Make It Yourself

If you are a serious baker, known to be picky about your baked goods, many people will be loath to bake for you. They worry that you will be disappointed, that you would rather have something you made yourself or something made by a professional baker. They may or may not be right about this. The upshot of this is that if you want a cake on your birthday you have to make it yourself. I usually do buy myself a birthday present but I've never baked myself a cake. It doesn't seem right somehow.

My birthday is this Saturday. I am going out to dinner and I will eat some dessert made by a professional. If my friends manage to speak to the waitstaff on the side (they usually do and on one occasion got me involved in a questionable contest) there may even be a candle in this dessert. But I felt like some dessert today. In lieu of a whole cake I made some brownies using one of my favorite recipies. It's from the Califonia Culinary Academy book Cookies at the Academy.

3oz unsweetened chocolate, chopped
8 Tbs butter, cut into pieces
2 large eggs at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1/3 cup flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup walnuts coarsely chopped

As I said, I really like this recipe but I didn't have everything I needed so I made some changes. I did not want to open a new box of brown sugar so I used all granulated and I didn't have any walnuts. I also used cake flour instead of all purpose. This made the brownies very tender with a fine crumb. I have also been known to use only one egg. This results in a chewier browny. But I felt like cakey today so I used two. The lack of brown sugar also makes for a less chewy brownie.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
First, combine the butter and chocolate and melt them over hot water.


Once they have melted completely set the mixture aside to cool.
Grease and flour an 8x8 pan.
Combine flour, baking powder, and salt, stir to mix.
Combine the sugar and eggs and beat at high speed until thick.


Add the vanilla and the chocolate mixture then the flour mixture and beat until well combined.


Spread the batter in the prepared pan. On this occasion I used a pan I got at The Pit in the last Christmas grab bag. It has a pattern etched into it to make it stick resistant. I still needed to grease the pan but the first brownie (which sometimes gets mangled) came out just fine.
Be sure to get all the batter out of the mixing bowl. The bowl licking squad may try to prevent this. Try throwing the beater to distract them while you scrape out the bowl.


Bake for 2o-25 minutes until a toothpick comes out with a few crumbs clinging to it. Do not overbake. Let the pan cool on a rack for 10 minutes.


Cut the brownies and stand back. Since the cats were the only ones here I still have some brownies. I'm going to freeze some of them for future dessert need.

Wordless Wednesday #5 Chocolate, Sherbet & Banana Chip

Perspectives

Yesterday I listened to "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nightime" by Tom Haddon. I got the book on tape from the library. It was pretty good. The ending is predictable but that's okay. You'd be very upset if the book ended badly after all the hardships endured by the narrator. In case you don't know, the book is narrated by an autistic boy named Christopher. He sets out to find out who killed the neighbor's dog and the investigation sends him on an odyssey. He has what would be a very ordinary adventure for your average child but for him it is like climbing Mount Everest. The worst part is, of course, that no one he meets on this journey understands what is happening to him. They think he's crazy and walk away. Though this is what Christopher wants. His favorite dream involves him being one of the last people on earth and all the others that are left are like him so they stay away from him. And yet he does not want to live alone, without someone to care for him. He does get some help on his way but it is grudging and wary. I think that even now, in the information age, many people don't know anything about autism unless they know someone who is autistic. To further confuse the issue there are different kinds of autism and different levels of functioning.

I have also read "Animals in Translation" by Temple Grandin. She is a consultant to the meat and poultry industry; she helps them design their systems to minimize stress and fear in the livestock. She is also autistic, high functioning autistic. Her book prepared me for some of the things in "The Curious Incident" but it is still a compelling experience to see the world from a very different perspective. What must it be like to live without filters? Imagine walking into Times Square and seeing everything. And hearing everything. If you have not read "Animals in Translation" I highly recommend it. In both of these books you will find a whole other world.

Listening to the book made me think of my experience working with "special needs" children. When I was in high school I spent two years as a volunteer at a center for neurologically impaired children. The center had a range of children, some who were merely a bit hyper-active to those who could barely communicate. One of the boys was named Anthony. We volunteers were not privy to medical information but one of them told me she thought Anthony was autistic. I think she was right. His favorite color was blue and he wouldn't wear any other color. He had a blue cardigan sweater that he wore all the time, even in the summer sun. He said it protected him from aliens. He didn't like to be touched and often sat apart from the others. As an added bonus he was diabetic and you had to make sure he ate enough so he wouldn't slip into an insulin coma. We all carried candy in our pockets just in case. It happens so fast, the blood would drain from his face and he would start to sink to the floor. Then you would stuff some Lifesavers into him and hope you did it soon enough. His parents were really great. So very kind. They owned an Italian restaurant and they used to bring food to our parties. Baked ziti and lasagna. I think that they had to put Anthony in an institution. He was not high functioning and as he got older and bigger he was getting hard to handle.

The human mind is an amazing thing and I believe we can learn a lot about the world and ourselves if we listen to those who see things from a different perspective. We just have to be willing to open our own minds.

Screams in the Night

My downstairs neighbor has a stormy relationship with her boyfriend. Often, their arguments rise up through my floor. I usually can't distinguish actual words but it's obvious the conversation has degenerated into a fight. Sometimes I can hear her telling him to get out. There is also lots of door slamming. Last night they were having another fight. Then at about 11:30 she began screaming, not words, just screaming. I was already in bed and this jolted me up. I didn't know if she was being attacked or if she was just letting it all out. So I called 911. And waited. During the next fifteen minutes my neighbor ejected her boyfriend, did some loud crying and then apparently went to bed. The downstairs apartment was now silent. Fifteen minutes after that the cops called. I told them that the fuss was over but they said they would come and check anyway. Would I lookout and let them in? Sure, I said. Then I waited some more. Another 30 minutes in fact. Still no police. I called the precinct to tell them that I was going to bed and the officers should not come. The woman who answered the phone was very cheerful for someone on the graveyard shift in a police precinct. She told me not to worry about it. The call was probably unnecessary but I didn't want the phone ringing again just as I'd gotten to sleep. I suspect the cops got called to something more immediate like a robbery in progress and just forgot all about this little domestic disturbance. What I found more troubling was the long initial gap. In half an hour my neighbor could have been dead. I concluded later that no attack had taken place. She was able to kick him out without a problem. But it might just as easily been more serious. Perhaps if I'd been able to be more positive about her danger the cops might have come sooner. I hope so. I also wondered if I would have intervened if I 'd thought she was in real trouble. I like to think that I would have even though I was a little frightened. We have to take care of each other.

Wordless Wednesday #4

The Universe Provides

If you let it. Recently I have been paying more attention. Susun Weed and Dr. Northrup appeared to help me understand what was happening to me and this weekend my friend Bill came to visit. He has some issues similar to mine. Lack of satisfaction with his life, an inability to decide what to do, the feeling that he is behind somehow because he has not "accomplished" anything with his life. But his hole is much deeper than mine. His problems have been exacerbated by his second divorce which occurred three years ago. It caused him to retreat into his own head and he is only now thinking about coming out. Since his divorce he has turned to writing and has been trying to get published. So far he hasn't sold anything and this has been demoralizing.

