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March 30, 2006

The Ultimate Gateway Drug

According to Chinese medicine, you shouldn't drink icy cold things pretty much ever, but they're especially bad for you in winter. I am enough of a Westerner that I quite enjoy a nice cola with lots of ice and a wedge of lime, and one reason I am anxious for it to warm up is because I am tired of not indulging in said beverage. I am a big ol' cheapskate and I can't stand paying a lot of money to burn up fossil fuels to heat my house to 70 F, so I keep the thermostat at around 65 F during the day and just wear lots of clothes. This saves on heating bills but means the only way I can drink an icy cola without darn near freezing to death is if I drink it in while I'm lying in a very warm bath, which I do from time to time, but only if I take a bath early in the day, because I don't like drinking caffeine after, say, 5 p.m.

Actually I try to avoid caffeine as much as possible. I only drink decaffeinated tea and coffee. Many people find this odd but I just don't like stimulants. Revving up is not what my personality generally needs.

My cola is preference is Coke, the real thing, but I find Diet Coke with Splenda a thoroughly acceptable substitute for the real thing. I remember when Diet Coke was invented: it was 1982 and I was a sophomore in college, and I thought dc was the best thing EVER! I drank a lot of it, for years, and then I quit for even more years because I didn't want to drink artificial sweeteners anymore. I do that with beverages; I give them up for a while. I didn't drink hot Dr Pepper at all in the 1980s, and then I started again around 1993; I didn't drink tea for a while but now I drink it a lot; currently, I'm trying to drink less coffee. That would be easier to do if I could drink Diet Coke instead, which I started drinking again last fall after I heard about this Splenda stuff, which supposedly isn't so bad for you and tastes more like real sugar. I don't know about how healthy it is, but I do know it tastes better, and that somehow helps me believe it's not as deadly as that aspartame stuff.

Wayne disapproves of my fondness for Diet Coke. He claims that Diet Coke is the ultimate gateway drug, because it has so few consequences: you can drink it and feel almost virtuous because it won't make you fat or give you cancer as quickly as cigarettes, but make no mistake, he argues, it's a drug! And drinking Diet Coke will lead to much more severe substance abuse, just you wait! I point out that I started drinking Diet Coke almost 23 years ago and still have yet to develop a more serious substance abuse problem (unless you count chocolate, and I don't); alcohol is the only recreational drug I ever use, and I try not to indulge in that too often. He claims I'm just fooling myself and that someday it will wreak havoc on my life; look what it did to one of its most noted spokeswomen, Whitney Houston! And I think of the last photo I saw of poor Whitney and I sort of don't want to argue any more.

So if you ever hear that I've ended up in rehab after beating the shit out of my celebrity husband, you'll know that Diet Coke is the substance at the root of all my problems. But it won't happen for a few more weeks because it's still too cold to indulge in it regularly.

Posted by Holly at 8:56 AM | Comments (10)

March 29, 2006

Broken Window Coda

Some of you may remember my account of finding a storm window broken back in January, and of the fact that after the storm window was replaced, smudges remained on the window it had protected, in a way that I couldn't clean it--plus there were all these shards of glass trapped on the sill between the inside and storm window.

The good news now is that a friend has been visiting me, and yesterday he helped me take down the new storm window and do some final cleanup. We managed to get all the bits of glass vacuumed up, but the bad news is that the marks I thought were smudges on the inside window are actually scratches--when the storm window broke, its glass struck the inside window hard enough to gouge some fairly deep scratches.

The window faces southeast, and the scratches on it are right at my eye level and especially visible on a bright clear morning like today. They ain't going away unless I have the entire window replaced.

Posted by Holly at 8:41 AM | Comments (2)

March 28, 2006

Of Friends and Furniture

A friend recently mentioned to me that certain problems he's facing in a relationship are due in part to the fact that he too quickly arrives at the point "where you see the other person as a comfortable old piece of furniture you can take for granted and don't really have to think about."

I contemplated this notion a moment before speaking. "I don't think I've ever gotten to that point," I said.

The friend settled back in his chair, which was not particularly comfortable. "Really," he said archly. It was a skeptical challenge more than a curious request for information.

"Really," I said. "It has to do both with how I see people and how I see furniture. It's not at all that I'm a nicer person than you or anything, because the point I arrive at is the point where I think, ‘You are an ugly piece of junk and I can't bear looking at you any more and my life would be so much better if I could get you out of my house and replace you with something that isn't hideous and uncomfortable,' which is how I feel about the couch I have right now. I hate my couch. I just hate it. It was old to begin with and now my cat has shredded most of the upholstery. I really want to throw it out and replace it."

I have thought about the conversation in the days since it happened. It has helped me understand something about what I want from the people I rely on and the objects I recline on, and how I need to respect both.

It's hard not to take furniture for granted, in that you expect to come home and find it where you left it. But I have furniture I really like--my bed, for instance--and I still feel pleasure contemplating it. First of all, the frame has sentimental value: a double, it was the frame my parents bought when they first got married, and it was bequeathed to me in 1980 when I was a senior in high school. Secondly, the mattress is relatively new and very comfortable. Third, I maintain my bed in a way that gives me pleasure: I make it every morning shortly after I get out of it so it looks nice all day, and I like the bedspread (dark green chenille) and pillows with which I adorn it. Finally, I like sleep, so it's rewarding to head to my bed at the end of the day. So I don't think it can be said that I fail to treat my bed with the respect it is due, which is what really happens when you take something for granted.

Maybe part of what makes it easy for me not to take my dearest friends for granted is that I expect them to be worthy of my respect in that they should not be evil people who lie, cheat, steal and talk crap about stuff they don't understand; instead, I try to choose friends who are thoughtful decent people with interesting ideas about the world and the ability to express and explore those ideas. I don't like to hang out with people who are erratic or unreliable, because such people are annoying and hard to deal with, but I do like people who surprise and challenge me intellectually. I don't need a lot of variety in terms of activities or venues for those activities if what a friend has to say over dinner or after a movie amuses, informs or stimulates me. But if someone's an asshole with nothing interesting to say, I can't maintain respect for him/her. I find it hard to integrate people or things I don't respect into the landscape of my life; instead of finding them comfortable and familiar, I find them bothersome at best and loathsome at worst, and I want them to go away.

