Playing Catch-up

So Saturday I made a procrastinatory mistake of Tolkienian proportions. On the other hand, I need to stop punishing myself for taking the occasional Saturday off. A person has to shut off the brain and rest once in a while. Sunday I got back to work, with tons and tons of grading to prepare for my upcoming conferences with my students.

Monday I taught class, then spent the rest of my morning in the library, finding sources for my upcoming Mary Leapor paper. It was perhaps the first time since high school that I began my research early enough to take advantage of interlibrary loan. Thank goodness I did, because I chose a fairly obscure subject. I was checking out a giant stack of books when a student came up to me. She was shocked by my giant stack of books and that I'd been researching for the whole four hours since class let out. It's good for my students to see that, as much as possible, I practice what I preach.

Tuesday was tax day. I'd filed my taxes the Friday before, but the H&R Block I went to wasn't competent to do interstate taxes. They sent them away somewhere, so I had to skip my Harlem Renaissance class to go pick up my NYC taxes and mail them on time. Grr.

Wednesday and Thursday were grading and classes as normal. Friday Todd and I went to Wal-mart. On top of the normal grocery shopping, I got a timer for my lights and locks for my closet. That way, I can lock all my valuables in the closet this summer and set my lamp to turn off and on while I'm away. Hopefully the light (Todd got one, too, and Alex should be around occasionally) will discourage anyone from breaking in. If someone does break in, having my valuables locked in the closet won't stop them, but it will slow them down. Man, I hate thieves They make me feel so insecure.

The Fires of Mordor Consumed my Day!

I just lost a 12 hours…half a day of my life that I will never get back! For years people have been telling me how awesome the Lord of the Rings movies are, but every time I attempted to watch one, I fell asleep and only awakened to Enya singing as the credits rolled. I told myself I wasn’t being fair (though why I must be fair to a movie I don’t know) because I always tried to watch at night and I’ve never liked watching series movies one at a time. I love marathons, though. I can rarely tear myself away from a movie or television show marathon.

Well, this morning, I turned on the TV and the first film from the Lord of the Rings series was on. “Hey,” I thought, “this might actually work. This movie’s what, three hours long? I’ll be done before lunch, and then I’ll do some homework.” I was wrong. So very, very wrong. It was closer to four hours. Was it the extended version? Did they inject commercials into the full-length film without the usual TV practice of editing to create a reasonable running time? I have no clue. I made it through the first film just fine. “Oh,” I thought, “that was pretty good. Not as awesome as people tend to say, but not as boring as I thought, either. I wonder what happens next. I’ll have to see the second film sometime.” And there it was, airing just that second. “Oh,” I mused, “But I was going to read…but it’s on right now.” I suffered from a lapse of willpower, and the next thing I knew I was watching the second movie…for FOUR MORE HOURS!

This felt rather decadent, so I started checking my e-mail and using other methods of multi-tasking. I made it through the second movie just fine, again with the idea that I’d have to catch the final film sometime. The next thing I knew, the third movie was starting. I was both excited and distressed. I’d been at this for eight hours. To stop now didn’t feel like willpower. It felt like quitting! Finally I understood why they call these serial showings a marathon—because they require actual stamina.

For the third film’s showing, I continued multi-tasking. The problem is, I kept losing track of what was going on in the movie. For example, suddenly Pippin is swearing fealty to a bad guy and kissing his ring and singing to him while the bad guy eats chicken in the lascivious way movie bad-guys do. Wait, what? Why did everyone leave you behind? Because you looked in the magic-8-ball thingee? So then I’d swear to pay closer attention, which would last for about twenty minutes before I was confused again. How did Gandalf get there? Why did he come back? To be honest, I seem to have about one-and-a-half hours left before this is over and done. Here’s my summary:

Everyone in the shire: Happy Birthday, Bilbo Baggins!

Bilbo: Thanks, guys, but I’m gonna take off now.

Gandalf: Bilbo, I think you should leave the evil ring that is the key to The Destroyer of the World’s power.

Bilbo: Erm…okay, I guess. Here, nephew Frodo.

Gandalf: Frodo, we have to destroy it.

Frodo: Okay, I guess.

Sam, Pippin and Meriadoc: We’re coming, too.

[They go hang out with various important leaders of elves, dwarves and men- aka “The Fellowship.”]

Gandalf: That settles it. We have to destroy the ring, and because he’s little (and thus, innocent like a child), Frodo is the only one qualified to carry it.

The Fellowship: We’re in.

Hobbits: Do we get to stop for elevenses?

Aragorn (champion fighting human who’s meant to be king, but nervous about it): No, you don’t. Here’s an apple. Eat it walking.

[They walk and fight evil guys and walk some more. They walk more and go underground and Gandalf falls to his death, kind of! The Fellowship walks more and fight more evil guys and walks even more. Someone tries to take the ring and then gets killed, but repents on his death bed. Much manly bonding occurs. Men hug. They cry. They kiss on the forehead. They fight with swords.]

Frodo: You want the ring, don’t you, Aragorn.

Aragorn: Hate to admit it, but…yeah. You'd better go.

[Frodo and Sam take off and meet Gollum/Smegol. Pip and Meri are kidnapped by Orcs. The Fellowship go to rescue Pip and Meri who are first rescued my a tree herder (a tree that walks and talks) and Hey, Gandalf’s alive! They fights bad guys and the fellowship fight bad guys and Frodo and Sam and Gollum walk and walk and walk and Gollum has multiple personality disorder and wants to kill Frodo but also kinda doesn’t…until he does. The ring’s driving Frodo nuts.]

Gollum: Sam stole the bread.

Sam: Did not. Are you going to trust the crazy guy?

Frodo: I’m crazy, too, so yes, I will.

[Sam cries. Gollum gives Frodo to a ginormous spider. Sam manages to throw Gollum to his death, maybe! But he has to hide, because Orcs come and take Frodo. Meanwhile, The fellowship and the tree-riding-hobbits reunite and fight more bad guys. The tree-herders break a dam and drown lots of bad guys. One hobbit finds The Glowing Magic 8 Ball of Death. Hobbits drink beer and dance on tables.

A hobbit looks at The Glowing Magic 8 Ball of Death, which tells them to go to White Treeland. The guardian of White Treeland hates them because, among other things, one of his sons died protecting them…or something. And then one of the hobbits gets left behind and has to sing (?- see note above).

