Catching more flies with brown rice syrup.

I'm pro-choice. I'm also a vegetarian. In some ways, it feels like pro-lifers and vegetarians have philosophical overlap, and when either side takes that to its dystopic extreme, it seems to do more harm than good to their movement.

At first it might seem unfair to compare the two—though unfair to whom depends on which side you favor. But consider the tactics and imagery used.

Pro-life (anti-abortion activists, really) in its extreme uses blown-up photos of aborted fetuses and the shout the word of their wrathful god to picket abortion clinics and Planned Parenthood offices. Vegetarians—under the auspices of PETA or the Animal Liberation Front—protest with pictures of beakless chickens smothered in overcrowded coops and toss red paint on people wearing fur. Both are doing so in the name of saving lives or ending cruelty to living things. Neither are likely to convince many people to change their beliefs or actions except perhaps in the short term.

I'm the immature person who drives by a Planned Parenthood protest with my middle finger raised, but I haven't got much more respect for the off-putting tactics of PETA/ALF/et al. While I feel the need to respect all their beliefs, I disagree so deeply that it begins to offend me. I don't think it's right to guilt people into major life decisions, be it what god to follow, when to have a child, or what to eat for dinner.

My point here was less to compare and contrast vegetarians and pro-lifers and more to point out what I see as wrong with the vegetarian movement as the public sees it. Maybe it's because my entree into vegetarianism was the environmental aspects (e.g., raising a cow is an inefficient use of resources) and not because I hurt for the poor widdow animals, but I do think people are swayed by the latter too. Just not when people are confronting them about it.

I know a lot of foodies have been changing their meat-eating habits to avoid factory farming and opt for animals raised and slaughtered in more humane, sanitary conditions, and that those meats are more expensive leads some of them to expand their vegetarian repertoire. And, hey, while they're doing that, maybe they discover that there's a hell of a lot you can do without pork, chicken, fish, or beef. Radically changing one's diet is a difficult process and not one that's right for everyone, no matter how many Flash animations you develop featuring sad cows.

For me, vegetarianism is a challenge and an adventure. Sure, it's not adventurous in the sense that you get to eat offal and balut—though I do think people who do eat meat should own that fact and eat all the edible parts of an animal, which is what allows me to enjoy Anthony Bourdain—but in a puzzle sense. How can I make something delicious without using eggs, dairy, or meat?* How can I make it fresh and exciting? What can I learn to do better? What can I learn to make at home that I used to buy at the store (like fakin bacon—homemade tempeh bacon is rad)? Will my non-vegetarian friends think this is as good as I do and ask for the recipe?

That's how it ought to be done: careful personal consideration and a little helpful nudging from those of us on the other side. I'm not trying to convert, I just think that the more reasonable it seems, the more easily people can be won over by the facts. And even then, it's still a big personal decision.

* Note: I am lacto-ovo vegetarian still, but the vast majority of my home cooking is vegan for two reasons: (1) Kevin, (2) even if Kevin doesn't eat the stuff I bake, at least I know it won't be INSANELY unhealthy. Just SORT OF unhealthy, which is good enough for me when I end up eating the whole batch. Of dough. For dinner.

Cognitive dissonance and the 5 pm rerun of Gilmore Girls.

I miss this goddamn show so much, I make it a point to be home at 5 pm so I can rewatch every episode. They are coming up on the show's final season, which I have only seen once. I miss this stupid show like I miss my friends back home. Okay, not really, but I still love it.

There's nothing truly wrong with loving/missing a TV show. I mean, it's stupid, but it's not wrong and I don't let it interfere with my life. The cognitive dissonance comes with its home on the ABC Family channel, which, aside from the hilarious "a new kind of family" tagline, has a pretty heavy "family values" bent. "Family values" being code for "overzealous Christian."

Every goddamn night during my precious Gilmore Girls rerun, these assholes have a commercial for the "inspirational" Christian power ballads collection, I Can Only Imagine. Take a moment to look at the Amazon page. It's not a fucking joke.

The commercial involves snippets of several songs -- two by Amy Grant, beloved of 12-year-old girls everywhere circa 1993; one of the song that made me leave the Catholic church, "Awesome God;" "God Is In Control" with a chick who looks kind of like a toned-down Cyndi Lauper (sorry Cyndi); the horrific "Butterfly Kisses;" and "In Christ Alone" by Michael English, who sings with his eyes closed and looks like a child molester. It sicks me out every single time I see this thing and fail to get to the mute button on my remote in time.

This commercial is slowly driving me insane.

Maker Faire 2008

fashion show
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

I was looking through my photos of this illustrious event and thinking, "If someone saw this, would it confuse them, yet make them want to attend?" This best fits the bill, I'd wager.

Yes, as part of a fashion show, there were people wearing bike tires and rolling around the runway on unicycles. And it wasn't even the weirdest costume (that would be the teddy bear suits).

In its third year, the Maker Faire has attaracted all kinds of media attention and been featured on many a local newscast/front page/radio report. The traffic was backed up onto the offramp from 101 and well down the ramp off Highway 92 onto Delaware St. I mean, stopped dead. The cars that could were pulling out into traffic and swerving around to take another exit. I did the same, knowing there was more than one way into this damn thing, and got off at El Camino Real, parked for a few minutes to orient myself, and eventually made it over to the fairgrounds, where my car and I sat in a long parking line for, oh, probably half an hour. That was the time to get from the turn onto Saratoga St. until I gave someone my $8 highway robbery fee and then had my car waved over to the Choose Your Own Adventure lot, where people were just parking haphazardly and I'm amazed no cars were apparently harmed in the debacle. Oh, and this was at 10:30 (to sometime after 11) in the morning, half hour after it opened. It was a freaking cluster.

Once inside, I met up with my sister and a friend of hers I hadn't met before, Tara, who is a fellow veggie and works for the only manufacturer of non-shitty frozen food, and we began our wanderings. First we took a walk around the food court, where we were plied with delicious, free chocolates. I told them we should buy our lunches now to avoid crowds later, but they were distracted by the allure of soft serve, so I went to investigate a place advertising Vietnamese sandwiches. They did not have the sandwiches yet. I do not know if they ever got the sandwiches, because the second time I tried they still weren't there so I got a veggie burger.

We wandered around all the buildings and areas, sometimes in a group and sometimes not, sometimes stopping to talk to people in booths. I talked to the woman manning The Onion's booth and she told me a bit about how they work. I picked up a copy of Edible San Francisco from their booth and tried to chat with the publisher but he didn't seem interested. The Bay Area Vegetarians caught me eyeballing their booth and called out, "Are you ready to make a change?" and then tried to make me feel like a jerk because I'm not a vegan. And that whole scene is a rant unto itself, but I'm babbling enough already.

I enjoyed a demonstration by this guy on how to make carrot caviar using the science of molecular gastronomy, then another from this lady on how to make your own shampoo from garden clippings. The latter also discussed her series of eco-friendly travel guides for cities less traveled and afterwards let me flip through her brand-new one on Olympia (!). Both the demonstrations were something I now actually want to try at home.

To cap it off, I watched belly dancing, tightrope walking, and fire eating with my sister, then we caught up with her friend's fashion show and watched that. And that is where I took most of my pictures, because it was fun to play photographer, even with a POS.

Kevin is going today with his fellow coder friend from Australia. I am sure they will find completely different adventures. That's the beautiful thing about the Maker Faire -- there's something for every geek.

Petty things that drive me crazy #3.

Again, I'd like to write about a commercial. Or, rather, a series of TV commercials. I realize that the way advertising is sold on cable means that most ads are run nationally, so sometimes you'll see commercials for things that don't apply to your location, for example, Sonic. Sometimes it amazes me we get Dreyers commercials instead of Edys.

But sometimes you end up with a commercial advertising the place you ARE. Such is the case with the series from the California tourism board, selling vacations to the state by saying, "Find yourself here." They all feature famous Californians--not least of whom is the Governator--speaking about how great the state is. One of them "cleverly" declares that California is full of hard workers, and it ends with Ahhhnold (I've lived here HOW long and I still can't take him seriously?) asking, "When can you start?"

Why it annoys me, I can't quite say. Part of it is that I have to see advertising for the place I already live. Part of it is that they talk about "work" and work is hard to find. Part of it is that I just want to smack everyone in it because they look for fucking fake.

At any rate, it's all petty.

Coffee.

It's my No. 1 vice. Sometimes I think I'd rather give up chocolate than good coffee, and you know I am a chocolate fiend.

Even bad coffee can be enjoyable, but I go out of my way to avoid bad coffee. Starbucks may be ubiquitous but it isn't good; this is fact. I haven't had coffee *at* Peet's, but I have had their beans, and they're good, but I've had better.

Right now my "better" is Barefoot Coffee Roasters. Oh, sure, the cafe itself is a hell of a place to hang out, and the baristas are skilled and knowledgeable and always busting out with wine tasting-esque descriptions of the beans (an ability I totally covet), but the place has "Roasters" in its name for a reason. They don't sell shiny black pellets of evil, they specialize in beans purchased from farms they know and love, roasted to aromatic perfection and intended to be sold that day and brewed within the month.

For awhile I was mail ordering Blue Bottle, but it got too cumbersome (and kind of expensive). Barefoot is still super local, super good, and super convenient. (They even sell it at Whole Foods, but I prefer buying it at the cafe.)

I love that coffee has such complex flavors, that depending on the method of preparation, the grind, the temperature of the water, and the temperature changes as it sits, it can taste completely different, leaving room for error even with a perfectly roasted bean. I like this level of difficulty; it adds a sense of skill to my ritual.

My equipment: a burr grinder, #2 cone, #2 brown paper filters, electric kettle, Brita filter, large mug.
Ingredients: Good goddamn fresh coffee beans.

