What ever will I make

The abundance of rhubarb in my life has spurred a new obsession: the quest to make jam. And not just any jam (sugary, fruity, redunant) but incredible, mouth popping, savory-sweet-and-tart jam. I started scouring cookbooks and the internet for recipes and think I stumbled upon The One. Perfect timing, given one of my bosses delivered nearly five pounds of rhubarb to my desk this morning.

The weekend was a hit. The cabin is better than I could have ever dreamed. I fished, sunbathed, ate, and relaxed. I even went to the Outing Senior's plant and bake sale. It was something to behold. The baked goods were questionable at best (the molasses cookies my aunt purchased tasted like overly baking soda'd playdough that not even the chipmunks would eat) and the plants were... sparse. I think I should take over and hold the Outing Young Adults bake sale and show the old people how its done. (Or not really and just continue purchasing terrible baked goods and attempt to feed it to the wildlife).

Get me a fawn

Moon River, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style some day. Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker, wherever you're going I'm going your way. Two drifters off to see the world. There's such a lot of world to see. We're after the same rainbow's end-- waiting 'round the bend, my huckleberry friend, Moon River and me

I, too, want a pet fawn. Maybe I will find one at the cabin this weekend.

Rhubarb is in season. The pie and bars I made last night can attest to that. It was the first time I have ever baked without consulting a recipe. And boy did it feel good. Now it is time for round two to modify my instincts.

My indecision has been at an all-time high. Tonight, for instance, I cannot decide if I want to go up north or let the fifteen year old in me out and have a hay day seeing Jimmy Eat World. It really shouldn't be that hard but for some reason it's like the biggest decision I've ever had to make, like my life depends on it.

Last night consisted of some wine, some brie, and some baking. The new Bon Iver record is incredible. I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. At that moment it was the best sound in the world. And then I slept and was woken at 12:45 and once again lay smiling, watching the shadows on the walls.

[Thug love]

Fantastic images (life)

More often than not, my landlord is a total nut. But occasionally, he comes through, out of nowhere, with something amazing or incredibly generous. Like Christmas of 2009. There was a huge snowstorm and when I went out to my car in the morning, he had plowed around the entire perimeter. Yesterday, he sent me a link with the subject FYI. Turns out it was for 826LA, about a project they did with storytelling and recipes as a way to tell a personal narrative revolving around family. Then I looked into 826... how wonderful. Potentially something to keep on the back burner or horizon...

Images of the future, perhaps daydreams, keep me forward moving. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like without them. Without some sort of goal or ambition - visions of future me. Anticipation eats away at me and continually reminds me I am alive.

Speaking of images, look at these gems I stumbled upon this morning.

(From the top: Akira Kurosawa with Francis Ford Coppola; Debbie Harry with Iggy Pop; Dennis Hopper; Anthony Perkins with Audrey Hepburn)

You can have it all.

people

I hit my wall at 10:45am, and dove in to the Weekly Review. At that moment in time, there were no other alternatives. It made me feel weak - I think that is the earliest I've ever given in.

But how glorious it was!

A woman in Salt Lake City attempted to buy $10 worth of cocaine from an undercover police officer with $2 and an Olive Garden salad, but promised the officer she would return with more money and some Olive Garden gift cards.

That is a real thing that happened. Holy shit. People are really amazing creatures and just when I think I cannot be surprised, people try and buy coke with nonexistent gift cards. Incredible.

art a whirled

Friday I celebrated pho-riday, saw the Bad Plus perform Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, and was in bed at eleven with internet tv and ice cream in tow. Then Saturday and Sunday happened, in a parking lot, with plenty of rain, beer, and music.

I decided (yet again) that I am going to open something - more so accepted the inevitability of it. Restaurant, bakery, coffee... something. I keep getting good ideas. Finally I've had the wherewithal to write them down when they arise. My latest one is pork related. Cooking isn't entirely my thing, but I figure I can hire someone to do it. I'll run it/own it. And maybe bake. Because it's still patent pending I cannot totally give it away, but just think of the pork/park relationship. Madison Square Pork, Central Pork... My favorite one I'll leave for a later time (when I get that shit PATENTED) but really, isn't that great? The bakery idea as of late is Butterdish. I'm pretty in to that one as well. So if you know anyone with deep pockets or the will to open a place, send them my way.

