I am NOT my hair

For a variety of reasons, I cut my hair super-short a few months back. A "pixie" was the hip term my hairdresser used. (And perhaps I've already given myself away. "Hairdresser"? does anyone use that term anymore? Or do "real" women visit "stylists" at "salons"?)

Now, when I had gone from long to medium length hair last year via the same professional, the reviews were stellar. I got so many compliments, I glowed with general good feeling. This time, however, the reviews were much less hearty. and I was okay with that. i mean, it's just hair. I might have freaked out when anything interfered with the long, long locks of my teens, but the time of crying over less than perfect hair has past. I want to look good as much as the next girl, but my entire self-worth is not coif-based. or at least I didn't think it was!

Growing in short hair is tough, especially thanks to others. I was arguably getting a little shaggy, but was reluctant to clean it up. The length was *just* finally getting to a point where it didn't stick straight up, Alfalfa-style, despite my best efforts. But after receiving not so subtle hints like a headshake with a frown and the (sincere) suggestion of a wig by "well-meaning" acquaintances (and I use the term extremely loosely), I relented and paid $60 to bring things back in line.

Once again, I was pleased with the results in the relation to their nature (i.e. if she could have cut hair back *onto* my head I would have been much happier but, seeing as she couldn't, I think she did a fine job). Until a cashier greeted me this morning as "sir". really? I mean, really?!? Nothing about my voice, statue, attire or anything else gave away to you that I am, in fact, a woman?

So let me make sure I have this right. Abundant locks=woman. Short hair=man. well that's just lovely. thank you for pigeon-holing me with your quaint little labels. now please excuse me, sportscenter is on.

Troubles coming and going

Every year my sister and I take a trip to Kripalu. And every year we get lost. It's always within the last 5-10 miles of the trip, so we're generally overly-optimistic about our directional skills.

"oh, we've got it this year!"
"I don't know how we could ever get lost?!"
"We'll be there any minute..."

This year, we took it a step further with an elaborate game that eventually became painfully ironic.

"see that greenhouse! let's remember that for next year so we know we're going the right way"
"oh, the shaker museum. we'll remember that as a signpost"

Unfortunately, 30 minutes later we realized it was the wrong way, and so began the re-citing of all the landmarks...in reverse.

"haha, there's the greenhouse. *now* remember that means the wrong way"

The jokes got a little less bubbly as "5 miles away" became an hour with no lodge in site. But, we persevered (and tried every possible road) and eventually, the distant lights on the hill announced our arrival at the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health.


To add insult to injury, Kripalu isn't exactly forthcoming about their location. Please note that they possess the absolute smallest entrance sign ever.


I had to stand on top of it before I could read it.


We had a great weekend with lots of relaxing, reading, yoga and yummy food. As we prepared to say farewell to the former monastery for yet another year, we began the ritual of getting at least one good picture of us together to remember the trip. This process can become nearly as arduous as finding Kripalu!

We tried from the nightstand (woops, mostly bon, 1/2 of me)


Overhead (made Bon look sleepy...or drugged)


and my personal favorite, our "Glamour Shot", (which made me laugh so hard I nearly peed)


before finally getting both of us, smiling, fully in a shot.


Can hardly wait for next year!

Can't we all just get along?

God Against the Gods : The History of the War Between Monotheism and Polytheism by Jonathan Kirsch

Words I *thought* I knew the meaning of:

Pagan - a village-dweller, i.e. a "civilian". one not willing to be a "soldier" in the service of the one true god.

Athiest - first used by the pagans to describe Christians because the latter did not recognize the pantheon of gods.

Heresy - derived from Greek for "choice" (integral to polytheism)

Traitor - from Latin for "one who hands over", specifically those that handed over Christian writings and artifacts to Roman soldiers.

Catholic - "universal"

Orthodox - "correct belief"

This is how history should be told! I actually read the last few chapters in eager anticipation, as if reading the climax of a juicy novel. At one point I had to laugh...we *know* how it turns out and paganism *didn't* win. but boy was I rooting for them!

I likely found this book more fascinating than, say, someone fully steeped in the Bible and committed to Christianity would because, let's face it, he doesn't make the Christians look so hot. At least when it came to religion, paganism was all about tolerance, and that's the way it had been since time began. It seems odd to think about Christianity as it must have been then, something unheard of, strange and downright opposite of all that religion had ever been.

Of course, history is written by the victor, which Christianity ultimately was. Its state-(read: power) driven propaganda machine was so effective that the word "pagan" likely conjures up *much* more and viler things than "civilian" in the average person's mind, and that's unfortunate.

I found this book so compelling that I'm considering keeping (rather than swapping) it. that is the highest of praise in my world, to join harry and frodo on the shelf.

FInding Religion

Mary Called Magdalene by Margaret George

I opened this book knowing nothing, either historical or proposed, about Mary Magdalene. I tried to keep it that way (avoiding wikipedia as much as possible) until I finished. I favor historical fiction and, generally, I like to get the complete story the author is trying to tell before determining what was "historical" and what was "fiction".

