Oye

Sometimes I eat out of fear and loneliness. I don't think you have to be alone to be lonely. Sometimes the loneliness comes from within- a weird social block that disconnects you from others, even those you love. I am not a people person, I know this. I am shy and look at the ground a lot. It's difficult for me to hold a conversation and so I can be in a room full of people and wish desperately to melt into the floor. After awhile, I find myself avoiding people completely which ultimately heightens the feelings of loneliness and so I eat or sleep to dull the ache- hoping that stomach pains will take my mind off the problem at hand. My tendencies toward isolation are not purposefully self imposed and I don't write this to cultivate a pity party. I write to understand why I am the way I am and what purpose my personality could possibly serve.
I remember one sermon I went to at my old church that left me feeling utterly guilty. "You have to get out there! You may not like it but you have to connect, you have to blah blah blah." Connect? I wish. Networking is not me. I do not network. I'd like to yes, but I find myself inhibited by the binding upkeep that comes with networking. I know that somewhere in this debacle of a personality disorder is a reason, I have yet to find it though. Until then, I'm afraid I'll go crazy and eat myself to death.

I was thinking this evening that if you were the last person on earth and you had all of the fancy department stores to yourself, would the latest and most expensive clothing still have any meaning to you? I mean, no one is going to be around to see you swing that Gucci purse down the street while you strut your stuff in Jimmy Choos. The naked world could care less. I could care less right now, but still. So if purpose and meaning is defined by the society you live in, what would you define as important if you were the only person to care? And once you find that answer, why is it so hard to implement it in the present, even when you know that when society tells you it's stupid, it doesn't matter?

Sometimes getting the inner spark within to ignite takes a dog deliberately peeing on your foot

There are some days when I just desperately want to be left alone. Not on anyone’s accord. Not out of irritation. I just want to be alone. Today is an alone day. I’m not really sure why, but Boomer just walked up out of no where and peed on my foot while I was putting away laundry. Either he really hates me, or he needs to think of a more appropriate way to let me know he has to go.  Now that my foot is clean, I have to figure out a way to wash my dry clean only jacket to get the pee out too. Two birds with one stone- thank you Boomer, what ever I did, be it the walk or playtime, sorry to make you so moody.

I really wish I was back in Coeur d’ Alene today. It’s my baby sisters first date and I want to be the one to pick out the sandals that will give her ankles scars that last years because that’s what sisters do. I’m really, really bummed I can’t be there to share in the excitement. Laundry and floor washing aren’t exactly turn-ons.

Yesterday, I came to the realization that I wasn’t ready to get out there and meet new people. I wasn’t ready to go and join clubs or get active- until, that is, today. I’m not really good with people, I wish I was. I’m so shy that I come across as aloof while my husband on the other hand can talk to anyone he wants with complete ease. It’s not that I’m self conscious, I just don’t feel like I ever have anything to say. I took the title for most uninteresting person in the Universe.

I also realized that I need to find work if I’m ever going to afford the things I want to do. So, I’m going to try to apply to the flower shop close by. Cleaning the house endlessly is growing old.  On top of that, whether it be out of frustration or abandonment, the old adage of relying on myself to get things done is becoming clearer. And I have the distinct urge to cut off all of my hair. I just feel like throwing my hands in the air sometimes. There are some things I just have to find the personal motivation to do. I don’t have my mother around to poke me in the butt with a sticker, and my husband is worse than I am. So here’s to getting things done, even if I hate doing them. 

Hey, I hope that runny nose you are having is really worth the appointment thankyouverymuch

Days like today make me wonder why on earth anyone would want the government to control their healthcare. Now, I’m not sure if TriCare is government regulated, but since it is associated with the military, it’s about as efficient as any government program. Let me give you a personal example…

“Um, yes, I need to make an appointment, as soon as possible please. I can even come after four.”

“Okay, what’s the problem?”

“Well, um, I’m having severe abdominal cramps and I’m peeing blood.”

“*silence* “Ohhhh,”

“Yeaaaa.”