Meanwhile, Eowyn, a pretty girl elf who loves Aragorn, mopes.]

Arwyn’s dad- Stop moping. He’s human, and you’re immortal. Go to Eternityville before the world gets destroyed. Even if the world isn’t destroyed, he’ll die of old age and you’ll be really sad.

Arwyn- Okay. I’ll go. Only I’m lying, because I love him too much to go. I’ll turn human. It’s cool. (Or did she kill herself? I’m not clear on that, but hopefully it will be cleared up in the last hour of the movie.)

[Aragorn thinks Arwyn went to Eternityville, so he flirts with a noble blonde girl, Eowyn, who’s pretty handy with a sword. She falls in love with him. He dreams of Arwen and feels guilty.]

Eowyn: You know I love you, right?

Aragorn: “It is but a shadow and a thought that you love. I cannot give you what you seek.”

Eowyn: Fine. If you don’t love me I might as well march into battle because who cares if I die? Also because JRR Tolkien would never have me, a woman, do something brave and interesting without it involving love for a man.

[Big, giant battle royale ensues.]

Uber-Bad-Guy orc: NO MAN CAN KILL ME!

Eowyn: I’m not a man! (Kills him.)

[Everyone fights. The good guys win. Most major characters survive. Frodo saves Sam from the orcs and carries him to the Fires of Mordor to toss the ring in. But he doesn’t throw it in!]

Frodo: The ring is mine! (Puts on ring.)

[Destroyer of the World wakes up or something. Gollum bites the ring off Frodo’s hand and celebrates. Hey, he wasn’t dead. Surprise! Off in a battle somewhere, Gandolf can feel Frodo’s weakness and is bummed. Gollum and Frodo grapple for the ring.

Gollum and Frodo fall to their death, maybe! Gollum burns in the fires of Mordor while the ring floats on top. Frodo clings to the cliff and tries to decide if he should pull an Ilsa (from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade) but finally he lets Sam pull him to safety.

The ring burns and Destroyer of the World dies…or something like that since he was an incorporeal eye of fire and not a person. There’s a giant lava-y sinkhole that kills all the enemies, but the good guys think Frodo and Sam are dead, so they’re not as happy as they would be otherwise. Frodo and Sam think they will die due to all the lava, so they hug and cry and do more male bonding. Okay, the movie won’t end for another half hour, but I assume they will be rescued (they were saved, by a giant eagle) and Aragorn will be High King (he was made king and even sang!) and Arwen will be his queen (Yep!) and Eowyn will be queen of her nation and hook up with someone…maybe Legolas, the platinum-blond elf who has run around stoically shooting people with his bow and arrow and making the occasional quip? (Nope, she seems to be with the guardian of White Treeland’s remaining, non-evil son.) Hobbits are honored. The End! Oops, then the hobbits return to The Shire, hooray! Sam is not confident enough to talk (and subsequently marry) a girl. Frodo gazes at them with pride. THE END!

Oh, that’s not the end? Okay…Frodo writes a book. Bilbo takes the Elvish boat to Eternityville. Gandolf dissolves the fellowship. Frodo has PTSD and decides he’s too messed up to go back to the shire, so he and Sam share one last huand and forehead-smooch. He and Gandalf also hop the cruise ship to Eternityville. THE END FOR REAL THIS TIME…I think? No, it wasn’t! Sigh. Sam goes home to his cute little kids and to put an epilogue in Frodo’s book as Frodo narrated and dramatic music played. (How did people see any of these movies in the theater without their bladders bursting?)]

See how that doesn’t need to take twelve hours? Okay, my version’s not going to win any Oscars. Also, I left out Galadriel (“I’m an imperious elf. I want the ring and would be AWESOMELY POWERFUL QUEEN OF THE UNIVERSE WITH IT AND REALLY SCARY, but I can resist, so instead I’ll give you this magic lightbulb.) and the head dwarf Gimli (“I’m boastful and prideful and stubborn, but deep-down I’m a good guy who you want beside you in a fight.”). I also left out some themes: Evil= bad and Industry= bad. Hope and friendship= good. Nature= good. Drug humor? Weed, ha! Oh, and here’s some imagery from the films: White= good. Black=bad (except in the case of hair color). Water= good. Fire= bad. Universal moral= big things come in small packages (eg. the ring, the Hobbits, Gandalf’s moth). Ta-da! Twelve hours of my life that I’ll never get back. Sigh. Well, at least the music was pretty, as were the costumes and, oh, yeah, EVERY ACTOR IN THE MOVIE. Frodo, Eowyn, Arwen, Legolas and Aragorn? All mighty pretty. Pretty enough to make me not annoyed with myself for watching this? Not even close.

Homework, lemon cookies, taxes and a visitor!

This week was busy and stressful, and things probably won’t get better until finals are over (May 9--so close and yet so far). I spent the weekend reading doing research for a big paper on Zora Neale Hurston's Moses: Man of the Mountain due Tuesday. I also had lots of work due Wednesday and Thursday in other classes. There just wasn’t enough time! I kept the TV off and the lights on, working late into each night Argh. SO TIRED!

To de-stress, I made the world’s quickest and easiest lemon cookies (cake mix + vegetable oil + heat = soft, chewy lemony deliciousness). Then, due to stress, I ate all 40 cookies in four days. Oops. To atone, I got up earlier each day to exercise, but if I’m chubbier the next time you see me? Now you know why.

Today I taught my class, then filed my taxes. There were many forms to be filled out since I moved mid-year, so H&R Block was expensive, but worth it, because at least it’s done. YAY! Last night I managed to track down a bank statement online with most of my moving expenses, which I managed to deduct. I’m very proud. Now I can’t wait for my refund to arrive, along with my economic stimulus package bonus-thingee!

Unfortunately, I’ll probably owe some New York City and New York state taxes since the New York Public School System persisted in believing I lived in Iowa for most of the three years I worked for them. Man, that’s some commute! I got them to finally fix it part way through the year, though, so at least I should owe less than last year. I say “should” because H&R Block told me they had to send my multi-state taxes to some special office. The New York H&R Block didn’t do that when I had half-Iowa, half-New York taxes. What’s up with that? Oh, well. I should still come out ahead financially—Hello, tickets to Iowa!

