You may remember that, a few weeks ago, I went on a shopping expedition and brought home wads of stuff (yes, on the el). Among the wads was a bag of lemons. I even used a couple of lemons, to make the first round of breakfast muffins, but I had most of a bag still sitting in the refrigerator. They glared at me each and every time I opened the door, silently asking me when the fuck I was going to USE them already, seeing as how I shlepped them home on the el and all. Rather than watch them disintegrate into complete uselessness, I took them out today, peeled them, cut the pith from the peels, blanched the peels, and froze all except the bit I was going to use for Muffins: Round 2. (I also squeezed and strained the juice into a jar; I might maybe should freeze that into ice cubes or something.)
As a break from the piles of editing, I made the muffins again. This time, I used only honey for sweetening, and the chopped fruit included apricots and dates, the latter of which had to be soaked for a little while because they were so desiccated. (This turns out not to be a problem, because you have to soak the dried fruit--figs, in the original recipe--and the toasted wheat bran in boiling water.) I also added, at Friend's request, some oats and some nuts. I cut back on the total sugar, in part because of the dates (the original calls for a half cup of honey and a cup of sugar; I used 375 grams of honey, or about a cup, and no sugar), and because honey is sweeter than sucrose. I added an extra teaspoon of baking soda, as well. I also turned the oven down a bit; the original called for 400 and I baked at 350 (recipes with honey suggest this, to avoid overbrowning).
All in all, I like this batch better than the last one. For myself, I wouldn't have bothered with the nuts--they add a lot of fat and calories in general--but the oats were a nice addition. After I finished baking, I found the other thing that I'd purchased to put in muffins--dried blueberries (about $4 per blueberry, IIRC). Oh well--next batch, perhaps. They're even pretty healthy: about 200 calories per muffin, with 6.5 grams of fat and 3.5 grams of fiber. Throw in a piece of fruit and you've got a pretty good little meal going on. I'm going to need to get some wheat bran and/or oat bran to keep on hand to make these things. Meanwhile, it's been a good way to get rid of odds and ends of dried fruit and old baking supplies.
I didn't get as much done as I'd hoped this weekend, but it wasn't too bad. I'm sending two things back tomorrow, both a couple of days early; I'll need to work some tomorrow to finish the current batch of something else, as well, but all in all it's coming along.
Plus! Reprieve! The federal government informed us Friday that we have an three extra weeks to submit the narrative portion of our proposals. (The first, smaller batch of stuff, mostly forms plus the budget number, is still due on the 7th.) Of course, my boss and the head of the other unit both say they want to submit them at the old deadline, but I'm going to--politely, diplomatically--push back on that. I understand the reasons for wanting that (long boring chain of events that is contingent on submitting the proposals), but I'm not going to give on this one. I don't want to use the whole three weeks, but I'm not going to work crazy hours, either.
This isn't the post I wanted to write--I have three or four posts floating in my head, but they all require actual thinking and such, and I seem to only want to dash off updates. Ah well; I doubt anything of note hangs on whether I write a blog post of some substance or merely blather about writing and cooking and editing and baking and so on.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Bodily Manifestations
Love me some zen shiatsu, is what I'm saying. I'm entertained that my practitioner commented again today, reasonably emphatically, that I feel much healthier (to her) now that I'm no longer at the bakery. There were lots of crunchy spots (spleen, stomach, a little gall bladder thrown in, for anyone who cares), but there isn't the overlay of hurt that the bakery was dumping upon me. Even I can feel it, deep inside. Yes, of course I can feel it in the surfacey ways, too--I have more energy, I'm not nearly as stressed, my feet don't ache all the time, etc., etc.--but there's another level to it that I can't explain very well in words but that I can feel in nearly every atom of my being.
In other news, there's an odor in my kitchen that I can neither find nor identify, and therefore also cannot eradicate. It's not garbage, so I'm kind of at a loss as to what else it could be (and it doesn't smell particularly garbagey, for that matter). I'm a little worried that I'm going to find a dead mouse or something, and I suppose I still might, but I'm not entirely convinced that that's what it is, either. It might be plant-based, but it's not quite rotting and not quite blooming, and the smell is consistent in its characteristics, which suggests that it's not changing rapidly, whatever it is. (Let's face it, garbage goes from kinda-can-smell-it to get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here pretty quickly, especially if there's animal carcasses or vegetable peelings or rotting citrus involved.) Either I'm becoming acclimated or it is, in fact, waning a bit, so my intent is to ignore it. Presumably it will be warm enough to open the windows eventually (though we had still more snow today--big fat puffy white clumps coming down out of the sky, turning to grey slush almost immediately).
Tomorrow I want to leave work early-ish, too, so I can go pick up my new glasses--two pair, actually, a pair of reading glasses and a pair of regular glasses. Despite the discounts my eye guy threw in, the two pair plus the eye exam cost me $595. Yes, I am very nearsighted. And astigmatic. And old (i.e., I need bifocals). I'm so nearsighted and astigmatic that I shell out the extra for high-index lenses, else I'd need a little crane arrangement to keep the glasses on my face.
But! The "regular" glasses have a magnetic sunglasses attachment! The magnets are in the temple area of the frames, where the side pieces attach. I'm very excited, especially as racing season is about to begin. Normally I end up wearing my contacts for the races I attend with Friend--or when I do anything else outdoors in the summer, especially--so I can wear sunglasses, but my eyes don't like contact lenses for more than about 12 hours, max, I need reading glasses on top if I want to, say, read a map (or anything else), and sometimes the fumes and such from the event irritate my contact-clad eyes, so now I can wear glasses instead, without having to have a whole separate pair of sunglasses. Did I mention that I'm excited by this?