My couch is a loathsome object with nothing to say to me that I care to hear. Right now, none of my friends remind me of that couch, and that makes me happy.

Posted by Holly at 11:18 AM | Comments (4)

March 27, 2006

What I Drink for Breakfast

My family drank boiling hot Dr Pepper every morning for breakfast the whole time I was growing up, and as a matter of fact, we drink it still.

The rest of this post has been deleted, because I revised it substantially and included it in an essay.

Posted by Holly at 10:10 AM | Comments (12)

March 24, 2006

The White Trash Goddess

I just checked Saviour Onassis's blog While You're On Your Knees and saw that he had posted something about his alter-ego, Helena Bubbles.

Helena was a truly fascinating creature and although I understand the reasons why she had to retire, I was still sorry to see her go. One of the few things that gave me any comfort in the matter was that I got some of her old clothes.

As the page featuring SO's story of Helena loaded, there was a picture of Helena, and then when the page was completely loaded, the photo was gone--kind of like Helena herself. I hope you get to see her.

Posted by Holly at 9:20 AM | Comments (0)

March 23, 2006

A Body That Expands

Another Thursday, another mild hangover. Yesterday was a friend's birthday and we went out to celebrate. I only had two beers but they were Belgian beers brewed by Trappist Monks, and we all know how completely loaded those guys like to get. Plus, as sometimes (but not always) happens when I drink, I then couldn't sleep, and took some sort of pill to help the process. All of which made for a crappy next morning.

The good thing about drinking during the week is that it frees my weekend up for extended sobriety. The bad thing about drinking during the week is, well, all the stuff I mentioned above, plus the fact that it means I don't really feel like blogging. And I even have a couple of things I want to write about! I may just have to write the entry today and post it tomorrow. Anyway, I'm going to do the cheater thing and post another poem. This one was written years ago, about my little sister.

My sister sings Puccini in the shower.
A fever ripped the muscle of her heart
when she was five but now she is almost
twenty-one and lovely. She leaves music
open like an invitation at the
piano in her bedroom; she can't manage
money and loves to examine the map
of the world hanging on my bedroom wall.
She studies music: she sings soprano.
She told me, "I play the saxophone
but my main instrument is my body."
Perhaps you already knew that. I had thought
only of vocal cords, not a whole body
that expands with air and vibrates.
The first time you heard someone produce
a series of expansive, varied tones
travelling effortlessly around you,
did it seem like a miracle or just
the only sensible way for ears, throat
and lungs to work together? Pardon me
if I seem bewildered. My sister loves
microwave egg rolls and owns fifty pair
of shoes. She is lovely but silly though
she doesn't look frail; she doesn't know
that I leave my room in the apartment
we share to listen to her practicing,
singing Puccini in the shower because
steam makes the arias easier.
The rhythm of her heart is thump whoosh whoosh;
her blood is never sure where it is going.

Posted by Holly at 10:11 AM | Comments (5)

March 22, 2006

Ultra Easy Artichoke Dip

Sometimes at a restaurant someone will order artichoke dip as an appetizer, and say something when it arrives like, "You gotta try this! It's really good!"

The dip is often not bad, but it's not anything like this recipe, which I got a decade ago or so, in grad school, from a friend. She got it from her mother, who found it in a cookbook called something like One-Step Delicious Dishes Using Processed Foods, with most of the ingredients being, well, pre-processed in some way or another. In this case, the ingredients were:

one large can artichoke hearts, drained and quartered
one half cup mayonnaise
one half cup grated parmesan cheese
one teaspoon pre-minced garlic
coarse ground pepper to taste

Mix all ingredients in oven-proof casserole dish, taking care to mash artichokes. (Wipe any spills or smudges from the rim and sides of the dish or you'll end up with baked-on crud you'll have to soak for days to remove.) Bake at 350 degrees for 30-40 minutes or until top is golden. (A sludge of oil may also appear on the top.) Serve with crackers, bagel chips, or fresh bread. I typically double recipe and use four or five cloves of freshly minced garlic. You can also add other kinds of cheese if you like, but I prefer it with just the parmesan.

I made this for a party following my dissertation defense. My friend Matthew flew from Luxembourg to attend the defense and help me with the party (how's that for devotion!) and he commented that he had an artichoke dip recipe much like this, only it wasn't baked, and that baking made a lot of difference. It really does: the cheese gets all melty, the flavors and substances blend, and the garlic mellows. However, once it has been baked, it's also pretty good cold, though it reheats easily in the microwave.

A year and a half later, I visited Matthew in Luxembourg/Brussels (he was dividing his time between the two places) and we made this dip for his birthday party. Failing to understand the spirit of the recipe--that it uses unassuming processed foods--he went out and bought fresh, locally made mayonnaise, fancy marinated artichoke hearts, and a big block of parmesan cheese, which he insisted that I grate, because he was busy doing other more demanding tasks. I was indignant about the extra work, but I had to admit, the better ingredients made for a more delicious dip. It was the first thing at the party to be entirely consumed, and towards the end, some people didn't even use bread or crackers to eat it--they just dug in with a spoon.

These days I bring it to the occasional pot luck and every time I do, there's someone who says, "Oh, is that that great artichoke dip you make?" I always tell them how easy it is and provide them with the recipe, but for some reason there are people who won't make a recipe that has about 500 calories per teaspoon and raises your cholesterol just by its existence. But if you're not such a person, I really recommend you try this dip. (And at least it's vegetarian, although not vegan.)

Posted by Holly at 10:06 AM | Comments (2)

March 21, 2006

Un-Funny Bones

Recently a friend, aware that I have an interest in all things Buffy, asked me if I'd ever watched some show called Bones. He asked this because it stars David Boreanaz, whose major claim to fame is his role as Angel, Buffy's (first) vampire boyfriend. I had to reply that I had not, and could have added that I had no particular interest in ever watching it.

