Last night's termite swarm ended after an hour or so - I was killing all the buggers by hand before decided to go after 'em with the vacuum. I had just cleaned out the vacuum - it's bagless and has a filter that gets clogged quickly. So all those pieces were washed and waiting in repose in my bathtub until the daylight when I could set them out to try in the sunshine. I'm not a fan of electricity and water combined.
But desperate times call for desperate measures, and wet filter got reassembled and put to work as a tool of termite slaying.
We were not fully victorious, however. I woke up this morning to a layer of termite wings.
OK, in principle, they're kind of cool - like shed fairy wings.
In reality - I had just scrubbed my floors, DAMMIT. They were as clean as my dishes, and these damn wood-eaters had to destroy my moral satisfaction in an immaculate abode.
Once again, I just remind myself - they were not roaches. That's the only thing that makes me feel better right now. I'm starting to really, really hate process tasks - the things that are never done. Sure, I can wash my dishes right now - but won't they just get dirty again, requiring it over and over again? So, what's the purpose? (This is why I love dishwashers - out of sight, out of mind.) Same with laundry. Cleaning. Sweeping my front steps. I love everything clean all the time, but why clean it when it just gets dirty again? Or cooking and eating - I'll just get hungry again, so what's the point?
Sigh.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Jazz Fest
On the one hand, it sounds great - people coming from all over for lots of hanging out listening to great music and eating great food.
The reality? It costs $55/day. Today, because I'm in "I will spend my way over him" mood, that doesn't sound horrible. But you can't take your own food/drinks in, and that adds up very quickly.
But it's not really about the money. It's about the fanny-packed white bread tourists I saw walking past my new apartment toward the mother ship - er, jazz fest in in the park.
And here's a post from a local who gives lots of good reasons to never go.
Don't get me wrong - I'd go if somebody else were paying (such a pity I don't have the right attitude to get me a sugar daddy) and I had good company.
But I'd rather stick my arm in an alligator's mouth. At least then I'd have a good story.
The reality? It costs $55/day. Today, because I'm in "I will spend my way over him" mood, that doesn't sound horrible. But you can't take your own food/drinks in, and that adds up very quickly.
But it's not really about the money. It's about the fanny-packed white bread tourists I saw walking past my new apartment toward the mother ship - er, jazz fest in in the park.
And here's a post from a local who gives lots of good reasons to never go.
Don't get me wrong - I'd go if somebody else were paying (such a pity I don't have the right attitude to get me a sugar daddy) and I had good company.
But I'd rather stick my arm in an alligator's mouth. At least then I'd have a good story.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
African stew recipe
Here's where I got the recipe.
And here are my changes:
Put in a Maggi cube - that's the magic of West African cooking and it was missing here.
a couple chicken breasts chopped up (small pieces good)
1/3 c. peanut oil
1 chopped large onion
a can of diced tomatoes
about 3 cupts of water (here - Magi cube)
a good squirt of tomato paste (1/8 cup?)
Tony Chachere's and cayenne pepper
1/3 c. peanut butter (maybe just a slight amount more but only very slightly)
1 large sweet potato would be sufficient
4 carrots thickly sliced
7-8 okra pods sliced
1 red pepper and 1 anaheim pepper
**
Brown the chicken in the peanut oil, then add the onion and stir until golden. Add sweet potatoes and tomatoes and tomato paste and water and let it simmer well for about 20 minutes, until sweet potatoes starting to get soft. Then add the spices and the vegetables in order, letting each simmer about 5 minutes before adding the next one.
Eat with rice.
Yummilicious. Four stars.
HOLY CRAP. THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF TERMITES GETTING IN UNDERNEATH MY FRONT DOOR AND I CAN'T STOP THEM. They're totally swarming me and it's so disgusting - they're not just swarming the apartment but actually me physically. I'm not talking a few - I can handle that. But they are rushing in faster than I can kill them and the boundary I put up doesn't even seem to slow 'em. At least I think they're termites - they have those nasty wings that shed, though they're significantly smaller than I know well. We got major swarm my first trip to Ghana, and those bastards were HUGE.
This sucks. At least I know it will pass - and it's not cockroaches. Blech.