The only other news of the week is that Todd’s girlfriend Lauren is visiting. He is so psyched! She is adorable. Fairytale princess adorable. Dressed-by-woodland-creatures-hair-braided-by-birdies adorable. And she's smart and funny. I love it when my guy friends’ girl friends are great and do not irrationally dislike me. It’s refreshing.

Poetry with the prez.

I can’t believe it’s already April! This week was too busy to even attempt an April Fool’s posting. I didn’t really get much of a weekend. Monday my bananas were bad, so I tried out a new banana bread recipe with yogurt in it. It was gorgeous, delicious and moist. Unfortunately, the loaf rose and rose…and then fell a bit. The bottom third of the loaf was squidged. The thing is, the top two-thirds of the banana bread was so delicious, I think I’ll use the recipe again. I guess I’ll just be gentler with the loaf.

Wednesday was interesting because I was invited to a poetry reading at the house of the president of Old Dominion University. My entire poetry class was invited, and our teacher, Luisa Igloria, warned us to dress up. Some of my more casual classmates were a put worried by this announcement, but I already knew what I wanted to wear: my graphic-pattern cream and black wrap-dress. Then, that morning I stepped outside to walk to work. A wind hit me, and if I’d been wearing the dress at the time, the neighborhood loiterers would have seen my unmentionables. Not good. Not good at all.

Suddenly I was left searching my closet for something appropriate. Everything involving pants was either too casual, too clubby (slinky,etc.), too big or ink-stained (one of the dangers of being a writer, I guess). All of my dress pants are hemmed to be work with sneakers. Sigh. I let down the hem of my black dress pants, put in a lower hem and pressed them, then managed to come up with a tank top, button-front shirt and jacket combo (enhanced by a necklace from Carolina) that was perfect.

When I got to where my class was meeting, I was more dressed up than they were, but I think they were underdressed compared to the other people at the reading. Of course, I believe in erring a wee bit on the side of overdressed. The teacher hustled us over to the President’s house so early that we actually beat the catering crew there! The president was trying to make conversation with us, and some of my fellow poets are not so into the social-butterfly-thing. Huh. I did my best to help the conversation along, and soon other guests arrived.

I ate some glorious cheese with dessert of truffles and chocolate-dipped strawberries. I schmoozed with several people…a few of whom, my teacher subsequently told me, were major benefactors to the program. “Oh!” I replied, “Then I’m glad I was nice to them!” Hee. Then came the actual reading, and the poetry was lovely, as was the president's garden (see photo above) and view (see photo further above).

In other news, my roomies and I re-signed our lease and each got a $100 voucher off our first rent payment of the new lease year. Hooray! Easiest $100 I ever made. Also, Moxie lost her last flower. I snapped this photo a little while ago, but now she is just a lovely cluster of fuzzy green leaves. Poor Moxie.

Publishing Fest!

Coming soon: an entry on the publishing fest.

Happy Easter!

I borrowed this image from a Catholic web site. Isn't it pretty?

It's Easter, so today I wanted to do something simple: go to church. I just wanted to gather with other people and pray and sing. I went online and found a United Methodist within walking distance. I put on nice clothes and set off. About half an hour later, I was there though a bit chilly. The church was gorgeous.

I went in, got a bulletin from the usher and sat down. Next thing I knew...tap, tap, tap. A young man had sat down behind me. I shook hands with him and we exchanged introductions.

Now I must admit that I have complained more than once about not being able to meet any nice young Christian guys. Heck, nice young men of any faith. I got so discouraged by all the atheist guys that at one point I would have been happy with a nice Jewish guy or even a Buddhist. At least they believe in something, even if it's not what I believe in. Well, be careful what you wish for.

This guy, Bradford, started asking me for information. I told him I went to ODU, getting an MFA in poetry. He shared that he is a theology student at some other university in town. He was decent-looking, but during the course of this brief conversation, he had already touched my shoulder more times than I was comfortable with. Then he said something about graduate studies seeming endless, "like perpetual dripping [or something equally weird] from the lips." And then he touched my bottom lip! Eeeeewww! We'd known each other for two minutes! We were in church! What? Seriously, WHAT!?!

In a bar, a dating-type-place, that would have been inappropriate. I would have told him off. In church, it was much more inappropriate, but telling him off felt inappropriate, too. I must have looked horrified. Instead of catching the hint, he said, "I hope you'll let me take you out to dinner after church." "Oh, er, no," I stuttered, "I have plans." Plans to go home. Plans to not go out with you. "Well then I hope you'll let me take you out later this week." "Oh, I don't know," I replied awkwardly, feeling trapped. Luckily, the service started.

The congregation was really small. I thought it might just be because they'd had a sunrise service, but I was informed "We're small on people, but big on heart." During the sermon, the pastor (who has a lovely voice) informed us, "People complain, 'So-and-so just passed away, and no one new is coming in.' I don't put up with that. I say, 'Bring people in!'" Good point, but on the other hand, way to pass the buck! I had to work hard to find his church online, and since getting home I've examined the site more closely. It's the most old-fashioned Methodist Church I've ever come across. They're not using any innovative methods to attract new members. The minister's preaching in general doesn't seem to mesh with the the Wesleyan Quadrilateral (understanding religion as the interplay of scripture, tradition, reason, and experience). Whatever.

Meanwhile, Bradford, as a future minister, felt the need to pray louder than the minister or the congregation during shared responses. Unfortunately, he was faster than everyone else. When we sang, he sang loudest, even though he was faster than everyone else and slightly off-key. He would even mutter corrections to the sermon. Okaaay....Even if he hadn't hit on me, I would have found him annoying. I kept thinking to myself, "Being annoyed at him isn't Christian. Tolerance...love...see God in everyone..."

When the minster went out of his way to say that a fetus is a person, Bradford called out, "AMEN!" Oh, see, Bradford? You think you like me, but you wouldn't really like me. I'm pro-choice. If I'd known his feelings on the matter sooner, I would have lead with that:

Him: I hope you'll let me take you out to dinner after church.
Me: Oh, er, no, I'm pro-choice.

He might have tried to save me from my heathen beliefs, but at least he would have stopped hitting on me.

