recipe review*: bratwurst & veggie skillet

*-not sure if this counts as a review per se, since i didn't follow the recipe so much as i used it for inspiration.

i had a package of bratwurst in the freezer that needed to be used, but i didn't want to break out the grill pan and i wasn't really in the mood for making beer brats. to the interwebz i went and found the recipe linked above. in finding the link to copy/paste it here, i realized that i inadvertently left out both the cayenne pepper and the dried oregano when i made this the other night. i printed the recipe while i was at work and somehow those 2 ingredients got left off the page. oops.

there were 5 bratwurst in the package, so i thawed and sliced all of them. i used 6 small-to-medium red potatoes that i scrubbed and diced, along with the 2 red bell peppers and the sweet onion specified in the recipe. i found some baby rainbow carrots at the farmers market, so i peeled, washed, and cut them to use instead of the zucchini. i have roasted garlic powder instead of regular garlic powder because i wasn't paying close attention to the label when i bought it, but this is a good problem to have, imo.

i am still getting accustomed to how my oven works, so i let this bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes, stirred everything around a bit, and let it continue baking for another 25 minutes or so until the potatoes and carrots i tested were tender. upon further review, i discovered that some of the potatoes were still a bit on the firm side, but not in an inedible way. i may freeze some of this to see how it holds up.

if/when i try it again, i'll probably use a different kind of sausage. maybe sweet potatoes or butternut squash instead of red or russet potatoes. probably carrots again, or maybe parsnips? we'll see.

on: saying "no" to yourself

we hear a lot about self-care. about putting yourself first. about treating yourself. about saying "yes" to yourself and the things that make you happy or bring you peace or whatever. but what about saying "no?"

i had some downtime yesterday between outings and decided to go home, have some lunch, do a bit of meal prep, maybe take a nap, and maybe clean my apartment before heading back out. the cleaning part was really weighing on me because i'd had to give myself permission to skip everything domestic last weekend (except for laundry and dishes) because i was way too busy and i just didn't have it in me to do anything else. even that was a struggle. i wish i'd kept count of how many times i said something like "ugh, i really need to vacuum" or "i wonder if i can pay someone just to clean my bathroom" last weekend. it was a struggle but since i'd said "yes" to doing all of the social things, i knew something had to give.

back to yesterday. i had my lunch and did my meal prep and was all set to maybe vacuum before taking a nap, but suddenly my body was like "nope." instead, i read for a little bit and then dozed off for, i dunno, maybe 30 minutes tops? i woke up and immediately knew something was off. i had the beginnings of a headache and i felt a bit queasy, which i was willing to chalk up to maybe drinking too much too quickly on a relatively empty stomach, but as i got out of bed, i realized that i was in actual physical pain. my apartment's not huge and yet walking from my bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen felt like a chore. this, of course, did not bode well for the last event on my calendar, but i figured i still had time to at least start cleaning up before heading out. i took an aleve, drank some water and some ginger ale, and decided that i could at least vacuum the apartment before i left and worry about the rest of the cleaning when i got back that evening.

by the time i finished vacuuming, though, i still wasn't feeling quite right. the queasiness had eased up a bit but was still lurking, as was the headache - which made me think that maybe a migraine was coming - and moving around my apartment still left me feeling as though i was literally dragging myself around.

i gave myself 10 minutes to sit back down, figuring that i could still get dressed and head over to my destination. i was only going ~5 blocks from home, so i decided that if things got really bad, i could just leave the event and head back home. on foot, of course, because the cta doesn't want me to have nice things like service on the #11 or the #37 on weekends or, as was announced this afternoon, no service on the #11 at all come september.

i was all set to say "yes" because i was going to a reading of a new/in-progress play, which is one of my favorite ways to enjoy the theater. also the playwright in question has written other works that i've enjoyed, and based on the synopsis i'd read, this production would also be right up my alley. oh, and it was free. all of the boxes were checked for a "yes."

and yet i had to say "no." the thought of getting dressed and walking to the venue and back was almost enough to make me want to cry. i was that physically tired. it's like the nap did nothing. the headache and queasiness were pretty much gone at that point (hooray for no migraine!), but i knew the best thing for me would be to curl up in bed with a book and relax, so i did.

that really fucking annoying voice in my head wouldn't shut up about the apartment cleaning, though. i think i read for almost 2 hours and the whole time, that tiny voice was all "what about the bathroom? weren't you going to swiffer the kitchen? what about the counters?" i finally gave in later in the evening and got up to clean the bathroom. i had to work in stages and take water breaks and rest between each task because my body was still in full "what is this whole moving around thing NOPE NOPE NOPE" mode, but it got done. then i made a cup of tea and ate the english toffee brownie i'd bought at the farmers market on saturday (note to self: go back and buy more of those brownies) and caught up on a few emails and other things online until i was ready to officially call it a night...after i swiffered the kitchen as my last productive act.

