BEDA 7: Restlessness

August 7, 2008

Three years ago I had just returned from my first Harry Potter conference in Toronto.
Two years ago I had just met my husband "in real life" (after being phone friends for a few months) for the first time.
One year ago I was on my way to Ohio to prepare for our wedding.
     Thinking about all the big life events that tend to happen around this time of year makes me feel guilty. Nothing SUPER BIG AND IMPORTANT happened this week other than a few mental breakdowns because I don't feel busy enough. My freelance work has dwindled to almost nothing, we only rehearse three times a week right now, and I can't afford to take as many extra dance classes as I'd like. I applied to do a work-study at one of the studios I attend, but haven't heard back from them. I purposefully decided not to do an unpaid internship this summer because I wanted to spend time taking class and making money, and now that neither is happening as much as I wish, it feels like I'm wasting time. I like being busy. Not being busy makes me depressed and antsy and not very much fun to be around. Sure, I'm getting a lot of writing and reading done, and I'm (finally) keeping up with housework and such, but I'm bored. If I don't end up doing work-study at the studio in the Fall, I'm hoping to apply for some internships at children's publishing houses and a dance magazine. Children's publishing and dance journalism are two of the only careers I see myself pursuing outside the performing, writing, and motherhood fields. We'll see what happens.
    It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon and I'm itching to go outside and walk off the weird muscle strain I contracted at some point during class and rehearsal this morning. I hope you all have lovely weekends. To those of you Blogging Every Day in August, congratulations on finishing the first week!
  

BEDA 6: Supreme Master of the Flies

   With the onset of mid-August humidity comes the annual invasion of flies into my home. Last year, my kitchen was overrun by fruit flies and I did everything in my power to destroy them. I like to think I won, but I think nature helped me out a little. My fruit-loving enemies disappeared the moment it dropped below 75 degrees and the crisp breeze of Autumn nipped at the trees. Until last week, we'd barely seen a fly all summer, even though we keep our windows open around the clock in an attempt to circulate some air in our stifling studio apartment. When the first couple flying pests showed up, I just sighed, swatted them away and said, "Well I'd rather have flies than cockroaches." That's still true, but one week and dozens of flies later, I'm getting frustrated.
    I keep screens on the windows. More flies.
    I keep a tight kid on the trashcan. More flies.
    I take the trash out daily. More flies.
    I never leave food out. More flies.
    I clean the kitchen several times a day. MORE. FLIES.
 
    I'm a bit of a control freak. I like to have a complete handle over my life at al times. It's silly, but the flies have grown to symbolize all the ways I fail at keeping in control. Their presence torments me in a Edgar-Allen-Poe-lite kind of way. Yesterday I spent half the afternoon trying to kill flies with my spray bottle full of homemade cleaning solution (vinegar, water, dish soap) while Graham tried to swat them with a rolled up newspaper. The fly-frustration triggered an array of crazed, slightly depressed thoughts the whole evening at work, like: "I can't keep my apartment fly free. I didn't do all the laundry. I didn't get that article finished" etc. and triggered a minor panic attack right there in the middle of my book event. I rarely have panic attacks anymore--it came out of nowhere. And I blame the flies.
   I think they're trying to tell me something: I am not always in control. And I don't have to be.
       Sometimes flies invade apartments because it's August and the windows were open and there aren't any spiders around to eat them.
     Sometimes, the numbers on the scale will fluctuate up or down because bodies--like the rest of the parts that make up the self--are not stagnant.
     Sometimes I will not dance my best in class. This isn't because I'm awful and lazy and fat as I often tell myself. It's because I'm human and there's always room for improvement.

      To get me out of my fly-induced funk, I hung up a bunch of fly paper and went for a swim at the neighborhood rec center. Even though I only spent about thirty minutes doing laps, it felt like a kind of mini-vacation from life. In the water no one can reach you by cell phone or email. No one is working out on the elliptical next to you, looking over and trying to beat your speed. There are no flies to kill. It's safe and completely solitary.
     I hope I don't sound like a complete misanthrope. I like people, really. I just need time away. Also, anyone have any tips for ridding my life of flies (literal ones) besides this ghastly hanging sticky paper?

BEDA 5: Places Where I Have Sold Books: A List.

