No Chaser

A salad better than its name

Clonk got a new digi-camera, which is very nice and works well, unlike the other, which he dropped and works, say, every fourth time you push the button and you only realize it didn’t take any pictures after you've eaten your delicious meal and plugged the camera into the computer and the file contains nothing but the same old picture of graffiti that's been in the camera forever and your meal is safely in your stomach and past all hope of visual documentation.

So, new camera = more food blogging. Today, another salad.

One of the things I discovered as I became more interested in making salads was that I really like a nice cool salad with something a bit hot on top of it. In the case of this salad, the cool temperature is matched by cool flavors and topped with something both hot to the touch and spicy to the tongue.

I made it Mexican-ish, but I can envision many variations in terms of flavorings. I've not bothered to come up with a clever name. I had a friend once who insisted on naming all my dishes; it was part of his and Clonk's plan to get me to open a veggie restaurant. Didn't work, but the names were fun. If you have a name for this, let me know, and I'll use it for the hard version of my personal cookbook as well as update the blog with the new name.



Cool Rasputin Rice Salad

2 c cooked brown rice
½ c cooked corn
½ red onion diced
½ red pepper diced
1 zucchini grated
2 cloves garlic minced
10-20 squirts of hot pepper sauce
¼ c lime-cilantro dressing
2-3 T fresh cilantro

Mix all ingredients, then chill the salad for about 30 minutes. For the dressing, you can make your own or use a store-bought version. Basically, it's white wine or apple cider vinegar, lime juice, olive oil cilantro, garlic, a touch of honey, cumin. Some recipes call for sour cream.

This makes enough for four servings. We ate it last night topped with Smart Strips Steak and pumpkin seeds sautéed in garlic, olive oil, chili powder and a dash of ground chipotle. I think it would be very good with fake chicken, marinated tempeh, etc. If you eat fish, grilled shrimp would be good too.

Today, we had the salad on its own (as in the picture) on the side with a bowl of leftover chili. It was not as exciting this way, but still good.

posted by: NoChaser at March 30, 2006 15:34 | link | comments (2) |

Happy Birthday L'il Bastard

Today is L'il Bastard's 7th birthday, and I have some fun things planned for him. He already had a morning scratch and game of fetch. He'll be having a little soymilk with his cookie this morning for breakfast, followed by a nice long walk. I saved a load of laundry to do so he could ride in the basket and sit in the warm clothes while I fold. There'll be more fetch and a little doggie massage later in the day. He'll probably get another walk as well if the weather is decent. Mr. Bubble will of course also benefit from all the goodies today.

I'll give him some orange (his favorite thing to eat) for a snack, and I'll add a little something special to his dinner. The only thing I've not yet decided is what sort of treat he will get after dinner. Perhaps a new stuffed animal to replace his favorite toy, literally on its last leg. Maybe I'll make him a little dog-friendly cupcake with peanut butter frosting. I could rent _Best in Show_ or one of the _Legally Blond_ films, but he's not really into movies. Probably a new stuffed toy is the best bet.

Right now he's curled up on a bed in my office wondering what's next on the birthday agenda. I think he's hoping I'll crawl back into bed so he can cozy up in there and go back to sleep. I can probably accomodate that wish; it's his birthday after all.

posted by: NoChaser at March 25, 2006 05:26 | link | comments (3) |

What I learned today at the Y

Does going to the gym hurt your goth cred? It doesn't have to if you follow a few simple rules:

1) Wear very short grey or black shorts that show the iron cross tattoo on your upper thigh.

2) Wear a Dead Can Dance t-shirt. Bauhaus or Ministry would work as well. Anything newer would probably not be worn enough to pass muster as goth gym wear.

3) Wear black on black Converse sneakers and spend most of your time on the elliptical trainer so as not to kill your feet.

4) Do not wear makeup. Only someone uncomfortable with their goth-ness would wear makeup to the gym.

5) Turn the gym TV to a gruesome crime show.

6) Wear your headphones and listen to very loud industrial (preferably German) music on your iPod.

7) Do only aerobic, thinning exercises.

8) Do absolutely nothing that might put on body mass.

9) Act as though your fellow gym-goers are aliens. They are actually.

10) When you leave, pull on a pair of black leggings and a black vinyl jacket, and you're goth to go.

P.S. -- I (black) heart goths.

posted by: NoChaser at March 22, 2006 15:53 | link | comments (1) |

Pas de Trois

You know how in a narrative dance involving two men and one woman, or at least two chasers and one chasee, the costumes give the ending away? For example, last night we saw a pas de trois in which a woman in blue, green, and yellow was dancing with two men -- one in green, the other in red. Well, it was obvious she'd rebuff the guy in red and end up with Mr. Green. She couldn't possibly end up with Red as their costumes clashed painfully.

Does life imitate art in this sense?

When I met Clonk, he wore earthtones and I wore primarily black. How did we ever end up together? Did we click on the day I wore army green pants? That afternoon in the park when we realized we were in love . . . were our outfits compatible?

It's possible since he also at the time wore navy blue t-shirts and I wore denim; I can imagine me in jeans and a white t-shirt, and him in khakis and a navy t-shirt. Could we possibly have recognized our feelings for one another if this were not the case?