i felt all of the guilt about saying "no" to my previous plans. i'm almost positive that i would've loved the reading, and that i would've made it home without incident, and obviously i was just exaggerating about how tired i was and how unwell i felt and i shouldn't be so lazy. (did i mention that the annoying voice in my head is really fucking annoying? because it is.)

i woke up this morning feeling much improved over yesterday, which was good because i absolutely needed to be functional at work today. it's a short work week for me (o hai breast mri on friday! i couldn't forget about you if i tried!) and i'm on deadline, so being able to focus and get my work done is kind of a bigger deal than usual.

would that have been possible if i'd pushed myself to go out last night? knowing me, i would've found a way to power through today somehow, but i'm pretty sure i would've still felt like shit and not just in a "ugh mondays could you not?" kind of way.

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*

recipe review: muffin-tin quiches with smoked cheddar and potato

i have been about that savory breakfast life for a little bit now, which is kinda hilarious to me because my sweet tooth is still going strong. maybe it's because i'm usually having a mimosa or 5 with brunch and i feel like i need a savory entree to balance out the sugar? yeah, let's go with that. it sounds plausible enough.

this recipe has a few of my favorite things: potatoes, cheese, and spinach. don't be like me and use an entire container of baby spinach in this recipe, though. i made this on friday evening and realized i probably wouldn't finish the rest of the spinach before it went bad, so into the mixing bowl it went. in hindsight, i probably should've added another egg or two to even out the consistency a bit. as it was, i let these bake for, oh, maybe 35 or so minutes instead of the 25 minutes listed in the recipe. i also added a couple cloves of minced garlic (yes, i did go to the store just to buy more garlic after i made that last batch of chili) because, well, i just figured it was an oversight of some sort that this recipe didn't call for any garlic. there's potatoes and spinach and cheese! why would you not add garlic to that deliciousness?

as an aside, i would like to point out that past me packed away a muffin tin and a grater, but not a potato masher. i discovered this when i decided to make mashed potatoes with the potatoes i'd bought for this recipe but didn't use. i just let the potatoes boil for what seemed like forever or until i could mash them with the back of a spoon.

back to the recipe, though - added garlic, dumped in way more spinach than was called for, adjusted the cooking time...oh! i had some cubed smoked gouda (which has been a "not-quite-impulse buy but definitely not on my shopping list" purchase the past couple of trips to jewel) in the fridge, so i added a few cubes along with the grated smoked cheddar. mmmm....cheese...

i did not freeze any of these because i'm having them for breakfast this week. i like them as they are, and i'm sure they'd be better if i hadn't gone overboard with the spinach and messed up the consistency. i also like that they're vegetarian and that this is something that could be made in advance for a brunch or a brinner party. oooh, a brinner party. i would totally go to a brinner party. i don't think i've done brinner yet since i moved in. i should make that happen soon.

recipe review: italian sausage chili

this is one of the recipes that caught my eye while i was organizing my recipe binders a couple of weeks ago. i knew i had italian sausage in the freezer and that there was a carton of chicken broth in the pantry, so it was just a matter of picking up the other ingredients.

me being me, i used 6 cloves of garlic instead of 4. i just happened to have 6 cloves left and decided it was a sign to use them all. some of the cloves were thinly sliced. some were not. if i had it to do again, i'd probably just use my garlic press and mince the garlic that way. i used a package of johnsonville italian sausage, which i think clocks in at around 19 ounces or so. the cannellini beans were low-sodium, as was the chicken broth. no parsley was used. i had a few scallions left from the turkey fried rice i'd made the night before, so i sliced those up and added them with the bell pepper, onion, and garlic. i also added some italian seasoning at the end - maybe a teaspoon or so? i was eyeballing it so who knows what the exact measurement was on that.

i made this on wednesday and didn't actually eat any of it until last night. chili's one of those dishes that tastes better the longer it has time to sit and let all the flavors hang out and become best friends. i put a serving in the freezer and have had 2 bowls of it so far, and i'm pretty sure there's at least 3 servings left in the fridge, so that whole "serves 4" thing may not be the most accurate. i'd make this again, possibly with chicken chorizo from whole foods (usually available at the meat counter - sometimes you have to order it in advance and they'll make it for you) and with minced/pressed garlic. maybe a red/orange/yellow bell pepper instead of green, depending on what's on sale. maybe diced tomatoes instead of plum tomatoes? oh, the possibilities...lol

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.

on: privilege, gratitude, and feeling like a poseur

(originally written around 10:30am today. a couple of things have already changed, so i'll update accordingly within the post using italics.)