And here are my changes:
Put in a Maggi cube - that's the magic of West African cooking and it was missing here.
a couple chicken breasts chopped up (small pieces good)
1/3 c. peanut oil
1 chopped large onion
a can of diced tomatoes
about 3 cupts of water (here - Magi cube)
a good squirt of tomato paste (1/8 cup?)
Tony Chachere's and cayenne pepper
1/3 c. peanut butter (maybe just a slight amount more but only very slightly)
1 large sweet potato would be sufficient
4 carrots thickly sliced
7-8 okra pods sliced
1 red pepper and 1 anaheim pepper
**
Brown the chicken in the peanut oil, then add the onion and stir until golden. Add sweet potatoes and tomatoes and tomato paste and water and let it simmer well for about 20 minutes, until sweet potatoes starting to get soft. Then add the spices and the vegetables in order, letting each simmer about 5 minutes before adding the next one.
Eat with rice.
Yummilicious. Four stars.
HOLY CRAP. THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF TERMITES GETTING IN UNDERNEATH MY FRONT DOOR AND I CAN'T STOP THEM. They're totally swarming me and it's so disgusting - they're not just swarming the apartment but actually me physically. I'm not talking a few - I can handle that. But they are rushing in faster than I can kill them and the boundary I put up doesn't even seem to slow 'em. At least I think they're termites - they have those nasty wings that shed, though they're significantly smaller than I know well. We got major swarm my first trip to Ghana, and those bastards were HUGE.
This sucks. At least I know it will pass - and it's not cockroaches. Blech.
okra lovin
OK, I'm still not really convinced that I like okra - I think that it's just coincidence that every dish I've had with okra since I moved here is yummilicious.
But now I'm taking the next step. Chopping up my own okra. So there it is, in its own bowl - by the yams and carrots and onions and peppers (red bell and anaheim) and short-grain brown rice (yes, it matters, definitely) and peanut oil (the trick here - high heat cooking) and tomatoes (I only eat fresh if I grow 'em myself - otherwise they taste like plastic) and cayenne pepper and Tony Chachere's.
Oh - I forgot to picture the peanut butter and awesome Italian tomato paste in a tube that I found at Central Grocery when I stopped by one time for a muffaletta. Yes, there's peanut butter and all this other stuff in this soup, as well as chicken - which I'm not displaying here for the faint of heart. This recipe is slightly different than the West African soup I was making a lot of this fall - mostly with the addition of the okra.
Two things should be clear from this picture: why I need a dishwasher (because I use so many dishes when I cook and my hands break out when I have to wash much by hand) and why I need a backyard (it can't be hard to grow all these things in New Orleans - and I always make friends when I give away fresh produce ... I'll just have to negotiate because he has a lawn back there with yardcare, and I'd rather not pay for pots).
So, I called the guy back and I'm moving in. I'll go back tomorrow and give him a check and find out when I can move in (the people moving out are waiting for their Lakeview house to be finished painting). Hopefully I can work it out with Ahmed's schedule because he's Super Duper Moving Man; otherwise I'm sure I can draft some folks. And I called my landlady and told her I'll be out before the end of the month.
Now I just need Jen to come visit and help me paint. Not that I have permission to, and it looks fine like it is now (a drab dark beige, like where I live now).
I'm just so FREAKIN STOKED about having a house again where I can have people over and really live. And I'll have space for guests! It's only one bedroom, but there's plenty of space in the front two rooms for visitors - and my bicycle. And maybe even a TV.
Yes people, I'm actually talking about owning a TV. I miss Netflix, I realized when I was at the yurts - I had it when I stayed with Susan last summer, and it was great fun.
OH! An excuse to go on a roadtrip to a place with an Ikea!!
moving?
In many ways, the apartment I went to go see is GREAT. It has all the appliances I want - even a dishwasher - and a back yard and an upstairs bedroom with two front rooms plus a laundry area and a big kitchen (with enough counter space) and bath. It gets natural light, but not so much that it was boiling hot. The neighborhood seemed somewhat integrated, and lots of old folks and young children stoop sitting. A real neighborhood. The new neighbor (it's a double) does curriculum development and lives alone - so she's probably quiet. It's location is bike-able from City Park (but let's be real - I've lived walk-able distance from Audubon Park for almost a year and have NEVER gone) and it's near some fun restaurants and even the Degas House (yes, where the artist lived). It's not far from the Quarter (1 mile exactly to the African restaurant I love so much) - so I'd be even closer to my friends Brad and Angelina when they're in town. They could bike to my house from theirs. Since we're such good friends and hang out all the time.
