Book Roundup

15 Jan

Oh heavens. 2013 has not been kind to me so far. We are two weeks in, and I spent the first week bed-ridden with a nasty cold (albeit not the super-flu that’s going around) and a couple of days ago I sprained my ankle walking down stairs (no one has ever accused me of being graceful.) Hopefully this just means I’m getting disasters out of the way now in preparation for an amazing 50 remaining weeks. But despite a brief respite in California with my family when both legs were functional, and I was only suffering from a lingering cough, I have spent most of my time in bed watching “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” and reading. Thanks to my new addiction to Good Reads (Join and be my friend!) I’ve been reading a lot of amazing books lately. I only like to recommend books that I absolutely loved, and I’m amazed that I have three to write about. In that sense, 2013 has been awesome.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed

Boot_jkt-330I’ve written about Cheryl Strayed before. She is one of the most honest, intuitive writers I’ve encountered in a long time. “Wild” is a memoir of her time hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. She was 26, lost, confused, and simply out of ideas. So, quite ill-prepared, she decided to take a summer to hike the trail and figure her shit out.

As someone who is also 26 and likewise lost and confused, I found her hell-bent journey fascinating. She doesn’t hide or sugar-coat any of the bad decisions she made in her life, and like a lot of 20-somethings she embarked on a somewhat foolish journey. The wisdom of what she learns about herself and how she reconciles her past with her blurry future was fascinating to me. I couldn’t put it down.

Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick

Nothing_to_EnvyWow, man. North Korea is an insane place. I’m sure you already know that. We all laugh about the antics of Kim Jong-Il, but this is one of the most isolated places on Earth. We really have no way to know what’s going on in there, and they don’t know what’s going on out here!

Demick interviewed six escapees from North Korea about their lives inside. It’s mind-blowing. I read this in a day. My jaw was on the ground. It’s heart-breaking to know the immense amount of suffering going on, and the fact that the people there are so brainwashed that they think they are the lucky ones in the world. When I lived in the Czech Republic, we studied the failures of communism, but this takes it to a whole new level of failure.

How to be a Woman by Cailtlyn Moran

how-to-be-a-womanI have decided that this book should be recommended reading for most everyone. First of all, it’s a hilarious memoir of her life. Second, she makes some damn fine points about feminism and the state of women in the world today. Third, it’s not an intimidating book at all. People are TERRIFIED of the term feminism, but they really shouldn’t be. It’s quite simple, wanting women to have equal standing in the world. I read this book while I was lying in the sun in California, quietly nodding to myself and occasionally letting out a “Mmmmhmmmm” or an “Aymen!”

“What is feminism? Simply the belief that women should be as free as men, however nuts, dim, deluded, badly dressed, fat, receding, lazy, and smug they might be.

Are you a feminist? Hahaha. Of course you are.”

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New Years Resolutions 2013

2 Jan

2013-01-01 02.20.12How was your New Year’s, friends? Mine was lovely. I was briefly worried that I wouldn’t have plans, but a couple of my lovely lady friends came through, and we ended up going to a fancy party in Astoria. My favorite mental image of the night was sitting on a coffee table, looking up above me to see twenty or so flutes of champagne all clinking and feeling amazed that not one drop was spilled on my $20 dress.

People can be so cynical about resolutions. But what’s so wrong about making an attempt to better oneself? Last year I wrote my resolutions on a torn page of binder paper, and taped it above my printer, and while I strayed and maybe didn’t come through on all of them, they did serve as a reminder of what I wanted to improve. I really did cook for myself more, and I wrote nearly every day! I kind of wanted to write something about the inherent hope in resolutions, but then I read what my old friend Eric wrote here, and it’s something I don’t even want to try to match.

So here are my 2013 resolutions. They are written on a fresh piece of binder paper, taped over the sheet labeled 2012, because I don’t think those old resolutions should disappear with the start of a new year.

