Beets? You think we’re eating more beets?

A Book Of One’s Own: People And Their Diaries by Thomas Mallon (this book, oddly enough, caught my eye in our new discovery of a used bookstore, Book Trader on Market, and, on looking at the table of contents, it turns out that I’ve read it before, loved it and then… what? Sold it? Gave it away? Swallowed it in my sleep? In any case, it was excellent both times and this time I shall take great care not to lose it. It’s a fascinating, delightfully written description of all kinds of diaries that he loosely organizes into these very evocative chapters: Travelers, Pilgrims, Prisoners, etc. And I now have a list of out-of-print books that I want. A book that leads to more books. Epic win!)

They ought not be allowed to play Eleanor Rigby on the radio on such cold, bleak, rainy days as this one. Unless they immediately follow it with Rufus Wainwright’s April Fools. Way to walk me to the brink, dangle me over the edge and snatch me back, Radio Gods!

I forgot to tell you something interesting! Walking down 18th, right below Logan Circle, a couple of days ago, I thought I saw Jake R. from Spur. Catching up to him, it turns out, I did! I did! I did see Jake R., who was accompanied by his pregnant wife, Dana, his friend Ram and Ram’s wife, Heather, carrying their baby, Cole. We walked a few blocks together and caught up very briefly. Dana is one of those frustrating people whom I liked so much and wanted to get to know better and never did. I liked Jake much better when I heard they were dating! It showed there was more to him than I had known. Ram, who carries intact the unfailing sweetness that always distinguished him, and Heather, who I can’t quite place but who I know I liked, are well and living in Jersey. It was good to see them and it was also good that I am moving past shame or embarrassment that I am not further along in my career than I am. All of my friends are accomplished and intelligent and some are cutting quite a dash in the outside world, but they are also hardworking people reaping the benefits of that work and thoughtful people doing their best to live with integrity, so envy really is beside the point; I am, after all, trying to do the same (minus the hard work and the reaping and the accomplished!). And I may yet have something to show for myself and these days my time doesn’t feel quite so short as it used to.

On a very different note, we have entered into a new period in our lives: The Era of Brushing Our Teeth With Baking Soda. I will ask the dentist about it the next time I see him, but it’s a shame to think that I will not completely trust his answer. However, I like him very much because he has never pushed me towards whitening, as so many dentists do these days, and hopefully he will approve. All the toothpastes we checked list baking soda or some variation thereof as their only active ingredient, so it seems to make sense only use that. I may fool around with making a paste of some kind with mint oil and hydrogen peroxide, but for the time being, just wetting the brush and dipping it into the soda works fine and feels good. And you can’t recycle toothpaste containers, so to hell with them!

Also, did I tell you about the salad water? I often heard, and recently confirmed with 2 reliable sources, that boiling vegetables washes away most of the nutrients, but we don’t have a steamer. So, until we get one, I pour the boiling water into a jar and keep it in the fridge and drink it instead of regular water. M.F.K.Fisher said to use it for soups and broths, but I don’t make them often enough to use it all. Beet water is tasty warm, like tea, asparagus water is better icy cold and green bean water has no taste at all. Who knows if it’s any good but it won’t do any harm and when you’re as inimical to vegetables as I am, every little bit helps.

I just watched the video for April Fools and then Rufus’ cover of Across the Universe, which combined several of my favorite things: The Red Balloon, Magritte, Rufus Wainwright and Across the Universe (even though I never like his covers as much as his originals). How did I miss this when it came out? I don’t miss music videos, but these justified themselves.

12 minutes and counting…

The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler (excellently written and Phillip Marlowe is the best of guides. The mystery is fun and all, but really the writing is so original and surefooted, I can’t recommend it enough. If you don’t have time to read a whole book, try Woody Allen’s Mr. Big or The Whore of Mensa. Not quite so precise in the prose, but a lot more laughs!)

I am, I think, a sympathetic person. I try not to be judgmental and sometimes I even succeed. Nonetheless, it is good to experience something oneself in order to truly empathize with others. Welcome to My Battles With Addiction. Don’t worry, it’s a very small addiction, but I can’t seem to turn off the computer once it’s on or leave it off when it isn’t. I spend so much time aimlessly paddling around my favorite websites that I neglect doing other things, many of which I actually enjoy more! For a while, I packed up the computer and put it under the bed,but once it was out, it was harder and harder to put away and, soon enough, it was back on the kitchen table. Now, I’m trying a timer system: I set a timer and allow myself 30 minutes every morning and 30 minutes every night and always turn it off in between. So far (this is Day 2), it’s working. What I now understand quite clearly is that once you fall off the wagon, there doesn’t seem much point in continuing. For myself, especially living with someone, I feel like a hypocrite if I keep trying and failing over and over; how many times can he listen to my self-loathing and then to my promises to improve? But the answer is, of course, as many times as it takes. That was a freeing realization, that cold turkey is tough and every slip is hopefully one slip closer to the last. Of course, this is all very silly (other people have real problems) and even more so when you reflect that I’m writing it on a computer! Still… it helps me understand, albeit in a very small way, something that I see hounding other people. Best of luck to all of you! Oooh, time’s up.