Oh, and the neighbor has two dogs. Neighbor dogs are the best - all the benefits of security and walking buddies, but none of the poop duties, food expense, or bye-bye guilt.
Now the downsides: no off-street parking. Five miles from school (I know that doesn't sound far, but I've been walking to school for the past year and do love not driving). High ceilings and old windows which means A/C bill will be HIGH. It's not all new and sparkly - it was built in the 1800's and shows it. It doesn't seem dirty or run-down, but it's not all modern and streamlined clean. He said to never go down the stairs in wool socks - they're worn down and very slick. (There's a sturdy banister on them.) There used to be a drug house down the street, though they moved out.
He said he'd ask the tenants how much the electricity runs and call me. My neighbor pays about $300/month for electric - he's way wasteful (running it when it's 70 degrees outside, running it all day long when he's not here), but I know my electricity will dramatically increase because of the high ceilings and three times larger space - but anyplace I'm going to move to will have that problem - I want more space, and I guess I'm willing to pay for it. So, the rent there is about $75 more per month, but once I figure in increased electricity and gas for driving, it'll be significantly more. But is that worth it to me, to be able to bicycle into the Quarter? To be able to walk to Jazz Fest? To have space to breathe again? To have an excuse to spend money at Bed, Bath and Beyond?
This will not be my frugal summer, that has been decided.
So, I'll go drive past there a couple more times today. He's showing it tomorrow, so I want to make a decision before that and hopefully get it. He has another place opening up at the end of the month, but it doesn't have that upstairs bedroom, which I really like. In theory I like shotguns, but the reality is that I like my bedroom separated off. Maybe part of my problem with sleeping lately is that I don't have separate sleep space.
***
Drove past. Even better this time - neighbors waved at me. I'll try to go back tonight right before I go to bed just to see.
Oh, and the neighbor has two dogs. Neighbor dogs are the best - all the benefits of security and walking buddies, but none of the poop duties, food expense, or bye-bye guilt.
Now the downsides: no off-street parking. Five miles from school (I know that doesn't sound far, but I've been walking to school for the past year and do love not driving). High ceilings and old windows which means A/C bill will be HIGH. It's not all new and sparkly - it was built in the 1800's and shows it. It doesn't seem dirty or run-down, but it's not all modern and streamlined clean. He said to never go down the stairs in wool socks - they're worn down and very slick. (There's a sturdy banister on them.) There used to be a drug house down the street, though they moved out.
He said he'd ask the tenants how much the electricity runs and call me. My neighbor pays about $300/month for electric - he's way wasteful (running it when it's 70 degrees outside, running it all day long when he's not here), but I know my electricity will dramatically increase because of the high ceilings and three times larger space - but anyplace I'm going to move to will have that problem - I want more space, and I guess I'm willing to pay for it. So, the rent there is about $75 more per month, but once I figure in increased electricity and gas for driving, it'll be significantly more. But is that worth it to me, to be able to bicycle into the Quarter? To be able to walk to Jazz Fest? To have space to breathe again? To have an excuse to spend money at Bed, Bath and Beyond?
This will not be my frugal summer, that has been decided.
So, I'll go drive past there a couple more times today. He's showing it tomorrow, so I want to make a decision before that and hopefully get it. He has another place opening up at the end of the month, but it doesn't have that upstairs bedroom, which I really like. In theory I like shotguns, but the reality is that I like my bedroom separated off. Maybe part of my problem with sleeping lately is that I don't have separate sleep space.
***
Drove past. Even better this time - neighbors waved at me. I'll try to go back tonight right before I go to bed just to see.
what do May showers bring?
So, yesterday when I decided to go out and do my shopping, a little voice told me not to wait - to do it now. I listened to that voice, though it wasn't my plan for the day.
Two hours later, the route that I take was so flooded that cars were submerged. My Tundra's got high clearance, but it ain't THAT high!
