Foto-Fu: BKLYN, DUMBO to Downtown

Well, after five days of diddling, I've finally got my photo set up from my jaunt with Mrs. Nator and the dangerous outlaw, Helen the Felon. We all had brunch together down by Brooklyn Bridge Park, and the then Ms. Damnation and I walked around playing with our cameras and talking about cute animals, trendy transsexuals and poor dental hygiene.

The mysterious and oft-times dangerous Helen. Right after this photo was taken, she whirled and delivered me a devastating series of nerve-disabling blows with her ever-present nunchaku.

I did a lot of heavy processing on this batch of photos, trying out some new techniques. I like some of the effects, like the ghosting and bleeding saturation in the picture below, created by running HDR software on a set of non-aligned photos. This is actually an innocent capture of Ms. Damnation being led to the counter of a local diner... where she proceeded to demonstrate sixty-seven ways to kill a man with a plate of carrot cake and a straw! Anyway, go take a look at the set, if you have time (in slideshow mode if you want to see them in the best format, IMHO). I haven't finished all the tags yet, but I've got to get ready for my trip to corrupt the innocent babbies of Maryland, or at least the ones related to me. I've got a whole set of other photos from my visit to the New York Botanical Gardens to process and put up next week, and no doubt I'll have niece and nephew photos to natter about, too. Aren't you just thrilled? How will you stand the wait? By the way, this new set included a trip to the big dog run, so there are lots of cutesy-oogums photos of puppy-wuppies, for those of you who like that sort of thing. Never say I don't try to entertain the masses!

OMG

I can't really reveal much now, but some major changes are going down at Mrs. Nator's job. Changes that could be very good for her career. Or... not. But it's intense, freaky and exciting. Stay tuned!

Harmonic Convergence

I'm edgy all morning knowing I'm going to see my Reiki master for a session. As I've been going through months of disbelief in all things spiritual and scientifically unproven, I am nervous about what might happen. In the past it has always helped me and made me feel more expansive and attuned to the universe and myself, but in my present state I think that this was all delusional: wishful thinking in the face of a reality that is not so magical. Stressed into exhaustion, I decide to take a nap.

When I am awakened by the clock radio, it is playing an episode of Radio Lab called "Placebo." The program traces several kinds of healing methods that have been outside modern medicine:

• A man apprentices with Amazonian shamans in the hopes of learning their secrets and debunking them as charlatans. When they teach him a bit of a ceremony involving stashing bloody feathers in his mouth, acting as though he is sucking out an illness from a patient and spitting it out, he thinks he has discovered the truth about them. Through a set of circumstances, however, he is forced to perform the ceremony on a very ill European woman, even though he believes it is no more than an act. Miraculously, she is cured.
• Patients with Parkinson's disease are implanted with electro-stimulants to short out the part of their brains that cause uncontrollable tremors. The electrodes, when turned on, work. However, surprisingly, many times when a doctor tells them that the electrodes are active, their tremors stop, even when the stimulators are not, in fact, on.
• A scientist explains that every drug and medicine humans take already exist in our bodies. If our bodies and brains did not have the receptors for these drugs built in, he reveals, then imbibing them would have no effect. Therefore, if we could find a way to stimulate our bodies to produce and use these substances internally, we would never have to take medicine again.
• Believers in Franz Mesmer experienced what appeared to be real, involuntary seizures when encountering objects they are told have been charged with Mesmeric energy, even when the objects had not. Likewise, believers in faith healers claim to have been cured or freed of pain, simply through the power of belief and prayer.
• A young doctor experiments with hypnosis and discovers that it can cure patients of ailments that were seemingly purely physical, like warts. Finding a challenge in a boy who is admitted to the hospital with a condition that appears to be millions of warts covering, cracking and blackening his skin all over his body, he hypnotizes the boy and tells him that his right arm will heal. A week later, the boy returns. His entire body is still covered, except for his right arm, which is new, pink flesh. The excited doctor takes the boy to a medical conference, where a head of the English medical field, amazed and enraged, informs the doctor that the boy's ailment was not warts, but a congenital condition that is "incurable." From then on, the doctor is unable to duplicate his success with hypnotism. When asked why, he answers that he believes that hearing that word from a man he looked up to destroyed his confidence - his "childlike omnipotence" - and this loss of belief in himself made him incapable of making others believe in, and thus affect, their cures under hypnosis.

The program, particularly the part about the doctor's ability to heal being destroyed by a lack of belief in his own power, deeply affects me. Discussing it with my partner, I weep, explaining that I am torn between a scientific self that wants to be "realistic" and only acknowledge the tangible, and a spiritual self that misses having faith in animal communication, energetic connections, and powers beyond understanding and explanation. The scientific self wants quantifiable answers to life's questions, and looks in awe at the amazing changes doctors and other scientists have affected with their discoveries. The spiritual self acknowledges that there are still millions of questions which the doctors and scientist must answer with "I don't know."

If, for example, my animal communication sessions were merely psychological/emotional interactions between me and the human clients, how does one explain the cases where the information would have been impossible to impart through conversation and inference? How did the lost dog return before dying, the words of an epitaph or the entire layout of a house I'd never seen appear to me in detail? How did creatures with no capacity for complex verbal language as we know it change behaviours, even heal, after sessions? Just how far do coincidence and subliminal suggestion go?

I am excited yet fearful of how the Reiki session will affect me regarding this dichotomy - that I will be changed or unchanged, restored to faith or confirmed in "realism". After all that, the session is revelatory. My Reiki master knows me and the fears that limit me. After talking with her extensively and undergoing the treatment, I feel more powerful an open than I have in months. I realize that, although our modern intellectual society instructs us to "put away childish things" and views beliefs in omnipotence or greater powers as childlike, narcissistic and deluded, (except in, say, the case of a particular God - but that's another story), it is the very belief in such a power within ourselves to affect change that makes us capable of doing great things. In other words, belief can affect the physical world, and not just our perceptions of it.

When I return home, my cat follows and clings to me day and night. It's like she has sensed a change, feels a difference. Is it my imagination, my mood? Cleared chakras? Has something in me "opened"?

In the following three nights, I dream:

• I am on an island beset by both zombies and a "perfect storm" at the same time. However, by focusing my chi, I am able to emit blast of energy that repel both the hungry undead and the raging tsunamis.
• I am not one person, but two seemingly identical twins. Although both appear as slightly androgynous women, one is known to be the "masculine" one, while the other is the "feminine." However, they are always together, and take great joy in journeying together using their power: to fly.
• I am a crew member on a photo shoot involving models. The client is a wealthy sheik, and when he comes to visit the set, we are all told to dress in the traditional garb of his culture and act in accordance with its customs. I am extremely irritated as I am covered nearly head to toe in colourful fabrics, complete with head scarf and veil. The outfit reveals no flesh, but clings a bit to the figure - a combination of belly dancer and burqa. An assistant to the sheik passes among all the women - models for the shoot and others - and picks those that the sheik wants to join him for conversation, dancing, or whatever. He picks me and, fed up, I bark "No!" and stomp away. He and the director of the shoot follow me, disbelieving, explaining that it is meant as a "compliment" and that, even though it is not my culture, the sheik's ways should be respected. At which point I tell them, in so many cutting yet intelligent words, to kiss my giant dyke ass.

It would seem that I am beginning to realize again that there is power inside me - power that I have been suppressing for some time. It could come out as curiosity, imagination, joy, determination or anger. It is time, however, that it started coming out.

I have some important decisions coming up, and now is the time for some changes in my life. I must believe in something, and I can start by believing in myself.

He No Likey

Maurice does not like it when there is a thunderstorm.

Maurice does not like it when you run the wet vac machine.

Maurice ESPECIALLY does not like it when he hides from the thunderstorm, and you scare him out of his hidey-hole to retrieve the wet vac machine, and then RUN IT FOR HALF AN HOUR.

Maurice thinks he will find a novel and surprising new place to void his bladder.

Just you wait and see.

"I am NOT one of your FANS!"

Blah Blah Moooo de Mumble, Corazoooonnn....

1. Because I am being completely unproductive today (again), here's a quick video of the kind of "music" we are forced to appreciate several times a week, courtesy of the church down the block. Besides proving that I walk like a duck, this video shows just how bad it can get. Actually, I will say that while sometimes the singing is slightly better, it is usually louder. And it gets loudest right about when I'm trying to go to sleep at night.

Please, people - ask God to cure your tone-deafness!

