on: turning 46 and this year's #alldecembereverything

confession: i've been feeling a way about my birthday this year. i know that may come as a surprise to some of you, so go ahead and take a second to process that however you need to before you continue. 😉

it took a little while for me to realize that my feeling a way about my birthday this year is because i'm turning 46. not in a "holy shit i'm OLD" way, even though that's true, but because james was 46 when he died. 

i am going to be the same age my brother was when he died.

it's taken a while for me to say this online because it hurts. it hurt when i first said it out loud to my therapist and to a close friend. it hurts as i type this. i wrote about it in my journal earlier and definitely cried into my emotional support bourbon. 

i say that to say that i am feeling a way about this year's celebration. yes, i have plans, and i will likely be at a bar at least once or twice to drink with friends because that's how we roll.

but it doesn't feel "big." part of it is because this year has been challenging and exhausting and i'm letting myself nope out. also, y'know, ongoing pandizzle and the dumpster fire clusterfuck that is the world these days. 

there will still be celebrating, though, because i'm me and it's my birthday and the celebration can be whatever i want or need it to be. it doesn't have to be "big" to be real. 

one thing i'm going to try to work on during 46 and beyond, as i've started calling it in my head, is being more open and vulnerable. part of that is being able to say publicly that i'm going to be the same age my brother was when he died and hey, this shit is hard. i might lean on y'all more than usual in the coming year and hopefully that looks more like me being vulnerable vs. me being needy and clingy. if it doesn't, then i need y'all to be open enough to call me on it. i want us to be as honest with each other as we can be. deal? deal. 🤝

recipe reviews/merry new year?

it's 2022. if you're reading this, you survived 2021 and i'm proud of you.

last year was...something. my life being the way it is, i closed out 2021 in quarantine due to a positive covid-19 rapid test result. both pcr tests and 2-3 subsequent rapid tests came back negative, so i honestly don't know if i actually have/had covid or if it was a sinus infection or a cold or something else with symptoms similar to covid. luckily i didn't have any major plans; i was supposed to go out tonight to hang out with some former co-workers, but that was easy enough to nope out of. today was the first day since wednesday that i didn't wake up with a headache or sinus pressure, but my throat is still kinda scratchy in that "post-nasal drip irritating the back of your throat" way. yay for being fully vaccinated and boosted. yay for having a job that lets me work remotely. yay for having health insurance and access to medical care and testing kits. yay for living alone for making it easier to limit my exposure to other people. yay for symptoms being mild enough to keep me out of the hospitals b/c y'all know i don't like hospitals and i'd be more than ok with staying out of them, especially right now. 

before quarantine, i was planning on spending nye at home with a friend. i got home from grocery shopping, tested positive, and realized that i could and should still cook since i already had all the ingredients and also b/c i had energy to do so.

i considered making this proscuitto and sage croissant stuffing for thanksgiving, but decided to wait for nye. this was good! i'm going to incorporate some of the cheese and some of the proscuitto into the vegetable/croissant mixture next time, instead of piling everything on top. i'm going to try to freeze some of the leftovers to see how that works.

y'all know i try to get some sort of greens and black eyed peas going for january 1. this chorizo and black bean stew with collards recipe appealed b/c i already had chorizo and pork tenderloin in the freezer, and i'd substitute a can of black eyed peas for the black beans. i doubled the garlic b/c of course i did, used a whole pound of chorizo b/c why not, 1/2 a red onion instead of a white one b/c i forgot to buy a white onion and i wasn't going to break quarantine to go buy one or ask someone to deliver a single onion, and 1 1/2 cups of vegetable broth instead of water. oh, and i sauteed the collards first and then added them to the pot with the pork tenderloin and broth. shouts to jewel for actually having some decent looking collards available when i shopped. this was also good and i could see myself making it again. i actually made it on nye and had it for dinner last night, so i'm sure the flavors having more time to meld together helped. 

may this year be good to us in all the ways we need it to be. 

an observation of sorts

i went to check my mail earlier and, as i was closing my door, realized that i still have an occasional habit of looking at the door to make sure nothing's taped to it. y'know, like an eviction notice. never mind that i was actually home when i got served with eviction papers. never mind that it's been 10 years since said eviction. never mind that i've been current, if not a month ahead, on rent since i moved back on my own in 2017. there's still a part of me that checks. that worries. that wonders if and when the other shoe is gonna drop.

a running joke i've had with my therapist is that those of us who were more accustomed to dealing with anxiety/depression/grief/etc. before the pandizzle seemed to be slightly better equipped to deal with...gestures vaguely...all of this. there's some truth to that, i think. we've already developed coping mechanisms (no comment on whether or not those mechanisms are healthy) and ways to get ourselves through our day-to-day. this is just one more thing.

and yet...

i didn't sign up for one more thing. there are definitely days when i wonder if all the struggle and heartbreak and exhaustion were/are worth it. i'm tired of being tired. tired of waiting to see what the next disaster is gonna be. tired of putting in so much effort for what feels like such a small return. i found a post i wrote on my fundraising blog back in 2011 that referenced "playing superwoman when i can't even afford the cape" and holy shit past me was on to something there. i might be able to financially afford the cape now, but the mental/spiritual/emotional aspect? no thanks. hard pass. 

