Good Days

Yesterday was the anniversary of my last big break up. I didn't realize it until I was on my way home from work, even though I'd been thinking about there being a lot of negative things that happened on April 19th (Oklahoma City bombing) and April 20th (Columbine). It does seem that there are days with more than their fair share of crap occurring on them. If that is actually the case, than there must also be "good" days, that have more than their fair share of ambrosia, or whatever the negative of crap is, on them.

It could be argued that my last break up was actually a good thing, but it really didn't feel that way at the time. I got out my journal from then last night and reread bits of it.

The most interesting thing I found was that he had said that I was the truest person he knew. Interestingly enough, my ex-fiance had included in a list of good qualities that he put in print one Valentine's something about "most sincere".

It's hard to know how others see you. There is so much that goes on inside of oneself that often never gets expressed to anyone else. And then there are things like this where there seems to be something other people are seeing, but I have no idea what they are reacting to. It does make me wonder, since I know I am more honest with myself now than I was when I was with either of them.

the news today

I got an e-mail this morning, letting me know that someone I knew vaguely but had a mad crush on some years ago died last week. In checking around, I can infer that he killed himself, but I don't know that for sure.

I first encountered him at a Halloween party back in 2000. He was the emcee, wearing a very spiff Han Solo outfit. I was smitten. I didn't know until today that he'd be in a relationship since 1994, although I had suspected he might be gay. They have a great how they met story that ends with "...Bryan never went home. Though the locations have changed, over 10 years have passed and Bryan still remains. John never asked or desired for him to leave."

Grief is a funny thing, something I've had a lot of experience with. And I can't say it gets easier, only different. I've grieved over so many losses, both from my life and from the world, that it is harder for me to deal with someone who chose to leave. Especially when I'm wistful of the love he had in his life.

Ultimately, though, I'm just very sorry that he's gone.

Under the Skin

Have you heard the band She Wants Revenge? Their music is visceral, sliding under your skin and into your being. Listening to the singer/chanter, I imagined he'd be a skinny white guy with black hair with horn-rimmed glasses, a pullover sweater with a collar sticking out, and perhaps a stripped scarf wrapped around his neck. I wasn't far off, except for the colorings.

Today, I've had their song 'Tear You Apart' echoing through my body today. Except for the actual "tear you apart" bit, it resonates well with me right now:

"I want to hold you close
Skin pressed against me tight
Lie still, and close your eyes girl
So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close
Soft breasts, beating heart
As I whisper in your ear
I want to fucking tear you apart"

Idiot Proofing

While my memory is better than average, I still find there are things in my life that fall through the cracks. Thus I am constantly looking for ways to idiot proof my life. The biggest thing I can point to is the half-dozen or more Chapsticks I own and have placed in coat pockets, bags, drawer at work, and by my bed; because Chapstick is the sort of thing that when you want it, you want it NOW.

I also try to be good about where I put my keys and wallet. They have a "home" and my life is much better when I put them there, as opposed to somewhere random. There's nothing like it being a minute past when you want to leave to catch the bus to work and you are frantically running through the apartment hunting for keys.

One thing I've done that helps with the being good about what I do is being more compassionate to my brain. I noticed that at those moments of running around frantically that I could think quite hurtful things about my brain, so I decided to stop doing that and start adding praise when it remembered something terribly useful. Especially when it remembers in a timely fashion. (I do still wonder why, when it remembers something beyond the point of usefulness, it couldn't have remembered earlier, it is more in a pondering sort of way, rather than an angry sort of way.)

A lot of it is just paying attention, and it is best to have your brain on your side for that.

Whaddya Know?

I listened to the complete broadcast of "Whad'Ya Know?" for the first time in way too long. I'm not sure when I first started listening to it, but I do know it was driving around in my car on Saturday late morning/early afternoon. I went to see the show when it was at the Paramount theatre in Seattle in the late 90's. At some point, KPLU, which had been broadcasting it, moved it around in its schedule, eventually dropping it altogether. Recently, driving around in my car on a Sunday afternoon, I discovered that KUOW now plays it.

My favorite parts of the show are the quiz and the people who call in. Those people reassure me that there are intelligent, humorous people all across America. Now, more than ever, I need that reassurance.