The Good Taste of Czech Jazz Musicians…

I Served The King Of England by Bohumil Hrabal. Both Michael and I absolutely loved this book, although his objection to the fact that all the women were prostitutes or Nazis and my complete disregard for the same fact shows, I think, that we are turning into each other. Like people who begin to look like their dogs or couples who finish each other’s sentences, we’re blurring the lines between our souls via our books and, when next you see us, it is quite possible that I will be reading Kafka in German and Michael will be comparing the relative merits of Mary McCarthy and Shirley Jackson, which is the only way this could be a more perfect union!

There are writers whose work you greatly admire (Jane Austen, Kay Ryan, Leo Tolstoy) and there are writers (and, by the same token, characters) that you cherish. Michael and I spend as much time laughing at and analyzing and shaking our heads over and sometimes even worrying about Charles Lamb, Anne Fadiman, Clive James, Anthony Blanche, Cabiria Ceccarelli, and so on, as we do about real people we have actually met; in much the same way my family discusses Michael Corleone, who we all clearly find as interesting and real as we find each other!. I am happy to welcome both Hrabal and Ditie to our table, although we are sorry that we’re unable to offer them camel stuffed with antelope stuffed with turkey stuffed with fish surrounded by hard-boiled eggs and brushed by mint leaves dipped in beer (right? You’re hooked! You’ll have to read the book!).

Perhaps I should tell you more about the book, but I’m on my way to class. Suffice it to say, it was hilarious and uproarious and suddenly beautiful and indescribably sad. I think that Communism must have this effect on some writers, because as I wrote those adjectives, they reminded me of Mandelstam’s book about life under Stalin. One girl in our book class, new this semester, said that being Korean made this story and style very familiar to her, as South Korean writers have responded to their country’s history (Japanese 35 year occupation and then Russian occupation) with much the same humor that Hrabal uses to depict Czech life after the Nazi invasion and subsequent Communist rule. I, of course, found myself better able to envision some of scenes because of my experiences waiting tables and spending my tips in New Orleans! How satisfying is literature! Alright, enough burbling, I’m late!

Healthy and happy…

American Dream On by Storey Clayton (yes, indeed, ladies and gentlemen, our own Storey Clayton’s much-anticipated second novel! I finished it last night, discussed it with him today and will likely reread it over the next month or so. But not I must move on to Spanish homework and I Served The King Of England.)

Great Leap Forward (how useful is Mao in rhetoric!)! Do you remember my devastation when I found out that Philadelphia only recycles Plastics 1 and 2? In Montreal, they took everything and I became used to it. Well, Whole Foods partners with Stonyfield Yogurt to take Plastics 5. Also, I had forgotten that several stores, including Whole Foods, take back plastic bags (which in Montreal went in the recycling as well), so I’m less upset about those, although the plan to Refuse them is going quite well, thank you. I will only buy Stonyfield products from now on, when I must buy yogurt at all, which seems fair as I plan on taking them much stuff to recycle and I shall send them an e-mail telling them why I have switched to their product, so that they’ll continue to do so. Ditto Origins.

And even Great Leaps and Bounds and Vaults Forward… yesterday was a good day. Here, to put it to you much better than I can is my boy, H.H. In fact, let’s go ahead and put him in the Links section for all to enjoy!

Words, words, words…

Hext: (n) a curse or malignant spell placed on the victim via text message.
Courtesy of Storey

I have had an immensely satisfying weekend; Storey and Emily all day Friday, my brothers all day Saturday, brief appearances by Ginger and Ella Saturday night and then talking until 3:30 in the morning with my mother (we always truly mean to show up and not distract her from her schoolwork, but it’s not possible! She is so very distracting, as well as distracted!). This is exactly what we wanted when we moved to Philadelphia and now, with a few more shekels stashed away, it’s possible. Also, I love, love, love entertaining people who come over, bring me books, eat everything they’re offered, discourse cleverly and then pipe down so that we can all read together. Bliss! And then Boggle!

It was also confirmed over lunch with Da Boys that Somos pocos y nos conocemos bien! Nice to be reminded.