2. Speaking of unproductive, please send me some WOOOooooOOOONNs of good energy this week. For one thing, now that I've actually figured out some local vet offices I'm interested in, I actually have to go there and ask if they'd consider hiring and training me. Yes, I am just jumping at that opportunity for rejection, let me tell you!

3. Randomly, I also need WOOOOoooOOOONNs for finding my second fram damn SD card. I want to go down to Brighton Beach and Coney Island and take some photos before the place is completely destroyed, but I seem to have hidden that memory card someplace "safe"... from myself. I don't have a lot of money to buy a new one, so if y'all could ask the gremlins in my apartment to choke it up, that'd be great.

4. Last but not least, am I the kind of person who takes satisfaction in another person's death? Let's just say my dancing shoes may need more re-soling than they did after Reagan passed.

Experimental Meals

I've been cooking a bit more since I've been off work, but I'm not a whole lot less lazy. So, rather than looking up recipes, going to the store to get the ingredients and following the instructions, we've been having more and more "experiment nights," where one of us whips up something with whatever we have in the house. Sometimes these are a bust, but last night's result was so good that I had to share.

Contents:

1 pkg soy tempeh 1/2 pkg noodles (cheap-o spaghetti, in this case) a lot of olive oil lots of garlic several baby carrots several grape tomatoes a bunch of spinach (low sodium) tamari/soy sauce 1 pkg tom yum soup (in this case, "TastyBite" brand) several tablespoons of mango chutney 1/2 can of fatty, delicious coconut milk a couple tablespoons of leftover Baker's coconut flakes a couple dollops of honey some dried lemongrass liberal sprinklings of cayenne pepper

It sounds like a lot, but it's basically what I found in our fridge and cabinets, save the tempeh and soup which I had bought that day for no real reason.

When I make meals like this, I like to do them as quickly as possible and make as few dirty dishes as I can. So, I'll do things like cutting carrots as if I was whittling rather than using a cutting board (maybe not faster, but it does add a frisson of danger to the cooking). Or, I'll shock and offend Mrs. Nator by using pre-chopped garlic, in which case you have to just throw in spoons and spoonsful of it, but you don't get garlic smell all over your hands and cooking utensils.

Everything is made in one pot, one deep sauté pan and a colander. I fry up the chopped carrots and tempeh in oil in the pan while boiling the water for the pasta in the pot. As that's going I cut and wash the tomatos and spinach in the colander. I toss some garlic, coconut, chutney and soy sauce into the pan as I toss the pasta into the pot. When the pasta's halfway done, I plop the soup, coconut milk, and other spices into the pan and stir. The pasta's done by now, so I toss it, along with its hot water, over the spinach and tomatoes in the colander, mixing them together and just barely cooking them in the process. Dump that mixture in with the stuff in the pan and mix, taste test, add maybe a little more pepper or honey or whatever I think it needs, and voilà! Our weird Thai-fusion experimental dinner is served.

This went really well with both cold Hoegaarden (a reasonably priced but tasty Belgian witbier with a touch of orange peel) and peach iced tea. It could probably have served three or four people, but we scarfed the whole pot.

The best part about this kind of cooking is the sense of adventure and ingenuity it brings. If it comes out poorly, it's merely a failed experiment, but if it comes out well, you're a genius! Plus, since you can adjust it to taste as you go, most of the time you end up with a yummy dish. The only downside is that you may not be able to duplicate it exactly again if you really liked it, but that is outweighed by learning a set of flavours that go well together and having them in the stockpile of your mind for future experiments. I can probably make something very similar should I have brown rice instead of pasta in the cabinet, or tofu instead of tempeh. Maybe next time it will have green beans instead of spinach, pineapple and green peppers instead of carrots and tomatoes, or orange juice and a touch of maple syrup instead of mango chutney and honey. You never know!

Have you had any experimental meals, lately? Discuss!

That's It

I'm tired of feeling crappy and stuck over my unemployment. It's what I wanted, right? I know this is going to lead to something better. So why am I constantly stressed?

The way I see it, I'm dealing with some bad long-standing views including low self-esteem and a feeling that I don't deserve and/or can't possibly get things that make me happy. Which is silly, since I know I'm smart and already have a great partner, pets, apartment, friends, family, etc.

The other thing is that I have a couple different strong desires. The first is to do something new that makes me happy, which seems to be pointing me towards a low-paying job for a while. The other desire is to be financial stable and responsible. These seem, in my mind, diametrically opposed. No matter how many times Mrs. Nator reminds me that it's only within the last six months that she started making more money than me, or assures me that, as her career advances, she is perfectly happy for me to make much less money than her, as long as I'm doing something I like, it's still hard for me to reconcile these things.

It's not some macho thing where I feel I must make more than her, mind you. It's more a holdover of the poverty mentality I grew up with that gets me. How can I be worth anything if I'm not "pulling my weight" financially? How can I anyone love me? How can I feel safe?

Blah blah blah: same shit, different day. But I've come to the following (obvious) realizations in the past day or two:

1.) As I do whenever I feel rejected, once I learned full time hours wouldn't be offered to me at the vet clinic, I decided that wasn't the path for me and tried to eradicate the idea of vet teching as a possible career from my mind. (This is one reason why I'm not friends with any of my exes, either. That and they were all bitches - *rimshot*!)

2.) That's stupid.

3.) The idea of working on the computer a lot, even doing freelance, makes me queasy at this point. Once I sit down to the computer, I have a hard time pulling away. I've spent the last ten years in front of a computer, getting fat and disassociated from real life. I need to try something new.

4. Hey, I was really excited about working with animals!

5. Even if I'm convinced it won't pay enough or it probably won't satisfy me for life, that doesn't mean I have to dismiss it as something to try for now.

6.) Therefore, there's no reason I can't try to vet teching somewhere, PT or FT, as long as I get over my own head games.

The only spanner in the works here (besides my neuroses) is my trepidation over working for a low salary screwing up my unemployment in the long run. Mrs. Nator has promised to go over a spreadsheet of our budget with me this weekend to try to convince me it CAN be done (without me being a terrible person who is a bum and she decides to leave for being a slacker, etc.).

Finally, in order to pull myself together, I've decided it's time to go see my Reiki master for a session. I've posted before about how helpful work with her can be, but I tend to avoid it when I'm feeling all agnostic, depressive and like a spiritual failure; which is, naturally, just when it would be best for me to go see her. Whatever it is she does, it usually unclogs me, emotionally speaking, and I need that right now. It's time to stop worrying and take some action - and that doesn't mean pursuing a job I think will make money just because it's what I've been doing for years, even though I hate it. (Or, you know, procrastinating on that pursuit because even thinking about doing FT computer work right now gives me hives.)

Wish me luck. I suspect I may be all woo-woo for a while after my appointment next Friday. You have been warned.

L337 and LOLCats Explained

I love this post. It's succinct, clear and funny.

Of course, so is icanhascheezburger.com , and I love it more.

That is all.

Pick a Card, Any Card

The lovely Big Ass Belle has a post on her blog about the tarot card she got through one of those little on-line quizzes. Now we all know that online quizzes are hardly accurate - they're generally more for fun and to make you think. At the same time, this is what the tarot is really for, too.

Now, there are those who take the tarot very seriously, but as someone who has studied its history a bit, I think I can make a good case for its true uses. One use was to incorporate symbols that depicted certain stories or mythologies that were forbidden by the church or ruling classes. In this case, the pictures would be less incriminating than writing, and at the same time understandable, with some study, to even the illiterate, who have been the majority for most of our time.

The other use was as a tool for analysis and/or predictions. There are two ways you can look at this. In the first, the user and viewer are using the symbology of the tarot to channel and/or interpret messages that may be psychic, from the spirit world &c. In the second, they are using the symbology to raise certain trains of thought that it would be helpful for the viewer to address. That is, the cards that come up are random, rather than ordained by some spiritual force, and the person dealing them is not reading anything psychically about the read-ee, but rather the cards serve as a sort of associative tool, like inkblots. This is one reason why most tarot cards not only have different interpreted meanings, but often have exact opposite meanings.

For example, let's say one got The Devil, as Belle did, and saw that the card was about:

"... pleasure and abandon, of wild behavior and unbridled desires. This is a card about ambitions; it is also synonymous with temptation and addiction. On the flip side, however, the card can be a warning to someone who is too restrained, someone who never allows themselves to get passionate or messy or wild - or ambitious."

The images on the card, combined with those words, could bring up thoughts about whether or not the read-ee is too restrained or not enough, recent incidents ("I couldn't stop drinking coffee/I didn't allow myself to have fun at that party"), and so on. Once you get that sort of associative ball rolling, it can lead to all sorts of self-analysis, and thus a feeling that the card brought up exactly what one should be thinking about right now. Whether you think the card was pre-ordained for you to draw or not, it can still show you something that's on your mind or that you feel, whether you were conscious of it or not.