“Let me pull up the schedule…. We can see you two days from now. Can I send you to a different provider? Yes? Ok, we’ll schedule you for Wednesday.”

Meanwhile, the little voice inside my head is crying, but, but, I’m FREAKING PEEING BLOOD!!!

Efficiency. And the after hours clinic was closed, and I feel twenty times worse than this morning. Ugh, I feel like death.

Early morning

Josh had watch at one thirty this morning so I woke up with him at 12:30. I told him I would stay up until he got home so that we can spend the day resting together. It’s sad to think that our time together is slowly coming to an end so I can’t afford to waste any time spent together. He reports in April, and from there, I don’t have a clue what will happen. I don’t know how much I’ll get to see him- I don’t even know if he’ll send me home. So staying up late is worth it, and it gave me a chance to wash the floors, do laundry, and clean the dishes. 

My weekend, a week late

It feels like somebody has glued my eyelids shut. I’ve barely been able to stay awake today. This week has certainly had it’s ups and downs, it seems to me more downs. I just don’t have the oomph to do anything lately as I struggle with feeling absolutely pointless. It just seems that my creativity has died with my motivation. Nothing has been the same since July and it never seems to get any better. Some days, I just can’t fight it- this week has definitely been one of those weeks. With that, I wrote in my journal on the ferry last night so I could update this blog and stave off family pestering.

            “I’m on my way to Seattle, trying to write a straight sentence while the ferry bounces on calm seas. So I haven’t posted in awhile, shame on me, I know. This weekend was awesome. On Saturday, it was confirmed that if a man is given a stick shift and winding mountain roads he will pretend he is racing the Audubon. Pot holes become a very dangerous game of hide and seek and long stretches of straight road beg acceleration. All motion sickness aside, the drive was absolutely beautiful.

            Our destination was the ancient rainforests of the Olympic Park. AS we pulled closer, we stumbled upon a wasteland of half submerged tree trunks and abandoned boulders- the last evidence of man’s hand in the making of Lake Cushman. The site had a strange attractiveness of its own, much like an industrial park, but was tragic. When you look upon a ravaged landscape that has yet to heal, something inside of you withers with it, as if you too were a partaker and receiver of the  destruction. It was nothing short of a jeweled necklace on a decomposed corpse- empty, gray, lifeless. Josh commented that it is not often can a person see the sins of fellow men, but here the nature of man was bitingly apparent.

            We found refuge behind the park gates no less than a mile from the ancient boneyard. The ambience of the wood was a bracing breeze and trickling water over worn river-rocks. The ancient beasts slept, their needles impervious to the wind. Three of me couldn’t have wrapped themselves around their roots. To be in the midst of those who have seen years of forgotten history and written it within themselves is an experience that can only be fully appreciated first hand. Each jaunt into the woods is different for each man; each has something different to learn from his ancient homes. Now I know why Thoreau left civilization to commune with nature, searching for himself in the unforgiving truth of the wilderness. There is something there that no amount of “civility” can reproduce.

            The hike was freezing, but ignoring the raw air was simple. Until you have seen a herd of wild elk less than 100 feet from were you stand, or listened to the gurgling of winter mountain water, or felt the brush of wild lichens against your skin as you duck under the dead trees can you really feel a sense of peace and wild abandon. I was happy there. You cannot physically or mentally worry about anything when civilization itself is so far away. The ancient trees filter that before it can reach you. I want to go back. I want to climb, and climb, and climb until I can’t climb anymore. Sometimes, running away can be the best thing you can do.

            On Sunday, we took a spontaneous drive to Port Townsend- an old Victorian port not worn by the ages. We played (more like explored) the dingy concrete barricades of the Kinzie embattlement and walked along the coastal trails, not bothered by the fine blanket of rain. Josh explored the sailboat haven and dreamed up the idea to live on one. I admit, at first I was skeptical. I don’t find boats all that interesting and walking through a boat yard brought back memories of me dragging my feet out of insufferable boredom as dad would take all of us to the Harley Davidson store. Yes, it was horribly boring, and my stomach was turning itself in knots from the gluten I stupidly ate. So, boredom and crankiness. I was ready to go home. The next day brought excitement. I’d much rather live on a boat than have a house.