  1. Read more Poetry.
  2. Write with abandon. Stop self-censoring.
  3. Be Patient. Keep working hard, but have a little patience with life.
  4. Commit to a volunteer project.
  5. Be more grateful.
  6. Cook more Asian food.
  7. Do Yoga. Find a studio. Buy a package. Make it happen.
  8. Read at night instead of watching television shows from the 90’s on Netflix.
  9. Make a more genuine effort to stay in touch.
  10. Finish two semesters of school

More than any of that, this Susan Sontag quote struck me as something to keep in mind:

“I want to make a New Year’s prayer, not a resolution. I’m praying for courage.”

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Mango Chutney

30 Dec

imageWelcome to a lazy Sunday in Queens. I have been a complete recluse of late, and as I’m typing this, I’m realizing by “of late” I mean one week. I haven’t gone out in one week. I’m used to going out a lot, and the last week, my bed and a pile of books is just much more appealing to me.

Today I decided to break the spell of constantly ordering in by cooking something in my crock pot. It’s a crock pot kind of day. Throw something in there, get a bunch of stuff done around the apartment, then have a beautiful home-cooked meal. I decided upon a “Sweet Chicken Curry.” I put on my winter coat and began the 10 minute walk to the nearest grocery store.

A word about my neighborhood. I live in a little-known area of Queens that is the intersection of Asian, Indian, and Latino communities. Everyone in my building is Chinese, and most everything around me is Chinese in one way or another. The markets are small and niche, they have plenty of rice noodles, but no cheese. I need cheese in my life, so I typically walk the 10 minutes to the Latino neighborhood that has a somewhat larger grocery store. It usually has what I need, but it is also niche and doesn’t have major things like fish.

So I arrive at the grocery store and find everything on my list, except mango chutney. I needed half a cup of mango chutney. I started beating myself up. How could I be so stupid as to pick a recipe with an ingredient so classicly Indian. Of course my Latino grocery store wouldn’t have it. They have bags of rice labeled “Arroz” not “Basmati.” I had left my cell phone at home (because I sometimes need to prove to myself that I’m not a slave to it) and was trying to rack my brain for what I could use to replace it. It’s just a jelly-like thing, right? Could I use jam? Could I use fresh mango and extra curry powder or something?

Then I realized how silly I was being. It’s a 15-minute walk from that grocery store to an Indian neighborhood. I can tough it out. So I put some “Exile on Main Street” on my ipod and began the journey. I stopped in every grocery store along the way, just to check and was amazed at what I found. There’s this gigantic Asian supermarket close to me with an amazing fish and meat market, free samples of dumplings, every sauce imaginable. It made me realize how foolish I am to spend so much time on American foods and not taking advantage of what is around the corner from me. I make it to the Indian markets and wander in and out, finding mint chutney, mango puree, pickled mangoes, and even more specialty markets I wish I’d taken advantage of sooner.

So I stop into my seventh market of the day, scour the aisles, until I found a promising section with glass jars. There it was, the above jar. I thrust a mittened fist in the air in victory. I was the idiot white girl in line at the all Indian-store and absolutely all smiles.

My spicy chicken curry is slowly warming in my crock pot, and I feel so accomplished today. I’ve been reading a lot of books about redemption lately, about people going to far away places or doing crazy things to save themselves. But sometimes even the smallest adventures are equally redemptive.

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27 Before 27: Lie Down and Listen to an Album…

28 Dec

rolling-stones-let-it-bleedIn my 27th year of life, I’m attempting to do 27 new things. Full list here.

Let me start by saying that this was a weird one to put on the list. I think what happened was that I was compiling my 26 before 26 list and absolutely couldn’t come up with a 26th thing. So I threw this on there. Have I never lied down and listened to an album? I don’t know. I remember some tumultuous teenage days lying on the floor of my bedroom soaking in Velvet Underground.

This idea came up, because I’m not a big album person. I’ve been told by people that this is a sin to music, that I’m not appreciating an artist’s full composition. I can’t help it. I don’t want to sit through songs I don’t like, that’s what the forward button was invented for!

I’ve also found very few albums in my life where I really enjoyed the whole thing, didn’t want to skip any huge chunks. They always take me by surprise, and I end up falling completely in love. “Blonde on Blonde” by Bob Dylan. “Live from Folsom Prison” by Johnny Cash. “Jolene” by Dolly Parton. “Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen. “Doolittle” by the Pixies. I’m struggling to come up with more. Those are the ones that captured months of my life, and I was happy to have them. Now I have a new one. “Let it Bleed” by the Rolling Stones.