All that said, here's the card I got:

You are The Lovers

Motive, power, and action, arising from Inspiration and Impulse.

The Lovers represents intuition and inspiration. Very often a choice needs to be made.

Originally, this card was called just LOVE. And that's actually more apt than "Lovers." Love follows in this sequence of growth and maturity. And, coming after the Emperor, who is about control, it is a radical change in perspective. LOVE is a force that makes you choose and decide for reasons you often can't understand; it makes you surrender control to a higher power. And that is what this card is all about. Finding something or someone who is so much a part of yourself, so perfectly attuned to you and you to them, that you cannot, dare not resist. This card indicates that the you have or will come across a person, career, challenge or thing that you will fall in love with. You will know instinctively that you must have this, even if it means diverging from your chosen path. No matter the difficulties, without it you will never be complete.

For me, I could think to myself "well, it's about Mrs. Nator, in which case I've already fulfilled the card and should be happy. After all, love is the most important thing to me."

Alternately, I could think "this might mean that I'm meant to find the career that is really right for me, and that there is one out there that I will really love." From there I could agonize about what it is and why I'm not yet sure of it, or decide that the card was indicating that it's going to come, stress or not, and if I just understand that and stop agonizing over it, the right choice will come to me by intuition and things will happen as they should.

Or, of course, I could think it's all a load of hogwash.

While I'm inclined to think it's just a bit of silliness, it's not a bad thing that it brought up the thoughts of satisfaction in my relationship and the idea that things will turn out well for me, career-wise, if I just stop driving myself barmy over it and just try to have some fun with it, instead. And this is how the tool of the tarot can work best, sometimes: by allowing one to pick a train of thought that will help them in life.

Or, it could be that Satan is manipulating the whole thing, including me. Hey, ya never know.

If you want to play "What Tarot Card are You?", Take the Test to Find Out.

Back to "Normal"

OK, I made a series of small and seemingly random changes to my Blogger code, which made no difference I could see, but now most of you are saying you can see the white background again. Go figure. Just let me know if all goes black again.

Okay, Hands Up

Who's been having trouble seeing the white background on my blog? The main text (besides this entry) should be purple on white, not purple on black. I'm not that sadistic.

Not that I'm sure I can fix it, mind you. Blogger code is rather strange. But if you you're having trouble seeing it at times, let me know what OS and browser you're using, and maybe I can do something about it.

Answer Me These Questions... Five?

After some delay, I've finally answered the five questions meme-type-thing the charming Tiger Yogi sent me. I just know you've all been waiting with bated breath...

1) Where did you and Mrs. Da Nator meet?

We met at work. We both worked at the same organization, in different departments. I worked on the website, and she did customer care. One day she emailed me telling me she was new there, and she had some questions about the website. Little did I know this was all a ruse, as she’d seen me around and thought I was cute! I had no idea she had asked about me and made up questions so she could meet me in my office.

She showed up with a big smile, a freedom ring necklace that she kept obviously toying with, and a story about how a male customer who had been asking her out was “barking up the wrong tree.” Not being completely stupid, I gathered that she was trying to tell me she was gay. We became friends, but for months afterwards my friends and I referred to her as “tree girl.” Did I mention she hates it when I tell this story?

Anyway, I was going through some bullshit about not believing in love and trying to have a purely sexual relationship with an ex of mine, but over months our friendship grew better and stronger, and eventually I saw the light. By that time I was having regular panic attacks, so Buddha bless Mrs. Nator for putting up with me. Finally, I understood that we were truly in love and stopped waiting for something to come down from the sky and smite me for that. (It could have just been because she’s so good in the sack.)

Anyway, we’ve been inseparable ever since. We’re going on seven official years, come November, and so far nary an itch.

Note to The Powers That Be: This is NOT your cue to smite us.

2) When did you discover that you were an animal communicator?

Let’s see if I can make a long story short (which goes against every fibre of my being). I went through a very traumatic period where my much beloved cat was sick. I exhausted every “normal” option, but couldn’t decided if/when to euthanize her. A friend of mine suggested I try a session with an animal communicator, and while I was extremely skeptical, I figured I hadn’t much to lose, beyond forty or fifty bucks.

The session actually helped me a lot. I still wasn’t sure I believed in it, but it help me to decide it was time to put my cat friend to sleep. After the pain of that, I did some research on AC, casually but curiously.

Coincidentally, or perhaps by some stroke of fate, a couple weeks later a documentary on AC with Dawn Hayman, a well-known communicator came on our local PBS station. I watched it, and was fascinated. Mrs. Nator took note of this and decided I must go to a class with Dawn, even if we could barely afford it. Not that long thereafter, I found myself at Spring Farm Cares, communicating with rescued animals.

It still took me a long time to believe it, but some of the stuff that I got just blew me away. It was especially interesting when members of the group would exchange photos of our pets at home and then tell our partners in the exercise what we were getting. My accuracy rate was very high. It was wonderful and extremely disorienting at the same time, as if reality had shifted.

It took me months of practicing, results, reading and other classes to feel it was real and I was really doing it. Actually, as you may have been reading, my faith in AC has not been strong of late, so it’s good to remember that. I really appreciate you asking this question, because it’s important for me to face what I feel now about AC and why it’s changed. I can’t deny all the evidence of it over the years, and yet I’m afraid of it. To be continued…

3) When did you first know that you were a lesbian?

Lord, that’s a tough one. I can tell you I was a practicing lesbian from a very young age – maybe six or seven. However, when I was caught with my best friend as a child (somehow we always knew to keep what we did secret), I was convinced that what we’d been doing was a “normal phase,” but just that: a phase in heterosexual development, and a shameful one at that.

I pretty much suppressed my sexuality for years after that. I generally thought sex, and my body, pretty gross. I knew something was different about me, and that I preferred girls to boys, but then I figured most young and teenage girls were involved in drama with each other. Of course, since lesbians weren’t something you saw or heard of in daily life, I’m not even sure I knew they existed, in any tangible sense. I remember only a brief, sudden rush of excitement and embarrassment when I was fourteen or so and my brother brought home a VHS tape of The Hunger. As for many children of the eighties, seeing Catherine Deneuve and Susan Sarandon make out was a seminal (heh) moment. But I couldn’t even fully grok it, what with my father sitting right behind me as I watched it!

So, it wasn’t until college that I finally got it. By the time I was seventeen, I’d been going clubbing in NYC and made lots of fabulous gay boyfriends, but I still didn’t even really get what lesbians were, or even hear much about them. It wasn’t until one of my freshman year roommates informed us that she was gay that something clicked. I began to pick her brain about everything, and eventually started meeting new people, identifying as bisexual, then, over time and with experience, understanding I was a lesbian.

Interestingly enough, as I came out, she decided she was actually straight and literally moved into the closet (our dorm room had a huge walk-in, were she moved her bed and dresser). She was an odd one, but thank you, Daphne, wherever you are, or who knows how long it would have taken me to figure it out. On the other hand, I might have been spared all the hideous drama of being an officer of an extremely dysfunctional LGBT student group, but that’s another story.

It’s amazing to look at kids today and think how different it is. Sometimes I wish I could have known and been out much younger. Of course, nowadays it seems like all the young women are actually coming out as transgender, so maybe I’d have a mangina or pumpable penis by now. It’s all a matter of perspective.

4) Would you live anywhere else but the NYC area?

I’ve asked myself that question many a time. It’s hard to say, because I’ve been here so long and it’s such a part of my identity, but I do tire of it, at times. Let’s say, if the time and feeling were right, yes. I mean, heck, I’ve already got fantasies about at least having a vacation condo in Hawai’i.

5) (Lame one) What is your favorite meal?

Well, I’m going to be lame on the answer, too, and say that I don’t really have “favourites” of anything. Life has too many variables and I am too mood-driven to settle on one thing forever. However, I will tell you the meal I have most often: breakfast, specifically cereal. I could eat cereal 24 hours a day. That is perhaps the one and only thing that I and Jerry Seinfeld have in common.

Thanks for the questions, TY! Now, I won’t tag anyone, but if any of you want questions, let me know, and I’ll make up some for you…

The Secret Life of Plants?

I took a few photos at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and its surroundings this weekend, where the cherry trees were still blooming, but it was much less crowded than during the Sakura Matsuri. The turtles and koi in the Japanese Tea Garden are especially brazen this time of year.