First I fill my mug to the brim with filtered water and pour it in the kettle. Then I measure out two and a half heaping soup spoons of whole beans and put them in the grinder. The machine is set to grind at level 3, which is fine but still gritty. I turn it on and tap it periodically to ensure all the beans go down through the whirring discs. While it's grinding, I fold the edges of a paper filter and put it in the cone and put that on top of my mug, then plug in the kettle (it won't take long to simmer). After the grinder is done, I have to tap it several more times to get all the powdery beans into their container, then take it out and dump the grounds into my filter cone. I eagerly anticipate the hissing sound of liquid water turning to steam, and when it's bubbling a little but not boiling, I unplug the kettle and inundate the grounds with hot liquid. It takes two to three pours to get all the water through, and it needs to sit for a few minutes before it's at a drinkable temperature.

But when it is, oh man. Intense. The world stops for a minute when I'm drinking a good cup of coffee. Only a minute, though, because the caffeine kicks in and it's back to work for me.

Petty things that drive me crazy #2.

There's a commercial for a local lite rock radio station featuring really hideous animations of people dancing around their office to the horrible music that populates that station's playlist. Their tagline is something to the effect of "Make your workday more enjoyable!"

And every time I see it, I think, "Sure, if by 'enjoyable' you mean 'likely to drive me to suicide.'"

Because I'm classy.

Reframing thoughts.

As some of you know, I am seeing a career coach. It's something my mom suggested after reading my last legitimately whiny blog entry and even gave me money to pay for the sessions, since that shit isn't cheap and I'm kind of broke.

You know what, though? It's totally worth it. Not only am I making my resume a kabillion times better, I'm actually figuring out what the hell I did at my last job, what I think I was good at, and how I can put that in words to effectively market myself when I do get interviews. Maybe even actually get the job, which is the whole point, really. I am also learning how to network, which is not a skill innate to me. These things all go together.

Moreover, I am changing myself from a person who just really hated her old job to someone who actually knows how to do stuff. I have more confidence, and with a little prodding, I will be able to competently express it to the ends of hearing those charming little words, "We'd like to offer you a position."

Just a little something I made for lunch.

pasta salad
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

It's warm, I'm hungry, I have a ludicrous amount of vegetables at my disposal. What do I do?

I make this pasta salad. I live on the edge.

Dressing (measures approximate):
-1 tsp. olive oil
-1 tsp. apple cider vinegar
-1 tsp. dijon mustard
-1/4 tsp. maple syrup

Salad:
-3/4 c. dry whole wheat rotini
-3 stalks swiss chard, stalks separated out, chopped into bite size pieces
-1 small head broccoli, separated into small florets
-1/3 c. frozen peas
-1 tsp. dried tarragon
-Greens from 1 large baby onion, sliced thin
-1 red radish, cut into matchsticks
-1 carrot, grated
-Pepper and almond meal, to taste

Cook the pasta in salted water (Trader Joe's brand needs only 5 minutes). Add prepared chard, broccoli, peas, and tarragon about two minutes before the pasta is done cooking. After it's done cooking, drain and run it under cold tap water for a few seconds and drain again.

Add green onion, radish, and carrot to the dressing and mix, then add pasta and vegetables. Mix to coat everything with the dressing, then add pepper and almond meal to taste.

Experiments in cooking documentation #1.

It seems like a common feature of food blogs is the illustrated recipe. Since I am but one girl with a Canon PowerShot POS, this isn't the prettiest attempt, but it seemed worth a shot given the simplicity of the recipe.

If you can call "spaghetti with spinach and garlic" a recipe. Which it isn't, really, so much as an assemblage of edible items I happened to have around when I was hungry for lunch.

First, the ingredients:
-Whole wheat spaghetti
-Olive oil
-Garlic cloves, crushed and chopped, as many as you can handle
-Red pepper flakes
-Baby spinach, loosely chopped
-Freshly grated parmesan
-Almond meal
-Black pepper to taste

Next, the how-you-do:


Remember to salt your pasta water just before it boils. Cook as much and whatever type of pasta as you feel like eating.

The next part is pretty straightforward, really.


If your spinach is wilted before your pasta is done cooking, take it off the heat until it's ready.

The next part might seem a little odd, but I swear it's a useful thing to know: adding cooking water from your pasta to whatever sauce/veggies you're serving it with helps it become... saucier. Moister. Better.


Take the water from the boiling pot after the pasta's been cooking for a few minutes. The starch and salt suspended in the water are what will help your dish come together. The amount you use is variable; I'd set aside about 1/3 cup and use as much as you need.

Now, once your pasta is done, turn the heat back on your spinach and drain the cooked pasta. Next thing you know, you'll be dumping your drained pasta into the pan with your spinach and garlic.



Now you could add your cheese and mix it all up in the pan, but that just makes the pan harder to clean. That distracts from the "lazy" aspect of this so-called recipe. Instead, you can dump the contents of your saute pan into a bowl and add your pepper, almond meal (adds protein, crunch, flavor--try it!), and cheese.

Freshest meal of the day.

almond quinoa muffin
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

I have some standard breakfasts, you know. I'm sure everyone who actually eats breakfast does (and you people who don't kind of weird me out). There's the nonfat plain yogurt with maple syrup and Trader Joe's fat-free blueberry muesli stirred in, there's toasted peanut butter and jam (a post unto itself), applesauce pancakes with any number of fillings...

But some days, you want more. Yogurt sounds cold; oatmeal sounds bland; you had PB&J for dinner last night. Some days, you want a muffin.

Yes, a beautiful muffin, fresh from the oven and striking a perfect balance between healthy and delicious. Store-bought muffins are neither healthy nor fresh, and homemade isn't actually that hard. Why not bake?

Today's recipe, almond quinoa muffins, is from Veganomicon, and it is everything you could want in a muffin. I didn't manipulate the recipe much so I won't plagiarize -- you should buy the cookbook. Really.

My only alteration was to use frozen raspberries instead of the recipe's suggested apricots or currants, because raspberries taste awesome with almonds. (It is a killer pairing in my usual pancakes, too, but again, another post.) They're more healthy than your average bran muffin, lacking in processed sugar altogether, and high in protein from the almonds and the quinoa.

And they're so damn tasty, I've eaten three.

Petty things that drive me crazy #1.

This type of construction: It costs $10 dollars.

I don't understand if it's for emphasis or because people have forgotten that "$" means "dollars," but it's just as stupid as "ATM machine" or "PIN number."

Once more, with bunnies.

bunnies eat better than you do
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

Lilly and Ollie love to (1) cuddle and (2) eat. They do not want to be bothered while eating. They do want to have tasty pieces of fennel bulb or parsley springs fed directly to them. They do want to torture me with their adoreableness.

I (heart) strawberries.

first strawberries of 2008
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

I never buy strawberries anymore -- I wait for the ones from my farm share. And it's always worth the wait.

Come June/July, it'll be even better. Last year we made it to the farm's annual summer solstice party and ate berries straight out of the patch. Sun-warmed, perfectly sweet strawberries, perched atop a hill with a view of other farms and, in the distance, the foggy California coastline -- it's enough to make you believe in a higher power.

How to use up half your CSA veggies without trying.

rainbow slaw
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

I pride myself on my ability to make up halfway decent food using whatever I have around. This is an especially important skill during our CSA season.

I made this rainbow slaw:

-Green tops of one young onion*
-Chantenay carrot, sliced into matchsticks*
-Red radishes, sliced into matchsticks*
-Purple cabbage, shredded*
-Juice from one meyer lemon
-Apple cider vinegar, salt, and pepper to taste

Just mix and let sit for a little bit.

The slaw was meant to go with this soup:

-Young onion, everything but the green tops, sliced thinly*
-Green garlic, sliced thinly*
-Spices: dried oregano, ground coriander, cumin, red pepper flakes or spicy ground cayenne
-Can of black beans, drained and rinsed
-1/2 c. organic sweet corn
-Some canned fire-roasted diced tomatoes, drained
-A little vegetable bouillon and water
-Red kale, stemmed and loosely chopped*
-Broccoli, stems and florets, chopped into bite-size pieces*
-Salt and pepper to taste

This is pretty basic. Saute the onion and garlic in a little oil, add spices and season a bit, add the canned/frozen ingredients and stir, pour in broth, bring to a boil. Check seasoning, then add the kale and broccoli and cook until tender. Then it should be ready to serve with long-grain brown rice or, perhaps, tortilla chips (homemade baked ones would be a nice alternative) and the rainbow slaw on top.

Check LocalHarvest.org for CSA farms near you if you want to improvise your own meals and eat with the seasons.

* indicates something from our share.

I have a computer in my room!

And it's even talking to the internet and not crashing!

It's Kevin's old laptop and it's living on an old slab of particleboard resting on a keyboard stand he's not using. I got it a mouse because I hate using the touch pad. Really, I hate using the laptop keyboard, but it's more awkward to set things up with a separate keyboard and screen and... well, whatever. I have a mouse attached to a laptop that's running Ubuntu.

I can watch my TV and attempt to be productive at the same time. Amazing.

There's this thing I'm doing right now where I'm paying a guy to help me learn how to figure out what I want in life and how to speak and write so as to properly convey that, as well as what else I might do to bring that about in case I currently lack the necessary skills. Thanks to his already helpful input, I am working on revamping my resume, putting together the building blocks of answers to those seemingly innocuous interview questions I currently answer with too much hemming and hawing, and making a list of people I want to talk to -- once I learn how to have conversations the right way, of course.

Another project I've got in mind is to start food blogging a lot more in this space. It will involve photos, especially now that it's easy for me to, say, attach my camera to the computer I'm using without hitting my head on a desk wedged against a wall and surrounded by crap. My bedroom is practically neat and organized! It's easy to find USB on a laptop!

Yet another project is that I think I'll work on a digital media/graphic design for the web certificate, starting this summer. Community colleges are affordable; who knew?

Okay, everyone.

More later, if I can stand the infectious joy that comes with being able to switch my gaze quickly between two screens.

Stuck.

