no more pharmacy for KT

I put in my notice at work! YEA! My boss said, " That's sucks. But good for you."

There's never really a good time to quit your job...so why not now? :P

overnight rising

Last night I tried a new technique for rising a dough- instead of having it in a warm place for 1-2 hours, I left in in the fridge overnight. Obviously it's much slower with the cold fridge, but it has lots of time while I'm sleeping. It worked somewhat-but it only rose about half as much as I'd like, so I still have to let it sit out for a while.

I might still be able to salvage a decent loaf out of it if I can get it to do it's second rising up to par. Also I won't split it in two this time, I'm going to dedicate it all to one loaf.

Also I made pasta (just whole wheat flour, water, olive oil) last night, so now we have 4 and 1/2 portions in the fridge, each portion a generous amount for two people. It actually only took about 5 minutes to make the dough, then let rest for 15, then roll into sheets (about 1/2 hour), then cut into strips (about 15 min) then let dry for ~hour before dividing into portions and freezing. I think next time I want to try making some flavors, like black pepper or spinach. I have a little crank roller that I use for this, btw. It looks like this:


First you roll it into sheets as above and then use the attachment on the other side to cut into strips. You can make it by hand too, by rolling it with a pin and cutting it manually but I have no desire to really try that.

Does anyone else out there spend their weekends making food from scratch? ::sighs::

errr...

Okay, leave it to me to follow up my feminist rant with one about my weight. I'd be lying if I said it didn't bug me that after a week of eating well, avoiding alcohol, and doing yoga nearly everyday I actually gained a pound. Yes, we went all out last night for Erich's birthday (pecan crusted goat-cheese balls with red pear, thai steak, and devil'sfood cake w/vanilla bean sauce), but I know better than to think one meal can have that kind of effect.

Anyway, what I'm taking from this week was that I felt good all week-good about my food choices, good about avoiding alcohol (I'm pretty sure my poor liver appreciated it) and good about the yoga. Slowly but steadily I will make the choices that lead to a stronger, healthier me. It's a fine line, because often there's often the implication that a feminist shouldn't care about her weight-but that's a fallacy. It lends to the stereotype so brilliantly propagated (by those who benefit from women's oppression) that feminists are man-hating, fat, and ugly, and their real beef is that they can't get laid. If we were prettier we wouldn't be so pissed off. My mind and body function as a whole, and the sharpening of my intellect coincides with the sharpening of my body. If I'm feeding myself crap, not only does my body suffer, but my mind slows and becomes clouded.

Of course we all know how much I like wine. But with the unfailing support of my husband I'm changing my life (which I'll write more about as things progress). I don't so much feel like I'm changing but finally respecting myself enough to live the way I want (need) to instead of how I have told myself that I should.

"Suppose you had the revolution you are talking and dreaming about. Suppose your side had won, and you had the kind of society that you wanted. How would you live, personally, in that society? Start living that way now!"
Paul Goodman (1911-1972) Author and sociologist.

Kind of obvious, right? Yet sometimes I'm oblivious to even the simplest things.

speaking of books...

Speaking of books...I've been reading much more than usual lately, especially in my research on the candidates thus far and just generally intriguing things, like the tenets of the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement. Short story: they promote non-reproduction. No babies. Not killing people, just no more babies in the hopes thatwith a slow and gradual die-off (as compared to the drastic extinction event that overpopulating animals in nature suffer) our planet with be able to repair itself and return to it's natural paradise state since all the humans no longer present to fuck it all up. In a nutshell.

I'm not sure if it's serious or not. But even as a satire (though I don't think it is) they've got a point. Which brings me to my next point- I realized while reading their little chart (that presents their responses to common reasons for having children) that I have never in my entire life considered NOT having kids. Not once. Except in horror in some kind of deranged spinster nightmare. Even if I were a lesbian I'd adopt. It's always been treated as an inevitable part of life-but is it? "Go forth and multiply". GOAL MET. I think we covered that one as a planet. So why do we have kids?

My general reasons are 1) I think they'll be really neat people and I can't wait to meet them. Mostly because I like Erich, and I like myself, so it's logical that some kind of combination of us would be something that I like. I'm a nut and he's fun. nut + fun = nutty fun. Funny nut? Something.

2) It seems like to ultimate expression of our love. Or was that the sex? I love Erich so much it's generally assumed that I'll bear a child that will initially make my hips painfully widen, breasts sag, and cause pain so terrible that the mind, according to the women in my family, seems to have developed a natural amnesia to it. Not to mention the common-yet-unexpected dookie. Why don't we ever see that on those natural birth shows where you can see *almost* everything? For the most part they've made me feel more comfortable about the whole thing, but I still think their editing out the dookie. But I digress.

So, the love thing. The VHEMT people (as they call themselves) basically disregard this idea as a selfish -we think we're so great that we bring a new life into the world despite that fact that many of the lives already here are suffering terribly. True. Not that I really think I'm that great. I am, however, okay with them thinking I'm selfish. And to be fair, they did get me considering the issue, and that's what counts.