     For the past three years, I've worked for an independent special events bookseller in New York City. My job entails picking up suitcases or carts full of books at the company's midtown office, finding creative ways to carry the literary baggage up and down subway stairs without looking like the awkward weakling I am, and selling the books at the various special events where authors, publishers, and publicists require our retail services. I love this job. I've learned so much about the publishing and book sales world, and had the pleasure of meeting a lot of wonderful writers in the process. Even when the events and books are unbearable dull, the Ravenclaw in me still enjoys listening to author lectures and learning a little bit about a new topic. I've worked my fair share of annoying events, of course, but usually they're annoying in a funny, my-life-is-ridiculous kind of way, so it's all worth it. Tonight, I worked a lovely launch party at a restaurant near Times Square and, as often happens at book parties, found myself bored and antsy during the mid-party lull in book sales. One of the party attendees began asking me questions about the job including, "where else do you sell books, usually?" I gave her the usual canned answer ("Anywhere in the New York City area that's not a bookstore!") but to entertain myself while waiting for more potential customers to approach my table, I compiled a mental list of all the kinds of places where I've sold books:

libraries
a charity bookstore (breaking the usual "no bookstore" rule)
colleges and universities
a hospital
a bank building
restaurants/cafes
bars/lounges
hotels
the United Nations Building
the Javits Center (for ComicCon!)
the Martha Stewart studio (or whatever they call it)
assorted apartments
parks
synagogues
churches
misc. places of worship
a gym/spa
assorted office buildings
a dance studio
assorted theaters
elementary schools
high schools
YMCAs
a few Embassies
private Ivy alumni clubs
Sotheby's
art galleries
community centers
a Marxist performance-art space

I don't think this is an exhaustive list, but I just remembered that nobody really finds this interesting or noteworthy and I really want to go to sleep right now. I made some changes to the blog design. Let me know how you like it! (Still working on removing a few pesky widgets and stuff.)

BEDA 4: Racism, Cultural Context, and the Chronicles of Narnia

     Sunday evening I found myself discussing (among other things, I swear) children's lit and favorite kid's books, over dinner with some friends. Toward the end of the evening, someone mentioned that she used to love The Chronicles of Narnia as a kid, but now can't stand to read them. When I asked her why, she responded that she finds the books full of racist and sexist undertones. I'd heard criticisms of Lewis' supposed negative portrayal of female sexuality before, but these accusations of racism were new to me. Graham, who was with us, feels about the Narnia books the way I feel about Harry Potter, and rushed to defend his beloved author. We ended up avoiding any serious debate about whether or not Lewis laced his novels with racist or sexist sentiments (a good thing, as by his own admission, Graham tends to get more than a little defensive of the series) but I couldn't stop thinking about it the whole subway ride home.
     Good little English major that I am, I've spent a lot of time considering "the other" in literature and whether and how much an author's social context informs their characterizations of racial, religious, or cultural minorities. I think, generally, post-colonial literary theory can be a helpful in understanding and dissecting the relationships between groups of people, but I'm not to crazy about the way in which this kind of post-colonial thinking makes it almost impossible to depict and discuss battles between good and evil.
     Further research revealed that Phillip Pullman--the same author who criticized Narnia's overtly Christian messages--is the most vocal force behind these accusations of racism and sexism. Pullman and others suggest that the Calormenes, who (if I remember correctly without the book in front of me) Lewis describes as "moorish" and Turban-wearing, are projections of racist, Anti-Arab, anti-Muslim stereotypes. I never found any interviews in which Pullman or his supporters cited specific examples from the text to support their argument. I really wish I hadn't left my copy of The Last Battle at my parents' house, because I'd like to reread it and see for myself.
      Still, can we fault Lewis for choosing Middle Eastern figures to represent the villains in his books? Lewis was not only writing for a Western and largely Christian audience, but during a time of great upheaval in that region of the world and many Englishmen were killed. (The English have certainly done their fair share of killing over the years, don't get me wrong.) It would have been natural for Lewis to choose to depict his villains as a group of people his readers already recognized as dangerous. A few years earlier, he might as easily have depicted them as German. Would Pullman still be crying "racism"? Also, if an author believes a set of ideas or beliefs to be wrong, immoral, or even evil, can he separate those ideas from the people who subscribe to them? What if Lewis was anti-Muslim and wanted to communicate his belief in the superiority of Christianity? Does that make him a bigot? I believe not. Bigotry is malicious prejudice. Believing that something morally or intellectually wrong is not.
    I also couldn't help but think about how several of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales feature Muslim characters and nations as villains. Again, given the post-Crusades landscape in which Chaucer wrote, this is hardly surprising. Some critics shake a finger at Chaucer for this, but few suggest his Tales should no longer be read because it contains some anti-Islam and anti-semitic sentiments. The literary merits outweigh any lingering prejudices in the text. The Chronicles of Narnia follows in the English tradition established by Chaucer and it should be remembered for its contributions to children's fantasy literature. No matter which way you slice it, Narnia is not about white supremacy or race relations. It is about the triumph of good over evil. If we are unable to discuss the battle of good versus evil without someone crying "racism!", I fear real bigotry will never be defeated, and real battles never won.