I am not a competitive person. I hate it, in fact. I just want to be good and helpful and work with a team and be useful in any capacity and feel good about myself for doing it. I want to do that in a place that doesn't make me want to shoot myself.

Apparently these jobs, which do exist, are unavailable to me due to the teeming horde of people more qualified than me. I think I don't interview all that well, and basically everything that's happened for me, job-wise, was a stroke of fucking luck. My college job I got without so much as an interview. My last job that ultimately drove me to Prozac? No one else actually made it in for an interview and I was good enough.

How the fuck is someone supposed to get more qualified than the other assholes without actually getting a job that allows you to develop said qualifications? The things that I lack aren't skills I can pick up with a class from the UCSC Extension or anything (well, for the most part). I have the basic stuff down, it's just that someone else always has it down better, plus some. I KNOW I am a good worker. I KNOW I have the capacity to pick stuff up and do a good job. I also know I have a mouth and an inability to sell myself, because god knows just saying, "I can do that!" isn't going to prove anything.

All I know is that eventually I'm going to be so fucking broke that I will have to find it within myself to somehow nab one of these jobs I totally don't want that will get me absolutely zero experience in anything resembling a field I'm interested in, and the cycle of depression will spiral up again and I'll be a super fun person to be around.

I've always been okay with not being the best at things. But it kills me that even though I'm good, I'm clearly never good ENOUGH unless I'm the only one available. I want to prove myself, but it doesn't have to be because I'm the best.

Oh, plus, the paranoid side of me starts thinking that little $cieno imps know I think they're creepy and/or everyone else knows about my former employer and that taints me. Even if it is extremely unlikely, I fear it.

I don't know. Clearly I am "competitive" enough as a candidate to get an interview or two, but if someone else has a superior resume, why the fuck are they bothering to talk to me, to tell me they'll decide "within a few days," but I have to wait a week for the inevitable email of doom (like college applications with the small envelopes, emails from potential employers spell failure). In an interview, you're supposed to dress up, which I can do (kinda), but I think my behavior is in many ways worse than it would normally be because I'm not as comfortable or confident as I get to be in a real working situation. I'm worried they won't like me, and allow myself to be surprised when they don't.

One thing I know I'm overqualified to do is sit on my ass all day. In some ways I'm happier than I've been in a long time, but the lack of productivity, the frustration of my situation, and dwindling bank account are wearing on me.

There comes a special time in a girl's life...

...when she knows three people having babies in the same week. Yes, friends, I hereby declare 2008 the Year of the Baby.

Fortunately for me, none of them are mine. I am sure the other people are quite happy to have them, though. Me, I'm content with my bunnies and my quiet-a-holic boyfriend who thinks *I* talk too loud. Wait'll you live with a baby, baby. I haven't (recently), but I'm familiar enough with the concept to know it isn't in the immediate future for yours truly.

I am feeling the urge to go into more graphic detail about the icky things about babies that I am happy not to be partaking in at present, but I'll suppress it. It's impolite. I am happy for the people who are happy to have happy babies, though, really!

Anyway, on to things I AM happy about, besides other peoples' happiness.

My dear friend Christine paid me a visit early this week, her first time seeing me in California. It was a hit-and-run, one night affair, but it was fantastic to see her for more than a few hours while I'm trying to see everyone I know in Seattle for the one day I'm in town. We did the farmers' market (natch), baked muffins (*insert Homer-style drool here*), and drove up to SF with Kevin for a nice tour of all the parking spots that were taken within a reasonable proximity of the Exploratorium, our original destination. Instead, we nabbed a spot at the park on the SF side of the Golden Gate Bridge and walked over to the Marin county line. It was a beautiful (and popular) day for the stroll, and I learned that both Kevin and Christine are afraid of heights. Hah! How did I not already know that about either of them?

Afterwards, we were parched, hungry, and desperate not to spend another 45 minutes trying to find parking near a decent restaurant, so we headed back to Silicon Valley and ate at Chaat Paradise (Christine had never had chaat and as far as I know you can't find much of it in Seattle). Then we rented our dorm favorite, Galaxy Quest, and Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan because we'd never seen it and it seemed like a good pairing. Christine was bored of Khan pretty quickly, so we put on the other. My poor, sleepy friend, wracked by a combination of regularly working the morning shift at Peet's and getting on a flight at the asscrack of dawn on Daylight Savings Sunday, fell asleep around 9:30.

The next morning, we opted to take a walk on the Los Gatos Creek Trail that has an entrance a few blocks from my house, then baked pizza for lunch (one sauceless fakin' bacon-asparagus-Roquefort; one marinara-spinach-cremini mushroom-goat cheese) and played co-op NYT Crosswords on the Nintendo DS. YEAH. We also went down to the Camera 7 and saw Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, which was fine. The movie was chosen because Christine's general Tomatometer threshold is a high splat/low tomato, whereas mine is at least a tomato. It was a decent compromise on that front; neither of us hated nor loved it.

It brings up an idea I have, though, which is that it would be interesting to run some kind of statistics on a person's movie ratings (say, on Netflix's 5-star scale) versus Rotten Tomato scores. That way you might be able to see how well, and possibly in what ways, your taste in movies matches up with the general critical views.

Anyway, we hung out at Barefoot for awhile, which I never really do despite going there once or twice a month to buy my coffee beans, doing more crosswords on the DS and eavesdropping on the smoking highschoolers bitching at the table next door, then met Kevin for dinner at Mudai before I dropped her at the airport.

I have been trying to use Zyrtec to control my allergies since my prescriptions ran out, but apparently I can only take it every other day or less because that shit is what I'm blaming for my inability to stay awake on Tuesday. THAT WAS A LONG FUCKING SENTENCE.

Wednesday I saw a movie with Steve! We saw The Bank Job! It was an entertaining, fun movie! There were many boobies on display in parts! I recommend it if it looks like the kind of movie you would like!

Thursday I attempted to write stuff but I was distracted. I don't know that I am cut out for working from home. I like my TV and my bed too much. Maybe I just need a laptop or I need my COMPUTER AND TV IN THE SAME ROOM AGAIN. Wonder which of those has an easier solution? Also, I took the VTA downtown and went to a double feature at the Camera 12: Be Kind Rewind and Charlie Bartlett. The former was entertaining enough, and the latter was also decent. I enjoyed them unambiguously, but I don't have many substantive thoughts about them.

"Now I will play you another song about people who hate everybody." P.S. I am still obsessing over the Mountain Goats. Check out the recording of the last show I saw, if you're so inclined. And, yes, "The Sign" IS an Ace of Base cover, and no, it's not ironic.

Quick note.

Just to say that I've gone off my psychiatric meds (having no schedule to speak of sort of fucks with the flow of dosing), and I feel absolutely fine. So I think it's fair to say that the Scientologists drove me to use Prozac, and that's funny.

When the scum begins to circle the drain.

I have to say, the road from happy to have nothing going on to despair that I'll never work again is a short one.

Timeline of the last week plus (spoiler alert, there is no happy ending):

Had a phone interview the Friday before last for a job that sounded very matchy-matchy with my skills and goals. Was told I'd hear late the following week at the earliest if I got a face-to-face interview. Made plans to fly up to Portland and visit my mom, et al., courtesy mom's Southwest Airlines reward points.

Spent the weekend enjoying a storm down at Point Lobos, south of Carmel. Packed and tried to contact some friends to make plans to visit them up north.

Monday morning, I received a call asking me to come in for an interview the next day, and that they wanted to hire someone by the end of the week. Had to cancel my plans to catch a plane that was taking off in a few hours.

Tuesday I got all dressed up nice to meet some people at an office. I thought I did a halfway decent job chatting with them, but one can never tell. Of course I'm prone to obsessing over what I said wrong, what I should have said differently, how many times I had an awkward pause or a poor explanation, etc. Things were left open, as they are with the interview business.

Wednesday I had lunch with some of my friends from my old job, and also sat around and waited. Thursday I had lunch with Steve and his food editor at a Cuban place in Japantown, followed by more sitting around and waiting. Friday I was annoyed because Kevin told me he didn't feel like going to the Mountain Goats show that night, but Jenn called me in the afternoon (interrupting my busy schedule of sitting around) and was upset that Kevin didn't want to go, so asked me for his phone number and proceeded to call and convince him herself. Very impressive.

Friday night we all met up at Mudai and ate delicious Ethiopian food, then drove to North Beach and saw one band with insanely bad lyrics, one with awesome lyrics/music/comics (Jeffrey Lewis and the Jitters!), and the one band we actually came to see. They have a new album out, Heretic Pride, and luckily Steve burned me a copy a few weeks ago so I knew all the awesome new songs. (Don't worry, I bought a legit copy at the show.) It was tons of fun and the band was at least as good as it always is, if not better.

Saturday I was somewhat productive in terms of doing dishes and cleaning out the fridge. I also had to harass Kevin into giving me a ride to Mudai, where my car was parked all night since we carpooled to the city. We grabbed a late lunch at Happy Bamboo, which we hadn't been to in way too long. She's changed the menu a bit, so we both opted to try some new dishes--him the veggie chicken enchiladas (looked and smelled lovely); me the gourmet seaweed salad (similar to the Au-Lac veggie chicken salad mixed with Japanese-style seaweed salad and bean sprouts and served with two big puffy rice crackers--SUPER good). Afterwards Kevin dropped me off at Steve and Jenn's house so Steve and I could head up for Round 2 of the Great Goatsing Weekend.

Parking in the Independent's neighborhood is a bitch, but we found a spot, grabbed a bite at Herbivore (many veg places attempt bad falafel; not enough do a nice seitan schwarma like these guys do), and headed into the club to snatch up a spot up front and directly under John Darnielle's mic. The show was packed and by the time our band went on, I had at most two inches of personal space left between the obsessive fan who knew every lyric, the Noisepop chick rudely butting in with a video camera to capture the drums and get snooty about JD being unhappy about having a camera in his face, and the girlfriend of another devoted fan. We sat through three openers who were varying degrees of mediocre, then enjoyed another rock and fucking roll set.

