My house currently lacks things like milk, bread, eggs, yogurt... Things that seem like staples. I have a mango, nectarines, peaches, tomatoes, yellow plums, an enormous zucchini, two cucumbers; these seem like luxuries. The same could be true of my life in general.
The security I long for, knowing where my next paycheck is coming from, getting paid holidays and dental and contributions to a pension, are things that seem like staples. I have no problem with collecting cameras, buying fabric in swaths, drinks/dinners with friends, trips to see my family... These are the luxuries in my life. I cannot organise the staples, so rely on the luxuries to make my life feel normal.
I can watch three movies from the library, but I can't pull my shit together enough to go to the grocery store or return my bottles or recycle containers.
I think I'm on the path to becoming an eccentric shut-in. When I mention having to thread through stacks of newspaper and other piles, know that the crazies have taken over.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
good evening ladies and gentlemen and joe
I'm visiting my parents this weekend and wish I could stay a few more days.
This morning we went to OK Falls to check out the flea market. It wasn't very good, very few tables, and the stuff there was wasn't particularly interesting. We drove the back road to Vaseaux Lake and then Tuc El Nuit road to see where my cousins are building a new house. We happened to be sitting at the bottom of the drive and my cousin saw us and waved us in. We had a very short visit and then headed to the Kiwanis flea market, which was pretty awesome. I stopped myself from buying a punch bowl and an enamel pot with lid and plates because I was specifically and only looking for square Pyrex with lids. We drove back toward town and I asked if we could stop by the cemetary because I haven't been there for years and wanted to see where my uncle's headstone was placed. I saw my grandparents' plot and got a little teary when I saw my uncle's. Then I saw that my mom's best friend's plot was just up and over and that made me really teary. I didn't want to spend too much time there because my parents go there fairly often for funerals (the Catholics are very involved with funerals), but would like to go back when I have more time. We popped into the flea market in town and, while there was loads of good dishware, still I had no luck with the square Pyrex.
This afternoon I went to the meat draw with my dad and we sat with his regular crew. I find I have more to talk about with the men than the ladies, but I do really try to talk to the ladies. I saw my friend's dad and had a chat with him and my fake Irish granny popped by to give me a hug and a quick chat. The caller started the draws today with the subject line, a deliberate, though playful, dig at my dad; they tease each other constantly when they see each other, like little kids. My dad and I share a pitcher or two and he gets me some clamato; we went through two today. I wound up winning for the first time in, like, ever and picked out the T-bone steaks for my parents. (I can't take it home, unfortunately, because it won't stay frozen on the bus.) It was pretty great. Then we came home to tacos, and it just reminded me of being a kid and made me so happy.
Even though it's changed so much here, I still can't help but feel like a little kid when I'm here. And I wonder if I'll ever meet someone who will fit into this experience: who will chat with my dad's friends and want to hear stories about what it used to be like here and that will go to yard sales with me and my dad on Saturday mornings and be OK watching HGTV and Food Network shows for hours on end and see my mom's quilting projects. The older I get, the more concerned I get that the one who's meant for me will never know or see this part of me. Because this is the me that explains the adult me.
This morning we went to OK Falls to check out the flea market. It wasn't very good, very few tables, and the stuff there was wasn't particularly interesting. We drove the back road to Vaseaux Lake and then Tuc El Nuit road to see where my cousins are building a new house. We happened to be sitting at the bottom of the drive and my cousin saw us and waved us in. We had a very short visit and then headed to the Kiwanis flea market, which was pretty awesome. I stopped myself from buying a punch bowl and an enamel pot with lid and plates because I was specifically and only looking for square Pyrex with lids. We drove back toward town and I asked if we could stop by the cemetary because I haven't been there for years and wanted to see where my uncle's headstone was placed. I saw my grandparents' plot and got a little teary when I saw my uncle's. Then I saw that my mom's best friend's plot was just up and over and that made me really teary. I didn't want to spend too much time there because my parents go there fairly often for funerals (the Catholics are very involved with funerals), but would like to go back when I have more time. We popped into the flea market in town and, while there was loads of good dishware, still I had no luck with the square Pyrex.