And racing season has, in fact, begun: the first two Formula 1 races have already occurred (Australia and Malaysia), and the Indy cars start this weekend. Though I won't be able to see an F1 race (because the F1 cars aren't running in the U.S. this year), and Champ cars are being folded back into the Indy thing (which also means no Champ cars at RoadAmerica this year), apparently Friend has already purchased tickets for the Indy 500 and for the Indy car race at the Milwaukee Mile the week after Indy. And I have been sufficiently entertained by the racing I've seen to shell out the extra $7/month for the sports package that includes the Speed channel. Nascar still does nothing for me--they look so big and hulking and slow when you've seen the little pointy cars.
Finally, from our that's-not-really-news department, I'm starting to get the tiniest bit anxious about work, so I'm going to spend this weekend getting as much of the editing out of the way as I possibly can.
In other news, there's an odor in my kitchen that I can neither find nor identify, and therefore also cannot eradicate. It's not garbage, so I'm kind of at a loss as to what else it could be (and it doesn't smell particularly garbagey, for that matter). I'm a little worried that I'm going to find a dead mouse or something, and I suppose I still might, but I'm not entirely convinced that that's what it is, either. It might be plant-based, but it's not quite rotting and not quite blooming, and the smell is consistent in its characteristics, which suggests that it's not changing rapidly, whatever it is. (Let's face it, garbage goes from kinda-can-smell-it to get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here pretty quickly, especially if there's animal carcasses or vegetable peelings or rotting citrus involved.) Either I'm becoming acclimated or it is, in fact, waning a bit, so my intent is to ignore it. Presumably it will be warm enough to open the windows eventually (though we had still more snow today--big fat puffy white clumps coming down out of the sky, turning to grey slush almost immediately).
Tomorrow I want to leave work early-ish, too, so I can go pick up my new glasses--two pair, actually, a pair of reading glasses and a pair of regular glasses. Despite the discounts my eye guy threw in, the two pair plus the eye exam cost me $595. Yes, I am very nearsighted. And astigmatic. And old (i.e., I need bifocals). I'm so nearsighted and astigmatic that I shell out the extra for high-index lenses, else I'd need a little crane arrangement to keep the glasses on my face.
But! The "regular" glasses have a magnetic sunglasses attachment! The magnets are in the temple area of the frames, where the side pieces attach. I'm very excited, especially as racing season is about to begin. Normally I end up wearing my contacts for the races I attend with Friend--or when I do anything else outdoors in the summer, especially--so I can wear sunglasses, but my eyes don't like contact lenses for more than about 12 hours, max, I need reading glasses on top if I want to, say, read a map (or anything else), and sometimes the fumes and such from the event irritate my contact-clad eyes, so now I can wear glasses instead, without having to have a whole separate pair of sunglasses. Did I mention that I'm excited by this?
And racing season has, in fact, begun: the first two Formula 1 races have already occurred (Australia and Malaysia), and the Indy cars start this weekend. Though I won't be able to see an F1 race (because the F1 cars aren't running in the U.S. this year), and Champ cars are being folded back into the Indy thing (which also means no Champ cars at RoadAmerica this year), apparently Friend has already purchased tickets for the Indy 500 and for the Indy car race at the Milwaukee Mile the week after Indy. And I have been sufficiently entertained by the racing I've seen to shell out the extra $7/month for the sports package that includes the Speed channel. Nascar still does nothing for me--they look so big and hulking and slow when you've seen the little pointy cars.
Finally, from our that's-not-really-news department, I'm starting to get the tiniest bit anxious about work, so I'm going to spend this weekend getting as much of the editing out of the way as I possibly can.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Nothing to See Here
Yes. Well.
On one hand, still no flour-lugging, and, really, that trumps everything about which I'm about to whine. On the other hand, I have now had three or four rounds of a new game: I ask someone where to get some tidbit of information I need for a very important task; s/he directs me to Person X, whom I then query; Person X eventually gets back to me with a bunch of questions; I respond to X; X tells me that s/he can't really help me after all, I must speak with Person Y; I query Y; Y asks some questions; Y says s/he can't help me, I need to speak to . . . yes, Person X. Lather, rinse, repeat. On the other other hand, many of my colleagues have been extraordinarily helpful (even the person who interrupts), and my boss seems genuinely happy with what I'm doing and how I'm doing it. There's still an unbelievable amount of work to do in the next couple of weeks, such that I get a little faint when I think about it.
Tomorrow I'm going to see my zen shiatsu person; I haven't seen her in more than a month, and I seriously need a tune-up. I've also been distressed this week to discover that I am still not menopausal. I went nearly three months without any sign of a period, and, people, let me tell you, it was heavenly. Today, though, I had the worst cramps I've had in six or eight months, maybe even a year, and I was not pleased about it. Yes, probably TMI, and I don't care. When I have a chance to be Thoughtful and Philosophical, I'll meander on about this whole transition thing, but meanwhile I'm just bitching about the reappearance of a period, however long/brief it turns out to be.
My efforts at getting exercise have been mixed, at best. I have been walking to work a few days a week--two, maybe three--and that's actually pretty pleasant. It's about three miles, but I haven't been walking as quickly as I probably should; still, something is better than nothing. I have not been to a yoga class in weeks (though I may go Sunday if I get enough editing done Saturday), and the walking isn't sufficiently satisfying in the dimensions I've mentioned before, but it's still movement.