I wasn't even that into David B. when he got his own spin-off; anyone with any sense knows that Angel was infinitely inferior to Buffy. There are so many reasons for this, the first being that Angel lacked both the sparkling repartee and the psychological complexity of BtVS; it was pretty much just a crime show with a vampire doing the detective work. Secondly, Sarah Michelle Gellar might not be the best actress in the world, but she's still more talented than David B, and thus better suited to carry the weight of an entire series. (If you don't believe me, just watch "I Only Have Eyes for You" from Season II of BtVS--I could hardly bear the way DB overacted when he was possessed by the spirit of the school teacher murdered by her teenage lover.) He also didn't age that well; I admit I thought he was very hot when he first showed up as Angel in the very first episode of BtVS, but it wasn't long before he got all thick and jowly, which was odd and unfortunate, given that his character was supposed to be eternally young.

All of which is to say, I endured rather than enjoyed Angel; I watched it because as an academic who does Buffy studies, I needed to know how the story played out--until Season Five when Spike joined the crew, that is--then I watched it because Spike was on.

So I was very gratified to find a summary of Bones from Twisty Faster of I Blame the Patriarchy. She provided reviews of several shows she's seen recently, including this on Bones. She notes that it

encouragingly, has a female lead who a) isn't costumed in a cat suit and b) is supposedly some genius forensic anthropologist. But uh-oh, she is relentlessly patronized by Buffy's former vampire boyfriend, who has morphed into a studly overprotective cop for this series. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until we determine the identity of the killer!" he declares. "I can take care of myself!" the genius forensic anthropologist protests angrily. I see where this is going, and nod off. When I come to, sure enough, there is the genius forensic anthropologist, on her knees in an abandoned warehouse, bound, gagged, whimpering, bleeding sweetly from her forehead, fetchingly chained spread-eagle at the wrists. She is being menaced by a psychopath who is of course about to cut her up alive and feed her to hungry dogs. Buffy's vampire boyfriend saves her just in the nick of time. No matter how much booksmarts a chick has, she's never gonna escape the chained-on-her-knees-in-the-abandoned-warehouse scene.

I try to imagine Buffy's stud boyfriend chained on his knees in an abandoned warehouse, getting saved by the genius forensic anthropologist, and laugh myself back to sleep.

The thing is, in BtVS, Angel the stud boyfriend WAS chained up in an abandoned warehouse/ church undergoing renovation/ derelict mansion, and it was a Buffy, a mere slip of a teenage girl, who saved his studly ass--time and time again. The humor and drama to be mined in such a situation was one of the things Joss Whedon was going for when he created BtVS--along with a matter-of-fact assertion of female power and capability. All of which is one more reason Joss Whedon rocks and one more reason I won't watch David Boreanaz in a show not written and/or created by said JW.

Posted by Holly at 9:00 AM | Comments (4)

March 20, 2006

Springtime Is Not Come In

Today, I see by looking at my calendar, is the vernal equinox, also known as the first day of spring.

This is one of the days when I wish most desperately that I lived somewhere with A) a sizeable Druid population and B) warmer weather. I would really love to join a bunch of nature worshipers and frolic through the woods right about now, but I don't know many pagans here aside from myself, and it's still too stinkin' cold out.

Spring doesn't exactly suck in southern Arizona--sometimes, if it's been a wet winter, the desert will erupt in California poppies or other lovely wildflowers--but it's not something you long for, something you almost can't help but worship when it arrives, the way it is when you see this gradual but nonetheless dramatic victory of warmth and fertility over the bleak and barren cold, and you think, my god, looks like I'll probably survive a few more months after all.

I admit I never really got spring--in the sense of either understanding or receiving it--until I lived in Iowa. I remember walking along on a snowy day and noticing these strange bits of purple, like a few bright scraps of fabric strewn carelessly across a neighbor's yard. I remember the shock when I realized the scraps were flowers--crocuses, the first flower of spring. There is something deeply magical about crocuses, their petals so fragile and delicate while the plant itself is robust and bold enough to burst through ground that hasn't entirely thawed. I certainly delighted in strolling along sidewalks lined with orange trees on the University of Arizona campus, breathing in the heady, gorgeous scent of orange blossoms on a bright April morning. But that experience, although lovely and memorable, is still not as miraculous as welcoming the triumphal appearance of crocuses, tulips, hyacinths and some of the other early-blooming bulbs after a long, cold, dark, miserable, sucky winter.

Bulbs don't do well in southern Arizona--never gets cold enough--so I didn't really understood their appeal until I lived in the Midwest, but now I far prefer spring flowers to fall's late bloomers, like chrysanthemums and asters. And even among the bulbs, there are some I like better than others. I think daffodils are fine, but I'm not generally crazy about pale yellow anything. I like lilies of the valley and narcissus quite well, but I really prefer the more dramatic tulips. And my favorite bulbs of all are hyacinths--actually, hyacinths are one of the flowers I love best, particularly the pink and purple variety. I find the large clusters of small blossoms very beautiful, and I LOVE the smell.

But although the bulbs have already sent green bits up out of the ground, they haven't bloomed yet. OK, there's not much snow on the ground today and at this precise moment the sun is shining, but it's still really cold out--around freezing during the day, and well below freezing at night--and I'm FREAKIN' SICK OF WINTER.

There's this famous poem you read when you study medieval English literature, that begins "Sumer is icumen in, Lhude sing Cuccu," which translates, I am told, to "Springtime has come in, loud sing cuckoo!" (The cuckoo, I am also told, used to be one of the significant signs of spring in ye olde Englelonde, but global warming has changed that a bit.)

I would LOVE to sing cuckoo, I really would! But springtime hasn't really come in yet here, no matter what the goddamn calendar says, and while I'm not above singing cuckoo on my own, it's one of those activities (unlike taking a walk, watching a movie, reading a book, or blogging--you know, the kind of thing I generally like to do with my time) that just isn't as fun when you do it on your own.

So if you're someplace where springtime has come in, and you have someone who'll join you in the activity, do me a favor and sing cuckoo.

And then tell me about it. I would love to hear your springtime celebration story, and I hope I'll soon be singing cuckoo myself.

Posted by Holly at 9:14 AM | Comments (6)

March 19, 2006

Blood and Guts in Mutual*

I know, I know: I said I was going to quit hanging out at blogs written by devout Mormon feminists, because they annoy me so. And I haven't gone back on my word, because I haven't been hanging out, exactly: I've just visited a time or two. You see, Jana posted something really interesting about Mormons and menarche, and she began this interesting post with a quote from me. When she emailed me about it, I couldn't resist checking it out; and when I saw that it was, like many things Jana posts, insightful and provocative, I couldn't resist commenting. And then I couldn't resist going back later and seeing what other women had to say, and those comments were interesting too; so I commented again.