I didn't find my new church home, but I got to worship, pray and sing. That's what matters most. Then, the minute the service was over (while Bradford was chatting with someone else), I booked it! I was halfway to the door when he called out, "Erin!" I turned, smiled a friendly smile, waved and just kept going...quickly! On the walk home, I enjoyed the sunshine, the flowers in people's gardens, the trees in bloom, many robins and a blue jay-- spring, and new life all around. Happy Easter, everyone.

Care Package!

I spent the second half of Spring Break occasionally exploring the neighborhood, but mostly alone in my apartment. It was a bit depressing. Classes started again, and I enjoyed teaching. I also got back two midterms. I got 98 percent on one and an A- from the tough grader. Not bad at all!

My Thursday class was canceled so I snagged a ride and got to hear the visiting poet-in-residence, Richard Jones read at a local book store (photo from Americanpoems.com). It was a funny reading, because he's from the area, so his family was there...kind of heckling him! Well, not heckling, exactly, but it was like there was no fourth wall. Before starting a poem, he'd explain something about it to his mom. His sister would add a funny comment after a poem. It was a lot of fun.

Jones is giving a class, which I couldn't afford. It's an extra class, so it isn't covered by my tuition waiver, but there were limited spots available to submit poems and meet with him one-on-one and get his feedback on our work. I was the first one to sign up. Jones was nice. He made some great suggestions on two poems and really loved the third as-is, which is helpful, because I've been having a little crisis of confidence. We also discussed my career options, and he gave me some good advice.

Unfortunately, things are not going as well for Moxie. Her leaves look fine, but she's lost all but two blooms. Too much water? Not enough? Does she need fertilizer? I've heard they bloom nine months and rest three. Is it resting time? Oh, poor Moxie. I just hope my brown thumb hasn't struck again.

Mom called recently to alert me that a care package was coming "for Easter and also to give you a chocolate fix." Music to my ears! Then on Friday the package arrived. Inside were four boxes of Thin Mints (!), two bags of jelly beans, four Cadbury Eggs, five Milky Way eggs, twenty peeps in pink and yellow, three books and a DVD set of Snowy River: The MacGregor Saga.

My family has a fondness for The Man from Snowy River (photo at left stolen from the internet). It's a 1982 Australian Western based on a poem by Banjo Paterson wherein a really valuable horse is lost, and it's fallen in with wild horses. All the mountain horsemen gather to find it, including a teenager (Jim Craig) on a scrubby mountain horse. At first they don't want him to come, but they let him, and he's the only one brave enough to chase the horses straight down the steep face of the mountain. He brings back the horses on his own.

The movie features Kirk Douglas in a dual role, a love plot, beautiful cinematography, and fabulous music, which was used as the music for the recent Olympics in Australia. Sometimes it plays like a cheesy made-for-TV movie, but sometimes it's just...awesome. The love I have for the movie is a nostalgic love, born of the many times my family watched it with our friends the Van Arkels. One of the girls once commented that she's looking for her own Jim Craig. It's short hand for a smart, reasonably sensitive, yet tough-and-outdoorsy guy. Amen, sister.

In the TV version, the rider's name was Jim MacGregor. The action takes place twenty years after the big ride, and centers around his life with his family and other people around town, including a young Hugh Jackman. It's a cute show and adds to my depleted DVD collection.

As for the junk food, I was thrilled and proceeded to give myself a tummy ache. I quickly stored the rest in a plastic bin in my closet (out of sight, out of mind). The next day, I worked out for an hour to burn off the extra thousand pure-sugar calories I ate. Now I'm trying to ration it sensibly. Warming a Peep in the microwave, then eating it between two Thin Mints is sensible, right? Thanks, Mom and Dad, for yummy Easter candy goodness!

Spring Break, WOOO!

(At left, two dead blossoms I trimmed from Moxie)

Spring Break, woo?

I admit, I've had a love-hate relationship with this Spring Break. I wanted to visit my family, but plane tickets were in the $900 range. I wanted to visit my friends in NYC, but we're all playing phone tag. Everyone I know here is out of town for vacation. The weather's not nice enough to be worth the hour-long bus ride to Virginia Beach (It's only half an hour by car). I also realized I have 54 three-page papers to grade and reading to do. My vacation suddenly seems a lot shorter!

I spent the weekend recharging and being quite lazy. I ordered Chinese food for the first time in many months (Restaurant food isn't generally in my budget.) and proceeded to eat portions of it for the next five lunches and suppers. It was awesome. I also watched 300 and had a Veronica Mars marathon. I've come to love the television series so much that it's one of the few things I've replaced, post-burglary. Luckily, Amazon.com had an amazing discount. Humor and teen-angst film-noir style? Yes, please.

Yesterday, I ran out of fresh fruit, veggies and Chinese leftovers, so I strapped on my backpack and hiked over to the grocery store in Ghent. I've been told Ghent is Norfolk's answer to the Village in NYC. Well, there are some ethnic restaurants, bourgeois (read expensive and fancy) grocery stores, a theater, and an art-house movie theater, but that's where the similarities end.

On the walk back, I realized why walking here creeps me out in a way that it never did in Des Moines, Storm Lake, Sevilla, Harlem, Spanish Harlem or the Bronx. I live pretty close to the university and fifteen minutes from Ghent. My apartment is in a "transitioning" neighborhood, surrounded by a mixture of student housing, low-income housing and family housing. The thing is, the buildings are widely spaced, but there are lots of fences and trees blocking sight-lines. Between my neighborhood and Ghent is an industrial district. In other words, there are all these areas where bad things could happen without witnesses. It also bothers me that as a strong, independent woman, I still have to think about these things. I hate feeling afraid just to walk around.

In my Harlem neighborhood, there were lots of weird guys loitering in front of the liquor store at all times, but they didn't make me nervous the way the loitering guys here do. These guys just stand there, alone or in clumps, all day long. At first I thought they were really bad at being homeless. (Skillful homelessness is done either in high-traffic areas with lots of opportunities for donations or in areas that provide lots of shelter from the elements.) Then I thought they were residents of the local Christian housing unit that doesn't allow alcohol or cigarettes. Perhaps they were just out on the street where they could enjoy a beer and a cigarette and occasionally run into friends. Last week, though, one of them just stood out there in the rain all day long facing the gas station on the corner. Say what?