anyway, i say all that to say that as secure as i should be feeling these days, there's still a part of me that wonders if and when it's all gonna come crashing down. i don't necessarily like feeling this way, but the way the world's going these days, it still feels like a valid concern. 🙃

on: grace and grief

as i mentioned previously, i ordered a copy of my mother's death certificate a few weeks ago. it arrived today. i opened it knowing that i didn't really have any set expectations. i didn't think i would learn anything new about how or when she died. my memory of being told of her death is still quite vivid and i'm kinda tearing up just thinking about it.

i also remember being told at some point that she'd had a heart attack. this is what i told people for years because it's what i had been told. i think i was in high school when my father told me that while yes, she'd had a heart attack, it was really the cancer that killed her. i think we were in the car on a road trip, maybe. i just remember sitting there stunned because up to that point, no one had mentioned cancer and if they had, i shut it down with "no, it was a heart attack" because again, that's what i had been told. 

i thought about that while i read the death certificate. sure enough, it basically said that she died of a heart attack and she had cancer. none of this is/was surprising to me. what i found noteworthy, though, was being able to forgive my family for...i don't know...softening the truth a bit. i mean, no 7 year old should have to figure out what cancer means and why it took away someone they loved. all i knew is that my mother was sick and had been in and out of the hospital and then one day i came home after school and she was gone. 

like, current me can appreciate the fact that my father and everyone else let me continue making imaginary food to feed her. here, have this invisible soup. or a slice of make-believe cake. my father would request rabbit stew and i wish i could remember how/why that became a running joke - maybe i had a stuffed toy rabbit - and so i'd make imaginary rabbit stew. sure, why not?

as dysfunctional as my family was/is, they somehow managed to keep things relatively "normal" for me during that time. i still went to school and went to my best friend's house after school, which was convenient not only because our mothers were good friends, but also because we lived on the same block. my father still had to go to work every day, as did my brothers, and then come home and take care of my mother and me. i don't know how they did it. 

hence the extension of grace while reading my mother's death certificate. i'm choosing to believe that they did the best they could with what they had. maybe they needed to believe it was "only" a heart attack (and by no means am i trivializing the severity of heart attacks) in order to wade through their grief and, by extension, help me manage my own. i'm going to believe that there was no malicious intent behind them not disclosing her cancer. i'm ok with thinking that my father was waiting until he knew i could handle it before telling me. 

it's still #fuckcancer forever and always, amen. 

88 and/or grief hitting differently during a pandemic

my father would've been 88 today. i'm not entirely convinced he would've lived to 88, given his health issues and, y'know, systemic racism, but part of me likes to think he would've made it. i would've liked to see how our relationship continued to progress once i finished college. there was a definite shift once i turned 18 from "this is how i'm raising you" to "this is how i raised you" even though i was still under his roof and therefore following his rules. i can only wonder.

his birthday kinda snuck up on me this year. february into late march tends to be my annual time of blah due to birthdays and death anniversaries of people i love. i've been feeling anxious and sad and depressed but didn't think too much about it because, um, hi, we're still navigating our way through a pandemic. 

i have to remind myself (and my therapist has to remind me) that it's ok to be tired. to give myself grace. to feel whatever i'm feeling in the moment and do what's best for me. the degree of difficulty in doing that right now has definitely increased by...a lot. a metric fuck-ton, even. 

one thing that struck me last night is that i am usually super busy this time of year with concerts and plays and dance performances and museum visits and other social activities, all of which help me keep my mind off things and therefore lessen my desire/need to curl up into a ball and cry. can't really do that these days. on one hand, yay for having more time to sit with my feelings. on the other hand, ugh, more time to sit with my feelings. yes, i know virtual performances and events are options and yes, i've been taking advantage of those when/where i can, but we all know it's not the same. i'm actually signed up for a virtual talk this evening, with another tentatively penciled in for right after work, but i just want to go to bed. i'm sleepy and tired and exhausted and i'm having lots of feelings and leaving the house to do other things isn't the best option right now b/c cold and snow and covid. 

another thing that struck me last night? i don't have a copy of my mother's death certificate. i have my father's and i have one for james because i needed them for life insurance cash-out purposes back when i was (unsuccessfully) trying not to get evicted, but i don't have one for my mother. i guess i never needed it. i ordered a copy earlier because why not just lean into the morbid feelings when you've been crying off and on all morning? ugh, zero stars, do not recommend. 

we can all agree that grieving during a pandemic can and does look a bit differently than "usual." i know i've had conversations about how our coping mechanisms can only go so far b/c we can't gather together or travel or whatever like we used to. very few of us enjoy going to funerals, but not having the option to have a traditional service? it sucks. i reread what i wrote about grief in 2018 and while it's still true, it's also different. can't really meet your friends for drinks and food and hugs and conversation these days. i mean, i suppose you could if you and said friends are willing to take that risk and mask up and be socially distanced...which basically rules out hugs. sigh. 

it just occurred to me that pulaski day is on march 1 this year. march 1 is also the anniversary of my mother's death. luckily i have that day off b/c pulaski day is one of my favorite random holidays and thankfully i have enough vacation time to make that happen. luckily i made a reservation at the bar for that evening earlier this week. nice job, past me. way to be considerate!

