Friday, April 23, 2010

The Biggest Check I've Ever Written

We went to the bank this afternoon to get the cashier's check for our mortgage closing on Monday: $15,082.53

I cannot believe we are going to fork over so much of our hard earned money in one sitting. It's exhilarating but also a bit scary! I don't even want to set this check down on our desk for fear it might walk away.

I also had a dream last night that Ry said he no longer wanted to buy the house and I was very upset. Funny how nervousness manifests itself.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Vegan Muffuletta

We're plugging along in vegan week number two and have been keenly observing our cravings, hunger patterns and meal patterns. We've determined that we are in an experimental place where we see ourselves trying to fill in the meat void with other comfort-type foods, such as my choice of a vegan muffuletta recipe. We're hoping that in time our desire to replace things will slowly fade and our tastes will adjust to the new regime. None of these cravings are aggregious, but I see that it will be better for us to eat less and be purposeful about what we are eating.

On the other hand, we've been pushing a lot of veggies and there have been some very positive moments. For instance, Thursday is always chicken nugget and macaroni & cheese night in the cafeteria. I try to eat with my staff at least once a week at their weekly supper time of 5:30pm. I joined them last Thursday and was pleasantly surprised at my lack of reaction. I looked at the food and thought, "yes, it looks good, but it also looks to be the opposite of nutritious". I felt powerful for choosing not to eat something that would satify me in the moment and detract from my health in the long run.

Vegan Muffuletta: a picture show a la Veganomicon.


Ry, ry's s-shaped semolina bread.


Sun dried tomatoes.


Soaking in boiling water.


Olives, tomatoes and fresh herbs.


Oil, vinegar and dried herbs added to the mix.


In the food processor.


Fininshed product.


Halved red peppers.


Peeling off the skins.


They look weird and slimy.


Skins.


Oven roasting the eggplant.


Assembly.






Finished product.


Finished product featuring bread crust detail (Ry takes all the "sexy" shots.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Crazy Heart

I think after Mexico I may have blogged myself out, hence my silence over the past week. I'm still not feeling much in the way of inspiration for writing, but there are a few things I want to mention in spite of that general sentiment.

I've had an emotional week, not sure why. I can't seem to get through a movie, many songs or even a cheesy Folger's commerical without getting weepy (no, Freeburg - I did not really weep at the coffee add where Dad lets daughter know he's already covertly given "lucky-man Todd" the engagement go-ahead).

I woke up to an NPR interview of Michael J. Fox discussing his new book on Saturday morning. Something about it just hit me and brought me to a few tears. My grandfather suffered from Parkinson's to start, so when I hear Michael's voice I imagine someone I knew having those same struggles. I was amazed by the wisdom that he has for someone of such a young age. It seems that managing an illness and making it through day-by-day must impart a type of wisdom only those who have been there can comprehend.

He was talking about failure and he said that everyone experiences the hurt and confusion brought about by it. He said, "we all have holes, but the key is to not let them become voids". This hit me particularly as both a reader of Kerouac and as someone who has experienced lengthy periods of clinical depression. Kerouac spoke frequently of "the void" in this writing. It seemed for him that it was both a state of mind and also some kind of abstract post-zen-buddhist image of all the world's nothingness leftover in a dark pit that sucked him in. For Kerouac, I believe "the void" was both appealing and destructive. I know from my own experience that when this hurt becomes a void, it can be appealing and is most certainly destructive to the positive parts of myself that I spend time carefully building up.

Wisely describing the other end of the spectrum, Michael also said, that whenever we attempt to fill these holes up with ego, material things, addiction, whatever, we will always be unsatisfied. He said we should worry less about filling those holes, but rather let life fill them up for us. That it's through experiencing failure and living life organically that we become who we are supposed to be.

Somehow I'm writing all this and I can't help but think it's Michael J. Fox's words all interpreted-up by my current state of being; endless seeking. But nonetheless, there was something in his metaphor that touched me deeply. I think it highlighted the delicate balancing act we play between being completely sucked in by tough emotions or feeding them until they become little monsters in ourselves we no longer recognize. Living organically in between and letting life fill up the holes, is wise but not easy advice. We've all got our little wounded sticking points.

Some additoinal emotional overload over the past week relates to the movie Crazy Heart, which Ryan and I went to see at the Value Cinema last night. Even if there is a twinkle of redemption at the end for the down and out alcoholic loser of a country-star played by Jeff Bridges, the theme song, The Weary Kind, will rip your heart out. The song is beautiful and thick with regret, the movie is full of Southwestern landscapes that made my heart ache a bit for Arizona and Jeff Bridge's style reminded me of my grandfather who died nearly a year ago. This ain't no place for the weary kind/this ain't no place to lose your mind/ this ain't no place to fall behind/pick up your crazy heart and give it one more try...