Now I suspect it's drug-related. You see, quite often, a car is parked at that gas station, and people are always getting in and out of the backseat of that car. When the car isn't there, a cop car usually is. So there's a drug-ring on the corner that the cops are really unsuccessfully trying to stop. Fabulous. (There were dealers in NYC-- and Iowa-- but they always worked really hard to be subtle!) On the plus side, I've always been polite to the standing-around-guys, so they're friendly to me. I feel it's always better for the neighborhood criminals to have vaguely-positive feelings toward you.

When I got to the apartment, I tried cooking stir-fry for the first time. Before I broke down and ordered Chinese food, I'd been craving Thai. I don't know if any of the local Thai restaurants even deliver. Anyway, I wanted to learn to make some myself, so I bought some peanut sauce. Yesterday, I finally got the chance to use it. I found a recipe online. It actually would have allowed me to make my own peanut sauce, but using the stuff from the bottle was easier (not to mention comparably priced and probably spicier). Yum! It tasted so fresh and less fatty than restaurant Thai food. Here's the recipe from Cooks.com, including the make-your-own-sauce. Enjoy, my friends!

THAI CHICKEN STIR-FRY WITH SPICY
PEANUT SAUCE

2 whole chicken breasts, skinned, boned & cut into bite-size pieces (I suggest slicing before it thaws completely. It's easier.)
1/2 c. peanut butter
1/2 c. water
2 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tbsp. brown sugar
2 tbsp. peanut or vegetable oil
2 or 3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper
3 to 4 c. sliced broccoli or spinach

In a small bowl, blend peanut butter, water, soy sauce and sugar; set aside. In a wok or large skillet, heat oil over high heat. Add garlic and pepper; stir-fry 30 seconds. Add chicken, stir-fry until firm and white, about 5 minutes. Add broccoli or spinach, stir-fry until bright green, about 3 minutes. Stir in peanut butter mixture. (If you use the bottled kind, just drizzle it on to taste. I used half of an 11-oz. bottle.) Cook, stirring constantly until sauce is smooth, about 3 minutes. Serves 4. (I served mine on a bed of spaghetti noodles. Rice would also work well.)

It's quick, easy and tasty. Enjoy!

Midterms!

I'm not actually writing this now. This is one of those back-dated entries where I pretend I'm writing them as they're happening. The truth is, I've been too swamped to blog to a long time. Let's just pretend it's February 29, though.

It's been crazy, lately. Last week, I had a big presentation to do for my 18th Century British Literature class. Dr. Jacobs is known for being a tough grader, and that's a reputation he earned before he recently injured his back. He's gone off the pain-killers but is on a lot of muscle-relaxers and withdraw from the painkillers has left him hypersensitive to lights. He has to teach with sunglasses on and can't stay standing or sitting for too long. Even then, he sometimes has to dismiss class early. What am I getting at? Just that a normally-tough grader grouchy from extreme pain may be even tougher. What's more, one of my group members never sent me his info for the Power Point presentation I was preparing. Grr. I ended up working down to the wire to cover for him.

The next week was student conferences, so I had a ton of papers to grade. Then all day Monday and Wednesday was spent meeting individually with my students for half-hour appointments. One student told me, "I feel like I just got out of therapy or something." I thought that was pretty funny.

That pretty much brings us up to "now." I need to calculate all my students' grades and post them online. On top of that, I have an 8-10 page paper due in my Harlem Renaissance class on Tuesday and a 6-page paper due to the tough grader on Thursday. Then I give my students their final on Friday. Then I'll finally have a moment to breathe.










I did recently take a few steps to de-stress. I framed a couple of photos to hang on the blank wall over my bed and hung a mini-shelf. The shelf came with it's own tiny level, which allowed me to hang the shelf and the pictures straight. I own a level now! I decorated my shelf with a couple of candles and...my new African Violet, yay!

And I shall call her Moxie, and she shall thrive! Seriously, though, I've actually managed to keep it alive for weeks now, and it's even bloomier than before. (See photos above.) Hooray! Perhaps I have cured my brown thumb. And if not, well, it's like I bought myself a bouquet that's lasting a really long time.

Wish me luck on midterms.

Cookie Catastrophe.

Okay, catastrophe is a little too strong, but things did go a bit awry and I had to scrape my oven floor clean.

For quite a while, I'd been craving homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. I bought oatmeal and raisins last week at the store, but it was a busy week with papers to write and a major presentation to give. (I think it went pretty well.) Today after I finished teaching my 8 a.m. class, I decided it was time!

I got out all the ingredients and the great little mixer Grandma and Grandpa Staker gave me. The dough was ready in no time, and I spooned eight dollops onto my baking sheet. I didn't have a cookie sheet, so I used my pizza tin, which has holes in it to help pizza crusts bake up nice and crispy.

When the timer went off, I smelled something burning, but the cookies didn't even look done. Then I noticed weird little droppings on the bottom of the oven...and saw another one fall.

I know cookie dough gets melty when it's hot. That's why you have to space your dollops of dough a few inches apart. But for some reason, it never occurred to me that liquifying dough and a holey baking tin might be a troublesome combination...thus, oatmeal raisin stalactites. Hee!

I decided to stop baking for the day until I could get the burning cookie droppings out of the oven. Todd was actually glad. As my chauffeur, he gets a portion of all baked goods. Because of my mishap, he woke up to cookie dough instead of cookies, and as it turns out, that's just how he likes it. Heh. Cookie dough is quite enjoyable, but I did go out and buy a solid cookie for next time.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I've always liked the holiday, with or without a boyfriends. It's the best thing about cold and gross February, as well as an excuse to give your friends cards and candy (and receive the same in return). If nothing else, there is awesome discount candy available the day after.

One of my favorite Valentine's Days was one with a boyfriend. When I was 16, I was dating Doug. I was scheduled to cheerlead in a basketball game at Doug's school, but he wasn't going to be there because he had to work.

Well, I comforted myself that at least I was getting my braces off that day! The dentist removed them and cleaned my teeth. I couldn't stop running my tongue over them because they were so smooth! No more pokey brackets and wires. My smile was so big and bright and straight without braces. (For years after that, people would come up to me and ask if I'd had braces. They would nod with satisfaction and reply, "No one's teeth are that perfect." Hee.)