I realized that I've got a couple of things to overcome. For one thing, there's the what's-a-50-year-old-woman to do problem, as outlined below. For a second thing, when I used to play handball, I lived in a different part of the city and basically had a different life; when I moved, I hadn't played in four months or so, so handball has never been part of my life in this location. If one is going to play any sport--Friend plays hockey, for example--then one must make the timespace for it; that's a given, and I had that worked out in my "previous" life, but not in this one or in the bakery one that immediately preceded it. It's not an unsolvable problem, it just has more dimensions than I realized at first.
I did want to write more, but I don't have much for you, or, more to the point, I don't have the energy tonight to turn it into words. Editing takes less energy, and the sooner I finish those jobs, the happier (and richer) I'll be. Don't expect much from me for the next month . . .
On one hand, still no flour-lugging, and, really, that trumps everything about which I'm about to whine. On the other hand, I have now had three or four rounds of a new game: I ask someone where to get some tidbit of information I need for a very important task; s/he directs me to Person X, whom I then query; Person X eventually gets back to me with a bunch of questions; I respond to X; X tells me that s/he can't really help me after all, I must speak with Person Y; I query Y; Y asks some questions; Y says s/he can't help me, I need to speak to . . . yes, Person X. Lather, rinse, repeat. On the other other hand, many of my colleagues have been extraordinarily helpful (even the person who interrupts), and my boss seems genuinely happy with what I'm doing and how I'm doing it. There's still an unbelievable amount of work to do in the next couple of weeks, such that I get a little faint when I think about it.
Tomorrow I'm going to see my zen shiatsu person; I haven't seen her in more than a month, and I seriously need a tune-up. I've also been distressed this week to discover that I am still not menopausal. I went nearly three months without any sign of a period, and, people, let me tell you, it was heavenly. Today, though, I had the worst cramps I've had in six or eight months, maybe even a year, and I was not pleased about it. Yes, probably TMI, and I don't care. When I have a chance to be Thoughtful and Philosophical, I'll meander on about this whole transition thing, but meanwhile I'm just bitching about the reappearance of a period, however long/brief it turns out to be.
My efforts at getting exercise have been mixed, at best. I have been walking to work a few days a week--two, maybe three--and that's actually pretty pleasant. It's about three miles, but I haven't been walking as quickly as I probably should; still, something is better than nothing. I have not been to a yoga class in weeks (though I may go Sunday if I get enough editing done Saturday), and the walking isn't sufficiently satisfying in the dimensions I've mentioned before, but it's still movement.
I realized that I've got a couple of things to overcome. For one thing, there's the what's-a-50-year-old-woman to do problem, as outlined below. For a second thing, when I used to play handball, I lived in a different part of the city and basically had a different life; when I moved, I hadn't played in four months or so, so handball has never been part of my life in this location. If one is going to play any sport--Friend plays hockey, for example--then one must make the timespace for it; that's a given, and I had that worked out in my "previous" life, but not in this one or in the bakery one that immediately preceded it. It's not an unsolvable problem, it just has more dimensions than I realized at first.
I did want to write more, but I don't have much for you, or, more to the point, I don't have the energy tonight to turn it into words. Editing takes less energy, and the sooner I finish those jobs, the happier (and richer) I'll be. Don't expect much from me for the next month . . .
Friday, March 21, 2008
Vernality
In honor of the vernal equinox, allow me, the non-poetry-person, to provide you with my favorite spring poem:
Spring Watching Pavilion
A gentle spring evening arrives
Airily, unclouded by worldly dust.
Three times the bell tolls echoes like a wave.
We see heaven upside down in sad puddles.
Love's vast sea cannot be emptied.
And springs of grace flow easily everywhere.
Where is nirvana?
Nirvana is here, nine times out of ten.
from the Vietnamese of Ho Xuan Huong
Meanwhile, work continues apace. The most annoying of the coworkers is apparently leaving, which is probably the best thing for everyone concerned. The second-most annoying person, however, is really damn annoying. It's not so much that I mind her particular contributions (which have been less than completely helpful), it's that she never shuts up, thereby preventing anyone else from contributing to the conversation. The other thing about her "contributions" that's so challenging is that she seems unwilling or incapable of thinking outside the box. The only suggestions she gives me are to go on at great length about what a great job we're doing with this or that thing. Yes. I know. Because you already mentioned that several times. But surely there are other things we could do, that perhaps we should do, that we're not doing? And perhaps it would be useful to include some of them, as challenges to ourselves?
It really is striking how she shuts down other people's contributions, too; yesterday's meeting did not include her for the first hour or so (she had to be at another of our sites), and everyone spoke up and we had a useful conversation. As soon as the talker showed up, real conversation ceased, which was unfortunate. I have to learn a whole lot from these people, in a short time, so such interference really slows down the process for me. I need to figure out what her key is--is it that I threaten her somehow? Is it that she brings insecurities to the table that she's afraid this process will expose? Is it that she really is completely clueless? (I rather doubt that last one, but it's possible.) When I'm having trouble with someone, I try to figure out what he or she is afraid of, or what fear is motivating their behavior, but I simply haven't been around her long enough to get a sense of that, plus I just don't have time.
And? I took on not one but TWO more editing jobs, bringing the current total to three. It's a little crazy, given the massive amount of work at Day Job, but what the fuck. I'm hoping to crank out a bunch this weekend--and cashing those checks is nice. Who knew that my persnickitiness with regard to grammar could be so lucrative?
Spring Watching Pavilion
A gentle spring evening arrives
Airily, unclouded by worldly dust.
Three times the bell tolls echoes like a wave.
We see heaven upside down in sad puddles.
Love's vast sea cannot be emptied.
And springs of grace flow easily everywhere.
Where is nirvana?
