May 15, 2008

Mongo no flirt

Mongo lift body weight. Mongo ride motorcycle. Mongo go to Whole Foods to buy humanely raised chicken legs. A very cute meat counter attendant does double take as Mongo walk by. He then blows off another customer who was talking to him to help Mongo. Mongo ask about chicken raising practices. Mongo get chicken and Italian pork sausage. Mongo go home.

*sigh*

It's not like I'm determined to get into the meat counter guy's pants, but it would be nice to have a flirtation. I just don't know how to do it.

:(

Feats of strength

I haven't done any weightlifting for years because it bores me shitless. It's so damn repetitive. Instead, I maintain muscle strength through yoga and pushups. But now, I'm tired of that, so I'm back on weights for now. I'm doing machines, anyway; I don't feel like buying weightlifting gloves and all that, and anyway, free weights take up too much time. I don't have the patience of my early 20s, when I enjoyed being one of the very few females in the mostly male domain of free weights and disdained those who used machines. Well, screw that; I don't feel like spending hours in the goddamn gym. It's hard to find a gym with a pleasant atmosphere.

Allow me to brag. Last night, I decided to see the max weight I can lift. I did 120 pounds on the chest press machine! Three times! That's my body weight. The dude who used the machine next took weight off! Eee! I love being strong.

120 pounds! I spent the rest of my workout doing high weight, low rep exercises. I'll do different shits later this week. Today, I'm mildly and pleasantly sore, so I didn't overdo anything.

May 14, 2008

Sloth

I decided not to work from now until the move.

I had planned to work right up until the day I left to make as much money as possible, but Fuck It. The past three years have been TAXING as hell, and I plan to get in as much quality sloth time as possible in the next month.

I'm going to read whenever I want; I need to recapture my intellectual curiosity, which has recently been limited to things like figuring out who's going to be eliminated in each episode of Top Chef. In the past week, I read Generation Kill and finally finished The Omnivore's Dilemma and Inside the Victorian Home: A Portrait of Life in Victorian England.

Now, I will start Civilization, which has been sitting on my bookshelf for over a year. However, as I read the table of contents a little while ago, I started to feel sorry I bought the book. The book, while critical, doesn't really question the conceit of "Western Civilization." Can you draw a direct line from ancient Greece/Rome to The West, as he apparently does? And even more basic than that, can you lump a bunch of shit together under that monolithic category? Given that, how far does he distance himself from Samuel Huntington? Well, I guess I'll find out when I start reading it.

I'm going to swim regularly, maybe practice my butterfly stroke. I bought a month's membership at a gym, so I'll do some weight work and do some reading on the elliptical machine and stationary bikes. I spent 1 hr 15 min on those machines last week, not 'cause I like them, but because I was so fascinated by the description of a sustainable farming operation in The Omnivore's Dilemma, a farming system modeled on nature. Stopping exercise would have meant an interruption in my reading! I said "farming operation," but it isn't as prosaic as that term sounds; it's a creation of sheer beauty possessed of wondrous symmetry. It restored my faith in humanity, even. My feet were numb when I got off the elliptical and I went on to numb my ass on the bike.

I'm going to figure out ways to make vegetables interesting. I'm tired of interesting salads. I want interesting *cooked* vegetables. Anyone know of an excellent vegetable cookbook?

Heh. I guess "Sloth" really isn't a proper name for this post. I guess "Pleasurable Projects" is a more accurate description.

May 12, 2008

Imagining your way out

While we'll probably never again be blank slates, it's not too late to change even as adults. Old dogs can learn new tricks.

Thanks to Rufus for pointing out this fascinating article. The author, a neuroscientist named Susan Greenfield, discusses how the human brain continuously -- not just in childhood -- remains plastic and changes at the microcellular level in response to experiences and stimuli.