I was having fun cheering that night, and Doug's sister brought me a bouquet that he sent because he couldn't be there...but then Doug showed up just in time to give me a hug and a kiss before I had to jump on the bus back to Woodward. Aww...high school romance.

This year I made raspberry fudge (perhaps the SMARTEST thing I've EVER done--It's my mom's fudge recipe, but with raspberry extract in place of the regular vanilla) and hand-made Valentines. (Take that candy and card companies! I can have the traditional trappings of Valentine's Day without you.)

I cut out the hearts way back when I had that awful flu. I couldn't concentrate enough to study. I was too nauseated to even sleep, so I started snipping away. More recently, I taped them to some tissue paper. (Note to self: buy glue.) They turned out so cute! I sent one to Mom and Dad. I planned to sent out the others, but I got swamped. Maybe I'll send them out next year. (Hah! I've been telling myself that about my Christmas cards for three years now.)

I hope you all had a great Valentines Day. Remember, it's not just for couples: Valentine's Day is about showing appreciation to anyone who brings love into your life.

Culinary Weekend!

I had another nice week of teaching and learning. I feel like I'm getting back in the swing of scholarship, and teaching is easier this semester because I have sample papers from my former class. Things that took me a week to explain, they got in one day this time. Yay!

Before I knew it, it was Friday. I discovered my bananas were over ripe. On top of it, my roomie Todd (the one who drives me everywhere) was in a sad mood because of a lower-than-expected score on a paper. He loves banana bread, so much so that one family member gives him a loaf of it each year for Christmas. I found a recipe and made us a loaf to share, a surprise which cheered him up quite a bit. I also treated myself to some strawberries at the grocery store. For breakfast, on Saturday and Sunday, I sliced them and ate them with vanilla yogurt. It was so delicious! Then I kicked it up a notch, dipping berries in melted semi-sweet chocolate chips.

Dipping berries is so easy. Just wash the berries. Then make sure they're completely dry and not too cold. Put some chocolate chips (I did about 3/4 cup) in a glass bowl and microwave for 30 seconds. Stir. Microwave 30 more seconds and stir. Dip about 12 berries and set them on waxed paper. Chill them in the fridge until the chocolate sets. I had some left over, so I sliced a banana, put some peanut butter on the slices, then spread chocolate over the peanut butter and chilled that, too. YUM!!!

To end the weekend yumminess, I make turkey noodle soup. We have frozen thanksgiving turkey leftovers in the freezer that should be eaten now or never. Something's not quite right on the recipe card I have. Last time, I had to play around quite a bit, adjusting the water level, spice level and corn starch to get it the right flavor and thickness. By that point, I'd added a little of this, a tad of that, and didn't know what to put on the card. This time, though, it came out great with a lot less trouble. It might not taste just lock Mom's, but it's pretty darn good, if I do say so myself. I mentioned something about experimenting with the next batch. Todd didn't like that. He told me it's so good as it is that he thinks messing with it would be a bad idea: "So please don't. Make it just like this." I laughed and told him, "It's always nice to have someone appreciate your cooking."

GIANTS WIN?!?!

Wow. I'm shocked! I don't even care about sports, and I'm shocked. The last few weeks, you couldn't get away from talk of the Patriots' possible perfect season. Even NPR, the talk radio station that wakes me up each morning, did I bizarre little skit where they acted out a Super Bowl press conference as though it were written by Shakespeare. Click the link for the full text, but here's a sampling: "...Think on it: those called Giants are but dwarfs here, Mere ciphers in the point spread, a goodly dozen down. [...] Yea, the true giants, these peerless monsters, Call themselves Patriots [...]" Oookaaaay... Can you imagine waking up to that? You wake up confused. Really confused. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The last time I posted, I was down with the flu. That Tuesday, the university had a great poet, Nikki Finney, come to speak at a service to celebrate the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. Finney wrote a speech that was basically one long poem. It was full of encouragement for artists, activists, and anyone who contributes to King's concept of a Beloved Community, a community in which all people do their best to respect, love and are for each other. She also encouraged young black scholars, which is so important.

Some of my inner-city middle schoolers (especially the boys) suffered from a lack of educated role models. Many of their parents didn't have degrees. Some of their friends who struggled in school teased them for being geeks, or soft if they worked hard at studying. The young black and Hispanic men in my composition classes tell me the same thing. Some of them say they get more encouragement to take part in street life than to better themselves. Making things harder, as they become more educated, it becomes harder for them to relate to and connect with (even the positive influences in) their friends and family, which further weakens their support system.

I used to try to close the achievement gap for African American and Hispanic children by playing catch-up with middle schoolers. Now I'm working with college students. It occurs to me that having more black and Latino college grads as parents can only help the next generation of students (not to mention the good these grads could do as teachers, community activists, etc.) And just imagine...we're living in a time when our next president might be a black man. America has come a long way.

I spent the rest of that week recovering from the flu. I was frustrated that it was taking so long and went to Student Health Services. The Nurse Practitioner said post-nasal drip was aggravating my nausea. Ew. Okay. So I bought some Claritin D, which did clear up my allergy trouble, but also woke me up in the night. I can't believe I took that stuff every day for many years!

The following week was spent getting back up to speed. I ate more normal food (included the herb chicken I was contemplating last posting), did some exercise and a lot of studying and homework. Then it was the weekend again.

Tom and I had discussed the Giants' prospects a bit. He explained it like this: "When the Giants beat the Cowboys, it was like someone gave me a big bowl of ice cream. Now it's like they're offering me sprinkles. You say, 'Sprinkles? Sure, I'll have some sprinkles!' But what you're really excited about is the ice cream. The Super Bowl? To be honest, I'll be happy if they don't get slaughtered. If they actually won the Super Bowl, though...Erin...it would be like, 'Forget the ice cream. Here's a steak and some 12-year-old scotch.'" Hee.

Now, to be honest, I was not glued to the TV for the game. I was flipping back and forth between it and The Biggest Loser. In my defense, the first half of the game was very slow, in terms of offense. For the longest time, nothing happened. Then, toward the end, hello! With two minutes left, the Patriots scored to retake the lead. But then, in the end, the Giants managed to pull it off. As the New York Times put it, "Manning connected with Plaxico Burress for the winning touchdown, a 13-yard pass with 35 seconds remaining in the game." Hee, Plaxico.