One of the new songs has a lyric about spending all day in bed, and I swear to god that JD pointed down at me and made a crazy face right as he sang it. It freaked me out a little bit, like, "OMG, HOW DID YOU KNOW?!"

Yes, my brain is silly. I'm sure I'll remember it fondly, probably even more fondly than the time I got hit in the face by Ben Gibbard's guitar cable at a Death Cab for Cutie show.

The show ran very late and we didn't get home until well after 2. That didn't stop my body from thinking it still had to get up at 7:30, of course, so I showered and went to the farmers' market for the usual assortment of bunny and people food. Having offered to drive to the Round 3 show, a matinee with doors at noon, I gassed up the car and picked up Steve around noon. We went directly into the show, realized there were no in-and-out privileges, and got some quesadillas for lunch. We managed to nab a pair of barstools with a direct stage view and parked our asses there for the entire show. Well, except for the Mountain Goats' set, during which Steve parked his on the ledge above the stool. He claimed the view was worth the discomfort.

The three openers that day were all pretty decent and received little of our scorn. The Goats were in great form once again, even being coaxed into doing a third encore of a John-only "The Sign" cover--with stories!--AND "The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton," which is a fan favorite they'd previously burned out on but decided we deserved it. The whole thing was fantastic, and afterwards we bought T-shirts and shook Peter Hughes' hand and told him we'd met going to a Mountain Goats show and now always see them together, so thanks for helping us find friends.

All the show tickets were a gift to me from Steve and they were one of the best gifts ever. After a frustrating week crashing down to the reality of the job hunt, I needed this injection of joy.

And today, late in the afternoon, I got an email telling me I didn't get that job, after all. I guess I knew it all along, but I let myself get my hopes up, and it was crushing.

Signs the universe wants me to stay in bed today.

Sign 1: Firefly marathon on Sci-Fi.
Sign 2: No Reservations marathon on the Travel Channel.

Good effing lord.

I was totally going to do something productive today, but fuck it. Most days my only excuse to stay in bed is sheer laziness.

A cooking binge.

Some people go on drinking binges; others on eating binges. I sometimes go on cooking binges. I eat some of the fruits of my labor, but pretty much spend a few hours cooking up a storm.

Last night I cobbled together some vegetable soup and broccoli polenta cakes because I wasn't feeling too well and I had a bunch of vegetables to use up. It turned out rather tasty for something random (well, the polenta was a half batch of a simple recipe from Veganomicon). The soup contained one diced onion, several cloves of minced garlic, two sweet Italian red peppers, a handful of diced baby carrots, dried oregano, half-sharp paprika, short grain brown rice, a can of kidney beans, a bagful of baby spinach, and a bay leaf for good measure. The polenta is just polenta cooked with finely chopped fresh broccoli, spooned into a muffin tin, chilled, then stuck under the broiler to brown a bit. I put it in the middle of my bowl and scooped up bits of the cake with my spoon as I ate my soup.

Today I have been going a tad overboard. I had a giant bag of cremini mushrooms that were meant to go into a variety of recipes that I never bothered to make this week, so I thought I'd saute them up and put them in savory chickpea crepes. Because the crepe batter has to be chilled for at least an hour, I ended up baking two kinds of muffins just to use up a carton of soy yogurt I had (and also, I fucking love muffins)--chocolate macadamia with a gentle dusting of coconut and cornmeal blueberry with meyer lemon zest. These both turned out heavenly.

Still waiting for my batter to chill, I started in on the time-consuming task of slicing my creminis and ended up with about six cups of the damn things. Kevin thought I was insane and wanted to know why it was taking me three hours to make lunch. I told him to eat leftovers.

But we cannot live on mushrooms and crepes alone, of course. Oh, no. So I thought, hey, I can do the mushrooms with kala jeera (black cumin seeds) and red onion, then make some palak tofu (spinach and tofu curry--using tofu instead of panir cheese for the vegan's sake) to round it out! Totally reasonable. So now there's a pan full of bright green and spicy spinach with tofu cubes, a pan full of sauteed creminis, and a bowl of crepe batter just waiting for me to ruin too many and give up and make rice instead.

To-do lists.

My actual to-do list is somewhat different from my inclination's to-do list:

Actual

• Do sinkful of dishes like a good little temporary housewife
  
• Work on cover letters and related job application-y things
  
• Get a few odds and ends at Whole Foods
  
• Go to the damn gym
  
• Prepare something delicious for dinner -- or at least edible and vegan
  
• Go see 4 Months...
  
• Research upcoming movies I'd like to write about for a freelance project
  
• Clean the rabbits' area
  
• Laundry
  
• Write an email to a friend

Inclination

• Watch the following stupid TV shows: Crossing Jordan, ER, What Not To Wear, CSI: Miami (I hate Horatio), X-Files (later seasons), Gilmore Girls (have seen every episode at least three times by now)
  
• Eat something leftover and possibly involving pasta during commercial breaks
  
• Consider taking a shower
  
• Decide TV is really lame just in time for the 1:25 showing of 4 Months...
  
• Cook something with mushrooms and broccoli and spinach and red peppers, because that shit is going to go bad
  
• Realize this will require doing at least *some* dishes
  
• Read Project Runway blogs until bored of extreme cattiness from people who hate Christian
  
• Feed rabbits dinner when they remind me that it's late by swarming around the food plates with hopeful looks in their adorable little eyes
  
• Fall asleep before The Daily Show comes on, again, dammit

So as you can see, I have a busy day planned.

Success of the dork!

For the first time EVER, I, your fearless (besides zombies) movie-watching hero, have actually sat through ALL FIVE feature-length films nominated for the Oscar Best Picture.

ALL FIVE. WOO!

Why this excites me I'll never know. It's less a badge of honor and more a badge of dorkiness.

And having ACTUALLY SEEN all five, I feel I am sufficiently well-informed to express opinions on who ought to win, or who ought not to win. I am using many words for the sake of using them right now, by the way. No one is reading this for reals, right?

Here is, in ranked order, my preferences:

1. No Country for Old Men
   
2. There Will Be Blood
   
3. Atonement
   
4. Michael Clayton
   
5. Juno

That's right, Juno is at the bottom of this list. It tried and failed to be clever. It tried much too hard and too obviously, and while it was good enough for Sunday afternoon entertainment (god only knows I would've been watching some shitty Flavor of Rock of Tequila Love marathon otherwise), it lacks the qualities of a Best Picture.

Michael Clayton was decent, but a nonentity.

Atonement was beautiful, and actually I'd recommend seeing it in the theater if you're into that sort of period drama, and if it wins I won't hate on it. It felt like what it was: a book on film. The sets and costumes and makeup and cinematography were stunning. But it didn't make me cry or my heart swell or leaving me thinking, "Wow." No, friends, that honor is left to the #2 and #1 films.

Happily, if There Will Be Blood wins, I'll be pleased, assuming I am still awake by the end of the ceremony (go Jon Stewart!). It was pretty fucking great. But so was No Country for Old Men, and I give the Coens just a bit of an edge, because that movie made me forgive them for making shitty movies for the past few years when they are capable of attaining greatness. And while I would never suggest, say, my mom see these movies (violence is her least favorite thing, proclivity for crime procedurals aside), they have stuck with me in a very good way. Loved these movies. Really.

Thus ends an entry no one besides me gives half a shit about, and it's all thanks to the auto-save on Blogger. My X server (Linux windows) keeps crashing and I thought I'd lost the whole damn thing.

So much for daily blogging!

Two days in a row, then... big shocker.

Something is clearly amiss in the universe. It's 8:45 and Kevin is already up and showered. And I don't feel like watching TV.

Yesterday the "last days of Mark Greene" episode of ER was on. It made me bawl like a baby. I am a dork. A dork who spent half her Monday morning cleaning out the burr coffee grinder, which decided to stop working due to the massive amounts of old coffee grounds crammed inside its mechanisms. Fortunately, I was able to remedy the situation and get my coffee on (specifically, a Barefoot Ethiopian Harrar roasted last Friday, yum).

I am trying to catch up on movies. My intention for this week is to finish seeing all the Oscar Best Picture nominees. Having already seen Juno (overrated), There Will Be Blood, and No Country for Old Men (between those, it's a toss-up of which is most awesome), I saw Michael Clayton yesterday (good, but a bit of a yawn) and intend to see Atonement today or Thursday. I also want to see 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days. These are all playing at the Camera 7, and between me, my handy Discount Cards, a sunny afternoon, and a lack of anything else to do, I am certain to achieve my goal.

Oh, hell, I'd rather watch doggy poo.

For serious, it's a movie. An animated Korean movie about a living piece of dog shit that ponders the meaning of life, or something. And you can watch it ***instantly*** on Netflix. Oh, if only my computer ran Windows instead of Linux.

Today's episode of ER dealt with Dr. Greene deciding to quit chemo and quit working. It was a huge fucking bummer. Maybe the reason I can't stop watching it is that it reminds me of when my own dad was dying of cancer. I teared up. It was bad. I had to polish off my stash of (homemade, vegan, whole grain, low sugar!) chocolate chocolate chip cookies after that.

My fluffy, floppy-eared little friend Lilly is amusing me with her adventures. They're simple adventures, like out to the living room and hopping up to the first step of our shoe bench, but they're adorable. Any rabbit adventure is an adorable adventure. I think it says so in the House Rabbit Handbook. Lilly and Ollie taking a nap together is adorable. Ollie cleaning his butt is adorable. Ollie is cutest head-on, while Lilly is best in profile. The bunnies hate me, but I don't care. They like the food I bring them and sometimes they let me pet them for a minute.

Is anyone still watching Project Runway? Sometimes I think I'm the only one of people I actually know. Anyway, Crying Ricky finally got auf'd! I cheered so loud that Ollie ran under the bed to take cover.

