Quodlibets

Addendum

Can I also just say how sad I am to see Lauren go?  She is a fantastic writer, and I think it's sad that she's throwing in the towel, though I guess I can understand why she's stopping.

Still.  She'll certainly be missed.

Hypothetical Situations

I was going to write about choice, because today is "Blog for Choice", but I keep typing things and erasing them, because nothing I'm writing seems to be right.  I'd talk about what I would have done had I been pregnant at 16, or if I got pregnant now (very possibly the same thing, the thing we're fighting about).  I wanted to talk about this stupid "culture of life" that's not even close to being what they've named it.  Mostly, I wanted to talk about how baffled I am that anyone cares this deeply about something that ultimately makes no f-ing sense to care about.

You want to care about saving lives?  Then, dammit, save some actual lives in progress.  That seems to me a more worthy cause.  Protect people who need protecting, and when we stop losing kids because of neglect and hunger and abuse and the lack of universal health care and whatever else under the sun is killing kids, then come talk to me about the unborn.  The unborn don't need protecting so much as the born and abandoned, or the born and screwed out of any sort of life by the government.  Anti-abortion crusaders are fucked up, because they don't care what happens to your child once it's born.  They only want to make sure you safely deliver it into the world, and then they're content to let anything happen to it. 

They want to make abortions harder to get, because they're not interested in lives.  If they were, they'd know that making abortion harder to get isn't going to stop them from happening, it's just going to make it a more dangerous game.  If they wanted to stop abortion from happening, they'd have to actually take a stand and support people besides themselves, by paying more taxes and funding social programs that take care of children and mothers.  If these people want to save lives, this is what they fight for.  They would fight for access to things like birth control, and the morning after pill, because those things save lives.  I've read places that the actual act of giving birth is far more dangerous than the actual abortion, so if you want to save lives, you start to figure out the problem of health care in this country.  You promote alternative birthing methods; you support women in productive ways, by becoming a doula or a midwife. 

But you don't stand outside of a fucking clinic and scream, "God wants your baby to live, mama" or "Abortion is murder".  And you most definitely don't shoot doctors, or bomb clinics.  When you do that, you've become a killer.  You've taken a life, or two or three, all while shouting at people not to take lives.  Do as I say, not as I do?  That's ridiculous.  Women who want abortions will get them if it's at all possible; you screaming at them or threatening them as they walk through the doors of the clinic will probably not change anything.  You're just being an asshole to a woman who is possibly having a very bad day in a string of bad days.  And you're not helping a single person. 

That's key, I think.  Those anti-abortion crusaders aren't helping a single soul.  Not one.  Maybe if they helped people.  Maybe, just maybe, I'd then be able to take their arguments seriously.  But I can't.  I can't while they stand on a fence and scream about god and babies and god and do no good for anyone.

Dinner (and a Penguin Movie)

So, there was no dinner experiment this week.  There was going to be, but then when I thawed the chicken for the new recipe, it looked fatty and gross.  And then S expressed his extreme dislike of anything at all approximating chicken parmesan.  So I chucked that idea in the garbage and ate a bagel for dinner.  Then, later in the week, I tried to recoup and figure out another recipe to cook (Hamburger and Fries casserole, and no I am not kidding, I will try anything that remotely looks like S will eat it) but didn't have the ingredients, and felt it wasn't worth it to go the store just so I could do a damn dinner experiment.  I'll do one next week, after I go to the grocery store tomorrow.

I will have you know that S and I tried a new restaurant tonight, that we enjoyed very much.  It's literally two minutes from our house and literally $30 or so outside of our budget, but I have a little extra cash right now, and anyway, it was a first paycheck celebration.  S had prime rib, which he seemed to enjoy.  Prime rib is a rather new addition to S's menu, acquired on our second Disney trip in '05.  My mom ordered it at one of our restaurants, S tried it (he has a history of ordering the wrong thing the first time at any restaurant, but also, he really liked the ravioli at said Disney restaurant), and decided he liked it.  He's never had it at a non-Disney restaurant, but it was the "special" at our restaurant tonight.  Regardless, my meal wasn't as exciting, but it was very good nonetheless, and we even splurged on dessert.  Again, no new recipe, but a new restaurant.  I'm gonna bend the rules and say this counts.