i've been mulling over privilege during the past few days or so. i don't have much of it, as a black woman in this current society, but i do have a bit. i've been fighting a cold since last week and i was able to stay home twice - once as an official sick day, and the other by my choosing to work from home - so i could try to get my life together. totally failed at that, as evidenced by the bronchitis diagnosis i received yesterday, but at least i was able to try. i was also able to go to an immediate care clinic near home to get checked out because this coughing is obnoxious and i'm losing at least an hour of sleep a night because of it, which i really can't afford because my sleep pattern is already trash. given that the house of representatives is considering yet another attempt to repeal the aca as i type this (GODDAMMIT, HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES! WHAT THE FUCK?), being able to use my employer-provided insurance and not having to worry about paying hundreds or thousands of dollars out of pocket is a blessing. that same insurance covered all but $12 or so of the medicine i was prescribed for this stupid cough (can you tell i'm beyond over this? ugh).

the whole insurance thing has been on my mind because it's almost been a whole entire year since i had surgery. i know - i can barely believe it myself. it feels like just yesterday when i was having all of the anxiety about the surgery and staying in the hospital overnight (not gonna lie, typing that just now made me shudder, so you know the phobia is real and just typing it again some 11 hours later still creeps me out, btw), but here we are.

i am, of course, incredibly grateful to have access to quality health care, both of the physical and mental varieties, without having to worry too much about how i'm going to pay for it. i'm also thankful for having sick time that allowed me to stay home and recuperate last year after surgery, and that same sick time came in handy this time last week when i realized that yes, i needed to stay home and attempt to rest. who knew i'd end up having 6 nosebleeds on friday, or that i'd lose my voice for 3-4 days, or that i'd come down with a migraine late sunday/early monday after i'd already taken a benadryl for the night and couldn't take a migraine pill and then had all of the migraine-induced nausea, or that this annoying cough would become the bane of my fucking existence? seriously. only i would end up with bronchitis (and a possible sinus infection! woo!) after what appeared to be a regular cold.

i'm also grateful to quasi-landlord, who, after returning home from her louisiana vacation last night, took one look at me and made me a mug of mint tea, even though i'm quite honestly sick of drinking tea and am ready to take a break from hot toddy time. she also brought back pralines and caramels for me, which was awesome because i'd meant to ask her about possible praline souvenirs, but i was too busy having laryngitis and attempting to have a social life because i'd already paid for tickets to things and therefore staying home all weekend was not an option. you should've seen my face last night when quasi-landlord broke out that box of pralines for me. actually, no, you shouldn't have. my cheeks are still kinda blotchy from the migraine-induced nausea, plus my nose is in full rudolph mode, and my hair has basically taken the week off from even pretending to be cooperative when i try to style it. dead sexy, let me tell you.

i'm going to a talk/networking thing at work later this afternoon. i still have a strong aversion to formal networking, mind you, but the talk is being given by one of the highest ranking black women at the firm. i'm still not feeling 100%, but i felt like this was important enough to drag myself into the office. i think that sometimes, it's helpful to see what's possible, even if it's not something i actually want for myself. bonus if #blackgirlmagic is involved somehow. (so glad i sucked it up and went. she said some things that i needed to hear and i swear the universe just knows sometimes.)

i kinda feel like a fraud, though. i was trying to figure out what to wear to work today and even this button-down shirt and these pants scream "trying too hard" to me, despite the fact that it's an outfit i've worn countless times before. i obviously want to be a bit more presentable than usual since i'm going to this shindig, but...i don't know. y'know how sometimes you see folks in full business attire and they just project this sense of "yes, i am a major player in whatever business this is" and you just want to sit in the corner and nurse your drink until it's socially acceptable for you to sneak out without saying anything to anyone? no? just me? dammit.

yes, i know i have lots to offer professionally - i've been working for more than 20 years and i know enough to know that there's so much more that i don't know - but sometimes it still feels as if i have nothing to contribute. not because i don't like my job, because i do actually enjoy what i do most days even if some of the folks i work with drive me up the fucking wall, but because i feel as if i'm not supposed to be (t)here. like i snuck in somehow and at any moment, my cover will be blown and i'll be marched out.

given the thoroughness of the background check that was performed before this job was officially offered to me, there's little to no chance of that actually happening in real life, but it still bugs me. y'all know me. i rarely if ever play myself small. i think i've been referring to myself as queeneulalia or queen of the universe or some permutation thereof since college, so clearly i'm about that "let's dream big!" life.

and yet.