I want to address the fact that I implied above my body will be ugly after having children. I hear this complaint a lot from women who never lost all their pregnancy weight, or who blame their poor eating habits on the easy availability of their kids' fruit snacks. (Mmmm, high-fructose corn syrup. What's that? You use organic cane sugar? Well, fancy sugar has no calories whatsoever.) American obesity and sedentary lifestyles aside, I think that issue has just as much to do with how we view post-pregnancy bodies as a whole. Just as I object to being expected to shave and starve my body into a pre-pubescent (aka hairless) form, maybe the next step is to start respecting the way healthy, active bodies change after childbearing. What's a stronger act than building a new human being, cell by cell, and bringing them into the world? So why do we shame ourselves for the ways our body strengthens, builds, and delivers this child?

Now this is all easy for me to say, what with my still-a-normal-width feet and my unfertilized eggs running amuck. I guess we'll see. But whose boobs are really that perky to begin with? Sure as hell not mine.

I'm sure that I'll love my children when the time comes, but for now, I'm in no hurry. Sorry Grandpa Bacher. (But don't tell him to read this for pete's sake, he doesn't want to hear about my eggs).

courtesy of Nat: Shape of a Mother

I'll be first to admit that some of these images freak me out a little. I have to deal with body image and weight like most other people (and I say people intentionally). I'm just like everyone else- I expect a body to look like those of the magazines. Models, even the ones in the Dove commercials are exceptionally beautiful to begin with, and then the air-brushing puts them over the top. But that's the whole point! It's like a child who has only eaten junk food growing up picking up a potato or a piece of fruit and calling it gross because it doesn't come in a clean wrapper, and requires some effort to consume. They've never seen the real thing, but what they consider real cannot nourish the body.

new apartment!

Ooh, we applied for our new apartment on garland today! We're planning to meet with the landlord on sunday to have a final look-through and sign the lease! It's got just enough yard space for me to plant a garden this summer, a much larger kitchen and wash/dryer hook-ups. Which means I no longer will need to infringe on other people's yards and laundry rooms! HOORAY!

Imagine now: bright orange couscous, sweet potatoes, and chickpeas with turmeric and other assorted spices. The most orange-y meal ever. (tomato basil couscous, if you were wondering). If only I had a picture!

sticky rice is sticky for a reason

Tonight was leftovers. Which means I throw all the little bits of half-used ingredients together in a pat and saute with something or other. Actually last night was too, meaning I had a stir-fry of leftover tempeh, brussel sprouts, daikon, ginger and spinach. At which Erich complained that he had to cook my plate by smell as he couldn't be convinced to try it. It was actually not bad, the daikon gets a nice sweet flavor when it carmelizes, but the big brussel sprouts were a little out of place. Either way I'm happy to have so many vegetables around, even if I can't buy them from local farmers. If only there was some way to stock up in the summer and save them all. My mom used to store carrots in a bin of sand when she was growing on the farm. If only that worked for everything!

Tonight was leftover brown rice, and more daikon, ginger, and spinach. Again not bad, but not something I'd recreate. I threw some nutritional yeast and hempseeds on just because I have enormous containers of both. (They don't sell either in small portions...hmm, I wonder why? :-) Anyway, so endeth the fridge cleaning mission- tomorow I am definately making a real dinner. Although I still have a bunch of daikon left. Which, by the way, I keep calling a leek and Erich keeps scolding. It's actually taken quite a bit of effort to use it's correct name here. Ha!

Lindsay, I'm officially drinking the vanilla soymilk you left here. But I'll buy you a new one next time I see you. And just for the record, in case anyone was wondering, brown rice does *not* work in sushi. I tried it in place of the sticky rice and now I understand that the stick is an essential component of the whole process. I thought maybe I could get away with it, but no. Maybe if I overcooked it in a pot with too much water, or just picked up the maki and ate it like a hot dog without slicing it. Hmm. You'd have to cover the bottom or... roll it shut! Perfect!

Erich has officially threatened to boycott showering and general hygiene until I shave my armpits. His exact words were "I can stink you out". We'll see about that. He doesn't seem to have noticed the 3-month shadow on my legs. Don't tell him!

de Nadie

de Nadie

I just watched a documentary of sorts about the journey that undocumented immigrants from Central America make through Mexico in search of work through the U.S. Some stay in Mexico and find work there, but some push all the way north. It's harrowing to hear their stories- they're simply trying to feed their families, but situations are so dire that they are willing to risk rape, maiming, robbery and assault (be it by fiercely violent gangs, the police, or the train that many attempt to jump, often severing limbs or killing them if they fall).

The people speak simply, directly. Though often with tears, there's a marked lack of self-pity; for these people, it is what it is, and all they can do is focus on one day at a time. They miss their families, but they're driven by the need to provide for them.

It's so easy to sit back in our comfortable lives and criticize these people for entering the country illegally and say "they should do it though the proper channels". But the economic situations are so dire, that they must feel no other choice than to risk such a dangerous trip. The people interviewed here knew what they were getting into- but they had no other options than to try or to watch their children starve. One particular woman interviewed

One man had an open wound in his stomach from his sternum to pelvis-it had been open so long that the skin would no longer stretch to cover it, and his stomach hung directly out. He wraps it in gauze each day. His can't get the appropriate surgery in his native country.

We saw a lot of the same appalling poverty in Ecuador. The way their poorest live is unfathomable to us. Just as our lives are to them.

The thing that really gets me is that, so often, the people who call for undocumented workers' immediate and complete deportation are the same people waving the ever self-righteous flag of family values. Non sequitur, anyone?