Goodness, somebody should pump the Lady Gaga, feed me several ring pops and give me a whole stack of US Weeklies to read before I think too much.

Later on, vegan muffaletta and updates on vegan-life week one.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Post Trip Reflection

After having the opportunity to meet some of Ry's former students and spend some more time in Mexico, I have been feeling very, very proud of the work he does. Since I've known him I have become progressively more aware of the immigrant experience here in the United States, specifically the Mexican immigrant experience. I've learned that the immigrant experience is even more nuanced than I thought depending on generation, legal status, papers, and social class.

I see now that his job is more than teaching language. He serves as an advocate and source of support for his students. He shows them he is interested in their culture, their wisdom and the richness of their varied backgrounds. He helps them navigate an unknown world and helps them feel more comfortable in a place where no one speaks their language, they are culturally isolated and idiots say things like "you're in America, learn to speak English damn it!" and "go back to Mexico" (or worse they can't even correctly identify their country of origin).

All of this and these students are trapped between two cultural worlds feeling out of place, many of them literally trapped by rapidly evolving witch hunt-style anti-immigration legislation designed to deny them basic human rights. It didn't make sense to me before and it makes even less sense now. We need immigration reform!

The killer is that most Americans have no conception of the richness of Mexican culture. I only experienced a slice of it on our trip and I can say it's vibrant beyond my wildest notions. Most of us Americans don't see Mexicans for anything beyond small, dark-skinned people who have come here "illegally" to take their jobs. Most of us don't know anything about Mexico beyond our vague ideas that it is an "exotic" and "dangerous place". Why don't we learn about Mexican or Canadian history and culture in school? We're all North Americans, right? Shouldn't it be mandatory for us to learn something about our closest neighbors?

This trip has left me feeling more knowledgeable, blessed and conflicted. I marvel at what I learned and what I was able to experience in such a short amount of time. I feel lucky to have met and interacted with more Mexican people. I also feel sad that we know so little about a vibrant, ancient culture right next door. I feel inspired to learn more.

As a side note, I've added pictures to every post from Mexico City and am done. Be sure to scroll back for something colorful!

Home Sweet Home

Just a quick note to let you all know that Ry and I made it home safely at about 3:30am this morning. I managed four hours of sleep before I had to get up to lead a new staff training event in our apartment. I ran out to buy doughnuts and was very saddened that I could not partake in the chocolate long-john goodness, 'cause today is our first vegan day until April 11th, 2011. I'll just have to keep reminding myself that I'm doing this for awesome health. Who knows, maybe I'll perfect a vegan chocolate long-john recipe. My newest mission is to create one for sopa azteca, since my tast for it has been recently heightened.

I have started adding pictures from our trip to my Mexico City themed blogs, so scroll back and check them out if you please.


All packed up on our last afternoon in the DF.

Friday, April 9, 2010

La Turista and Pyramids

I've been out of commission for blogging due to the combination of low level food poisoning, my "female gift", a migraine and some intense sunburn. In spite of my fluctuating icky mood we have been able to get out into the city and do some things over the past few days. A brief run down:

Wednesday: Ry drank espresso at Tuesday's dinner and was up half the night, so we decided to postpone Teotihuacan for another day. We returned to Coyoacan to visit the Frida Kahlo Museum located in her famous Casa Azul. Not much actual art there but very interesting artifacts, photos and writings from Frida and Diego's life together. We walked through the neighborhood again and headed toward another nearby, San Angel, where we visited a wholesale flower market.


Outside the Kahlo's Casa Azul, no pictures were allowed inside regretably.


Sopa Azteca.


Tacos Al Pastor.


Outside a tiny old yellow church in a Coyoacan neighborhood.










Everything is prettier in Coyoacan.