            I want to sail the world, I want to do something different. I don’t want a family, I don’t want an expensive car, I don’t want anything that standard, expected American life has to offer me. It all bores me and I bore so easily anyway that it’s a sure recipe for disaster. Maybe that’s my biggest problem, fighting extreme episodes of intense boredom, which makes me question the whole purpose of my existence. It’s not something I like to do, but I find myself doing it more and more often.

Day 2, a day late

As and artist balancing role of wife, I have learned that the optimal times to  create are between the hours of husband asleep and husband work.  And yes, I did do my art homework yesterday- here it is. A tiny little piece of hipster art that Josh won’t let me wear in public because it screams “alcoholic.” I fancy artistic and eco friendly thankyouverymuch. Nevertheless, they are for my little seester who can wear them anywhere and not have her beverage choices called into question. Today, I am working on another apron and I will post pictures later tonight. I love being able to sew without a pattern, just like I love to cook without a recipe. In short, I don’t like being told what to do. 

I like the word "rogue."

            Today has been a wonderfully creative day so far. After wasting three hours this morning, accomplishing only making the bed, Boomer and I worked our way upstairs, pulled out the fabric and turned on a documentary about the Shakers. Yes, I like PBS documentaries- it happens when you grow up with them on all the time. Plus, I love being able to relax, learn, and create at the same time.  The Shakers (albeit a little crazy in my book) saw their work (to create) as an act of worship. “Create as if you had a thousand years to complete a task…” I like that philosophy on the attention to detail.

Boomer is a very "helpful" supervisor. Actually, he has an attachment problem.

            I was looking for a “job” today, but I just can’t bring myself to work another entry level job. I have a degree, and so far, the only thing I learned from my degree is self sufficiency. I hope that I can make stuff and sell it. My goal is to make enough things to open an etsy store by next Friday. I desperately want to help Josh alleviate the bills so we can start saving. We share so many dreams and I want to make them come true. I hope that we don’t end up like every other married couple- letting our dreams die at the hands of “American productivity.” That in itself terrifies me.

But it's ok, because he's cute.

            But, the terror, in a sick way, keeps me motivated. I am currently reading Walden (Josh, Emerson… we make for an interesting couple) and Boomer, the back of his eyelids. Yes, Boomer sleeps in the bed now (and he doesn’t poop in the kennel either). All three of us sleep better now. Digress! As we share passages from the books we are reading, we dream together- hiking, sailing, getting lost. I love the intuitive nature of the Transcendentalist movement. I know a lot of people don’t care for the Transcendentalists, but I think it’s how you take it. Reason, to them, is second to intuition, but I believe reason has its place- just like the woods have a place, and so does man. It is always refreshing to step back and take a look at humanity- I can see by the first pages of Walden that man hasn’t changed at all. We’ve worsened. Second law of thermodynamics in action.

30 days of creativity!

I took a pledge to create an original art piece each day! Today is an apron. I had so much fun I might make another tomorrow! Sorry this is so short, I’m exhausted. More tomorrow!

Finding love in little things

It’s rainy out, as per usual, Boomer has finished shredding my hand, the chores are done, and vet appointments are scheduled. It’s barely eleven and I’m toasted. In my forever adventure of “let it be,” I’ve decided to train Boomer with positive reinforcement instead of spankings. So far, not one accident and no spanking guilt on my part. I am pleased. After an emotionally traumatic day yesterday, today has proven infinitely better.