By the way, anyone want to take a poll? How about several hundred? My good friends down at the ol' ex-employer have got you covered in the inane polls department. Hey, everyone needs a paycheck.

Even me. Soon. Someone please give me a job? I will TOTALLY work hard and stuff.

Unemployment, day 3

I decided it might be "fun" to attempt to chronicle my vast wanderings through cyberspace, seeking gainful employment. Thus far it's consisted of hitting "refresh" on Craigslist's SF Bay Area writing/editing jobs page and harassing former coworkers on LinkedIn. Most of my days have been sucked up by that glowing siren, television. Oh, daytime TV, such a wasteland of repeats and syndication. I have yet to succumb to Oprah, but my god, did you know that there's two straight hours of ER on every morning? I don't even like ER, but it's on the episodes where Dr. Greene finds out he has brain cancer again and hey, look, the abused wife is now totally the sexy bitch on Mad Men!

I quit my job to pursue what I actually wanted to do. So far, that includes doing the dishes, cooking, grocery shopping, staying in bed all day, checking my email, and watching an obscene amount of stupid TV. Can't say it's a total lie, but it doesn't pay the bills. And I do love other things, too! Like, uh, being right and knowing stuff and helping people (see that I was right about the stuff I said I knew)!

This has been kind of fun! Maybe I'll do it again tomorrow.

Today I...

* Tendered my resignation at work.
* Sent annoying emails to people I hope maybe to work for.
* Did not exchange glances or words with anyone ranked higher than my boss.
* Was left out of a big meeting.
* Ate a really unhealthy but incredibly delicious burrito.
* Felt anxious.
* Text messaged my friend.
* Found a little hope in some prospects for both full time and freelance work.
* Had a "retirement" dinner at Amber India thanks to my friend, who is almost as glad as I am that I will soon no longer work where I currently work.
* Fell and twisted my ankle again, but I can still walk on it fine.
* Called and babbled at Kevin. Twice.
* Bothered the rabbits, who apparently don't like red leaf lettuce. They ONLY like romaine, I guess.
* Had a Pony Up! song stuck in my head all day.
* Wondered what the fuck I'm going to do next.

Not pictured.

gigantinormous!
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

Sometimes I just didn't feel like fishing the camera out of my bag. Obviously the Eiffel Tower temporarily cured me of that, but still. There's a few points missing from my travels.

• Pretty much all the food I ate, some of which was, of course, bordering on spectacular. (It was Paris, after all.)
  
• The museums. I didn't make it to the Louvre, but I didn't take anything at the Orsay or the Pompidou (and yes, pictures without flash are allowed). Or the Erotic Museum in Pigalle, or the Dali in Montmartre.
  
• Most of the walking, oh, the endless walking. Or my sad, pathetic boot insoles that were worn paper thin at the balls of my feet. Ouch.

Seriously, Paris is full of beautiful, iconic stuff that you've probably seen before and I couldn't capture it well enough on film to make it worth posting.

Bonjour from Paris!

It's our last day here, and it's New Year's Eve. I'll write more later about it, but you can take a look at my Flickr for a few pics that weren't totally awful (as well as a handful of shots that were on my camera from Thanksgiving, bunnies, etc. that I never bothered to upload).

Mine and mom's are here.

Four birthday cakes.

That's what I made this year: four recipes of cakes for birthdays, including my own. I am not calculating how many calories or how much fat that is, but I did use whole wheat flour and everything was vegan, so damn, it was practically HEALTHY, right? Plus I am addicted to Vegan with a Vengeance/Veganomicon, so that's what all these came from.

Apple spice cupcakes -- Sunday with Kevin, his mom, and her boyfriend
The panuche on top was a bit overpoweringly sweet, but the cupcakes themselves were lovely. I'd describe them as fluffy apple muffins. Mmmm.

Blueberry coffee cake and jelly donut cupcakes -- Tuesday at work
Easy and a big hit at the office. I brought my own desserts to negate HR's desire to buy something gross and overly sweet and force everyone to sing the birthday song. I hate the birthday song, except when it's (a) a comedic version or (b) off-key and coming out of my adorable boyfriend while he's still in bed, his head peeking out from under the covers. The jelly donut cupcakes were not quite as good as I'd hoped, but the blueberry coffee cake I made on a lark (thinking 12 cupcakes wasn't enough for my office of piggies) was pretty awesome.

Chocolate raspberry layer cake with "ganache-y" icing -- Sunday with Kevin's dad's family
We haven't left yet so this is sitting on my counter, wrapped in plastic, looking like something I would have paid $20 to buy at Whole Foods but that I actually made my fuckin' self and I think it's going to be a winner. Amazing.

I didn't make any cookies this month, or even pies, but I feel my cake-baking has been successful. I am now ready to go and let the professionals in France bake everything for me and show me how fat and happy I can really be.

Happy birthday to me! And my mom!

And Kevin! And all the other December birthdays I know (and there are PLENTY).

I still haven't written about Thanksgiving. Bad me. But it was delightful, I promise.

But I will talk about my birthday.

My friends Steve and Jenn conspired with Kevin to surprise me (in the sense that I wouldn't know what we'd be doing, not that I didn't know anything was happening) with a fun birthday activity.

We left around 7. Kevin had the directions all written out and didn't say a word, just silently drove up 280. We got off at the exit I know to be Palo Alto and headed towards the part of town where Homma's Brown Rice Sushi is. Excellent! After a filling meal, we got back in the car and headed north on 101. Definitely not staying in Palo Alto, as I might have thought -- what, it could've been something at the Stanford Theatre, perhaps -- but rather all the way up to the city, then off at 9th and Civic Center... hmm... this is the exit for Slim's. But no outward appearances gave away the event itself, not even the signage at Slim's. We were inside before Steve told me: we are seeing Shonen Knife!

Now, Shonen Knife is a band I am only a little familiar with and never would have thought to go see, but that has totally changed. This show was fucking awesome, people. That was some solid rocking out we did. So the birthday surprise evening was a success. Even Kevin had fun, which was practically the icing on the cake for me.

Anyway, it's time to get ready for work. Paris plans are coming together (I'll be posting pics to Flickr, of course) and this ridiculous year is wrapping up, finally.

We are slobs and we must be reformed.

It's Saturday morning. Monday night my mom is flying to town. Thursday we're having several guests over to cook and eat our strange, vegetarian, Japanese Thanksgiving feast.

In its present state, no one will be able to sit down to eat anywhere in my house. There is enough room for maybe one person to cook anything. And there is crap absolutely everywhere.

Yes, we're working on it. I am making slow but steady progress de-crapping the kitchen. Kevin cleared off the couch last night and finished loading the dishwasher, which is now running. (Of course, that was after I said I'd be pissed if he stayed up until 3 playing Super Mario Galaxy and failed to make any movement in the cleaning arena.) I have at least two loads of laundry ready to go. I scrubbed the public areas of the bathroom (i.e., everything but the shower), cleaned out the rabbits' litter boxes, and picked up my room -- enough so it's at least presentable for people to go meet the bunnies. I bought more laundry detergent, paper towels, and a mop.

Kevin thinks we'll get it done. I think he better wake up before 1 or "we" will end up being "I" and "I" will be bitchy.

In addition to cleaning the shit out of my house, I also need to get veggies at the farmers' market (awww, what a horrible chore!) and bake cookies for the ice cream sandwiches we'll have on Thanksgiving (crispy almond with green tea ice cream and peanut-ginger-sesame with pumpkin ice cream).

Wish me luck -- I need it. I'll post photos and a menu after the fact.

Yo quiero Yo La Tengo.

I'm sure that one's never been done before.

Quickly: I want a button on the side of my head that I can push and fill my mind with the sounds of the Freewheelin' Yo La Tengo, because that shit was so awesomely relaxing and soothing and beautiful. I need that sometimes -- a lot of times, actually.

Blogger is a slug. I want to go see Jonathan Richman for my birthday (but before my actual birthday).

Oh hell yes!

Went to see Ted Leo + Pharmacists (with Quasi opening) last night in the city. For me, it was sort of a benchmarking experience to see how far I'd come since first recognizing my depression issues earlier this year. I'd gone to see the same band in March and despite thinking the show was really good, I never really enjoyed myself, and it ate at me. Last night was a complete turnaround.

Also, we ate at Mekong, which is a Thai restaurant that everyone in SF probably already knows about, but it was new to us. It was love at first bite. The usual hallmarks of what makes me dig a Thai place were there -- brown rice, good spiciness, lots of veggie options (fake meat!) -- but it was possibly the least oily restaurant Thai I've ever had AND the flavors were amazing. The tea was good, too -- whole, loose leaf green tea with lotus blossoms in it or something; really nice. Absolutely no minuses (the prices even seemed reasonable) and it was a block from the concert venue. Win.

Christmas time isn't here.

But when it is, I'll be in Paris.

Deep breath.

The last couple months, in bullet form:

• Working out the kinks in my anti-depressant dosing. 40 mg prozac seems to be about right. Joy.
  
• Decided maybe going to the gym wasn't as bad as I always felt it was. Maybe was sort of right. Coughed up $$$ to join stupid 24 Hour Fitness because it was cheap and there. Have been exercising between four times a week and once a week every week since.
  
• Besides that, I can't say I remember August in the slightest.
  
• Oh, yeah, I bought myself unnecessary but entertaining personal electronics: a Nintendo DS and an iAudio 7. That is how I spent August.
  
• My friends Steve and Jenn got married in what was an amazingly fun wedding down in Santa Cruz. Please note that this is a 45 minute drive from my house, not a $200 plane fare. Also, there was a bachelor party at which Kevin dressed up like a girl. I think I promised not to put those photos online.
  
• Spent the next two weeks catsitting for said newlyweds. Their male cat who hates everyone but them eventually betrayed his lunatic exterior and let me give him love a few times.
  