I was also surprised and thrilled to see that the lilacs were blooming. I get an almost primal thrill whenever I see and smell them. They always make me a bit weepy, too - and not just because they tweak my allergies. Besides being my favourites, they've always been my mother's too, so they remind me of being a small child and gathering them for her. I was a complete mama's girl, and even more so after she moved out when I was five or six. Any little thing we could share was extremely important to me, so along with my delight in the colours and sweet scent of these flowers, there's a bittersweet tang of longing associated with them.

The only other bit of flora guaranteed to make me cry are redwoods and sequoias. Mrs. Nator will tell you that I spent a good portion of our last trip to Muir Woods crying over them, partly because people have killed so many, and partly due to their overwhelming presence. Something about the age and magnificence of them touches me. Like when I am close to elephants, I feel a deep energy of life and wisdom coming thrumming from them. In the case of elephants, it could be that I am feeling the low-frequency and seismic noises they make to communicate. But, if that is so, what am I feeling from the trees?

Green-Wood 2: Electric Deadaloo

On Saturday I managed to make the bone-headed move of showing up to Green-Wood Cemetery a day early for the Forgotten NY tour. Once I realized my mistake, however, I decided to hoof it around the place myself. So I wouldn't know where Boss Tweed was buried. I got to discover all five ponds, the local wildlife and meet with some good friends in Kensington on the other side.

Here's the photo tour, which mainly focuses on critters and interesting memorials, and a little video of one of the ponds is below.

Possibly The Most Important Video You Will Watch In Your Life

Thanks to Erin and Doug, I was able to view this video and learn so much about myself. Please: take a moment, take a breath, and watch it the whole way through. You will never be the same.

A Walk with Da Nator: Green-Wood Cemetery

Not to be out-done by Someone's back yard photos or so-and-so's continually classy Brooklyn pics, I present you with a photo and video tour from my home to Green-Wood Cemetery. The photos are in their own Flickr set, and each one has a caption describing it. The accompanying videos are below.

If you like this, I may do more. Enjoy!

Raining petals

From the Altar of Liberty

Magnolias before the Verrazano-Narrows

For other tours of the area, check out the Forgotten NY 5th Ave and Green-Wood tour pages, the sexy jesus tour of Green-Wood and the Green-Wood official site.

Viral Video

Normally this isn't my type of humour, but this is so well executed it got me laughing. The look the fake Blaine keeps giving the camera is priceless.

Things To Do When You're Unemployed

The Brooklyn Cherry Project

Done just for a giggle, but there are a few interesting photos among the lot, there.

A Lovely Day

It got up to 77 gorgeous, sunny, dry degrees here today. I slept in late, then traveled with Mrs. Nator to Bubby's Brooklyn, a popular restaurant with great fresh food and a waterfront view of the East River. After a terrific brunch, we noodled along the waterfront parks under the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges, and stopped to sit in the sun by the river and watch kids play ball, boats going by, traffic humming over the bridges and ducks, gulls and cormorants diving for fish. The sun brought out the warm red in the brick of the old tobacco warehouse. It was nothing less than stunning.

(These photos are actually from a wedding we went to there in October, but you get the idea. Clickie pickie makey biggie.)

After that, we strolled along the waterfront past the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory housed in a 1920s fireboat house (alas, we were too full of pancakes to indulge further) and the Bargemusic barge. Then we noodled up past the old and current Watchtower buildings (yikes!) and stopped to watch the canines frolic in the Hillside Dog Park. We hadn't been there more than a few minutes before the owner of one cute Boston Terrier walked up to us; it was one of my old college roommates, who I'd emailed with recently but not seen for years!

We ended up having a great conversation with her. A bit over a year ago she, too, was happily laid off from her soul-killing corporate job. She was able to live off a publishing advance for a while (BTW, check our her book - she's funny!), and now is freelancing, as is her boyfriend. Hearing her recent history made me feel a lot better about the emotional ups and downs I've had, understand that it's okay to take advantage of this time and possibly even unemployment for a while to detox from corporate America (she rightly pointed out that I've been paying for the benefits all my working life), and that you can make a living doing things that interest you in a less structured way. I left excited to get together with her again, soon, and feeling like I have a better idea of how I want to utilize my next few weeks of time off. I think I'm going to start a real push to get my freelance businesses working first, and if that works out, I can try doing vet tech training part time or as a volunteer basis, without screwing up my unemployment. That's the plan right now, anyway.

Oh, and I want to go out and take more photos! Now that the weather is nice, it's time to enjoy doing that again. Plus, walking is good exercise.

After that, we wandered along the Brooklyn Heights Promenade enjoying the views, and imagined living in some of the wonderful old homes in the Heights, making our way towards Borough Hall and the Fulton Mall. It was here that perhaps the greatest miracle occurred: I was able to find a pair of jeans that fit me at a reasonable price in under half an hour! Truly the gods smiled on us this day.

After swinging by the drug store for some minor purchases, we hoofed it over to Atlantic Ave to catch the infamous B63 bus, which actually came pretty quickly. The ride over to Flatbush and up Fifth Ave was long, but it was fine for watching the happy, pale people emerged into the sun, lingering at outdoor cafés, window shopping and strolling beneath the pear trees in bloom.

And now it's time to settle down for the evening with a plateful of Mrs. Nator's homemade quesadillas and a smoothie. I actually feel more than human, again - I feel great!

Here's hoping all of you have lovely days coming your way...

Two Worthy Causes

1. I don't really think any explanation is necessary for this one. Just click on the banner.

2. On a slightly less world-shaking but still important level, the Copyright Royalty Board in Washington, DC has voted to more than tripledthe royalty rates for webcasters. Without Congressional action the majority of webcasters will go bankrupt and silent on this date. Alternative web radio programming of many kinds will end as we know it, meaning mainly standard commercial stations will take over webcasting, just as they have the radio waves. Even webcasts for well-respected and vital organizations like NPR will mostly likely be severly cut back. Think about what you would miss, and click below to see what you can do.

Here ends my broadcast of the Emergency Soapbox System. Had this been a real Soapbox, I'd be jabbering on for at least five more paragraphs.

What's That, Lassie? Timmy Fell Down A Well?

Many thanks who responded with encouraging words to my last post. While I'm still mulling over what to do, the interest in trying AC again is still there, if the belief is not firm. The main reasons I wouldn't try it now involve 1.) my interest in doing vet tech work, as many veterinarians think AC is bullshit and sometimes gets in the way of veterinary practice, and 2.) my own emotional foo-faw-rah. That said, I am contemplating contacting a few old friends and asking if they'd be willing to let me practice for free on their critters, to see if I can, indeed, get back on that bike again.

To those of you Natorettes who mentioned you are interested in AC, I offer you my services on a free trial/practice basis, if you like. I have done email readings with people from other countries, and telephone consultations were actually my bread and butter while I was doing it professionally. Telephone, actually, is my favourite way to do it. You get the full attention of the person, along with being able to get a feel for their voice, but there aren't distractions of children running around, the animal being wary of a visitor, etc. Email can be a bit too removed for my liking, but has yielded some very impressive results, and some people just love to have me there face to face. Pick your poison and drop me a comment or email me, if you're so interested, and I promise to try my best (and not whinge at you, at least not much).

Cheers!

O Ye of Little Faith

[Warning: this is a long and rather self-indulgent one. You may prefer to go read something funny instead.]

I wish I knew everything was going to be alright. I mean, of course it is; I no longer honestly think I’m going to end up homeless, broke and alone, as once was my constant fear. I guess six and a half years in a stable relationship with a fantastic woman has dulled that. I do have faith in her, and at least in my desire to make her happy or not disappoint her. Hence my ability to quit smoking cold turkey after years of addiction, not long after she began her campaign to get me to do so. I didn’t necessarily have faith in my own will to remain healthy and living, nor did I cease to enjoy smoking, except in that that enjoyment began to be outweighed by her concern for and disappointment in me (not to mention the increasing financial stress it induced). But I did have faith in her sound judgment and in her being the partner I wanted, so I was able to quit. In that sense, it was as if she was, in terms of my quitting smoking, my “higher power” that the AA people insist on.

Faith is a funny thing. Chaucer's Bitch is conducting a running commentary and discussion of it on her blog at the mo, and it’s got me thinking. If, for example, you look at the idea of faith in a higher power as utilized by 12-step programs like AA, it is used as a tool to help people in emotional and physical crisis get through it. This is why, I’m convinced, AA insists on members naming a higher power, whether it be The Lord God Jehovah or the clanking radiator across the room. The power comes not so much from what you believe in, as your belief in something. It is that belief that promotes hope, and it is hope that gives one something to hold onto when trying to make a difficult change, or even just to survive in the face of everyday challenges, sometimes. So, whereas CB is currently addressing the hypothesis that faith is “choosing to believe something is absolutely true while you acknowledge that you don't actually have any means of knowing if it's true or not ,“ I would wager that this is not the whole story.