I found as we walked around New York that I am feeling much more like myself. Like a Weeble I have bobbed back up. This morning we walked through the Heather Garden in Fort Tryon Park. The first crocuses of spring are up and I felt joy just to see them there, like hope rising out of the ground. But he seems to be incapable of this kind of feeling. Normally I love to show people New York City. They get excited by all the different things to see. And I get to see the city anew from someone else's perspective. This was not true this time. Though he commented on various things he seemed unmoved by the experience. I had trouble figuring out where to go and what to show him since he didn't have much interest in anything in particular. He did want to see Van Gogh's Starry Night but I think it was more to complete a set than to experience a work of art (he'd seen many other Van Gogh works at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam years ago but Starry Night was not there). I don't think he was affected by the painting. As I remember from college he was always self-absorbed but now he has truly closed himself off to world.

After three years he's finally hit bottom and is now trying to find his way out. This was really the purpose of this trip, to come and talk to someone new that he could trust. Apparently I fit the bill. We talked about his sense of failure and his dissatisfaction with his life. He's had much the same job history as myself. After the second divorce he moved back in with his parents (his ex-wife got the house) and started working with his dad who is a plumber. Now he has a place to live, few expenses, a good salary, and time to do his writing. But this is not enough. He doesn't have any sense of accomplishment and is envious of people who are successful. He seems to think that women in particular are successful and that they get things more easily. You can imagine what my response to that was.

I found myself talking about different kinds of success and about taking action, any kind of action, to break out of a self-destructive cycle. And discovered that I am really coming to believe it myself. Nothing like seeing your problems from the outside to gain perspective. Confidence is coming back, slowly, but it is coming back. I am coming out of the darkness. The deep despair is gone. It may well return at some point in the future but now I am better prepared. First time is usually hardest. And thank goodness. I really didn't like that person I'd become. It's good for you too, gentle reader, since you won't have to endure all that sadness.
My friend is on his way home now. I hope he starts moving. He's taken the first step. Now he must take another and another. Hard, cruel hard, but so very rewarding.

Wordless Wednesday #3

When It Rains, It Pours

My horoscope for this week by Rob Brezny:

Here you come dragging your exhausted but redeemed ass out of the deep dark forest of symbols. The red-eyed monkey demons fall off your back as you straggle toward the light. Your sunken eyes see wonders they were blind to before your ordeal. Your heart rages with a wild angelic love you've never tapped into before. And as you realize the magnitude of your tough miracle, you feel glimmers of gratitude for the rude tests you had to endure. Maybe you should get totally lost in limbo more often.

And just in time too. Last night I got a call from a friend I haven't spoken to in several months. She is not doing well. First, she's got some of my problems; worry over money, a feeling of listlessness and a lack of desire to do anything. She's a writer who has no will to write, a crafter with no will to create.

As if this were not enough she just learned that her parents are getting a divorce. After 30 years of marriage her father has had an affair.

My heart aches for all of them, especially for her mother. What must that be like, to face divorce after 30 years? She must be frightened of being alone, of dealing with all of her life. Her husband took care of all the financial things. Now she will have to learn. I feel for her father too. He may find that he's made a terrible mistake and that there is no way back.

My friend and her sisters are angry that their father has not tried to speak with them. I told her that I am not surprised. He feels guilty and he is afraid of what they will say. He has betrayed all of them. The worst thing is that now the past becomes tainted. They were a close family who went on vacations together, the parents still holding hands after 30 years of marriage. It all seemed wonderful and safe. Now it's all changed. The memories will be darkened by his act.

I was about 4 1/2 when my father had an affair. He too was weak and sat on the fence for a while, wanting to have his cake and eat it too, afraid to take the leap. My mother finally told him that he must choose and so he went. He stayed with that woman and they've been together for more than 30 years now. She is better suited to him than my mother was. But that does not justify his behavior. He should have made a clean break even though he was afraid and didn't know if the relationship with this new person would last.

As I was very small I didn't get the full story. But my 13 year old sister did. I think my mother was like me, she didn't have a very close best friend that she could talk to so she dumped a lot on my sister. I understand why, but it was unfortunate. My sister has never reconciled with our father and that is a shame. Not for his sake but for hers. One day time will run out. And it is easy to judge from a distance. We cannot know for sure what we would do in a similar situation. We may like to think we would act well, ending the first relationship before pursuing the next. But we don't really know. We are only human after all.

I told my friend about my father and my sister. I hope that she and her sisters will be able to forgive their father. It's important to be able to let it go. Otherwise it festers in your mind and it affects other relationships. But it's so hard to forgive when you hurt so much. I find it hardest of all to forgive myself for mistakes and bad judgements. And that is the most necessary thing of all, to forgive oneself.

Wordless Wednesday #2

Toilet Seat

I've been wanting to replace my toilet seat for some time. It's definitely seen better days. But My bathroom is an odd shade of pink. The chances of finding a matching seat are pretty slim. So I decided I should get something whimsical. A couple of years ago I found some clear resin seats that were pretty cool but they were only available in the UK. They were kind of expensive and the shipping was really steep. After a while I forgot about it then today something made me think of it again. It seems the market has really opened up. Target has some, Kohler has some, and ebay has 12 pages of toilet seats. Here are some of my favorites.

First we have simple, yet elegant.



Then we have girly.



A seat for the marine enthusiast.



Or the nature lover.



Or the Wild West type.



Or the urban sophisticate.




Or for the zen bathroom.



And for the archaeologist we have the Egyptian God of Eternity



So many choices. It makes it very hard to decide. What do you think?

Dream 1

I used to keep a dream journal. Writing down your dreams helps you remember them. I'm going to start that journal again and this is the first entry.

The dream begins in the middle of a battle of some kind but it's a quiet moment. In fact the battle never gets loud or chaotic. I am with several people, not people I know in real life. The enemy has 10 operatives that we are trying to find and eliminate. We've been doing pretty well and only number 1 is left. I am out on the battlements (we are in a fortress of some kind) and I decide to call out to the enemy troops, call out for Number 1. I am surprised when he answers. We talk for a moment and then I hurry off to find our leader and tell him I know where Number 1 is. I do, and then a woman and I rush back to the center of the fortress. I'm going to be late you see, I am playing Hamlet in the theater. I arrive breathless at the theater and despite my best efforts I am late, the curtain has gone up. In my haste I manage to spill both the coffee and the wine that I am carrying. I go to the backstage area and look for somewhere to rinse my stained clothing. I find an open room with a sink. As I rinse I ask the man who is there for a script. I don't know when I'm supposed to go on. When is Hamlet's first entrance? He tells me it's a 1 minute 35 seconds in. I tell him that I've never actually had a chance to play the part, what with the battle and all. But I do not actually seem that concerned about it, nor does he. I run out and for some reason out of the theater. I'm on a crowded street and as I realize I have left the theater, I ask myself, "Where are you going?" then I turn back. It seems a long way but then I see the marquee. I am almost there. At this point I think I become a bit aware of the fact that I am dreaming. I wonder, don't they have understudies for this kind of situation? Then I wake up.

Wordless Wednesday

It's That Time

The last few months my mind has been in turmoil. The last several weeks have been the worst. I hardly recognize myself and often feel as if someone else is looking out of my eyes. I've been asking myself what is the cause? Is it the risk I took starting the business? Is it self-recrimination? We often have questions and if we are willing to listen the universe may send us an answer.

I have been thinking of moving to a rural place. One of the places I have considered is Woodstock, NY. It's only 2 1/2 hours from New York City and has a pretty lefty, crunchy population. Last Wednesday I was thinking about it and Susun Weed popped into my head. She is an herbalist who has an apprenticeship program for would-be herbalists. I knew that she lived in Upstate New York but not exactly where. So I went to her website and she lives in Saugerties which is a little township a few miles from Woodstock. She's lived there since 1962. I also discovered that Susun was speaking at The META Center here in the city on March 1, the very next day. I dithered about it until the next day and then I went.

