I have never been so revolted by people on BOTH sides of the aisle in Congress. I listened to the end of Obama's health care speech last night, on my way home from work. I had tuned in late enough that NPR made sure to get Republican and Democrat responses to the speech.
To sum up:
Republicans: A catastrophe!
Democrats: A beautiful speech!
Me: YOU ARE ALL CHILDREN.
Here's what I would love: civilized, rational people summing up the pros and cons of Obama's plan, vocalizing the needs and wants of their constituents in a calm way. Hopefully taking as much time to listen as they would to speak, if not more. I'm usually liberal leaning, but really EVERYONE is disgusting me. Joe Wilson's rude outburst is just as offensive as Howard Dean's smooth-talking "What a home run!" in referencing the speech.
Can someone point out to me some members of Congress who actually LISTENED to the speech, and didn't form a knee-jerk reaction based on whether or not they believe they should be perceived as rejecting or accepting anything that comes out of the President's mouth?
I'm open to recommendations.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
Food
I've been living for a good 13 months gluten free now. It's still a surprise when I have a wonderful, savory meal without running to the restroom. Or taking a nap. I've learned this past year that food is actually meant to energize you, and not slow you down. Before The Diet, I much preferred performing onstage on an empty stomach. Now I can't go on without having had something good to eat - I'm learning to burn calories in a good way and then refuel myself later.
It sounds like such a "well, duh" thing to say, but I'm still overjoyed every day I have successfully used food to my advantage. I have been able to go long stretches of days without a stomachache, something I never thought was possible before.
Back when I was first adjusting to this new way of eating, I read an article in Living Without magazine that was talking about the best way to eat out frequently being gluten free. The first tip the author gave was to break your emotional attachment to food. The theory being, that if you can bring yourself to accept that not every meal you have will be satisfying, you will be able to more readily adapt to difficult situations and enjoy the good meals even more.
The Diet, it turns out, had the exact opposite effect on me. I am even more emotionally attached to food now. Knowing that it's something I need for survival AND pleasure makes my relationship with food nearly codependent. There are wonderful consequences to this, and that is that I crave new recipes and savor the ones I am delighted with. Cooking and thinking about what to cook next has been an exciting adventure around here.
The flipside, of course, comes when I'm past denying that there may be one more thing I have to eliminate from my diet. I've been trying to ignore it, but my body is now screaming at me that I am lactose intolerant as well. I'm making an appointment to get the official diagnosis, but in experimenting with dairy free and dairy-full meals, it's pretty clear that I feel better when I don't have a lick of lactose. My stomach is much more relaxed. My energy level is up. My migraines decrease.
I didn't know how much this was upsetting me until a conversation with T last night, when I asked if we could try a dairy free meal to see how I reacted.
"Sure," was his response. He was a vegan for two years, after all. This would not be a dealbreaker for him.
"Great... I'm going to make some black bean chili." Totally easy and cheap, and super good with cheese and chips from Trader Joe's.
"Okay, sounds fine."
"I'll get some shredded soy cheese to put on top."
"Okay, I'll get real cheese."
I paused - clearly this wasn't an unreasonable thing to think. The cheese doesn't go directly into the chili pot. it's a topping we add to our own individual bowls. At first I tried to argue that only one packet of shredded cheese would be more cost effective. He waved it off, saying he didn't mind buying the real cheese himself.
This escalated into a point where I was pleading with him to eat the soy cheese with me. "Why?" he understandably asked.
"Because I don't want to feel like a freak for cutting one more damn thing out of my diet!"
This surprised even me. I had been so optimistic up to this point, knowing that lactose intolerance was not something I had to monitor so closely like gluten. No cross-contamination issues, just ask for the cheese off my salad. Get another burger besides the cheeseburger. Use soy cheese when you can.
T asked thoughtfully, "You feel like a freak?"
"Kinda."
He shrugged. "Okay, then, if you want me to eat it with you for that reason, that's not a problem."
And we did have a lovely black bean chili tonight, complete with soy cheese. T even commented on the stellar meltiness, which had obviously been improved upon since he had last had it.