   These are just my highly disorganized, preliminary, rambling thoughts. I'm still thinking a lot about bigotry and cultural prejudices in literature, and I don't think I've really arrived at a conclusion,. I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Also, I hope I don't seem like I'm giving racism a pass, or am insensitive to the dehumanization of the other. Far from it. Ugh, I'm so afraid to post this for some reason, but it's almost midnight and I'm too tired to revise anything. :-)

BEDA 3: Recipe Tuesday

      That well-planned literary discussion I promised? On hold for another day. I got about halfway through the post and my brain started hurting, and I couldn't remember what I questions I was trying to ask or what points I wanted to make. I think Wednesdays are a better day for possibly controversial blog topics anyway, so today we will discuss ZUCCHINI BREAD. I know some people find the synthesis of vegetables and sweet breads a little controversial, but they usually change their minds when they taste it. 

     When I got married, my mom gave me a pretty little recipe box full of family recipes, old and new. I spent my late teens "veganizing" a ton of my grandmother's breads and cookies, but for some reason I never made it to her zucchini bread. It's one of my favorite quick breads and reminds me of vacations at my grandparents house in the hills of Northern California filled with card games, hikes, and rolling my eyes at grandpa's dorky-but-awesome cowboy songs. I helped my mom make zucchini bread when I visited home last summer before the wedding, but had never tried mastering it by myself until last weekend. It felt like earning my family bakings tradition wings or something. Zucchini's also in season right now so buy a bunch from your local farmer's market and get baking.

Here's the recipe from Great Grandma Zamzow's kitchen in both it's original and dairy-free forms:

Zamzow Zucchini Nut Bread Gone Vegan 

2 cups grated zucchini 

3/4 cup soy or almond milk

1 tsp. cornstarch

1/2 cup oil

1/3 cup applesauce (or leave out and use one full cup of oil!) 

2 cups sugar

1 tsp. vanilla

3 cups white all-purpose or whole wheat pastry flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

3 tsp.  cinnamon

1/2 cup walnuts (it's also fine without them, for all you nut haters)

Preheat oven to 325 F. Lightly grease one large loaf pan.

     

     In a large mixing bowl, whisk the soy/almond milk with cornstarch. Add zucchini, oil, applesauce, sugar, and vanilla and mix until well combined. Sift together dry ingredients and slowly incorporate into the zucchini/oil/soymilk mixture until just combined. Do not over mix or the batter may be gummy! Fold in walnuts, and spread the batter evenly in your loaf pan. Bake about one hour, or until the loaf springs back when pressed. 

Zamzow Zucchini Nut Bread (Original)

2 cups grated zucchini 

3 eggs

1 cup vegetable oil

2 cups sugar

1 tsp. vanilla

3 cups all-purpose or whole wheat flour 

1 tsp. baking soda

1/4 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

3 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 cup walnuts 

     Preheat the oven to 325 F. Lightly grease a large loaf pan. 

     Beat the eggs in a large mixing bowl until foamy. Add the oil, sugar, zucchini, and vanilla. Mix lightly until all ingredients are combined. Sift together the dry ingredients and add to egg mixture mixing until just combined. Fold in the walnuts. Pour dough into loaf pan and spread evenly. Bake about one hour, or until loaf springs back when pressed. 

If you make this (either version), let me know how it turns out! Also, are "recipe Tuesdays" a good thing to keep up on the blog? 