My overall feeling while reading the novel was that the author was glossing. Despite being 600+ pages long, I never truly felt connected to the characters or the message of the book. After learning that the early and personal details of Mary's life are pretty much unknown, I feel like that is the likely explanation.

Once Jesus officially enters the picture (and cures Mary of her demons), my confusion deepens. With little biblical knowledge besides a few memorized passages (sorry mom), it was like the message and life of Jesus were being presented to me for the first time. and I didn't get it. besides all the miraculous healing, I wasn't feeling that he was saying anything so profound to the disciples that they should abandon their lives and join him.

The author's handling of the story post-crucifixion made sense to me. she makes it seem very reasonable that, because Jesus' comments were subtle, each of the disciples "heard" him differently. time passed. and then they finally realized (1) he wasn't returning immediately and (2) lots of people wanted to know what he said, etc. and so they better start writing it all down or run themselves ragged trying to get the word to everyone interested. different writings were transmitted with differing success levels ultimately shaping Christianity.

Ultimately, this is probably my least favorite read by this author. but still, well-written enough to make me want to pick up the Bible and learn more.

Brains

A Brief Tour of Human Consciousness : From Imposter Poodles to Purple Numbers. by V.S. Ramachandran

This book held me captivated for 4 hours straight, start to finish. Despite discussing some pretty complex stuff that goes on (or potentially goes on) in our brain, V.S.R. is so darn logical and precise, you can't help but "get it".

Some of the things that made me stop, reread and contemplate were:

His (possible) explanation for laughter originating to serve as a "false alarm" signal, i.e. communicating to those around you that some potential danger being detected is nothing to worry about. Essentially, pain is experienced in two phases - the raw sensory data and then our emotional reaction to it. if you get the raw sensory data (see/hear/feel/taste something that makes you uncomfortable) but it's not followed up with an emotional response, the sound of laughter may have started as a means of communicating that.

You can "unconsciously" drive while having an animated conversation, but you can't unconsciously have an animated conversation while you're driving. how does language relate to consciousness?

Your right and left brain deal differently with discrepancies in incoming data. The left hemisphere smooths over conflicting info (denial), while the right side recognizes and is very sensitive to it. (Patients with right brain damage resulting in paralysis of their left side will deny that paralysis). Makes me wonder if I should view all things I'm skeptical of on my right side, forcing my left brain to smooth over anything I don't want to see:)

The role of mirror neurons in the transmission of human culture and the social awkwardness of autistic children.

How art taps into our neural perception functioning in ways that don't obviously make sense to us.

The chapter on synesthesia is, I think, why the book originally made it on my "to read" list. That many people can see numbers as colors and so on is fascinating in itself. But the implications of that for our abstraction and metaphoric abilities is amazing! Basically, he's proposing that it's due to cross-wiring in the brain, the same sort of thing that accounts for phantom limbs in amputees.

That chapter ends with his thoughts on the evolution of language, which I think will pose some lively discussion between J and me. He (J) is a big Steven Pinker fan, who believes that language evolved step by step for communication purposes. Whereas V.S.R. is proposing that a few things were going on in the brain for different regions that ended up reinforcing one another with the result of spoken language. I'm not going to even try and go further than that.

The coolest parts of the final chapter are when (1) in discussing the "self" (which has numerous components, each of which can be viewed separately in the actions of patients with damage to various parts of the brain) he hints that the Hindu philosophical view of no difference between the self and others may parallel some of the findings of neuroscience and (2) the research that shows your intention to move your finger is preceded by seconds with a firing in your brain and the implications of that on "free will".

While being around 150 pages long, including *lots* of endnotes, this book is densely packed with radical yet simple and logical food for thought.

A Very Un-Vegan Book Review

Twinkie, Deconstructed: My Journey to Discover How the Ingredients Found in Processed Foods Are Grown, Mined (Yes, Mined), and Manipulated Into What America Eats

Michael Pollen, this guy is not! He spends an awful lot of time describing the containers and plant layouts of the places he visits. I guess he's trying to paint me a picture, but I'm less than interested in "Rooftop pipes, insulated and jacketed with sheet metal..."

It's interesting (and telling) to me how often this guy writes something off as a process or source about which he couldn't find info. My first reaction was, jeez man, if you couldn't research the book, you shouldn't have written it. But as I thought about it, it makes total sense. So much of what he's looking into concerns huge, multi-national chemical companies and highly manufactured ingredients. lots of industry secrets to hide.

I feel like i got more "random" knowledge from this book than anything. Like "can"ola oil comes from Canada and vanilla beans are really the seeds of a rare(ish) tropical orchid.

I found his closing anticlimactic, oversimplified and much too forgiving. Basically, you can break most anything down into it's chemical components (like an apple), so "foods" built of chemicals are really no different. "Food" is defined by the eat-er and so the overabundance of processed crap in our society these days really isn't a bad thing. I wholeheartedly disagree, Mr. Ettlinger.

Throw a vegan a fry

Two conflicting culinary drives live within me. I love to try new restaurants, get a different view, soak up their unique ambiance. But, being vegan, the suggestion to do so is most often met with "we can't eat anything there." Far from a crabby-pants, J is just realistic. My counter-argument is usually, "well, if nothing else we can get fries." Considering we have both confirmed that life on a desert island with just fries would be okay, this is a somewhat compelling argument. Last night that argument painfully crashed and burned at the illustrious South Philly Tap Room.