i told myself when i took this job that i would at least try to go to some of these networking events even though i'd much rather be doing hoodrat things with my friends, and if i didn't know or recognize anyone at the event, that i would stay for at least one drink or 15 minutes into the networking part of things. yes, i know the whole point of networking is to make new connections and all that shit, but fuck that. a bitch doesn't really like people like that on most days and i could be at the bar or on my way home or reading a book or eating tacos or whatever instead of sipping questionable red wine and possibly nibbling on cheese and crackers or crudites and making small talk or outwardly feigning interest in whatever's being discussed while trying to figure out how soon i can get back down to my desk to pack up and call it a day. i'm already doing the math in my head - if the networking part starts at 5, i can maybe call it a day at 5:20 at the latest, assuming that i'm able to grab a drink right at 5 or shortly thereafter, and assuming i don't run into anyone i know or feel the need to stay longer. i am also keeping in mind that a coughing fit may strike at any time, despite my meds, and therefore i may have to unfortunately excuse myself when the talk concludes. (i totally left after the talk concluded. i wound up sitting next to another black woman who works on the same floor as i do, so we both agreed that going back to our desks and wrapping things up was the better use of our time. she did introduce me to someone that she knew, though, so i did actually meet one new person. that totally counts. 😀)

yes, i'm serious. yes, i know it's not really that serious in the whole scheme of things but yes, it is that serious to me. don't knock the coping mechanism until you've tried it...and even then, you shouldn't knock it. just because it doesn't suit you doesn't mean that it won't be great for someone else. 💜

on: the lord's prayer

*blows dust off of blog login credentials*

o hai hey hello wassup y'all? 👋

i took a lyft home from the bar tonight, as i do almost every sunday evening. yes, i went to the bar on easter sunday. #sundayfunday is part of my routine and since my therapist said that going out is good for my self-care, i see no reason to deviate from this.

so i'm riding along in my lyft (with a quiet driver, black jesus be praised) and all of a sudden, the lord's prayer pops into my head. not just the "standard" version that you may have been taught at church and/or can still recite from memory. i mean more like this.

i've not sang in a church choir on a regular basis since 1994, and yet i found myself softly humming this version for the rest of my ride home. if you think my falsetto during karaoke is ridiculous, you should've heard me in high school. some of my fellow sopranos and i would grab on to each other or hold hands to help each other reach for those high notes. there was a reunion concert at 1st c. back in late january and during rehearsal, some of us found ourselves falling right back into that same habit of holding on to each other so we could try to hit those seemingly impossible notes.

i wish i could tell you how or why this song came to me. my ride wasn't particular arduous and i don't recall anything else happening along the way that would've necessitated a prayer or otherwise going to church as the case may be. maybe i was just feeling a bit nostalgic since i didn't go to church today. maybe i was thinking about recent events in cleveland and other places and the ongoing fubar-ness that is the current administration and the universe decided this was a song i needed to revisit for the first time in god only knows how long.

may we all feel that our prayers and/or the desires of our hearts be received and understood, even if they do not immediately come to pass. amen.

on: trying not to burnout

a group of us went to dinner last week to celebrate quasi-landlord's birthday. as we got settled, the conversation turned to politics, as i suppose it tends to do during times like these. i asked if we could all agree that we disagree with the current administration and leave it at that, so that we could talk about other things and not get ourselves worked up. that was successful for about 15 minutes, so i asked again. one of quasi-landlord's friends realized that i was quite sincere about this and thankfully steered the conversation to another topic.

the tv in quasi-landlord's room is tuned to msnbc as i write this. at least once a week, i have to remind her that we have a variety of channels to choose from and if something or someone on msnbc is getting her worked up, then she should change the channel. i think this is easier for me to say because it's been months since i've actively watched msnbc for longer than, say, half an hour at a time.

it's not that i don't understand why so many people are so consumed with everything that's going on. i get it. i'm as scared and as angry livid, really as anyone else that stands in opposition to the current administration. i also know that giving into that fear and letting it take over my life is the absolute last thing i need. self-care is a necessity for all of us. i found myself nodding in agreement when this crossed my twitter feed last week because i do a few of these things already. i've also been using this activism checklist as a way to help me hone in on things i can do each week. i can't always get away from my desk to make calls, so i turn some of those scripts into emails for elected officials instead.

we're all being bombarded, and for some of y'all, this may be the first time you've felt this stressed out and hopeless and confused, and that's ok. what i need for all of us to remember is that this shit right here is not the end. we may need to find new and different and creative ways to unplug as needed. hell, we may need to get to the point where we can even identify the fact that we need to take a break. i'm pretty sure that the world won't stop turning if i take some time to read or listen to music or watch tv or hang out with friends without focusing our discussions on politics. (you can always ask me about northwestern men's basketball instead. this is the year, people!) the work will still be there. i promise.

do what you can, when you can, where you can, and hopefully we'll all get through this thing called life one way or another.

recipe review: skillet pork tenderloin with mustard and smoked paprika

you ever come across a recipe that's so simple that you're kinda upset that you didn't come up with it first? after that moment passes, you realize that you have almost all of the ingredients and so you might as well try it out.

that was me this weekend with this recipe. i saw it in a magazine friday night, added pork tenderloin to my shopping list for saturday afternoon, and made it yesterday. i probably could've let the pork brown a little longer, and it probably could've stayed in the oven for a few more minutes, but otherwise i'm happy. i used smoked sweet paprika, which worked because i'm sure the combo of the dijon mustard and hot smoked paprika might've been too much for me.