She briefly describes an experiment involving three groups of adults who had never played the piano. One group sat in a room with the piano but had nothing to do with it, a second group was given intensive piano lessons, and the last group was told to imagine themselves going through the piano exercises. The brain scan results? Not surprisingly, the control group (the one that did nothing) showed no changes in their brains. The group that did the piano exercises showed significant structural changes in the parts of their brain that govern finger movements, but most surprisingly of all, the group that imagined playing the piano showed almost as much change in their brains as those who actually played the piano!

Greenfield's article dealt with her worries about the effect of technology and psychoactive drugs on our brains; however, for me, that piano experiment struck another chord: What implications does this have for people like me, people who need to heal from trauma?

Here's another interesting article about "lies" versus what we might call "future truths." In the experiment described in that article, college students were asked about their grades and academic histories. Almost half embellished their records, but instead of becoming tensed and stressed when lying -- which happens to people who are lying in order to cover up crimes, for instance -- they became more relaxed as they lied. To paraphrase the article, this was because their goal was not to deceive; rather, the "lies" can be seen as a statement of aspiration or an attempt to project themselves toward their goals. In earlier studies, the research team found that students who exaggerated their grade point average actually went on to bump up their grades, often by the very amount they exaggerated.

I'll admit that I'm engaging in dubious speculation and making connections that may not be sound. But what I read in those articles resonates so much with my own experience. Imagining things: that's exactly what I had to do to get healthy. I told myself all the good things I wanted to believe about myself, and I acted as though I really believed it. There is a starting point: you, unhappy, feeling broken. Then there's a goal point: you, healed, whole.

How do you bridge those states? How on earth do you get to the goal? There's no map or set of instructions. All you can do, really, is imagine yourself there. In my case, I suddenly, almost magically, found myself there. My old thought habits are greatly diminished, if not totally gone. Granted, the magic was only in hindsight; I did a lot of work, invisible work because it was all in my head.

How the fuck do you change your head, you might ask? Well, it's YOUR damn head! You have a CHOICE.

This fucken works, man. I'm not the same person I used to be. My brain is different. It is absolutely possible to change something as seemingly fundamental as your personality.

May 9, 2008

If you don't wanna suck da heads...

...'cause you get swollen, inflamed lips from sucking da heads at Quality Seafood, where they overload their crawfish boil with cayenne, yet want to enjoy the orangey fat, you need a special technique. I, a fucking food prodigy who never grew up nowhere near no crawfish, developed this technique during what was only my second experience with crawfish. That's how hard I rock.

After eating my first pound of crawfish of the day, I had to stick my lips in my iced tea for like 5 minutes to cool them off. I came to the conclusion that although suckin da heads is a venerable tradition, the pain factor was outweighing the pleasure factor (I now openly reject the tastebud-obliterating macho "more is more" school of pepper application). While contemplating my throbbing lips, the solution popped into my head: Let the Fat Come to You!

I share my technique with you, lucky readers.
What you do:
1. Grasp the head near its base.
2. Gently wriggle it and the tail apart.
3. Enjoy the fatty goodness.

If you look closely at the slain crawfish grasped in my manhands, you'll see the coveted orangey globs clinging to its severed tail. I get, like, an 80% success rate with this method.

May 7, 2008

New tricks

Proof that old dogs can learn new tricks; food issues I'm no longer doctrinaire about:

1) Fruit and chocolate together is now acceptable. Or at least berries and chocolate, and some limited citrus. I've also come to love dried fruit and chocolate after much experimentation with the bulk bins in Central Market. The chocolate-covered Bing cherries, blueberry chocolates, and mixed berry chocolates are to die for.

2) Fruit and meat. I think my distaste for fruit and meat together started as a child, when my mom would open a can of jellied cranberry sauce on Thanksgivings. But I'm starting to come around; for example, I had cranberries and wild boar sausages together the other night. I've also had dried fruit with various meats recently, and liked them. Which leads to the following:

3) Raisins. I've always liked raisins, but only by themselves. The only other form I would eat them in was raisin bread. But lately, I've had raisins in pilaf, raisins in various kinds of salads, and even chocolate-covered raisins (something I never used to even consider food) and enjoyed them. However, I remain close-minded about nuts. I accept them in one of three forms only: by themselves, in a trail mix, and finely chopped peanuts in certain Asian dishes. Otherwise, their very hard texture is off-putting when mixed with other foods. This rule is suspended for things like pine nuts or sunflower seeds; their softer texture makes them easier to incorporate into foods. But never desserts! Nuts do not belong in desserts, except when they come in brittle form (I don't like chocolate-covered nuts, except when combined with dried fruit).

