Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Life

It's surprising, sometimes, how easy it is to not care. You'd think that after being with someone for five years, there would still be feelings.

But no. It is no more, and I can't even bring myself to care. I care more about the fact that he's being the biggest asshole on the planet regarding it, is playing the victim card without allowing me the decency of seeing that I might be able to call it myself, and he doesn't have to make a single change in his life.

I have to find a job, find an apartment, and figure out if I'm continuing school. I also have to call off my wedding, return wedding presents, and explain to my mother that I'm not getting married. Some of these tasks are harder than others. :-P

The sweet in the sour? He was out of town when most of the bullshit was happening, so all of our mutual friends heard about it from me. They got to see me fall apart, and hear about how he called the cops on me. He has lost a lot of friends through this. I didn't even know that some friends were more mine than his, I merely thought they were ours.

He apparently doesn't trust me, thinks that I've used him as the sole emotional support, haven't made any attempt to work out my depression and anxiety issues, and then there's the emotional terrorism I employed this past week.

I'll easily admit to emotional terrorism -- I tried asking for information nicely and politely (when he was coming home) and when I garnered no response, my texts and phone calls became wilder and wilder and more and more abusive.

The emotional abuse and abandonment that he showed? Apparently, I'm not "allowed" to count it because "he didn't intend for it" whereas I've admitted to intending to hurt him.

In the words of my friend J, I'm deeply disappointed in him. I just wish I could fast forward a year and not have to deal with this.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Corn on the Cob

Ah, seasonal eating. Mister and I don't usually strive too much for particularly seasonal eating, but there are some things that are available only at certain times. Any holiday food, for example. I could make rice pie at any time of year, but I only do at Easter.

But corn on the cob. Oh corn on the cob. I believe it is one of my favorite foods! That's right, it might overtake potatoes. And that's saying something. But whereas I eat potatoes in all shapes, varieties and recipes, corn on the cob is just that. I've talked about corn before, and how much I love it and can devour bushels at a time.

One of the fabulous things about this summer has been my working at the Farmer's Market every Wednesday. I've become close with a lot of the vendors (there's nothing like holding down someone's tent in gale-force winds to bring people together!) and there's the fabulous vendor discount.

Like my corn. The farm that I get my corn from (my farm does not sell sweet corn) refuses any payment. This is two weeks in a row I got a half dozen ears for free. I asked this week if they'd let me pay, and the response was that as they have even more corn now, it's even cheaper for them to let it go free. Since I love it so much (and they have GREAT corn), I won't push it. But I will offer to pay every week. :-P

But I love my market. There's N, the lady who runs the bakery stall across from my tent (we wound up discussing music and fanfiction this week -- K, she's the one that I got that amazing Harry Potter fic from). There's E, the super friendly lady who runs the wine booth that teaches violin in her spare time! There's the gang at K -- they sell fruit and different veggies from my stand. I love love love their fruit. It's a guilty pleasure. There's the folks at H -- where I get my corn and where we all buy lemonade during the day. The vendors pay $2 for a HUGE plastic cup of lemonade, and there's free refills. On a day in the 90s, that is very highly appreciated! There's Farmer A, who has a stand next to us, who is so adorable. I've bought his honey and it's too die for. There's the lady at W Meats -- I buy the best bacon in the world from her, and occasionally eggs. I used to get it at $4 per pound of bacon (it's $9 normally), but now I just trade produce for it. There's any of the fine ladies who work with S -- the Mediterranean food vendor that I worked for. It's always nice to check in with them. D, the market manager always has a smile on his face and is pleasant to work with. There are other stands, but aside from a smile and a nod to them, I don't really know them well. But it's my market. Best decision to work there!

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Hungarian Sour Cherry Coffee Cake

I was lured by the beautiful sour cherries at the farmer's market to buy two containers. I double checked -- "What do I do with them?" Bake was the immediate answer.

So I did a quick search on Tasty Kitchen, and found this recipe. It looked pretty tasty, so I figured I'd give it a go.


I was going over to my friend J's house for cards and home made pizza, so I thought it'd be nice to bring dessert. And he was raving about how awesome sour cherries are at band practice yesterday :-P.

Although the directions are quite fiddly, the results are delicious. And no, I did not follow them to the letter. I used fresh cherries instead of canned (I sprinkled some sugar over the top to compensate). As my friend M was to be at cards, I subbed out the butter for Earth Balance and the flour for oat flour. Oh, and I used four whole eggs total, instead of two eggs and two yolks. I'll never use those whites as I hate meringue. I also didn't chill the dough as long as I should. The step at the end with the final topping? Super obnoxious to deal with. But, as I said, it's delicious.

So, as long as you're willing to put up with a bit of finickyness, this is a good recipe to play with. I could also see a similar tart fruit like rhubarb, blueberry or cranberry doing well too.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Worries and Idiocy of a Sexual Nature -- Be Warned!

There is a serious problem going around. And no R, I'm not even talking about that rape joke you were discussing (which is horrid enough). It's 50 Shades of Grey and the rest of the series.

There are several things wrong with this series. The first and simplest being that it was written originally as Twilight fanfiction. The second being it's poorly written in general.