We got about 5 inches of rain in a few hours.
CRAZY.
Moral of the story: that little voice - I need to listen to it all the time. And always get houses above ground level.
Two hours later, the route that I take was so flooded that cars were submerged. My Tundra's got high clearance, but it ain't THAT high!
We got about 5 inches of rain in a few hours.
CRAZY.
Moral of the story: that little voice - I need to listen to it all the time. And always get houses above ground level.
Friday, May 04, 2007
when a minus is a plus
I'm HIV negative. The doctor called and told me and then asked, "Tell me again - why did we have you tested? The lab just called and I couldn't remember ..." "I was in Africa. I had open wounds that came in contact with bodily fluids." "Oh, right."
But mostly, I'm just all about the overkill. I have none of that privacy issue with testing, although if I were positive I'd be on the DL - I haven't seen Philadelphia, because if it's not on a plane I don't see it, but I know the story.
She's told lots of people they're HIV positive because she used to work at Charity Hospital - about 25% of their patients were HIV+. Were? Yeah, because Charity hasn't reopened. I just read a lawsuit by doctors who are caring for former Charity patients at pretty serious personal expense. Why on earth hasn't it reopened - or better yet, why aren't there better mechanisms in place to take care of people in need of medical care BEFORE they get to the emergency room. Better yet, why aren't there mechanisms in place to help people OUT of poverty in New Orleans?
Sigh.
I just saw a job posted for a part-time legislative policy analyst on education issues (that pays 3 times what a research assistantship does). Um, hello? Was that written for me? Well, after I talk to the prof next week about the assistantship, I'll make a decision.
I want to travel and have some fun this summer, I don't want to be all weighted down with boring policy crap that I studied and lived for years and years - but I do need something legal on my resume. Sometimes I wish I just finished my damn PhD in education policy, but the coursework was the easy part that I did finish - getting a committee to communicate with each other to get a dissertation through - that would have been a trick that I just really don't have patience for. Hm ... maybe I could do this job AND go back to that university for a PhD with the research I do there. Fat chance - I'm so over their dysfunctionality. My classmates complain about here, but it's SOOOO much better in so many ways than most other places I've been. It's not great, but it's not horrendous. That's all I'm asking for: not horrendous. Just let me in and out and get me a job.
My new power food for finals: chocolate soy milk. Yum, yum, yum + protein. I'm still way into hummus and pita, though this chipotle hummus I bought at Whole Foods is nasty, and I'll go clear back to Sav-A-Center for that yummilicious Tribe Jalapeno Hummus.
OK, I'm rambling. Time to study Legal Profession. Two more finals to go, and while this class completely de-inspires me because he didn't know how to teach and he sure doesn't know how to test (50 M/C questions and he'll drop any question that 50% of the class gets wrong - which shows he knows NOTHING about testing - and this is the basis of my ENTIRE GRADE), I should at least put a little effort into it to keep my conscience in check. I was going to go birding tomorrow but the weather's been so intense and I don't want to get caught in it. I am, though, looking at a new apartment tomorrow, so wish me luck.
Hee - I just saw the neighbor's dog, not wanting to get on the really wet grass to pee - just like Selma was and probably still is. She doesn't like getting her paws muddy, and she really doesn't like doing the girl dog squat to pee and getting her privates (Amy had a funny word for it, but I can't remember, and I've never been comfortable with genitalia euphemisms) wet. Yeah, that's my dog. Prissy thing that loves to kill.
But mostly, I'm just all about the overkill. I have none of that privacy issue with testing, although if I were positive I'd be on the DL - I haven't seen Philadelphia, because if it's not on a plane I don't see it, but I know the story.
She's told lots of people they're HIV positive because she used to work at Charity Hospital - about 25% of their patients were HIV+. Were? Yeah, because Charity hasn't reopened. I just read a lawsuit by doctors who are caring for former Charity patients at pretty serious personal expense. Why on earth hasn't it reopened - or better yet, why aren't there better mechanisms in place to take care of people in need of medical care BEFORE they get to the emergency room. Better yet, why aren't there mechanisms in place to help people OUT of poverty in New Orleans?
Sigh.