This afternoon I went to the meat draw with my dad and we sat with his regular crew. I find I have more to talk about with the men than the ladies, but I do really try to talk to the ladies. I saw my friend's dad and had a chat with him and my fake Irish granny popped by to give me a hug and a quick chat. The caller started the draws today with the subject line, a deliberate, though playful, dig at my dad; they tease each other constantly when they see each other, like little kids. My dad and I share a pitcher or two and he gets me some clamato; we went through two today. I wound up winning for the first time in, like, ever and picked out the T-bone steaks for my parents. (I can't take it home, unfortunately, because it won't stay frozen on the bus.) It was pretty great. Then we came home to tacos, and it just reminded me of being a kid and made me so happy.
Even though it's changed so much here, I still can't help but feel like a little kid when I'm here. And I wonder if I'll ever meet someone who will fit into this experience: who will chat with my dad's friends and want to hear stories about what it used to be like here and that will go to yard sales with me and my dad on Saturday mornings and be OK watching HGTV and Food Network shows for hours on end and see my mom's quilting projects. The older I get, the more concerned I get that the one who's meant for me will never know or see this part of me. Because this is the me that explains the adult me.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
signs, signs
You know how Oprah says something about there being signs that you should make changes to your life and how sometimes it takes really significant signs to make you pay attention... I'm starting to feel like that a little bit.
Working at one of my jobs tonight was one of the weirdest things as of late. I walked in and everything looked brighter (which was actual: they finally replaced a huge number of lightbulbs that were burnt out) and it disoriented me a little. Then I started to get a recap on what's been happening the last few weeks since I last worked. The place is going to pot. I'd be surprised if I even get work there again. Poor management/minion relations on the floor I work on, much worse than when my previous manager was here (she's one of my references and is incredibly awesome) and I could actually get shifts. And with all the provincial funding cuts to libraries, and most likely cuts from the municipal government's funding for the library, chances are I'll be looking for as many additional jobs as I can get. This fall I will have three and it won't be enough.
So... is this my latest sign that I don't belong here? A big FUCK YOU from some higher power? Because I'm freaking out how little I'll be making this fall, despite all the jobs. Some sort of miracle needs to happen to make things seem a bit less scary.
Working at one of my jobs tonight was one of the weirdest things as of late. I walked in and everything looked brighter (which was actual: they finally replaced a huge number of lightbulbs that were burnt out) and it disoriented me a little. Then I started to get a recap on what's been happening the last few weeks since I last worked. The place is going to pot. I'd be surprised if I even get work there again. Poor management/minion relations on the floor I work on, much worse than when my previous manager was here (she's one of my references and is incredibly awesome) and I could actually get shifts. And with all the provincial funding cuts to libraries, and most likely cuts from the municipal government's funding for the library, chances are I'll be looking for as many additional jobs as I can get. This fall I will have three and it won't be enough.
So... is this my latest sign that I don't belong here? A big FUCK YOU from some higher power? Because I'm freaking out how little I'll be making this fall, despite all the jobs. Some sort of miracle needs to happen to make things seem a bit less scary.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
the ugly
How is it possible there are still beauty pageants? Miss Universe is on and it's a total joke. How does wearing a bathing suit and an evening gown make you Miss Universe? How does being skinny and pretty measure anything of importance? Wouldn't it just be better to watch a fashion show and forget about the "competition" part of things?
I feel so bad for the girls that get marked low for the walk up and down the runway. Do they watch it after the show and see how low they got marked? And they're getting marked specifically on what other people have done to them: picked their clothes, did their hair and makeup, taught them how to walk... Like a dress-up doll.
If I were model thin and fantastically gorgeous, would I think it's less stupid to be judged by looks?
I feel so bad for the girls that get marked low for the walk up and down the runway. Do they watch it after the show and see how low they got marked? And they're getting marked specifically on what other people have done to them: picked their clothes, did their hair and makeup, taught them how to walk... Like a dress-up doll.
If I were model thin and fantastically gorgeous, would I think it's less stupid to be judged by looks?
Saturday, August 22, 2009
winding down
Today I decided to ride the Canada Line, to see how it is and to head to #3 Rd Superstore. I have to admit... it's pretty nice. Super wide cars, stations that feel like mass transit stations, quick and smooth. It will make getting to the airport a lot easier, so long as I can get to one of those stations; those are a ways away.