Nirvana is here, nine times out of ten.
from the Vietnamese of Ho Xuan Huong
Meanwhile, work continues apace. The most annoying of the coworkers is apparently leaving, which is probably the best thing for everyone concerned. The second-most annoying person, however, is really damn annoying. It's not so much that I mind her particular contributions (which have been less than completely helpful), it's that she never shuts up, thereby preventing anyone else from contributing to the conversation. The other thing about her "contributions" that's so challenging is that she seems unwilling or incapable of thinking outside the box. The only suggestions she gives me are to go on at great length about what a great job we're doing with this or that thing. Yes. I know. Because you already mentioned that several times. But surely there are other things we could do, that perhaps we should do, that we're not doing? And perhaps it would be useful to include some of them, as challenges to ourselves?
It really is striking how she shuts down other people's contributions, too; yesterday's meeting did not include her for the first hour or so (she had to be at another of our sites), and everyone spoke up and we had a useful conversation. As soon as the talker showed up, real conversation ceased, which was unfortunate. I have to learn a whole lot from these people, in a short time, so such interference really slows down the process for me. I need to figure out what her key is--is it that I threaten her somehow? Is it that she brings insecurities to the table that she's afraid this process will expose? Is it that she really is completely clueless? (I rather doubt that last one, but it's possible.) When I'm having trouble with someone, I try to figure out what he or she is afraid of, or what fear is motivating their behavior, but I simply haven't been around her long enough to get a sense of that, plus I just don't have time.
And? I took on not one but TWO more editing jobs, bringing the current total to three. It's a little crazy, given the massive amount of work at Day Job, but what the fuck. I'm hoping to crank out a bunch this weekend--and cashing those checks is nice. Who knew that my persnickitiness with regard to grammar could be so lucrative?
Monday, March 17, 2008
Fride Rice with Flair
When I stay at Friend's house, the bus I take in the morning goes through a whole collection of neighborhoods and ethnicities, most predominantly hispanic and Korean. Needless to say, the plethora of storefront shops and restaurants and such, many with hand-lettered signs or signs with moveable letters, provide a wealth of creative spelling. (My current favorite is part of the title of this post.) This amuses me but does not annoy me; the people making these signs speak at least two languages, which is one more than I do.
However.
On the el yesterday was an official ad from a hospital touting its open MRI services, and in this sign, someone used the wrong whose/who's. He or she--or, given the way I imagine ad campaigns are designed--they used who's instead of whose, most likely because they did not realize that whose is even a word. If it sounds like it has an s at the end, it must have an apostrophe in it!
That, much to your surprise, I'm sure, annoyed me. I started to tell Friend about it when we were sitting at the hockey game. "I saw something that annoyed me on the el." "Where is it on the list? Top five? Top ten?" "Top hundred, anyway." So explained what annoyed me, and he said that it fell into my general grammar-and-spelling rant (which is definitely top five), but I argued that this was more egregious. "Why?" Well, I explained, someone hired someone, either a marketing person (feh! blegh!) or an ad agency of some kind, and that person's or agency's JOB was to write that shit. And they fucked it up, not to mention contributed further to the grammatical downfall of humankind.
(Also, my experience with markety people (that was a typo, but I liked it and decided to keep it) is that they can sling the shit with the best of them, but they don't know a fucking thing about anything except Flair and bullshit. Especially the ones who have an MBA. Don't get me wrong, not everyone who does marketing is an overpaid bozo, and not everyone who has an MBA is a smarmy, overpaid ass, and not even everyone who is both markety AND an MBA is too dumb to tie their shoes and too arrogant to learn how. Some-of-my-best-friends, and all that. But the people who are most likely to annoy me and be overpaid, in both the for-profit and non-profit worlds, are people who do marketing and/or have an MBA, and the friends who have those qualifications would likely agree with me.)
Meanwhile, work continues. I haven't started to panic. Yet. But I'm beginning to see, even more clearly, that this task is like trying to build a bridge, and simultaneously use the bridge to get across the river, and meanwhile needing to requisition people and supplies but having no idea what resources are available or how to get access to them. Let's just say this is going to be a seriously major challenge. But my boss seems to have my back, and he seems happy with my diagnoses and my approach. And did I mention the part about a comma in every paycheck? Because that part rules.
However.
On the el yesterday was an official ad from a hospital touting its open MRI services, and in this sign, someone used the wrong whose/who's. He or she--or, given the way I imagine ad campaigns are designed--they used who's instead of whose, most likely because they did not realize that whose is even a word. If it sounds like it has an s at the end, it must have an apostrophe in it!
That, much to your surprise, I'm sure, annoyed me. I started to tell Friend about it when we were sitting at the hockey game. "I saw something that annoyed me on the el." "Where is it on the list? Top five? Top ten?" "Top hundred, anyway." So explained what annoyed me, and he said that it fell into my general grammar-and-spelling rant (which is definitely top five), but I argued that this was more egregious. "Why?" Well, I explained, someone hired someone, either a marketing person (feh! blegh!) or an ad agency of some kind, and that person's or agency's JOB was to write that shit. And they fucked it up, not to mention contributed further to the grammatical downfall of humankind.
(Also, my experience with markety people (that was a typo, but I liked it and decided to keep it) is that they can sling the shit with the best of them, but they don't know a fucking thing about anything except Flair and bullshit. Especially the ones who have an MBA. Don't get me wrong, not everyone who does marketing is an overpaid bozo, and not everyone who has an MBA is a smarmy, overpaid ass, and not even everyone who is both markety AND an MBA is too dumb to tie their shoes and too arrogant to learn how. Some-of-my-best-friends, and all that. But the people who are most likely to annoy me and be overpaid, in both the for-profit and non-profit worlds, are people who do marketing and/or have an MBA, and the friends who have those qualifications would likely agree with me.)