She's a very dynamic speaker and she is passionate about her subject. At the end of the talk she was going to answer questions and in order to prevent any embarrassment she had us write our questions down on a card. I wrote: "My digestion has always been very good and then in the last 5 months it has gone haywire." I went on to describe my symptoms. When she got to my card she read the first sentence and said, "Well, here's a woman entering menopause." That brought me up short. I know that our hormones can start fluctuating in our thirties, but menopause?

Then last night I watched a talk by Christiane Northrup. She was addressing the audience on the subject of women in midlife. The second section of her talk was about perimenopause. It's kind of like PMS, the part that happens before. Some women have a short transition. It's over in a few months. But this transition can last for as long as 15 years until your menses stop completely. I went online and googled perimenopause. Several sites had a list of common symptoms.

sleep disruption
digestive irregularity
joint aches
fluctuating menses
short term memory lapses
trouble maintaining focus
mood swings
depression
anxiety
fatigue

Right. So there we are folks. It seems I'm not crazy. I'm just perimenopausal. There are a couple of ways to deal with this. I could get upset about it and run around trying to find ways to supress my symptoms. Or I could embrace it. Dr. Northrup talked about this second option and it seems like the way to go.

I started taking birth control pills about 8 years ago. It was such a relief. My periods had been irregular and painful and now they were as regular as a clock and I had no pain at all. I did gain some weight and my blood pressure went up a bit but that was all to the good as it had been very low before. Then a couple of years ago I switched pills and took more of them so I only had 4 periods a year. I did have some concerns about taking so many hormones but it was soooo convenient.

Now I think I need to get off. Maybe not for good. Maybe I can go back just with a different pill that has a different hormone mix. But I have to figure out where my hormones are now. They have obviously changed and the pill is not going to stop the change. The pill worked for me because it provided what I was missing. Now that the mix has changed the pill may be making things worse. At least as far as my emotional state and my stomach are concerned.

Today I feel better than I have in weeks and better still now that I know I haven't lost my mind. Now I have to listen to my body and do my best to give it what it needs. This includes letting go of the past and honoring myself. It's also a time to let go of expectations.

We must be willing to let go of the life we had planned in order to come in to the life that's waiting for us.
Joseph Campbell

Daylight Saving Time

It seems I've been living under a rock. I had no idea that daylight saving time is happening 3 weeks earlier this year. We spring forward this coming Sunday, March 11 rather than on April 1. I also have to remember to change all the items that normally change themselves like my computer and DVD player. Apple has a patch up on their site but I don't think it's really worth it. I have to change all the ordinary clocks in the house anyway. But what a pain in the tukas for business! So much stuff runs automatically now and is time sensitive. This issue is being called a mini Y2K. Hopefully it will turn out as well and not make everybody too crazy.

Lucky to be in New York

As a self-employed soul in this country I am responsible for providing my own health insurance. Here in New York State the choices are limited and this has made it difficult. But it could be worse. In the New York Times today there is an article about health insurance or lack there of, in the middle class. The woman profiled in the article is a freelance real estate agent living in North Carolina. At the beginning of 2006 she lost her COBRA health insurance. She was unable to renew that insurance because she had had surgery for breast cancer in 2005. When she tried to get new health insurance she was turned away by just about everyone and those that did not turn her away wanted to charge her $2300 a month with a $5000 deductible per year. She rations her medication and puts off going to the doctor in case he does something expensive. She has even put off getting married because health providers have been known to go after a spouse's assets to recover their fees.

At this point I had to acknowledge that New York State is a very good place to be. The reason our insurance choices are so limited is because of the strict laws imposed on insurance companies. You cannot be refused coverage regardless of your health and you cannot be charged more than anyone else. They can decline to cover a preexisting condition but only for one year. It would still be hard for this woman but only for one year. She does make enough that she could afford pretty decent coverage especially if she joined up with the Freelancers Union.

Members of the middle class have rapidly been joining the ranks of the uninsured. Many companies are hiring more independent contractors and part timers in order to avoid providing coverage. Many people now work for themselves or for small businesses that cannot afford to offer health insurance. If you've ever tried to get coverage on your own you know that costs are high and getting higher. Health care has become a vital topic in the 2008 presidential campaign and has spawned a variety of ads on television sponsored by groups like AARP.
Health care has become a consumer product driven by market forces. We need to reclaim it as a force for good rather than profit. Polls show that most people are still resistant to government sponsored health care. It's true, our government doesn't have a good track record with benefit programs and it would be a logistical nightmare but wouldn't it be worth it? Instead of spending 10 action packed minutes with your doctor you might be able to spend long enough that he or she could get to know you. If profit was not an issue we could concentrate on preventive medicine, learn to maintain health rather than cure illness. A number of clinics specializing in the treatment of diabetes have closed recently due to not being financially viable. In other words, they don't do lots of expensive tests or use enough expensive drugs. Our very lives are at stake but we do not want to give up our consumer control. As the numbers of uninsured grow we are becoming a voice too loud to ignore. Maybe we can find some middle ground before it is too late for too many of us.

Relationships

This past week has been tumultuous, and that is putting it mildly. I am in real crisis for the first time in my life and I'm having to learn how to deal with it. My mind crashed and I can't just reboot it. Yesterday I was sitting out on the street watching people go by and I had the strangest sensation that it wasn't me looking out. At least not the me that I'm used to. To add to the storm I managed to have a terrible email conversation with my friends. Email is not the best place for pouring out your turmoil. It creates this odd and disjointed picture and you are missing facial expressions and tone of voice. But as awful as it turned out it did serve a purpose. It let the darkness out and now I have to learn to love having it out.

All of this got me to thinking about relationships, specifically the ones I have. I realized that my relationship with my friends is much the same as my relationship with my family. I love my family, they are all pretty great. I don't see them that often, mostly at holidays, but when we do get together we have a good time. But we don't really talk about anything more than skin deep. When my sister had a crisis of her own recently it was very difficult for her and her family. It took her a long time to reveal her troubles to us and when she did it was in an email that sounded almost casual. When she and I talked about it on the phone that too was almost casual. It was not an intimate conversation. And I understood perfectly. It's just what I would have done. Keep it light. If you keep it light that means it isn't as terrible as it seems and you won't be quite so vulnerable.

This is how I have always liked my relationships. At a slight distance. Makes me feel safer. This is the relationship I have with all my friends. Casual, relaxed, calm. And about as deep as a puddle. That's the rub. Without depth there is no where to go. I haven't had a best friend in a long time, not since high school. This is the price you pay for invulnerability. Or at least perceived invulnerability, for the real truth is that when you keep all that turmoil inside, you become vulnerable. It's like a building succumbing to dry-rot. It may look solid on the outside but don't slam a door to hard or it will just cave in.

I can't change my behavior over night. It will be a work in progress. I also have to get more friends, ones who share interests that I don't share with my current group. And I need to see them more regularly, face to face. Email is very convenient but it does not support intimacy. The hardest thing will be to open myself up, let the fears and the weaknesses show. I know that I did not feel any differently about my sister once I knew she was in trouble. On the contrary, I wanted to know more about her life and how she feels. But it's hard to change patterns of thought that have been around for more than 30 years. For example, yesterday, after all the emailing was over, I thought, how can I get back to the way it was? I can't of course nor should I want to. It may be awkward at first but in the long run it will be better.

