an everyday night

Evenings are different since we've moved. We no longer have tv. Gabe doesn't bring his work home and rarely works past dinner. It's the best. It's also the best to live with someone who you genuinely love being with. The combination is great. Since we moved Gabe and I are having so much fun in the evenings just hanging out... usually he is fixing his bicycle, or drawing schematics for some invention or taking pictures of the cats. I am taking pictures, or cooking or trying to do something crafty. Tonight we printed out a picture of Ookpik that I took earlier today. We printed it 13 x 19. That is scary big for a close-up of a cat face. Gabe put it on the mantle and it's super weird. So weird we thought about getting rid of it, selling it on craigslist. Who would buy that, I said. Then we discussed if it's less weird to have a giant picture of your own cat or someone else's. It may be time to have children, because it is much more socially acceptable to have people pictures all over the house, not cats.

I've been playing last.fm radio lately in the evening and Joan Baez came on tonight. Here was the conversation:

Me: Ugh, Joan Baez. I know she's supposed to be all that, but seriously. Ugh.

Gabe: It's an acquired taste.

Me: Really??

Gabe: Yeah, like stabbing yourself in the eyeballs.


Then later we had an argument about whether Gabe was really dancing (she says) or whether he was just stretching his neck (he says). Silly string of non-events all the night through, but lovely.

the evolution of a sweet potato

At the farmer's market last week a farmer told another customer how he had just pulled up sweet potatoes from the ground that morning in the rain. Of course I had to buy a couple. The man held one I had picked out and exclaimed 'what a beauty!' which instilled in me a very odd pride. Here's the beauty:












Here they are after some scrubbing and cutting - what a difference! He wasn't kidding about pulling them from the ground.












I then boiled them and peeled them, and I was stumped. I realized I haven't really cooked sweet potatoes in years. The past couple times we've had sushi I had a craving for sweet potato maki or tempura but forgot to order both times! I did not have seaweed or wasabi, and didn't want something sweet so I made a fried sweet potato patty. I want to tell you what's in it but my synapses in that area don't seem to be firing. My best guess: chipotle hot sauce, cayenne, salt, pepper, garlic powder, oregano, cinnamon.

Here's the finished product in the background, hanging out with some arugula, spicy broiled cod, and canteloupe salsa. The canteloupe salsa was this: one diced canteloupe, some vidalia onion, chopped red chili pepper, cilantro, lime juice, olive oil and red wine vinegar. It was a great dinner, especially the sweet potatoes!

i interrupt this blog to ask a logistical question

I detest the photo uploading on Blogger, and just realized there are some other options: putting pictures in Picasa/Flickr and then uploading to the blog from there. Does anyone do this? Is it easier?

Root canal was today and went as well as it possibly could have. The dentist complimented me on my ability to disassociate. The novacaine hasn't yet worn off and it's forecast to hurt for 7-10 days after. But I can do scuba (yay!)...tooth definitively isn't fractured (yay!), and I can get it internally bleached before the wedding (yay!). As much as we glorify the past, it is so great to live in an era in which my front tooth does not fall out after an injury, and one in which I can pick which Direct TV channel I want to watch in the dentist's chair (Food Network).

a country drive

Today was grey and we decided to go hiking in one of the ple-thor-a (say it slowly, like three amigos) of trails around here. We meandered in the countryside, and it started to drizzle. Gabe drove while I snapped pictures out of the passenger windows (so excuse the quality).

Chatham County is reached by making a right outside our subdivision and driving a mile or two. There are rolling hills, lots of farms, and an atmosphere that puts me at ease immediately. Apparently there is also a fair.












These are two views of Jordan Lake, a man-made body of water 14,000 acres big. If you fish or kayak it's da bomb.























Country road...usually there are a lot of cyclists in the area but we didn't see many today, probably due to the rain.












An interesting little store - stupid windshield wiper is in the way. The sign says there is porch music on Friday nights!












Silo.












Turn the corner and you never know if you'll see a mobile home or a mansion...

































This is the shirt I wore as camouflage in the woods. To further the effect, here is me posing as an owl. A charging bear would be super confused.
















We ended up not hiking, as the need to pee and eat something eventually overrode the desire to muddy ourselves in the rain. We got bbq here and I felt like I was sitting in a grandparents' home. A grandparents' home with REALLY good bbq. I also hit a little cultural barrier, when I had no idea what 'stew' meant, nor 'brunswick stew' when it was further explained. And then I asked for vinegar for hushpuppies, forgetting that's what the barbecue sauce is here and it was sitting right in front of me.