I can say that once we got together, he started wearing fewer earthtones. It took a while for him to advance to black.

Clonk eventually convinced me to wear fleece, which I opposed adamantly until he started dressing me in his own ugly green fleece pants when I complained of being cold at our Northeastern beach bungalow. When I finally caved to the superior warmth, I purchased black fleece of course. But that is a whole 'nother story.

posted by: NoChaser at March 16, 2006 07:12 | link | comments |

This morning, we saw a small hawk (probably a Cooper's) building a nest high in a leafless tree two blocks from our house. It flew back forth between its nest and another tree across the street from which it was selecting and plucking branches for its nest. I love nesting season.

In other news, all my creative energy is currently directed at the fiction project, which means far less blogging than usual. I will probably not blog much for the next couple of months as I have a tentative May deadline for the project, but it is going extremely well. Taking a month or so to really carefully map it all out was the best thing I could have done. Now, when I'm writing, I'm focusing almost entirely on style and other small details rather than worrying about plot, character development, etc. since that is already all outlined for each chapter. There's built-in flexibility, but starting with a detailed and careful structure is, for me, the way to go.

posted by: NoChaser at March 15, 2006 06:09 | link | comments (1) |

Why working in the library is cool, pt. 1

I got to use a dumbwaiter today. This one is not pulley-operated, but really just a tiny elevator for books. So awesome, and I totally want to put my chihuahua in it for a ride. Am I not the luckiest person ever?

posted by: NoChaser at March 07, 2006 14:38 | link | comments (4) |

Visited States Meme

I seem to have a distinct block of forbidden territory . . .
create your own visited states map.

posted by: NoChaser at March 04, 2006 14:37 | link | comments (8) |

Losses and Gains

After dinner Thursday night, I was thinking about the Tax Code (which believe it or not I rather enjoy) and the way one accounts for losses and gains. Clonk, unaware of my IRS reverie, was muttering about The Department when my cell phone rang.

Normally, I do not answer this phone because either I don't hear it or don't understand that the weird buzzing I hear is my cell phone. The other day, my phone was on "manner mode" deep in my backpack when my brother phoned. The whole time it was buzzing, I was certain the strange sound I was hearing was the tornado warning drone. I even turned on the radio to see what was going on. When it buzzed again to let me know I had a voicemail message, I happened to be standing closer to my backpack and realized the tornado warning was coming from inside.

I'm being totally honest here. I am that dumb.

If I do happen to realize my phone is ringing or buzzing, I never answer if I don't recognize the number; I figure, the caller can leave a message, and if I know them, I'll call back. All this understandably irritates Clonk. So, when my phone rang the other night -- or rather, vibrated loudly against whatever it was sitting on -- Clonk grabbed, opened, and handed it to me. The display showed an unfamiliar area code, and a number ending in 3000, so I decided not to answer it. Clonk for some reason was insistent I do the opposite.

"It might be a job," he joked.

"Oh, right!" I said.

"Just answer it."

I pressed the side button that sends the call to voicemail, and then accidentally hit # as I went to close the phone; I then saw on the display that I had inadvertently picked up. I briefly considered hanging up, but instead raised the phone to my ear and asked suspiciously, "Hello?"

The caller said, "I'm so-and-so, calling to ask if you are still interested in the job at Sunny City University, and if so, would you be able to participate in a phone interview tomorrow at noon?"

I felt like Leonard Nimoy had raised his eyebrows and administered the neck pinch. Clonk could hear the entire conversation and was nodding at me across the table, a signal meaning I should quit "um"-ing and say yes. So, I said yes.

When I hung up, I said, "Why the fuck did I just say yes? I don't want this."

Clonk enthused desperately, "But, we can get out of here!" What he was thinking was: Save us NC, from another year in Cornlandia; this may be our only hope of escape!

I said, "I need to be alone for a few minutes."

Then, I laid on the floor of my office and sobbed. I spent the last year exorcising the academy, and this happens now? Right when I'm incredibly happy with my new direction. WTF? And, for that matter, why was I sobbing?

Well, you see, Sunny City University is the kind of school I have always wanted to teach at, not surprisingly, the kind of school where I did my undergraduate work. An urban, commuter school with working students and returning students, it also boasts an ethnically and economically diverse student body. My desire to teach in this kind of environment to this population (people like me) was the reason I decided to get a PhD in the first place. Their call offered me the chance to close the circle.

But now, years after my shiny undergraduate vision of the academy, I understand its workaday realities. And, as I lay there looking up at my bookcases, I realized I was sobbing for the loss of my beautiful vision of a profession dedicated, among other things, to social justice, to equality, to empowerment. I was sobbing because I know the profession functions primarily through various and increasingly complex modes of hierarchy and exclusion and cannot possibly promote values it refuses to embrace despite reams of promotional copy to the contrary. I was sobbing because I have had to admit that I cannot transform this leviathan.

So, I called back. I called back, and I said, "no thank you."

Afterward, I felt emotionally spent but happy. I had to suppress huge, important parts of myself to succeed in the university, and I've been very much enjoying having those pieces of me back in my company these days. As sad as I am sometimes about leaving the profession and my innocent hopes for it behind me, in my accounting, the gains far outweigh the loss.

posted by: NoChaser at March 04, 2006 07:11 | link | comments (3) |