Meanwhile, work continues. I haven't started to panic. Yet. But I'm beginning to see, even more clearly, that this task is like trying to build a bridge, and simultaneously use the bridge to get across the river, and meanwhile needing to requisition people and supplies but having no idea what resources are available or how to get access to them. Let's just say this is going to be a seriously major challenge. But my boss seems to have my back, and he seems happy with my diagnoses and my approach. And did I mention the part about a comma in every paycheck? Because that part rules.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Home and Away
I haven't been at my home much in the past week; thanks to all the hockey games, and an assortment of other arrangements, I've spent about half of my nights at Friend's house in the past two weeks. (We've been going to his house because he has a cat whom he doesn't like to leave alone too much.) It's a little strange, given that I haven't done anything like this in, well, forever; Chuck never had his own place, and before that I wasn't in arrangements where it would have happened. I occasionally feel a little bag-lady-esque, it's true, but it's been okay. It helps that (a) I do not have to get up at the asscrack of dawn, and (b) the trip from his place to my work is wildly easy; the bus drops me off at the door of my place of employment.
Unfortunately, much of this hanging out has been accompanied by the consumption of great food and beer, which has not helped the ass-reduction program (ARP); quite the opposite, as a matter of fact, which is getting on my nerves. I'm really a little at a loss what to do about the whole thing. I do not like working out. I hate it, in fact, and I've only ever done it for any length of time when I was rehabbing from a handball injury or otherwise could not play. While part of me would very much like to start playing handball again, the logistics of that are pretty prohibitive: expensive, for one thing, as I'd have to join a gym that has a handball court and players; and involving much traveling to and fro, for another; and finding a place to do it, for a third. I'm not ruling it out for ever and ever, but I'm also not seeing it happen any time soon. I did walk to work today (about three miles), and then walked to get lunch today (maybe another 1/2 to 3/4 mile), and, now that it's no longer the middle of fucking winter, I may try to do that more often. It will help a bit, I'm sure, but. The biggest "but" (notice there's only one t there) is that I like playing sports, I like DOING something, and that's part of what I miss. So I don't know. I'll figure out something eventually, I suppose, but meanwhile I'm settling on walking and whining about how I want to do something else. If the ARP is going to be successful, I really must do something.
For a complete change of subject, Friend and I watched "Meatballs" the other night. I had recommended it, even though I haven't seen it in 20+ years, because of the chant Bill Murray's character teaches the campers in his charge: "It just doesn't matter." After seeing it again, it probably isn't worth going out to rent or anything, but two other things leapt out at us: There are lot of pretty young women in the movie (and some cute young men, for that matter), it being set at a summer camp and everything. No problem there. The two things that are really striking, however, are that, first, the young women do not play any sports in the movie, e.g., in the inter-camp competition. They are cheerleaders. All of them. The Meatballs camp is kind of halfhearted, while the BigFancy camp has cheerleaders in matching uniforms and such, and we're supposed to take something from that, but the girls don't play soccer, they don't do anything except cheer. Oh--and play field hockey, at one point, which amused me, seeing as how I played field hockey 35 years ago. The other thing that really struck both of us is that a lot of the young women had small breasts--or, rather, the young women had a lot of variation among them in terms of breast size, instead of all of them being mondo-breasted. And there really wasn't a lot of breast display, for that matter. Mostly the women were wearing t-shirts and such, and not skin-tight ones, either. So, really, that was kind of refreshing.
For this post's amusing (and, it turns out, deistically related) items, I saw this headline as I walked past a box today, and it cracked me up. Then, while surfing, I found this (slightly NSFW), which also cracked me up. If you follow the link in that post, you'll find a thoughtful post as well as the source of the (altered) drawing.
At work, well, things have gotten interesting already. For one thing, it turns out that the two major grants that fund the organizations for which I'm working (basically, there are a couple of related organizations that are separate in some important ways but still gathered under an overarching umbrella for a few other infrastructural-type ways) are about to run out. Yes, I have to write two major (as in multi-million-dollar, multi-year, whole-ball-of-wax) proposals, totaling about 300 pages of materials. A few pieces are due April 7, the rest (the bulk of the narrative materials) are due April 21. Let me repeat: the proposals for the basic funding for this organization are due in about a month. So, yeah, no pressure there.
There are a few hills to climb with my coworkers, but I'm hoping I can energize them and get them involved in ways that are helpful to me AND to them and that help us all move in a positive direction. It will be challenging, though. (For example, don't say to me, "I don't think you're understanding me." Not least because I am, in fact, understanding you, I'm just not agreeing with you. You even could say, for example, "I may not be clear here," but don't put the onus on me. Especially when, hello, you're wrong, and this thing you keep touting as the Best! Helpful! Website! Ever! in fact does not address all, or even most, of the areas we need to address in our proposals, so you can't get out of the work that easily. As you would know if you bothered to read the materials I sent to you. But to that person I said thank you, several times.) It's really a make-or-break kind of thing for me, so pissing people off right up front = bad idea.
My boss seems happy with me, and with my work, and with my plan for proceeding, so that's all good, and I do have a plan. Aspects of my current chart will make it clear to a few people that we will need to work on some of these things to an extent and in ways that they seem to be trying to avoid. And my boss agrees that we're going to have to do this as a group. (The person who claimed I was not understanding thinks I should just meet with everyone individually, I think because s/he doesn't want to do the hard work of reading materials ahead of time, preparing for the meeting, and then focusing on the task at hand. But I could be wrong. And I suspect there's some burnout in play, too, for that person and for everyone else.) Basically, I'm doing what I always try to do with this kind of thing: I'm organizing as much of it as I possibly can, which helps people focus on what I really need them to do, and, in particular, the things I cannot do without their input.