I say this because 1.) faith is not necessarily negated by evidence, nor reinforced by it, and 2.) faith promotes itself, sometimes by creating it’s own evidence. Let’s take the example she’s been addressing of learning to ride a bike despite falling off of it. In this instance, you have two observable bits of evidence. The first is that you are repeatedly falling off the bike and hurting yourself, which would indicate that you cannot ride a bike. The second is that for quite some time now, people have been learning how to ride bikes despite falling repeatedly. Although it may seem more scientific to conclude from statistical evidence that it is likely that you will learn how to ride the bike, you cannot be 100% sure of it. In addition, you have to take into your equation of the pursuit of bike riding both quantity and quality. That is, you know you probably can learn to ride, statistically speaking, but at what point is it qualitatively worth it to you? Is it as much worth it if, say, you find you have an inner-ear imbalance, and you break your arm twice trying to learn, as it is if you are easily able to learn in one day with just one minor fall?

Here is where faith comes in. You can’t know which of these scenarios will occur, even if you can make an educated guess based on the evidence of precedent, both regarding other peoples’ riding experiences and your own previous athletic abilities. So, you have to have faith to pick yourself up after that first fall – or even just to start. Some might say that trying anything like this task requires faith, and to not believe in yourself or have hope that things will turn out right indicates a lack of faith. One could probably counter that this “lack of faith” could also be interpreted as just another kind of faith – the faith that things will turn out badly, you are a failure or the world is out to get you. I think it more common for those who have faith in a particular to view others who have conflicting faiths as being faithless, however, so for the moment, we’ll refer to faith in terms of believing you can triumph through persistence and/or assistance, AKA learn to ride the bike.

So, in terms of faith not being negated by evidence, if you have fallen but you persevere in trying to ride, you are exhibiting faith. If, to elevate the drama, everyone in your family has an inner-ear imbalance, and you’ve been told that you’ll never ride a bike because of this, yet you still persist, you most definitely have faith – the kind they write about in sappy human-interest stories everywhere. Then, if you do learn to ride, you see that as evidence that your faith was correct. You might even put this forth as evidence that your faith is what caused you to be able to ride, and thus anyone can learn with the same faith. If you don’t learn to ride, you can use this as evidence that your faith was incorrect, but you can also blame something else – your own perceived lack of adequate faith, a lack of tools or, say, other peoples’ lack of faith in you. Finally, there are some who, after learning to ride, will only temporarily use this as evidence that their faith was correct, but revert to doubting in the face of other challenges.

So, you see, it has much less to do with evidence at all, as it has to do with human perception, emotion, evaluation and belief. This is why, as much as there are more people believing in the scientific evidence of evolution each day, there are also people converting to fundamentalist religions. While I might take carbon-dating analysis of fossils as hard evidence, some might just as easily take the moisture dripping from the eyes of a statue of the virgin Mary as hard evidence of their beliefs. Every one of us makes a thousand tiny choices every day as to what to believe. Scientific experimentation certainly does seem to be the soundest tool we have thus far of determining semi-universal truths of existence. However, not only is truth ever subjective, but science still has a long way to go towards explaining life, death and everything in the universe.

So, here’s where I personally hit a snag. Although my father is a long-time (very liberal) minister and my mother a recently ordained interfaith minister, I would have to say that I was mostly raised to put faith in science. I have a strong aversion, in fact, to most organized religion or spirituality, believing that it tends to consolidate beliefs and power, restrict human behaviour and critical thinking and subjugate and control people and other life. And yet, I long for faith. I wish, fiercely sometimes, that I could somehow know what path I should be on in my life, how I could do good, how I could be happy, feel worthy. I wish that I could qualm my fears of death, pain, abandonment and the unknown. And, as much as I know that I hold the power within me to change my thinking, to take positive action and to work to both improve my situation and my outlook, sometimes it feels like too much of just that: work. It overwhelms me, and I despair for not having some faith in an outside power that would aid and take care of me.

I had some faith, for a while. While practicing animal communication and dabbling in “alternative” spirituality – a sort of noncommittal, middle-class white girl synthesis of Buddhism, Taoism, and various pagan knickknackery – I actually began to feel that the world might be a good place, and I might have both a purpose and a sound, positive present and future. I imagine that it was very much like many Christians feel: sound in their niche, protected and/or guided in a way, reassured that there is some order and they have an important, loved place in it. However, being of scientific mind and pessimistic disposition, this was difficult for me to maintain. I don’t think there would have been any way to do it if it weren’t for the evidence.

How can there be evidence? Small things: a parakeet in India “tells” me that he loves and is excited by the feeling of water on his cere, and his owner tells me that he just had his first bath. A dog tells me his favourite food is “cheesy noodles” – not mac and cheese, and his person excitedly confirms that that’s a special dish she makes just when her son comes home, and that’s just what they call it. A cat who won’t eat for days tells me he wants “the special chicken” and his person reports that she had to go back to her old neighbourhood to a deli that served home-made grilled chicken and guess what? He eats.

And then there are the bigger things, that freak me out enough that I am uneasy that they came through me: An animal missing for days tells me he’s dying and didn’t want to trouble his people. I communicate that they want to be with him before he dies, and he shows up back home that night and dies in his person’s arms. A deceased cat tells me the exact words on her gravestone – words I never would have used. A dead skunk shows me an overhead view of her person’s entire lower floor – even rooms she’d never been in, in life. We zoom in and she describes an obsessive habit one other animal there has that I’ve never heard about, and her person, in amazement, confirms that it is true.

How could I make this all up? Am I just preternaturally good at “reading” people, gleaning facts and probabilities from throwaway comments and vocal tones? Why did it work in person, on the phone and over email? Why was it vague at times and crystal clear at others – a lack of belief from some owners, a difference in my mood or the animal’s personality, psychic or spiritual interference in the ether? Most of all, when and why did I start believing in it, despite all my natural skepticism and reluctance in the beginning, and when and why did I stop?

I’ve been thinking about these things this past week, as I’ve waited for some definitive response from the animal clinic and received none. The idea of working hands-on in medical care for animals excites me, and fills me with a sense of possibility. It would be a way to help concretely, without the ephemeral, unknowable quality of animal communication or psychology. It would be at more of an emotional remove from the animals, but more so from the owners, who cling, boil and crumble in their need. Somehow it’s easier to accept that a metal tool or man-made medicine fails than a spiritual search. Somehow it takes some of the weight of responsibility and the need to help others even at the cost of my own energy a little bit off my shoulders. Of course, I am extremely interested by it in itself, but the fact that it is not animal communication does not escape me. Moreover, if I choose to pursue it, I will more than likely have to downplay or cover up my past as a communicator, much as I’ve been trying to forget it myself, for months.

And yet… there were such moments of joy in doing it. There were times when it didn’t matter to me that what I did was not scientifically provable, and that others might think me crazy because of it. There were times I truly believed I was able to communicate with intelligent individuals who just happened to belong to other species, and delight in their personality quirks. And along with the weight of responsibility and the uneasiness of doing the odd, the unscientific, even of being considered a charlatan, there was a feeling of being so very lucky, connected to the world, and maybe just a little bit special.

My last day of work, a co-worker and long-time AC client told me that if I chose to open my practice again, she knew a number of people who would jump at the chance to hire me. A few days ago, out of the blue, I got a call from a hotel that was looking to hire me for their customers, even though I haven’t worked in over a year. If I was of faith, I might start thinking the universe – or my “higher power” – was trying to tell me something. Yet, my scientific mind tells me that pursuing animal communication is like becoming part of a cult or a religion, and charging money for it is fraud, as it can’t possibly be real. It also tells me that my current nostalgia for it is probably due to my depression from being unemployed, my uncertainty in what lies next. It's just when you are vulnerable when the cult gets you, to the scientific mind. It's just when you are in need that the divine reveals itself to save you, those of faith believe.

I want to believe. I want to know what is right. I want to have faith, and I want to have incontrovertible evidence. I want to make an honest living, contribute something to others, and realize my potential. I also want to win the lottery and never have to work again.

So, to me, the question isn’t whether faith is good for human beings. The question is: which kind, and how much? And, if we can come to a reasonable conclusion on that, how can I get it? Because my lack of faith – or the negative, defeatist faith I do have – is wearing me out.