i'm currently wishing i'd baked some sweet potatoes or made sweet potato fries or something to go along with it, but this is a good problem to have.

on: feeling isolated while surrounded

talked to carol today. there's all kinds of drama going on, some of which i alluded to on twitter, and i can tell it's taking its toll on her. she's been thrust into the role of caregiver again, this time for her father (and our pastor), and she told me how she feels like no one really understands what that's like for her, especially knowing that barring a miracle, there will be no recovery for her father. i understand it to a certain extent, having lost countless loved ones, but i don't even want to pretend to know what it would feel like to potentially lose both your husband and your father in a span of less than 10 years.

carol's like me in a lot of ways, and not just because we were born in december. we're both way too stubborn for our own good sometimes. we know friends and family would do their best to help out if we could articulate what we wanted/needed instead of just saying that we're tired. sometimes we believe that it's just easier to shoulder the weight and do it ourselves and worry about the consequences later. way deep down, we know that this isn't healthy, but we've so conditioned ourselves that this is the way it has to be that it's difficult to break that habit.

at one point during our conversation, carol mentioned that she'd called a family friend of ours to be potential backup in case some of the aforementioned drama gets even uglier. i had to laugh because i was already mentally writing a text to a friend on how i might need them to be ready to show up at a moment's notice due to said drama. then i had to pause because i heard a hint of loneliness in carol's voice and i knew better than to call her on it in that moment.

that's another thing we have in common. we can be surrounded by people we know and love and still feel like we're utterly alone. y'all know that this is something i've battled and am continuing to attempt to work through.

then i started thinking about jordan hankins. i didn't know jordan personally, but i can see the similarities in our stories. being a black woman at northwestern is not easy. i knew a fair number of black athletes while i was there and one of their constant complaints was feeling isolated from the rest of the black community on campus. knowing what i do about current campus conditions, my guess is that not much has changed. let me be clear in that i do not and would not dare to claim to know what jordan was going through. i would submit that it is possible, though, that she felt a sense of isolation even while being surrounded by teammates and friends and family. i hope her spirit is at rest now, and that those who knew her and loved her are able to find some peace.

recipe review: greens, cannellini beans, and andouille sausage pan stew

i tore this recipe out of a magazine recently and knew i could adapt it for new year's day collard greens & black-eyed peas purposes. if you're in chicago, you should be able to find amylu chicken andouille sausage at jewel and/or whole foods - i've seen them at both stores. instead of cannellini beans, i used a can of black-eyed peas that i drained and rinsed. i used 2 teaspoons of dried thyme instead of fresh thyme, used apple cider vinegar instead of balsamic because that's what i had. i wish i could tell you how many collards i wound up with, but i didn't measure them. i also added a bit of salt at the end. oh, and i used 2 large garlic cloves along with 2 teeny tiny cloves of garlic.

obviously, i had to adjust the cooking time since i was using collard greens instead of kale. i'd say they cooked for about 30-40 minutes or so, with me checking for doneness every 10-15 minutes. i didn't reduce the broth by half - more like a quarter or so. if/when i make this again, i'd slice the onions into smaller pieces and maybe ease up on the cider vinegar a bit.

on: light and miracles

a dear friend of quasi-landlord's (and mine, by extension) joined us for christmas dinner. i'd not seen him in months, and we were all looking forward to being together and catching up. in addition to his famous potatoes with chorizo (which i absolutely love even though i can never get them right whenever i try to make them myself), he brought a mexican hot chocolate torte (nom nom nom) and presents for all of us, which was completely unnecessary and yet totally thoughtful. the message of the card he included has stuck with me, so much so that i'm leaving said card on the windowsill near my bed so i can see it easily.

front of card:

"The light of Chanukah
reminds us to have faith
that miracles are on their way."

inside of card:

"Wishing you
a wonderful Chanukah
and every blessing
always."

his handwritten message:

"I know you're not
Jewish. But I 
like the message of 
this card. Even
in our darkest days
light will guide
our way!"

he's not jewish, either.

i was unable to tell him just how much this meant, especially in that particular moment, so i just leaned over and gave him a hug. score one for the universe.


i haven't made any sort of resolutions or intentions for 2017, but i think this is something that i wish for all of us, self included, in the coming year - that we be reminded of the power of miracles and that light will continue to guide our ways.

merry new year, y'all. here's to a fucking outstanding 2017 because holy shit do we deserve it. i love you.😘

recipe review: barbecue fries

[thank you for all of your concern re: my last post. i've been sick (as in physically ill) off and on this week, but i'm slowly and surely approaching something resembling normalcy. my high-risk breast cancer assessment has been moved to late january instead of march, so yay for that. i made some more headway on researching therapists, but the practice i'm most interested in at the moment doesn't currently have any therapists that will accept my insurance, so i will revisit that in a few weeks to see what's what. i love y'all to the moon and back. and now, the aforementioned recipe review.]