And then I thought, "Wow, maybe I over-reacted; maybe these devout Mormon feminist bloggers aren't so bad." So I followed some links and looked at some blogs and I can admit that I sort of over-reacted, but I can also see that I sort of didn't. I found sites that really upset me, but instead of freaking out, I took a deep breath, clicked on something else, and simply resolved never to go back to the sites that bother me.

But I encourage you to check out Jana's post and leave a comment on what you think we can and should do to make menarche a positive (if private and personal) milestone for young women.

*Mutual is one of the old names for the Mormon youth organization. I'm not sure what it's called now.

Posted by Holly at 9:57 PM | Comments (1)

March 18, 2006

Holly's Week in Review

I am pained to admit that despite my earlier expectation that I had an easy week before me because I was so productive over spring break, this week has been exceptionally busy. Thursday and Friday were REALLY hairy. The duties I had that day weren't especially onerous--I had to help entertain a visiting writer on Thursday, and on Friday I spent a couple of hours being interviewed for a documentary on memoirs that turn out to be fabricated, focusing on one specific memoir that is particularly suspect.... I won't share details, because it's not my project. Anyway, it was exhausting to sit there with a spotlight shining directly into my face for two hours (it reduces unflattering shadows, I'm told) but at least the guy making the documentary was really interesting and took me to dinner afterwards, so I felt well compensated for time. But the upshot of dealing with these claims on my time was that a lot of things I thought I'd accomplish handily didn't get done, and they have to get done by tomorrow night.

In other news, for lunch today I made the taco recipe I posted earlier, but used (as promised) some veggie protein weirdness in place of the premium ground Angus beef I typically use. The vegetarian version was OK, I guess, it just wasn't totally yummy, you know? It occurred to me that one problem might be the particular meat substitute I used (Smart Ground, I think it was called), that no doubt some are better than others.... Anyone have experience with vegetarian ground beef substitutes, and want to recommend one as superior to others?

Posted by Holly at 6:32 PM | Comments (4)

March 16, 2006

Chen Yo Jir in a Mexican Restaurant

So, the Ides of March turned out to be weird rather than awful, though the weirdness was extreme enough that it just might take a while for the awfulness to kick in--you never know. Let's just say I consumed more alcohol last night than I've recently been wont to do. While the hangover I've got right now isn't all that bad, I'm nonetheless having trouble thinking of anything to say, so I'm posting a poem, published several years ago and written a good while before that.

Chen Yo Jir in a Mexican Restaurant

This depiction wants to be
more than declarative,
wants to comment on the
human condition, so the subject
is not a rooster, an almond
or a groove of bamboo.
The subject's name is Chen Yo Jir
which is ancient and means
"telling stories, has desire."
Chen Yo Jir hasn't noticed
the orange and fuschia flowers
stapled to trellises and on the walls
of the dim Mexican restaurant
where he is eating tortilla chips and salsa,
salt grains scattering
off chips onto the table.
He is impervious as well to mariachi music
piped in from somewhere and so
sitting at the table, he begins to
cry think swear hate
hum. Chen Yo Jir begins to hum.
He knows he's humming off key.
He hums the verses and sings
the chorus because he forgot
to bring a newspaper and still
has not noticed the walls
thick with many flowers.
Right now his name, some old word
meaning "Telling stories, has desire"
seems as much a part of him
as the salt grains falling
from the chips are a part
of the table. He has let us
construct this image around him
and now he is bored
by our attempts to give
his life more meaning than he
ever did, he thinks we
should go to the movies
and leave him alone.

Posted by Holly at 10:52 AM | Comments (0)

March 15, 2006

The Ides of March

Monday afternoon a student stopped by my office and after he'd asked and I'd answered the question he had for me, he stayed for a few minutes to chat. Quite suddenly he surprised me by saying, "Wow, you're really happy today! You're, like, glowing or something. Did you get a new boyfriend last week?"

"I most certainly did not get a new boyfriend last week," I said. "And if I did, I wouldn't discuss it with you. But I'm not really that happy. You're just noticing it more because I'm easier to chat up in my office than in class."

"Nah," he said. "You're definitely happier. You must have had a really good spring break."

"Well, as a matter of fact, I did," I said. "I was, let's say, 70% as productive as I should have been, which pretty much counts as very productive, considering all I had to do. I'm caught up with most things. That makes me happy. The idea of having an easy week makes me happy."

After the student left, I analyzed my mood and realized I was indeed extra happy. For reasons I could not and cannot explain, I felt like a beloved child of the universe, blessed with abundant good fortune I was eager to share. I fully expected to come home and find some notice of success or largess mixed in with the pleas for money my mail usually consists of, but when there was no such notice, it didn't hurt my mood a bit. I was merely happy, uncomplicatedly and profoundly happy, which was great until it came time to go to bed. I was in such a fantastic mood, so full of good spirits and the delightful conviction that some entity was busy devising ways to bestow great bounty on me, that I couldn't fall asleep.

So, as I occasionally do when I can't sleep, I popped a prescription sleeping pill.

Insomnia has been one of the great trials of my life. Sometimes I simply cannot sleep to save my life, and there's no obvious answer as to what causes my insomnia, aside from clinical depression and/or severe anxiety. I have lots of experience in trying to overcome it. I've tried all kinds of prescription meds and I scoff at wimpy pills like Ambien, which is supposed to help make you drowsy (like I need something to make me drowsy when I've been sleep-deprived for well over two weeks!) and which also has a half-life of only three or four hours so that you don't wake up feeling hungover. There's also been this stuff in the news recently about how Ambien can cause memory blackouts: supposedly you can take it and be awake enough to have conversations and make really bad decisions--like going outside, taking off all your clothes, and picking a fight with a policeman--but not remember it the next day. That's not what I personally look for in a sleeping pill. No, if I'm going to take a prescription sleeping pill, I want it to be something that will render me unconscious as quickly as possible and keep me that way a good seven or eight hours. It's true that if I do wake up in the middle of the night after taking such a pill I feel all drugged and out of it, but I rather like the feeling because it means I'll almost certainly go back to sleep.

