the quiche.

First, as a lover of words, quiche is so soft and sexy. Second, as a lover of love, I had to carve a heart with the extra dough and place it on top. Cheesy, I know.

So here’s what we did: sliced up a chicken sausage (Italian spiced) from TJ’s, sautéed it in a bit of olive oil. Then we added mushrooms, crushed garlic, and spinach along with some salt and pepper. We used a frozen pie crust from TJ’s and lined the inside with cheese. We whisked four eggs, added a bit of soy milk and agave sweetener, added the chicken sausage/mushroom mixture to the pie crust, and then poured in the egg mixture. Once I placed my doughy heart in the center, Mark sprinkled the top with some cayenne pepper and some turmeric, “for good measure”.

The oven was preheated to 450°. We popped in the love quiche and waited, while sipping

red wine mixed with grapefruit juice.

Once the edges started to look brownish and delicious, we lowered the heat to about 375° to allow the center to cook more slowly and evenly. And some time later, a deliciously lovely quiche was born! (I apologize for not being great at timing things, I usually just wait until I “feel” something is done.)

Please enjoy with love.

The Lady Who Stores Stories in Her Hair tells the best stories you could imagine. The stories in her hair are always drifting up, up towards the sun. She reaches two bony hands into the flowing hairweb, she pulls out a delicious looking book, she opens the pages and you devour it. Lick your fingers clean of words. Thank her. Beg for another, another, another. You ask how she has so many and she tells you they are like rabbits, bacteria, multiplying themselves.

While I don’t want to spoil the plot or outcome, I will give you the premise and a few issues the book touches on. An unnamed female artist, age 21, receives a lofty grant to produce art in a room for a year. The strings? She cannot leave the room, and cameras (without sound) will be streaming her live on her website continuously. In the center of the room there’s a cube for privacy (with a “soft place”, a computer, a sink, a tub, a toilet and many mirrors), and the artist can order whatever her whim decides on the grant people’s dollar. The only physical interaction she has is with robots, whom she orders to perform services such as manicures, hair cuts, etc. I don’t want to delve too deeply into that here, but there were some great moments during these scenes where the artist is desperate for interaction and the robots — who are remotely controlled by real humans in a poverty-stricken country — remain mostly cold and perfunctory.

The book is separated by each month, and the narration is rambling, hypnotic and haunting. I will admit that first I didn’t care for the voice, but it grew on me until I began to care for it, and like it. I can also tell now, since I just put my nook to rest, that the prose style is sneaking into my head, which I personally really like after reading a book. Why read a book if you don’t want it stay with you?

But let’s get back to A New You. The main character takes readers through her vulnerability, her insecurities, her strengths, and her quest to find herself with so many eyes upon her. As the months roll by, the artist begins to treat herself harshly, spending more time in an attempt to achieve “perfection” of the body than creating art on the walls around her. Make-up, plastic surgery and clothing are examined from different perspectives. The artist’s emotions are not easily hid, and the simplest gesture can make her extremely giddy or cause intense self-loathing.

And now, since my heart of hearts SO loves discussing books, I will post some discussion questions. Please feel free to respond to them here, even if you have not read the book. Those that have read the book are especially welcomed to discuss!

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS:

1. Do most artists create for themselves or for others?

2. Do you think isolation would make you more or less free to create? Would your answer change if your art and your process were under constant surveillance?

3. Is the instant gratification that comes with the ease of online ordering/home shipping harmful?

4. How will the next generation — who will grow up in front of computer screens, cell phones, iPads and other rapidly advancing technology — deal with constant connection? Will the future generation ever be alone, or feel confident and free in their solitude?

5. Do you know someone that wants to listen to music, surf the web, chat with people and play a video game all at once? What is that sort of multitasking accomplishing?

6. Has society’s image of beauty affected you or a friend? If so, how?

For the chole, I crushed garlic, sliced some onion, threw in the chick peas, black beans and a diced tomato and let it

simmer

(of course adding necessary spices such as cumin and turmeric).

‘Twas a hit! It also made delish leftovers for me the next day. And the sliced eggplant went on Mark’s sandwich with cheese and greens. Yummo!

and hark!, let the glorious smells drift and mingle!

And M wanders out of the studio and into the kitchen. He sniffs the air and then comes to sniff my hair. I add the chicken, already cut into small, taco-friendly pieces. I add some black pepper and a little more cayenne (I love spice!), and when the chicken is almost done, I add the oh-so-colorful yellow bell pepper slices. M threw the whole wheat tortillas in the oven. And Voila! Topped with your choice of spices, these tacos are fast, fresh and spicy/sweet.

After a quick inventory, we have: rice, eggs, hot dogs, broccoli, soy sauce and garlic. (We will never be without garlic.) We brainstorm a few dishes — eggs over easy with a side of hot dog; scrambled eggs with hot dog, broccoli and garlic — none of these sounded too appetizing. And then we think,

aha! fried rice!

We started the rice first, since it takes longer to cook. Added a little olive oil and salt to rice once it was boiling. In a larger pot, we started to fry the hot dog with the top covered. Then we added soy sauce, garlic and broccoli and let it simmer.