• Went to see Devendra Banhart one week and The New Pornographers the next, in shows I enjoyed immensely but after which Kevin announced that he no longer wished to go to concerts.
  
• Flew to Portland for a relaxing weekend with the nieces. Mom and I took the oldest, who just turned 7, to the zoo and we all watched The Wizard of Oz and ate spaghetti.
  
• Went to therapy and felt somewhat empowered to not just accept my lot in life. Thusly, I adopted the rabbits. There were a few other mental twists and turns before that point, but it's the most fun end result.

Their reign of terror has begun.

friends with salad
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

More photos at Flickr.

Wascally...

Yesterday I adopted these rabbits.

More postings to come.

And a good week was had by all.

First of all, I am sorry I didn't call everyone in Seattle. Wait, scratch that, I'm not really sorry, because I had a good time with the people I did see, and any more may have done me in.

Which is to say, I just got home from a week-long road trip to the Pacific Northwest with Kevin and his dad. We made it to Seaside just before sunset last Saturday. The next day, my mom and I headed to Olympia to visit Becky and her mom while Kevin and his dad took a scenic, coastal route up to Seattle to visit Kevin's sister and her baby daughter.

My mom and I got into Olympia mid-afternoon and headed straight to Becky's mom's house. We spent a comfortable evening and morning in their company (and that of the nice big dog and Becky's cat), eating spaghetti for dinner and looking at photos from Europe. Becky's mom had some shots from Paris that were hilarious (such as the B.M. Pressing sign). Becky also gave me a Mayan abdominal massage, which was really interesting, informative, and good. I would definitely seek this out in the future.

In the morning, we got coffee, thrifted at Value Village, got lunch and more coffee, then headed to North Bend to visit my aunt, her son, and his wife at their new “family compound.” We helped out with some unpacking and grocery shopping for them and enjoyed the tranquil surroundings. Their backyards look out onto grassy acreage, trees, and Mount Si. You can barely see any neighbors. It's completely ridiculous.

The next afternoon, my mom took me into Seattle to spend time with Kevin and his family. I was looking forward to meeting his 7-month-old niece, Zoe, and I'm glad I did: she has the most piercing blue eyes, a beautiful smile, and is a completely adorable baby. I am not really into babies, but I liked Zoe instantly. Kevin was happy to see me and I ended up staying over at their house.

I also heard from the few Seattle friends I had bothered to try to contact, so I got to see people on the 4th of July. First I walked around Green Lake with Christine. In jeans. In 85 degree heat. Smart! Then I walked another mile to Chris's house and met his new girlfriend and had lunch at Chile Pepper in Wallingford, which I always passed by and somehow never tried. I missed out: the cheese enchilada with mole sauce was delightful. Kevin met up with us and talked to Chris and Sara for awhile before joining me at the low-key (but completely jammin', by which I mean they were drunk-ish and making raspberry jam) holiday get-together at Lauren's house, co-hosted by Josie. Lauren finally made good on her threats to raise chickens (three non-roosters per household being allowed within city limits), one of which she named Jonathan Franz-hen after the owner of her house. Kevin had to leave suddenly when my mom, who was in the neighborhood to find some grub and pick me up, noticed a cop and some tow trucks near what she soon realized was Kevin's car and called me to make sure it didn't get towed away. (The no parking signs were put up after we checked, for the record.)

Mom wanted to get out of town before the post-fireworks traffic frenzy, so we did just that. We headed back to Olympia, thinking about maybe seeing a movie, but the times weren't right, so we drove by an old friend's house and stopped in to say hello. It was a nice visit with someone I haven't seen in a long time, someone I looked up to when I was in high school. Then we crashed at Becky's mom's house again, so I got to hang out with Becky some more and talk to her mom in the morning.

Thursday afternoon we drove to Portland and picked up my 6-year-old niece, Kahnya, and took her to see Ratatouille. I enjoyed the movie, and though I think a lot of it went over her head, she enjoyed enough of it that she wanted to help us cook dinner afterwards. After dinner, I took her and her little sister to the neighborhood park. In the morning, we read books in the backyard and waited for Kevin and his dad to appear. Yes, I have been dating the same guy for almost five years and this was the first time he met my Cambodian family. They warmed to him after awhile, once he crawled inside the playhouse with them and let them lay cards on his legs and arms (a strange game I cannot really explain).

I said goodbye to my brother and his wife and kids, as well as my mom, and headed south with Kevin and his dad. We grabbed lunch at a Whole Foods just south of Portland, then stopped only once to pee before making it to Mr. Shasta for the night. Kevin drove like a man on a mission: a mission to get home with one day of weekend left to spare. Kevin's dad loves Mt. Shasta and already knew where he wanted to eat and stay. We took it easy in the morning, taking time to check out the 4th of July street fair on the main drag before driving five hours straight home, stopping for lunch/dinner at Habibi in Fremont. I was so hungry I damn near licked my plate clean, and had dessert, too, but in my defense, it was pretty much the only meal I had yesterday.

Once home, Kevin helped me set up my new bed frame, which is pretty and gets me up off the floor a little more than I anticipated. It's very comfortable. This morning I made it back to my farmers' market and found plenty of goodies to get me through the next few days before we get our CSA share again. By the way, does anyone know what to do with fresh black-eyed peas?

Oh, we're terrific.

Today was the appointed day. The day of reckoning. The day...of cleaning.

I have a blister on my right index fingertip from all the scrubbing. The folding table has been put back in the garage and the kitchen is no longer being used as a giant storage receptacle. Work surfaces have been scrubbed. Recycling has been brought out to the bin in droves. Floors were swept; rugs were vacuumed. And still, there is work yet to be done.

The kitchen is largely done, I think, but the living room has a bunch of Kevin's crap (and no doubt a little of mine) that needs to be dealt with. The room I'm in now (dubbed "The Other Room") is in extreme need of organization and purposing--my desk, project workspace for Kevin, sitting area, futon, storage. The futon needs its frame, which needs my new bed frame to be stained and assembled before it can stop moonlighting as a platform bed, and there's still a TV and PS2 in here, not hooked up to anything. And one of those large exercise balls (meant to be) used to do pilates and the like.

I ate a veggie chicken burger at Happy Bamboo today that was delightful. Pretty much all the food I put in my mouth today was heavenly, actually, save maybe the neglected, lukewarm coffee and the muggy room temp water. I made almond-cinnamon pancakes with strawberries for breakfast, and at lunch we had summer rolls and veggie drumsticks (quite possibly HB's best dish; the only thing we order unfailingly).

Also, I have been watching Twin Peaks season 2. I regret watching it after dark because it's nonsensical and fucked up in a way that can haunt my dreams.

Plus I am tired. I want to go to the farmers' market tomorrow and see if anyone has avocados, and buy peaches and cherries.

I am thinking of coming up to Portland/Seaside sometime in July, well after my mom gets home from Europe. I am trying to convince Kevin to come with me. I am feeling pretty anti-event-attendance this year, but I am warming up to the idea of casual socializing. It's feeling very hard right now, and I am feeling that I've wronged a lot of people and have a lot to apologize for, just by disappearing.

Things about today that were worthwhile.

• Chopping off half my hair
• Getting hit on by the ticket window guy at Maker Faire and only having to pay $10 to get in (under-21 student price--despite my asking for an adult ticket and being an adult, I was told, "Are you sure you're not a student? Aw, well, today you are." I blame the boobs, which were on display
• Seeing the Evolution Control Committee perform, including the song that got them in hot water with CBS, "Rocked by Rape" (accompanied by a slide show that, among other things, once flashed an image of Tori Amos while the word "rape" was said)
• Getting my current favorite soap from a vendor for $4 apiece
• Meeting up with my sister and her friend, who ended up being pretty geeky-cool, as well as running into Jess and one of Kevin's coworkers
• Kevin admitting that he was glad I convinced him to come, because he ended up getting a lot of information and enjoyment out of our brief time at the Faire
• Eating, almost completely by chance, at a good South Indian restaurant we'd heard about before. Their spring dosa was TOPS

Oh Bjork, were you brought by the stork?

Last night we saw Bjork for the second time ever. I never thought I'd see her a first time, so this was a treat. It was at the massive (and massively ugly) Shoreline Amphitheater, which is just as impersonal and ad-ridden as you can imagine. Regardless, Bjork was lovely--resplendant in one of those bizarre getups only she could pull off, a sparkly gold dress with a bubble skirt and giant ruffles covering every other surface, coupled at times with a blue cape and a bigger, more colorful ruffled...thing on her chest. Oh, and transluscent white leggings with low-heel black ankle boots. Her accompaniment was a group of 10 Icelandic ladies playing horns (and wearing flags), a keyboardist, a drummer, and two dudes playing extremely high-tech and visually interesting synthesizers. Of course, Kevin immediately knew what the things were and approximately how much they cost. (Hint: It's a lot of money.)

She played stuff off Post, Homogenic, at least one thing off Vespertine ("Pagan Poetry" may have been the only one), the song from the Olympics, and mostly new stuff, I think. They played "I Miss You" with the horns and a trumpet solo and I thought we might get "It's Oh So Quiet" (horns!), but no such luck. But, "Army of Me" was one of my favorites--it ushered in the use of the green laser stuff, which looked kinda like they were shooting out of her arms when she held them up on the beat.

Joanna Newsom opened. I had only heard a little of her stuff before, and it was very quiet for such a large venue. Kevin told me he read on Wikipedia that she hates having her voice compared to a child's, but we both felt it was more like Cyndi Lauper's than anything. Kevin also suggested that Bjork only picks opening acts who won't upstage her (evidence: Joanna Newsom; Bonnie "Prince" Billy).

In other news, I have been going to therapy and I saw a psychiatrist who told me to try some prozac. I had been kind of feeling maybe better and was on the fence about medication, but I figured it can't hurt (too much) to try. I don't really know what else to say about that.