After years of trying different prescriptions, I found something a few years ago that worked for me: brand-name Restoril, generic Temazepam. Sometimes I'll go weeks or even months without needing to resort to it, but sometimes I rely on it quite a bit. It has been a godsend, but I have very strict rules about how often I can take it. I never take it more than two nights in a row or more than four nights in a given week unless I'm traveling (in which case I give myself permission to take it every night because there's something deeply awful about lying awake in someone else's guestroom and being really exhausted and irritable when you're on vacation). As for any remaining nights when I can't sleep, I employ various other remedies, including a Benadryl and a shot of vodka (which is what I used last night), chamomile tea, lots of yoga, visualizations, and when those fail, I'm not above sitting at my computer at 3 a.m. in the foulest of moods, sulking and bitching and sending email to everyone I know about how much I wished I were asleep.

Anyway the point of all this is that taking that pill is perhaps one reason why my extreme good mood was less extreme by Tuesday morning. That, and the fact that several of those minor tasks I didn't quite finish over spring break had to be dealt with on Tuesday, and I woke up knowing it. There was also a problem with the weather: Monday was rainy and warm; Tuesday was mightily windy and there was a decent amount of snow blowing around. It didn't accumulate--the wind wouldn't let it settle--but it was nasty and I had to run errands in it.

This morning the weather's lousy and I'm OK--not all that happy, but not exactly cranky, either, which I guess is good enough for a day that's supposed to be inherently inauspicious. For most of 2006 I've slept pretty well, but the last few days my sleep has been disrupted by something--I'm not sure what, since nothing has been all that different except for being really relaxed and happy, and if being relaxed and happy gives me insomnia, something's wrong. Restoring my preferred sleep pattern is going to become my primary project starting Friday--I've got social obligations both tonight and tomorrow night--and who knows? I might end up in a really good mood again soon after that.

Posted by Holly at 9:18 AM | Comments (6)

March 14, 2006

Advantages of Being a Woman Artist

Not long ago, a friend sent me a guerrilla girls postcard detailing some of the "advantages of being a woman artist." I thought I'd share, though you can find--and order--a poster of this list here.

Working without the pressure of success

not having to be in shows with men

having an escape from the art world with your four free-lance jobs

knowing your career might pick up after you are eighty

being reassured that whatever art you make it will be labeled "feminine"

not being stuck in a tenured teaching position

seeing your ideas live on in the work of others

having the opportunity of choosing between career and motherhood

being included in revised versions of art history

not having to undergo the embarrassment of being called a genius

Posted by Holly at 11:20 AM | Comments (6)

March 13, 2006

What I Did on My Spring Break

Last Tuesday I was talking to Wayne about what I'd done so far with my few days off and what I hoped to accomplish with those that remained. "I had to run some errands and take care of some stuff on campus today," I said, "and I've been trying to get through these batches of papers I collected last Friday, but I'm not done yet. I've got all this reading to do and I need to start working on my syllabi for next semester. And I really should do my taxes--if I don't do them this week, I don't know when I will. I was thinking I'd do some cooking, too, so I have some stuff in the freezer for later, but...."

"Good god, Holly!" Wayne finally erupted. "Do you ever think about the serious side of life? No, it's all fun and frivolity with you, all the time! ‘Grade some papers! Do my taxes!'" he mimicked, his voice becoming clipped and shrill. "I wish I could be so carefree! Holly, will you never acquire some sense of duty and obligation?"

It was a good point, but frankly I was too busy this week dealing with shit I had to do to devote much time to character-building exercises like acquiring a sense of duty. Maybe I can work on that this summer....

Anyway, today is the first day back in the salt mines after a nine-day long hiatus. The pathetic fallacy is working for me right now, in that there's a nasty gray sky spitting angry rain down on a sodden, sullen earth--ain't nothing glad about going back to work today. I really would love another few days off, but at least I accomplished a few of my primary goals. Here's what I got done:

*Graded all the papers in two classes, by Wednesday, so that I didn't have to think about grading once during the last half of spring break! Not only that, but I don't collect work in these classes for another week and a half, so that crap is off my plate for a good long while!

*Figured my federal taxes, including itemizing my deductions. I always sort of like doing my taxes, once I can bring myself to start the task. I'm definitely more of a word nerd than a number nerd, but I still kind of like adding things up. I'm getting a respectable refund this year, which always makes the math more fun.

*Whipped up a new tiered skirt in a print of red and orange paisley on a dark brown background.

*Took my car in for an oil change.

*Stocked my refrigerator and freezer with tasty, nutritious, vegetable-laden food.

*Made no-bake cookies.

*Read four of the books I'm teaching over the next six weeks: The Dew Breaker by Edwidge Danticat (I know she's all the rage but this just didn't work for me), Borrowed Finery by Paula Fox (I quite liked this one, a memoir by Courtney Love's grandmother, and she's written a sequel, entitled The Coldest Winter, that I really want to read as well), Waterland by Graham Swift (I absolutely loved this the first two times I read it in the early 90s, but this time I didn't like it so much), Life Isn't All Ha Ha Hee Hee by Meera Syal (lively and fun and ideal for a class on women's literature).

*Discovered two new Ben & Jerry's flavors (I hope they're new, not "limited edition"--B&J has a nasty habit of retiring my favorite flavors): Neopolitan Dynamite, which is Cherry Garcia and Chocolate Fudge Brownie side by side; and Vermonty Python, which is coffee liqueur ice cream with a chocolate cookie crumb swirl and fudge cows. Yum!

*Hung out with real live friends in actual social situations.

*Devoted many hours of quality time to bonding with my new television significant other, Miss Veronica Mars. I love this show! There are ways in which I think it's even better than Buffy.

*Had a chiropractic adjustment, a massage and an acupuncture treatment.

What I didn't get done:

*Failed to answer all my email (my apologies to my correspondents).

*Didn't send any work out to journals, but I will do that this week.

*Didn't figure my state or local taxes, but I always wait until the federal stuff has been submitted before I work on that.

*Didn't transcribe my notes from season II of Buffy for the paper I'm working on.

*Didn't scrub down my refrigerator (except for the vegetable drawers, which couldn't be ignored), even though the whole thing has started to smell a bit funky.

