Saturday, February 28, 2009

Wet Air

This place, for gods sake. All the heat and humidity. It could not be more unlike Eugene if it tried. Meteorologically, and otherwise.


I'm enjoying myself immensely, don't get me wrong. There's been so much to see and do and see. Jesus, I'm boring-just driving around and shopping, seeing the buildings and the streets and the tangled bayou is rich entertainment for me. Drinking it all in. Which is more than I can say for the tapwater.


Seen a bit of Houston, bunch of Galveston. Put my feet in the Gulf of Mexico, which is a first. Glassy sand and dirty sea, broken down ruins like a modern ghost town. Great beautiful turn-of-the-century buildings, buildings five and ten stories high. Abandoned. Boats on the street, detritus left where it lay. Empty businesses and quiet streets. Blocks and blocks of empty boarded-up sea-ravaged homes.


It was beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful. My own burgeoning end-of-days pessimism sees it as a sign of things to come. A look at what America will look like once we've reached our national tipping point. Learn to squat, learn to carpent. We're all going to have to figure it out, once everything wraps up here in a minute.


Then we went to some museums, the Menil and others. I miss that about the city, extraordinary works of art and spaces that are human and artificial, but beautiful just the same. This is a pretty place, lots of strange nooks and crannys. Lovely homes, one of which I get to inhabit, if only for a moment.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

My grandfather was the sky.

That's not technically true (I don't think) but it's what occurred to me as we left the ground and took to the air above the Columbia. I haven't flown since I was 19, I think. Haven't left the time zone in all of that.

So we drove to Portland Sunday, stopping to pick up my mother (thanks, Mom) in Salem so the car could get back. Stayed with Michael and Melissa and Aidan in NW Portland (apt. in the basement of an old church) and rose in the morning to take the MAX. MAX takes about an hour, takes one right to the airport. Stunningly civilized and hassle free. Once there (and I kind of love the Portland airport) we made our way through security and ended up at our gate. John Malkovich was there, which was more jarring than anything else. Plane was cramped, particularly for me at the window, and the flight was more grey and uncomfortable than exciting. Man in front of Dave had a mullet, woman betwixt us spoke spanish and genuflected and wrote three weeks of detailed schedules for herself in her day planner.

Denver airport was vast and filled with all sorts of people that I don't interact with on a regular basis. A man in a tie in Eugene is an oddity, some sort of out-of-place. In an airport...they're fucking everywhere. It's a terrible society that would think that that particular outfit connotes something, and insists that large portions of its members wear it regularly. Just silly. Also, the Denver Airport's full of atrocious art-weird statues of dead astronaut/congressmen, aesthetically and racially offensive Native American art, and then, the cherry on top...these murals.

(Blogger's not letting me post the pictures directly-I may try and do that later. Unfamiliar computer and all. Check the link-it's incredible)

So that was weird, that was odd. And good, as this is an adventure, and supposed to be odd. For oh so many reasons. We left Denver in an Airbus, which I preferred to our dingy old american plane from the previous leg, and headed to Houston. I was more comfortable, so I joked about the plane crashing with the gentlemen ahead of me in line. This is bad form, apparently.
We flew and flew and flew some more. Guy at our window watched Cheers (I'm not kidding) the whole flight, I managed to get some more Ted Hughes in and eventually we landed in Houston. Bright, sunny, 65 degree Houston.

More Later.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Gone

I'm going. I'll be back.

...

Probably.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Gypsies

By popular demand, here is the first in a series of my most useful recipes.

Biscuits: These are great-useful, easy, versatile. My mother's (thanks, Mom) recipe, and since leaving home I have probably made them on hundreds of occasions. They almost never let me down. While the dough makes very good biscuits, it's also good for crust or cobbler topping or dumplings.

2C Flour
2tsp baking powder
1/2tsp baking soda
1/2tsp salt
1/4C butter, soft. That's half a stick, if you're wondering.

Combine the dry ingredients and the butter until you have a sort of coarse meal-it should be lumpy, but not overly so. I discourage melting the butter-it does blend more easily, but the end result is inferior. Should you find yourself w/ cold butter to work with, consider grating it like cheese into the dry ingredients.

