgingly does, only because she knows how pissed my dad gets when we misuse our expensive knives]

After dinner, we're standing side-by-side as I wash the dishes and she dries them. She's drying the stone board, and, confident that I'm wrong about its purpose, asks:
H: Dad, can you cut vegetables on this board?
D: You shouldn't, it dulls the knife.
H: Then what's it for?
D: Cheese.

[Ooooooooooh!]

Now we're are watching The Aristocats - so cute. It was made in 1970! The guy at Blockbuster gave me crap for knowing that.

13 May 2006

flaversham

I returned my new cell phone to Verizon for a full refund with surprisingly zero hassle. When I came home with it a week ago, all my family could talk about was how I should have done what my brother did and bought a used phone on eBay for a lot less than $216. So I thought about it, used the new phone very, very carefully and after today's chat with my parents in which AUP might happen after some more stuff is done, I returned it. So right now you cannot talk to me by calling my cell number, but if you leave messages I can pick them up. Alternatively, since I'm living here for three months my home phone is a good bet too. I'm looking into buying a really, really old ghetto phone to use with my SIM card just for the summer, because in Europe, US phones don't work. And now that there's the internet, I can't really escape anyway... and I actually could probably live without a cell phone; I wrote down my contacts and my parents don't care if I use the home one, if there weren't still six months left in the contract.

Last night I saw The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?, a great play by Edward Albee with Julia, Garrett and his Dad. Sooo good. Odd and awkward, yes, but amazing. "Goatfucker!"

I've been a pretty solid fauxgan (pronounced FO-GUN) for a week or so now and actually yesterday I ate crab and chicken (!) in some kind of spontaneous rebellion. I really didn't enjoy the chicken, and the crab was only good because it was from the restaurant where I work. I don't know know what sparked it, but I prefer not having set rules because rules suck. So I'm just eating what I want to eat... vegetarian, vegan, whatever.

I just watched the old Disney classic 101 Dalmations with Will and Hannah, and now it's The Great Mouse Detective. I love the old, wholesome cartoons about mice solving mysteries in 1879 London and puppies rolling in soot to fool Cruella. Those were the good old days. When I have kids we're getting all the original Disney cartoons on DVD.

11 May 2006

help

Uh, this quote is very fitting for the moment:

"Contemplation often makes life miserable. We should act more, think less, and stop watching ourselves live."
Chamfort (French playwright, 1741-1794)

I've been given the 'go' on Scripps. But do I really want to go? I'm on a cloud all day about AUP and then my mom comes home and knocks me off it. Or did I fall off myself? My mind is a dangerous, dangerous instrument.

10 May 2006

ciao

Just now, approximately fifty-seven seconds into Let Go by Frou Frou, I suddenly smiled without meaning to. It just happened. It was slow, and my lips are a bit dry so I could feel every single second, and it was amazing. Everything is going to be okay! I know. And when it isn't, think of this:

"When Life gives you lemons...

You chase Life's ghetto ass down, throw it to the ground, squeeze the lemons into its eyes and yell, "Well, how do you like that, bitch?! Huh? How 'bout those fuckin' lemons?! Huh?! You got an answer, bitch?! Why you cryin'? Got some lemon juice in your eye?! Huh, bitch?! That's what I thought.

Can't take shit you dish out.

Bitch."

Funniest thing of the day: Driving north on the 101 with Hannah, who stuck her entire head out of the window and went "ahhhhhh!" for most of the ride. Her hair was plastered to her skull and then flew out behind her in a crazy, manic way. Other cars must have thought she was insane. Also popular was the arm wave. "Wow, Kath, did you know we're going really, really fast?! It's like we're a speeding bullet!"

I single-handedly moved all my stuff from my dorm this morning. I literally made at least ten trips back and forth from my room to the car, and then two trips to and from my house. I'm mildly concerned that I pulled a muscle or two in my arms because some of the bags weighed about fifty pounds. One of the perks of having a short distance between dorm and home is that I just threw everything into bags with no regard to shape, material or size. In it goes, squash it together, zip it up, haul it down. Superwoman in the orange shorts, right here.