Anyway, then we came home and watched (what other Penguin movie is there?) "March of the Penguins" which yes, made me cry.  Who can handle seeing a dead frozen baby penguin?  I most definitely cannot.  Though, the scene with the pile of baby penguins almost made up for it.  Frankly, besides the cuteness, I don't see what the fuss was about.  I'm not saying it was a good movie, but I am saying that I've seen very similar movies (albeit without Morgan Freeman's dulcet tones) in biology classes.  It is, after all, a National Geographic film.  Not that there's anything wrong with that; a good documentary about animals is always fun.  Still, why this one?  In fact, I don't think that the baby penguin is even the cutest baby animal there is.  Still, it was enjoyable.

(Small addendum that has nothing to do with these aforementioned subjects:  I saw this over at Electrolicious, and now I think S is planning on buying one.  He says that it is the perfect "lazy man thing".  Why did I send him that link?)

Friday Random Ten (Again, Finally! Edition)

1. Stand Up (For It) -- Dave Matthews Band
2. Lisa, Listen to Me -- Blood, Sweat and Tears
3. If I Needed Someone -- The Beatles
4. Living Loving Maid (She's Just a Woman) -- Led Zeppelin
5. Firecracker -- Ryan Adams
6. Cello Song -- Nick Drake
7. I Used to Love Him -- Lauryn Hill
8. Everlong -- Foo Fighters
9. Humming (Live) -- Portishead
10. The Great Divide -- Neil Young

This is simply a delightful mix.  I love the combination rock and more mellow songs, like the Nick Drake song.  I really like Nick Drake (though I mostly just listen to his greatest hits album), but I don't think I'm going to shock anyone when I say that it depresses the everyloving hell out of me.  I mean, how can you be happy and listen Nick Drake?  Or is it: how can you listen to Nick Drake and be happy?  I'm never sure if I want to listen to Drake because I'm already unhappy or if Drake makes me unhappy.  Either way, his music is often a revelation to me.  I never can remember how beautiful it is between listens, but then I'm always struck anew by how masterfully wonderful his songs are.  It sort of sneaks up on you.  Unlike, say, Sufjan Stevens, which rather beats you over the head with how amazing it is.

Speaking of amazing, what happened to Lauryn Hill?  I know she's got the new Fugees album coming out, but where the hell was her next great album?  The Miseducation of is possibly historically one of my favorite albums of all time.  I used to pop a copy into my portable CD player in Rome and walk to Bibli, the little bookstore in Trastevere where we could purchase Internet time.  I would walk down into the basement (dark and utilitarian, as compared to the rest of the lushly appointed store and cafe; as compared to the rest of the city) and check my email from the people at home--but not at home.  I savored those walks around Rome alone, and in fact, one of the most poignant experiences I had when I went back to Rome four years later was riding the tram down the street where I used to walk, and just crying from the crushing emotion of being back.  We'd only been in the city for a few hours, preoccupied with taking the train from the airport to the Trastevere train station, and then hopping a tram, all with luggage.  And with S and Shawn, who'd both never been abroad before.  Everything was new and exotic for them, but when that tram turned down the streets I knew, it was overwhelming for me.  I can't explain it, except to say that I wished I was listening to Lauryn Hill.  I could hear Lauryn Hill in my head.  I dream of walking around Rome with an iPod loaded with my music, and re-making it into my city.

That mix above, it'd be a perfect Rome mix.....

10 Reasons why I'm Half Hipster

1. I'm a music snob.  But only sort of.  Becasue I love Dave Matthews and that's just not cool to those hipster snobs.
2. I like retro prints when it comes to clothing.  But I refuse to wear thrifted clothing, for many reasons that I will not expound upon here.  Thus, I cannot be a true hipster. 
3. I drive a German car.  So not hipster.  But I want a hybrid.  Hipster.
4. I use a Mac.  But I like to play non-cool computer games on it, like RollerCoaster Tycoon.  Also, I don't like any games where people shoot each other.  I suspect that's not cool.
5. I'm not a vegan.  Or a vegetarian.  Too many good foods come in meaty packages.  I accept that vegetarian can be good (my chosen Indian menu is exclusively vegetarian), but there's too many other good meaty foods.
6. I'm a pop-culture whore.  But apparently not for the right pop culture, because I like romance novels in a non-ironic way.
7. I love gay men, just like every hipster girl should.  But I currently don't have a gay boyfriend, to my eternal sadness.
8. I live in the suburbs.  Not cool.  And hopefully not for long.
9. I don't drink.  Or, rarely, anyway.  As such, I have no opinion whatsoever on drinks.  I like Bloody Marys and Amaretto Stone Sours.  No retro drinks for me.  Or cosmos or martinis or whatever.
10. I no longer smoke.  The chief hipster past-time is smoking too many cigarettes while drinking beer or coffee and showing disdain for the entire world.  Disdain I can do.  Cigs, beer and coffee?  Not so much.