so, yeah. grief is palpable and constant and i don't really have any advice or comforting thoughts right now, aside from muddle through it as best as you can. that's what i'm doing today. also today is national drink wine day so if that's something you're able and willing to do, feel free. i'll probably open a bottle as well. cheers. 

on: mutual aid

i've been thinking about mutual aid lately. not so much the networks/societies that have popped up and/or become more prevalent during the pandemic, but a more...i dunno...organic version. for me, it's more a notion of "if i have, you have." 

as i was pondering this the other night, it occurred to me that i learned this from my father, but not in any sort of overt kind of way. if you were hungry, he'd feed you. i don't think i really appreciated this while he was alive, but it's really been sinking in the past few weeks/months/years. whenever he came to visit me at nu, there was food involved. if i went home for a break or a weekend or even just for a day, i'd come back to the dorms with food. it didn't matter if i'd just been home or if he'd just been up for a visit the week before. "i see you, i love you, here's some food and maybe $20 if you want to order more food" seemed to be a prevailing theme. hey, remember when $20 seemed like a near-fortune in terms of ordering food? those were the days...

and it wasn't just me and it wasn't just food. one of his girlfriends needed to do laundry, so he went and picked her up so she could use our washer and dryer. never mind the fact that he "accidentally" locked her in the basement when another one of his girlfriends showed up unannounced. she needed help, he was in a position to help, problem solved. (if i remember correctly, girlfriend #2 left before girlfriend #1 tried to come back upstairs, but this was decades ago and my memory is fuzzy, lol)

it can be challenging, especially right now, to offer support when so many people are struggling. how do you choose? how much can you afford to give? is it even worth giving if it's a small amount? (yes.)

obviously you should do whatever makes sense and is comfortable for you. for me, it might be using what i'd normally spend on a weekend's bar tabs to virtually "tip" my bartender boos or donate to a couple of fundraisers. even before the pandemic, i'd sometimes buy extra groceries to share with un(der)employed friends. i miss showing up at the bar with snacks or the occasional dinner for all of us to enjoy. you need to eat? cool. let's eat. you want a drink or 2? that can totally be arranged. we might have to do it at a socially acceptable distance while wearing masks, but if you need and i have, let's try to figure something out.

do what you can, where you are, with what you have, for who you love. the "who" can be friends and family, or your favorite bar/restaurant staff, or people you haven't met irl but still feel a sense of community with, or some other definition. 

i realize this is sorta kinda preaching to the choir because almost all of y'all are doing this in some shape form or fashion, but it's good to have a reminder every once in a while, no? 

miss y'all. love y'all. try to stay as well as possible. 😊

on: loyalty

one of the "fun" things about interviewing for internal positions is that i feel less pressure than, say, a more traditional interview. don't get me wrong, interviews are still stressful, especially when you're worried about potential background noise and/or functional headphones while on zoom (yes, both of these things came into play today), but interviewing while you're already employed in a job you don't hate makes it a bit easier, imo.

i was asked today to name one of my enduring qualities. shut up. i know i have lots of them, but this question was part of an interview and therefore we're keeping it professional. 

i thought about it for a moment and decided on loyalty. it really started to resonate while i was explaining my answer, so much so that i made myself a note to post about it here. sorry about the lack of posts, btw. my heart was in the right place but, y'know, life.

anyway...loyalty. if i count you as part of my circle/friends/family/network, that's it. i will be your biggest supporter/cheerleader/sounding board/co-conspirator/etc. unless and until there's a reason for me not to be. same goes at work. if there's a way for me to help a teammate out and i can do it without jeopardizing my own workload? sure, count me in. yes, those have been famous last words at times.

the interviewer seemed to like my answer so yay? it'll probably be a few weeks before i know anything more, so stay tuned.

hope y'all had a pleasant *insert november/december holiday of your choice here*! 😀

june is bustin' out all over

today is sunday, june 7. prince would've been 62 today. nikki giovanni is 77 years old today. gwendolyn brooks would've been 103 (!) today. it's also my friend stephanie's birthday today. i love that so many of my faves share(d) a birthday. i tweeted a couple of my favorite poems by gwendolyn brooks and nikki giovanni earlier today. there are so many songs by prince that i love that i'm not even going to try to post a favorite or a top 5 or a top 10 or a top whatever.

interestingly enough, i haven't listened to any prince today. i also haven't cried (yet) today, so there may be a correlation. doubt it, though. super bowl xx is on as i type and i have so many memories of watching this game with my father and we're two weeks away from father's day, so it's entirely possible that i'll shed some tears before the day is over.

i've been crying a lot lately. primarily tears of anger, of sadness, of frustration, of sheer wtf-ness. there have been a few happy tears splashed in, but not many.

the past week or so has been rough. not just for me, obviously, but for umpteen others. this is my blog, though, so i'm gonna be a bit selfish and focus on me here. it's been rough on me and for me. if you reached out to ask if i was ok, i more than likely told you that i was safe and exhausted. that's still true. i'm safe. i'm exhausted. i slept for 5 straight hours the other night and woke up confused and thankful because it's been so long since i've done that. but i didn't say, and i'm still not quite able to say, that i'm ok. i'm working on it. trying to keep myself together enough to approximate something that could be construed as ok, but i'm not there yet. you're probably not there yet either. we can be not ok together, as long as you're good with social distancing because yes, virginia, there is still a pandemic going on.