I've always been ready to help my family and friends in any way they might need. Now I must learn to ask for help when I need it. But I also must be ready to stand firm when it comes to what I want to do. One of the other reasons that I don't share is that I don't want people trying to talk me into or out of things. I will accept suggestions and advice but I may not act on them. I don't watch Dr. Phil really but one day I happened to see a few minutes of his show and I had to agree with what he was saying. The gist is, people can to say whatever they want to you, you can't stop them. But you can choose not to react to what they say. Ooooh that's tough. I've got my father's genes after all, debating is in my blood. It's very hard for me not to defend my position. And I like to win, to be right. And this is okay when dealing with superficial stuff, e.g. politics. But when it gets closer to home I lose my perspective and it ceases to be a debate and becomes an argument. This happened the other night when I spoke to a friend of mine on the phone. Before we spoke I'd been feeling better. I'd made some decisions and was feeling much more positive. Then this phone call, that started out well, turned into an argument. Not an acrimonious one but I let myself get on the defensive. And at the end of the call I felt battered, filled with doubt again. But it was my own fault. I should not have allowed it to turn into a match over who was right. Because of course that's not the point. I should have stated my objective and my reasons. Then I should have listened to my friend's objections. Once he was done I should have said, okay, I will consider what you've said, thank you. And that would have been that. Instead I let myself get worked up into this storm of emotions over what wasn't even a proper debate. Once more with feeling: They can say what they want but you don't have to react to it. If I can remember that then I don't have to be afraid to tell the truth. I can make a statement and walk away even if the other person thinks I'm wrong. I don't have to prove that I'm right to anyone. And maybe I'm not. Maybe I will fall flat on my face. But I've done that now. And it turns out, despite the storm and the pain, that I'm okay. I have more work to do before I feel well again but I have made the first move. It's that first fall that's so hard. The later ones aren't so bad because you know that the pain doesn't last forever. And in spite of my cynicism and my tendency to imagine the worst, deep down I am really an optimist. I believe it will all turn out all right. This part of me gets suppressed sometimes by bleak thoughts but it doesn't last. My father says that when I was a child I was very cheerful and I think I really am still. It is glorious just to be alive. That is the part if me I need to nurture. These last two or three years the self-recriminating part has gained supremacy. I became consumed with the idea that I had not done enough in my life, that I had failed to live up to my potential. There's the inner guidance counselor talking. What I should have done at this point was to do more for my soul, my spirit. Instead of complaining about The Pit I should have gone out and done some volunteer work and gotten involved in some spiritual work. Gotten some perspective. Instead I let the toxic atmosphere poison me.
It may be that like many hard times it will turn out that this crisis was just what I needed. Many recovering addicts say you have to hit bottom before you can make a real change. Maybe that's true no matter what your self-destructive vice of choice might be.

Experiment

Okay people, all of you who comment here regularly are going to be part of an experiment. Fortunately I do not need ethics board approval, they'd probably want signed consent forms.


I've been reading a book on intuition and developing same. Imagine that I have handed you an envelope. There is a question in it. Now, without really thinking about it write down whatever comes into your mind. An image, a sound, a word, a sequence of events, whatever. If you don't get an impression make one up. Then put it in a comment and post it.

Simple. Don't think about it too much just let your mind go.

Subculture

Today I was reading Ask Moxie. I know, I don't have kids, but I find the current parent subculture fascinating. Did our parents worry about which stroller to buy? Were mothers consumed with guilt and feelings of inadequacy if they weren't able to breastfeed? Did strangers comment on one's parenting? The village may raise the child but I think the villagers have gotten a lot nosier and opinionated of late. It seems to me you need a thick skin to be a parent these days.

My own mother took a lot of flak for a choice she made. When my older sister was about 2 my parents sent her to live with our grandmother in Yugoslavia for 2 years. During those 2 years my mother got her PhD in linguistics from Columbia. She did what she thought was best though it was very hard for her. She knew that if she tried to divide her time between her child and her work both would suffer. I don't think my sister was at all the worse for this. My grandparents loved having her and she may have been a bit spoiled. She did not want for love, affection, or good care. It was an extreme choice that many among my mother's friends and family didn't understand. But I'm pretty sure perfect strangers would not have said anything. Nor would they have commented on the brand of stroller or the choice of food or clothing.

In many ways we have made progress. Children have better protection from abuse and we have greater access to information. On the other hand it seems we have become much more judgemental and ready to interfere. Parenting has always been a heroic endeavor and it has become even more complex. Every choice is scrutinized and occasionally published across the web. The local PTA has 50 committees and your child's friend may be on several medications. Not only are parents running to keep up with the Joneses but the kids are too.

Of course all of this only applies to the middle class. The poor have more important things to worry about, like where the next meal is coming from, and the wealthy have people to take care of these little worries.

Edges for All

Where do you fit in in the brownie debate? Are you like my aunt who loves the edges or like me who loves the middle? (she also sets her marshmallows on fire.) If it's the former then you are in luck.

Here it is, the Baker's Edge pan that gives you nothin' but edge. I thought of getting one for Meg as a belated birthday present but I'm not sure if she would really use it. She is capable of eating half a truffle and leaving the rest for later so I don't think she often bakes a batch of brownies. But maybe you know someone who loves the edges.

Intention

Some of you have heard me express a desire to live somewhere green and quiet, someplace with a garden. My thoughts first went to the Hudson Valley area, Cold Spring or Rheinbeck. These places are filled with ex-pat New Yorkers so they have amenities like restaurants and coffee bars and yoga studios. The consequence of this is that the houses and land are expensive. Houses go for millions and even empty lots can cost over a million. Also, the lots are few with all the development that has happened in the last few years.
What got me thinking about land was an article in the Times about small, eco-conscious homes. There are several companies out there that design and build little houses. They are very cute and have a small ecological footprint. Today I was online checking out land prices in New York State. I found some good prices in Ulster County. When I looked at a map of the area I realized that Woodstock is in Ulster.
Years ago I visited Woodstock in the company of my friend David. His mom lived up there, may still live up there. The town is very cute and as crunchy as befits the home of a rock festival. Lots of antique stores, crystal shops, and cafes. I'm going to hop a bus and go for a visit up there, maybe stay in the local B&B and talk to the real estate agency in town. The weather is warming up and it should be a really nice trip. It's only a 2 1/2 hour ride. I feel excited about it.
My intention is to discover what I want and need for my life. It's out into the universe now.

Got Soap?

I do. It's lavender castile soap. Castile soap is made from olive oil, just olive oil. I used the hot process and if you want the details go here.

For those of you who were wondering, yes, this will be addictive. You can all look forward to some soap in the coming months. Any requests?

I am going to make some using cold process too so I can compare them. I think it will result in a smoother looking soap. The current batch has some funky spots where it still looks gel-like. I can also use the current batch to make some liquid soap and some milled soap. Milled soap is soap that has been grated and then mixed with water and allowed to solidify again. It's a good method if you want to add fragrance or other ingredients that would degrade during the cold or hot process. It will also harden the soap so it lasts longer. It's the endless variety that's so enticing. You want to try all sorts of different oils and scents and shapes. I think that's really why people go into business doing this. Because how much soap can one person use? Or give away? You either have to start selling it or make a soap house. Not very practical unless you live in the desert.

Stones

One of my favorite books is "Hour of the Octopus" by Joel Rosenberg. The hero of the story is part of a troupe of acrobats that travel around performing for their keep. They don't have a wagon or any horses so they walk everywhere with their belongings on their backs. Before beginning a trip the hero finds himself what he calls a freden, a throw weight. It's a small rock, not too small, not too big. Then, when his pack is too heavy and the road too long he can pour all his exhaustion and pain into the rock and toss it away. This makes him feel lighter, able to continue. Though I do not travel the road I think I could apply this method to my life.