About a week ago, I began reading Keith Richards memoirs, “Life.” Oh man, it is awesome, and I cannot recommend it more. Not the most poetic writing of our time, but it’s fascinating. His theories on life and music, the fact that he wrote “Satisfaction” in his sleep, amazing. The first chapter is about being arrested for possession in some Southern state. I was laughing out loud on the subway. I’m not one to read and laugh out loud.

Anyways, it got me in the mood for the Rolling Stones, not to mention that “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” came on my ipod at a necessary moment in time about a week ago, and I’ve been listening to it on repeat since. If I have to cross this thing off, I’d like to write about this album.

I thought about how to do it. Stretched out on my bed late at night with a glass of whiskey on the nightstand, maybe I’d listen to it at a friend’s apartment who has a record player. But I ended up listening to it on a bus back to Philly on Christmas Night.

I figured the time was right, and I wanted to do it, so I unshuffled my ipod and put the album on while staring out the window as the beautiful New Jersey landscape rolled by.

I’m not a music reviewer, and I am nowhere near an expert, but damn that’s a lovely album. “Gimme Shelter” pumps you up, “Love in Vain” makes you feel pure, beautiful heartbreak, then “Country Honk” brings back the good times. Perhaps this album is just my aesthetic right now. A little bluesy, a little folksy, but a little harder edged. Then to end the album on “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”….I don’t even know what to say, it feels like therapy. It’s all I’ve been listening to, the album that is, on repeat. I might go lie down and do it right now.

“You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need.”

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Welcome back Raul!

26 Dec

IbanezIt’s only today that I found out that Raul Ibanez signed a one-year contract with the Mariners. I agree that it’s a strange way to spend $2.75 million in the offseason, on a 40-year-player… with sad home/road splits…and limited defensive offerings. But let’s not focus on the negative. I’m excited! I have a soft-spot for Raul, because I believe he is semi-responsible for me getting a job with the Mariners.

In July 2007, I had just returned from a whirlwind trip across Europe. It completely changed my outlook on life, and it also left me completely broke. Back in Seattle, I was hard at work as a barista, but those meager latte tips were not cutting it. I searched CraigsList and found out that the Seattle Mariners were hiring part-time employees to sell game-day merchandise. I had been to one game back in my freshmen year of college and loved it, so I thought I had nothing to lose and applied.

I got the interview and headed down to SafeCo Field. I walked around the stadium trying to find the entrance that would lead me to the front office. I looked at the large banners hanging by the home plate entrance. There was the recognizable Ichiro and a bunch of other dudes I had never heard of. One of which was Ibanez. I liked the name, and as happens with words/names I like, I started repeating it to myself in a variety of tones and accents.

In the interview, I was asked if I was a Mariner fan.

“Oh yeah, huge Mariner fan here.” I told him, lying completely.
“They’ve had a really great run at the playoffs, everyone’s really excited around here.”
“Yep, great run.”
“So, who’s your favorite player?”

I paused to think this one through. I didn’t want to say Ichiro, because that was the obvious choice. So I blurted out that odd name that had been stuck in my head. I might have even mispronounced it.

“Ib-a-nez?”
“Oh, he’s my favorite player! Some of those hits he has gotten? Did you see that one last week?”
“Er, I must have missed it…but I’ve heard about it?”

So I got the job and consequently fell in love with baseball and the Mariners. All because of Raul. I remember working Sunday day games and seeing him and his sons play catch in the outfield before the gates opened. I remember watching him getting home runs this last play-off season and feeling like he was still my guy.

Man, I can’t wait for baseball season to start again. Less then 100 days! This year I have little hope that the Mariners will make playoffs of any kind. But I still feel like I’ve got to get back to Seattle. I’ve got to get back to SafeCo field. And I must cheer Raul’s name when they play “Werewolves in London” for him.

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27 Before 27: Eat Chicken and Waffles

12 Dec
The Reverend Al Sharpton

The Reverend Al Sharpton

In my 27th year of life, I’m attempting to do 27 new things. Full list here.

The food to-do’s on my list always give me warm fuzzies. Because, delicious food is the best, and I love trying anything new.