All in all, in some ways, this could be very cool. The plans at the heart of these proposals can serve as our guide, as the base for what we do, and that could be very positive. I said all this to my boss, and it was music to his ears--I think he's really, really glad he hired me. And I can see some of the challenges he has faced and continues to face, and I see it as my job to help with that. (I always tell prospective employers that my job is to make my boss's job easier. It's a great line, and it happens to be a useful approach.) One person who seemed pretty negative yesterday--about a different topic more than about mine--was actually very helpful to me: s/he pointed out that weekly meetings would NOT be sufficient to accomplish this, and was very supportive in general. One of the suggestions won't be as helpful as s/he thought, but, again, all of that will be made clearer from the materials I'm putting together.
I do kind of wish I didn't have a massive editing project at the moment as well. It turns out to be even bigger than we thought (which means both more work and more lucrative), and the production editor just got the last batch of materials to me today, even though the first ms batch theoretically was due back earlier this week. On the other hand, it isn't requiring the kind of massive copyedit that the last one entailed, though I must say that his author is way too fond of split infinitives and passive constructions. I'm going to spend a significant portion of Saturday hacking away at it, then have dinner with Chuck and CK, the latter of whom I haven't seen in a couple of months. And Sunday? More hockey!
Unfortunately, much of this hanging out has been accompanied by the consumption of great food and beer, which has not helped the ass-reduction program (ARP); quite the opposite, as a matter of fact, which is getting on my nerves. I'm really a little at a loss what to do about the whole thing. I do not like working out. I hate it, in fact, and I've only ever done it for any length of time when I was rehabbing from a handball injury or otherwise could not play. While part of me would very much like to start playing handball again, the logistics of that are pretty prohibitive: expensive, for one thing, as I'd have to join a gym that has a handball court and players; and involving much traveling to and fro, for another; and finding a place to do it, for a third. I'm not ruling it out for ever and ever, but I'm also not seeing it happen any time soon. I did walk to work today (about three miles), and then walked to get lunch today (maybe another 1/2 to 3/4 mile), and, now that it's no longer the middle of fucking winter, I may try to do that more often. It will help a bit, I'm sure, but. The biggest "but" (notice there's only one t there) is that I like playing sports, I like DOING something, and that's part of what I miss. So I don't know. I'll figure out something eventually, I suppose, but meanwhile I'm settling on walking and whining about how I want to do something else. If the ARP is going to be successful, I really must do something.
For a complete change of subject, Friend and I watched "Meatballs" the other night. I had recommended it, even though I haven't seen it in 20+ years, because of the chant Bill Murray's character teaches the campers in his charge: "It just doesn't matter." After seeing it again, it probably isn't worth going out to rent or anything, but two other things leapt out at us: There are lot of pretty young women in the movie (and some cute young men, for that matter), it being set at a summer camp and everything. No problem there. The two things that are really striking, however, are that, first, the young women do not play any sports in the movie, e.g., in the inter-camp competition. They are cheerleaders. All of them. The Meatballs camp is kind of halfhearted, while the BigFancy camp has cheerleaders in matching uniforms and such, and we're supposed to take something from that, but the girls don't play soccer, they don't do anything except cheer. Oh--and play field hockey, at one point, which amused me, seeing as how I played field hockey 35 years ago. The other thing that really struck both of us is that a lot of the young women had small breasts--or, rather, the young women had a lot of variation among them in terms of breast size, instead of all of them being mondo-breasted. And there really wasn't a lot of breast display, for that matter. Mostly the women were wearing t-shirts and such, and not skin-tight ones, either. So, really, that was kind of refreshing.
For this post's amusing (and, it turns out, deistically related) items, I saw this headline as I walked past a box today, and it cracked me up. Then, while surfing, I found this (slightly NSFW), which also cracked me up. If you follow the link in that post, you'll find a thoughtful post as well as the source of the (altered) drawing.
At work, well, things have gotten interesting already. For one thing, it turns out that the two major grants that fund the organizations for which I'm working (basically, there are a couple of related organizations that are separate in some important ways but still gathered under an overarching umbrella for a few other infrastructural-type ways) are about to run out. Yes, I have to write two major (as in multi-million-dollar, multi-year, whole-ball-of-wax) proposals, totaling about 300 pages of materials. A few pieces are due April 7, the rest (the bulk of the narrative materials) are due April 21. Let me repeat: the proposals for the basic funding for this organization are due in about a month. So, yeah, no pressure there.
There are a few hills to climb with my coworkers, but I'm hoping I can energize them and get them involved in ways that are helpful to me AND to them and that help us all move in a positive direction. It will be challenging, though. (For example, don't say to me, "I don't think you're understanding me." Not least because I am, in fact, understanding you, I'm just not agreeing with you. You even could say, for example, "I may not be clear here," but don't put the onus on me. Especially when, hello, you're wrong, and this thing you keep touting as the Best! Helpful! Website! Ever! in fact does not address all, or even most, of the areas we need to address in our proposals, so you can't get out of the work that easily. As you would know if you bothered to read the materials I sent to you. But to that person I said thank you, several times.) It's really a make-or-break kind of thing for me, so pissing people off right up front = bad idea.