I've also been totally uncommunicative with friends, for months and months and months, and that is very bad. For the record, I probably won't answer the phone if you call me. I just...don't really feel like talking. If you email I will probably write you something back, but phones, no. And I will probably not send the first email, either, because I don't know what to say besides "Hi, how are you, I suck as a person and as a friend" and then the onus is on you to dispell these distorted thoughts I have about myself before you can even get around to talking about you for a change.

Music I have been listening to lately: Pony Up! (especially "The Truth About Cats and Dogs (Is That They Die)", Peter Bjorn and John, Ted Leo + Pharmacist's newest album.

Noise violations.

I could fucking KILL MY NEIGHBORS. Who the shit hires someone to come dig up their driveway with equipment that sounds like it's too busy eating babies' souls to do anything else AT 7:30 AM ON A WEEKEND? Who?

My neighbors. MULTIPLE TIMES. Two weeks ago it was the people next to me. That shit woke me out of a sound effing slumber. Today? People across the street. Same deal. I had my window open because it's goddamn 80 degrees up in here and fresh air is nice and LOOK HOW IT REPAYS ME.

I looked some shit the fuck up. CAMPBELL HAS A NOISE ORDINANCE. Of course they do. They are nice little nanny-state community. Do you know what time is legally acceptable for power tools on the weekend?

9 FUCKING AM.

Complaints to be filed. Fuck you, neighbors.

Also, I am TOTALLY allowed to park on the STREET in front of your house.

HMOs suck.

Because an awesome system for people seeking psychiatric care for unknown-to-the-HMO reasons is to make it absolutely impossible for them to (1) schedule an appointment or (2) talk to a human being who isn't going to treat them like they are insignificant, then follow it up with a "Wait, this isn't an emergency, right?" like it's some kind of passing question. For a MEDICAL FACILITY.

I think my mom's potential response is best: "If I say yes, will I get an appointment?"

Jesus, I'm not standing on a bridge here, but. I really hate the phone, and I know they don't know that, but the simple fact that I've actually called them twice speaks volumes to the people who know me. I'm trying. Today I was okay; tomorrow I might not be.

For realsies.

I need a productive weekend. I have onyx-tinted water-based varnish and sealer/topcoat/whatever and other assorted tools to make the pieces of my unassembled, unfinished, solid pine platform bed frame into something vaguely attractive and protected so I can stop sleeping 3" off the floor on a mattress that's continually sliding off the side of the futon frame.

On losing my shit.

In case you hadn't noticed, there has been a severe dearth of posts here lately. Sometimes even when I have a lot to say I don't want to spit it out in so public an arena (though I'm sure most people who tried to read me "regularly" disappeared) and sometimes I just don't want those thoughts captured for posterity. The internet is here to stay, people.

So obviously a major contributor to my not-blogging has been depression, which has a long and storied history lately for me. If you can call "wants to do nothing but lie in bed, watching incresingly shittier TV and eating Ben & Jerry's fudge brownie frozen yogurt until she's sick, if she feels up to getting some at the store without feeling insanely guilty about it" storied, anyway.

Really, I only did the B&J's bit once. Well, twice. But it's low fat. And I probably didn't eat dinner at least one of those times. I KNOW, OKAY.

But this has been going on for, oh, months now. At one point I had an enlightening conversation with my friend Chris, who--I love you, Chris, but part of me had this thought that I wasn't fucked up because, hey, Chris is way more fucked up than me! And here you are, doing the work to un-fuck-up yourself. Or at least that's what you told me and then you pretty much disappeared off the face of the internet, which only sounds healthy. (P.S. please email me that you're okay and didn't jump off a bridge or something.) Anyway, I kept oscillating between really low and totally neutral post-conversation and continued having more conversations with other people about, well, myself--this depression is really killing any notions I had of myself being NOT narcissistic--and trying to figure out what is up with me.

Really, I think it boils down to these things:
-I keep telling myself I can't do things.
-I keep not doing those things and adding new things to not do.
-I hate myself for not doing those things.
-I am indiscriminately angry at myself and the world.
-I feel stuck all the time.
-I feel unable to enjoy a lot of the fun things that happen in life, even if I actually do them.
-I am totally distracted by all of the above, especially the self-loathing thought loop, pretty much all the time.

This means:
-My house is a mess.
-I have a lot of chores that are typically not getting done.
-I had not been eating as well as I should (with the start of my CSA season I've been making headway in the "getting kitchen clean enough to cook, then actually cooking" department).
-Work feels hard because I can't concentrate as well as I should and I let those "I hate my job" thoughts take over.
-I lack confidence in the Secret Number 4 whatever thing (oh, hell, it's a casual job search).
-Totally not doing anything on the "get exercise" front, obviously.
-Totally not talking to pretty much anyone except the people who make a concerted effort to talk to me, and even then, I am mostly buttoned up. Then with the other people I can't shut the fuck up and it's all about me.

I am probably going to regret posting some of those things.

So yesterday, I finally got over my phone phobia (incidentally, also worse) enough to call fucking Kaiser and try to get an appointment to see a psychiatrist. And you know what? They were "extremely busy" and would have to call me back. Every time I went to the ladies' room at work on Friday afternoon I was trying to hurry up in case they called me back just as I was taking a dump. That's just undignified. But they have until Monday at 5, apparently, to call me back, so I guess I'll be worrying all of Monday, too. Thanks, mental health services at my HMO. You know how to make a girl feel special.

(It will all be forgiven if I get an appointment and shit works out okay. Otherwise, they can eat me.)

I am going to crawl back into my hole and stew over my neighbors' hiring a motherfucking cement mixer at 7:30 am for the second weekend in a row. Thanks a lot, assholes.

Chiasmus!

Hey, look! It is a blog entry from mental_floss about the weird word I chose to use as my domain! How fun!

It's spring.

rogue chef - first course
Originally uploaded by emily ca..

I'm still here. Still feeling a looming gray cloud over my head. Still not really wanting to write about it so I can look back and cringe at my 25-year-old lameness when I'm 30 or older.

But here is a delightfully springy first course at the delightful Rogue Chef in Half Moon Bay. For more sexy food photos and other things, wander on over to my Flickr page, or for rambling about places I've been to lately, check out my Yelp page.

Up too close.

Well, I haven't blogged in ages. I've been here, having nothing to say, or nothing that I feel like saying in a public blog. I've been alternately finding refuge in idle entertainment, becoming horrified by my own settling, and getting sick, so it's been an awesome fucking month.

I did get a new cell phone, though. You know, that thing that I am unlikely to answer if you call. It has a lot of extraneous features (i.e., any of them that don't involve storing phone numbers, making phone calls, and receiving voice mail), some of which are even a little bit interesting, much as I hate to admit it. There is the camera, which allows me to take grainy photos of the world around me to use as my phone's wallpaper. There are the trial versions of java games that allow me to play the same one level repeatedly, if I am so inclined to use up my battery. There is a bluetooth deal that would allow me to walk around with the Borg-like earpiece, looking like a giant tool, if I felt like spending the money to get that. It also plays mp3s and gets FM radio, but I haven't really used those, either. Additionally, it is my first flip phone--and my first non-Nokia phone--so I am compulsively flipping it open and shut.

Wow, I had a lot to say about my fucking cell phone.

Two weeks ago I started getting weirdly sick--or not actually sick; it's unclear! I might've just been pushing my depression into some kind of psychosomatic illness, for all I know--and the result was missing 2.5 days of work, seeing my new doctor only to be told there is basically nothing wrong with me, and dropping the ball on what was shaping up to be a pretty decent fitness program. Motherfucker. I swear to christ that every time I try to be good, some shit happens and I lose my grip. It happened last fall with the walking to work/ankle sprain fiasco, and I'm sure it's happened other times. I can't tell you how many times I've dropped out of martial arts classes after suffering a cold and missing two sessions. (Okay, I can. It's twice.)

Right now, the only real symptom I'm experiencing is that I feel lightheaded pretty much all the time. It started when the illness started and I was on my period. I started taking B-12 at my doctor's suggestion, and I might add some iron supplements, but I don't know that this is actually a nutritional deficiency. Also, I know at least some of this was real because Kevin came down with most of the same symptoms.

Oh, this is disjointed, and I have no patience for anything. The smoke alarm is going off, again, as it likes to do when it's feeling neglected. It sees us in the kitchen, cooking, and we're not giving it affection, so it goes off. I want to throttle it, but I'll settle for angrily waving a broom at it.

I'm not feeling very inspired or motivated to do much of anything. Pretty much nothing appears to be happening on the Cryptic Step 4 thing and as the days drag on I feel less and less talented and interesting. I am going to waste in my own mind and at my own desk and I hate it. I have always been this fucking self-defeating; it's probably my worst trait (and I certainly have a lot of bad traits). I always feel like if I've got someone else to answer to, I can do anything, but left to my own devices, I'll languish.

Though even that last part isn't entirely true; I made a promise to an old friend and broke it in a seriously pathetic way. I still can't even talk to her, even though she's repeatedly told me all is forgiven. So what do you do when one positive thing you always believed about yourself is proven untrue?

I don't know, but right now the therapy involves watching shitty TV to pass the time and listening to music to grieve the passing of my soul.

I hate depression.

I mean, I think that's what's going on, because I can't make my head stop beating myself up, and I feel like I've got nothing to look forward to or anything interesting to say, and food doesn't sound delicious, etc. That, and I've been passive-aggressive and neglectful and flaky in the extreme with regard to one friend and also haven't managed to get my shit together to smog-check my stupid car so I can get my new registration sticker, which is due.

I am trying to get some things working out better in my life, and have actually taken, like, three steps in that direction. Is it cryptic enough to say that I'm working on taking my future more seriously? Also I'm taking pilates at the Campbell community center, which, two classes in, is fucking difficult. That is step 1. Step 2 is that I bought some new athletic shoes, and step 3 will be to start walking to work again in said new shoes. Step 4 is the cryptic thing. Step 5 involves planning some travel, and I'm just feeling that out at the moment. Thinking of maybe Morocco, Spain; somewhere in the Mediterranean; Peru and Ecuador--I don't know. Somewhere that requires me to get shots (which I guess would leave out the European bit).