I’ve had fried chicken (albeit not in years), and lord knows I’ve had waffles. But this combo? It seems so odd, but it’s so right.

Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. I think this has to do with the fact that I almost never eat it. I am absolutely not a morning person. Getting up to go to work in the morning is usually a struggle. Most mornings I just have cereal and milk, almost always Special K. But when I have a day-off, boy oh boy do I love to get pancakes or omelets or breakfast burritos or big puffy blueberry muffins. I should stop. I’m drooling.

So for my first Chicken and Waffles experience, I enlisted my friend Gian who is the one who introduced me to the concept. We found a place in Harlem called Amy Ruth’s. The place was charming, and when you are seated, you are greeted with a basket of corn bread. Corn bread, ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. Does anyone get that Chris Rock reference? Are you amazed that I have the ability to reference Chris Rock? I’m kind of amazed with myself.

So back to the chicken and waffles. The waffles part is misleading, because really it’s only one. But it’s massive, and it was fluffy, so no complaints. The chicken part lived up to its half by being about as large as a small chicken. I didn’t even really know how to hack into it, but I figured it out.

Delicious! The salty crunch of juicy fried chicken, combined with the fluffy savory of a waffle, and drizzle some maple syrup on that while you’re at it. I was a happy lady. I’m embarrassed to report I couldn’t finish it. And I was only about a fifth of the way through it while Gian was all but licking his plate. But it was a satisfying day-off breakfast meal. So satisfying that I didn’t even really feel the need to eat the rest of the day. That’s an amazing breakfast.

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The Ultimate New York Stigma

5 Dec

i_bed_bug_new_york_tshirt-p235998426265153020qnxd_400

When I tell non-New Yorkers that I live here, they almost always say something like, “Oh man, I’m so jealous. It must be the best!” While I do feel fortunate to live here, and my life tends to exist on the edge of awesome and amazing. There are drawbacks. Getting elbowed in the gut on your morning commute. Paying $3 for a shitty cup of coffee. Waving goodbye to about 25% of your paycheck. But today tops it.

I have motherfucking bed bugs. Pardon my language, but this has been one of the worst New York days I’ve ever had. All because of motherfucking bed bugs.

Last Saturday, I was getting ready to go to Brooklyn to meet up with friends for indoor bocce ball, as I grabbed my phone off my nightstand, I saw something on my bed. I grabbed it and sprinted into my living room to confirm my fears with my roommate. A bedbug. I panicked for a moment, before killing it and flushing it down the toilet. Maybe it was a stray?

This morning I woke up and quickly noticed blood smears on my pillow (a sign that they’ve fed and drooled as they walked away. I looked in the mirror to see to my horror, that I had two bites on my neck and one on my forehead, which means that a bed bug was ON. MY. FACE. I ripped apart my bedding and mattress, searching for any signs of where they were. Nothing. I freaked out and demanded my landlord send an exterminator to take care of the issue ASAP.

“Well, they’re really expensive,” she told me.
“Yeah, but it’s kind of the law that you need to take care of this.”
“I’ll check the lease and the law.”
“Housing and Maintenance Code Subchapter 2, Article 4. You have 30 days to take care of this.”
“It’s just really expensive, and I’d really appreciate it if you chipped in.”
“No way, you are legally obligated to take care of this.”
“Well, you are morally obligated to chip in.”
“You just raised my rent. I always pay it on time. This isn’t my fault! I’m not morally obligated to do shit.”

So my apartment is getting bombed tomorrow. I just spent the last 7 hours bagging everything in my room. cleaning every inch, boxing everything I own, moving all furniture to the center of the room. I’m exhausted, and when I get home tomorrow after working, I won’t have access to any of my things, or bedding, or pillows. I have to wash ALL of it. The good news is that in my extensive cleaning, I didn’t find any signs of infestation, so it really must not be that bad, and we’re nipping it in the bud early. Bad news? A tiny blood-sucking insect kicked my ass today.

 

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27 Before 27: Read Moby Dick

2 Dec

In my 27th year of life, I’m attempting to do 27 new things. Full list here.