I text-messaged Tom : "STEAK & SCOTCH!!!" He couldn't reply, though, because New York City's cellular system became overloaded, something that usually only happens on New Year's at midnight or in emergencies. I talked to him later, and he informed me that he'd basically had a conniption fit when they won. "I don't know what a conniption is, exactly, but I know I had one. I was lying on the floor, pounding my fists. Picture a two-year-old having a tantrum, only a grown man, and very, very happy." Hee! And this with all of his friends watching.

Well, I'm happy for him and all his friends in New York. Sorry to any of you who were rooting for the Patriots. It would have been neat to see a "Perfect Season." The Giants win did give me a nice lesson for my students: "Just a reminder from the Super Bowl, guys: Even when you're at the top of your game, you have to keep fighting to stay the best. When you're the underdog and no one believes in you, you can prove everyone wrong."

So sick!

(At left: interesting graffiti I saw when I went to the post office.)

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day!

I am not at an optimum level of happiness right now. Well, on the positive side: I got the apartment all cleaned up, I bought some cute new bookshelves to hold my new school books, and I had a lot of fun teaching my new class of students.

Not fun? Puking. Friday I woke up in the middle of the night feeling awful. I went into the bathroom and woke up hours later on the bathroom floor. I went back to bed, then woke up at 5:15 a.m. and had to run to the bathroom to toss my cookies. No fun at all. It's the first time I've thrown up (without alcohol involved) since junior high. Ugh. I couldn't reach anyone to call in sick, so I ended up teaching my class anyway. I don't think my students knew anything was off. I tried to stay away from my students, though, and not hand them anything I'd touched, just in case I was contagious.

I spent the rest of the day in bed, drinking a liquid diet (mostly sprite, bouillon, apple juice and Jell-o). I spent the next day on the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast). Yesterday I added soup for lunch, a honey-brushed baked chicken breast for supper and some pudding. Today I may add herbs and spices. Wild, right? Wish me luck.

Thieves are mean!

Remember that “funny” burglary story? The one where someone broke into my apartment, ate ice cream and fled? Not actually what happened at all.

I got home Tuesday feeling exhausted and emotional. I was so sad to leave my friends in New York, and I just wanted to relax. Then I saw the huge mess in the kitchen. There was a ton of mud on the kitchen floor, not to mention melted, molding ice cream. The ice cream was also pooled and molding on the counter. Then, I glanced in my room and noticed that it had clearly been tossed.

My jewelry box had been dumped on my bed. My drawers had been dumped. Storage boxes had been pulled out of my closets and from under my bed and dumped. The box containing my financial info and my checks was open, and the checks had been disturbed. They had even taken the time to pull apart my decorative martini shaker to see if anything was hidden in it. In other words, the story I heard did not match what happened.

I called Todd to ask him again what the story was. He was not happy to hear that we’d been mislead. I could see that a box of checks had clearly been disturbed in his room, too. I’ve since found out that the burglary actually happened Christmas Eve. As I cleaned, I discovered that the thieves took the opal ring I Mom and Dad got me for Christmas when I was 13, the ruby earrings I got for my 17^th birthday, the digital camera I they got me for graduating from Buena Vista, the fabulous Nikon N50 they got me for graduating from Fordham, my old cell phone, my tape recorders, all of my DVDs and my credit cards.

Our landlord thought he was being nice and not spoiling our holiday by waiting to tell us, but he could have destroyed us financially! The thieves could have emptied our bank accounts and run up our credit card bills! Since I got back, I’ve been cleaning up the mess and trying to protect my finances. I opened a new checking account and ordered all new credit cards. I stopped using credit cards a long time ago. I only had the cards stashed for a major emergency…thus I don’t really remember what they were. Oops. I’m just so afraid that I may have missed one! On a daily basis, I’ll probably miss the DVDs most, I’m most worried about the financial stuff, and I’m most upset about the sentimental items I received as gifts. I’m working on coming to terms with it, though. I remind myself that I’m lucky for all the things they didn’t get, lucky that the thieves hadn’t yet used my checks or cards, and lucky that they can take my mementos, but not my memories.

Now I’m trying to get ready for school on Monday. I’ve been buying textbooks, writing, getting my laptop worked on by the techies (it’s not dead, Hooray! Just the battery’s kaput.), and tweaking my syllabus. I’m so nervous to get my new classroom and my new class! Wish me luck.

Divine, Serendipity and Art.

January 2, all my teacher friends had to go back to work. Riza’s landlord is nosy and makes illegal complaints. The landlord doesn’t allow her to have visitors in the house when Riza’s not home. As such, I had to leave the house by 7:30 when Riza left for work. I was in the city before anything was really open.

Luckily, I could get into the Time Warner Center even though the stores themselves were still closed. I sat on a bench, reading and eating my breakfast. Then I went into Borders to trade in a book I got from two people. I got an amazing book called “Writing the Australian Crawl” and an amazing collection of poems by Wislawa Szymborska. At Best Buy, I discovered that my broken laptop’s warrantee had expired in November. Aaargh!

That afternoon, I couldn’t get a hold of Riza, but I went back to Queens anyway. Just to stay warm, I checked out all the stores in the area and, then went to a local Thai restaurant. I got nervous, so I called Jenny, and she agreed to let me stay with her for the rest of my trip. Finally, Riza called me. She’d been MIA because she dropped her cell phone and it shattered! She had to go buy a new phone, then she had to get my phone number from Laura. On top of it, when she got home, her landlord reamed her for having a guest. (The landlord’s behaviour is illegal, illegal, illegal!) Anyhoo, I headed back to her apartment, thanked her for her hospitality and hit the road.

I had the strange experience of being freezing cold and sweating at the same time as I hauled my three bags from 86^th and Lex to 83^rd between 1^st and York. Halfway there, it got a lot harder when a wheel from my suitcase shredded. Once I made it to Jenny's place, she and I chatted for about an hour, most of which was spent admiring her cats.

The next day, I met up with Tom in Brooklyn. I needed to use his computer. Then we were supposed to go to the museum, but it was SO COLD, so we ended up staying in and watching movies instead. It was so good to see him. He had recently gotten a haircut, so he looked adorable. “When I look at pictures from last summer,” he said, “I’m amazed you never told me to cut my hair! It looked crazy.” Hee. A little bit, but I didn’t care. (See non-crazy last January above left vs. crazier last April above right.)