As I washed the dishes this morning, I thought of all the things I love. (This is a better alternative to freaking out about everything and hating myself.) I (obviously) really love my husband and as heartbreaking as it is for me to think about him leaving soon, it just reminds me not to take anything for granted. I also love it when he calls me a strong woman- even though I never feel like I am, when he tells me that, I feel empowered and re-energized. And, I love Boomer. I was never a dog person really- I don’t even like other dogs unless they are part of the family. I find them annoying, smelly, and half brained. But even after two am zombie pee walks, lacerations on my hands, and food left all over the carpet, it is so worth it when he falls asleep on my head at night or sits by my feet while I clean. It’s nice to have someone to take care of during the day.

It surprises me that even though Josh is the most anti dog person ever, dogs really seem to like him. Boomer sure does. Boomer sleeps on me during the day and attacks Josh at night. He won’t leave him alone- nor does Josh discourage it. Yes, he tries to call Boomer names, but he gets this goof-ball look on his face that I used to get when Moxie first came home. He even referred to Boomer as “our dog.” Uh-huh.

Dealing with emotions

I have a really hard time expressing myself emotionally. Come to think of it, I think all of the Murphy children do. My sister gets piss-ant angry, I fall to pieces, and my brother is a mixture of both. It’s not that I enjoy crying- I hate it- but I never know how to form sentences when I need to, and once my tongue is done with its epileptic seizure, I fall apart. Big time. I hate it. I don’t know if it’s out of frustration, helplessness or just pure sadness, even fear, but I just cry. Lately, more than usual. I feel like I've been stuck in this pit and will never get out.

I don’t get to see my husband as often as I’d like and I’ve always got this little voice inside my head that tells me he’ll get bored and leave. I know he won’t, but I just can’t seem to get anything right lately so I feel more like a liability than an asset.

Death to owl.

I finally got my puppy, Boomer, who, after peeing on my floor multiple times already has passed out on the newly discovered microplush blanket. Josh’s favorite. I really don’t want my dog and my husband competing. I really hope Boomer grows on him- Boomer already loves him. I just can’t handle the looks he gets on his face. He never wanted to get a dog. It shows, and now I feel horrifically guilty for stepping on that. He wanted to be enough for me- and I tell him he is. I just can’t handle being alone so often. I thought I could, but not so close to finally pulling myself out of depression.  So here I sit, in pieces, delighted to have a puppy warming my leg but terrified it will hurt my marriage. Feeling, once again, like a screw up.

Appreciating life like toilet paper

One woman told a bride, “Live in the moment as you walk down the aisle. It’ll be the biggest moment of your life.” So says MaryJanes Farm. I say pfffffffffffffffffffffffffft. Man, whoever said that must have had a crappy dull life. Sure, it’s a big BIG moment, but not the biggest in your life. The biggest moment in anyone’s life is RIGHT NOW. Why? Because you’re alive and that’s a miracle enough. Waking up and thinking, “Wow, geez, I’m breathing….thank God.” Yea, I’d say that’s the biggest moment and it gets more amazing every day you get to experience- at least that much more valued. Like toilet paper, when it get down to the last 20 sheets on the roll. Like my toilet paper, which is in desperate need of refuel. Like my refrigerator- housing merely questionable looking carrots and protein bars that my freezer thought polite to perfume. In my attempt to be frugal and nutritious, I thought I’d polish off the yogurt and rice cereal. How this combination tastes like tuna is beyond me. Yes, I need to go grocery shopping. Desperately.

Slow progress. My camera recognized the face, so at least I know it's not too awful.

What you don't know is that these are stacks of books. This is why two avid readers should never accompany each other to the library.

I’ve been reading a book called “Not Buying It- My Year without Shopping.” Written by the most atheist, left winged liberal feminist I have ever read (not judging, just giving the perspective) it actually makes a few good points. She argues that we have become so entwined in our need to purchase things that our dreams, personalities, and cultures become inseparable from stuff. Her point, stating first that the mind and body are no different, is that when we find something we like, it awakens an emotional response, thereby defining how we act, why we desire it and how we fantasize about it. She uses an example involving lime green pumps. The girl who MUST have them is probably fantasizing about dancing in them with a hot date. They give her confidence. They awaken dreams and desires. Take them away and you tell her not to dream. In short, take away the goods and the culture soon fails.