Moving Along

OK, I am officially depressed.

I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but I'm not surprised. If I knew I was going to get a job at the clinic, I might feel better. But now it feels like I'm courting them and they're playing coy with me, and I don't know how to deal with it. I'm not naturally optimistic: I expect rejection, bad luck and failure in life. So, even though it's only been a week, I find myself thinking that I was wrong to pursue this and now I'll have to go back to what I deserve: doing any job that will hire me and pay me, no matter how much I hate it.

Sigh.

The signs have been there. I'm still sleeping a lot and odd hours. All I want to eat are grilled cheese snadwiches and cereal. I'm not talking to anyone. I'm barely even leaving the apartment.

That's all bad enough, but do you know what came next?

I discovered Second Life.

Second Life is boring and poorly-rendered. People wander around blocky, half-finished landscapes looking for useless things to buy and sex. Upon actually chatting with some of these people, I've come to learn that there are whole networks of people devoted to playing out fantasies of Elvish tribes protecting and enslaving each other, dressing up like bunnies and practicing BDSM. It's like Lord of The Rings meets D&D meets Hello Kitty meets The Story of O.

Of course, this being the Internets, this is not surprising. But people take it so seriously. Granted, with extrememly limited vocabulary, but seriously, nonetheless. It's fascinating.

And therein lies the sad part, because although I find it repellent to completely immerse oneself in fantasy to escape the world on a regular basis, I see the appeal. I've gone through several periods in my life where I've done this, including protracted period in my childhood where my best friend and I spent most of our time making up elaborate stories because real life was so depressing, and, naturally, some ill-advised internet dating situations. My point being, if there is a place where you can pretend to be whoever you want and noodle around exploring weird stuff while remaining completely safe in your real life, I don't want to get sucked into it. For some people, it is a pleasant diversion. However, if I am depressed, I know that it can all to easily become a perceived refuge, even if it is, all said, pretty boring.

The only upside to this is that you can make money in Second Life. People make virtual clothes and objects and develop virtual land for increasingly tidy sums. And, it does occur to me that, with my level of creativity and experience in this sort of thing (don't even ask Mrs. Nator how much time I spent creating junk for The Sims when it I first discovered it, or how caught up I get in getting my Madden Superstar into the Hall of Fame), I might be able to turn this temporary interest into a bit of cash. The danger is, of course, falling further into the hole of reclusive geekery, which is only so fulfilling. I mean, I admit I'm a geek, but I'm not a serious geek. I'm too old, I rarely txt msg anyone, and I thought The Catswold Portal was for shit. I don't know a thing about Bluetooth or Firewire... I don't even own a game console, people!

I guess what I'm saying, in my roundabout way, is: escapism is fine, even nice, but one has to be careful when one is prone to depression and isolation to begin with. So, once I see the signs I have to admit to myself that I'm down and let meyself feel it, so I can move on. It's understandable that I'm discombobulated and upset: my routine of nine years has abruptly ended! I'm faced with a giant neon sign flashing "NOW WHAT?" and I don't know the answers. Now is the time to tell myself that it's okay - I'm not the only one who's gone through this, and it doesn't make me a failure. It just makes me a fallible, feeling human. I need to learn to love myself for that.

Bleep...zort... zztffpt... doing!*

*That, Natorettes, is the sound of my brain shorting out.

You think I'd be happy. Happy that I have just under three months of pay coming in while I am obligated to do nothing. You'd think I'd be doing a jig of joy now that I never have to go back to my job of nine years, during at least five of which I was deeply unhappy.

Well. Not yet.

I'm actually not surprised that when I stumbled home on Friday I immediately collapsed into a howling, weeping mess, then proceeded to sleep on and off through random hours during the weekend. Up at 3:00 a.m., back to bed at 5:30, sleeping until 11:00, up until 2:30, napping, up again at night - you get the picture. And inbetween wobbling around with such an exhausted feeling of surreality. This eventually paired with a headache and backache, and all the while the urge to keep checking on the old company website. Just what the hell was going on?

Well, it turns out that although I perceive myself as a lazy, type-B personality who'd rather never have to work, the prospect of actually having a few weeks off revealed my inner type-A worrywart. After all, when you take a vacation, you know you'll mostly likely have your job at the end. In this case, not having gainful employment for the first time in, oh, 20-odd years has made me a tad... neurotic.

It might be different if the job at the vet clinic was certain. Even if it pays less than half of what I've been making - and it does - the idea has been that the job would be a step in the process of trying a new career that might be fulfilling. However, since nothing is yet set, I find myself not only worried about what's going to come next, but a bit panicked.

Isn't it a bit depressing when you realize you've bought into the system? Honestly, there's a part of me that doesn't feel worthy, doesn't know how to define or explain myself, unless I have a job. I find myself actually thinking "I'm a failure," or, "I don't know what I'm doing with my life! I'm thinking of getting into... male modelling."

Anyway, I'm doing a little better today, after an actual night's sleep and a day of enjoying Torchwood episodes and unlimited bowls of La Lechera cereal. Ah, La Lechera. Come to me with your sweet, creamy Latina goodness in sensible shoes. You make me feel... lecherous...**

Over the next week I'll be doing household chores, trying to get another meeting and volunteer shift at the clinic, and working on my freelance site. Or I'll be relaxing. Or I'll be thinking I should do all those things, but getting so tense about it that I succeed at none of them. Place your bets!

**Please don't kill me for the horrible pun; it's a genetic disorder.

¡Olé! - Parte Dos

Just an update on the guacamole recipe: yes, you may add cilantro. Mrs. Nator just doesn't because I prefer my guac cilantro-free (I feel cilantro works better in other areas of the meal). So, don't feel hemmed in!

If you try the recipe, let us know how it goes. Did you make a few changes? What did you eat it with? Did you feel the need to run out and buy an authetic pumice mortar and pestle? Nosy minds want to know...

Wow. I Guess I ROCK!

I did it. I asked for more severance, and now I'm getting two month's worth! Woooooooo!!!

This is going to make a huge difference for us financially. Depending on what hours and pay I get offered by the vet clinic, we may even be able to actually go on vacation this year.

Keep your good-vibe hats on, though, and think of me around 3:00 PM, ET, today. That's when I'm meeting with the folks at the vet clinic. I'm still nervous, but knowing I'm set for two months takes a big load off, believe you me.

Did I say Woooooooo!!!?

Oh, Shit

So, my soon to be ex-boss calls me today, and out of the blue asks "have you considered asking for 2 or 3 times the severance pay they're giving you?"

Um. What?

The truth is, when I'd first talked to HR, they told me they never pay severance, and the two people I know who've been laid off from this place, including Mrs. Nator, got none. So, I was happy to be getting a month's worth, plus two month's health coverage. I never considered asking for more, because they could easily say "well, now you'll get nothing, Greedypants McWhinerson!"

After a bit of stuttering, I said to my boss, "um, not to put you in a difficult position or anything, but - do you know something I don't?"

She replied that she merely knew some people who'd asked for more and gotten it. However, when I explained my reasoning for not rocking the boat thus far, she told me to feel free to disregard what she'd said, if I feel that's the right thing to do.

So, I was content, and now I'm confused. It's not like the boss said she was advocating for more severance for me. She kind of backed off with a "what do I know, I don't make these decisions" attitude at the end of the conversation. I certainly don't want to lose the pay I've already been offered. But, should I ask for more?

Ow, my head...

¡Olé!

By popular demand, here's Mrs. Nator's Semi-Famous Killer Guac recipe. You can pair it with her yummy baked chip recipe, below, or FN's Coveted Burrito Recipe. South meets northeast meets west for a flavormonious taste sensation!!!

N.B.: As with many guacamole recipes, Mrs. Nator cautions that the key to this one is flavouring "to taste". Feel free to tweak as desired, depending on available ingredients and your desires.

Mrs. Nator's Semi-Famous Killer Guac!

2 ripe avocados (nice and black)
1 lime, juiced
1 jalapeno pepper
1 small onion
½ clove garlic (or whole, depending on your taste)
1 tomato, seeded
Olive oil and salt to taste

Finely chop onions and garlic and strain under cold water for a few seconds (cuts the bitterness) and put in bowl. Chop pepper and add to onion. Peel avocado and add to bowl. Mash with onion mixture using a fork or potato masher. Add seeded tomato, salt, and lime juice to taste. You may not need all the juice – depends on your taste. Stir. Add olive oil, just to right consistency (probably 1 -2 tablespoons). Try with:

Mrs. Nator's E-Z Low Fat Chips!