In the evening we met another former student, Henory, at a bar in a trendy hotel called Condesa DF. Henory brought us several homemade Mexican toys as a present. The one I enjoyed the most was a colorful, wooden giraffe on a platform that bends down when you press a little button at the bottom. We traveled together to a mezcaleria, a bar that specializes in serving different types of mezcal. Mezcal is similar to tequila, but less refined. It's more of a commoner's drink that has a smoky flavor. This bar, however, had a million varieties each with their own characteristics and flavors. We sat in the tiny bar, which was really more of a hole in the wall (literally) with a big open door facing out. This place was low-key but clearly very trendy. There were plenty of mulleted or braided rat-tailed, fresa (rich kid) hipsters present. All the tables were full so we had to share one with this peculiar man wearing a huge new-age crystal necklace, a Cancun wife-beater tank who was reading a book about self-hypnosis for mind control. He was formerly American but seemed to have grown up everywhere. He spoke in a strange mixed international accent and explained to us all about how mind control is the future.

Thursday: Needless to say, we were up late drinking shots of mezcal, so again we did not make it to the pyramids. We decided to visit the National Anthropology Museum in a huge city park called Chapultapec, or hill of the grasshoppers. We focused mainly on the Aztec portion of the museum, though there were areas that focused on all of the unique cultures of Mexico. Mid-way through our visit the power went out in the entire museum, so we all sat out in the beautiful central courtyard until it came back on. While we were waiting a small rainstorm hit that cooled things off and made everything a bit more pleasant. After we made it through the Aztec region I started to feel sick, so we headed home in a taxi. Our taxi drove us a long way down the Paseo de la Reforma, a huge boulevard thoroughfare modeled after the Champs d'Elysee with lovely statues and monuments. We had the driver drop us off at the Alameda, a Spanish-era city park with fountains, food carts and performers. We stopped at a small restaurant that sold tortas (sandwiches) for a quick supper. On the way home from the museum I had started out with a little stomach sickness but by the time we left the restaurant I was cold, shaky and dizzy. We made it home and I plopped into bed for the next four hours. I was up many times during the night taking my temperature and trying to find a position comfortable enough to sleep in with my massive migraine. The long and short of it is that la turista sucks. I'm not sure what I ate that was bad, but I guess I'll have to be more careful next time.


I have much love for street quesadillas.


Handpressed masa flour made into fresh tortillas.


A view of the streets near the Zocalo.


A cheeky organ grinder.


Kissing a namesake grasshopper statue in Chapultapec park.


National Anthropology museum with Aztec statue and skyscrapers.


Beautiful purple jacaranda trees in bloom.


Ry is happy about his mangos with lime and chili powder.


We realize they are too-chilied out for him. Rare.


Monument in the Alameda.


Fountain in the Alameda.


Artful graffiti outside the Beaux Arts building.


I wanta Fanta in a glass bottle here!


The nail in my intestinal coffin: al pastor torta.

Today: We finally made it on a bus to see the pyramids at Teotihuacan! They were well-preserved and wonderful. We climbed up both the Pyramid of the Sun and the Pyramid of the Moon and traversed the Avenue of the Dead. After our time at the monument we walked outside the park to a little tourist restaurant called Techinanco, where I enjoyed Sopa Azteca and Carne Asada. Ry had Huitlacoche Mole, which he says was the most awesome thing he's eaten during our entire trip. We lived up to our gringo expectations of getting embarrassingly sunburned. I have a wicked farmer's burn; Ry says it looks like I'm wearing a "skin shirt".


Just arrived at Teotihuacan, along the Avenue of the Dead.


Pyramid of the Sun from a distance. We took the handicap trail so as to avoid many people and the annoying vendors selling big cat growl whistles.


Nopales buds.


People look like ants crawling up the Pyramid of the Sun.




On top of it, looking at the Pyramid of the Moon.


Me looking out.


My beautiful man.


Feet!


Remains of a puma fresco.


Looking at the Pyramid of the Moon.




Atop the Pyramid of the Moon with rainshower off in the distance.


Looking back to the coutryside.


Climbing down. This thing was not made for short people. Some of the steps were up to my knees.


Aww shucks, we're beautiful.


Maguey or Centennial Plant. Huge! Mezcal is made from these.


Advertisement for a banquet hall. I love handpainted signs.


Awesome tourist restaurant where we ate lunch.


Little garden outside the restaurant.


Masks on the wall of the restaurant. My favorite is the one with the dog hat.


Lobster man. Beckie, if you ever wonder if your son Ryan is a strange, strange man. Here's your answer.


But don't worry, he's found a good partner. Me showing off my "skin shirt" burn.

Exciting news: We got word from our realtor yesterday that the bank has accepted our short sale contract. So, if all goes well we'll close on April 23rd and be homeowners within two weeks. Crazy how something that was moving at molasses pace has now picked up into some quick, quick business.

We leave tomorrow afternoon. We're going to bum around the city and finish up a few last odds and ends before heading to the airport. See you all soon!