Then recently I heard a new use for a small stone. You stick it in your pocket or your bag and then whenever you happen to touch it, you think of something to be grateful for. A gratitude rock.

Perhaps one could combine these two ideas. You use the stone to remind you of the great things in your life and then when that is not enough you pour all of your frustration and anger and pain into the rock and toss it away. I'm going to see how it works. I'll let you know.

Stones

One of my favorite books is "Hour of the Octopus" by Joel Rosenberg. The hero of the story is part of a troupe of acrobats that travel around the performing for their keep. They don't have a wagon or any horses so they walk everywhere with their belongings on their backs. Before beginning a trip the hero finds himself what he calls a freden, a throw weight. It's a small rock, not too small, not to big. Then, when his pack is too heavy and the road too long he can pour all his exhaustion and pain into the rock and toss it away. This makes him feel lighter, able to continue. Though I do not travel the road I think I could apply this method to my life.

Then recently I heard a new use for a small stone. You stick it in your pocket or your bag and then whenever you happen to touch it, you think of something to be grateful for. A gratitude rock.

Perhaps one could combine these two ideas. You use the stone to remind you of the great things in your life and then when that is not enough you pour all of your frustration and anger and pain into the rock and toss it away. I'm going to see how it works. I'll let you know.

Toast

I've been reading a book called "Toast, The Story of a Boy's Hunger" by Nigel Slater. He is a British food writer and cookbook author. The book is a short memoir of his childhood that uses food as an anchor. The food he had as a child doesn't sound very appealing but it is inextricably linked with his life. The book begins with his mother scraping the burnt part off the toast. She does this every time but this doesn't matter. Nigel writes:
"It is impossible not to love someone who makes toast for you. People's failings, even major ones, such as when they make you wear short trousers to school, fall into insignificance as your teeth break through the rough, toasted crust and sink into the doughy cushion of white bread underneath. Once the warm salty butter has hit your tongue, you are smitten. Putty in their hands."

This got me to thinking about my own childhood and how food fit into it. I don't think Nigel will mind if I borrow his idea.

When I was about four years old I began to help my grandmother in the kitchen. She was a wonderful cook who could feel when the dough was right or the chicken was done. Naturally I liked helping with dessert best. One of my favorite desserts was apple strudel. I loved everything about it. The thin, almost transparent dough that was stretched by hand. The mixture of apples and cinnamon and the smell that filled the house as the strudel baked. Ema would always make some extra filling so I got to eat it, licking up the apple cinnamon liquid that had collected at the bottom of the bowl. Is there anyone that doesn't like to lick the bowl? There is love in being allowed to lick the bowl or the beaters. It's kind of intimate too. You wouldn't let just anyone lick your bowl.
And when you're little there is joy in being allowed to help, to learn, and to participate in creating a wonderful thing. Whenever I go visit my sister I cook something, like plum dumplings (more about those later). Her two boys usually want to help cook and though they often make the process much more difficult I cannot turn them away. Cooking for others is immensely gratifying. I highly recommend it. It can take you back to those days in the kitchen when joy was a bowl of apples and cinnamon.

More Human Oddness

You remember I wrote about the juror next to me who had gone from Vienna to Bangkok? Today we were walking to the train together and I said that as it was Chinese New Year I would have to get some dim sum this week. She said that she worried about Chinese restaurants, that sometimes they and the markets didn't seem too clean. And this from a woman who backpacked across the Middle East and Asia. I do realize that that was about 50 years ago but it still struck me as odd. I suppose it is like the former flower child who is now CEO of a bank. If I become staid and conservative in my later years remind me of this.

Soap

Now that I have my crock pot I am ready to bang out some soap. But I'm going to have to wait for a few days. The C-Town supermarket near me used to carry lye. I saw it there when I had a clogged drain and was looking for drain cleaner. I opted for the Liquid Plumber rather than the caustic lye. (It didn't work and I had to hire someone to come and clear the clog.) When I went back now to buy lye for soap making it was gone. Very annoying. So I have ordered some sodium hydroxide from a company called Saratoga Scents. They have a variety of soap making stuff including oils, butters, and molds. I also bought some pellet bees wax and some colloidal oatmeal. I've got the dry winter skin and I hope the oatmeal will help me out when I put it in my bath. I think I'll make some bath milk with milk powder and the colloidal oatmeal. Having looked around on the web I can see that I could make my own colloidal oatmeal. We'll see how it works.

Origins

Lady Epiphany put up a post about report cards. She writes that she felt terrible on the few occasions that she didn't get a good grade. It got me to thinking about my own experience with grades. I too didn't like getting less than an A but I'm not sure where that drive came from. Not my father or mother I don't think. I spent first and second grade in Montessori School and I don't remember if we even had report cards. I suspect that the teachers just wrote out a report and that it didn't have actual grades. Then during the year I spent in Yugoslavia I did get grades but they were all excellent and I was duly praised. Is that the beginning? It's hard to say. I found school pretty easy. In fact I don't think I brought home less than an A until senior year of high school when I got a B in physics, mostly due to a serious case of senioritis. I did do badly on a couple of quizzes here and there and I hated it. But I think the drive for the grade was all me, part of my own perfectionist tendencies. At some point I began to hold myself to a high standard. In high school I found people even more driven than myself for the high grade. 94 was not good enough, it should be at least 97. Why did I come to this need? Maybe it was so the praise would keep coming? That I wanted to be seen in a certain way by those around me? I know that I have always wanted others to think well of me, to see me as competent and intelligent and capable. This has manifested in other ways. For example, I like to know how to do a thing before I try it in public. I don't like to have to ask for help (though I will ask for directions). And if there is a good chance of failure I have walked away or not tried at all. I took some gymnastics in grade school and was just terrible. After that I never went after any sport. I did not see myself as athletic so I didn't try. Not being one of the best feels bad. I really can't blame any of my parents. I don't believe that they gave me this. Had I failed at something in school they would have been supportive and kind. What's the conclusion? I suppose I don't have one. It seems that I brought myself here. But I have been trying to change. To let things go and to try when I'm not sure that I'll succeed. But what if I fail at that?

Book Covers

Jury duty has turned out pretty much as I expected. Some interest combined with some frustration and just a soupcon of humor. The most interesting thing so far is the juror next to me, number 14 (I'm number 13). She's an older woman, retired, you can see lots of her on the Upper East Side. But it turns out she's led a very interesting life. When she was in her 20's she was living and working in Vienna. She met some people who were planning an overland trip to Bangkok and she decided to go with them. They backpacked across Europe and the Middle East all the way to Thailand. Once she got there she was out of money so she got herself a teaching job and ended up living there for three years. More proof that you should never judge by appearances.

Machines

I recently acquired two new kitchen appliances. And they were both free, but for different reasons.
First is the yogurt maker. It was a present from my sister. It is really idiot proof. You buy a quart of milk -cow, goat, or soy- add some starter or plain yogurt directly to the carton, mix well, stick it in the holder and plug it in. 8-10 hours later you have yogurt. You can add flavoring or sweetener and you can make it thicker by adding powdered milk or pectin. That's it. I admit, I miss having little glass containers but I love the small footprint.
It's called the Miracle Yogurt Maker.












