I used to be strictly a metalhead. All about pounding drums and searing guitars. I remember when Saladbar in 10th grade gushed about the cure and I mocked her for it (admittedly we’d disliked each other since, uh, 6th grade or so). Or when Eden first played Kraftwerk for me and I was practically physically ill and demanded he remove that sound from the fucking air. I think I did the same thing with My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult, although we were on our way to the Kitchen Club (back in Teh Day) with Nelly and this was during my deepest darkest depression and anxiety attacks, when I’d quit smoking and my friendship with ‘mo ended. I’d quit smoking a while by then, but was still getting horrible anxiety attacks and acid reflux. This was when prilosec was still prescription before they made a low-dose OTC and I was taking that and it was just Not Helping Very Much. Anyway, my point is, MLWTKK came on the radio (how I’ll never fucking know, a pirate station, I imagine, cos who the fuck would play that on broadcast radio is beyond me. Kudos if it was, their shit must fucking spark together when they walk down the street.) and it was just grating, annoying nonsense. I couldn’t even recognize it as music. I don’t know if that makes any sense. It’s like when you’re looking at a picture or something and you can’t see what it is of, but you can see that it has a shape, it’s just…you can’t make the connection. It took Bert and Lis playing Orbital’s “The Box” for me in the car, smoked up and on the way to Subrageous or Taco Bell or something. God, has it really been 10 years? The creaking door sound when it turns dark ambient is still fucking awesome.
So here’s to music I’ve hated but now insist that is fucking JAWSOME
This is the vegan version; the non-vegan version replaces the coconut milk with heavy cream.
You will need:
4 potatoes, diced 4 carrots, diced 6 onions, really fucking diced 4-6 garlic cloves, minced 1 lb bag of frozen peas 1 lb bag of frozen cauliflower 1 red pepper, diced 1 green pepper, diced 3 jalapenos, diced (optional: seeded) 1 tblsp salt 1/4 cup curry powder 1 tblspoon garam marsala 1/4 cup vegetable oil (avoid olive oil if you can help it) ginger, minced into paste about 1 tblsp. tomato sauce, 15-oz can coconut milk, 15-oz can
Put the oil into pan, add medium heat; put onions into oil until tender (soft but not translucent) then add garlic and ginger. add salt, stir and wait 3 minutes for them to blend a bit. Dump in all the other veggies, tomato sauce, curry powder and garam marsala, stir. If it feels like there’s too little liquid in there, relax — the onion will sweat quite a bit out and the tomato sauce will help things get going. When you put in the coconut milk (at the end) you’ll get more liquid as well. Put your cauliflower and peas in the microwave and cook ‘em up. when they’re done, incorporate into the mixture and add coconut milk by 1/4 can until you get an orange-y yellow color. When the potato and carrots are fork-tender, you’re done. serve over rice and/or w/ naan. The coconut milk makes it a bit sweeter than you would perhaps expect, so take that into account when deciding how spicy you want it.
I cooked this for 24 (modified to: 10 potator, 6 carrots, 10 onions, 2 cans tomato, 1 whole can coconut, 24 cloves garlic, 1/2 c curry & oil and double the peppers) for a charity luncheon at work; looks like we cleared enough to get 3 or 4 kids’ cleft palates fixed for Christmas. Also, I burned my hand.
i posted on facebook about the skullstick and mama sunflower asked for it and picked it up within two hours. sun was less than happy about this, afterwards — “thanks for giving a cursed thing to my mom dave”
i have resurrected a mac (well the drive anyway, the mac itself is fucked but i might make it workable if i can find a mobo for it (unlikely!) and then a new drive.
today i did not go to the book fair, but on the other hand i did get the joy of fixing a flat (two punctures!) and fixing-ish a kitchen faucet that would not turn off.i now know more about faucets than i used to.
i have a lack-of-caffeine headache.
i had a 2 hours on-and-off IM conversation w/ baid about her cervix, her pussy in general (and i’m not talking titilating convo here, i’m talking “perhaps you mistook me for a gyno”) and her menstrual accessory preferrence (cups, surprisingly, not plugs or pads.)
cleaned house. this is actually my favorite thing i have accomplished this week. the disarray was really getting to me. the living room is semi-sane now and the florida is getting there.
got into an argument w/ a classmate last tues and as of today it is resolved. which is good; i tend to brood and i’m glad i don’t need to anymore.
Picked up “Monk Alone”: 2.5 hours of Thelonious Monk on the piano alone. It’s a little bit like going mad in heaven. He does some standards and things you wouldn’t expect (“everything happens to me”, “just a gigolo”) in his inimitable style. I really try to play guitar like he plays piano but god it’s like planning to fall down the stairs: you can’t do it naturally without fucking up. The odd accents, the pauses and embellishments.