My pal Fred.

And maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both grow old.
Well I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I hope so.
~ Ocean Breathes Salty, Modest Mouse.

09 May 2006

everythingwillbeokay

Where to start.

First: I'm done with school! My last final was this afternoon, following a somewhat stressful finals period, including a paper due a day before I thought it was, resulting in me scrambling together a 6-page paper in three hours yesterday. But I feel confident about my finals and anyway, they're over now. It's so nice to not have schoolwork looming over my shoulder anymore!

Tonight was wonderful because I had dinner with Julia, who is home for the summer. I laughed more than I have in a long time; I totally love that girl. Food-wise, I haven't been cooking much. I made a chili and cornbread casserole on Sunday which was pretty good; a little dry, less spicy that I thought it would be considering I halved the recipe and used the same amount of chilis as the orginal called for. Other than that, it's been simple things lately - roasted veggies, rice, salad. Today I finally had that previously-frozen dal I made in April. It was so good and so comforting. I've been needing some comfort recently.

So I'm not going to Barnard. I'm a bit sad I won't be in New York in the fall, but that's how it goes. Maybe I'll live there someday, when I have a job and can afford to enjoy its bounties. I've received no word from Scripps but don't know if I'd be happy there. It seems like CC but in California - small, homogenous, suburban. If I get in, I need to visit it. Right now the American University of Paris is looking promising... but I don't know if running away to Paris to live in a little apartment and be isolated from familiarity is the answer either. I sense that my parents are slightly concerned, and they've suggested some alternate ideas about what I might do, including re-applying for spring (the most terrible idea in the world) or taking time off. Hear me out: I want to settle somewhere. I want to stop wasting these few awesome years trying to find and get into "the perfect place" (because it doesn't exist). I want to be happy. I also want to graduate and get into the real world relatively soon, i.e. not when I'm 25. I want my decision to be respected. I don't want to have this continue to be a big hullabaloo - it makes me really anxious when people treat my present situation as something completely depressing and dismal. This is also my life, and even though the last year has been completely unpredictable, I have to giggle and see both the absurdity and amazingness of it. And finally, FUCK, I want to end the trend of having to even write about this. When my parents get back from San Francisco tomorrow, we're having a heart-to-heart and settling this crazy year and my plans, once and for all.

Stress from the above plus finals/grades has caused me to break out, and that stresses me out too! I went to yoga this morning which was wonderful; I needed to get out of my head for an hour and a half. I finally spoke with one of the great managers at the restaurant and arranged a nice work schedule for the weekend, so tomorrow I don't have to work and instead can move out the rest of my stuff from my dorm (aka that place I haven't lived in for two months but still has my pen jar and printer). I've also been loosely in charge of the household for the last few days - running after my siblings and hearing repeated sounds of the front door letting in the axe murderers, that sort of thing. I'd like to shut off my mind, take a never-endingly warm bath with big scented bubbles, go to bed and wake up many hours later with clear skin and a college.

I'm exhausted. Time for some mind-numbing MTV with Hannah.

07 May 2006

lense

This morning I woke up and felt different. Maybe it was because I slept like I had been knocked out, a blissful change after the tossing and turning of Friday night. But I think it was something more. I slept at the other end of my bed for a change, and I woke up first with the thought of "Where the hell am I?" and then to the glorious realization that I was in bed in my room on a Sunday morning with nothing to do all day. I wore a tank top to bed because I love the feeling of cotton on morning skin, curled arms, diving to rest on the other side, tucked away. I looked up.

I tried to guess what time it was. The clock was hiding. 8:00? After propping up to check: 10:30! How lovely! I rarely sleep in past 9.

The camera, tossed on the floor somewhere, was calling me. Baby, it's been a long time. It's spring and your creative juices are flowing, I can feel it. Pick me up and give me some love, sugar.