BEDA 2: Summertime Nostalgia

     At the moment, I'm typing at a mostly-empty tea house in Greenwich Village, the kind of place stuffed with tables and upholstered chairs designed for hours of loitering. In spite of the obnoxious combination of discordant Indie music and the Greatest Disco Hits of 1976 blaring from the speakers, it's a nice writing environment for an August morning. I'm meeting a client here in a few minutes to get started on a new research assistant/proofreading gig, but this moment has all the makings of the beginnings of a perfect New York summer day: an open word document, an iced tea, and the sounds of kids playing in the park across the street.
     This is only my second full summer in the city, and the longest (I think?) I've gone without visiting my family in Texas. As much as I love New York, even in the summer when sweat seems to pour from the walls and steam rises from the pavement, this season makes me nostalgic for childhood summers in San Antonio. Things I miss most:

1. Central Air Conditioning. Even though south Texas is significantly hotter than New York most of the year (and nearly as humid), most buildings come equipped with glorious central air. So, like, aside from my summers working at SeaWorld, I mostly just experienced severe heat when walking from one air conditioned place to another. Here in the city, many old buildings have poor air conditioning systems if any, and right now we cannot afford a window cooling unit for our apartment. So ninety percent of the time, I look like a need a shower.

2. The availability of well-made iced tea. In the South, iced tea comes out of the faucets, and every church is required to have it's very own "sweet tay" fountain emitting perpetual streams of tea-flavored sugar water. Even though I never, ever, ever, ever, EVER drink sweetened tea in any form, I miss the wide availability of strong iced tea down south. People look at me funny down there when I ask for the unsweetened version. Even in specialty cafes (like this one), the iced tea tastes watery and yankee-ish. Iced coffee appears to be the beverage of choice in the city, and I love it, but you can't sip iced coffee while relaxing in your rocker on the porch and throwing newspapers at those pesky kids who come too close to your lawn. You need tea.

3. Playing in the sprinkler or hose in your backyard. Water hose + backyard=hours of endless fun. In Washington Heights, I see a lot of kids playing in the water from open fire hydrants, which I guess is the slightly-less-legal* urban version of running around in the garden sprinkler in your "Little Mermaid" bathing suit (or underwear, if you can't be bothered).

     I can't wait to visit the land of Bibles, boots, and big hair at the end of the month, but in the mean time I'll just enjoy all the great summer time activities New York City has to offer, and the fact that my husband has a job again, and that I kind of have versions of my dream jobs.
    Look for a more literary discussion-oriented post tomorrow. It might involve lions,witches, princes named "Caspian", and/or silver chairs, so get your nerd hats on. (Do we ever take them off?)

*According to poorly cited Internet sources, you may legally use fire hydrant water for recreational purposes by retrieving a sprinkler nozzle cap thing from your local police precinct.

BEDA 1: The Rules

     While I waited for two shots of pure, hair-raising, caffeinated bliss to shoot forth from my rumbling espresso machine this afternoon after church, I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to take care of some urgent business today. Something of cosmic importance that would forever shape the history of life, the universe, and everything. Then, as a dramatically-timed kettle whistled on my stove top, I remembered--today is August 1st. August 1st is a day in August. I promised myself and the blogging bunnies that I would Blog Every Day in August (or BEDA). BEDA is upon us!
    So, as I sip my espresso-diluted-in-hot-water, I begin the task of writing something (ideally) halfway interesting or entertaining daily, and posting it in my little corner of the internet, daily for an entire month. I usually shy away from these kinds of challenges, as I generally fail at accomplishing them. For example, many of my friends participate and "win" National Novel Writing Month every November. "Winners" write manuscripts of 50,000 words or more during the month of November. I tried NaNoWriMo way back in 2008 right after I finished a draft of a "novel" I call the Story That Shall Not Be Named. Sick of rewriting and revising the Story That Shall Not Be Named, I wanted to work on something fresh and figured NaNoWriMo would adequately motivate me to start a new project. Not so much. Turns out a love of the delete key, and on-the-go revisions are not conducive to banging out 50,000 words in 30 days.
     But BEDA will be different.
     BEDA requires no plot outlining or character development or unreachable word count goals. Rule-lover that I am, I have devised some rules to follow for successful BEDA-ing.

Five Habits of Highly Somewhat Successful BEDA-ers:


1. Posts must be no shorter than 200 words.
2. Posts may include material not originally written for a blog, such as excerpts from stories-in-progress or essays.
3. No posting about not having anything to write.
4. Sunday posts may suck since Sunday is a day of rest.
5. Sunday posts should include a list of books read during preceding week.

Books read last week:
Going Bovine by Libba Bray
Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen (third reread)
The Witches by Roald Dahl (millionth reread . . .a childhood favorite)

See you tomorrow, blog readers!