 I see her point, but I think the body is just a vessel for the mind to explore and learn, symbiotic, and parted only in death. Opposite of her opinion, I think the reduction of goods forces the mind to look past material wants and focus on the now. I think our minds are so starved for true meaning that we consume just to fill the pit. If our culture was to lose 50% of our spending power, our mind would obviously find some other way to define itself, or find entertainment at least. She is very much against the spiritual end of discovery, but just knowing how humans are, I think material goods are the very distraction to spiritual completion. Jesus told his followers to drop their Earthly possessions and follow Him, the Buddhists hold that the origin of suffering is to transient things, Hinduism recognizes materialism as a step to spiritual enlightenment (basically, letting go and moving on) and etc. All I’m saying is that deep down, we all know that material goods are momentary distractions from the big questions we don’t like to think about. It’s so much more fun to think about a new sound system, then work to death for it, then realize you aren’t so happy and then work to get the next biggest thing than it is to, say, think about the state of the soul or where we came from. I think we only allow material goods to shape us. Mental discipline can break that. We can choose to practice intangible attributes- but that’s too hard compared to KOTOR.

I’ve been blessed, or maybe cursed, to be near broke and forced to find entertainment elsewhere. That’s not hard for me since I never spent money anyway, but all this time I have has awakened the 9435734593485734 interests I’ve managed to stash away. Jack of all trades. I get so easily distracted- there is so much I want to do and learn- that I overwhelm myself and then get depressed. Baby steps. And secretly, to be honest, I wouldn’t mind a smaller house. I really like not having much. I really really do. Even in the fridge. Maybe not toilet paper though.

Just an average weekend

I guess being home alone all weekend isn’t so bad. I don’t feel too terrible that the house is a disaster, that I’ve eaten everything in sight and that I didn’t cook anything. I’ve watched tv for almost ten straight hours, well, I’ve listened to the tv for ten straight hours, while painting and… eating. A lot. I really hate the Secret Life, but Netflix doesn’t have many tv series so I’m watching absolutely mindless tv where kids do stupid things over and over. Stupid. Oh well. I don’t have the car so I can’t really go anywhere so it’s been a great opportunity to focus on this painting. I really hope that I can make some money off of this art. I would really like a dog- just for companionship.

It would be really awesome to have a walking buddy too, at least to feel safe. This city has a safety rating of 7 out of 100. I kid you not, everytime I go grocery shopping, there are cops there. The other night, some guy was going 60-80 miles and hour in a 25 mile an hour zone and hit a van. After careening off, he broke into someone’s house and hid in the attic. Every cop was on the scene. Rape and violent crime are twice the national average. There are drugs everywhere in this neighborhood. I just really wish I could get walking again- I don’t to feel like a prisoner in my own home. Erg, it’s very frustrating.

I get used to the loneliness more and more everyday, but it isn’t preferable. I really wished I could have gone this weekend, but I really don’t want to complain. There is nothing worse than a complaining spouse, but I really wish I could have gone. And I really wish I could have a dog. And I really wish laundry didn’t crawl into random crevices, or at least fold itself. And the dishes did themselves, but alas, they do not. So, I shall stay up to a ridiculous hour and just clean things and work out.

No philosophy here, just shameless self promotion

Being alone has its ups and downs. Downs being severe, soul crushing, mind numbing boredom. Did I mention the constant appetite? Curse you comfort foods.  I’ve been hungry constantly lately, but out of boredom, I’ve also been exercising a lot too- conditioning for some upcoming backpacking trips and whatnot. The last thing I want is to be the sissy girl. No way, not me. But beyond my insatiable appetite for chocolate (yes, I have even reduced myself to straight cocoa powder, don’t judge), I finally had a breakdown moment. You know, one of those, “Screw this I refuse to feel sorry for myself!” moments. And so I painted. Forget cleaning- I’m almost positive Josh was a tornado in his past life. 