The only thing that could possibly draw me out of bed was my hunger. Last night I picked around the plates, not really eating, more like scavenging. I wanted food.

Remnants of the party were noticeable. A dozen bottles of champagne, for one. Odd platters and bowls, washed and ready to be stored again. My mother and her best friend, chatting and cleaning, their English accents falling pleasantly on my American-drenched ears. They took over the kitchen's island and the place where I normally eat, but a glance through the warm windows showed me that outside there were several large, borrowed, linen-draped tables from last night not yet returned to their owners. I sprinkled cranberries, raisins and walnuts into my oatmeal, liberally splashed soy milk all over it, and while it cooked I cut up a banana, scooped out the flesh of a kiwi, washed some green grapes and snipped up some figs. Coffee was already made and into my signature blue mug it slid. (I like it too much to care about headaches. They'll go away). I went outside, ate and read this with disgust.

Back on my bed, I pushed up the window and teased my dogs through the screen. Desperate for a friend, Charlie's wet nose pressed against the metal, tail wagging. My mother saw me and amused, came out and helped me free the screen from the windowframe. Everything suddenly became brighter, prettier, clear. I crouched like a frog at the end (or head) of my bed, looking at our gorgeous garden and thanking God for my luck in this world.

"Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy." Anne Frank

The sun shifted in between the clouds but the birds never stopped talking. Before I knew it, frantic bodies and clicking paws filled the frame. The dogs were ecstatic that I was no longer imprisoned behind a screen; I became tangible again. Charlie wants love. All Tinker cares about is the ball.

Whoa there, silly!

He was disappointed when I was tired of playing games. Oh, those eyes.

When you look at a face long enough, it stops being a face and starts becoming shadows, colors, shapes that fit together.

I am thankful for my mother's English upbringing and her unbridled devotion to flowers, because since I can remember, our home has always been full of them. So I present: my home, in flowers and a little wine.

My favorite is the Masi... even if I originally selected it only because of the shape of the bottle and the design of the label.

Poor orchid. I bought you many months ago at Trader Joe's and on my desk, deprived of natural light, you sat, day after day, craving only some water and sunshine. I forgot about you and almost killed you (I know, it's true) but I finally tucked you in my proverbial pocket one Friday when I left the tiny room I never really lived in. "Mom, it's dying! I don't know what to do!" I exclaimed to her. So she nurtured you back to life with her knowledge and her hands. Now you own the dining room table, observing our life while you perch in the uneven, chipped bowl that represents the only accomplishment I took with me from a pottery class at CC. How funny that the useless red bowl supports the orchid of faded hopes. But onto better things I go.

Even in the den among the blue plastic cups and empty food wrappers of my siblings, they manage to get by.

When was the last time you looked into something instead of at it?

Meanwhile, my devoted knight Charlie guarded my wall.

On Sunday, everyone generally leaves everyone else alone. The house was still. Music was wafting from my computer, but iTunes wasn't getting it right and I had to skip a lot of songs before finding a good one. I felt like chocolate, so I snuck to the fridge and took a half-eaten bar back to my room. There are few things in life better than good quality dark chocolate. It was not until I thought it was too hard and stopped pressing that a piece finally snapped off.

I felt like having some wine. Along with dark chocolate, we always have at least one open bottle. Because of the party last night there were many to choose from. I poured myself some white. Later, my sister popped her head into the room. I pointed to the glass, smiling. "You think you're all artistic, don't you?" she said. I shook my head unconvincingly. "Yeah you do." She knows me better than it seems, but she and I are more alike than most people think.

I raise a toast. To flowers and wine and chocolate and dogs and family and Sundays and windows. To friends and telephones and birthdays and cameras and colors and the sun and the future. To me. To you.

Sometimes we just need to remove the screen.

06 May 2006

afterlife

I haven't been able to go to yoga for the past few days, and I'm sad.

All I feel like I've been eating lately is vegetables and bad leftovers (see eggplant curry).