Do you remember my exquisitely-written, bittersweet elegy for my ring a few blogs back? Yeah, not so much. It wasn’t lost: I had taken it off and put it in my jewel box. I felt it only right that you should know. So, it wasn’t a sign, after all… Although, hang on…I think it can only be lost in Maine… aha! Insight!

Happy St. Paddy’s!

If you do only one thing this St. Patrick’s day (late), go here.

Storeyman has just taught me how to do that! Oh my goodness! Links, everywhere links!

Less or more…

Shopgirl by Steve Martin (I’ve re-read it now several times and it continues to stimulate me)

The trouble with minimalism is that there’s nowhere to put the books. I coolly admire the aesthetics of it and warmly admire the lifestyle it implies, but… we have to have books! We’ll just have to reduce other things!

Go Bananas!

Major setback! I just doublechecked the recycling instructions and it turns out they only take Plastic 1 and 2! I’ve been throwing them all in there, along with plastic bags and liner bags. I got used to doing that in Montreal. What do I do now? All the more incentive to stop buying stuff that comes in plastic which, after reading The World Without Us, I am convinced is the Devil. Glass, steel, aluminum and check your local recycling guidelines.

I’m still figuring out this blog and I realized that my writing will be different because my life is different. As obvious as that may seem, I only recently got it: I had just thought that my writing was sucking! My life is less colorful now and so my writing is less lyrical. These more mundane activities are the things that fascinate me now, which is excellent in that it leads me to my next thought…

Epic win! I just made Banana Bread. Ask me if you want the recipe; it was incredibly easy and delicious! I’ve never baked a damn thing in my life. Next time must use walnuts.

Today at Wachovia, depositing cheques, all the tellers, who used to be round, middle-aged women named Mavis, had all ben replaced by a row of young, thin brunettes, of various ethnicities and colors, all with painfully straight hair and all with fearfully sparse eyebrows; very Stepford. I wonder if it’s a new promotion of some kind… maybe I’m getting older and that’s why banktellers who used to look matronly now look like jailbait… can’t be it… I was in there only a week ago… hmmmm, must be a new hiring requirement. Enough silliness…To bed!

Requiem for a Ring…

I bought it on the street, during Octoberfest (or is it Oktoberfest?), in Harvard Square, for $23. I loved it immensely; a garnet and a moonstone, set in silver. I lost it in Maine, at Josie’s timeshare. The following Octoberfest, I found the same booth and, as they did not have the exact same ring, I ordered it and they sent it to me. I moved to New Orleans, wearing it. Again, I lost it in Maine, this time in Ethan’s house, on the island. I went back to New Orleans, found the business card and ordered another one. I then wore it for four years, very rarely taking it off to play the piano. When I became engaged and we decided to wear plain gold bands, I began to wonder what to do with my beautiful ring. And this weekend, I lost it. I sat down at a piano and went to take it off, to find it was gone. I’ve spent much of this week streamlining; I’m getting married in a few months; I wish my ring all the best of luck in it’s next act, at least as much luck as it brought me.

…but the righteous…

I was in an excellent mood until I read an article in the New York Times about the Texas Board of Education approving a conservative slant to their textbooks. I had known it was up for debate and I suppose, if I had thought about it seriously, I knew it would pass, but now that it has, I feel literally queasy. Jefferson is no longer a major thinker about the Constitution (he coined the phrase “separation of Church and State”), McCarthy is not such a bad guy (the textbooks now include papers confirming communist infiltration in the government), Phyllis Schlafly needs to be discussed (though why, I’m not sure), the Enlightenment will be downplayed as the major influence on our Founding Fathers, up is down and black is white. I believe that there cannot be enough discussion of the poor, the oppressed, the dispossessed, people who have less visibility and volume than the powerful, who need very little help getting their message out. The most interesting and confusing lessons I learned in high school were from Mr. Jagels (and not the textbooks, of which I have absolutely no memory at all… I’ve just cheered myself a little) about the C.I.A.’s covert operations to assassinate Patrice Lumumba, bring about the downfall of Salvador Allende, funnel arms to Iran during the Iran-Contra scandal (although, to be fair, I don’t think that was the C.I.A as much as the State Department? Must look that up), etc, none of which I would have learned about otherwise. Rather than learning to hate America (or conservatives or Reaganites or whatever), I learned that we are not perfect and that the photo-op is not the reality. It’ s a lesson that has to be learned eventually. These people are more interested in holding up their side than in seeing if their side really holds up. Ah well, everything backlashes eventually and maybe one day we’ll live to see A People’s History Of The United States taught in these same classrooms.  A thousand times more so than these Texas conservatives, Zinn’s work merits the praise “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”