"Nice painting, she looks stoned." "Duh, she's a tree." "She's ugly, I'd never date her." "Um, she's a tree?" "I don't know, some guys are into that." Raises eyebrow. "You know, like hippie dudes and stuff."

 

I’m hoping to sell some of these upcoming paintings so I can get a dog (shhh, husband doesn’t know). Hey, it’s really, really lonely here. Don’t tell me to make human friends, I don’t play well with females and I’m married so no more guy friends. I will have a male rat terrier. I will.

            Speaking of really obnoxious females, my husband and I went to THE REI in Seattle to outfit him with the best gear for a winter camping trip this weekend. (Queue more boredom for me this weekend. I wanted to go so bad). Anyway, after I finish my dinner, I go downstairs to find this chick all over Josh, giggling and throwing her hair about, touching him all over like a cat in heat. Who hires these people?! I have never suffered rage quite like that before. I must have given her some kind of look because after leaving to watch her from a distance, I came back and she kept a comfortable five feet away from Josh- he’s very capable of fitting his own backpack, thankyouverymuch.

            Tonight we went down to see True Grit. If that isn’t a movie that makes you want to trailblaze and become a bounty hunter, then I don’t know what movie to direct you to. Please, go see it. You won’t be disappointed. I promise. I groaned about seeing it, and I think I enjoyed it more than Josh did. And now I'm going to do some Tae Bo as I found a way to cram half a super sized popcorn into my stomach, on top of chocolate, numerous granola bars, stew, and yogurt and cereal. Yikes.

Why do we work?

I really thought my husband would have been home by now.  Like usual, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I went on a two hour walk just to think. It was refreshing. Why do we work? For obvious reasons of survival, yes, but beyond that…? Why do we work? Why do people go to and fro wasting away their lives doing something they hate and then coming home exhausted with no will to do anything but eat and maybe sleep? When did this happen? I’d like to say it happened when things became industrialized, when today’s society pitted us against each other. Something outside of us lies and tells us we must achieve, achieve, achieve and make tons of money. Consume. A lot of consuming. We work to consume. We are slaves to consuming. We are slaves to out consuming our neighbors even. I won’t even begin to extrapolate on the environmental and social damage consuming does either. I just ask, what if, we either worked just enough to provide the money to do what we really love? Just enough money. I guess in our society “just enough” will have to be rethought. Ask yourself though, are you a slave to your possessions. If so, do something about it.

 You don't need a brand new car- the stupid thing devalues 15% when you drive it off the lot. You shouldn't be living with a car payment! Nuts! Sell it, buy a used one. You don't need new clothes every week. Heck, mine are going on years here. Most garments are made in sweat shop factories in Asia and Jordan. That need is fulfilled by the tears and suffering of someone just like you. Cable is over-rated. Reality shows are a lie, and time spent with family wasted. You only get one shot at this. What would the world really be like if we all had the power to say "screw it" and just do what we loved? I don't know, but it sounds nice.

Then after that I had to knock out a screen, climb four feet, and squeeze myself between the window and headboard to get into my house. An eight inch gap mind you. I felt totally BA.

Value

You aren’t entitled to anything. Everything you have can be taken away from you in a moment, and the things you think you cherish can’t go with you when you die. I am so sickened by people who believe they are entitled to things. It sends me over the edge. Entitlement breeds pride, arrogance, and selfishness. People fail to look beyond themselves until they feel “fulfilled”- unfortunately, no one will ever feel materially fulfilled. They forget about the people who care about them, they are blinded by what their neediness does to those who have to feed it. It makes me so angry. So, before you think you NEED something, ask yourself why? Why do you need it? Do you really?

            I guess the issue really boils down to value. Because I realize I’m not entitled to something, but for some wonderful reason it was put into my keeping, I value it that much more. I’m not entitled to my husband, nor am I entitled to this house, or my food, or my clothes. They aren’t really “mine.” In life, everything is borrowed. You can arm yourselves with false senses of security, but if a flood were to come, or a car accident, a fire… you just don’t know. When you finally wake up and realize that nothing is truly yours, a sense of peace washes over. What comes, comes, and what goes, goes. You cannot control outside forces, but while what is precious to you is in your keeping it is a delightful duty to care for it. It is a privilege to be loaned what you were loaned, so value what you have and give thanks.