What I love love love about where we live is this. If I leave home and turn right, it is peaceful country living (see above). If I leave home and turn left, there is a town that resembles a little San Francisco, sans hills. It's small compared to Boston, but everything is there: great food, fun nightlife, friendly people, lots of shopping. Also city construction:












It's the perfect place to please the City and Country Mouse that I am.

hold on to your hats, people....

now that I have a new camera, you are in for A LOT of cat pictures.

































(this is my mom's cat, getting that hard to reach spot behind the ears)

DMV and root canals, happy days are here again

I'm not going to elaborate too much on the title, to spare you vicarious pain. But my root canal is scheduled for Monday. Last week I went to the DMV for a new license. I arrived a couple minutes past appointed time (I had to make this appt. 3 weeks in advance). I waited 25 more for someone to notice me standing there at the front desk. When they decided to saunter over they informed me I was too late for my appt. I politely explained the situation and was told 'you are not telling the truth'. Several times. Then I not so politely explained the situation, and waited another 15 minutes to see the old guy supervisor that ignored me in the first place. Later I was informed I couldn't get my license anyway because I need a social security card, which I can get in the 'building that looks like a penis'. I am not a customer service expert, but I don't think any of the aforementioned practices are acceptable.

In funner news I'm making progress on the wedding front. My mom and I went veil shopping in NJ on Saturday, and I got a fabulous accidentally custom made one. The lady wound around some tulle over my head, made a cut, and POOF - the funkiest veil creation was formed. It's definitely different, and that suits me much more than a traditional veil for sure. Gabe and I also stocked up on some bling - a new engagement ring for me and a wedding band for him. We are ordering the rest of the decorations and some other things tonight... and voila, somehow a wedding will happen in five weeks' time.

In other funner news I am having the burst of creativity that inevitably follows my existential crises. (Hey, it's only bipolar if it affects your ability to function in society, right?) Our new camera is amazing, and once my computer is all set up and connected to the internet again (yes, I break and everything around me lately) then I will post some new pictures. I also ventured into the paint department at Home Depot today and got some things for projects. Between camera, fabric, polyurethane and some finds at the thrift store, I will be keeping myself happily creative for a while.

I am trying to enjoy my leisure time for the next month, because after the wedding/honeymoon it's back to business. The question is what business. I've been brainstorming ideas, born out of my total unmotivation for a 9-5 job. Or worse, an 8-5 :( I'm also looking at some upcoming small business seminars and networking groups to attend. Trying on my entrepreneurial hat. It will most likely be too big, expensive, or detonate after a while, exploding to bits our meager finances. But nothing ventured...

entropy, or, why i am marrying the man i am marrying.

I believe it must be part of my soul's work to understand the value of maintenance, and the balance within domesticity. When stars align, I am so content to cook, wash dishes, vacuum, put everything in its place. But when anything in my life shifts towards the negative, even slightly, its first reverberation is felt in my domestic life. When before I could notice the charm of our clothes lying tangled together on the living room floor, or the sunlight casting shadows behind a half empty glass of milk, I suddenly see the mess, the carelessness, the disrespect towards our environment. The joy of creating a meal dissolves into a bitter sense of obligation, and the monotony of loading the dishwasher AGAIN sends me into mute rages.

I had one of these moments a couple days ago. I had just cleaned the house, and the surprising entropy of a two-person household had ruined my good work. Gabriel had come home and was in the direct line of fire. Since I would be the one to clean, and since I am the one who is a woman, I put all sort of meaning and history into this not-necessarily-causal set of two facts. But Gabe is patient with me as I ask him if it's too much to ask to live in a clean house. He has learned not to take it personally because he knows what comes next. My rant inevitably turns inward, as I am predisposed to self-recrimination. I'm not even working, I don't have children, I should be able to at least keep a house clean. How could it be so hard? And then to a deeper level. I'm not even working, I should have extra time now. I should be able to do all the things I want to do, why haven't I? And further. It's so weird not to work. I just cook and clean and I don't even get anywhere. What is the point? And I make a mistake asking that last question. Because that is the death spiral released. What IS the point, even if I work? What should I do? Making money obviously isn't the point. I think it's ridiculous and condescending when people say they want to work to help other people. So what's the reason to do anything? Etc.

I will spare you all the ugly et ceteras. But picture me sunk in my chair, whining softly, hands hanging in the air, which, to me, is heavy with lack of inspiration, motivation or purpose. Gabe meanwhile has been listening, asking a question or two, and once making an exploding sound to simulate my brain's well worn path towards masochistic, over-analyzing self-destruction.

I finish my half hour rant with a sigh. And he sighs back. Oh honey. I don't have the answers either, but I'll be right here with you as you try to figure it out.

Now that is a man I can spend my life with.