The second appliance is a crock pot. I got it through Freecycle.com. That's a yahoo group that allows you to offer or ask for free stuff. It's true, it's not very attractive and it needs a good scrubbing and it is an older model that doesn't have a removable insert but it was FREE. Can't beat that with a stick.

Lesson

Today I gave myself a little present (in anticipation of my tax refund). I got a make-up lesson. It's something I've meant to do for some time. I never really learned how to put on make-up, especially eye make-up. The only person in our house who knew how to do it was Wendy and she was gone before I was old enough to really wear make-up. I did have a friend named Alina who was an artist. She had a huge eyeshadow collection and when I was in Junior High I would go to her house and she would play on my face. I remember once she did me all in gold tones. It was very striking. But it was all very dramatic and completely impractical. I wore the stuff every day in high school but it was just a little. I was mostly concerned with foundation. That I did get better at. Once I got to college I was sucked into tech theatre and anything extra went away. The nails got short and unpolished and the eye make-up disappeared entirely. Since then I have only worn make-up occasionally when I was going out. I stand there in front of the mirror, doing my best to follow vague instructions gleaned from books and magazines. The results are never satisfying. And I often think, "I should get someone to teach me how to do this". So today I did just that.

I went to the Dorit Baxter Day Spa. It is not a high end spa. This is immediately apparent when you enter. There are pitchers of lemon water but the furniture is a bit scruffy and there is a lack of embellishment. But the staff was friendly and I was not made to wait. The make-up artist was a good advertisement for spa services, her skin looked good and her hair was well styled. The effect was spoiled a bit by her leather pants but I could not hold it against her. She was also friendly and enthusiastic. She began by talking about eyebrow shape. She asked if I wanted her to go ahead and shape them. It was not included in the lesson and would be extra. I said sure, go ahead. You are now staring in disbelief at the screen. It's true, I have always strongly opposed such a procedure. Not on any moral grounds or out of doubt of its efficacy (I know it can have dramatic results) but because I know that once you start it is hard to stop. But I figured if I was going to do this I should go all the way. They will grow back and I may just let them go. We'll see.
She then moved on to cleansing, toning, and moisturizing. Knowing that she would want to sell some product I told her I had some that I liked very much. I did not tell her that I make them myself. I suspect she would have disapproved.
We moved on to concealer and foundation. She then applied some blush. This is where the first surprise came. She picked a bronzer for the purpose. I would not have chosen it but it looked good. Then she proceeded to line and shade my eye. Her mantra is "fill in only what is missing". Therefore, if you have eyes that slope down you fill in at the top edge and sweep up. On the other hand, if you have a lot of crease don't fill that in. And that dear friends, is where I had been going wrong. Make-up books can only take you so far. They deal in generalities and cannot address your particular issue. They deal mostly with eye shape and not droop of lid or the problems of down-turned corners. So they advise medium base on the bottom part, dark color in the crease, and highlighter on top, then blend. This is does not work for me and is the reason I was never satisfied with my attempts. Now I know. Some mascara and my eye was all set. She then put on some lipstick. This was the next surprise. It was a browny color, again one I would not have chosen but it looked good. I was now ready for day.
In order to get upgrade me for the evening she added some shadow under the eye to give it a smokey look and increased the bronzer a bit. This is when I got the biggest surprise. She put on this bright red lipstick and a coat of clear gloss. And it looked great! It would never have occurred to me. I have pale skin and small lips and so I tend to go for lighter colors. But in combination with the heavier eye make-up and the bronzer made it possible. I couldn't go out in the day with those bright red lips but for an evening out they'd be fabulous. Who knew?
I managed to leave without buying anything though she did give me a list of what she had used.

I don't think that I'm going to start wearing make-up every day but it is nice to know that I can do it well when I want to. I tried to take a picture of myself when I got home but it didn't come out well. You'll just have to wait until our next night out to see the results of my lesson.

Comfy

We interrupt your usual programming to bring you comfy cats.

We have some kisses too.

Saturday Meme by Me

I have tagged myself for a meme posted by Lady Epiphany. I don't think all of mine worked out as well as hers but you can judge for yourself.

1. My Rock Star Name: Xanadu Amsterdam

2. My Movie Star Name: Draga Truffle

3. My "Fly Girl" Name: Snin

4. My Detective Name: Crimson Goat

5. My Soap Opera Name: Nina New York

6. My Superhero Name: The Scarlet Shiraz

7. Futuristic Name: Burberry Dr. Martens

So I think some of these worked out better than others. I also had a hard time picking a favorite color and animal. To make your own fabulous names do this:

1. (your first pet, a street name you lived on as a child)
2. (grandfather/grandmother on your mom's side, your favorite candy)
3. (first initial of your first name and first two or three letters of your middle name)
4. (favorite color, favorite animal)
5. (middle name, city where you were born)
6. ("The", your favorite color, your favorite drink)
7. (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne, the name of your favorite shoes)

As Expected

Two days into hearing cases and we have divided into two groups. I am part of the larger group that understands our role. We decide if a crime was probably committed and if the defendant probably committed it. Period. Then there are those who seem to be unable to make this distinction. They also seem to want to hold the victim responsible. They wonder why it took so long for the victim to realize he was being victimized. They question the competence of his advisers. They want to know when he first realized there was a problem and so on. The bottom line, of course, is that all of that is irrelevant. The victim may be naive and need a keeper but that does not change the fact that the defendant committed the crime. That is the only question. One case in particular made me want to beat my head against the edge of the jury box. The ADA was very nice about it but I suspect she was beginning to feel put upon. It must be very frustrating not to be able to do some yelling about what is and is not relevant. We also have a Geoffrey. Some of you readers know what I mean. I don't think he will be punning but you never know. If you hear I have been arrested you will know what happened.

Jury Duty

It's official, I have the jury duty. On the grand jury. All you Law & Order watchers will know that the grand jury decides if an indictment is warranted. No decisions about guilt or innocence, just whether there is sufficient evidence for a trial. I won't be able to give any details as I have been sworn to secrecy but I probably will be ranting about my frustration with people and the process. The paneling was tiresome enough. People kept asking silly questions that were merely a variation on the question asked just before. There are three morning panels and one afternoon. Each has 23 people. I am curious to see how that will work. Do we all hear each case? It seems like a lot of people. We all know how hard it is to get just a handful to agree on anything. Even simple things like, where should we eat? Fortunately each session is only 3 hours. This will not eliminate silly behavior but it will limit how much we have to take in one day. My retail trained radar went off a couple of times as my panel was filled but hopefully most of the group will be reasonable adults. I also hope this experience will be more interesting and less mind-numbing than my last service which was a civil trial about plastic surgery. I can only presume that court reporters stop listening to actual speech and focus on just getting each word in. Otherwise they would go stark staring mad early on in their careers. I have no idea how judges stand it. They must have the frequent urge to beat people with their gavels. Maybe you get some special training when you become a judge that enables you to tolerate endless repetition and frequent loss of common sense. Maybe that's what law school is really for.

First of Many

The first pillow is done. I have a bunch more to go but the first is always the hardest. I had some angst with the sewing machine which was misbehaving. Then I did the sensible thing and dragged out the manuel. It seems that when I put in a different needle for the heavier fabric I put it in back to front. After fixing that things went much better. Always check the manuel. It will save you a lot of swearing.

I know what you're thinking. You're surprised by the fabric choice. Recently I've found myself attracted to more traditional, more romantic prints and colors. They feel warm and soft and sensual. It's probably my closet romantic coming out. Next thing you know I'll be buying floral print skirts and poet's blouses.