He said, "Naked I came from my mother's womb, And naked I shall return there. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away. Blessed be the name of the LORD." Job 1:21

The squirrels here are...different

Day 27-

They were at it again, except this time it was worse. I could hear their cries above me as wood was carelessly thrown about. The cries grew louder, at first sounding like the laughter of children. What child would brave the icy frost of six thirty mornings and find humor in it? No, it wasn’t children. The yik-whooos grew louder and more violent; the scratching more prevalent until I was sure the only barrier between me and them would be breached. The old siding of this house was already a victim of the elements. I hid my head under the blanket, fully knowing that no paltry piece of fabric would save me from their needle intent. And then it stopped.

The day progressed as normal. I was running low on provisions and the daylight seems to tuck them away, so I left for the store. I foolishly lost my keys and had to leave the fortress unguarded. I can only hope that they did not discover this. I spied them peering at me from the branches. I quickened my pace and returned safely home. 

            2:47- I searched for ways to prepare the evening meal when the scratching begins again. Evil clawing- the sound of Velcro being violently ripped from fine silk. This time the creature was wheezing. Was it a plague they intended to spread? Did they send a sick scout in their stead to spy on me? Oh, God, they’re after me.

Coconuts...everywhere

After weeks of searching and overcoming Sunday morning lethargy, we finally found ourselves a church. You’d be surprised to how many obscure and absurd churches you can find around here (the first Korean Methodist church? I didn’t now churches were being separated by race now…).  What ever happened to, hey, let’s open the Bible and see what it has to say? This politicking, especially on the spiritual level, is going to rip this country a part piece by tiny little piece. When did it come to the point that humans were so bored with their existence that they had to make institutions to “liven” things up a bit? Has humanity really gotten this pathetic? Sad. I dare ask when everyone will finally start asking the big questions that the ancients used to. I think we’ve reached the point where such questions have become to uncomfortable for the masses and we’ve turn to technology to console us. But I digress.

            The people there were wonderful- a small congregation of older folks who looked delighted to be among friends. Very, very few young people. Very few. But I digress again! I’m hoping I can convince the husband to attend the chili cook off- free food right?

            After service, neither of us felt like braving the 55 F ice box we call home and decided on coffee instead. I FINALLY GOT MY COCONUT MOCHA :D. I became well acquainted with it as I read HP Lovecraft and let my mind wander. In the Silver Key Lovecraft painted a chillingly accurate picture of humanity. “Warped and bigoted with preconceived illusions of justice, freedom, and consistency, they cast off the old lore and the old ways with the old beliefs; nor ever stopped to think that that lore and those ways were the sole makers of their present thoughts and judgments, and the sole guides and standards in a meaningless universe without fixed aims or stable points of reference. Having lost the artificial things, their lives grew void of direction and dramatic interest; till at length they strove to drown their ennui in bustle and pretended usefulness, noise and excitement, barbaric display and animal sensation. When these things palled, disappointed, or grew nauseous through revulsion, they cultivated irony and bitterness, and found fault with the social order.” The story itself is very new age almost- that all meaning comes from the dreams which we have all seemingly lost and surrendered to science. I don’t agree fully with him, but I do agree that humanity has lost touch with itself and looks to blame everything but itself. It seems that our modern age refuses to remember where we came from, and because we have no roots to ground us, we float around looking for what feels nice at the moment. That breeds revulsion and finally bitterness.

            Coffee eventually gave way to dinner, which was a huge hit. Coconut Dal and Naan bread. I modified the Dal recipe from AnEffingFoodie.