quasi-landlord's other tenant had about 4-5 leftover russet potatoes that she gifted to me. normally, i would just make a batch of mashed potatoes and be #fatgirlhappy, but i didn't really want mashed potatoes this time around. (as if we needed further proof that i haven't been myself lately, right?)

i was already digging through my recipe files looking for greens & black-eyed peas inspiration for the new year and came across this recipe for barbecue fries. it's so easy that i can't believe i haven't tried it before. lord only knows what i was waiting on.

i used a 1/2 teaspoon of tabasco sauce and, though listed as optional, added both the paprika and the cumin. there were 2 different bottles of bbq sauce in the fridge, so i used 3 tablespoons of each. quasi-landlord's oven tends to set off the smoke detector at high temps, so i baked the fries at 425° for about 35 minutes, turning them over after 20 minutes or so.

if i make this again, i'd cut the olive oil down to 4 tablespoons and skip oiling the baking sheet. i wanted crispier fries and i think there was too much moisture for them to cook up the way i really wanted them to. i have no idea if there's any sour cream in the fridge and since i was having these as part of my pork chop and leftover green beans dinner, i didn't really care that much about having a dipping sauce. part of me wants to make some scrambled eggs and have these fries on the side. obviously they'd go well with a burger or a steak or some other meaty main dish. ooh, maybe i'll make these again, use fewer potatoes, and throw in some broccoli. that could be delicious.

adulting with/through anxiety: a week in review

sunday. you get belated birthday greetings via text from your niece, her mother, and carol. you do not hear from your brothers, and you know at least one of them will hold forth during christmas dinner about how they never see you and how you're too good to come all the way out there to hang out with them, oblivious to the fact that he's an asshole and you have way better things to do with your time. you cry yourself to sleep because you start thinking about all the things you need to do during the coming week and you're missing james because at least he remembered your birthday every year and you don't ask your family for much - for anything, really - but would it really do your brothers any harm to remember their baby sister's birthday, especially since it's a milestone year? your brother's ex-wife remembered, albeit late, but come on.

monday. thankfully quasi-landlord has reminded you that the house is full because her european folks are staying for a few days. you love them dearly, but you hate the chaos, specifically the clutter and noise, that happens when they're here. all of the clutter and noise and you've been off work for a few days and are thinking about what you need to do to hit the ground running when you return but you can't really think because clutter and noise and noise and clutter and it's making your teeth itch. you're frustrated because you were "supposed" to be back in your own place by now but prospective landlords see that eviction on your record and laugh all the way to the bank with your application fee in hand and who gives a damn if you have a job that's paying you the most you've made in your working life to date and who the hell were you kidding by having ambitions and shit? how dare you dream...not even big, really. medium? it was all a medium-sized dream and you are furious with yourself for falling short on one of your major goals for 2016 but it doesn't matter because this year has been trash anyway so fuck it.

tuesday. back at work. you find out that someone you worked with on a project right before your birthday break tried to throw you under the bus even though they'd blown every deadline you'd set for said project and since they're local, you resist the urge to go find their desk and punch them in the face. you didn't sleep well and you just wanna go home and relax, but quasi-landlord's houseguests are still around and so you make dinner and get into your pajamas in record time and hang out in your room most of the night curled up with your "this is fine" plush dog. you also make an appointment for your first mammogram because it's part of your post-physical homework. you try not to freak out about said mammogram because your self-exams have yielded nothing and your doctor's yearly exams have yielded nothing, but to no avail.

wednesday. bathroom break at 4:30am. you finally start dozing off 15 minutes later, but then your brain decides to have ALL OF THE THOUGHTS EVER and sleep is like "oh, you didn't really wanna hang? kthxbai." you have no idea when you actually go back to sleep, but you wake up in a panic thinking that you've overslept and in reality, your alarm is a minute away from going off. you're not sure how much sleep you actually got and you consider not leaving the house at all and just working from home, but the houseguests are still here and there will be no quiet, only clutter and noise. if you have to leave the house to go to starbucks or somewhere else with wifi so you can work, you may as well go into the office. you are not happy about this. your boss assigns you a new project and you complain and whine about it for 10 minutes, as you do with every new project. your heart's not really in it, though, because who really gives a shit about this project or anything else? you play phone tag with the high-risk breast cancer center people, again based on your post-physical homework. nothing is wrong, but just making that call fills you with blech. you also spend a good hour researching therapists (yup, also part of your homework) that you can't bring yourself to call to confirm insurance acceptance because you've hit the wall. you go to the library after work and not even talking with a former co-worker about how glad she is to be in a new place after the fire in her apartment building boosts your mood, although you are genuinely happy for her because you could feel the stress in her texts to you about the situation. you stop by the bar for a round and it is actually quieter there than home, so you sit for a beer and a shot and finish reading the book in your purse. you make a mental note that this is the first alcohol you've had since sunday night and your doctor would be proud because she wants you to cut back to 1 alcoholic drink every 24 hours, but since that's not in the written post-visit homework you decide you don't really need to follow that one all that strictly. you go home, you warm up some dinner and eat while standing up in the kitchen because the houseguests have taken over the dining room and you just cannot deal with the clutter and noise. but they're leaving the next day so you stay in the kitchen and help clean up even though you didn't actually consume any of the food that was cooked for that dinner but kitchen duty usually helps settle your mind because you're able to zone out, but not this time. a wonder that no dishes were dropped and you didn't injure yourself.