Before I read “Moby Dick,” I read “Anna Karenina.” A friend and I decided to read it together, taking on a part a week and discussing it with each other. We were both inspired to read it because of the Keira Knightley movie version that is coming out. I typically enjoy the classics. I’m a huge fan of Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen, Twain. I was that nerd in high school English that loved every last book we read. But for some reason, I really didn’t like “Anna Karenina.” I tried to. But I just didn’t particularly like any of the characters, and the huge chunks about Russian agrarian society was somewhat tedious.

This is when I started reading “Moby Dick.” When I would finish a part in “Anna Karenina” before my scheduled meeting with my friend, I would start in on “Moby Dick.” And I loved it. It was such a necessary change of pace. Herman Melville’s language is so full of images and smells and sounds. It puts you directly in the Nantucket whaling community. And Queequeg! The tattooed foreigner that Ishmael quickly befriends? Loved him. The scene where they are spooning the morning after they meet, adorable. I found myself rushing through “Anna Karenina” so I could get back to “Moby Dick.”

So at last I finished the Tolstoy torture and could fully dedicate myself to “Moby Dick.” This, of course, coincided with reading the part in the book where Melville goes on and on and on and on about whale anatomy and references to whales in literature. It was long-winded, and I honestly didn’t really read all of it. I skimmed over most of it. I mean there were pages of different scientific names for breeds of whales. Really?

All in all, it’s an amazing book, if you cut out the lists and the explanations. If you did that, it would probably be more of a novella. But it made me laugh, it pulled me in. I missed my subway stop while I was reading the end. So dramatic and exciting. Will I ever read it again, though? Nope. Probably not.

“Consider the subtleness of the sea; how its most dreaded creatures glide under water, unapparent for the most part, and treacherously hidden beneath the loveliest tints of azure….. Consider all this; and then turn to this green, gentle , and most docile earth; consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself?”

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My two days of cat ownership

26 Nov

imageI went back to Nevada to visit my parents for a quick spell, and while I was away, one of my roommates agreed to cat sit. I was informed of this via text and didn’t think much of it. I returned to New York the evening of Thanksgiving, exhausted from the eight hour journey across the United States. I heard my roommate knock on my door, and I begrudgingly opened it to see her standing there, holding a cat. She introduced us as the cat leaped from her arms and ran under my bed. I was tired and did not want to deal with this furry creature.

For some reason, this cat would not leave my side. When I went into the kitchen, he followed me. When I put moisturizer on in front of my mirror, he likewise stood in front of the mirror gazing at his reflection. When I studied a bit on my computer, he walked back and forth over my hands, meowing for attention. And when I snuggled in my bed to watch Ru Paul’s Drag Race, he curled up next to me and purred.

So this is what cat ownership is like? In the last couple of years, I have desperately wanted a furry friend of my own. Ideally, I’d like to own a dog, but I know that I do not have the time or the resources to own one. For meager city-living, cats are really the ideal pet. As long as you leave them food and a litter box, they’ll generally take care of themselves. And oh, how I’ve craved one. It was a blissful two days with Kitty. I’d come home from work, and he’d run out from under the couch and begin following me everywhere I want. Sure, he wreaked some havoc by knocking all of my picture frames off their shelf and clawing at my scarves, but overall, it was so nice to have someone to come home to who wanted nothing more than to follow me around and do whatever I wanted.

On Saturday night, I didn’t have any plans, so I bought a bunch of ingredients to make some homemade soup and planned on watching a movie. Kitty and I. I imagined him nuzzling my ankles whilst I stirred, sitting on my lap while I picked out the movie on Netflix. But, alas, as soon as I walked in the door, I saw his litter box and carrier were gone. I was kitty-less once again. I so desperately wish I could adopt a kitty, but my landlord doesn’t allow them. My apartment feels so incomplete without one.

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Becoming a Vet Tech vs. Becoming a Veterinarian

23 Nov
image

Alas, the white coat life is not for me.

It was about a year ago that I decided I would like to pursue a career in the veterinary field. I knew I would start by being a veterinary technician, but I harbored a dream of one day becoming a veterinarian. I’ve debated this ardently with myself for the last year. Some days I would stomp my foot and just know I was going to go to vet school. Other days I would look at the career of a vet tech and think it was the more viable option. So many different people weighed in on it that I ended up feeling absolutely stuck, not sure which path was the right one for me.