My boss seems happy with me, and with my work, and with my plan for proceeding, so that's all good, and I do have a plan. Aspects of my current chart will make it clear to a few people that we will need to work on some of these things to an extent and in ways that they seem to be trying to avoid. And my boss agrees that we're going to have to do this as a group. (The person who claimed I was not understanding thinks I should just meet with everyone individually, I think because s/he doesn't want to do the hard work of reading materials ahead of time, preparing for the meeting, and then focusing on the task at hand. But I could be wrong. And I suspect there's some burnout in play, too, for that person and for everyone else.) Basically, I'm doing what I always try to do with this kind of thing: I'm organizing as much of it as I possibly can, which helps people focus on what I really need them to do, and, in particular, the things I cannot do without their input.
All in all, in some ways, this could be very cool. The plans at the heart of these proposals can serve as our guide, as the base for what we do, and that could be very positive. I said all this to my boss, and it was music to his ears--I think he's really, really glad he hired me. And I can see some of the challenges he has faced and continues to face, and I see it as my job to help with that. (I always tell prospective employers that my job is to make my boss's job easier. It's a great line, and it happens to be a useful approach.) One person who seemed pretty negative yesterday--about a different topic more than about mine--was actually very helpful to me: s/he pointed out that weekly meetings would NOT be sufficient to accomplish this, and was very supportive in general. One of the suggestions won't be as helpful as s/he thought, but, again, all of that will be made clearer from the materials I'm putting together.
I do kind of wish I didn't have a massive editing project at the moment as well. It turns out to be even bigger than we thought (which means both more work and more lucrative), and the production editor just got the last batch of materials to me today, even though the first ms batch theoretically was due back earlier this week. On the other hand, it isn't requiring the kind of massive copyedit that the last one entailed, though I must say that his author is way too fond of split infinitives and passive constructions. I'm going to spend a significant portion of Saturday hacking away at it, then have dinner with Chuck and CK, the latter of whom I haven't seen in a couple of months. And Sunday? More hockey!
Monday, March 3, 2008
More of a thick soup than a name, really.
After breakfast (at the yuppier version on Lincoln), a brief foray to a nearby Whole Paycheck, followed by the first game of HockeyFest 2008 (Blackhawks won, 4-1), Friend and I went back to his place and made the chicken tagine I mentioned (it's a Cooks Illustrated recipe, and I'll send along the pdf if anyone wants it). It's got garlic, paprika, cumin, ginger, coriander, cinnamon, cayenne pepper, lemon zest, and honey, among other things. I also added some crystallized ginger (because I have it and why not). We used venison instead of chicken (about 2.5 pounds of venison, cut into 1/2-inch to 3/4-inch cubes). If I made it with chicken, I would not use the whole, cut-up, skin-on chicken for which the recipe calls, not least because you would end up having to skim fat in the middle. Friend cut up and browned the venison in a little olive oil, then removed the meat but left all of the juices in the pan. We cooked the onions in that (and we added a shallot, because there was one in the fridge from the rabbit recipe a couple of weeks ago), then added the spices and the meat and so on, without having to skim anything. We added an extra cup of chicken broth, and about a cup and a half of farro, and simmered it for about 20 minutes--maybe 30 minutes total, after we put the meat back in.
And? It really did rock the house. We will totally make it again. I don't think we had quite enough carrots, so I'd put more of those in, and you could add barley instead of farro, I'd say, or some wine or more lemon juice or even some tomatos to acidify it a little and break the meat down more, but it was wonderful just the way we made it. Working together--he trimmed and cut up the meat, and then browned it; I had brought the spices with me, premeasured, in a baggie, because I wasn't sure if he had it all; and while he did the meat, I did the lemon and honey and garlic and chopped the onion and carrots and figs and such--it probably took barely an hour, start to finish, and that counts about 20 minutes of simmering time while the farro cooked when we didn't have to do anything. I'd say you could even make the farro (or barley, or rice, or even pasta or polenta) separately and pour it over, but putting the grain in made it even more simple. Did I mention how good it was?
Tomorrow I'm going to make the muffins, seeing as how I got the wheat bran and apricots yesterday, and I'm going to replace the buttermilk with milk plus lemon juice, not least because i want to put some lemon peel in the muffins and that's a way to use the juice. I have the peel macerating in the fridge as I write.
Can you tell that I'm enjoying doing stuff in the kitchen again?
And? It really did rock the house. We will totally make it again. I don't think we had quite enough carrots, so I'd put more of those in, and you could add barley instead of farro, I'd say, or some wine or more lemon juice or even some tomatos to acidify it a little and break the meat down more, but it was wonderful just the way we made it. Working together--he trimmed and cut up the meat, and then browned it; I had brought the spices with me, premeasured, in a baggie, because I wasn't sure if he had it all; and while he did the meat, I did the lemon and honey and garlic and chopped the onion and carrots and figs and such--it probably took barely an hour, start to finish, and that counts about 20 minutes of simmering time while the farro cooked when we didn't have to do anything. I'd say you could even make the farro (or barley, or rice, or even pasta or polenta) separately and pour it over, but putting the grain in made it even more simple. Did I mention how good it was?
Tomorrow I'm going to make the muffins, seeing as how I got the wheat bran and apricots yesterday, and I'm going to replace the buttermilk with milk plus lemon juice, not least because i want to put some lemon peel in the muffins and that's a way to use the juice. I have the peel macerating in the fridge as I write.
Can you tell that I'm enjoying doing stuff in the kitchen again?
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Upside Down Upside
As the Times is reporting, a lot of people are walking away from their homes. As housing prices drop, they end up owing more on the house than the house is worth, so they figure there's no point, especially if they've got an interest-only loan or if they've got an adjustable rate mortgage wherein the rate is about to go (or has gone) up. And there's a part of me that's snickering at this--not at the people who are doing it, because, no matter how much assistance they're getting, it's gotta suck--but at the bank people who are getting huffy about it.