1 c lentils

½ can of coconut milk

1 cup of vegetable broth

2 tbs of oil

1 Tbs curry powder

1 bay leaf

1 Tbs tomato paste

1 teaspoon of ginger

Add the spices to the pan with the oil. Saute the spices (bay leaf included) for one to two minutes and then add the tomato paste. Add the lentils and add just enough water to cover them. Now, add the broth and the coconut milk and let simmer for 30 minutes until desired lentil tenderness has been achieved.

The crowning glory of this dinner is the Naan bread- the recipe from Allrecipes.com. It was always a favorite back home, and liked well enough here to be made into takeaway lunch.

• 1 (.25 ounce) package active dry yeast
• 1 cup warm water
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 3 tablespoons milk
• 1 egg, beaten
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 4 1/2 cups bread flour
• 2 teaspoons minced garlic (optional)
• 1/4 cup butter, melted

Directions

1. In a large bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water. Let stand about 10 minutes, until frothy. Stir in sugar, milk, egg, salt, and enough flour to make a soft dough. Knead for 6 to 8 minutes on a lightly floured surface, or until smooth. Place dough in a well-oiled bowl, cover with a damp cloth, and set aside to rise. Let it rise 1 hour, until the dough has doubled in volume.
2. Punch down dough, and knead in garlic. Pinch off small handfuls of dough about the size of a golf ball. Roll into balls, and place on a tray. Cover with a towel, and allow to rise until doubled in size, about 30 minutes.  Punch the dough into disks and grill.

3.     I use a forman grill to grill the bread. Grill the bread until it has lovely golden brown grill marks on both sides, coating in garlic butter as you flip them. Enjoy!

http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Naan/Detail.aspx

Getting back to the basics

            I think being on my own has been the best experience I ever threw myself into. I love my family, but I was always constantly trying to please them. I never had a chance to introduce myself to me. Now I can, and I found out I’m a little more interesting than I previously thought. I found out that I rather like being poor because it forces me to stretch my imagination and get really, really creative with EVERYTHING. I really love not having the car during the day because it forces me outside, and I really love the freedom of taking care of my own things. More than anything, I enjoy the simple life. I’m not a minimalist, but I am a simplifier. I prefer to eat organic and local, I consider all life sacred, and I love taking care of the environment and the people in it. I don’t like recreational shopping, and you’ll often hear me talk about alternative lifestyles in the face of consumerism. Honestly, that’s the focus of this little Internet shelf.

            I don’t know about you, but cleaning products really scare the crap out of me. I’m not kidding. I will go weeks without cleaning the bathroom just to avoid scrubbing bubbles. This only compounds the problem, as you can imagine. By week three, I wonder if the outside isn’t more hiney friendly. By the time the toilet starts moaning, I drag myself into the bathroom with elbow length gloves, my old chemistry goggles, and full body clothing just to avoid skin contact. My husband finds this hilarious. Moving on. Today, as I was about to clean the floor I noticed I was out of floor cleaner (darn) and in an attempt to be more eco friendly (and let’s face it, cost effective, I’m broke!) I decided to clean floors the old fashioned way.

            With a brush and rag! To be honest, hand washing the floors was incredibly gratifying. All of those little dirt clogs that mocked my swiffer and smiled innocently back at me were pulverized. I’ve never seen my floor so clean. I only recommend this solution on linoleum too, but it works great! 

That rag (like Patrick Starr's underwear) was white when I bought it. My brush is marinating in floor soup.

            1 gallon of warm water

            ¼ cup of vinegar                       

            ¼ cup of baking soda                       

            a nice squirt of organic dish soap

Marvel at the cleanliness. Nicole, you'd be so proud.

 The best part is the vinegar-baking soda explosion. Just mix it in the bucket.

After that cleaning adventure, the sun miraculously appeared. Since my husband was playing a really terrifying game anyway, I went out for a long jaunt. To my great pleasure, I found a beach, with a boatload of shells. Everywhere. I was the happiest girl ever. You see, shells were the only reason I loved visiting the coast, and now I can have them whenever I want. It's like the golden ticket to the chocolate factory.

I live in such a beautiful area. I've been so blessed.