I just saw a job posted for a part-time legislative policy analyst on education issues (that pays 3 times what a research assistantship does). Um, hello? Was that written for me? Well, after I talk to the prof next week about the assistantship, I'll make a decision.
I want to travel and have some fun this summer, I don't want to be all weighted down with boring policy crap that I studied and lived for years and years - but I do need something legal on my resume. Sometimes I wish I just finished my damn PhD in education policy, but the coursework was the easy part that I did finish - getting a committee to communicate with each other to get a dissertation through - that would have been a trick that I just really don't have patience for. Hm ... maybe I could do this job AND go back to that university for a PhD with the research I do there. Fat chance - I'm so over their dysfunctionality. My classmates complain about here, but it's SOOOO much better in so many ways than most other places I've been. It's not great, but it's not horrendous. That's all I'm asking for: not horrendous. Just let me in and out and get me a job.
My new power food for finals: chocolate soy milk. Yum, yum, yum + protein. I'm still way into hummus and pita, though this chipotle hummus I bought at Whole Foods is nasty, and I'll go clear back to Sav-A-Center for that yummilicious Tribe Jalapeno Hummus.
OK, I'm rambling. Time to study Legal Profession. Two more finals to go, and while this class completely de-inspires me because he didn't know how to teach and he sure doesn't know how to test (50 M/C questions and he'll drop any question that 50% of the class gets wrong - which shows he knows NOTHING about testing - and this is the basis of my ENTIRE GRADE), I should at least put a little effort into it to keep my conscience in check. I was going to go birding tomorrow but the weather's been so intense and I don't want to get caught in it. I am, though, looking at a new apartment tomorrow, so wish me luck.
Hee - I just saw the neighbor's dog, not wanting to get on the really wet grass to pee - just like Selma was and probably still is. She doesn't like getting her paws muddy, and she really doesn't like doing the girl dog squat to pee and getting her privates (Amy had a funny word for it, but I can't remember, and I've never been comfortable with genitalia euphemisms) wet. Yeah, that's my dog. Prissy thing that loves to kill.
thunderstorm
We had the most amazing thunderstorm last night - I've never seen anything like it. Or heard - it was like gun shots in the next room. I tried to figure out how close the lightning was by the timing with thunder - but I couldn't tell which lightning and which thunder was connected - there was so much of it.
Now, four hours later, I look out and while the sky is eerie, creepy grey still, everything else looks normal.
We got an alert about what to do during exams if the storm shuts off electricity and therefore our exams freeze.
Crazy, crazy, crazy. We got hurricanes, tornadoes, caterpillar infestations, floods, and now this? Wow. I can't imagine what I would have thought if I were a prehistoric person out in that storm.
Now, four hours later, I look out and while the sky is eerie, creepy grey still, everything else looks normal.
We got an alert about what to do during exams if the storm shuts off electricity and therefore our exams freeze.
Crazy, crazy, crazy. We got hurricanes, tornadoes, caterpillar infestations, floods, and now this? Wow. I can't imagine what I would have thought if I were a prehistoric person out in that storm.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
what the hell is a sex journalist?
I don't know, but this one completely nailed it - it's as if she's overheard my private thoughts.
The only thing I would add is the smell. Black men smell so good. Yeah, yeah, I know - overgeneralization. I don't care. My libido is not PC.
The only thing I would add is the smell. Black men smell so good. Yeah, yeah, I know - overgeneralization. I don't care. My libido is not PC.
two down
Things I do not want to hear on my way out of exam:
"I think I knew everything on that exam."
"That wasn't as bad as I thought. I think I did pretty well."
Dammit, dammit, dammit. This was the Property exam and it was HARD. Too much stuff to remember which wasn't attached to any case (my childhood days of watching soap operas with older relatives, and maybe my literature study, helps me remember things from cases, which is my only advantage here now).
All I can pray for is a B. I just don't want below a B. That would be very bad. I just really have no sense of how I did. And now I have to wait for like 6 weeks to find out. Dammit.