4) Sweetness in entrees. The only sweet entree I used to like was sukiyaki. I liked to segregate the savory and sweet portions of my meal -- entree savory, dessert sweet. This has changed gradually over time and is related to my acceptance of the pairing of fruit and meat. I still reject overly sweetened curries and reject sweetness in soba sauces altogether, but it was the slightly sweetened nuoc cham, or dipping sauce, in Vietnamese cooking that brought me around with its irresistible combination of sweet-savory-fiery.

I wonder if I'll ever get over my aversion to organ meats, though.

May 5, 2008

Viral change

I'm becoming more and more committed lately to the idea of viral change. Richard Dawkins might call what I'm talking about a meme, and an article in the NY Times Sunday Magazine likened urban violence to a virus. Both of these ideas are similar to mine. The amount of shit that needs to be fixed in our world can be pretty overwhelming; given the scale of our problems, our individual actions seem pretty puny. But I honestly believe there are no empty gestures. I believe that if I act consistently, whether in reducing the amount of natural resources I consume or simply kind and considerate and shit and generally raising the tone of social interactions, someone else will pick up on my actions. And then that person will spread them as I did.

I've absolutely no proof that this actually works, but I'm going to treat this as a grand experiment on my part. Who knows? Maybe soon the world will be full of foodie motorcyclists.

May 3, 2008

Take that, Ay-rabs!

A little while ago, I pulled up to the pump and it read "$70.22." I let out a long gleeful internal cackle and walked away having paid only $6.50 or so. I pay this about three or four times a month; I get 60 mpg with city riding (other people who do mostly highway on my model of bike get 70 mpg).

I do, however, miss listening to the radio. I also miss wearing things like skirts and sandals, and I'm tired of constantly fixing my hair after taking off my helmet. But with a gas bill of only around $25 a month, I get to feel wonderfully smug.


May 1, 2008

Stealing? A poll.

Some questions:

1) Scenario 1: A man makes a fortune from stealing from people. He passes that money on to his children. The rightful owners of the money demand it back. Should the children give it back, even though they themselves didn't steal it? Why?

2) Scenario 2: If you answered yes to #1, can the rightful owners demand it of the thief's grandchildren? Or the rightful owner's children from other descendants of the thief?

April 30, 2008

How I made it through this time

I inhabited darkness for so long. I want something else. I want a warm glowy feeling. I want to be a force for good.

In recent weeks, I lost my "Everything Will Be Okay" feeling -- possibly due to stress -- and have been slithering around in a pit again (hence the "Craving" post of last Friday). But on Monday, I decided to act like All is Cool and make someone's day. At work, I joked around and made people smile and feel good and shit. But the breakthrough came at a pharmacy of all places. The clerk I spoke to had a deep, pleasant, mellifluous voice. So I told him, "You have such a mellow voice!" in all sincerity, and his face just lit up. He laughed, revealing a small gap between his front teeth (I find a small gap between front teeth endearing). I made his day, and that made my day. Later that afternoon when I went jogging, I saw the special golden afternoon light that I love filtered through bright green leaves and its beauty suddenly struck me like it hasn't struck me in a long time. A star burst warmly in my chest and I thought, "Indeed...Everything Will Be All Right in the End."

And last night, my neighborhood was filled with fireflies.

I survived some grim shit, people, and have no patience with cliches or platitudes. But it's such a simple lesson I learned, so simple it veers close to cliche: Step out of yourself. When you see how you can help others, you are taken out of your dark place. When I can be a source of joy, I know I will have joy. And that ain't no bullshit.

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