The good news is about two weeks ago, I settled on a career path as a veterinary technician. I enrolled in a correspondence program to get the necessary degree to apply for my license. I am so excited, yet calm at the same time. I finally feel as though I have a direction, and I am doing exactly what I should be doing at this point in my life. I have made vet tech friends in the last year, and I have watched some of them settle for this career, and I have watched others begin pre-med programs. All I know is that this is what is right for me. For anyone going through a similar dilemma in the vet world, here are the things to think about, the information I have gathered in the last year.

WHY YOU SHOULD BECOME A VETERINARIAN

  • It’s your dream. You’ve held onto this ideal from childhood when you held your first kitten, puppy, foal, piglet, whatever. This is what you’ve always wanted to do, and you can’t imagine a life without it. Who cares about doing anything else? You get to save animal lives, and you will absolutely love dedicating yourself to it.
  • You will be a doctor! Oh, the prestige of making other people prelude your last name with”Dr.” I’m not being sarcastic here. It’s definitely a plus. You will become an expert with animals, and the possibilities are endless. You can own your own practice, specialize, become a professor, write a book.
  • You get to do the best parts. By the nature of your license, you will get to do three of the funnest things in veterinary medicine. You get to perform surgery. You get to diagnose animals (It’s like a big puzzle!). And you get to prescribe medication.
  • You’ll make more money. You are the doctor after all, and the practice hinges on your license, which means you obviously get more take home pay. You can also become a practice manager and have an even greater opportunity for profit.
  • What’s a vet tech? Since becoming one, I’ve had to explain my job to countless people. It’s not a well-known profession. A veterinarian, though? Everyone knows about them.

WHY YOU SHOULD BE A VETERINARY TECHNICIAN

  • It’s one of many dreams. You love working with animals, but there are also a lot of other things you care about. For me, this was the biggest factor. My passion has always been writing. I spoke to one of the doctor’s about this, and she reassured me that in vet school, you have no time for anything else. A lot of her classmates ended up dropping out a year or two in, because they did not have the single-minded determination to put aside everything else to focus on their studies.
  • You don’t have to put your life on hold. I went to an information seminar for Ross University’s vet school. One of the girls in the audience asked if there were work-study opportunities. The admissions person told her no, that school would be her life. For me, that was a huge sacrifice, moving to an obscure area (only 26 vet schools in the country, mostly rural), doing nothing but studying, and not being able to work in the meantime. The vet tech program I started allows me to take classes on my own time, while still working a full-time job, gaining experience in the field I love. Not to mention that I will have time to travel, time to write, time to visit every baseball stadium in the country, time to play softball, you get the point.
  • You get to do most everything a vet does. Granted the things listed above are the coolest things in vet medicine, there are still a lot of things you will be capable of doing. Once you have a license, you can become board certified in a number of fields and do just about everything a veterinarian does.
  • You will save money. Sure, the starting salary of a veterinarian is about what a veterinary technician will top out at in their career. HOWEVER, vet school costs around $200,000, not including pre-med requirements. As mentioned before, it is also four years of not working. Vet tech school is costing me about $5,000, and I’m working full-time throughout while still making a decent wage. Once I get licensed, there are a variety of opportunities for more money as well. So at 32, I won’t be making as much as I could as a vet, but I will also be relatively debt free.
  • What’s a vet tech? One of the best parts about being a vet tech (this has been verified by countless veterinarians) is that you have much less exposure to the clients. They want to hear from the doctor, they want to talk to the doctor, they might eventually try and sue the doctor. All you have to do is show up and do your job. There is still some client interaction, and the veterinarian could hold you liable for mistakes, but the vet has way more at stake (their license) and will generally support you and make sure you’re comfortable.

Like most things in life, I think it comes down to how much a dream is worth it. There is more that goes into becoming a veterinarian, but if it is such a burning desire for you, it’ll pay off in the long run. I don’t want to discourage anyone. I wholeheartedly admire my friends that are pursuing vet school. But, if it’s not a big enough dream to account for all the time, money, and sanity, then a vet tech career is also a fantastic option.

 

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