"Love is real...Real is love."
I was planning on posting last night, but instead made dinner with Dianne and my brother and watched episodes of Dexter. We made a delicious meal, with sides of carrots, couscous, and a dish we’ve decided to refer to as “Amanda and Dianne Make Love to a Chicken…Classily.”
--Food Erotica Begins--
We started by chopping up and sautéing half an onion, a whole green pepper, one clove of garlic, and about a teaspoon or two of fresh ginger in a large pan with butter, oil, salt, garam masala, curry powder, black pepper (just a dash), red pepper flakes, and lots of honey. Then, when the peppers and onions had gotten soft, we threw in a hefty portion of low-fat vanilla yogurt, stirred, threw in the chicken, and cooked it on a simmer for about a half an hour. Then, we rotated the chicken again, ladled out some of the fat and delicious, delicious liquid, and threw in half a handful of flour to thicken the remaining liquid a bit. Then we simmered, rotated, and prepped our sides (Dianne also fried up the chicken skins in garlic salt and honey, which was so unhealthy and wonderful, I’m probably more ashamed of eating them than I’ve been over any sexual encounter I’ve ever had…) added a pinch more red pepper, and feasted. It was the moistest chicken I’ve ever made.
--Food Erotica Ends-
My whole house has wifi now. I’m not terribly certain that’s a good thing.
Finished a few good books over the past few days - “My Stroke of Genius”, “Palimpsest”, and “SUM: Forty Tales from the Afterlife” being a few of note - the rest all being Tao-related.
Still no license, and I had to re-take my permit test. Passed the damn thing by the skin of my teeth - most questions seemed to be about fines and penalties involved with drag racing. Thank God that my multiple-choice skills are still intact from the days of SAT’s and MCAS tests.
------
Monday I went with my brother and a couple of friends to help Dianne move into her Providence apartment. Short trip, but really nice. A reminder again that the summer is winding down, and most of my friends will be leaving soon, and I’ll be still waddling around here like a duck with clipped wings. I’m not too down about it, mostly because I’ll be keeping busy here with my own projects, and having the time to think away from Oberlin will, I am convinced, do me some good.
The ride down gave me too much time to think, and mull over the following:
-that I wouldn’t be going back to school in the fall.
-that I still don’t know what the hell I’d be going back to accomplish, if/when I do go back.
- that I still don’t feel like I’ve done anything by being at home except regress.
-that I’m going to fall into an unproductive, distracting romantic relationship while I’m home.
-that none of my battles have been very challenging, or nearly as hard as those of the people around me, and I can’t understand why I can’t even fight my on battles anymore.
All the demons tongue-tied me and left me silent the whole ride to RI.
-------
After unpacking, Dianne took us around Providence, which turned out to be full of good food and hipsters, both of which tend to make me feel at home. We wandered into this New Age/Import/Clothing store, which was cool and thick with the smell of spices. Silk dresses and bellydance outfits lined the walls, and the music was the pan-flute based stuff I tend to roll my eyes at. I was still feeling a little off from the ride in, though, so I was insecurely rolling my eyes at everything, really.
There were some things about the store that caught my attention - the reasonable prices, the pretty fabrics, and the Anti-Shoplifting signs, which stated the following:
“We trust you not to shoplift. There are no cameras in this store. If you cannot afford something, come to the register, and let’s see if we can make a deal.”
It’s strange, but that sign put me instantly at ease in the shop. I actually wanted to track down the owner and thank them for the signs alone.
-------
The man at the register was an older, thin Indian man, looked intently and crossly at his laptop. Apprehensively, I grabbed some sandalwood and clove incense, and headed towards the counter. When I came over, he lit up, and all my anxiety melted away. I told him that he had a really lovely store.
“Well, you’re very lovely, too.”
“OH-um. Thanks!” (mad blushing creeps over my face)
I’d like to note at this point that this man had one of the most piercing gazes I’ve ever encountered - it was a little like looking at the sun, especially in my overly-sensitive state. He then asked me about where I was coming up from, and where I was going to school, surprising me by telling me that Oberlin was one of the best schools he knew of-
“Yeah. It’s a great school. I-uh-I just wish I could’ve come into it with more of a sense about what I wanted from it. I’ve been feeling a lot like I’m wasting - “
“Nonononononono. No. What are you interested in?”