I stopped in at the Salvation Army shop and found a nice mid-sized platter. It matches the dishes I favour and could be incentive for dinner parties (if ever I clear off my dining table again). I picked up a few tops and cardis at Superstore, which I'm sure is terrible of me, but I'm too economical sometimes. I go to the #3 Rd one because it's the biggest selection in the area and is its own store within the store. Lots of fun stuff. My ticket ran out, so I wandered into the Landsdowne Winners. I found some shoes for work and a pair of waterproof boots that could probably be helpful for Burnaby Mountain as the weather worsens this fall/winter. The airport route will have to wait a couple weeks for when I actually have to go there.
There's a pan of blackberry brownies cooling on the counter for brunch tomorrow. I went out picking with Rachel, Augusten and Lily yesterday and I picked about 2 litres from our favourite spot. I just keep jamming stuff into the freezer and hoping it stays frozen. People keep saying I should make jam, but I rarely use jam as it is and I'm not sure making jam is going to change that. I only just tucked into the peach jam I made over the long weekend, and can't imagine I'll be going through it very quickly.
It really feels like summer is ending. I'm starting to feel the weight of Deborah Kerr's words: "Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories." At this point I can only hope that I've squirrelled enough memories away to see me through. I have a sinking feeling I haven't.
I stopped in at the Salvation Army shop and found a nice mid-sized platter. It matches the dishes I favour and could be incentive for dinner parties (if ever I clear off my dining table again). I picked up a few tops and cardis at Superstore, which I'm sure is terrible of me, but I'm too economical sometimes. I go to the #3 Rd one because it's the biggest selection in the area and is its own store within the store. Lots of fun stuff. My ticket ran out, so I wandered into the Landsdowne Winners. I found some shoes for work and a pair of waterproof boots that could probably be helpful for Burnaby Mountain as the weather worsens this fall/winter. The airport route will have to wait a couple weeks for when I actually have to go there.
There's a pan of blackberry brownies cooling on the counter for brunch tomorrow. I went out picking with Rachel, Augusten and Lily yesterday and I picked about 2 litres from our favourite spot. I just keep jamming stuff into the freezer and hoping it stays frozen. People keep saying I should make jam, but I rarely use jam as it is and I'm not sure making jam is going to change that. I only just tucked into the peach jam I made over the long weekend, and can't imagine I'll be going through it very quickly.
It really feels like summer is ending. I'm starting to feel the weight of Deborah Kerr's words: "Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories." At this point I can only hope that I've squirrelled enough memories away to see me through. I have a sinking feeling I haven't.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
muffin vs. cupcake
What's the difference between a muffin and a cupcake? Does a muffin become a cupcake with icing on it? Does it depend on whether or not fruits or vegetables are in them? I've got a collection of icingless muffins/cupcakes in my freezer and on my counter right now.
I've run out of flour, or else I'd have buttermilk biscuits and rootbeer cupcakes to add to the collection. That's tomorrow night's plan, or Saturday night's, probably.
The last couple of days I've been baking to counter the sort of low-grade uncomfortable crap that tends to pop up every so often. You know the sort: bad review at work, realising you put the wrong address on a resume, gaining weight unexpectedly before having to fit into a dress. Just stuff that doesn't make you feel very good, but that can probably be countered with explaining or a quick anorexic diet. Pretty sure baking will help with that.
Yesterday it started with banana cake made with buttermilk, which actually makes me think about keeping buttermilk at all times. It has a nice little hint of salt to counter the sweetness/sourness. Then cocoa banana cupcakes (I think the recipe claims these are muffins, but, for all intents and purposes, they're cupcakes) that makes such a pretty, fluffy batter and makes about 18. Then I tried a new recipe for peach cupcakes. This let me finally use the rest of the peaches from the packing house (though I froze enough for another batch when the weather turns and my freezer starts to empty) and try another buttermilk recipe. They are very airy and not too sweet. Today I made carrot cake cupcakes (new recipe), which are really fantastic with lots of walnuts (my addition) and are the best carrot cake cupcakes I've ever had. Really. That brings my total of cupcakes/muffins to about 5 dozen.
(I also used the grater plate on my food processor for the first time since I got it about 13 years ago. Thank goodness I kept all those attachments. I love the grater. So easy and painless and bloodless. The only appliance I would love more than my food processor, maybe, is a stand mixer with multiple attachments. Swoon. But I can't believe how smart I was to ask for a food processor for Christmas when I was a poor student.)
I really need an apartment-sized deep freeze for baking. And tomorrow I'm picking blackberries again. Where the hell am I going to put those? Time to re-organise the freezer. What a party I am: planning to organise my freezer and bake on weekend nights.