Todays' show talked about Samuel Beckett, since Ireland, the land he left, is celebrating his centenial this year. It was the third Beckett reference I'd encountered this week. My connection to Beckett was playing Vladmir (Didi) in 'En Attendant Godot' when my college French club did scenes in our campus coffee/ice cream house, Cholmondeley's. I can still recite the play from the first line until Gogo asks Didi if he's read the Bible.

Attraction

I was around 13 when I experienced first hand that my taste in men could vary from the presumed norm. I already had a sense of there being a “good looking one” in any cast, be it John Travolta’s Vinnie Barbarino or Shaun Cassidy on The Hardy Boys Mysteries. But, when I saw ‘The Empire Strikes Back,’ I couldn’t help notice that it wasn’t Luke, the golden haired hero of the piece, that I was attracted to, but rather the rugged and not necessarily heroic Han Solo. I remember feeling a bit odd that I found him so much more attractive than Luke, who was clearly presented as the good looking one of the cast. (watching the movies now, Luke is so whiny I not only don’t find him attractive, but completely annoying).

Thus my early introduction to the idea that everyone has their own taste when it comes to who they are attracted to, which has helped me from making assumptions about who anyone finds attractive. Including myself.

Recently, I’ve started to wonder if we edit ourselves in terms of who we are attracted to. I first felt this to be a possibility when I was thinking about the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy men. I’d been thinking that, if they were straight, I’d probably date Thom, whom I find attractive in a neurotic sort of way. Then I started really listening to some of the things Kyan was saying and realized that I’d dismissed him as too pretty. I’d believed that we wouldn’t have anything in common because of the way he looked, and that he wouldn’t be attracted to me because of how he looked. I had something similar happen in an online dating context, and I realized how judgmental I was being about the person, and it really bothered me to see that in myself.

We are just so bombarded with what it “supposed” to be attractive (although I’m still at a loss for how someone can find a collarbone that looks like it is about to rip through someone’s skin attractive), we often lose site that real people have their own taste in what is attractive.
When I was in grad school, I had a crush on a classmate. I remembering looking at him one day and thinking that he was so thin I felt I might accidentally break him if we ever hooked up. Total nonsense, but that’s when I had the epiphany that guys must have that feeling too; some people just don’t look that sturdy.

For me, how someone looks is just an element of attraction. People talk of having a type, but if I do, it doesn’t revolve around build or coloring but around inner spirit, intelligence, and humor. But most importantly, it is about chemistry. It is about clicking with someone in a way that has no rational basis. Sometimes the click is just physical, sometimes it is romantic. Either way, it is a bit of a rush.

Day Off

Today I took my first non-holiday day off of work from my new job. Here's a list I started awhile back of why my new job is an improvement over my old job:

• WINDOW!
• Sunlight on my desk in the morning
• Being able to go to the Ave for lunch
• Being able to quickly walk to a 70-something Express going home (rather than taking a third bus)
• I’m no longer tagged (needing to wear a badge)
• I’m not the last one in in the morning
• I’m often still the last one at work in the evening
• My boss isn't overwhelmed by being boss
• Two flat-screen monitors
• The department puzzle table
• Being close to Trader Joe's
  

This sort of thing happens to me all the time

My life is pretty tao/zen. Here's a good example of that in action.

Earlier this month, on my road trip, I stopped in Olympia for lunch. I was in the mood for Qdoba, so I started looking for a phone book to see if there were any in the area. My toward-town driving got me to the Farmers' Market. While it was pretty deserted, I not only found a (sadly Qdoba-free) phone book, but also a fee-free ATM, which I needed since I'd forgotten to stop at the one by my house. After eating at the little coffee shop there, I was back on the road with a serious soda craving. I was wondering if I could find a Quiznos, since they sell vats of Dr. Pepper and several had been listed in the phone book, when I saw one just up the road.

No real plan, but it all came together. And I got most of what I wanted.

Happy Pesach

My Haroseth Recipe

1 C pitted dates, chopped
1/2 C white raisins
1/2 C dried apricots
1 large seedless orange
1/3 C almonds
1/3 C hazelnuts
1/3 C pine nuts
1/3 C+ wine
1/2 C flower honey
1/2 t cinnamon
1/4 t cloves

Soak dried fruit in wine for at least 8 hours. Cut orange into chunks. Combine all ingredients, mixing well. Chop into paste using a food processor. Add more wine as needed.