And my tummy? Full. Happy. Not bloated. Crap.
Time to head back to the allergist for a lactose intolerance test. It may not be necessary, but I do know I won't have the discipline to avoid dairy unless I'm given a medical diagnosis. I also don't think I should complain about my ailments until a doctor tells me I have them. It makes the whining much more satisfying.
Lucky readers. I hereby promise not to make the next few posts so negative and oh-woe-is-me. I've got enough stress in life from other areas that if I can get this one little problem fixed, I can concentrate on some other stuff with renewed optimism and energy.
And eventually, I'll be able to go back to food with the same convictions.
It sounds like such a "well, duh" thing to say, but I'm still overjoyed every day I have successfully used food to my advantage. I have been able to go long stretches of days without a stomachache, something I never thought was possible before.
Back when I was first adjusting to this new way of eating, I read an article in Living Without magazine that was talking about the best way to eat out frequently being gluten free. The first tip the author gave was to break your emotional attachment to food. The theory being, that if you can bring yourself to accept that not every meal you have will be satisfying, you will be able to more readily adapt to difficult situations and enjoy the good meals even more.
The Diet, it turns out, had the exact opposite effect on me. I am even more emotionally attached to food now. Knowing that it's something I need for survival AND pleasure makes my relationship with food nearly codependent. There are wonderful consequences to this, and that is that I crave new recipes and savor the ones I am delighted with. Cooking and thinking about what to cook next has been an exciting adventure around here.
The flipside, of course, comes when I'm past denying that there may be one more thing I have to eliminate from my diet. I've been trying to ignore it, but my body is now screaming at me that I am lactose intolerant as well. I'm making an appointment to get the official diagnosis, but in experimenting with dairy free and dairy-full meals, it's pretty clear that I feel better when I don't have a lick of lactose. My stomach is much more relaxed. My energy level is up. My migraines decrease.
I didn't know how much this was upsetting me until a conversation with T last night, when I asked if we could try a dairy free meal to see how I reacted.
"Sure," was his response. He was a vegan for two years, after all. This would not be a dealbreaker for him.
"Great... I'm going to make some black bean chili." Totally easy and cheap, and super good with cheese and chips from Trader Joe's.
"Okay, sounds fine."
"I'll get some shredded soy cheese to put on top."
"Okay, I'll get real cheese."
I paused - clearly this wasn't an unreasonable thing to think. The cheese doesn't go directly into the chili pot. it's a topping we add to our own individual bowls. At first I tried to argue that only one packet of shredded cheese would be more cost effective. He waved it off, saying he didn't mind buying the real cheese himself.
This escalated into a point where I was pleading with him to eat the soy cheese with me. "Why?" he understandably asked.
"Because I don't want to feel like a freak for cutting one more damn thing out of my diet!"
This surprised even me. I had been so optimistic up to this point, knowing that lactose intolerance was not something I had to monitor so closely like gluten. No cross-contamination issues, just ask for the cheese off my salad. Get another burger besides the cheeseburger. Use soy cheese when you can.
T asked thoughtfully, "You feel like a freak?"
"Kinda."
He shrugged. "Okay, then, if you want me to eat it with you for that reason, that's not a problem."
And we did have a lovely black bean chili tonight, complete with soy cheese. T even commented on the stellar meltiness, which had obviously been improved upon since he had last had it.
And my tummy? Full. Happy. Not bloated. Crap.
Time to head back to the allergist for a lactose intolerance test. It may not be necessary, but I do know I won't have the discipline to avoid dairy unless I'm given a medical diagnosis. I also don't think I should complain about my ailments until a doctor tells me I have them. It makes the whining much more satisfying.
Lucky readers. I hereby promise not to make the next few posts so negative and oh-woe-is-me. I've got enough stress in life from other areas that if I can get this one little problem fixed, I can concentrate on some other stuff with renewed optimism and energy.