I've run out of flour, or else I'd have buttermilk biscuits and rootbeer cupcakes to add to the collection. That's tomorrow night's plan, or Saturday night's, probably.
The last couple of days I've been baking to counter the sort of low-grade uncomfortable crap that tends to pop up every so often. You know the sort: bad review at work, realising you put the wrong address on a resume, gaining weight unexpectedly before having to fit into a dress. Just stuff that doesn't make you feel very good, but that can probably be countered with explaining or a quick anorexic diet. Pretty sure baking will help with that.
Yesterday it started with banana cake made with buttermilk, which actually makes me think about keeping buttermilk at all times. It has a nice little hint of salt to counter the sweetness/sourness. Then cocoa banana cupcakes (I think the recipe claims these are muffins, but, for all intents and purposes, they're cupcakes) that makes such a pretty, fluffy batter and makes about 18. Then I tried a new recipe for peach cupcakes. This let me finally use the rest of the peaches from the packing house (though I froze enough for another batch when the weather turns and my freezer starts to empty) and try another buttermilk recipe. They are very airy and not too sweet. Today I made carrot cake cupcakes (new recipe), which are really fantastic with lots of walnuts (my addition) and are the best carrot cake cupcakes I've ever had. Really. That brings my total of cupcakes/muffins to about 5 dozen.
(I also used the grater plate on my food processor for the first time since I got it about 13 years ago. Thank goodness I kept all those attachments. I love the grater. So easy and painless and bloodless. The only appliance I would love more than my food processor, maybe, is a stand mixer with multiple attachments. Swoon. But I can't believe how smart I was to ask for a food processor for Christmas when I was a poor student.)
I really need an apartment-sized deep freeze for baking. And tomorrow I'm picking blackberries again. Where the hell am I going to put those? Time to re-organise the freezer. What a party I am: planning to organise my freezer and bake on weekend nights.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
after the boys of summer are gone
Feeling like summer is getting away from me, this weekend I really tried to pack in summery stuff. I totally need a nap.
Friday morning I went to the bank to sort out my money, which always takes longer than it seems like it should. I went into my safety deposit to deposit safely some stuff around the house. (Nothing makes me feel more responsible and adult-like than having a safety deposit box.) After I got out of there, I took the longest bus ride from Oakridge to the library and wished the new train line were open days earlier; the bus was packed at 11am. I picked up a hold and headed to Burnaby to visit my friend Sara. We had tea and scones fresh out of the oven, and picked blackberries down the street from her house. It was quite lovely.
(I seriously have no room in my freezer right now, but will be picking more berries next Friday and will freeze some nectarines and plums in the next couple of weeks. I need to design a system for better freezer storage. Or find an apartment-sized deep freeze that will fit in my closet and cost virtually nothing to run.)
I made plans to meet up with a few friends in the evening, so headed to the Black Frog for $4 beer and chatted with some surprise appearances who happened to be there at the same time for a different function, and my friend and his wife popped down as well. So fun. I got home and met up with my visiting friend David, chatted a bit, and then I went to bed, totally exhausted.
Saturday David and I went to Trout Lake to pick up my (our) friends' CSA pack for the week and then headed over to 4th Ave for Hippie Day, the annual street festival. With this being the 40th anniversary, it seemed quite a bit bigger than previous years. We hung out around the Zulu stage all day, watching Apollo Ghosts, Ora Cogan, The Evaporators and Rose Melberg. We met up with David's friends Sue (who is always great to see) and Alana (we bump into each other occasionally), and later my friend Rachel and her friend Pam. Then my friend Joe popped by with iodine eyes (eye check-up just before coming down, complete with those weird slide shades they give you when you don't have sunglasses) and I bumped into Glenn. It was very fun, but tiring a bit and we kept forgetting to eat. David and I hightailed it back to mine to meet Rich, Christy and Alf so we could head over to the baseball game. It was pretty slow, with the Canadians having a great 3rd inning and then nothing until the 9th when they were behind by one and got an out on a terrible attempt to steal home rather than filling the bases. They wound up getting two good hits to fill the bases and get in a run. The final hitter batted a double, sending two runs home and winning the game, complete with team dogpile on the field. Then the fireworks started and that was pretty good. We walked back toward my house and discussed going to the Legion for post-drinks. David went to meet his friend at a dance party and the rest of us drank $3.25 bottles of Pil and lamented the karaoke hostess only played the regulars' songs. Then we went back to mine and wound up talking until after 2am, drinking the mead I'd been storing in my fridge and eating cookies to commemorate Rich's birthday on Friday.