I'm not good at early

I'm okay at actually getting up and getting myself moving, but I'm very, very bad at remembering things.  This morning, for instance, I completely forgot breakfast.  Consequently, I had to stop at the store on the way to work and grab a bagel, an item that doesn't quite work on the diet.  Usually, I eat a granola bar; this morning, I brushed my teeth before I dried my hair, which threw me off, and therefore, I forgot to eat said granola bar.

Usually, however, I forget to brush my teeth.  I think in my first week of work, I forgot every day.  I'm not kidding, either.  I always thought about doing it, and then I'd forget and walk out the door.  About half-way to work, I'd become aware of the general icky feeling in my mouth, and get embarrassed.  I've never been one to keep gum in my purse, but I do now.

I did better last week, but only because I woke up one morning and saw that S had put up a post-it on the bathroom mirror that said, "Brush Teeth".  Apparently, he's as distressed as I am over my inability to remember simple personal hygeine.  I remembered that morning, and then when I went to leave, I saw another post-it on the front door.  He's REALLY concerned, I guess.  Still, now the post-its are staying in place and I remember to brush (but not to eat, obviously) every morning, and I get to have a little early morning happy smile time when I think about how nice it was for S to remind me to brush. 

However, I don't expect him to put a breakfast post-it up.  I'm certain I can do better.  Maybe I'll start keeping a box of granola bars at work.

More on Brokeback

I only very occasionally read Towleroad, which frankly is a mistake, because it's normally a damn good read.  One of the things I've appreciated lately is the "all things Brokeback" news round-up that Andy Towle consistently presents.  I almost always read something that hits home; case in point these two quotes that he's found:

"The sight of Jake Gyllenhaal crying in his truck as he drives away from Ennis (who retreats to an alley and vomits in tortured despair) is enough to make even the bitterest woman swoon. That moment, like so many in the film, feels like an epiphany not because of the gay context but because for once someone other than the woman is crying. Traditionally, women have done the heavy emotional lifting."

"And I wonder too whether now, Brokeback Mountain won't be real now... not a physical place but a cultural space, a tangible moment in time in which some folks' eyes were opened to the pointlessness and unkindness of their bigotry."

The first quote definitely makes sense to me.  I didn't really cry during Brokeback Mountain, not like I have during some movies.  (There have been times where I've had to sit and mop myself up after a movie, instead of bolting out of the place, like I normally want to do.  Not so with Brokeback.)  I'm sure part of it was that I had read the story before seeing the movie, and found the story more moving.  I'm absolutely certain that part of it was that I was so angry at the world at that moment that I was too angry to cry.  But I think part of it was relief.  I'm not sure I can exactly explain it.  I think I was relieved to see the depth of emotion expressed by both men, ultimately and too late, in the case of Ennis, but still.  It rang more true to me than other movies have where men are emotional, and I'm not sure why.  I'm trying to think of a recent movie I've seen in which a man cries, and I can't pull one up.  But it usually makes me slightly uncomfortable to see men cry; Brokeback definitely didn't hit me that way. 

Of course, the second quote is on a completely different subject that the movie addresses, even if you think it's peripherally, which is that of the enormous bigotry (because I still maintain that this movie is to it's core political; it's a charged issue and it cannot be avoided) in this country even today.  When I was in college, on National Coming Out Day we used to chalk the school (common enough on campus; not so common when it related to GLBT issues; also against the rules, technically), and one of the things we wrote was "Someone you love is gay."  I think the best way, the most efficient way to defrost hearts on this issue is to bring it home.  In liu of bringing it home that way, I think perhaps a movie is a good way to get it out there.  And this movie in particular is about destroyed lives, and the lives are destroyed because of the love that's forced to hide.  Lives aren't destroyed in this film because the men are gay; Jack and Ennis fall in love before their marriages begin.  Both women (and the men, of course) could have been spared the agony they faced if only Jack and Ennis had lived in a world that would have embraced them.