I've been using white wine, but the original recipe calls for red. I'm also pretty generous with the spices.

My Spiritual Canon

The Tao of Pooh
Benjamin Hoff
My life is naturally Tao, and this helps me clarify that.

The Te of Piglet
Benjamin Hoff
A little more preachy than Tao of Pooh, it still has a lot of good reminders for everyday living.

The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali
There are many translations of these, and I own several. Yoga is not just the postures (asana) that the yoga studios have. It’s more about finding peace within oneself. We waste so much time thinking and worrying about things that don’t really matter.

The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success: A Practical Guide to the Fulfillment of Your Dreams
Deepak Chopra
Only by rereading this periodically and actually doing asana and studying Patanjali has this really started to be incorporated into my everyday life.

Equations of Eternity: Speculations on Consciousness, Meaning, and the Mathematical Rules That Orchestrate the Cosmos
David Darling
Quantum Mechanics blows the mind. Is future observation really shaping current reality? One sticky point of evolution for me is how can things adapt so perfectly for their survival? It seems almost miraculous. And the Quantum answer is almost more unbelievable.

Taking it to the streets

I've often felt that Americans don't go to the streets in protest enough. In fact, I was a bit surprised by all the protests the immigration legislation has sparked. Until I realized that most of the protestors are minorities, who are more closely related to the issue than the average American. Being new and/or marginalized in this culture makes protesting more likely in my mind. The rest of us are just too comfortable and apathetic to issues that don't directly affect us (and even some that do).

So, God bless America and the protestors. Let's take it to the streets more often, since we've got much bigger problems that this immigration issue.

Taxes

I did my taxes this morning. It used to be that I would get my taxes done in February, but that was back when I was getting money back. Two years ago, my refund was down to $1. Last year, I actually owed money. I figured I would this year as well. It's creeping up, but still not a lot of money.

They revamped the 1040, which meant I read it a little more carefully than I have been. There seem to be many more forms involved, none of which seemed to be included. The only truly painful bit was line 45, Alternative Minimum Tax, which has a worksheet to see if you need to fill out a certain form. Line 7 of the sheet says:

"Enter the amount from Form 8914, line 2"

I didn't find anywhere in the 1040 instructions telling me what Form 8914 was, and was able to tell that it didn't matter for me, but it is exactly the sort of nonsense that makes taxes such a pain.

[I found out online that form 8914 is entitled 'Exemption Amount for Taxpayers Housing Individuals Displaced by Hurricane Katrina' so it is doubtful that knowing this will help me next year.]

The Recipe transcribed

Laurence Roberts' Fabulous Old-Fashioned Oatmeal Cookies with Chips with apologies to Betty Crocker. Specially for Nancy
Ingredients:
1/2 coup water
3/4 cup soft shortening
1 1/2 cups sugar (brown?)
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla (optional)
2 1/2 cups whole wheat flour (or half white/half whole wheat)
1/2 teaspoon baking pow(d)er
dash salt (optional)
1 tsp cinnaman
1/2 tsps cloves
2 cups rolled oats (oatmeal)
1/2 cusp chopped nuts
lots of chocolate or carob chips (1/2 to 1 cup) (I use 2/3)
Instructions: Cream shortening, sugar, eggs, and vanilla. Stir in water. Dump in the flour, baking powder, soda, salt, and lots of spices; stir in. Add rolled oats & nuts and chips. Drop rounded teaspoonfuls onto an ungreased baking sheet.
Bake: 8 to 10 minutes at 400*
Yield: for those who don't eat dough, 6 to 7 dozen. For others, a few dozen less.

My addendums. While the instructions mention soda, it is not in the ingredients list, and I don't believe I've added it. I tend to skip the nuts, and add nutmeg and ginger. The other day I added the zest of an orange and cranberries.

Laurence Roberts' Fabulous Oatmeal Cookies

I baked cookies tonight. It felt good, I really love to bake, but odd to think it's been awhile since I've done it. Cookies are a lot of work in terms of the whole batch process.