And eventually, I'll be able to go back to food with the same convictions.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Pros of summer:
Nice weather, for the most part, although the recent heat wave in an apartment on the 3rd floor with no air conditioning rendered me completely useless for a good week. No relief even from the car, since the AC is broken in that, too. We are now back to highs in the mid-80's and lows below 70. The Northwest is now as it should be. (read: cooler than Colorado in the summer.)
More lacksadaisical schedule. I'm only teaching five days a week instead of six, and there are very few gigs coming my way. There's some great things about relaxing for a couple months. I get to do things like... read for pleasure.
Allergies go away from spring. (Took them long enough... I was taking Claritin way into July.)
Cons of summer:
The mosquitos. Enough said.
***
Okay, not enough said, because I am in pain from my stupid bites I got in a distant relative's backyard the other night. 13 in total. One of them is on my foot - this happens once almost every summer. First there's the bite that I absentmindedly scratch, only to discover eventually that my fingers are gnawing away at my skin, and scream, "Oh, no!" Then there's the mad rush for Benadryl cream, which will indeed help every bit I have EXCEPT the one on my foot. Then there's the swelling - it will go away temporarily when I ice it and rest it, but as soon as I need to put any weight on the darn foot (like, when I walk ANYWHERE) the blood rushes down and the foot begins to grow to the size of Connecticut again.
So my plan for today, pretty much, is to make my students do all the work. I'm not getting up from the chair in the studio. They'll be able to take one look at my foot and see how hobbly and gimpy I am.
I just hope nobody thinks I have the mumps!
Nice weather, for the most part, although the recent heat wave in an apartment on the 3rd floor with no air conditioning rendered me completely useless for a good week. No relief even from the car, since the AC is broken in that, too. We are now back to highs in the mid-80's and lows below 70. The Northwest is now as it should be. (read: cooler than Colorado in the summer.)
More lacksadaisical schedule. I'm only teaching five days a week instead of six, and there are very few gigs coming my way. There's some great things about relaxing for a couple months. I get to do things like... read for pleasure.
Allergies go away from spring. (Took them long enough... I was taking Claritin way into July.)
Cons of summer:
The mosquitos. Enough said.
***
Okay, not enough said, because I am in pain from my stupid bites I got in a distant relative's backyard the other night. 13 in total. One of them is on my foot - this happens once almost every summer. First there's the bite that I absentmindedly scratch, only to discover eventually that my fingers are gnawing away at my skin, and scream, "Oh, no!" Then there's the mad rush for Benadryl cream, which will indeed help every bit I have EXCEPT the one on my foot. Then there's the swelling - it will go away temporarily when I ice it and rest it, but as soon as I need to put any weight on the darn foot (like, when I walk ANYWHERE) the blood rushes down and the foot begins to grow to the size of Connecticut again.
So my plan for today, pretty much, is to make my students do all the work. I'm not getting up from the chair in the studio. They'll be able to take one look at my foot and see how hobbly and gimpy I am.
I just hope nobody thinks I have the mumps!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Dear Citizens of California:
Have you ever thought of this?
California is a heartbeat away from declaring bankruptcy. (Heard it on PRI's "Marketplace," please don't try to deny it.)
Weddings are a multi-million (if not multi-billion) dollar industry. That's money going in to venues, food vendors, fancy attire, florists.... you get the idea.
So, yeah, citizens of California. Make it so that the thousands of couples in your state who actually want to get married and pour all this money back in to your economy CAN'T. That seems reasonable.
Californians are EXTREMELY proud of their state. (This is not a fact I heard on "Marketplace," but I don't know anyone, Californian or not, who would disagree with me.) I'm just suggesting the people who are squeamish about gay marriage take one for the team.
Could the Supreme Court, by the way, have chosen a more "try-to-please-everyone" judgement? You can't say that some people are more equal than others. That's not your job.
Thanks for listening. And stop being so stubborn when there's an answer to your financial troubles right in front of your face.
California is a heartbeat away from declaring bankruptcy. (Heard it on PRI's "Marketplace," please don't try to deny it.)
Weddings are a multi-million (if not multi-billion) dollar industry. That's money going in to venues, food vendors, fancy attire, florists.... you get the idea.