Work is okay. I don't mind what I do, but I've worked more than I wanted to work this week. But no more work until next Wednesday, because I still have two papers to write (albeit one that requires no contemplation, structure or grammatical precision to be given an A). I need to buy some black pants and comfortable shoes. I feel like I've been spending a lot of money on clothes lately. I haven't seen my sister in... over twenty-four hours.

I just had some coffee. Now I have a headache. Coincidence?

Tonight my parents are having a party. Yay? I'm being paid to help (a first). And I do have unlimited access to free chianti. But really, instead of smiling and chatting and repeating for the (thousandth?) time the same lines about school and the summer and the fall, I kind of just want to lounge around in my pajamas cooking dinner and watching a movie. Oh yeah, and I've been banned from the kitchen for the whole day. It's only [enter a food that is unprocessed, requires no cooking, and is vegan - salad? fruit?] for me tonight.

I just remembered that I have some dal that I froze a few weeks ago. Hopefully it will thaw in three hours.

After being in a coma since Wednesday, a very nice man at Verizon Wireless declared my cell phone to be dead today at 2:37 p.m. So I had to buy a completely new one, at retail price. That's the tiny price at the top corner of the sticker. Bitches.

Oh yeah, and [big sigh] the whole college thing everyone is so ansy about? Thumbs down for NYU. Tear? Nahhh. Barnard? I'd love it, but it might be unlikely now. Scripps? I think I would shrivel up in suburbia. I might just be going to Paris. But who does that? Me?

04 May 2006

hut

Happy half-birthday, self! Apparently only select females have any interest in the jolly idea of giving oneself a pat on the back on the 6-month mark of each year. My father and brother gave me quizzical and uninterested looks, respectively, when I announced to them that today I am eighteen-and-a-half. Granted, it's not a very exciting year and it won't be noteworthy for another 2.5... but at least my sister knew what I was talking about.

I finished my last homemade batch of hummus last week and I thought I'd take a rest from weekly production. No sooner do I decide to "take a break" with one of the loves of my life does its absence become pronounced. The meals I made all seemed to scream for a dollop of hummus on the side or a dip to tickle. So yesterday (morning, remember that it's the morning of yesterday) I decide to finally use the dried chickpeas I bought (since we were out of canned) and make hummus completely from scratch, dried beans and all. I don't like the idea of getting my beans from cans, sitting for god-knows-how-long in a cold, hard, ribbed, metal contraption that requires another metal utensil to even open. It just kind of freaks me out a bit, but it's sooooo much more convenient than the process that comes with dried beans. You can't just cook dried beans, you have to soak them and let them absorb the water and double in size. So I soaked the chickpeas in water for eight hours yesterday and around five-thirty at night, I started the actual cooking process. So I put them on the stovetop and three (yes, three) hours later, they still didn't seem completely soft, but close enough. I had been nurturing these damn beans for twelve hours. Into the fridge they went, and this morning I pulled out the food processor, my eyes gleaming at the thought of yummy hummus soon to be conceived. But... something was kind of off. I think it might have been the chickpeas, sadly... they were bland and didn't smell too nice after being cooked. So I threw in a lot of random things, well, to be specific: chickpeas, olive oil, tahini, garlic, water, [I realized later that - crap, I forgot the lemon juice! it would have helped!], cumin, paprika, cinnamon (for a change, you couldn't tell though), salt, pepper, tomato sauce (homemade from a few days ago), a bell pepper, and fresh spinach. I don't know, man. It tastes okay but not wonderful, and I can't assuredly pinpoint the offender because it's all blended. With all the additions, the final amount of hummus is equal to two square Tupperwares, and it is sad that I have a ton of something that only tastes - eh. From now on, I'm only using dried beans for something special and time-consuming. I really liked how this - part of lunch -looked, with the hummus flop in the center:

Next time, lemon juice and canned chickpeas.