thursday. o hai, crying in the shower. you are feeling 17 kinds of hopeless and nothing is making any sense but you go to work anyway. you make some progress on your new project because this is what is expected of you, even though your boss is out for the day and you really could just look busy and be done with it. quasi-landlord texts you while you're heading home because she wants to go to honey butter, and you agree even though you do not have the energy to carry on a conversation. you also realize that you are having a really shitty week and hey, you should probably text or email a friend because you promised after last year that you would be better about vocalizing when you weren't doing well, but the way your anxiety is set up, you put your phone down because everyone has their own shit and honestly, no one gives a good goddamn about your feelings so you may as well just stfu and deal with it. you are tired of powering through, though. you know something's wrong because this is usually your favorite time of year but there is no joy in your heart.

friday. a teammate suggested mimosas the other day and the two of you convinced your boss that this is a thing that should happen today. day drinking is one of your favorite things, so that, combined with the fact that said mimosas will happen at work, should have you skipping down the halls. it doesn't. you finally make contact with the high-risk breast cancer assessment people and you have an appointment scheduled in march, which makes you laugh because your mammogram is 2 weeks from today and you know in your gut that everything is fine but holy nervousness, batman. you look at your phone again because really, you should text someone, but that voice in your head reminds you that it's pointless and you're worthless and no one gives a shit, and you don't have the energy to deal with it at that moment because you're at work and you need to focus on not falling apart there. you're successful in that quest until you're doing laundry later, when the urge to do something harmful to yourself hits you so quickly and so forcefully that you double over for a second. once you're able to breathe normally, you realize that this is a very bad idea for myriad reasons, not least of which is because quasi-landord does not need to come home and find you passed out (or worse) in the basement. you've been pondering a blog post off and on all week, so you commit to writing this one. that oh-so-lovely voice comes back to tell you that no one is going to read this, but you're ok with that because the shit has to get off of your chest and you're stable enough to know that you are not going to harm yourself because you have some things to look forward to, like the bottle of klinker brick rosé that you forgot you had but you're totally going to drink while watching the bears game tomorrow, and jesusjack, and christmas day itself, and seeing "fences" with quasi-landlord on monday, and you remind yourself to keep trying because you really did promise yourself and everyone else after last year, but holy hell the anxiety has done a number on you this week. you're always cold, no matter how many layers you're wearing, and you're still hungry after meals regardless of how much or how little you actually consume. you are thankful for your stash of chocolate.

update: #alldecembereverything, 2016 edition

i've decided that this is indeed a thing that will happen on 12/17. stop by for a round or 5 and wish me a happy birthday. https://t.co/A68Fd9nHrZ

— lady black (@queeneulalia) December 6, 2016

it is entirely possible that i'll be at @NiseiLounge 2 weeks from tonight accepting as many birthday drinks as i can. you should join me.

— lady black (@queeneulalia) December 4, 2016

original #alldecembereverything post is here as a reference.

happy tuesday! 😀

on: not running away

went to church yesterday. saw one of my nearest and dearest play mamas after service. i hadn't seen her in a while so as soon as i was able, i made a beeline over to her so i could say hi. she teased me about showing my face before the end of the year because i didn't want her hunting me down and moving slowly in the streets with her cane. we talked for a few minutes about everything and nothing, as we do. she'd asked if i was going to be back at church before new year's. i said probably not because, well, i probably won't. then she leaned in, grabbed my face, looked me in the eyes, and said something that i've been pondering ever since.

"don't run away. we need you."

in my gut, i knew that she wasn't just referring to my church attendance. it shook me, because no one there knows about what i went through last october, or anything else for that matter, unless they've somehow found this page and/or my twitter feed.

i had to take a second to recover, and then i said that i wasn't going anywhere. i might not be physically present at church, but i wasn't running away. i wasn't going anywhere.

y'know how sometimes you say something out loud and you can practically feel that shit all the way down to your toes? like what you've said is actually taking root somehow? that's kinda how i felt.

maybe i'm susceptible because my birthday's coming up. maybe it's related to my post-election feelings. maybe it's the part of adulting i've really been trying to be better about - the part where i try to show up and be present and embrace the path i'm on.