I am perpetually begging J to accompany me to the SPTR, which is a bit of a hike for us. The two times I've been there, their on-tap beer selection has been amazing. When the age-old argument reared it's ugly head, this time I was ready. I called to mind an article concerning their acquisition of a new chef that is very vegan friendly. I swear there was such an article. I was wrong.

Even the things on their menu that appeared vegan were apparently not. Hummus platter? "The pita has egg in it" (since when does pita have egg!? it's a flatbread, for goodness sake!) Veggie burger with no cheese? "The bread has a butter coating" and so on. Fine, whatever, we're used to limited selection, and the beer was quite good. "We'll just have an order of fries." Here's where the wind was forcibly knocked out of me.

Fries come for an additional $2 with the order of any sandwich. so the only way we could get them would be to buy a (non-vegan) sandwich (or at least pay for one - all about $10) and then pay the $2 for fries. What!?! I can handle "gastro-pub"s with random unnecessary meat, ridiculously fancy entree names, and less than ideal veg/vegan selections, but this is too much! not even allowing us a plate of fries. I was ready to sacrifice the good beer and walk.

J, ever the picture of calm (despite being hungry enough to eat a seitan horse), suggested we finish our beers (which *were* outstanding, by the way) and catch a cab to our oh-so-vegan-friendly standard dinner destination. But before we could, our waitress came to say that the chef would like to prepare us a former menu item, tofu stir-fry. We agreed but rolled our eyes a little after she left, with visions of soggy bland tofu and sad looking greasy vegetables in our head.

Boy were we wrong! This was hands down the best stir-fry I've ever had and puts many vegetarian restaurants in the city to shame. The tofu was well-fried, firm and tasty. The veggies included crispy bok choy and (swoon) brussels sprouts. The flavor was deep and intense, nothing bland about it. A-mazing. (I think there may be a fight for the substantial left-overs.)

So in the end, i was glad we went. The beers (Slyfox Saison, Dock Street Champagne Wit and Blue Harbor Blueberry) were awesome, the waitress was uber-helpful and friendly and (just maybe) we helped encourage this particular chef to rethink returning the tofu stir-fry to the menu. oh, and you're damn right we got a "side" of fries with that stir-fry!

cyber-cooking

so mdm and I are foodies of the most obsessive sort. what better way to spend time together than cooking? unfortunately, 7 months ago, I moved about an hour's drive away from her. I know, I'm a jerk.

enter the interwebs! with the help of Gtalk, we can chat and cook nearly simultaneously, without the risk of dropping the phone in the pot. so far, we've had two cyber-cooking dates (we're busy!) but hopefully there will be more to follow. on "date" 1, waaay back last year, we made a borsht of sorts, which I must admit I still have one lonely helping of in my freezer. I realized too late that my camera batteries were dead for that one, but I was prepared this time around! well, I was prepared with the camera, at least. here was the state of my kitchen as I logged on to "meet" mdm.

in case you can't tell, that is every available counter space, most of the stove and the dish rack overflowing with dishes, pots, plates, etc. I spent much of our prep time intermittently doing dishes, which worked out nicely as mdm was making a double batch. thankfully, the pantry shelves were not nearly so disheveled and provided a nice space for the laptop (and my gingerbrew - too much drink the night before so I opted out on the wine portion of the "date").

speaking of disheveled...
back to the food, here was the recipe of the night http://urbanvegan.blogspot.com/2008/03/cashew-curry-casserole.html from pretty much my favorite blog (by a fellow Philadelphian).

ingredients...

check.

I could tell instantly, from the consistency of the sauce, that I was going to love this dish. Despite being a firmly committed vegan, I am quick to admit that my palate has a predilection for the creamy and so I am forever seeking ways to create that texture sans animal. I'm generally pleased with a nutritional yeast cheesiness, but the cashew butter blows that out of the water! I also liked that this was a curry that did not rely on coconut milk. not that I don't love me some coconut milk, but I'm perpetually displeased when we make curry at home with it. It always comes out runny, not creamy like take-out (oh, Tamarind, how I love thee).

It was as easy as pour...


stir...


and bake!


I moved the laptop to the (now clean) counter and pulled up a seat to converse with mdm as we baked.

We ran into some issues with our brown rice, in that mine cooked faster than expected while hers took longer. that, combined with the added time for her double batch meant that I was drooling looking at my completed dish while she still had a good bit of time left to cook. so we skipped the eating together portion of the "date":(

as you may have guessed, I *loved* the final product. my only suggestion for next time would be to maybe pre-cook the broccoli a little bit OR make the sauce a little runnier (blech) to provide more liquid to cook the broccoli. It was cooked, but still pretty firm. oh, and I put in the full 2 tsp. of red curry paste, but it was nowhere near hot enough for us spice-addicts. I'll do at least an additional tsp next time. don't get me wrong though, I'd eat another batch of this stuff as is (was)!