"They made a bad decision and they should pay for it" is the attitude, the "they" here ostensibly being the homebuyers.
How about: you, Mister Bank, sold them a deal that was marginal for them, at best, and great for you, because you'd make all kinds of money from them, and the deal has suddenly gotten way worse for them, so they're saying "fuck it" and moving on? And you now not only own the house--which you did all along anyway--but you have to do the vacuuming and dusting and mop the floors? Metaphorically speaking, anyway. In other words, one could argue that it was the bank that made the bad decision.
I have accomplished exactly nothing today. Friend and I had some beers last night, then watched TV at his house. This morning featured a lot of laying about doing nothing and cat-petting, followed by breakfast (venison sausage; some plum brioche from the bakery that had been in his freezer for months; and eggs with onions, apple, and cheddar), followed by more laying about. I finally got sufficiently motivated to leave around 3:30 or so (he has to play hockey tonight, else I probably would have had difficulty dislodging myself at all). The trip home is about 90 minutes (two buses and a train), and I've been sitting around since then. Which, on one hand, is too bad, because I have nearly 900 pages of copyediting sitting on my kitchen table. But doing nothing feels quite pleasant.
I won't get much done tomorrow, because Friend and I are beginning our Month O' Hockey. We're meeting for food at 11 am and the game is at 2; we also have games on Wednesday night and Friday night. After the game tomorrow, the plan is to make a stew that was in Cooks Illustrated--a chicken tagine with figs and honey (and lemons and all kinds of good spices), though we're going to use venison instead, because it cooks for an hour or so, and I think the venison will do even better with that than the chicken would, and he actually has venison.
I was lying in bed this morning, contemplating muffin recipes, and, although I probably won't get to making one until Tuesday at the earliest, I think the first batch is going to feature lemon (because I have a bag of them in the fridge) and honey and ginger (Brazen Tart could have guessed those last two), and probably dried apricots, and possibly some dates, though those may wait for another day. (They're already desiccated, so no big deal if they sit around on top of the fridge for a little longer.) And I want to add some fiber to it, too. . . . Ooooo, just found a recipe for honey bran muffins with figs. There's a place to start.
Muffins usually are not terribly healthy--lots of fat, very little fiber, often a lot of sugar. My goal is to make something that is both tasty and relatively healthy (like the recipe to which the Tart linked in a comment below, for example, or like the recipe I found), and that freezes well. So I'm thinking of doing with the lemons kind of what I did for the Tart's lemon tart, except I'll peel the lemons, remove the pith, boil the peels for a minute or two, then macerate them in honey overnight, perhaps with the ginger in there as well. I'll probably reduce the sugar (in addition to a half cup of honey, there's a cup of sugar) and use some wheat flour, and I will still probably go with apricots rather than figs. (Okay; shopping list: apricots, buttermilk, sugar, bran.)
"They made a bad decision and they should pay for it" is the attitude, the "they" here ostensibly being the homebuyers.
How about: you, Mister Bank, sold them a deal that was marginal for them, at best, and great for you, because you'd make all kinds of money from them, and the deal has suddenly gotten way worse for them, so they're saying "fuck it" and moving on? And you now not only own the house--which you did all along anyway--but you have to do the vacuuming and dusting and mop the floors? Metaphorically speaking, anyway. In other words, one could argue that it was the bank that made the bad decision.
I have accomplished exactly nothing today. Friend and I had some beers last night, then watched TV at his house. This morning featured a lot of laying about doing nothing and cat-petting, followed by breakfast (venison sausage; some plum brioche from the bakery that had been in his freezer for months; and eggs with onions, apple, and cheddar), followed by more laying about. I finally got sufficiently motivated to leave around 3:30 or so (he has to play hockey tonight, else I probably would have had difficulty dislodging myself at all). The trip home is about 90 minutes (two buses and a train), and I've been sitting around since then. Which, on one hand, is too bad, because I have nearly 900 pages of copyediting sitting on my kitchen table. But doing nothing feels quite pleasant.
I won't get much done tomorrow, because Friend and I are beginning our Month O' Hockey. We're meeting for food at 11 am and the game is at 2; we also have games on Wednesday night and Friday night. After the game tomorrow, the plan is to make a stew that was in Cooks Illustrated--a chicken tagine with figs and honey (and lemons and all kinds of good spices), though we're going to use venison instead, because it cooks for an hour or so, and I think the venison will do even better with that than the chicken would, and he actually has venison.
I was lying in bed this morning, contemplating muffin recipes, and, although I probably won't get to making one until Tuesday at the earliest, I think the first batch is going to feature lemon (because I have a bag of them in the fridge) and honey and ginger (Brazen Tart could have guessed those last two), and probably dried apricots, and possibly some dates, though those may wait for another day. (They're already desiccated, so no big deal if they sit around on top of the fridge for a little longer.) And I want to add some fiber to it, too. . . . Ooooo, just found a recipe for honey bran muffins with figs. There's a place to start.
Muffins usually are not terribly healthy--lots of fat, very little fiber, often a lot of sugar. My goal is to make something that is both tasty and relatively healthy (like the recipe to which the Tart linked in a comment below, for example, or like the recipe I found), and that freezes well. So I'm thinking of doing with the lemons kind of what I did for the Tart's lemon tart, except I'll peel the lemons, remove the pith, boil the peels for a minute or two, then macerate them in honey overnight, perhaps with the ginger in there as well. I'll probably reduce the sugar (in addition to a half cup of honey, there's a cup of sugar) and use some wheat flour, and I will still probably go with apricots rather than figs. (Okay; shopping list: apricots, buttermilk, sugar, bran.)
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