But the most serious crime? It's an abusive relationship. But the author doesn't call it an abusive relationship. Oh no, that's just the NATURE of Dom/sub relationships! No. No it is not. And the problem with this is people are reading these books and going "oh that sounds sexy! Let's try this out!" without actually doing their research. And a great many people are going to hurt themselves and others by attempting to live out the books.

There are a lot of difficulties in navigating such a relationship, and communication is key to solving ALL of them. Communication in discovering boundaries. Communication in determining safe words and how to use them properly. Communication in what types of kink you're exploring. Leaving the sexual relationship to sex only, and having a comfortable relationship outside of the bedroom. (You can have a D/s relationship that is non-sexual, but I'm assuming for these purposes that we're talking about a sexual one.) Trust. Trust is the key here as well.

Another key point in a D/s relationship is that a Dom is not "superior" than a sub, they merely choreograph, so to speak. Anyone who goes into a D/s relationship and receives unwanted sex-shaming (calling you a slut, or a whore, etc.), intentional disregard of opinions and preferences -- these people are not Doms, they are insane. They need therapy to realize that people are humans, not sex-toys.

This is also not to say that there are no relationships that involve terms like 'slut' and 'whore'. There are some relationships where that is AGREED UPON and DISCUSSED as appropriate in the context of play. There are some relationships that use shame and punishment, in the context of play, and there are some that do not.

But it REALLY SCARES ME when someone talks about how their friend/s is/are convincing them to read 50 Shades of Grey. For f*ck's sake, the man's got mommy issues that he takes out on his partners! How disturbing can you get?

That being said, enjoy the ONLY version of 50 Shades of Grey that I find palatable.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Compliments

It seems that so many people thrive on compliments to their physical appearance. It always nice to be told that I have great hair or a beautiful smile, but I’ve been spoiled by much lovelier strings of words.
“you’re such a kind person.”
“I admire your patience.”
“you make me proud.”

I came across this little tidbit today on someone's tumblr. I completely disagree with it. Their examples are horrible, anyway. A kind person? Honey, I am anything but that and I will laugh in your face if you attempt it. Patience? Perhaps, but it isn't hard. It's a combination of something called 'waiting' and 'sucking it up'. The magic of 'patience'. And finally, to make someone proud? Anything I do IS NOT for you, whoever it is that 'you' are. My actions are my own, and I'll thank you to leave them to me.

Also, what is wrong with a physical compliment? They are easier to give and easier to receive. I'd rather not be burdened with a sudden dose of self-awareness like the above quote attempted to supply. If I'm tootsing along my merry way throughout the day, I'll thank you to let me alone to do it! I'd rather not think deep thoughts about my own spiritual and mental make-up. But a compliment on my attire or hair or anything physical? I'll take that and gladly.

If you must compliment me, leave me out of it.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Music as Poetry

In a discussion with R recently, it came up that a lot of pop music is not interesting music, although the lyrics may be unearthly. I agree wholeheartedly with this conviction, although I do enjoy the ease of pop music upon the ear. I also enjoy singing it, all the more so if it is beautifully lyrical. Yet, I find that lyrics aren't as strong taken apart from the whole of the piece. If you can't feel the intent of the words with the singer's voice, why have the words in the first place? It is a difficult decision for me, deciding why a piece moves me.

For that matter, it's always been an odd mix of favorites for me. I prefer songs with a good beat, that keep me moving and are just enjoyable. Yet, upon listening to an album for the 40th time or what-have-you, I find the quiet moments hidden in the slower tracks. For who can have a serious thought with a heavy beat?

I just listened to some Cat Stevens on grooveshark.com for a while. It has been so long since I've heard his voice, and I do miss it. Cat Stevens was a true Flower Child and his music brings to mind such beautiful imagery, self-exploration and understanding.

From simple, honest tunes such as "If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out" (written for the 1971 movie Harold and Maude) you just get the sense of joy that Cat Stevens found in the world and all of its differences.

And if you want to be me, be me
And if you want to be you, be you
'Cause there's a million things to do
You know that there are


Or the optimism and acceptance found in "Moonshadow".

And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my land,
Oh if I ever lose my hands, Oh if... I won't have to work no more.
And if I ever lose my eyes, if my colours all run dry,
Yes if I ever lose my eyes, Oh if... I won't have to cry no more.


But then you have the dialogue in "Father and Son" that reaches most of us -- for who hasn't seen if not experienced the dismissal of young tempests by cooler, older heads?
I was once like you are now, and I know that it's not easy,
To be calm when you've found something going on.
But take your time, think a lot,
Why, think of everything you've got.
For you will still be here tomorrow, but your dreams may not.

How can I try to explain, when I do he turns away again.
It's always been the same, same old story.
From the moment I could talk I was ordered to listen.
Now there's a way and I know that I have to go away.
I know I have to go.


I don't know why I find the sentiments of old hippy songs more poignant and relevant to my own life than any modern attempts -- perhaps I merely am more familiar with the tunes of the 60s than today. Perhaps there is a sense of "why reinvent the wheel" when it comes to these feelings. They just make me want to look at my beautiful, shining moon and sing in the dark.