This morning we met up with Stewart and Alana and, later, Linh for brunch at Nice Cafe. It was a good end to the weekend's event. Today I'm trying to clean up a bit, do some laundry and maybe do some sewing with the windows open. I'm meeting up with Eileen and Lynn and our friend Shirin for okonomiyaki tonight, so I'm pretty jazzed for that. I also bought the makings for root beer floats because it was on my list of things to do this summer and it hasn't happened, so... it's going to happen. Wanna come 'round for a rootbeer float before the summer ends?
Friday morning I went to the bank to sort out my money, which always takes longer than it seems like it should. I went into my safety deposit to deposit safely some stuff around the house. (Nothing makes me feel more responsible and adult-like than having a safety deposit box.) After I got out of there, I took the longest bus ride from Oakridge to the library and wished the new train line were open days earlier; the bus was packed at 11am. I picked up a hold and headed to Burnaby to visit my friend Sara. We had tea and scones fresh out of the oven, and picked blackberries down the street from her house. It was quite lovely.
(I seriously have no room in my freezer right now, but will be picking more berries next Friday and will freeze some nectarines and plums in the next couple of weeks. I need to design a system for better freezer storage. Or find an apartment-sized deep freeze that will fit in my closet and cost virtually nothing to run.)
I made plans to meet up with a few friends in the evening, so headed to the Black Frog for $4 beer and chatted with some surprise appearances who happened to be there at the same time for a different function, and my friend and his wife popped down as well. So fun. I got home and met up with my visiting friend David, chatted a bit, and then I went to bed, totally exhausted.
Saturday David and I went to Trout Lake to pick up my (our) friends' CSA pack for the week and then headed over to 4th Ave for Hippie Day, the annual street festival. With this being the 40th anniversary, it seemed quite a bit bigger than previous years. We hung out around the Zulu stage all day, watching Apollo Ghosts, Ora Cogan, The Evaporators and Rose Melberg. We met up with David's friends Sue (who is always great to see) and Alana (we bump into each other occasionally), and later my friend Rachel and her friend Pam. Then my friend Joe popped by with iodine eyes (eye check-up just before coming down, complete with those weird slide shades they give you when you don't have sunglasses) and I bumped into Glenn. It was very fun, but tiring a bit and we kept forgetting to eat. David and I hightailed it back to mine to meet Rich, Christy and Alf so we could head over to the baseball game. It was pretty slow, with the Canadians having a great 3rd inning and then nothing until the 9th when they were behind by one and got an out on a terrible attempt to steal home rather than filling the bases. They wound up getting two good hits to fill the bases and get in a run. The final hitter batted a double, sending two runs home and winning the game, complete with team dogpile on the field. Then the fireworks started and that was pretty good. We walked back toward my house and discussed going to the Legion for post-drinks. David went to meet his friend at a dance party and the rest of us drank $3.25 bottles of Pil and lamented the karaoke hostess only played the regulars' songs. Then we went back to mine and wound up talking until after 2am, drinking the mead I'd been storing in my fridge and eating cookies to commemorate Rich's birthday on Friday.
This morning we met up with Stewart and Alana and, later, Linh for brunch at Nice Cafe. It was a good end to the weekend's event. Today I'm trying to clean up a bit, do some laundry and maybe do some sewing with the windows open. I'm meeting up with Eileen and Lynn and our friend Shirin for okonomiyaki tonight, so I'm pretty jazzed for that. I also bought the makings for root beer floats because it was on my list of things to do this summer and it hasn't happened, so... it's going to happen. Wanna come 'round for a rootbeer float before the summer ends?
Friday, August 14, 2009
dated
One of the craft blogs I regularly read had a frightening book on display this week, Crochet adorned. I mean, it seems to have cute things from the blog review photos, but I wonder if this book now looks like all those weird crochet books from the 1970s did then. Is it modern eyes that make this book look OK? Would crocheted earrings and crocheted trim on a coat still be considered cute in a couple years? In ten years? In thirty years?
I guess this is why I like cookbooks. Most of them don't seem to date as badly as other types of books (unless you're talking about anything jelly-molded or created with aspic; there's nothing that dates a book faster than those things, especially with full-colour accompanying photos). The hundreds of books I've discarded at the library, many from the '70s and '80s, had dreadful covers that probably looked old after a year or so. Anytime you put clothing on the cover it limits the shelf life of a book. Which is why romance novels hold up so well...