Friday I planned to spend all day going to museums, but I was slow to get around. That afternoon, I ended up at the Museum of Modern Art. It was the free night…big mistake. I had to stand in line in a parking lot forever, then stand in line inside for longer because they forced me to check my backpack. While I was in line, I got a call from Todd informing me that our apartment was broken into. Apparently, the guy broke our back window, ate our ice cream, and took off. Okay…. Well, if you have to get robbed, that’s about the best possible outcome.

Anyway, in the end, I spend an hour and a half in lines to get into the museum. Then I only had a hour to look at art before I had to go. On the plus side, I made it through the second floor and the sixth floor, including the amazing Seurat exhibit. The exhibit focused on his sketches, not the pointillism that made him famous with Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. It was really gorgeous.

Then I met up with Tom for dinner. He got a scrumptious bucket of clams, but I got a desiccated plank of chicken. Seriously, it was like sawdust, so for the first time in my life I sent it back. My reward? A savory, juicy flank steak. Hooray for sending back overcooked food! Hooray for lovely restaurants that want to please their customers. Yay!

The next day I basically chilled out in Jenny’s apartment, reading a book. That night, I met up with Laura, Madrid, Carolina and Riza at Divine Bar. It was indeed fancy (see photo of food at left). I think the girls liked their boxes, especially Laura. Carolina had bought me a pretty necklace, and Laura had made me one. After some great eating, Carolina and Madrid hit the road and Laura, Riza and I hit the club. We spent hours on the dance floor.

Sunday I went shopping, but didn’t find anything I liked except a hostess gift for Jenny. I did, however, find a table at a restaurant I’d always wanted to try, Serendipity 3 (See photo at the very top, left). The food was delicious, especially the hot chocolate. Technically, one is supposed to order the frozen hot chocolate there, and the sundaes are legendary, but I was full and it was cold out! As it was, I gave myself a bit of a tummy ache.

The next day, I met up with Chris. We went for hour-long walk in an Inwood park. It was so pretty. We went back to his apartment to watch Sherlock Holmes and Joan of Arcadia. Madrid got home from work and heated up an amazing pizza. Then I was off to meet up with Tom again. I’m glad I got to spend so much time with him, but it was hard for me, too, because nothing has changed. We’re still not together.

Today I packed up my stuff and splurged on a cab to the airport. Part of me is so sad to leave New York and my friends, but part of me looks forward to getting back to my everyday life in Virginia.

Happy New Year!

On Dec. 30, I landed in Newark at 8:15 p.m., and it took me quite a while to make my way into the city and, subsequently, to Riza’s apartment in Queens. It’s funny, my friends were all, “We miss you, we miss you, when are you coming to New York?” Then when I announced I was coming, they were all, “Yay! Erm…who are you staying with?”

It’s not really their fault. Most of my friends have cramped quarters. Laura and Ryan share a one-bedroom apartment. They both teach in the Bronx, and Ryan is in the Teaching Fellows program getting his degree at night. Madrid and Chris share a one-bedroom apartment, and Chris is rather ill. Well, he’s getting over being rather ill, but he’s not up to a long-term visitor. Plus, it would be super crowded with his home-care nurse there, too. Carolina lives with her parents up in…Northchester? Westchester? I don’t know, one of the Chesters, too far from the city and public transportation. I apparently don’t have Lex’s correct phone number, still. So I started out at Riza’s.

I’ve always liked Riza. We’re just not quite as close as I am with some of my other NYC friends because she entered a rather consuming relationship right after we met, so she and I didn’t get to hang out as much. We were always, "Aw, Riza's not coming? Maybe next time." She has been much more social as late...impressively outgoing and adventurous, in fact. Riza is turning over a new leaf. She is also a consummate hostess. She and her dating-friend Aki (spelling?) met me at the subway station and helped me to haul my luggage to her apartment. He seems like a nice guy. I was tuckered out, and ended up going to bed while they were still watching movies.

The next day, Riza and I went shopping for some supplies. I needed stockings, gloves and an umbrella. Riza wanted to find a specific present to give the girls. She wanted us all to have the hugging salt and pepper shakers we used to play with at Blue Angel (see photo above, left). I had seen them in Union Square, so we went to Filene’s Basement for my supplies, grabbed a yummy lunch at Coffee Shop Bar an then found the shakers. Then we went back to the apartment for a nap, followed by primping.

We met up with Aki, bought some champagne to bring to the
party and rushed off to Pangaea to meet Carolina, Ryan and Laura for dinner. There was so much food! I ordered an appetizer (scrumptious shrimp in a lemony wine and white bean sauce), and it was enough to fill me up. Riza is a tiny girl, but she ate a huge meal and ordered dessert, God love her! Thankfully, she gave me
a bite or two.

Then it was off to Teke (TK?) and Jay’s party. (Note to self: kneeling and bending sideways does not make one look attractive in a photograph.) This is my third time at their party, and it’s always great. It’s held in this amazing loft that belongs to their parents. They occupy it when the parents are out of the country…which is often. I’ve met the hosts several times, but I don’t actually know them. They don’t mind. In fact, they told Madrid everyone bearing booze was welcome. We all met up with Madrid, as well as Jenny Levy, Irena and their boyfriends. We all had so much fun talking and laughing and drinking. My, oh my, the drinking. I am ashamed to admit I got in too deep and had to resort to tickling my tonsils in the bathroom to avoid extreme inebriation. Soon, I was glad I had.

Eventually, several of us left and ended up at Bull McCabe’s…which is precisely the routine from two New Year’s ago! Huh. Before too long, some up us were all partied out. Well, to be honest, Carolina started puking her guts out (and continued to do so all today) so we all headed home. I hope Laura doesn't tease her about it too much. She loves that stuff. (Just kidding, Laura. You know I love you.) Riza, her friend (grr…what was that girl’s name?) and I were shivering because we had worn dresses out into the cold January night, but we strutted down the street pretending to be warm. Soon we were warm in our beds.

This morning, Riza informed me that she wanted to go out in the city. I was exhausted, so I hoped she would change her mind. Aki came over and she made us a huge brunch with fruit salad, blueberry pancakes, strawberry syrup and bacon. YUM! After that, she was tired so we stayed in (Yay!) and watched movies. It was a nice low-key start to 2008.