New Flor

The new Flor came and has been installed. As you can see, I opted for a more neutral approach. I had a problem with the texture of the House Pet. It's kind of hairy, like a terrier. To keep it clean one would need to vacuum at least every other day and better yet every day because of all the little crumbs and bits of food. I know that I am not going to drag out the vacuum every day. I do sweep every day though and the Working Class is smoother, more sweepable. It does not come in as nice a red so I got the tan instead.



I like it. It's nice and flat and sooo much better than the nasty blue carpet. It was easy to install too. I think I still prefer real rugs for a livingroom or bedroom but this stuff would be great in a kid's room or utility room. And it is a neat alternative to wall to wall carpeting.

And look, the new floor coordinates with the cats.

More Oddities

My walk from the subway takes me through a park and today in that park there was a piece of coconut in a tree. It was just sitting there, perched on a branch as if it had been carefully placed there. I couldn't help but wonder, why on Earth would you put coconut in a tree? On Saturday I had seen a man break open a coconut on a rock. This was in the same park though not in the same place. I wondered, did this man put the coconut in the tree or was it some other random coconut placer? I intend to go back tomorrow and see if the piece is still there. It might make a nice nest if a bird could manage to get it higher up in the tree. Maybe if he got some of his bird friends to help. Promised them bird seed and nectar if they helped with the move.

Missionaries

I had a real Mormon sighting today. There is a Church of the Latter Day Saints here in Inwood and I had some neighbors who are Mormon but I have never seen a missionary pair. Today as I headed to the farmer's market I saw them. Two young men in black suits and black coats and earnest faces. They attempted to speak to one man who ignored them completely and then a couple who I suspect replied that they belonged to the local Catholic church. The young men did not speak to me so my aura was functioning properly. I do feel for them though. I know the missionary work is a two year commitment. But I don't know much else. Is there a quota? If you don't sign on enough people you don't get the merit badge? I have some relatives who are Mormon though they are pretty low key about it. Once, when I was about 13 and my folks were away and my cousins were babysitting, we got a visit from Brother Smith and Brother Love. Since we had these Mormon relatives we decided to be neighborly and invited them to dinner. We also figured they didn't get much in the way of good food so we made lasagna. Brother Love was round, blond and cherubic while Brother Smith was dark and thin but he ate a prodigious amount. It transpired that he was one of eleven children and if you didn't eat up and quick you got shortchanged. I think they knew from the outset that we were a lost cause but they did get a good home-cooked meal and had a nice evening. Maybe someone will feed those two young men I saw today.

Horoscope

As you may know, I read Rob Brezny's Free Will Astrology horoscope each week. It is always entertaining. And sometimes, like this week, it can be maddening.

"When are your cats old enough to learn about Jesus?" asks The Onion, America's finest newspaper. Think about that question for a while, Aries. Then, once you've worked yourself up into a riddle-solving frame of mind, move on to these other, more pressing brain-teasers: When will you finally be old enough to figure out what you want to do when you grow up? When will it be the right time to reveal your secret super-powers to the world? How long are you going to wait before you get around to being completely committed to what you were born to do?

I ask you, is the man trying to make me crazy? If he wanted to be helpful he would answer the question for me.

You Must Go See This

It's a little video of a scuba diving cat. Really, go see. Just scroll down past the rat in the pocket and the duck in the shoe.

The Answer

And we have an answer. The voice from the past is a guy I went to college with named Bill. He lived on my floor freshman year-he was a junior. After he graduated he got married and moved to Florida. Now he is living in Rhode Island. He was at work and so we didn't speak for long but I passed on my email address so we will see what he's been up to.

Random Stuff

A couple of weeks ago I got this message on my voicemail from a man who said he was a voice from my past. He did not identify himself and said he would call back. He did, again when I was not here. Once more he did not identify himself. But I have the technology. That's right, I used *69. Now I have a phone number. Unfortunately the reverse lookup was only slightly helpful as the number is unlisted. I did learn that it is in Rhode Island. Having listened to the voice a couple of times I still have no idea who it might be. I presume it is someone from my high school days but we will see when I call the number back tomorrow. I'll keep you posted.

As I sit here writing this I am also listening to a program on Discovery Health about a woman who is both pregnant and (you'd better sit down mothers) paralyzed from the waist down. Now, you might think that this would have its advantages. No pain from contractions, for example. But in fact when the body has a contraction and then cannot communicate that to the brain it has a freakout which can result in a stroke. This is called autonomic dysreflexia. She will still need an epidural to combat this. Needless to say, she has a whole host of troubles including a difficult time regulating her body temperature, a susceptibility to blood clots, and she has managed to get a bladder infection in her 8th month. So far she has had 17 sonograms. She is now at 38 weeks and they are inducing labor. This is a long long process. She has to hang out for 15 hours while the baby drops and she dilates. The delivery itself does not take that long and between her and the doctor they get the baby out. It's a boy. Poor little thing, he is having trouble breathing and has been taken to the ICU. Fortunately he is out pretty soon but mom is having trouble. It is now 6 weeks since the delivery and she cannot sit up in her chair for long because her blood pressure is very very low. Dad is taking care of it all. It seems she has a uterine infection. Now that dad has gone back to work she has attendants to help her. She does not know if she will ever be as functional as she was. Maybe they will revisit her and we can find out.
Does this make your nasty experience seem a little less nasty? Probably not. But it is amazing what people can and will do.

My last random thought is certainly not least. It is a BIG THANK YOU to Lady Epiphany and The Queen of All who have graciously put an ad for my business on their blogs. They are the best. We should all have such good friends.

Reasons

Kind of heavy wasn't it, that last post. I wish I could say it was also cathartic. It was liberating, for someone like me who usually keeps things very close to the vest. But cathartic? No. I have done something which did make me feel better but more on that later.

I was very excited a few months ago as the business went live. I expected that I would remain excited but I haven't. Having spent some time thinking about it I've come up with several possible reasons for this.

Maybe it's the fact that I have no way to share the business. Oh, family and friends are interested and want to know how I'm doing but that isn't quite the same thing. There's no one else who is really part of it. I didn't expect that that would be a problem, quite the opposite.

Or maybe it's the fact that I have to be much more of a proactive people person than I know how to be. Going to chat rooms, commenting on blogs, and creating this persona for the business is difficult. I'm not really all that interested. I'm glad all these people are knitting and having fun but it doesn't hold my attention. I marvel at the long long lists of blogs people have on their own sites. I wonder how they can possibly have time to read all of them. It's a whole subculture and I feel out of step.

Or maybe it's the fact that I spend most of my time alone. I need to find more ways to get out and about. I've joined a knitting group but I think I need something that is not knitting related. This is another area where I feel out of my depth. I've always loved New York but now it seems too vast, and too expensive.

I know what you're thinking. It sounds like what I need is a partner. Someone who's as good at the public stuff as I am at the backstage stuff. A nice thought. But where do I find this person? Taking on a partner isn't like finding a knitting buddy. It's a serious step involving paperwork and people with briefcases. Perhaps instead of envisioning the business as successful I need to envision the perfect partner.

Now you want to know what I did to feel better. I made a decision. I'm going to get a job. I think it will solve several problems. And since I have some time to do it I'm going to get a job working for someone I can like. Some crunchy, tree-hugging, pinko, liberal place like the Lower East Side Ecology Center or channel Thirteen. Any and all suggestions gratefully accepted. We'll see what happens.