I think people have to understand this to understand why their rampant bigotry is wrong; I think people have to see that it isn't the love that destroys lives, but the fact that the love has to be denied.  At least, I hope that's what people are seeing, because that's the truth of it.

I'm strange too

I've seen this meme everywhere, so because I am a follower, and without further ado:

Five Weird Things (about me)

1.  I'm repulsed by stickers.  And wet paper of the receipt variety.  And little taggy things.  And by repulsed I mean gagging and that whole thing.  I'm pretty sure that I could possibly throw up if I was forced to confront something horrible.  And if you don't believe that I'm actually gagging, ask S.  He's been in the presence of said reaction.
2.  I compulsively eat lime salt, both on my fingers and on popcorn.  When I was in college, some of the Chicana girls (my Catholic school had a sizeable population of Chicanas because of its Catholic nature) that I became friends with would bring it to class.  I think I was the only person besides them who could stand it.  To eat it, they'd lick that fleshy part between the pointer finger and the thumb and salt it.  Then, they'd lick that salt off.  And repeat.  I like it like that, but I also like to lick popcorn and dip the popcorn in the salt.  I love it.  I love the salty-sweet taste aesthetic that comes out of Mexico.
3.  I can't sleep without earplugs.  Even when I'm alone.  I started wearing them to get away from S's snoring, and now I need to get away from every little noise.  Even the heat clicking on keeps me from sleeping.
4.  My pinky toe barely has a nail.  I mean, if I paint my toenails, I sort of have to paint one on.
5.  I'm really bad at direction.  Notoriously bad at left and right.  Which is sort of odd, considering that I have an exceedingly good sense of direction, in general.  I just don't have a good sense of left and right.  I have a better sense of east and west than left and right. 

So yeah.  Am I a freak of nature now?

If everyone jumped off the bridge, would you?

Apparently, yes, yes I would.  I'm late to the game, but since everyone in the online romance community is talking about reviews, I'm going to do it too.  I'm just such a follower. 

Frankly, the whole thing is a little dizzying, with authors chiming in at every other moment and readers up in arms over insinuations that weren't insinuations and blah blah blah blah blah.  I'm a little confused about who said what, and why, so if I'm hazy on the details, you'll have to forgive me.  Maybe I'm a little abnormal, but I don't see what all the fuss is about.  (Then again, I've never written a book.  Maybe if I had, I'd be more sensitive to the issue.  And I've never written a book because it's too damn hard.  It's hard, and I know it's hard, because I've tried.  And gotten nowhere.  So none of this is supposed to be mean to published authors.  Anyone who can even jump over the "book is actually written" hurdle is one step ahead of me.)

I don't read reviews.  I don't use them, ever, in my personal life.  I find them arbitrary and useless.  I trust certain people to recommend books to me, and otherwise I just pick and choose from what looks good at the library and the bookstore.  I'll certainly take note of titles in magazines, but I usually don't read the reviews attached to the title (unless it's a book I know I won't read, ever).  I've certainly ended up with some clunkers, but that's okay.  I accept that as a hazard of being a reader; just like I know I'm not going to like every movie I see, every thing I eat, every CD I listen to or every anything I ever choose to try.  Does that make sense?  I don't trust reviews because I know we all like different things.

Here's an (anonymous) example:  I have a friend who has given me lots and lots of good romances.  But one of the first she gave me, I didn't much like.  But I still take book recommendations from her now, because she's given me many, many good recommendations.  It's just that none of us are identical in our reading tastes, and so this person and my tastes will never exactly overlap.  We may like lots of the same books, but we don't like ALL of the same books. 