“Oh, uh-psychology? Writing? Politics? P-“
“Good - you should be exploring right now. Keep doing that. And don’t be so harsh on yourself. When a little girl, little boy, says they want to be a fireman one day, and then they next day, they want to be an astronaut, do you tell them, ‘Make up your mind already! You’ve only got so much time left!’?”
(I can’t really maintain eye contact with him, but make furtive glances, shake my head and smile)
"Well, so don’t do that. And, you should sit down with each of these things - you should sit down, and when you start thinking about, say, Politics, start writing about it, stat having a conversation with yourself about this. And, with each thing, try having a longer and longer conversation with yourself about these things.”
(I continue nodding, looking away. It feels like someone has applied Icy Hot to my face.)
“And don’t be so harsh on yourself. Don’t. Okay?”
“mhm.”
“What is your name?”
“Amanda.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Amanda. I’m Jagdish.
“Nice to meet you, Jagdish.”
He then told Dianne, who’d just come over, that anyone who was moving into the area and visited his shop received a peacock feather, so he handed her one before we left. Blushing and full of muddy-thoughts, I made my purchase, thanked him profusely and left.
------
For most of the rest of the day, I was out of sorts, and still am, kind of. I’m still thinking about what he said, and about kindness in general-in being kind and guiding and supportive to the people around me. It’s one of the things I most admire in people, when I see them display that kindness, effortlessly, automatically. I aim to show the people around me the same kind of thoughtless kindness.
The two secret jobs I’ve wanted to do ever since reading about them: 1. Namer (from A Wrinkle in Time) - Someone who can bring out the true nature of the people around themselves, “name” them, and dispel the ugly things within those people that are keeping them from being themselves. 2. Muse- which seems very close to being a Namer, except that you also encourage people to express that self, and pay much more attention to the world around them.
Kind of unfortunate that they aren’t really the kinds of jobs you go to grad school for…or get paid a living wage for, for that matter.
Ah, well. Guess I'm stuck just aiming for a degree in...well, something...and trying to spread the love.
Love,
a
--Food Erotica Begins--
We started by chopping up and sautéing half an onion, a whole green pepper, one clove of garlic, and about a teaspoon or two of fresh ginger in a large pan with butter, oil, salt, garam masala, curry powder, black pepper (just a dash), red pepper flakes, and lots of honey. Then, when the peppers and onions had gotten soft, we threw in a hefty portion of low-fat vanilla yogurt, stirred, threw in the chicken, and cooked it on a simmer for about a half an hour. Then, we rotated the chicken again, ladled out some of the fat and delicious, delicious liquid, and threw in half a handful of flour to thicken the remaining liquid a bit. Then we simmered, rotated, and prepped our sides (Dianne also fried up the chicken skins in garlic salt and honey, which was so unhealthy and wonderful, I’m probably more ashamed of eating them than I’ve been over any sexual encounter I’ve ever had…) added a pinch more red pepper, and feasted. It was the moistest chicken I’ve ever made.
--Food Erotica Ends-
My whole house has wifi now. I’m not terribly certain that’s a good thing.
Finished a few good books over the past few days - “My Stroke of Genius”, “Palimpsest”, and “SUM: Forty Tales from the Afterlife” being a few of note - the rest all being Tao-related.
Still no license, and I had to re-take my permit test. Passed the damn thing by the skin of my teeth - most questions seemed to be about fines and penalties involved with drag racing. Thank God that my multiple-choice skills are still intact from the days of SAT’s and MCAS tests.
------
Monday I went with my brother and a couple of friends to help Dianne move into her Providence apartment. Short trip, but really nice. A reminder again that the summer is winding down, and most of my friends will be leaving soon, and I’ll be still waddling around here like a duck with clipped wings. I’m not too down about it, mostly because I’ll be keeping busy here with my own projects, and having the time to think away from Oberlin will, I am convinced, do me some good.
The ride down gave me too much time to think, and mull over the following:
-that I wouldn’t be going back to school in the fall.