Since I love spices, we also added cumin and cayenne to the hot dog mixture. When the rice was almost done, we added three eggs to the big pot.

We turned up the heat to fry the egg, and then added the rice. We wanted a little more flavor/heat, so we added more soy sauce and one of M’s hot chili pastes.

And yes, that’s a Jack and Coke you see in the corner of the last picture.

*Please bear with my pictures; I’m trying to get better and work with the camera I have!

HARPER: It’s terrible. Mormons are not supposed to be addicted to anything. I’m a Mormon.

PRIOR: I’m a homosexual.

HARPER: Oh! In my church we don’t believe in homosexuals.

PRIOR: In my church we don’t believe in Mormons.

[from Tony Kushner's Angels in America, Part One, Act One, Scene 7]

I admit it’s been quite a while since I’ve read a play. Probably a decade, to be honest, which really makes me feel a) depressed and b) old. Since I’m an LA dweller now, I figure it’s time to start reading some theater. I picked up Tony Kushner’s Angels in America at my local library (retro, I know!) and went to town.

It didn’t take long before I was crying, laughing, cheering, growling. There is so much passion and creativity on every page. Lately I’ve been fascinated with dialogue, which is another reason I wanted a play. This little gem exceeded my expectations. It’s in two parts, but some places sell it all together in one bundle. Make sure you have part one and two!

This play, for me, was much more poignant and enjoyable than The Glass Menagerie or Death of a Salesman (although it’s been years since I’ve read them).

What it has: crazy people, affairs, sickness, death, religion and lack thereof, Mormons, imaginary friends, angels, AIDS, politics, homo- and heterosexuals, courage, wit, redemption.

No, I say, there were
actual fireworks, but
I love you also,
like light exploding.

→A quickie for your Independence Day.

I’ve been bouncing around some other options in my brain for more lucrative ventures. Living with an engineer is starting to rub off on me I guess, or maybe it’s that he customizes his code in such cool colors that I think, Hey, I can do that. It looks interesting, stimulating and intellectual; let’s give it a try! Ohh, purple keywords, I liiiiike! Are keywords even a thing in codespeak? Who knows. Not I.

This sort of “code crush” coincided with a family member asking me if I could make a website. I’m rocking WordPress, yes, but can I make a website? Can I make it from scratch? Can I figure out how to extract data from an Excel file on the web or even figure out how to link my domain name to my hosting service? Can I? Of course I can! So, as I’m scrunching my face and googling “how to blahblahblah” (and wondering what the hell I should even start with), I say to my smartypants engineer boyfriend, “Um, I don’t even know where to start? I don’t know what to google…”

And he of infinite answers says, “Try AcademicEarth.org. They may have free lectures on web design.” And lo and behold: free lectures on building dynamic websites, from a Harvard professor no less. So it gets real.

After watching one lecture (just under two hours in length), I know much more about the web than I really ever did. But I still can’t make a website. I don’t know that I’ve ever been patient in learning a craft, but I’m fairly certain patience will become my best friend if this website-designing thing is really going to pan out. I realize that I’m lucky to have the time to watch such long, involved lectures, and I also realize that you don’t learn anything unless you really want to. The hardest part will be to stop daydreaming of being a website developer, and to start biting away at all the things I need to learn.

Step one: Find out what these elusive acronym-like names mean. PHP, XML, SQL, Ajax. Brain freeze!

Step two: Eat the elephant.

Okay, universe. I put it out there. Now I must hold myself to it.

So, just three hours after the yoga class, the store has already decided to pursue other candidates. Sort of insulting, considering during the interview they mentioned having two full time and one part time position open. As I closed the email, I remember what a lump-in-the-throat felt like. I know I’m emotional because of my period, but that little girl inside me is feeling so small. In an effort to not fray like an old sweater, I go to the kitchen, roll up my sleeves and begin washing the massive amount of dirty dishes.

Jessica A says: You can’t even get a job in retail. Retail’s where you have the most experience, and you can’t even land one of three available jobs in a dumb retail store. They don’t even want you to fold clothes, chat with customers. They would rather pursue other options. Other people are more pursued than you.

Jessica B says: It’s only retail. You want something you can pour your heart into, something that you love doing. You’ve done retail. It’s a job. You want a career. You can have a career! This is a new city, a new state, a new start. Be what you want. Do what you want.

Jessica A: What are you going to do? Rent is in due in four days. And look at you, getting excited about not being completely broke. You thought for a second you’d have some dollars to put away, you’d watch your savings account rise, and if you wanted a new shirt, you’d buy it, no problem. You thought you’d have coworkers to talk to, someone to suppress your growing need for an imaginary friend. Lousy. You’re lousy.

Jessica B: Hug yourself. Keep your chin up. Do the dishes. Be a goddamn grownup. You’re the one that wanted to be an English major. You liked it, right? Well, keep trying, you’ll get a job. You’ll get a career you’re over the moon about. Keep flowing your good energy out, out, and it will come back to you, shining like a new coin.

Jessica A: What’s next, food service? People gotta eat. Someone’s gotta give it to them.