So, yeah, citizens of California. Make it so that the thousands of couples in your state who actually want to get married and pour all this money back in to your economy CAN'T. That seems reasonable.
Californians are EXTREMELY proud of their state. (This is not a fact I heard on "Marketplace," but I don't know anyone, Californian or not, who would disagree with me.) I'm just suggesting the people who are squeamish about gay marriage take one for the team.
Could the Supreme Court, by the way, have chosen a more "try-to-please-everyone" judgement? You can't say that some people are more equal than others. That's not your job.
Thanks for listening. And stop being so stubborn when there's an answer to your financial troubles right in front of your face.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
It's bizarre what a difference seven years can make. When I was 19, I remember going across the street to my friends' apartments, getting happy with some drinks, and the next morning curing the oncoming hangover with some scrambled eggs. I was good to go.
I got quite a bit happy last night, and had tons of fun in the process. Of course, today, my stamina is quite low. I just want to go back to bed. This will require some energy of sugary sodas to get me through. That's a medication I normally reserve for migraines. Is there any relation?
I have noticed that there is no sign of a headache... that in itself will make my day much easier. :)
I got quite a bit happy last night, and had tons of fun in the process. Of course, today, my stamina is quite low. I just want to go back to bed. This will require some energy of sugary sodas to get me through. That's a medication I normally reserve for migraines. Is there any relation?
I have noticed that there is no sign of a headache... that in itself will make my day much easier. :)
Friday, May 1, 2009
I'm feeling a little silly posting something like this - it tends to have a little too much overdramatacism attached to it, and I've heard so many comments of "You're so young! Don't WORRY about it!"
I have reached what I think is as close as I'll get to a crossroads in my career path. And it's been a long time coming - my professor in undergrad told me that I seem to be interested in what appears to be a musical buffet, and I can't decide on my main entree. I could teach, I could be in an orchestra, I could play chamber music, I could research. BUT, as it turns out, I can't successfully do all these things. And this bums me out, because I would really like to.
For a few months (which is probably not nearly enough time) I focused sincerely on orchestra auditions. And then it hit me that at the moment, teaching my kiddos is the most rewarding part of my day. I thought "I'll go get a doctorate," and then I could teach in the college system somewhere. But is that actually what I want? Or should I keep pushing ahead with the students I have, trying to get them ready for bigger auditions and better positions? (It may not surprise you to learn that I've grown quite attached to them.) Of course, this also precludes my desire for educational outreach a little bit. Researching and practicing pieces on a theme and then performing a set of lecture recitals sounds absolutely dreamy to me.
It's frustrating as well, because with all my wedding planning (which I'm also enjoying!) I have a mighty full brain. It's close to max capacity, and I think after the wedding, I'll have oodles of free brain space to fill. And yes, I realize I'm mildly comparing my brain to a computer hard drive. It's not an unreasonable analogy.
I have reached what I think is as close as I'll get to a crossroads in my career path. And it's been a long time coming - my professor in undergrad told me that I seem to be interested in what appears to be a musical buffet, and I can't decide on my main entree. I could teach, I could be in an orchestra, I could play chamber music, I could research. BUT, as it turns out, I can't successfully do all these things. And this bums me out, because I would really like to.
For a few months (which is probably not nearly enough time) I focused sincerely on orchestra auditions. And then it hit me that at the moment, teaching my kiddos is the most rewarding part of my day. I thought "I'll go get a doctorate," and then I could teach in the college system somewhere. But is that actually what I want? Or should I keep pushing ahead with the students I have, trying to get them ready for bigger auditions and better positions? (It may not surprise you to learn that I've grown quite attached to them.) Of course, this also precludes my desire for educational outreach a little bit. Researching and practicing pieces on a theme and then performing a set of lecture recitals sounds absolutely dreamy to me.
It's frustrating as well, because with all my wedding planning (which I'm also enjoying!) I have a mighty full brain. It's close to max capacity, and I think after the wedding, I'll have oodles of free brain space to fill. And yes, I realize I'm mildly comparing my brain to a computer hard drive. It's not an unreasonable analogy.
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