-that I still don’t know what the hell I’d be going back to accomplish, if/when I do go back.
- that I still don’t feel like I’ve done anything by being at home except regress.
-that I’m going to fall into an unproductive, distracting romantic relationship while I’m home.
-that none of my battles have been very challenging, or nearly as hard as those of the people around me, and I can’t understand why I can’t even fight my on battles anymore.
All the demons tongue-tied me and left me silent the whole ride to RI.
-------
After unpacking, Dianne took us around Providence, which turned out to be full of good food and hipsters, both of which tend to make me feel at home. We wandered into this New Age/Import/Clothing store, which was cool and thick with the smell of spices. Silk dresses and bellydance outfits lined the walls, and the music was the pan-flute based stuff I tend to roll my eyes at. I was still feeling a little off from the ride in, though, so I was insecurely rolling my eyes at everything, really.
There were some things about the store that caught my attention - the reasonable prices, the pretty fabrics, and the Anti-Shoplifting signs, which stated the following:
“We trust you not to shoplift. There are no cameras in this store. If you cannot afford something, come to the register, and let’s see if we can make a deal.”
It’s strange, but that sign put me instantly at ease in the shop. I actually wanted to track down the owner and thank them for the signs alone.
-------
The man at the register was an older, thin Indian man, looked intently and crossly at his laptop. Apprehensively, I grabbed some sandalwood and clove incense, and headed towards the counter. When I came over, he lit up, and all my anxiety melted away. I told him that he had a really lovely store.
“Well, you’re very lovely, too.”
“OH-um. Thanks!” (mad blushing creeps over my face)
I’d like to note at this point that this man had one of the most piercing gazes I’ve ever encountered - it was a little like looking at the sun, especially in my overly-sensitive state. He then asked me about where I was coming up from, and where I was going to school, surprising me by telling me that Oberlin was one of the best schools he knew of-
“Yeah. It’s a great school. I-uh-I just wish I could’ve come into it with more of a sense about what I wanted from it. I’ve been feeling a lot like I’m wasting - “
“Nonononononono. No. What are you interested in?”
“Oh, uh-psychology? Writing? Politics? P-“
“Good - you should be exploring right now. Keep doing that. And don’t be so harsh on yourself. When a little girl, little boy, says they want to be a fireman one day, and then they next day, they want to be an astronaut, do you tell them, ‘Make up your mind already! You’ve only got so much time left!’?”
(I can’t really maintain eye contact with him, but make furtive glances, shake my head and smile)
"Well, so don’t do that. And, you should sit down with each of these things - you should sit down, and when you start thinking about, say, Politics, start writing about it, stat having a conversation with yourself about this. And, with each thing, try having a longer and longer conversation with yourself about these things.”
(I continue nodding, looking away. It feels like someone has applied Icy Hot to my face.)
“And don’t be so harsh on yourself. Don’t. Okay?”
“mhm.”
“What is your name?”
“Amanda.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Amanda. I’m Jagdish.
“Nice to meet you, Jagdish.”
He then told Dianne, who’d just come over, that anyone who was moving into the area and visited his shop received a peacock feather, so he handed her one before we left. Blushing and full of muddy-thoughts, I made my purchase, thanked him profusely and left.
------
For most of the rest of the day, I was out of sorts, and still am, kind of. I’m still thinking about what he said, and about kindness in general-in being kind and guiding and supportive to the people around me. It’s one of the things I most admire in people, when I see them display that kindness, effortlessly, automatically. I aim to show the people around me the same kind of thoughtless kindness.
The two secret jobs I’ve wanted to do ever since reading about them: 1. Namer (from A Wrinkle in Time) - Someone who can bring out the true nature of the people around themselves, “name” them, and dispel the ugly things within those people that are keeping them from being themselves. 2. Muse- which seems very close to being a Namer, except that you also encourage people to express that self, and pay much more attention to the world around them.
Kind of unfortunate that they aren’t really the kinds of jobs you go to grad school for…or get paid a living wage for, for that matter.
Ah, well. Guess I'm stuck just aiming for a degree in...well, something...and trying to spread the love.
Love,
a