Two down. Two to go. I bought a book to study for Monday's exam. Oh, kinda funny - I'm there and there's a huge line behind me and this guy I kinda recognized was there. I've only ever spoken to him once - before an exam last semester. He's Cambodian or Thai, I forgot, but when I saw his name I knew which and he thought that was strange because apparently no Americans do. Anyway, my point is, I waved him over and bought his Tylenol and he was really grateful to me. Then I got to the exam to sign in and Very Tall Nice Guy chatted me up, which he's been doing frequently lately. And I feel guilty every time because first I couldn't ever remember his name, and then I always said it wrong. And he's freakin TALL and I don't like tall people. Don't trust 'em - they're shifty. I mean, he's SERIOUSLY tall - he must be like 6'6" or more. I mean come on - that's not NORMAL. Anyway, he's super nice, and the last time he chatted me up was right before I left for Alaska and he knew my hometown right off the top of his head. That, friends, is just a little creepy. How does he know my hometown? Did I tell him? When? Did he look me up in the "yearbooky" thing that we have?
*I* can hardly remember where I'm from, and the vast majority of people who know me can't either. But this guy whose name I can't remember does?
Ah yes, final exam time is boy season for me. Gotta love it.
I was walking down the street today (OK - any mom reading, STOP NOW) and saw a black condom on the street. And I thought to myself, "Hm. I don't think I've ever used a black condom. Clearly I need to get back into the saddle - there are all sorts of new innovations I'm not yet familiar with. Green and red and other colors I didn't like much - but black - well, considering my proclivities I think that would be quite lovely."
Why limit myself to A rebound boy? Maybe I can make me a Rebound Boy Clan. One guy isn't going to get me over Dayton, but maybe living that Nelly Furtado song would. (You can guess which one.) Like Tami's mom says, I should just move on. I don't think she meant in quite the active way I mean it, but same deal.
OK, gotta eat. I have to fast 14 hours for blood tests tomorrow (not thyroid - thank goodness that doesn't require fasting).
"I think I knew everything on that exam."
"That wasn't as bad as I thought. I think I did pretty well."
Dammit, dammit, dammit. This was the Property exam and it was HARD. Too much stuff to remember which wasn't attached to any case (my childhood days of watching soap operas with older relatives, and maybe my literature study, helps me remember things from cases, which is my only advantage here now).
All I can pray for is a B. I just don't want below a B. That would be very bad. I just really have no sense of how I did. And now I have to wait for like 6 weeks to find out. Dammit.
Two down. Two to go. I bought a book to study for Monday's exam. Oh, kinda funny - I'm there and there's a huge line behind me and this guy I kinda recognized was there. I've only ever spoken to him once - before an exam last semester. He's Cambodian or Thai, I forgot, but when I saw his name I knew which and he thought that was strange because apparently no Americans do. Anyway, my point is, I waved him over and bought his Tylenol and he was really grateful to me. Then I got to the exam to sign in and Very Tall Nice Guy chatted me up, which he's been doing frequently lately. And I feel guilty every time because first I couldn't ever remember his name, and then I always said it wrong. And he's freakin TALL and I don't like tall people. Don't trust 'em - they're shifty. I mean, he's SERIOUSLY tall - he must be like 6'6" or more. I mean come on - that's not NORMAL. Anyway, he's super nice, and the last time he chatted me up was right before I left for Alaska and he knew my hometown right off the top of his head. That, friends, is just a little creepy. How does he know my hometown? Did I tell him? When? Did he look me up in the "yearbooky" thing that we have?
*I* can hardly remember where I'm from, and the vast majority of people who know me can't either. But this guy whose name I can't remember does?
Ah yes, final exam time is boy season for me. Gotta love it.
I was walking down the street today (OK - any mom reading, STOP NOW) and saw a black condom on the street. And I thought to myself, "Hm. I don't think I've ever used a black condom. Clearly I need to get back into the saddle - there are all sorts of new innovations I'm not yet familiar with. Green and red and other colors I didn't like much - but black - well, considering my proclivities I think that would be quite lovely."
Why limit myself to A rebound boy? Maybe I can make me a Rebound Boy Clan. One guy isn't going to get me over Dayton, but maybe living that Nelly Furtado song would. (You can guess which one.) Like Tami's mom says, I should just move on. I don't think she meant in quite the active way I mean it, but same deal.
OK, gotta eat. I have to fast 14 hours for blood tests tomorrow (not thyroid - thank goodness that doesn't require fasting).
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