Tortillas
Olive oil
Salt
Chili powder (optional)

Slice the tortillas to desired size. Rub with olive oil. Sprinkle chili and salt. Cook in oven on high – 450-500 degrees – until toasted brown. Usually only takes a few minutes.

E-Z, no? But trust me, simple = delicious. These chips are so much better for you than the bagged, fried variety, that you can almost excuse dipping them in the deadly Ro*Tel/Velveeta combination dip. You can also make "nachos" by melting beans and cheese on the chips and adding guac.

¡Muchas gracias, Señora Natór!

 

tags: guacamole, recipe

Meme-A-Licious

Oh, look – it’s a way to procrastinate from formatting the dreaded “career change” résumé… I mean, a lovely meme that Warrior Two tagged me to do.

Eight Songs I Am Diggin’ On Right Now:
Dude, I am so lame about music nowadays. There was a time when music was my life, I lived it and breathed it. I performed in coffee houses, made amateur tapes and dreamed of being a professional performer. I have 3 ring binders full of songs I wrote, gathering dust with my old drumsticks and three guitars.

Now I barely even listen to it anymore, and tend to say things like “I don’t understand these kids nowadays and their music,” or “this new band is just imitating X band from my youth. There’s nothing new under the sun”, &c. I spend more time watching TV and on the Interwebs, honestly. Even if I do listen to music, it’s often older stuff.

Have I grown up, or just become old?

Anyway, let’s see what I can think of…

1. Keane, “Is It Any Wonder.” I think this was a hit last year. Nice little emo/indie rock tune, showing the influence of U2, who they opened for on tour. I got into this song when it lodged in my head after playing five hundred times on the Madden 07 soundtrack.

Incidentally, my new Madden superstar is our big, tall adopted son, Bayard. He’s a rookie wide receiver for Kansas City this year, but I’m hoping I can get him a contract with the Giants. He’s a killer kick returner, too. He looks like a taller Tiki Barber. Hee.

2. OK Go, "Invincible". You’ve gotta enjoy the clever premise of a song that imagines the singer’s heartless lover forcefully thwarting an alien invasion. At least, I do.

Runner up: OK Go, “Do What You Want.” Mainly because you can never get enough cowbell!

3. The theme from “Cubis 2”. I play this game on my iPod almost every day during my commute, and the burbling, loopy synthesized soundtrack is now constantly stuck in my head. Fortunately, it’s a pretty good one. Unfortunately, I also find myself obsessively creating cube combinations in my head, just like I used to do with Minesweeper and Tetris, and Mrs. Nator now does with Sudoku.

4. Stevie Wonder, “Power Flower.” A classic from my youth. Not a hit, this song comes from The Secret Life of Plants, a double album of what was supposed to be a soundtrack for a movie that I don’t think was ever released. The album didn’t do very well for a Wonder release, mainly because a lot of it was atmospheric. I still liked it, though, and this is one of my go-to songs while singing in the shower. It’s a sunny love ballad to nature sung in the voice of Pan, the Greek god thereof. Avoiding the obvious bleat of a goat, however, Wonder sings in an unexpected, smooth falsetto that could put Smokey Robinson to shame. The synthesized backgrounds are a little hokey and dated, but this song never fails to put me in a calm, contented mood. I’ve been listening to it on occasion lately just to relieve stress!

5. Stevie Wonder, “Love’s In Need of Love Today.” Another classic, this time from Songs In The Key of Life. The theme can make you sad, but the melody and singing lift you.

Runner up: the equally good remake by Joan Osborne. Joan is one of my favourite current female vocalists. Honestly, she just kicks ass.

6. Scissor Sisters, “Better Luck Next Time.” Cornball, bouncy, snarky, gay alterna-disco. What’s not to love?

7. Kate Bush, “Cloudbusting.” Kate Bush is one of the most original pop artists out there, and Hounds of Love is still my favourite album of hers. In fact, it’s one of the few albums that makes me actually miss the LP format, as the tracks are divided to tell different stories on either side.

In this song, Kate is telling a story that is both heartbreaking and encouraging. Who is this woman? Why was her father taken away by shadowy men? And yet her memories of her father are filled with joy:

Ev’ry time it rains
I hear you in my head
Like the sun’s coming out
Ooh, I just know that something good is gonna happen
I don’t know when
But just saying it could even make it happen…

Kate Bush is one of the only artists whose songs have actually made me cry, even after repeated listenings. I also made my mom cry by playing “This Woman’s Work,” for her one time. I don’t know why this particular song of Bush’s has been in my head lately – it could be any of a number of hers, instead. But it’s so bittersweetly evocative that once it’s there it’s hard to let go.

8. The Darkness, “Knockers.” HeeHeeHeeee… knockers! I just love The Darkness. They’re like the illicit love children of Queen and the band “Limozeen” from the Homestar Runner cartoons. They just crack my shit all up… and they can play!

I am still utterly heartbroken that the lead singer left before I could see them in concert. Sigh.

If money were no object, what would you be doing with your life?
Get a personal chef and trainer. Travel the world. Make a lot of donations, particularly for the boo-boo animals. Spend more time with animals and learn more about them. Give nice things to my family and friends. Buy a brownstone in Brooklyn and a vacation house. Learn to SCUBA dive & snowboard. Take writing and photography courses. Have my own home recording studio.

As most of you know, I did start a writing workshop recently, but had to stop due to the job madness. I still hope to take a SCUBA course this summer, though, if money and time allow.

Money is just that - an object, so why aren’t you doing it?
Um, as I said, I’m trying to do what I can when I can swing it. I did get to go to Costa Rica twice and Hawaii once, snorkel, hike volcanoes, and meet wild animals. I’m pursuing being a vet tech and SCUBA, and work on writing and photography when I can. I sponsor a child in Ecuador and give donations when I can. I try to give nice stuff for Xmas and birthdays, and it’s in our plans to buy at least an apartment someday. Uh, I sing in the shower…

So, really, I’m doing things I’d do with money, only on a smaller scale. Hey, just get off my back, people!

What’s better: horses or cows?
I try not to make value judgments on animals – just humans.

What do you think the secret to happiness is?
Great, now I’ve got that damn You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown song going through my head …

When was the last time you had a dream that you either remember well or did not want to awake from? Can you share a bit?
Um, I dreamt last night that my boss threw a party for my last week (fat chance) and on the stairs of the opera house made this big announcement that I could come back and see whatever show I wanted for free whenever I wanted. I was like “um… thanks.” I wasn’t sorry I woke up.

That’s actually not exemplary, because I tend to have very wild and symbolic dreams. I’ll tell you one of my favourites that I had when I was a teenager. I used to have reoccurring nightmares about tidal waves. I’m not sure why they started, but over time the waves grew smaller and smaller until the last few were puddles. I’d like to think this means I’ve conquered some fears they represented, or something.

Anyway, in this dream I was walking down a beach by a city. Suddenly people started running around hysterically screaming that it was the end of the world. I looked toward the sea and there was this infinitely huge wave rushing towards us. I could see animals, trees, cars and pieces of buildings roiling in it, like it had already been partly around the world and swept it away. I knew instantly that this was it – the water was going to engulf and destroy everything in a few seconds, and there was nothing I could do. I briefly wondered if I should pray, but then just as the first droplet hit me I suddenly thought aloud, “hey, didn’t it say somewhere in the Bible that God said he’d never destroy the Earth by flood again?”

No sooner had I said it than the water covered me. But then I heard a loud, deep, echoing voice say: “Hmm. I forgot about that. Maybe I’ll come back in a few eons sometime when I’ve thought of something else.” In an instant, with a gigantic zzzzooorcht like the emptying of a drain, the water was gone, and I had saved the world!

I woke up laughing. I told my father about it at breakfast, and I believe he worked it into a sermon that Sunday.

When you were a little kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I think I went through the typical phases of fireman, astronaut and superhero. Does fantasizing about riding into my nursery school playground in armor on a white horse and rescuing my teacher, who would then marry me, count?

Later on I wanted to be a magician, and after that a rock star. So practical, I was!

Complete this statement: Love is…
“… a many spleeeendooored thiiiiing!”

But seriously, love is awesome. I am so grateful for those I love: my friends, family, and chosen family of the amazing Mrs. Nator and our critters. I had always been a romantic and hoped for a “soul mate” (bleeaurgh!), but I’d given up by the time I met her. Now, my life is gloriously changed and better than ever. I love you, Mrs. Nator, my Boo!