"i'm not running away. i'm not going anywhere." a friend and i have had ongoing conversations where i remind them that i'm always around for them no matter what, but this felt, and still feels, like a public declaration of sorts. i think i can be ok with this. sometimes we all need reminders that we're needed and that we shouldn't run away. here's hoping the universe sends you the reminder you need and the strength to keep going. amen.

#alldecembereverything, 2016 edition

i will be 40 years old on december 17. this year has been such a clusterfuck that i still don't really know what i'm doing on my actual birthday. if you've known me for a while, you know that this is so not how i tend to roll. usually by this time, i've already sent save-the-date emails, if not actual invites, for various things throughout the month of december, but i don't have my shit all the way together this year. part of it is because i was waiting to see if i'd be moving before my birthday (which, as of this writing, does not look likely, but never say never). another part of me was toying with the idea of throwing some ginormous soiree befitting the milestone occasion, but, y'know, adulting is hard and did i mention that 2016 has been on some bullshit? my energy levels are too low for that right now.

side note - a friend asked me what i wanted for my birthday and i drew a goddamn blank. i am not one of those super altruistic "oh i have so much already you don't need to get me anything" people, but it's been a few days since that question was posed and i still can't point to anything specific that i absolutely would love to have. y'all know me. i like chocolate, and books, and tacos, and shoes, and alcohol, and bacon, and earrings, and music, and food, and monkeys, and handbags, and pandas, and art, and really long sentences. 😏 that said, gift cards for amazon, target, binny's, dsw, starbucks, or other places you think i'd dig are always acceptable. buy a bottle of booze and stick a bow on it if you want. hell, make a card and stick a bow on it. or a pretty shiny ribbon. or a bow and some ribbon. or just buy me a drink or 3 if you see me out and about between now and martin luther king day.

at any rate, here's my current list of celebratory opportunities for december. events that i will definitely be attending will be underlined. things that i'm on the fence about will be in italics. i will update the list as warranted.

saturday, december 3 - brooke and the nice things at untitled. no cover. untitled does have a dress code, though, so check their site for details.

wednesday, december 7 - bourbon women chicago's sip and shop at binny's in lincoln park. tickets are still available as of this writing.

monday, december 12 - christmas movie night at untitled. double feature of "it's a wonderful life" and "a christmas story." free admission.

tuesday, december 13 - chef's table at jerry's in lincoln square, hosted by the local tourist. tickets still available as of this writing. 

sometime in mid-december - alternative christmas double feature: mistletoe mayhem at music box. "die hard" and "gremlins." i don't know which date i'm aiming for yet, so if/when i decide, i'll update here accordingly.

saturday, december 17 - holy fucking shit it's my birthday! as i mentioned, no concrete plans as of yet, but i'm sure i will end up somewhere watching some sort of sportsball and drinking some sort of alcohol. will update when i know more.

sunday, december 18 - holy fucking shit it's the day after my birthday! #sundayfunday activities will depend on how hungover or unsober i am from the night before, but it's safe to assume that more sportsball and alcohol will be involved.

saturday, december 24 - no discussions yet, but i'm pretty sure jesusjack will be happening again this year. come to the casino (exact details tbd) and play blackjack and sing happy birthday to jesus at midnight. no, i am not making this up. yes, this is an actual thing that happens.

recipe review: creamy lemon orzo with peas and shrimp

i did not actively seek out this recipe. i was reading the latest issue of cooking light and wala magic, here was something that would use up the remainder of the orzo i had on hand. i had no major objections to any of the ingredients, so i decided to try it out for dinner last night.

i used dried thyme instead of fresh - about one and a half teaspoons. i only used 5 garlic cloves because a couple of them were on the large side. i bought a pound of cooked 26-30 count frozen shrimp that were peeled and deveined, but still had the tails on, so off with the tails and under a bit of cold running water they went. since they were cooked, i added them at the very end with the lemon juice and cream cheese and pepper. oh, and i added a bit of shredded parmesan cheese at the end because cheese is delicious.

remember in my last post how i was feeling all kinds of blah? i bought a tiny bottle of wine so i'd have the 1/3 cup called for in this recipe because i was not committing to opening one of my "good" bottles of wine. once i measured out the 1/3 cup of wine, did i drink the rest? no. did i save it for later? no. i poured it down the drain. i voluntarily poured out (admittedly not the best quality) wine. yeah, i don't know who i am anymore, either.

anyway - i also adjusted the amount of broth because i had a little less than a cup of orzo left. i also let this simmer longer than the 15 minutes called for. i will say that this was a bit less labor-intensive than traditional risotto. i love risotto, but i do not have the patience to make it as much as i'd like. same with lasagna. i am more than happy to outsource that, so to speak, and order it from a restaurant.

i don't know if i'd make this again. i had leftovers of it for lunch today and i think the flavors got to hang out a little bit more, but something was missing. i wonder how boneless skinless chicken thighs would work in addition to or instead of the shrimp (with adjustments to the cooking time, obviously).