Once you have your meal, add a combination of liquids that add up to 1C. Traditionally this is

1/4C milk
3/4C yogurt

and this works very well. Don't be afraid to adjust the proportions or try something different-broth works well, as do sour cream or even wine, under the right circumstances. Consider what you're making (savory or sweet, breakfast or brunch or dinner) and choose your wet ingredients accordingly. The yogurt serves as an acid to activate the soda, so bear in mind your wet ingredients' ph balance. This recipe is also good for using up old milk-a little sour doesn't matter if you're going to bake with it, so I'll often make biscuits in response to finding a carton of milk gone too long.

Roll out the dough and knead a little-not much, you're not looking to make gluten. Then press or roll it flat, 'bout 1/4-1/2 an inch, and cut with a cookie cutter or similar device. My morlock, the former pastry chef, told me it's important to cut biscuits sharp, so they pop up when they rise. I believe her. Cook them for 10-15 minutes, however long it takes to get them GBD. Good w/ jam or butter or gravy (another topic, best discussed later. My future self doesn't want me to roux-in the surprise)

So that's the basics-there are any number of adjustments and variations. A little whole wheat flour, for example, is great. Once you get the technique for biscuits, you can add in other things without changing how the dough behaves, or changing it to your preference. Some of my favorites include...

Bacon Cheese Biscuits: cook some chopped bacon and add it and grated cheese to the dry ingredients. I'll often cook the bacon in a skillet and deglaze the pan w/ the milk that gets added to the biscuits. It lends even more bacon flavor. These make great traveling food-I'll probably make a batch for the flight to Houston.

Scones: adding a little sugar-a tablespoon or two-sweetens the dough a little and adding an egg to the wet ingredients makes it more batter-like and acts as an emulsifier. I'll add orange or lemon zest, maybe currants or chocolate chips (on special occaisions, of course) and then just drop them onto a cookie sheet instead of rolling them out. Cook a little lower, maybe 400 or 375.

Hamburger Pie: Oh I love hamburger pie. Easy, filling, kinda fancy looking. Great as leftovers.

So you make a biscuit dough recipe, all orthodox and everything. Then roll it out thin, thinner than normal. Once you have the dough all out, put about 1/2 of it into a greased pie pan and cook it in a cooler oven, again about 375. Let it brown just a little, just enough to get a good crust but not fully done. Meanwhile, saute some hamburger and onions and salt and pepper and mushrooms and peppers (whatever you like, really. That's what I like) in a pan. Not too much-this is going in the pie pan in a moment, right? Once they're both done, put them together-hamburger mixture in the pie-pan-biscuit-crust, and top with...cottage cheese and egg, mixed together. Sprinkle on some paprika for color, and throw it back in the oven for a few minutes, 'till the egg/cottage mixture's browned a little and firmed up.

Christ, this has made me hungry. I'd better make some breakfast.




Draft

one more person
added to my standing army
sit down, for god's sake
there's nothing to do

yet

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Damask

Rough week. All the way around. Up early, feverish and flustered. I'm sick, I'm short-timing it, and I have to get ready. Have to prepare for traveling, but can't do much. Because I'm sick, you see.

Dave and I going to Houston, TX in the near future, leaving Monday. Gonna get some culture, pay some sales taxes. Gotta get ready, gotta get right. Wish me luck-at this rate, I'll be dead 'fore I can travel, die on the plane. Then y'all'll have to make war on the sky.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Sesquicentennial Again

My angst has 150 flavors today, all bundled together in a franchise storefront parlour-truck. It's roaming my neighborhood, playing "Teddy Bear Picnic" and frightening children, so I've taken the mace from the desk next to mine and beaten it (the angst) about the head-and-shoulders till the blood from its wounds mingles with the bloody footprints it its been leaving all over the sidewalk.

I have a lot of blood.

There's quicksilver in it-my blood that is. There's quicksilver in my blood, my bones are made of iron and my heart is made of gold. I've said it before, but today, it bears repeating. Polar bears, because I don't get cold. Because of all the blood, you see.