Can you tell a good story?
There once was a man from Nantucket…

Can you remember your last daydream? What was it about?
Um… buying scrubs for my new job. Hee. I’m so obsessed with them… they’ve become my little symbolic badge of being an “animal care professional,” I think…

My usual daydreams, however? Involve snuggling with the cats or diving someplace with gorgeous coral and sealife, like Hawai’i.

Mmmm, Hawai’i…

If you were to thank someone today, who would you thank?
Mrs. Nator, because I should thank her every day, for everything she does and is. (Awww!)

And that’s it. I shall tag Helen, mainly because she’s given me some good suggestions for music in the past. But I have no illusions that she will actually do this meme. Enjoy!

An Ill Wind Blowing

Or, how we amuse ourselves on the cheap.

The Most Fabulous Couple In The World

This morning, Mrs. Nator went to an interview. An important administrator at a well know non-profit organization in NYC had heard such good things about her that she wanted to recruit her. Mrs. Nator likes the organization she's with and wants to stay there a while, although she knows eventually she will probably be looking elsewhere to become a Director of Development. Even though she told the recruiting administrator that she didn't want to leave her job, by the end of the interview, the woman was trying to figure out a way to create a position just for Mrs. Nator that she would like.

(Also, Mrs. Nator looks damn hot in a business suit. Not that I think that was the major factor.)

This evening, after I hurt my back, I called the Director of the vet clinic. I told her I had wanted to check in and touch base with her about what the head tech had told me, but I was hoping it could wait until next Saturday, because I injured my back and would have to go to the chiropractor, rather than making my volunteer shift. I emphasized that I really liked it there and wanted to keep volunteering, but since the head tech told me there probably wouldn't be a full-time position there soon, I'd need to look for something else within a couple weeks. I told her I'd be grateful if she had any suggestions for other holistic clinics that might be looking for someone like me.

By the end of the conversation, the Director was telling me there'd been some kind of miscommunication, and that they definitely want to figure out a way to fit me in the rotation and train me to work there full-time. We scheduled a meeting next week with me, her, the head tech and the head of the front desk, so they can work out a schedule for me.

And, I have to say that after stretching, icing, and ibuprofen, my back feels much better. This good news might just have helped a bit, too. What a difference a few hours makes!

Move over, Brangelina: everybody wants us! Aren't we fabulous?

Well, Well, Well

It looks like I'm going to be spared the awkwardness of reporting to my volunteer shift tomorrow at the clinic that's not hiring me, because I've pulled something in my lower back.

Hooray.

Well, this tends to happen during stressful times. Maybe I'll actually get some rest this weekend.

So, no Killer Guac recipe or filled-out meme here today - maybe tomorrow. I'm going home to lie on an ice pack.

Please think pain-free, gainfully-employed thoughts for me! Kiss, kiss!

Disappointment

I got some deflating news yesterday. The head tech of the vet clinic e-mailed me back, and, in a rather unclear letter, she stated that there were no full time openings there now. I say unclear, because she kept going back and forth saying there might be openings in the summer, or the new vet coming in might need new techs, but overall it just seemed confused and not terribly promising. I don’t think she was trying to yank me around; I just think she is not sure what’s going to happen over the next few months, herself.

Although I was upset to learn this, I don’t really blame the clinic. When the director indicated to me that they were desperate for staff three weeks ago, she probably couldn’t know that they’d have four other people applying in that time, three of whom already have extensive tech experience and the last of whom doesn’t have a current full-time job getting in the way of training. I just really wish this had worked out. I’m sure that for a few days I will be fluctuating between the rational evaluation that it’s nothing personal and this is just how things panned out, personal offense and feelings of rejection, and a more zen assessment that if I’d been meant to work there, it would have worked out, so I’m meant to work elsewhere.

I can also take the positive lesson that I was able to learn a few things while volunteering, and the most important of those was that I like working in a vet clinic and learning the practice. That’s key, because I actually have a direction, now, even if it isn’t my only possible one. I can take that knowledge and look for another vet tech training position, rather than wringing my hands asking what I should be doing with my life. If it doesn’t work out, I have a few weeks to land a new job, so I can send out résumés for web-related jobs, preferably animal-organization related, at the same time. And, even if I do get a vet tech position, it doesn’t have to be THE career of the rest of my life. It’s just what I want to do now, and that’s all good.

This may all sound simplistic, but it’s a real learning curve for me. I’ve always felt that I somehow “should” be incredibly responsible, know exactly what I want to do forever and excel at it. I’m not sure exactly where this came from, although the employment difficulties my parents had in the recession of the 70s, along with the emotional turmoil around their divorce, certainly helped me decide at a very tender age that I was going to have to be “adult” and focused. I actually read a quote by Karl Lagerfeld, of all people, that reminded me of my childhood views:

“I was too exotic for where I was. I hated the company of other children. I wanted to be a grownup person, to be taken seriously. I hated the idea of childhood; I thought it was a moment of endless stupidity.”

This is why I was never terribly socially popular. Not only did I think I was smarter than all the other kids, but I really felt that I was an adult trapped in a child’s body. Perhaps I didn’t always act this way, outwardly, but it was always in my mind. In fact, I remember distinctly thinking at all of age five or six that, now that my father and mother were getting divorced, I would have to pull myself together and take care of my mother. How fucked is that?

Trying to be a responsible adult all of my youth did a lot of good for me. I learned how to work early. I applied myself to school and learning. Although I did do some boneheaded teenage things and tried some drugs and so forth, I kept myself aware and safe while other kids I know were getting pregnant, mixed up with dangerous dates, into accidents, or addicted. I got into my first choice of college and worked to put myself through. I’ve kept a roof over my head, steady employment and some stable relationships. Life has been pretty good.

But now that I’m moving further into my adult years I’m missing some of the things I didn’t allow myself as a kid. I miss having a dream and believing I can do it. I miss feeling that I can try new things without worrying that I will fail, end up broke and with no one to help support me emotionally or financially. I miss living for today, rather than having to create a strict plan for the future and adhere to it in order to feel secure.

I haven’t been unemployed since my very early teen years – not once - and there were periods I held several jobs at a time. I rarely had the time or security to be spontaneous and do what I want to do. I was allowing myself so little leeway or free time that six years ago I became debilitated by daily panic attacks. Even now that I’ve changed somewhat and solved that problem, the free time I allow myself is usually spent in a state of collapse or vegetation, trying to gear myself up for my financial responsibilities, rather than in actual rest, creativity or contemplation. I’m boring and bored and stressed, and it’s time to make a change.

So, I will accept that I’m probably not going to get full-time employment at this vet clinic, but I will not let myself feel I’ve failed, somehow. I will take what I’ve learned – both the practical elements and the knowledge that I really am enjoying exploring this possible career – and use it to find another position that I like. I will let myself be upset and uncomfortable about it for a few days – that’s only human – but I’ll remind myself that I’m grateful I’ve had the opportunity to volunteer there, and I have at least six weeks where I’ll be paid my current rate to find another opportunity.

Also, my trusty financial advisor, Mrs. Nator, reassures me that even if I had to go on unemployment for a little while, it would not make me a horrible person who destroyed our lives and forced us to live in the gutter eating cardboard, until she left me for someone more responsible. It may even be okay for me to use some of the time off to rest, putter around and - gasp! - play a little. I also believe that she mentioned that it would help her stick with me if I went back to cleaning the kitty litter at home more often, but that might have just been my imagination. I will let myself imagine better things!

Most of all, I will let myself continue to be excited. Excited like a child would be when discovering something new she likes to do and learn about. Excited as I was when I got my own first pet to care for, or when I could help clients find a lost dog or figure out if their bird was sick when I was doing animal communication. I’m excited to learn about caring for animals. I’m sad that the first place I thought I could practice in won’t work out, but here’s hoping I can convey that excitement to other vet practice directors, and get hired elsewhere.

Change is scary for me. Disappointment has frequently become debilitating. This time, I want to get through these things, and turn them around.

The Final Countdown

Not a lot of time to post... less than two weeks until I'm out of my current job!

I've been working hard, training my replacement, who is very nice, and being taken out to lunch and dinner frequently by co-workers. I'm also working full shifts at the clinic on Saturdays and not sleeping much, so I'm beginning to get a little zombie-esque...

That said, I'm positively gleeful. I didn't realize how good it would feel to finally know I'm leaving, even if the future is uncertain. Plus, it turns out I'm getting a month of severance plus two weeks' vacation pay. w00t!

No word yet on the clinic job, but if I don't hear back from the head tech by noon tomorrow, I'll give her a call. Wish me luck...