i hope you're all doing as well as you possibly can be right now. that you and yours are safe. that you're remembering to try to eat. to stay hydrated. to do what you can to support the movement. my protesting/frontline days are long behind me, but i can still make a few donations and sign some petitions and signal boost on twitter and instagram when and where i can. there's more than enough work for everyone. figure out what you can do and do it. maybe you need to read more about how to be an anti-racist. maybe you need to diversify your charitable giving. maybe you need to, and are able to, have those difficult conversations (online or off) with family and friends about their repugnantly racist/sexist/homophobic/transphobic/classist/colorist/etc. viewpoints.

looking for some ideas on how and where to get started? i have a few suggestions. this is by no means an exhaustive list and not everything will apply to everyone.

do you like whisk(e)y? here's a list of black-owned whisky brands. also, if you're not a member of bourbon women (open to all gender identities), you should get on that. i'm a co-ambassador of the chicago branch and dusted off my PR hat long enough to write this statement. it has proper capitalization and everything!

do you like beer? are you in the chicago area? one of my favorite people worked with haymarket beer to make harold's '83 honey ale. here's a recent interview they did about the need for diversity and inclusion in craft beer.

are you a northwestern alum or otherwise affiliated with the university? check out this student-initiated petition to divest from law enforcement.

are you in a financial position to make a donation or two or ten? here, in no particular order, is where some of my money has gone recently:

• black lives matter chicago
• sista afya community mental wellness
• a queer pride chicago
• justice for breonna taylor
• assata's daughters

love y'all. mean it.

on: 43

barring any technical difficulties, this post will go live on my 43rd birthday. happy birthday to me! this was another year of me not planning any major activities, primarily because i didn't really have the energy to deal with the logistics of a group outing. my calendar has been booked pretty solid the past few months and it's nice to not have to do all of the things. hell, i spent the first few days of this year's birthday vacation running errands and going to doctor's appointments. i'm trying to be better about taking breaks so i don't wear myself down/out. 

i'm also trying to be better about acknowledging and being thankful for progress, despite the current state of affairs...well, everywhere. also it's the end of the decade and if you've been around for a while, then you know how tumultuous the past decade has been. it's not bragging to say that i've come a long way. my therapist caught me trying to underplay my accomplishments and they rightly called me out. it's totally ok to be pleased with progress while still pondering potential improvements. it's also ok to be pleased with how i'm feeling right now without needing to achieve more. 

it's already been 2 years since i moved into this apartment. i honestly don't know where the time went. bills are paid and i have copious food and beverage options handy. work has been bonkers lately but i can't control any of it, so i'm trying to ride it out and see what happens. it's great to even have that option. it's also great to have my circle of friends and family grow even stronger over time. 

what's next? good question. definitely continued shenanigans and fuckery with my friends. hopefully weeping with joy and not abject sorrow on election night. i'll likely be having another surgery to deal with my fibroids. i'll still be involved with bourbon women chicago, so if you're 21+ and want to learn more about bourbon, you should join now so you're ready for 2020. (memberships also make great gifts!) (also don't let the "women" part deter you - there are men in our group. if you identify otherwise, you are still and always welcome.) 

what else? i dunno. my therapist asked if i was going to make resolutions for 2020. i said i usually don't make resolutions so much as i try to keep moving in a positive direction. that obviously means something different for everyone, so your mileage will definitely vary. 

but first, i am going to celebrate my birthday. and yes, the celebration will continue through mlk day because why not? i deserve nice things occasionally. 😀

on: toni morrison

and she was loved. 

lord knows i wasn't planning on my first "serious" post in months being about toni morrison's passing, but here we are. i saw the toni morrison documentary a few weeks ago and fell in love with her artistry all over again. not that i'd ever fallen out of love with her work, mind you. y'know how sometimes you're reminded of how incredibly awesome one of your favorite artists is and you realize that yes, you must continue to stan? it was one of those moments.

and she was loved.

a friend texted me this morning to check on me because they'd heard the news and knew i'd be upset. i hadn't actually seen or heard anything until i checked twitter after that text and i totally cried on the bus en route to work. i texted another friend to check in on them because i knew they'd be just as, if not more, devastated as i was in that moment. then i got to thinking about my circle of friends and twitter and how we check in on each other whenever things like this happen and i was kinda ok for a bit. i have a postcard of this 1974 image of toni morrison posted on my cube wall and it made me smile even though seeing it made me teary all over again.

and she was loved. 

then i got to thinking about her books on my shelf, including this recent find, and i cackled because what the hell else could i do in that moment? seriously, if y'all knew how much i paid for that first edition, you'd cackle right along with me.

and she was loved.