Seriously, what were people thinking crocheting shit like this?! It boggles the mind.
I guess this is why I like cookbooks. Most of them don't seem to date as badly as other types of books (unless you're talking about anything jelly-molded or created with aspic; there's nothing that dates a book faster than those things, especially with full-colour accompanying photos). The hundreds of books I've discarded at the library, many from the '70s and '80s, had dreadful covers that probably looked old after a year or so. Anytime you put clothing on the cover it limits the shelf life of a book. Which is why romance novels hold up so well...
Seriously, what were people thinking crocheting shit like this?! It boggles the mind.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
hitting the mark
Just pulled some salty chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. I'm trying something new with these that I read somewhere. I let the dough sit in the fridge for 12 hours to let the dough dry out a bit. Ideally the dough should sit something like 36 hours, but I'm unwilling to wait that long for cookies. Ever. They don't seem that much different than usual, but will wait until they cool down to decide for sure.
Feels like forever since I last wrote. For some, probably not long enough, but I question why you're reading at all then.
I tried to see "Julie & Julia" last week, but it was a struggle. After hanging out with the FairSands (blackberry picking included), I headed to Fifth Ave, thinking I would have loads of time if I got there half-an-hour before the screening. Ya, right. Totally sold out. I just headed home, stopping to pick up Nick Malgieri's awesome The modern baker. (I realise I talk about this book a lot, but I HIGHLY recommend it if you enjoy turning on your oven at all. I even bought yeast for the first time EVER to attempt yeast bread. Borrow it from the library ASAP.)
Saturday after work I intended to go to the movie, but after speaking with my friend Sara, decided to hold off to go with her on Sunday after she finished work. Instead, I went to Valentino: the Last Emperor finally. It was so amazing, and I couldn't help but develop the hugest crush on Giancarlo Giammetti. This makes me so excited about The September issue when it opens in Canada later this fall. Dream job: working for a clothing museum as a librarian, mounting shows and compiling exhibition catalogues. How awesome would that be? So awesome.
I met up with Sara and then Aaron, stopping at the bookstore and then for a quick bite at Guu. We were all pretty excited about the movie and I couldn't stop being a nerd when they talked about the index in The joy of cooking. I loved Meryl Streep as Julia Child; did not love Amy Adams as Julie Powell. I would have liked the person who played her friend to actually be her; she was a bit more colourful. The movie picked uninteresting meltdowns to focus on. Where was the meltdown during the clogged up sink? No mention of having to order pizza after disasters. Sigh. Still, it's likely the sort of movie I will want to have in my collection for those days that I need something related to stuff I like. (Others in this collection: Breakfast at Tiffany's, Amelie, Pretty in pink... I would add Pret a porter and Issac Mizrahi's Unzipped if I could find them, perhaps Fashion show and Desk set and Party girl. Actually, all of those would be splendid. Yes, yes, splendid.)
Glenn, the peach, picked up the 1975 edition of The joy of cooking while he was at Powell's last week. The index is amazing; 63 pages! Swoon!
Feels like forever since I last wrote. For some, probably not long enough, but I question why you're reading at all then.
I tried to see "Julie & Julia" last week, but it was a struggle. After hanging out with the FairSands (blackberry picking included), I headed to Fifth Ave, thinking I would have loads of time if I got there half-an-hour before the screening. Ya, right. Totally sold out. I just headed home, stopping to pick up Nick Malgieri's awesome The modern baker. (I realise I talk about this book a lot, but I HIGHLY recommend it if you enjoy turning on your oven at all. I even bought yeast for the first time EVER to attempt yeast bread. Borrow it from the library ASAP.)
Saturday after work I intended to go to the movie, but after speaking with my friend Sara, decided to hold off to go with her on Sunday after she finished work. Instead, I went to Valentino: the Last Emperor finally. It was so amazing, and I couldn't help but develop the hugest crush on Giancarlo Giammetti. This makes me so excited about The September issue when it opens in Canada later this fall. Dream job: working for a clothing museum as a librarian, mounting shows and compiling exhibition catalogues. How awesome would that be? So awesome.