*Didn't attend to a few minor tasks I might not attend to this week either.

*Didn't exercise every day (weather was too crappy).

*Didn't write the backlog of blog entries, on topics ranging from niceness to sex, I keep meaning to write.

All in all I'm still reasonably happy with what I got done. And there are only eight more weeks in the semester, so I am confident I can survive it comfortably, especially since I am smart and frontload the work every semester. I find both I and the students are much happier if things get easier rather than harder as the semester progresses.

Posted by Holly at 10:21 AM | Comments (7)

March 10, 2006

Sylvia's Taco Filling

A couple of weeks ago I got a profound hankering for tacos, so I went to Wegmans, bought all the ingredients, then headed home and started cooking. I was browning the ground beef and thinking about the fact that although I try to avoid eating meat, sometimes it can't be helped because sometimes I just need tacos, when it occurred to me that I could substitute some sort of textured vegetable protein for the hamburger in this recipe and it would turn out just fine--and that I already knew this because my friend Matthew and I did precisely that while I was visiting him last November in Brussels.

My mother made sure her young children got plenty of protein: we had meat--usually red--at almost every meal: bacon for breakfast, some sort of beef for lunch and dinner. Nowadays I eat less meat each week than I used to eat each day. Considering how carnivorous my upbringing was, I think I could use the slogan of those old Virginia Slims ads--"You've come a long way, baby"--but instead of raising a cigarette casually to my mouth as a sign of my very admirable and enviable progress, I'd be holding a bowl of spicy tofu and vegetables, contemplating the meal with glee.

I am opposed to meat consumption on so many grounds: it is very expensive to grow the food to fatten animals for slaughter; farm waste, ranging from manure to offal, is a significant source of pollution; most animals raised for meat in the US are treated very badly while they are alive; and last but certainly not least, in order to eat animals, you have to kill them. The only reason I'm not opposed to meat is that I really like the taste of beef, but I keep hoping that will go away.

Because I still occasionally enjoy a good steak or a fine reuben and there's no adequate substitute for filet mignon or good corned beef but there are decent substitutes for hamburger, I should use those substitutes. (Mad cow disease is more of a risk with ground beef, but I buy very expensive ground beef that's supposed to be free of all sorts of ickiness, so I pretend that's not a problem.) I'm not quite ready to become a vegetarian, but I can still severely limit my meat consumption. The next time I make this recipe, I'll do it with some sort of vegetable protein in place of the ground beef.

I got this recipe in high school, from a friend's mother whose tacos were WAY better than the tacos my mom made. (Mom makes a fantastic pot roast and the best mashed potatoes in the world, but her Mexican food has never been great.) I don't suppose it's terribly authentic, but it's still good.

Sylvia's Taco Filling

1 pound ground beef or appropriate substitute
1 clove garlic, minced (or more if you are one of those smart people who likes a lot of garlic)
1 large onion, diced
1 15 oz can tomato sauce
1 can diced green chilis
1 large can olives, sliced
salt, black pepper and cayenne pepper

Brown hamburger or meat substitute; add garlic and onions and fry until everything is thoroughly cooked. Drain off excess fat, then add tomato sauce, chilis and olives; season to taste.

If you are a traditionalist, you can buy taco shells or make your own by frying corn tortillas, one side at a time so they curve, until they are crisp. (My mom used to do this, and I'll admit that there's a bit of a trick to it and that she was good at it.) Anyway, take this traditional vehicle for taco filling, add filling, then top with grated cheese, shredded lettuce, more olives, diced tomatoes, salsa, guacamole, etc.

I am too cheap and lazy to insist on such trappings when I make tacos at home. I like to put a portion of filling in a bowl, top it with cheese, then use substantial blue corn chips to scoop it all up, with a salad on the side. Also, I like eating real food every day but don't like cooking it every day, so on the rare occasions when I make this dish, I double the recipe, then freeze individual portions. It reheats nicely.

Posted by Holly at 8:09 AM | Comments (9)

March 9, 2006

This Is Your Life (If You're a Woman)

Borrowed from the Independent UK's Woman's Day Coverage

1% of the titled land in the world is owned by women

A baby girl born in the UK is likely to live to 81 - but if she is born in Swaziland, she is likely to die at 39

70% of the 1.2 bn people living in poverty are women and children

21% of the world's managers are female

62% of unpaid family workers are female

9% of judges, 10% of company directors and 10% of top police officers in the UK are women

Women comprise 55% of the world's population aged over 60 years old and 65% of those aged over 80

£970,000 is the difference between lifetime earnings of men and women in the UK finance sector

85m girls worldwide are unable to attend school, compared with 45m boys. In Chad, just 4% of girls go to school.

700,000,000 women are without adequate food, water, sanitation, health care or education (compared with 400,000,000 men)

Women in full-time jobs earn an average 17% less than British men

Women in part-time jobs earn an average 42% less than British men

67% of all illiterate adults are women

1,440 women die each day during childbirth (a rate of one death every minute)

1 in 7 women in Ethiopia die in pregnancy or childbirth (it is one in 19,000 in Britain)

In the US, 35% of lawyers are women but just 5% are partners in law firms

In the EU, women comprise 3% of chief execs of major companies

12 is the number of world leaders who are women (out of 191 members of the United Nations)

Men directed 9 out of every 10 films made in 2004

Also see this report from the UN on the fact that women are denied representation, making war on poverty hard to win, this story on advances made by women around the world, this harrowing report on hardships still imposed on Afghan women bu Muslim zealots, and this item on the fact that men in Britain are being advised that failing to obtain explicit consent for sex could result in rape charges--in other words, men are being told that if a woman is unconscious and a guy has sex with her, that ain't consensual.

Posted by Holly at 9:33 AM | Comments (1)

March 7, 2006

Movies I Love, Movies I Hate

In honor of Sunday night's Academy Awards, here's a list of movies I love, followed by a list of movies I hate.