"paradise" came out during my senior year at northwestern. i remember sitting in the suite (o hai 2-red!) literally yelling at the book because it wasn't making sense to me. i was no stranger to toni morrison's work at that point, but this book was giving me fits. i was spending hours on sentences and paragraphs when, if left to my own devices and time and life permitting, i could finish reading a novel in a matter of hours. to be honest, i'm still not sure i understood all of "paradise." i remember wanting cliffsnotes for the book because i just knew that i was missing something. but that was part of the joy of toni morrison's writing - she could draw you in and keep you there even though you knew good and well that you were out of your league.

and she was loved.

toni morrison really was loved, y'all. by me and by so many others. i hope she knew just how much we loved her. appreciated her. owed so much of our reading and writing lives and habits to her.

and she was loved.

and for these things (and so many others), we give thanks

i woke up earlier this morning and went to grab a ginger ale from the fridge. the fridge is pretty full right now because i decided to order most of my thanksgiving meal and picked everything up yesterday. anyway - grabbed the ginger ale, saw the current state of the fridge, and almost wept in gratitude. not just for the food, mind you, but for...well, everything.

i remember thanksgiving 2011 when i was staying with bff as part of my couchsurfing tour after being evicted and before my stint as a quasi-nanny in the burbs. hell, i remember last thanksgiving and prepping to move the week after and being so exhausted that i couldn't have left the house that day even if i wanted to, which i didn't because of said exhaustion.

look at me now. i'm in my own space with no plans to move anytime soon. i'm going to have some food and then go out to drink with some friends because i'm not exhausted and i actually feel like being social. it's been a helluva year and i'm thankful to still be around and present enough to acknowledge this despite the ongoing dumpster fire clusterfuck surrounding us.

here's to food and friends and chosen family and all the other things that bring you joy. happy happy gobble gobble!

on: saying goodbye to the end of an era

bishop tears is dead. 1st c. will never be the same. carol and her sisters lost their father. carol has now lost her father and her husband in a nine-year span.

i tweeted a mini thread when bishop died. i don't think i can say it any better than i did there.

i still can't believe he's gone. i'm glad he's no longer suffering or in pain, but it's still kinda mind-boggling to me that i won't see or hear him live and in person again.

i don't know what's next for the church. i really don't know what's next for carol. i'm hoping to find a way to show my support for her based on what she wants/needs and not what i or anyone else might think is best. sometimes it's hard to get out of my own way and my own head.

if i haven't already thanked you for your condolences/thoughts/prayers/etc., please accept my thanks now. i appreciate it, and you, more than i can say.

on: being a child-free woman of a certain age

I again faced a dilemma I’d been struggling with since turning 40: how to counter other people’s disbelief that I, single and child-free, could possibly be enjoying my own life.

i am so glad that this is not my dilemma. i read this nyt piece yesterday about a single woman in her 40s who, as far as i can tell, is living her best life right now. part of me can't believe that she encounters so many people who feel compelled to give unsolicited opinions on her marital and/or parental status (or lack thereof, i suppose).

yes, i occasionally come across someone, usually a stranger, who cannot believe that i don't have kids and have no desire to give birth. i am actually ok with being a 40-something single woman with no parental responsibilities. anyone who knows me relatively well knows that i have never felt the overarching desire for children. quite the opposite, really - i've known since i was a teenager that i didn't want to have kids of my own. being aunt(ie) eulalia is perfectly fine with me and has been for quite some time now.

this poor author, though. imagine being seated at a dinner next to someone you admire and having them tell you that you have a "terrible life." are you jealous, or just rude? (although i could be ok with getting a free steak out of the deal, if i'm being honest.)

My life is full of deeply meaningful relationships that go unrecognized when people tell me “not to worry.”

...If close relationships make people happy, as research suggests, I’m lucky, and grateful, to be inundated with those.

true. so very true. i'm so blessed to have the family i've created. y'all sustain me. you remind me of the differences between being alone and being lonely. basically, y'all are wonderful and amazing and i'm so glad none of you have said anything weird about my lack of progeny to my face because i might have to reconsider our whole relationship at that point.

on: female friends

just finished reading this book and have spent a little time thinking about friendships between women off and on all weekend. the author discusses how making and maintaining friendships with other women used to be challenging for her, which, to be honest, is not something i can easily identify with.

i did appreciate that the author quoted a professor who pointed out that viewing friendships as an indulgence as opposed to a necessity, especially when you consider it along racial and socioeconomic lines. white middle and upper class women of a certain age were taught to focus their efforts on finding a husband and taking care of the family. friendships weren't seen as essential. for women who weren't as well off, though, friendships were a part of life. you had to have a network for helping with child care or job hunting or transportation or any other number of things.

that makes sense to me. i can't remember a time when i didn't have friends who are women (or who identify as women). looking back, i can't remember my mother or my sisters-in-law or any other women i grew up with not having female friends, either. after my mother died, i went to live with her best friend's family because daddy couldn't keep working and make sure i got to/from school every day. it was great for me because she had a daughter around my age and we were totally besties. there were always examples of friendships among women (particularly black women) for me to follow. while i heard all kinds of variations of "you need to be independent and be able to take care of yourself and not rely on any man to do it for you" growing up, there wasn't much discussion of how to manage friendships. maybe it was implied, based on how the adults in my world operated. of course you would have friends and spend time with them whenever possible and be there for them. that's just what you do.

i guess that's part of what made this book so fascinating for me. the notion of a woman feeling that friendships with other women aren't important or don't matter or are out of reach just does not compute. yes, i know there are plenty of "i don't like women" or "all my friends are guys" or "women are just too [insert adjective here] to be friends with" women out there. i wonder if they know what they're missing.