The things to look forward to include tickets to some cool shows, like Comedy Death Ray at SF Sketchfest on Monday, John Vanderslice at the end of February, and both Ted Leo + Pharmacists and the Mountain Goats in early March. It's an embarrassment of riches, and I can barely get excited. My brain is fucking stupid. It can only think of the annoying things that are happening around me and the things I am doing wrong.

Anyway, the new Blogger shit lets me tag things, whoopdy-do. So here's to tagging.

Hiiiiidey-ho.

driftwood man, originally uploaded by emily ca..

Photos from my new camera (meaning, from my trip home) are now on Flickr. Rejoice, ye masses, and be merry.

Yeah, I fell off the face of the Earth.

I do that periodically.

So I turned 25 a week ago Monday. Kevin was sick with a nasty cold all weekend, so nothing exceptionally fun happened. I had to cancel Friday dinner, but I did bring the curry over to their house on Saturday instead, and we had a nice little dinner. I also baked a ton of cookies AND a gingerbread apple pie.

Sunday, after much ado about Kevin's well-being, we went to Santa Cruz for some low-key family birthday co-celebrating. First up was his mom, where we had the pie, hung out, and exchanged a few gifts. Kevin conspired with his mom and gave me a really sweet Canon PowerShot, dudes! So my poor Panasonic Lumix with the burnt-out LCD backlight has been eclipsed. (I do still want to get that puppy fixed, if the price is right, and possibly pass it along to my mom.) He also gave me a Gorillapod, which is an articulated tripod, and his mom gave me a nice, simple case for the camera. Actually, I think today is her birthday, so happy birthday to Kevin's mom. Next, we went to his dad's for dinner and some more presents. His dad's girlfriend is another December birthday. Dinner was dahl, mixed vegetables, and rice, yum. I can't say no to anything with lentils (provided it's vegetarian). Then the three birthday people blew out candles on a pecan tart and opened more presents. I received a silicon baster (since they knew I didn't have anything to brush, say, butter on bread for cooking) and a 2GB camera memory card. Sweet!

Monday was my actual birthday and of course I had to work. In order to avoid having cake and candles and singing, I brought in a big tray of my delicious, vegan, homemade cookies (and some of the really awesome Thai sweet and spicy nuts) for everyone and told HR not to make a thing of it. My boss took me out to lunch, my choice, so I chose Rico's for being one of two restaurants we both actually like. (Even for my birthday, it wouldn't be nice to drag my boss to a Middle Eastern or Thai restaurant when I know she'd order the blandest thing and have to pick half of the accoutrements off, anyway. That's just sad.) After work, with Kevin still sick, the Editor and his fiancee took me out for dinner -- I'm a cheap date, I just wanted falafel and a lemonade at Yiassoo -- and a movie, so we all finally saw For Your Consideration. It sucked about as much as all the reviewers said, but as Christopher Guest fans, we felt content having seen it at all.

Tuesday I lucked out with another birthday lunch, this time courtesy of one of my coworkers, from Just Laziz, a really cool Lebanese bakery that specializes in phenomenal manakeesh (like pizza, Middle Eastern-style) and where my coworkers are obsessed with the baba ganoush. In the evening, Kevin's dad was in town, so we took him to our favorite Thai restaurant. He was suitably impressed. We also found Kevin a suit at Burlington Coat Factory so he could attend my company's Christmas party in something other than holey slacks. But that's another goddamn story and I'm going in chronological order. Anyway.

Wednesday I wanted to kill my boyfriend because he had buyer's remorse and wanted to beg off the fancy dinner, and I let him do it. So after work I went and finally saw Borat and was generally in a bad mood despite that. Also I had to cook for my company's potluck lunch the next day -- the Ethiopian spiced lentil dish I think I've linked to in a previous post.

Thursday was the company potluck. It was really a fantastic spread this year. A lot of home cooking, excellent home cooking. My lentils were awesome, of course, but another coworker friend (the one who likes coming to the Campbell farmers' market) made butternut squash penne and cheese, which was amazing. The gift exchange had a number of hilarious moments. My secret santa recipient really enjoyed her favorite bottle of wine and selection of four dark chocolate bars, and I was given a pair of Century movie ticket gift certificates and $10 for La Pizzeria, yum! In the evening I watched the 1-hour The Office and pondered the similarities between Michael Scott and our own CEO. You know, your typical "water cooler"-type viewing.

Friday I was totally coming down with Kevin's nasty cold. I had a half day of work and spent most of the afternoon napping, then preparing for the party. The party was good, but afterwards, I went to bed and practically did not get up for the rest of the weekend. The cold was just that bad. I did have to cat-sit, but Kevin had to cover for me on Sunday.

This week has been just plain work and avoiding doing the dishes due to stubborness and laziness. I'm leaving for Portland/Seaside/Seattle on Saturday afternoon. Christmas shopping is pretty much done. Just have to pack now.

Happy birthday to Kevin! And also more food.

Today is Kevin's birthday! He is 111 years old.

I have been cooking-obsessed this week. It's awesome. On Sunday, I made the quinoa and black-eyed pea croquettes from Vegan with a Vengeance again, this time with the accompanying mushroom sauce. These turned out really well (as opposed to last time, when they were dry and not all that flavorful), probably in part because I actually had more of the correct ingredients this time and in part because half the quinoa allotment was actually bulghur. I also make Sicilian-style broccoli from The Mediterranean Vegan Kitchen, which is pan-steamed with red pepper flakes, garlic, and crushed capers, and a nice side of barley and wild rice pilaf. Monday night featured some lightly creative reworking of the previous night's meal, mostly in the form of the mushroom sauce over whote wheat rotini, which was a nice combination.

Tuesday I felt ambitious and made the Lebanese stuffed swiss chard that was abandoned from my Thanksgiving menu due to its complexity. It was the right decision, but damn, the dish was tasty. Like a more tender dolma with fresher, brighter flavors, surrounded by a nice broth. For protein, I accompanied it with a simple lentil soup (green lentils, browned onion, cumin).

Last night I tested this Ethiopian lentil stew recipe with a few minor adjustments -- I used red lentils and cooked them with the sauce, and instead of 10 plum tomatoes and tomato paste, I used a big can of whole fire-roasted tomatoes, both liquid and fruit, chopping the tomatoes before adding them. It turned out pretty well indeed, so I think it will be my office potluck contribution next week. But I am not so ambitious as to make injera; no, I stuck with a simple polenta (made according to Cook's Illustrated). The potluckers will get basmati rice, though. Polenta is a pain in the ass and doesn't really travel well.

Friday night the Editor and his fiancee are coming over for dinner, hooray! So you know I'm going to be a menu-planning freak about it. Real Vegetarian Thai had a "winter menu" suggestion that sounded ideal, considering I already bought some of the main ingredients at the farmers' market. It's a Burmese-style red curry (no coconut milk) with ginger, yams, and button mushrooms with a side of vegetables (in this case, I think red cabbage and orange cauliflower) sauteed in vegetarian "oyster" (a.k.a. shiitake mushroom) sauce and garlic, brown jasmine rice, and sweet and spicy nuts for dessert. I think I'll also make a very simple tofu and greens soup. The curry has to be made the night before (with curry paste I made last night) to let the flavors fully develop.

It's 8 a.m. and I am writing about food. Good lord.

Speaking of, time to go make breakfast. What says "happy birthday, now seriously, get up and go to work before noon" more than a hot bowl of dubiously prepared amaranth porridge, sliced apple, and spearmint tea?

Farmers' market haul and ideas.

I don't always go shopping with a particular recipe in mind. Especially at the farmers' market, I prefer to see what looks good and what has a good price. Most things I get are organic unless otherwise noted (*); then they're said to be no-spray. Kevin requested avocados, but creepy avocado guy wasn't there this week, so that's too bad.

This week, it was:
-Butter lettuce, $1/head
-Dinosaur kale, $1.25/bunch
-Cilantro and Italian parsley, each $1/bunch
-Sweet potatoes, $2/lb (I'm not actually sure if that's the real price)
-Broccoli and orange cauliflower, $1.50/pound
-Beefsteak tomatoes, $2/pound
-Yellow and red onions, $2/pound
-Button mushrooms, $3/pound
-Granny smith apples, $1/pound*
-Meyer lemons, $2/pound* (and yes, I could just get these from Kevin's mom, but we haven't been down there in awhile)

Now I just have to figure out what I want to do with all of it.

Well, I plan on making a gingerbread apple pie with half of the four pounds of apples I bought. I could even make another batch of those apple crumb cake muffins that turned out so well. Tomatoes and onions are infinitely useful in myriad recipes, so that's easy. There are quite a few potentially new and interesting ways to use sweet potatoes, as well as a few old hat recipes that stood up to scrutiny. I like to make salads to bring to work, so there goes the butter lettuce; mushrooms come in handy often enough. I can pretty much always find some use for good greens (the dinosaur kale) and broccoli, and cauliflower is perfect in Indian-type foods. Plus I still have a little red cabbage left from last week. I was hoping to find organic russet potatoes, but had no such luck, so another trip to Whole Foods may be in my future should I want to do something potatoey.

Addtionally, I've been working on holiday cookies. There are three packets of dough in my freezer now, and one batch of test cookies on my stovetop. The test cookies were a Lebanese recipe involving fine semolina (instead of flour), rose water and orange blossom water, and pistachios. They are basically a butter cookie with a very different texture. I think they're interesting. The doughs are for ginger cookies (I like to put a spicy candied pecan on top), chocolate raspberry thumbprints, and lemon-orange butter cookies.

I'm also the sicko who finished ordering Christmas presents by the end of November this year, though. Don't mind me.