Movies I love:

All About Eve, Babette's Feast, The Best Years of Our Lives, Bride and Prejudice, Casablanca, Cinema Paradiso, Diva, Dr. Strangelove, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, From Here to Eternity, Guys and Dolls, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Igby Goes Down, Lawrence of Arabia, The Manchurian Candidate (1962 version), Mary Poppins, Network, On the Waterfront, (all six hours of the 1995 version of) Pride and Prejudice, Pride of the Yankees, The Quiet Man, The Seventh Seal, Sid and Nancy, Singin' in the Rain, The Sound of Music, Strictly Ballroom, Thoroughly Modern Millie, The Unbelievable Truth, Without You I'm Nothing, Zorro the Gay Blade.

I like old movies and will watch (almost) anything with Jean Arthur, Marlon Brando, Cyd Charisse, Gary Cooper, Irene Dunne, Judy Garland, Audrey Hepburn, Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra, John Wayne.

When I was very young, my favorite movies were Mary Poppins and True Grit.

I dig old musicals (anything by Rogers and Hammerstein, and all kinds of other things as well), old war films (All Quiet on the Western Front, Battleground, The Big Red One, From Here to Eternity, The Longest Day, etc and have no patience with recent war movies like Saving Private Ryan and The English Patient that end up being even more moralistic and simplistic than 1940s films designed to build morale–Casablanca, after all, is a war film, written, filmed and released while World War II was far from decided), old westerns (back when I had cable, I would watch anything with cactus in it, and I dig High Noon, Rio Bravo, Stagecoach, etc--this is not to say I've never seen a bad western, but I'll sometimes watch them just for the scenery).

I'm fascinated by films from the first go-round of Ealing Studios: I'm All Right Jack, Kind Hearts and Coronets, The Knack, etc.

Movies I hate:

A Clockwork Orange, Dances with Wolves (I don't care that it came in at 75 in the American Film Institute's list of the top 100 movies ever--someday the world will recognize what shallow tripe that movie actually is), The English Patient, Last Tango in Paris, MASH, McClintock! (this is the second-worst John Wayne western ever! It's almost as racist and far more sexist than even Red River!) Napoleon Dynamite, Nashville, Quills, Seven, Shakespeare in Love (good god, could they mention that lame joke about "Romeo and Ethel the Pirate's Daughter" or whatever it was one more time?), Short Cuts, Signs, The Thin Red Line (a.k.a. Forrest Gump Goes to Guadalcanal, a.k.a. The Passion of the Marine), You've Got Mail (like I really want to watch Meg Hanks and Tom Ryan--or whatever their names are--stutter and smirk their way through roles previously played so well by Judy Garland and Van Johnson?)

Half the movies in that list I knew I wouldn't like but someone insisted I see them anyway.

For what that's worth.

Posted by Holly at 8:18 AM | Comments (4)

March 6, 2006

The 78th Annual Academy Awards

Six or seven years ago, I asked one of my teachers in grad school if he intended to watch the Oscars. He rolled his eyes in a fabulous gesture of contempt and wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Hardly," he said. "No one in the movie industry would watch an award ceremony about books. I see no reason to support Hollywood's masturbatory ritual of self-aggrandizement."

I could sort of see his point, but the fact of the matter is, I like movies, I like witty acceptance speeches, I like pretty dresses, and I like the Oscars.

I don't mess with other award shows; I tried watching the BAFTAs once but there was too much about stuff I didn't know or care about (though I should point out that this year the British Academy of Film and Television Arts knew better than to nominate Keira Knightley for her dreadful performance as Elizabeth Bennet) and the Golden Globes are just too clearly the imitator for me to get worked up about them. I stick with the Oscars.

I admit I almost didn't watch the Oscars this year; I forgot that my neighbor fixed my TV antenna while he was cat sitting over Christmas break and that I now get ABC. I'm glad I remembered before 8 p.m. last night: I felt this year's ceremony was pretty much worth all three and a half hours I invested in it. I thought Jon Stewart did a perfectly respectable job as host; I hope they have him back again. I especially liked the repeated invocation of film as the art of storytelling, and I was pleased when Larry McMurtry reminded everyone that we need to preserve the culture of the book.

Here are some of my own awards:

Best Acceptance Speech by a Guy: George Clooney, for Best Supporting Actor. I've never actually thought he was all that sexy--not that I found him gross or anything; he just wasn't my type--but last night's funny, thoughtful speech helped me understand his appeal.

Best Acceptance Speech by a Woman: Reese Witherspoon, for Best Actress. I liked what she had to say about June Carter Cash and "trying to matter." I finally figured out part of why I like her so much: she reminds me of my youngest sister. They have similar faces, similar voices, similar mannerisms. I think Reese is a fabulous actress but often shows appalling taste and makes dreadful choices in movies: I consider her more talented than Renee Zellweger, but she too often wastes her time and talents on schlock like Sweet Home Alabama and Legally Blonde II. I haven't seen Walk the Line yet, and I've been told it's not THAT great of a performance, but at least it ain't Just Like Heaven (which I refuse to see despite its being named for a Cure song).

Best Introduction of an Award: Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin. I pretty much loathe Robert Altman but it was worth having to watch the montage of his crappy films in order to see Meryl and Lily rif on his movies and what he tries to do in them.

Best Montage: the juxtaposition of real-life individuals with the actors who portrayed them on film. I really love Pride of the Yankees, and when the montage cut from Gary Cooper to the real Lou Gehrig giving the famous speech in which he declares himself one of the luckiest men on earth, I teared right up.

Hottest Movie Star: Uma Thurman. Fabulous dress, fabulous hair, fabulous makeup, fabulous human being. She looked totally hot AND graceful AND classy AND she better win an Oscar one of these days.

Scariest Movie Star: John Travolta. He has the strangest looking head. How do we know he's not really an alien?

Best Use of a Foreign Language: Ang Lee, accepting the award for Best Director, for his bit of Mandarin at the end. I was charmed by his acceptance speech. Sye sye, da jya, indeed! Gungsyi to you as well, Mr. Lee!

Movie I Most Want to See Now Despite Previously Never Having Heard of It: Tsotsi, winner of Best Foreign Language Film, from South Africa. I liked the director's acceptance speech. (To those of you who've seen not only this movie but the other foreign language nominees, what can I say: I live in a backwater these days and don't see many foreign films.)

Biggest "What the Fuck" Moment: "It's Hard out Here for a Pimp," Best Song. By all means, let's celebrate an extended whine about how hard life is for men who exploit women instead of suggesting that they NOT exploit women. (Please see Frankengirl's version, It's Hard out Here for a Non-Pimp.