i also got to thinking about my female friends, and how they've navigated and continue to navigate various life changes (marriage, kids, deaths of family members or friends, moving, etc.) while maintaining the friendships that they've deemed worthy of honoring and respecting. how we've come to a point where we can identify the people who matter most to us and do what we can to make sure they know how important they are. it's not easy work by any stretch of the imagination, but we do it because the payoff is just so great. there are any number of women i could reach out to right now to chat about various things, both major and minor, and i hope they know they can do the same.

coincidentally enough, the sex and the city movie was on as i finished reading the book. i've seen the movie more than once and when i turned in this afternoon, it was near the end. even though much can and has been said about how the characters from the tv show/movie aren't as relatable as some people would like them to be, i'm still struck by how they stand up for each other. that's what friends are supposed to do. it's amazing when it works and i really think that's why we keep at it. friends are awesome and i am definitely a better person for having y'all in my life. 💜

meal prep, recipe reviews, and attempting to get back on track

the past month or so did a number on me, for reasons that have been previously discussed here. in an attempt to regain some normalcy, and because i realized that my calendar was relatively open this weekend, i decided to do some meal prep. i'd felt like i hadn't really spent any quality time in my kitchen in a while, and i really think it helps me both mentally and physically when i don't have to give much consideration to what's for dinner or lunch or breakfast when i have available options in my fridge/freezer.

somehow, this turned into a marathon cooking session of seven dishes (eight if you count the refrigerated diced potatoes that i decided to cook so i'd have them on hand as a side dish). i spent a little time earlier in the week going through my recipe binders and picking out things that sounded appealing based on what i had on hand and what i thought i'd be in the mood for. there were a few repeats in the pile (fish cakes, frittatas, and a bbq turkey sloppy joe that i hadn't made in what felt like forever) along with a few new to me ideas. here goes:

parmesan chicken thighs and veggies: i had chicken thighs on hand, so i only had to shop for the veggies. this was dinner last night, with rice vinegar instead of white wine vinegar and carrot chips instead of peeling/cutting carrots. i also added about a 1/2 teaspoon of garlic powder because garlic is delicious. i hadn't used the broiler on this oven yet so there were definitely some well-done spots, but everything still tasted good. i'm probably going to freeze 2 of the thighs and most of the veggies for use as a future lunch or dinner.

maple-mustard glazed chicken: i haven't actually eaten any of this yet, but i will say that i used 1/2 teaspoon of dried thyme instead of fresh, 3 small minced garlic cloves instead of 2 medium sliced, and 1 tablespoon of champagne garlic mustard that i brought back from my nye trip because i don't have any stone-ground mustard on hand. i should probably add some to my grocery list, because the sauce didn't seem to come together as i thought it should. we'll see how it goes after i reheat a serving or two. i actually had all of the ingredients (minus the stone-ground mustard) already on hand.

honey balsamic green beans: green beans were on sale at jewel and i knew i had everything else. this may or may not be a repeat, but since i can't remember the last time i made them, i'm willing to count it as new. yes, it's a paula deen recipe that, in hindsight, she probably "borrowed" from one of her minority employees. blame past me for printing the recipe back in 2010 and holding on to it all this time. full disclosure: those symphony brownies that i used to make all the time back in the day? also a paula deen recipe. we're all tainted. sorry.

dijon fish cakes: i love these so much. i had a bag of tilapia fillets in the freezer, so i knew i'd be making a batch of these because they're so easy and so delicious. i was catching up on barefoot contessa (hooray new season!) and she made a version of these with cod and lobster and that just seemed a bit too decadent for my taste, although i'd probably try them at least once. i used dried tarragon (a teaspoon, maybe?) in place of the dill.

i also made a batch of muffin-tin frittatas with breakfast sausage, yellow (or was it orange?) bell pepper, scallions, and swiss cheese. i had just enough swiss for maybe half of the batch, so i switched to an italian style blend for the rest. those will likely be breakfast for the week.

i wanted to use my crock pot for part of my meal prep, and a recipe for southern-style chicken and dirty rice from this atk cookbook caught my eye. the recipe called for 4-5 hours on low, so i went with 4.5 hours. probably could've gone with 4 hours flat, since the final texture was a bit on the mushy side.

i can't find a link for the bbq turkey sloppy joes, but it's pretty simple - cook some ground turkey, drain, add chopped bell pepper and onion, add bbq sauce, and done. i bought a bag of spinach so i'm doing a sloppy joe salad of sorts for a few lunches this week.

after all that time i spent in the kitchen, though? i really did feel better. like i had a firmer grip on things and could possibly maybe tackle the coming week and any/all ensuing drama. lord only knows if i'll actually be successful, but at least i'll be able to eat relatively well. 😛

recy taylor is still alive

(TW: rape)

every year, i say i'm going to be better about planning my chicago international film fest schedule, and every year, the fest sneaks up on me and i feel like i have to scramble to get tickets for the films i really want to see.