I met up with Sara and then Aaron, stopping at the bookstore and then for a quick bite at Guu. We were all pretty excited about the movie and I couldn't stop being a nerd when they talked about the index in The joy of cooking. I loved Meryl Streep as Julia Child; did not love Amy Adams as Julie Powell. I would have liked the person who played her friend to actually be her; she was a bit more colourful. The movie picked uninteresting meltdowns to focus on. Where was the meltdown during the clogged up sink? No mention of having to order pizza after disasters. Sigh. Still, it's likely the sort of movie I will want to have in my collection for those days that I need something related to stuff I like. (Others in this collection: Breakfast at Tiffany's, Amelie, Pretty in pink... I would add Pret a porter and Issac Mizrahi's Unzipped if I could find them, perhaps Fashion show and Desk set and Party girl. Actually, all of those would be splendid. Yes, yes, splendid.)
Glenn, the peach, picked up the 1975 edition of The joy of cooking while he was at Powell's last week. The index is amazing; 63 pages! Swoon!
Friday, August 7, 2009
buttering up
Julie & Julia opens today. I am so fricking excited about this and have my day plotted out so I can see it this evening. Even though I read the novel a couple of years ago, I never thought to get Mastering the art of French cooking before now. Stupid, stupid, stupid. To buy used copies will run me about $60 if I'm lucky. And there's no way I can personally pay money for a book that has Meryl Streep on the cover as Julia Child. As much as I like Meryl Streep, that's just sacrilege.
Sometimes I feel like I picked the wrong career. The process of cooking/baking is so therapeutic and is one of the only times I'm not lashing out or being sulky. But then I remember that cooking for a living forces you to be around other people and then I'm happy it isn't my job. Being around all those knives with yelling co-workers...
I need to roast a chicken massaged with butter soon.
Sometimes I feel like I picked the wrong career. The process of cooking/baking is so therapeutic and is one of the only times I'm not lashing out or being sulky. But then I remember that cooking for a living forces you to be around other people and then I'm happy it isn't my job. Being around all those knives with yelling co-workers...
I need to roast a chicken massaged with butter soon.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
unfriendliness
Often I go through stages when I feel like I'm a terrible friend. It happens more frequently at certain times of the year, but generally doesn't happen in the summer. This summer is nothing but being a shitty friend.
One consolation for these feelings of inadequacy is that I know certain people like me quite a lot and have for a long time. My oldest friend I've known since we were 3-years-old in Storytime at the library. We can go months without speaking, yet when we do talk it's like no time has passed. This evening I got to talk with my friend who I used to live beside. We haven't spoken for a couple of years (just occasional emails), but it was easy to catch up and there wasn't a second that we didn't have things to say. Conversations like this makes me feel less shitty.
I really rely on easygoing friends because I'm so out of my head sometimes and forget that I shouldn't be a shitty friend. The friends I've had longterm similarly like having low maintenance friends because we all seem to go through stages of availability. I realise this implies I can be low maintenance; even I have (rare) moments of not being crazy.
The remaining part of the summer I'll endeavour to be less shitty. It will be a stretch; it's so out of my character.
One consolation for these feelings of inadequacy is that I know certain people like me quite a lot and have for a long time. My oldest friend I've known since we were 3-years-old in Storytime at the library. We can go months without speaking, yet when we do talk it's like no time has passed. This evening I got to talk with my friend who I used to live beside. We haven't spoken for a couple of years (just occasional emails), but it was easy to catch up and there wasn't a second that we didn't have things to say. Conversations like this makes me feel less shitty.
I really rely on easygoing friends because I'm so out of my head sometimes and forget that I shouldn't be a shitty friend. The friends I've had longterm similarly like having low maintenance friends because we all seem to go through stages of availability. I realise this implies I can be low maintenance; even I have (rare) moments of not being crazy.
The remaining part of the summer I'll endeavour to be less shitty. It will be a stretch; it's so out of my character.
Monday, August 3, 2009
homebound
My iPod seemed to be loaded with songs that talked to me. Even the radio spoke to me a bit; I think Bryan Adams had a premonition about me when he wrote "Run To You" (though, obviously, not ABOUT me, since I've never had relations with Bryan Adams, as far as I can remember). It's challenging listening to music with another person when that person doesn't know any of the music at all, except the crap on the radio only for the first or last 2 hours of a 5 hour trip (or 5 3/4 hour if you leave on a Friday afternoon of a long weekend).