Warning: Self Doubt Ahead

I'm not sure if it's my stomach troubles or the lack of sunlight or something else, that has brought my darkness to the surface, but I feel empty. No ideas, no will, just a deep need to feel at peace, to feel content. One of the blogs I read is based in Lisbon, Portugal. The author and her husband just took a trip to Italy and Croatia. She had a bunch of pictures of Dubrovnik and Plitvice. They were beautiful pictures of places I've been and would like to go back to and all I could do was cry. I thought that by starting this business I would find my way. But it hasn't turned out that way. Oh, I know. It's early days yet, right? But I feel so tired, not in body but in spirit. I've always cherished my independence but I would give almost anything at this moment to be able to hand over the burden, to have someone just take care of all of it. I am filled with doubt. Not only that I can do this but that it is the right thing to do. I am wracked with a great longing for peace of mind but I don't know how to achieve it. I have tried to think positively and to live as if the business were successful. I try to be grateful every day for all that I do have but my mind rebels. I want someone to tell me what to do. I understand as I have never understood before why people seek to have faith in a higher power. I also can't help thinking that the answer is there if only I could see it, hold it in my hand. I suspect that some people would be surprised to know that I am in this state. It's odd for me too. I've always thought that I really knew who I was, that I was not defined by my job or by any other outside thing. But I'm no longer quite so sure about myself. Perhaps I need some help but from whom?
There. I'm done. And I'm going to resist the urge to delete it all and I will send it out into the Universe. As someone said, the Universe will provide. I must believe that is true.

FIXED!

The toilet is fixed, the toilet is fixed, the toilet is fixed!!! I am doing the happy dance around the house. New York Replacement Parts did not have what I needed but George Taylor Specialties (in SoHo) did. I had been there before a couple of years ago to buy a new stem piece for the hot water knob in my shower. I probably should have gone there first. No more gurgling! It's wonderful. I can barely stand it. Now I have to get the sink fixed. It is leaky as well and needs new fixtures. I have been procrastinating because there is no cold water shut off in my apartment or under the sink so I will have to get them to turn it off for the whole block of apartments. I hate to do it but I think it is necessary. It feels so good when something gets fixed.

Oddities

Happy Birthday Elvis and Stephen Hawking. Wouldn't that have been an interesting joint birthday party? Can you see it, a big bash at Graceland? Jailhouse Rock playing in the background while a seminar on astro-physics goes on down in the Jungle Room. I knew that Hawking had been diagnosed with ALS at an early age but I didn't realize that his doctors gave him only 3 years to live. Maybe they were confused and really meant to say 30 years. Not only did he become a well known physicist and author but he appeared on both Star Trek TNG and the Simpsons. That's when you know you've really made it.

Warning: Non Sequiter. Go here and check out the moose. Really. It's a moose farm in Russia. I really want one now but I don't think it would fit in my apartment even though I have de-cluttered. And the cats might not like it. I am thinking of getting some fish though. Fresh water. Any advice Alec?

Odd Priorities

I just finished watching Kill Bill Vol 1 & 2. It was TBS. They dubbed out all the swear words. I find that almost unbearably funny and unbearably sad.

Water Torture

For the last few months my toilet's been gurgling. It's a kind of torture really. As soon as I turn off the radio or the tv, there's the sound, drilling softly into my head. And if I got involved in something and forgot the noise for a while it always came back, louder than ever. The most annoying thing was that I couldn't figure out what was causing it. The gurgling was accompanied by a hissing sound so I thought maybe it was air traveling through the pipe. Then I took the flush valve apart and put it back together. The gurgle stopped. I was elated. But my victory was short lived. A couple of weeks later the gurgle was back. Then I discovered that if I blocked one of the holes in the bowl (the one leading to the water source) that the sound stopped but water started leaking from the rim holes. Proof that it was water leaking through the valve. But how? In an earlier effort to appease the toilet gods I'd bought my toilet a new diaphragm and new vacuum breaker. The offering was unsuccessful but I new that the parts were new and shouldn't be failing. Now, I was really trying to avoid calling a plumber. Who wants to pay a bunch of money for what might be a simple thing? So I posted on a plumbing site and got a couple of suggestions which weren't really useful. Then I went to this plumbing supply place on the upper east side. It's called New York Replacement Parts and that is just what it sells. It's one of two places in the city that sells parts for old fixtures. They can also custom make stuff for you. I thought I would ask their advice. They weren't able to help but a plumber who was there suggested that there might be a nick in the brass that the diaphragm sits on. This morning I took the nasty thing apart again. No nick in the brass. At least in that part. Turns out there is a tiny hole in the bottom chamber of the valve and the water is leaking through. And there's just no way to repair that. I'm going to have to buy a new valve. At least I know now.

Cleansing

I've been cleaning and getting rid of clutter. I know that it's a cliche at this time of year but I'm enjoying it. The yarn is now arranged in labeled boxes and is all in one place. No more huge boxes blocking the view. I'm also getting rid of a lot of stuff that I just never use. I'm a bit of a hoarder so I often keep things much longer than I should. I have a big bag of books ready to go to the library, a bag of clothes going to the Salvation Army, and old tapes to be recycled at Union Square this Sunday. I've also been really looking at the place. There's lots of stuff that really needs some love. Chipped and cracked paint, stains, cracked switch plates, etc.. After you've lived in a home for a while you get to the point where you stop seeing all those things you meant to fix when you first moved in. Every now and then you have to really look around, pretend you've never seen it before. You'll probably be horrified but then you can set about making it beautiful.
I'll be making a trip to the store for some spackle and paint as well as some fabric. I also have a brand spankin' new chair on its way here. I will post a picture as soon as it arrives. I can hardly wait.

On another topic all together I just saw a commercial for a new animated series to air on Spike. It's called Afro Samurai and stars (of course) Samuel Jackson. I can't wait for that either.

Brain Trouble

I discovered today that while good train karma is nice it will not save you when your brains turn to jelly causing you to forget important things. Like jury summonses. I had purposely left the summons out so that I would not forget. But somehow I didn't really grasp that today was the day. Not until 9:30 this morning. I was supposed to appear at 9am at 100 Centre Street for Grand Jury selection. I arrived at 10:45 and the court officers sent me away to 60 Centre to re-schedule. I suspect that if it had been a regular jury selection I would have stayed. Often there is no selection until the afternoon. But the Grand Jury is different. There is no voi dire. Jurors are picked randomly and serve a half day every day for 4 weeks. So I duly went to 60 Centre, which is the big building with columns that always appears in Law & Order (though it is the civil court), and into the Jury Commission. The nice lady behind the desk rescheduled me for the end of the month. I'm sad about that. I would rather have gotten it done this month but what can you do when your brains start leaking out of your ears? Like the man said, all's well that end well. When I get the next summons I must put it in Outlook and possibly hang a big sign on the wall that says, "Don't forget to go to court!"

Ringing in The New

Remember I wrote that the best New Year's parties involved sitting around with good friends and good food? That is just what the party at Lady Epiphany's was like. We ate yummy fried chicken and drank a bunch of wine and champagne. Karen took some pictures (I'm not sure why we let her do that. Probably post-prandial stupor). In the past year or so I have come to the sobering conclusion that I will never be a heavy drinker. Too much and my body just rebels and rejects the alcohol. This is not pleasant. I go straight from tipsy to huddled in the corner. Now I pace myself and have less than I think I can. This is paying off as I felt just fine last night and this morning. I also managed to have incredible train karma. The NJ Transit train was right on time and made it into Penn Station early. Then an A train showed up just as I got to the platform. This bodes well for the New Year.