"the rape of recy taylor" was one of the films on my list for this year. i no longer remember who recommended "at the dark end of the street" to me, but i remember reading it and being fascinated. here was rosa parks, years before the bus boycott, working to help fellow black women get justice in an environment that couldn't even fathom such a thing for such a people. and here was recy, daring to stand up and speak up about what had happened to her, consequences be damned.

needless to say, i was in tears within the first 10 minutes of the movie. sadness, yes, but also anger. knowing that so many of us are still dealing with and healing from all kinds of trauma. that shit like this still happens with what feels like impunity. that no one believes us when we say "this is a thing that happened to me." i caught myself on the verge of kicking the chair in front of me, which i hadn't done since i watched "fruitvale station" in the theater and cried so much that i gave myself a migraine.

but then.

y'all.

recy taylor is still alive.

at the end of the film, we see and hear from recy directly and i am getting weepy just typing about it right now. i remember thinking to myself that i'd just managed to pull it together and then recy comes on screen and holy waterworks, batman. i apparently had cried so much during the movie that, on our way out, a woman nearby asked if i was going to be ok. i'm sure my eyes were red and my face was all blotchy. i wound up taking a lyft home from the theater because i was emotionally drained and i wasn't sure i could make it home on public transit. i think i wound up going to bed insanely early that night, too.

worth it, though.

and then this piece from bitch landed in my inbox this morning. i saw "marshall" (for free!) a week before it opened in theaters, thanks to a screening hosted by my employer, and a lot of the thoughts/feelings i had about the movie are addressed in that essay.

this is what happens when you read a lot, i suppose. at the "marshall" screening, i was surrounded by people who admitted that they didn't know much about thurgood marshall. i was at an advantage because i'd read this biography which, if memory serves, mentions the case that the movie focuses on. i could totally be wrong about that, but i remember watching the movie in a "well, of course this is what happens" kind of way. people left the screening waxing poetic about how much they'd learned and i felt like maybe i wasn't the target demographic for the movie, lol. absurd, of course, given that the director and producer were in my employer's nyc office urging all of us to take our book clubs and sororities and church groups and families and friends to see the movie when it opened. (i didn't, obviously. my review can be summed up like this: i'm glad i saw it for free.)

i suppose this could be chalked up to the difference between a documentary and a mainstream feature, maybe. that maybe there's more room in documentaries to flesh out stories that need to be told, even if your audience has read or is at least familiar with the source material.

speaking of documentaries: please plan on watching "sighted eyes/feeling heart" when it airs on pbs next year. i've seen three movies at the international film festival and this lorraine hansberry doc is my favorite so far. also i realized that i still get emotional when i see ruby dee and/or ossie davis on screen. sigh.

once a wildcat...?

i graduated from northwestern almost 20 years ago (holy shit i am the old) and while i always tell people that if i had it to do all over again, i'd go back to nu in a heartbeat, there are still some things that bugged me and continue to bug me about the school/administration/environment. enrollment and retention of minority and traditionally underrepresented populations has improved marginally over time, but i can still remember being downright giddy when a freshman class had 10% black people because omg we'd broken double-digits. (told y'all i was old.)

i still subscribe to the nu alumni newsletter/magazine and attempt to at least skim the alumni emails that land in my inbox. there was part of a note i received today that piqued my interest, so i followed the link and read about a new homecoming tradition at my alma mater.

instead of electing a traditional homecoming king and queen, there will be a single homecoming wildcat. it sounds kinda cheesy, i know, but this is what really sold me:

"The 12-person Homecoming Royalty Court formerly included six men and six women; the 12 top candidates will now be selected regardless of gender."

i will be the first to admit that i did not have the understanding or vocabulary to knowledgeably discuss gender identity some 20-something years ago, so as much as current me would like to be all "y'all should've done this way before now," i can't honestly say that because such a thought probably wouldn't have even occurred to me back then.

but here we are, in the year of our lord and savior black jesus 2017, and i am proud of northwestern for making a step in the right direction. here's to being a wildcat.

so this is august...

today is august 1st.

i am 10 days away from having an mri exam on my breasts. please don't panic (because i'm doing enough of that for all of us, trust me) - i have not detected anything amiss, nor have my doctors, but given my family history and risk factors, we all want to err on the side of caution. also i want to do it while i still have employer-provided insurance because god only knows what's going to happen with that.

after i made the appointment for the exam, i called quasi-landlord to ask if i could crash with her the night before so she could drive me to the hospital, because i realized that worry about the logistics wasn't something i really wanted to deal with. i also asked the staff to prescribe some sort of anti-anxiety meds for the exam because we all know my hospital phobia is real as fuck and no one wants me freaking the fuck out. also the exam is supposed to take 45 minutes (heh) and there's no way i'm going to be calm and still for that long in that setting. q-l says we can go have breakfast afterwards because she knows i won't be hungry beforehand and the meds will have me loopy enough to need something on my stomach.

let's talk about how proud i am of myself for 1) remembering to make the appointment in the first place and 2) reaching out to q-l for help. y'all know how forgetful i can be. i can also be stubborn as hell and feel as though i can do everything by my damn self and then i'm wondering why i'm so fucking tired and anxious and depressed. sometimes you gotta outsource some shit.

so, yeah. i haven't said much about the exam even though it's been on my calendar for damn near a month. i am actively trying (and failing) to panic as the date gets closer. i am super duper vigilant about breast self-exams and i've already had 2 mammograms this year, thanks to the first set of results being inconclusive. that was fun, let me tell you. i know in my heart of hearts that there is nothing wrong and that there should be no surprises when the exam results come back. this is not just me being ridiculously optimistic. i really do believe this.