I find that exchange, however, hard to come by with people who I don't know.  In time, you can learn (as someone on one of those comment threads said) whether you agree or disagree with someone.  But the truth is, you'll never wholesale agree or disagree with what someone says.  So isn't it just better to get out there and read and find out for yourself?  I think so.  At the very least, check the book out from the library (ILL can be your friend) and it's cost you a big whopping zero dollars to try a new author out, without being prejudiced.

Two last things:  I never write reviews on this site.  Okay, not never, but rarely.  I've certainly gushed about authors, but I've never graded a book.  (I do usually break this for heavily hyped books that I don't think live up to the hype.  You don't have to read reviews to know what's being hyped, especially if you have a boyfriend who works in a bookstore and you yourself used to work in a bookstore.  I also will break/broke this policy for the Time 100 books, just because.)  But considering that I'm still reading almost three books a week, I'm really not talking about what I'm reading.  I will give people I know books, and I don't have a problem recommending books when someone wants something recommended.

And that kind of segways to my second point.  I often give my sister books that I couldn't get through.  I don't think that we like all of the same books, and I'm not going to stop her from reading something that she might like.  Again, just because I don't like something doesn't mean she won't.  (I guess you have to understand that I give my sister books by the bucketload.  And she's often raided bookshelves either here or at my mom's house, looking for something to read.  However, I don't give her everything I read.  Sometimes they're library books, or of a genre that she just doesn't enjoy.  Although, that doesn't always stop me either.  She reads Janet Evanovich because of me, and I've passed Connie Willis books to her as well.  Mystery and Sci-fi being two genres she doesn't love.  Usually, I just use my discretion and pass her most fiction items.  Not much non-fiction, because mostly I get that from the library, and that doesn't get passed.  Anyway, digression.)  I'm always honest with her, but I don't think I ever really tell her NOT to read something.  Maybe Kate will disagree.  I don't know.

Anyway, the point is, who cares what anyone thinks of your books?  There's probably a passionate reader out there who loves them, and you should be writing for her (or yourself, as someone else pointed out, can't remember who), not the haters, who might come around, or who might not.  And as for listening to reviews?  Makes no sense to me.

Dinner Experiment #3

Recipe: Pizza Casserole
On Deck: "Mom's Chicken Mozzarella"  (not my mom's, though)

Because S and I will be away from home on Sunday, I decided to do the new recipe tonight.  It was pretty damn tasty, but like always, if we make it again, we'll tweak it.  It was also ridiculously (!!!) easy.  So easy that this is the kind of meal that you could make with ingredients you could keep on hand all the time, and throw it together in a jiff and bake.  S liked it (took seconds, and then picked out of the casserole dish when we were done.), and when I asked him if he is only choking my experiments down because he knows how much I want him to like them, he said no, he did actually like both of the two casseroles.  But when I told him that I'd found more casserole recipes for us to try, he said, "More casseroles?  You're crazy!" 

He might be right.  I do have an odd affinity for the casserole.  Maybe because we really didn't eat them when I was a kid; I think it was because someone in my family hated them or maybe it was because it was harder to find good recipes then (now, all you do is go online and search; not so much then).  Anyway, because he seems to think I can only cook casseroles, next time I'm making a sort of pseudo-chicken parmesan.  I don't like real chicken parmesan (I don't much like breaded chicken, unless it's in some sort of lemony-caper-butter sauce), so this might do the trick.  No breading, no frying/sauteeing.  We'll see.

Anyway, here are the basics of tonight's recipe: first, I sauteed up some ground beef with a little sloppy joe seasoning (which I was doubtful of, but really did add a nice flavor).  Then I pressed some reduced-fat crescent roll dough (you know, the canned stuff) into a casserole, layered meat, cheese, pepperoni, a small amount of pizza sauce, and the rest of the crescent roll dough on top of it.  That simple.  We used two cheeses (which the recipe called for) and I'm glad we did, because it tasted terrific.  I think next time, if we make it again, we'd use less ground beef (I actually use ground sirloin, but call it ground beef because well, that is what it is), and wait to put the second layer of dough on until about 10 minutes into the cooking process.  The top got too brown and the bottom not quite done enough.  Edible, but certainly could be better.

I'm really just happy that I stuck to the plan and cooked another meal this week.  (I almost always run the week in my head from Monday to Monday.  Just seems to work that way.  Which means that these two recipes were in separate weeks.  In my head.)  3 down, 49 to go.