Dinner was also kind of eh. What's up with eh food today, and on my half-birthday too?! I should be conjuring up food fit for gods! Anyway, I made eggplant curry from The Candle Cafe Cookbook, but I was too exhausted and impatient to let the curry simmer for the ONE HOUR called for, so I cooked it for only fifteen minutes. I think eggplant needs the full hour to cook because I didn't sweat it beforehand. But the curry wasn't bad, just... odd, with the undercooked eggplant. And I decided to make millet as the grain of the night. Although I've never made millet before, I was tired so I threw in some water into a pot with a cup of millet and cooked it. My grain-to-water ratio was a little off because after twenty minutes the water wasn't all absorbed but it was slowly scorching. So I had millet of the consistency of thinned mashed pototoes. Again, not bad, just weird. Today's food has been so weird.

I asked my mom to buy a lot of oranges so I can make orange juice. I've been craving orange juice and oranges recently (which probably indicates a deficiency or something) but I've gotten hooked on pure orange juice, not the bottled stuff. This morning I squeezed seven oranges into a tall glass and drank the best orange juice I've ever had! It helps that the oranges themselves are amazing; I had a whole one tonight also. I love good oranges.

Today was my second day at the new job, and it has gone well both days. My legs get tired standing up for three or four hours straight but that is my only complaint so far. The staff is friendly, my job is foolproof and I stand near the (open) door so the breeze comes in and makes me happy.

Two finals tomorrow, calc and french, at noon and seven at night. SEVEN AT NIGHT. On a FRIDAY. Why do they do that? And in between, yoga. I ran today after not running for a week, but because I've been doing yoga instead I didn't skip a beat and I ran strong and hard.

02 May 2006

opal

I am done with classes! I get to enjoy two days off and then three comprehensive finals spread over Friday and Tuesday, along with two papers due, one Monday, one Tuesday. I have not been feeling too well recently and I wanted to be warmed and comforted with good food. Tonight there were some great veggies ready to be used, so I debated between making simple roasted veggies with rice pilaf or a more involved vegetable tagine. I opted for the former, using Karina's recipes. I've made this once before but each time is slightly different.

Every single step of getting the vegetables ready satiates my soul. One: Turn the bottle upside-down and watch the olive oil pour from it's little spout into an large empty ceramic bowl. The golden oil spills enthusiastically from the spout and rolls quickly across the bowl's vast bottom, exploring the surface before thinning out as it rounds against the sides. Two: I love good-quality balsamic vinegar. I love it's blackness, the cute, archaic bottle it comes in, the way it tries to spills out. Hindered by a cap with holes in it, the vinegar falls through the air in odd splooshes that dramatically submerge in the olive oil before bouncing up to cling together in large moons. Three: Herbs. I love the smell of herbs perhaps even more than spices. They remind me of England. I liberally tipped out tiny pieces of dried basil, thyme, rosemary, marjoram, and fennel seed from their little jars. Four: I get an odd satisfaction from mixing things together. Nothing is complete until thoroughly mixed, after everything is coated in everything else. So I took a spoon and whisked. Five: Chop the veggies. Some people find this to be mundane, but I absolutely love it. Not only is it therapeutic (the sounds, the timing) and exciting (the glinting knife, the power, the control!) but you get to take something that is whole and re-shape it into little pieces. So I skinned and sliced and chopped my vegetables, and six: tossed them in the sauce I just made. Again, here is the 'mixing things together' part. After all the pieces were equally soaked and flecked with green, I drained them from the sauce, spread them on a baking sheet and roast. Ten minutes later, stir. If you'd like, soak great northern beans and kidney beans in the remaining sauce, toss onto the baking sheet with the veggies and roast for another fifteen. Meanwhile, I had toasted some brown rice in a little olive oil in a saucepan for a few minutes (oh, the scent!) and then added boiling vegetable stock, turn heat down to low. Brown rice takes an incredibly long time to cook - forty five minutes - which in rice time, is an eternity. It's worth it, though, because brown rice tastes wonderful. Toast some almonds in a dry pan (and don't burn them!) and add them to the finished rice, along with some currants or whatever dried fruit you like. Voila - it's pilaf. Pile the veggies on top of pilaf and admire... I mean, eat.