and yet, my brain works in mysterious ways and sometimes it likes to overthink things and panic when there is no logical reason to do so. it's a blast. if, heaven forbid, something goes wrong, i know that i can pull together some semblance of a plan and go forward after i have my initial "omg wtf is even happening right now" breakdown. that's what i do. i freak out for a minute (hour, day, month, whatever) and then i get back to work. sometimes, though, my brain doesn't allow me to work through things in a sensible way and i wake up in the middle of the night unable to breathe because "what if they find something?" i am a goddamn ray of sunshine in those moments.

this month is also momentous for me because james would have been 55 this year and that is totally and completely fucking with me. sometimes i forget that he was only 46 when he died. when i'm really committed to wallowing in self-pity, i rage about how fucking unfair it is that he died so goddamn young and how dare he be taken from me and carol and everyone else who loved him when it's so obvious that we still need(ed) him around? if i allow myself to be honest outside of my therapy sessions, i can acknowledge how selfish i'm being and how i obviously had no control over when/how my brother was going to die and of course none of it is my fault. then i start feeling like a big bay because i miss him so much still that, again, if i allow myself to be open and honest about it, it physically feels like a part of me is missing. like there's a hole in my chest that can't be repaired. it stinks. i don't like it.

i was all set to get a tattoo (both daddy and james had the same first and middle initials, which made my decision easier) on what would've been on james' 55th birthday this year, until i realized it's the day before my friends' wedding. the tattoo will happen before the year is out, though. it's the only remaining item on my original "get your shit together" list. you may recall that the other items on the list were paying off my eviction, having fibroid surgery, and moving into my own place. all of those boxes have been checked and unpacked. i will somehow power through my dislike of needles and get this tattoo on at least one area of my body.

james would have been 55 and lori would have been 56 this year. did i mention how much this sucks? because it really does. of course their birthdays are a day apart because god in his infinite wisdom wanted to make sure that i could suffer in concentrated chunks of time vs. spreading that shit out. i'm ok with that part, actually. i tried explaining this to my therapist during my annual february/march doldrums and i'm sure she thought i was protesting too much at first, but when i broke down the schedule of dates and how/why they have such an impact on me, i think she came around.

my mri exam is on lori's birthday, which is the day before james' birthday. my friends' wedding is two days after the mri exam. i didn't have the birthdays in mind when i scheduled the exam but i was thinking of the wedding, since i was already taking that monday off as a recovery day (because drinking), so i figured i might as well get an extra long weekend out of it.

with that said, my current approach to this month is to make it to this wedding without completely losing my shit. if i survive the next, oh, 2 weeks or so, then i should be able to get through the rest of august relatively unscathed. hopefully. *knocks on wood* *crosses fingers* *prays to saints* *lights candles*

on: not losing recipes

i spent a good chunk of today going through my paper recipe files. i currently have three large binders filled with recipes that i've clipped or printed or typed up. before today, i hadn't really looked at those binders since 2011. i'd been accumulating recipes since then in a couple of overflowing manila folders (and on my laptop, but let's not discuss that right now), so i decided it was time to file those away while reviewing ones i'd previously saved.

it was interesting to me to see how my taste have changed and/or evolved over time. i wound up tossing dozens, if not closer to a hundred or more, of previously saved recipes into my recycling bin. there were dishes that i knew good and well i'd probably never get around to trying. dishes that had ingredients that i don't like and couldn't easily substitute for something else. dishes that probably sounded good to past me, but current me was like "um, no thank you." dishes i'm not really sure why i saved them in the first place and since i'm in no danger of running out of ideas, away they went.

i found a couple of recipes that i'd made from memory just in the past couple of days, including a sauce i used for my crockpot ribs today, and some other old favorites that were relatively heavy in my rotation. i'm actually kinda excited about revisiting some of them and trying out some new ones, all the while hoping that i get the knack of this electric stove sooner vs. later.

greetings from casa de eulalia!

apologies for the silence, folks. i was kinda busy, what with finding an apartment and being approved for it and signing a lease and buying things and packing and unpacking and trying to get organized and all. wait...what?

i am currently typing this from my apartment. an apartment that i am straining my budget to afford every month, but it's mine and i have a balcony and it's closer to work and one of my most frequented bars is like 3 blocks away and it is all mine. woo!

how long have i been waiting to write a sentence like that? oh, only 6 years or so. part of me still can't believe that this is happening. that i am actually in a space of my own and my name is on a lease and holy fucking shit you guys i am finally in a living situation that i picked out and have complete control over. well, as much control as an apartment renter would have, anyway.

i haven't been here a full week yet, even though i've been moving stuff in and out all month long, so there's still some things for me to get used to or discover. like the water pressure in the shower being so low that it makes me sad every morning. like cooking with an electric stove, which i've done only a few times before. like remembering just how much i appreciate silence, especially since i don't have a tv yet. like figuring out what kind of seating arrangements i want in the living room. do i want a couch? a table and chairs? a couple of bar stools near the kitchen? a pile of big fluffy pillows? some combination thereof? so many options!

a big huge thank you to everyone for all of their support during the move and, well, during the past 6 years. the journey took way longer than i thought it would, but i'm here, and i am beyond grateful.

if you didn't get my "o hai i moved here's my new contact info" email and you think that maybe you should have that handy, let me know. my memory is trash and i'm sleep-deprived and it's entirely possible that i inadvertently left someone out. sorry.