Last weekend I went to visit my parents with my sister. My brother headed down as well, so it was a mini family reunion. We all get together only a few times a year. This is the first time I've had a long weekend off in the summer in ages; it just never happens. With my parents' trip to the Holy Land over Thanksgiving, it will be the last time we're together until Christmas. (My brother was shocked to find he'd be on his own for Thanksgiving; not sure how my sister and I knew about the trip and he didn't, since it's the most major thing my parents have planned ever and he sees them more often.)
While home I got to visit with a couple of aunts and cousins and spoke to a few family friends I don't see very often. Lots of hugging, which I like. It's somewhat ego boosting being home because people there seem to compliment me more than anywhere else. The ladies at the church breakfast thought I looked like I lost weight and complimented the dress I made. Even if it's a wee lie I still appreciate it.
One of my favourite things to do is to ride around the golf course with my dad on the golf cart. The desert holes (the additional 18 holes that bring it up to a 36 hole course) stretch out into the desert (which should be pretty obvious) and we look for golf balls out of bounds. It's pretty fun and this time my sister came with us, which made for a squishy ride. My dad and I also went to a few yard sales and I picked up two Pyrex dishes, a milk glass vase and an awesome kitchen scale, all for $1.75. Sweet. We also went to the meat draw on Saturday and won nothing, but drank a couple jugs of beer with clamato.
My mom and I did a fair bit of bonding as well. I made some peach jam (it didn't gel very well, but had no added pectin) and we worked on a special project together (she cut, I ironed and handstitched). She is very sweet and picked up peaches from the packing house ($0.60/lb) and got some apricots from family friends for us to bring back. I did a mini digital camera tutorial with her so she gets comfortable with it before their trip. My parents are pretty great.
Oh, and it was around 39'C everyday. I find this mildly amusing. Most people who live there have some sort of air conditioning system (my parents have central) and those that don't I don't know because everybody I know there has been there enough years to realise it's necessary. How do people camp there in tents? No idea. We didn't make it to the lake, but I did walk around with bare feet outside on the grass, something I can't do in Vancouver. I'm hoping to get back once more this summer, preferably when nectarines are ready.
I remember when I couldn't wait to get away from there; now I can't leave without feeling nostalgic for all that it was.
Last weekend I went to visit my parents with my sister. My brother headed down as well, so it was a mini family reunion. We all get together only a few times a year. This is the first time I've had a long weekend off in the summer in ages; it just never happens. With my parents' trip to the Holy Land over Thanksgiving, it will be the last time we're together until Christmas. (My brother was shocked to find he'd be on his own for Thanksgiving; not sure how my sister and I knew about the trip and he didn't, since it's the most major thing my parents have planned ever and he sees them more often.)
While home I got to visit with a couple of aunts and cousins and spoke to a few family friends I don't see very often. Lots of hugging, which I like. It's somewhat ego boosting being home because people there seem to compliment me more than anywhere else. The ladies at the church breakfast thought I looked like I lost weight and complimented the dress I made. Even if it's a wee lie I still appreciate it.
One of my favourite things to do is to ride around the golf course with my dad on the golf cart. The desert holes (the additional 18 holes that bring it up to a 36 hole course) stretch out into the desert (which should be pretty obvious) and we look for golf balls out of bounds. It's pretty fun and this time my sister came with us, which made for a squishy ride. My dad and I also went to a few yard sales and I picked up two Pyrex dishes, a milk glass vase and an awesome kitchen scale, all for $1.75. Sweet. We also went to the meat draw on Saturday and won nothing, but drank a couple jugs of beer with clamato.
My mom and I did a fair bit of bonding as well. I made some peach jam (it didn't gel very well, but had no added pectin) and we worked on a special project together (she cut, I ironed and handstitched). She is very sweet and picked up peaches from the packing house ($0.60/lb) and got some apricots from family friends for us to bring back. I did a mini digital camera tutorial with her so she gets comfortable with it before their trip. My parents are pretty great.Oh, and it was around 39'C everyday. I find this mildly amusing. Most people who live there have some sort of air conditioning system (my parents have central) and those that don't I don't know because everybody I know there has been there enough years to realise it's necessary. How do people camp there in tents? No idea. We didn't make it to the lake, but I did walk around with bare feet outside on the grass, something I can't do in Vancouver. I'm hoping to get back once more this summer, preferably when nectarines are ready.
I remember when I couldn't wait to get away from there; now I can't leave without feeling nostalgic for all that it was.
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