I'll tell you a secret, a topical secret...when I'm attracted to a woman, I'll give her a name. She'll live in my head like an icon, like a symbol or an archetype. So...Verthandi or the Rosy-Hued Dawn, or Burns-Like-a-Ribbon, or winter, or the act-of-god disaster that ruins my stochastic model. This one, I know...She Flies with Her Own Wings.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Spider Jerusalem

Look it up-it's relevant. Lots to do, lots to say. Good day, full day-rich and fun and filled with the laughter of those I love. You know me, you know my laugh. It's good on its own, better when it's part of a chorus.

And my natural disaster, wreaking havoc as always. Gotta find a way to deal with the absence of disappointment-think I'll have to move on. The violent ferner will help, perhaps. AND...check this shit out-it's fantastic. Was supposed to have aired during the Super Bowl. What a damn shame.


Monday, February 9, 2009

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Snickerdoodles

Man, I love my new header image. I do-it's Cerebus, and it's awesome.

Cerebus is a misanthropic barbarian aardvark who travels to a fictional baroque city named Iest. There he becomes embroiled in politics, ends up Prime Minister, then Pope.

Iest has two levels, a Lower City and an Upper. The dividing line is the massive hill made of basalt skulls that forms a natural wall around the Upper City (you may be able to make some of the skulls out in the image above). While Cerebus is Pope, the wall begins to grow, adding skulls and meters at what becomes an alarming rate. At the climax, the wall (which has become a tower) breaks loose of the earth and carries Cerebus (and, briefly, Flaming Carrot) to the moon. Orson Welles is there as a sort of omniscient Judge who tells Cerebus that he will die alone, unmourned and unloved.

...

Someone I like a great deal told me recently that I thrive on human suffering, and it's sticking with me.

(This is up there, by the way, with things like "You kill angels." or "You're a silver-tongued devil." or "You're the opposite of rainbows." for strange, beautiful, awful things that have been said to me in all seriousness. It's weird being me.)

I have a habit, a patter that I use when people come at me with their problems. Good proportion of all the conversations I have are people's problems-that's fine, I can handle that. I have a patter, after all.

But I do enjoy it, I've gotten used to it. And I may thrive on it. Imagine me now, wide eyed and terrified.




Friday, February 6, 2009

The Kindly Ones

Threefold were my trials and tribulations today. It was tri-diculous. One to try me, one to temper me, and the last one, as always, shook me to my core. Gaze like an earthquake, grin like boiling stone. Vinegar and baking soda, brought to the future where every week's science fair crosses Willamette and I end up with a goddamn Honorable Mention.

By the way, recent tropes include The Prisoner and Cerebus. I'll be a crack in the norm, let the strange light in. Look 'em up.

Then wheels within wheels and the wind and the hustle. I hate having to rush and wrangle for something that doesn't really merit this sort of attention, but I did see some of my favorite people, my roommate in his natural habitat. And I am like the goddamn wind, if the wind made guacamole.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

I am a terrible person

Christ, but this is funny.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Cattle and Loveplay

Christ, but I'm moody. Like the Kwisatz Haderach. Up and down, wax and wane. Like Bruce. He's one of the Five Bruces that Rule the World.

Don't ask me. It's not my bit.

Anyway, I'm all over the place today, yesterday, probably tomorrow. All the same old crap, really. It just sits/gets to me differently from day to day, and that's what's worrisome. My emotions seem to have little to do with my circumstances.

Ha. I'm better with situations than I am with plans. And I'm good at plans.

Blame it on the season, and the S.A.D. or the L.S.D. or just me. Just me. Don't get me wrong, I'll be alright. Just here at my nadir for a moment. Ill too, things in my lungs...they've gotten uppity, my lungs have. What I get for not smoking.


Monday, February 2, 2009

Window

Lurking out there in the night, wandering my neighborhood. Can't sleep, won't sleep. Cat came with me, walked 'till he was tired. Damn chocolate shadow scurries along next to me.

I have a new library card.