Best Performance I Probably Still Don't Want to Watch: the clips of Phillip Seymour Hoffman's performance as Capote did make it seem like he earned the award, but it also made it seem like Capote is a really annoying movie to sit through.

Ugliest Dress: Charlize's, maybe. There were plenty.

Most Appreciated Absence: Thank god Gwyneth Paltrow didn't profane the stage.

Biggest Disappointment: Brokeback Mountain loses to Crash.

See also the analysis provided here by Saviour Onassis, and here and here by Jim.

Posted by Holly at 10:32 AM | Comments (9)

March 3, 2006

My To-Do List

Yesterday I finished my spring cleaning. It is, admittedly, a bit early for that kind of thing. I had originally planned to do it over my spring break, which begins today at 3 p.m. (Good god, I can hardly wait!) But there came a moment last weekend when I simply couldn't endure it any more; I had to vacuum my basement stairs and scrub my toilets right that second. Unfortunately, that second hit when I had lots of other things to do as well, so while I managed to attend to the basement stairs and the toilets, I had to postpone for a few days tasks like polishing the toaster, or sweeping and mopping under the beds.

But at 3:59 yesterday afternoon, it was all done: every last dish was clean, the ones I'd washed most recently drying in a newly scrubbed dish drainer; all the clothes but the ones I had on were laundered and neatly put away; and except for fur clinging to the exact spot where my cat was sleeping, every bit of cat hair in the house had been vacuumed up. (She's a smart kitty and retreated to the basement where she was out of my way.) It felt good. And even though I took care of one major task a bit early, my spring break to-do list is still going to keep me well and truly busy--but at least I'll be working in a thoroughly clean house.

I love to-do lists, and I feel strongly that the more detailed the list, the better. There are two reasons for this: 1) The more detailed you make it, the less likely you are to forget some important task. 2) The more detailed you make it, the more things you get to cross off, and most of the pleasure of a to-do list comes in crossing items off.

For instance, when I cleaned my house, I didn't just write "Clean house" on my list. No, I wrote:

Clean house

dust
scrub bathroom
scrub kitchen
sweep floors
mop floors
vacuum carpets

That way I still got to feel I was making progress even if all I did one day was the dusting. (I hate dusting. It's my least favorite housekeeping chore. I'd rather take out the trash than dust. I hate that you don't have to do anything except breathe in order to need to dust, because skin cells you've shed constitute a significant part of what mucks up your furniture. I hate picking up tchotchkes and putting them back in exactly the same spot, except without any dust underneath them. If I could get some magic fairy to relieve me of one particular chore, it would be dusting.)

I was going to post my to-do list, but somehow, that seemed more personal and revealing than anything else I've written. I guess it's not surprising, given that the list references all in one place my most quotidian tasks, my professional obligations, my artistic aspirations and even a few social engagements. Instead I'll tell you that high on my to-do list is attending to some blog entries I've been meaning to write for weeks but have postponed because they seemed involved and difficult. Hopefully I will get to them early in the week.

If I don't, I'll end up providing you with accounts of how I polished all my shoes.

Enjoy your weekend, everyone! I intend to enjoy mine.

Posted by Holly at 9:42 AM | Comments (4)

Not Feminist Housewives, Just Housewives; Not Feminist Mormons, Just Mormons

So, I just learned that Women and Authority by my friend Maxine Hanks is soon to be available in its entirety on the web. For those of you who've never heard of this book, it's one of the ovunal (as opposed to seminal) texts in Mormon feminism.

I really wonder why Signature is putting the book on the web, where no one will have to pay for it. Yes, the web makes a great archive, provided you've got a working computer and internet access. And documents on the web can be printed out, although it takes incredible amounts of energy. And I also suspect that this means that from here on out, Maxine will receive NO ROYALTIES for her work.

There is plenty more I could say about Signature Books and the way it treats women. But I think this pretty much sums it up: if you scroll down to the bottom of the page, you'll see a link to "Mormon Housewives." The site linked to is actually a blog of Feminist Mormon Housewives, but the good ol' tools of the patriarchy at Signature just erased the word feminist. It makes for a pretty significant difference, especially since the link comes right after one for "Mormon Polygamy."

Way to go, boys.

Posted by Holly at 9:23 AM | Comments (0)

March 1, 2006

Where I've Been

Very nearly everyone is sharing their own version of these maps, which let you highlight all the countries, states, provinces etc you've been to. Here's my world map:

create your own visited country map

Well, I guess I've been a few places, haven't I, though there's a real problem with the southern half of the globe--I've never been south of the equator. I think managing that has just become a goal. I've always wanted to go to Kenya, and I'm pretty hot to get to Australia as well--I love beautiful deserts, and Kenya and Australia have those. So I'd best find a way to get there.

As for the northern half of the globe--the map above makes it look like I've been all over North America, when in fact I haven't. All of Canada is blocked in, but I've only been to Toronto. That will change this summer, however, when I go on a cruise to Alaska with my family and we stop in British Columbia (which I have long wanted to see).

There's also that itty bitty white space known as Switzerland fouling up the middle of my map of Europe--I really should go there, considering that one of my aunts is Swiss and one of my cousins was born there. Soon....

Here's a map of the states I've been to:

create your own personalized map of the USA

That's right, I've never really been to Nevada even though I grew up in a state bordering it, because I'm not counting states where I've never ventured beyond the airport. I once spent a hellish night in the Las Vegas airport thanks to America West Airlines, but I don't think that counts. Same goes for Michigan: I've flown in and out of Detroit dozens of times, but I've never left the terminal.

You can also see I haven't been to the far northeast reaches of the US. I was born on the anniversary of the Boston Tea Party, and I like history, so I've always been keen to get to Boston, but somehow I haven't done it.

What really bugs me about this map is that North Dakota is unmarked. I took a little trip with a friend a decade ago or so, and we went to Devil's Tower and Mount Rushmore and such and we could have driven into North Dakota and I could have added it to my map, but my friend was driving her car and she had already been there and didn't want to go again, so we didn't. Chances are good I may never make it back there--who just ups and goes to North Dakota? Sure as hell not me.

Posted by Holly at 12:16 AM | Comments (4)