The particular cookies I made tonight, I realize I've not made since October 2004 when I baked a batch for a friend's birthday.

The full title of the hand-written recipe is Laurence Robert's Fabulous Old-fashioned Oatmeal Cookies with chips with apologies to Betty Crocker. And underneath that it says Specially for Nancy. It is written on a blue-lined notebook page, with sections of the inner-hole portion missing. There are red stamps of unicorns and dragons. And it repeatedly informs the reader that it is a Collector's Item.

The recipe advocates heavy use of spices and chips, either chocolate or carob, and offers a section on the back "For People who can stand raisins in cookies" They are really good. Tonight, I decided I wanted to add orange peel to the batter (finely grated) so went out to the grocery store (after my hour and forty-five minute commute home; gotta love baseball season!) to buy an orange. I also put dried cranberries in with the chips. While I agree about raisins, I'm okay with the cranberries. Very good stuff.

The recipe was given to me in the early '80's after Laurence and I had baked cookies at his house one afternoon. I met Laurence at the St. Paul Young Writers' program in 1980. He was a year older, went to the other Junior High in the area, and was eccentric. His parents were alternative, for instance, he called them by their given names since mom and dad held some sort of heirarchy that was bad (or something to that effect). I was even supposed to call them by their given names, but tended to just get around calling them anything (even now, I still feel odd calling my childhood friend's parents by their first names).

Laurence had an impish charm, a good mind, and geeky good looks, so I developed a bit of a crush on him. He (unsurprisingly given my record since then) turned out to be gay (should the fabulous and unicorns given it away?). I don't believe he was out, even in high school (although Mrs. Kirk, my friend Heather's mother, who went to church with the Roberts used to say, "Laurence, who I think is gay...," regularly).

I last saw Laurence in August of 2004 when I was down in San Francisco. He's lived there since after college with his partner, Nick. He goes by Larry-Bob and publishes 'Holy Tit Clamps'. He offers this good advice:

Nothing should be assumed about anybody's sexuality, including yours.

Road Trip

I went to Portland this weekend for a belated celebration of my brother Pete's birthday. Saturday, Pete, his girlfriend Miranda, and I went to see 'Ice Age: The Meltdown' (very funny) and then went out to dinner.

Today, we drove out to Multnomah falls for brunch at the lodge and as much hiking as we could manage. I'd say we made it about 2/3 of the way up before I started to worry about further exersion making me physically ill. I've sworn to train and make it up, but I was a bit disappointed that I couldn't keep up with the smokers. I think if it hadn't been right after brunch, I would have been okay.

Between the driving, loosing an hour to go on Daylight Savings Time, sleeping on a couch with up to 3 cats, and hiking so vertically, I'm exhausted!

I did manage to find the energy to run an errand for my friend Alex. He's a Long John Silver's fan, and they do not exist in Washington state, but there are some around Portland. So, I detoured over to one and picked him up a chicken/fish treasure box combo. He came over tonight to chow down, and seemed very satisfied with his meal. He was even giddy, which is always good to see.

That's what I did for my weekend. Time for bed!

Cutie Cute

This song tends to be stuck in my head the most these days:

Death Cab For Cutie - Crooked Teeth

It was 100 degrees as we sat beneath a willow tree
whose tears didn't care they just hung in the air
and refused to fall, to fall
i knew i'd made a horrible call
and now the state line felt like the Berlin wall
and there was no doubt about which side I was on

cause I built you a home in my heart with rotten wood that decayed from the start
cause you can't find nothing at all if there was nothing there all along
no you can't find nothing at all if there was nothing there all along

I braved treacherous streets
and kids strung out on homemade speed
and we shared a bed in which I could not sleep
at all a- woo hoo, woo hoooo oo oo hoo
at night, the sun in the trees
made the skyline look like crooked teeth
in the mouth of a man who was devouring, us both
you're so cute when you're slurring your speech
but they're closing the bar and they want us to leave

and you can't find nothing at all if there was nothing there all along
no you can't find nothing at all if there was nothing there all along

idle war of head versus heart
it's always this way
My head is weak it always speaks
before I know what it will say

cause you can't find nothing at all if there was nothing there all along
no you can't find nothing at all if there was nothing there all along
there were churches, themeparks and malls
there was nothing there all along