“Between The Devil and The Deep Blue Sea” and the four (!) versions of “everything happens to me” are just too. fucking. hardcore.
so eden calls me up. “your favorite person is back in miami.” “would you be friends again…it was a long time ago, he’s a different person, blahblhablhablhablah”
i don’t care anymore. i mean, it would be cool if i could trust people again. it would be nice to be able to make friends without pulling fucking teeth. but nothing’s going to undo that, so why bother? to pretend he wasn’t a bad person? to act like I’m and he’s OK and everything’s cool? I might as well call the bee up and say lets play pool or whatever. which again, pa’ que? i dunno. Eden’s acting like he throws me into a rage, but it’s really kind of worse because i feel nothing. He didn’t care then, so why fake it now? I dont’ get it. Indifference, which man…fuck I tried with that guy man. Afterwards, I mean. I tried the hardest and he just fucking threw it in my fucking face. So karma can take of that, I guess.
also, sun’s mad at me now and i don’t know why. but i guess i’m enough of an asshole that asking for a specific reason is kind of silly. putting me off for weeks with ‘don’t want to talk’ which i know what it’s like but then hangs with tai or mei? girl things, i don’t know. and I don’t even know if it’s me or not. asking just makes it worse without explaining anything.
oh and laurachicken gets brain surgery soonish.
and i find out the sex this weekkkkkkkkkkkkk
finally three days later my leg stopped hurting although last night more stabbing pains. i think about vic, you know. i mean, he was fine that week. put in a full day and we said later and i left him working on some windows shit with W and poof he’s gone. i gotta set things up for in case i shuffle off this mortal coil. I think of Dee and her bloodclot in her leg.
Another year, and it gets further away and it hurts less, I guess. Eventually I will be able to stop feeling it at all. And if there were even the slightest bit of genuine sorry, we could be friends. Such a bitter pill. Last night at the big B, rockin’ it with Tai-tai:
me: So I’m sad. tai-tai: Why? me: because it’s the 4th of July. tai-tai: So? me: It’s my anniversary for when my drama-llama bullshit happened. tai-tai: oh. me: I mean, I bet you don’t even remember when the thing with your sister happened. tai-tai: no, I don’t know the day or even the month. I remember where i was and what I was doing. me: but that’s my point. I can’t forget, and even if I did, there’s fucking fireworks to remind me. tai-tai: like a party! YAY!
So I finally got around to scanning some old photos, including this one of good ol’ Randall P. Jones. The man certainly enjoyed his beanie propeller hat and could carry it with a certain panache. Need to send copies of related photos to interested parties, but Randy’s gone, so I figured what the hell.
Another year coming around. I find myself re-evaluating all the shit, good and bad, come my way. I’m doing OK, I guess. There are some causes for sadness, but overall, I can’t complain too hard, really. I enjoy my new job, and despite the death of Vic (or maybe because of?) I am learning more and doing different things, which is something I wanted when I left the old joint. Had Indian for lunch earlier with the dudes from Ye Olde Jobbe and they are in misery full-force. Which sucks. That whole environment is like a kid trying too hard; they want to be a business/enterprise instead of educational/medical — or maybe they think they should be? — and they’re just stressing the wrong things. Be a hardass about what you expect, don’t be a hardass about vanity or chain of command or other bullshit pipe dreams about how to show that the proverbial dick is bigger than the other dudes’. On the bright side, in about 5 to 10 years time, it’s going to be SUCH a premier environment (reputation-wise, for their care and tech etc…workwise, meh…too soon to say and things are too fast-moving to be able to pin down.) Relationship stuff’s worked out, really. Interpersonal drama-llama visits have been avoided. Old friends come back, Eden’s back and I will hopefully soonish find myself making some music with Bunny. I find myself thinking of Cass, wondering if she’s doing OK. My phone calls and emails to her are infrequent and I think awkward for her. I’m hoping this is why she doesn’t reply to emails. I switched back to winamp for playing music (itunes for the ipod still, but winamp is still awesomer) and the queen cover comes up at the oddest fucking moments. Still, she was awesome and that was aside from having the most amazing tits ever. Skeeter’s still pissed at me, but since she won’t answer or pick up, I just leave “wishing you the best” messages every 6 months or so. Mils is here today and gone tomorrow, back with the ex she always will have a spot for, which is kinda good, really. Sun’s comin’ from the tx, and i will be going to tx come august and maybe san fran or canada in the winter? I dunno. The old man’s gonna have multiple surgeries done at once but is putting it off until my sister gives birth, I guess in case he dies. I try not to think about it. Maybe let the vacousness of television numb it down; dr who greys anatomy dexter futurama cooking shows. Some days it’s just so much and some days you just relish in jumping into the fray, you know?