Have ever had a feeling that you couldn't shake but couldn't explain?

I have one of those right now. And it seems like utter lunacy when articulated. 

Sometimes I just want to tell you everything. But then I think of The Bubble, of beginnings. I think of how incredible it feels. And then I tell myself to not over think it. Everything usually works out really well. So this, just like everything, will work out in some way, shape or form.

Trust me. Don't panic.

Weekly Review

Macho Man Randy Savage died in a car accident caused by a heart attack. Rumor has it the world is going to end and the band the Rapture is coming to play their biggest show ever on Saturday, just days after I proclaimed this is going to be the BEST SUMMER EVER. Studies show that sneezing while running on a treadmill will result in mild stumbling and laughter for the following mile. Tuesday marked the arrival and accomplishment of a successfully shipped pie to Omaha. The pie arrived fully intact and the recipient was quoted saying "This pie is the best thing in the world... I don't like it. I LOVE it!"

Thursdays melding into Fridays

I've started to wish on eyelashes again.

I can't read you when I look you straight in the eyes.

Lessons

Do not sneeze on a tread mill.

Life, waiting

Today feels sort of like waiting for Christmas morning or y2k. I can't tell which.

Anticipation is killing me and then I forget about it for brief periods of time.  

I've never been good at waiting. It's not terribly becoming on me. But I do it anyways.

[I just keep having these images of a crumbled up pie, warm from sitting in a box outside all day, and no one retrieving it. ]

missions

I spent my lunch break at the post office.

The guy at the PO asks, Is this perishable? as I hand over my paper bag wrapped box. He then flips it upside down and I squeal. I assure him It is wrapped well, I'm just nervous. Then he asks what it is and I tell him. A pie. How did you wrap it? He asks, Plastic wrap everywhere? And then I explain how it is wrapped and that it is fine but it's my first time sending a pie and it needs to be over-nighted.

So then I don't say why I'm sending this pie, just tell him All that matters is that it gets there tomorrow, condition is not that crucial.

For freshness, I add.

And then he just looks at me and goes You must really love this guy. I blush and don't know what to say because I don't love this person and then a lady chimes in from the line behind me and says, What kind of pie?

Now I'm really blushing and say Rhubarb.

A slight pause occurs and she responds. You will melt any man's heart with that.

Learning to love you more.

Twitterpated. There is a plethora of strange, potentially made up, adjectives that my mother has used my entire life and I consequently have picked up on. When I try to list them, I can't. They're just too good. You have to be there, hear them in context, smile because you know precisely what she means, and then store them in your oddball bank to use at a later time. This will help you become more like your mother, and trust me, this is a good thing.

Seeing the word Twitter in any context reminds me: I know nothing about that alternate dimension. I don't think I ever will. My friend Mark has tried to explain the concept and the benefits to me a handful of times but I still cannot seem to wrap my head around it. Sometimes I wonder what my father feels like when he goes to places like Facebook and enters a whole new world of information. I'm pretty sure what he feels is comparable to what occurs when I think about Twitter. Occasionally I will see the @ or # tags littering blogs or Facebook. That's about as well acquainted as I am. Hello high school football star. I know who you are, you sort of know who I am, but let's face it, we are never going to be friends. Maybe in English class I'll help you write complete sentences.

I started reading Learning to Love You More again yesterday. The two months I went without a smartphone, I stared blankly at my computer to pass the time. Books piled on my desk, but I didn't bother touching them. And then yesterday with my new attention averting device in tow, I reached for my book. I couldn't stop reading. Assignment 51 made me smile and feel hopeful that a person wants to be thrown in the forest and eaten by foxes when they die. It makes life seem... so. It is. It is fleeting and funny and circular and sad, not all at once and not always any of those. I cried when I read Assignment 31: Spend time with a dying person. It made me feel mortal and fleeting yet unstoppable and so full of joy.

I am so full of joy.

Comedy gold

My Iphone died a sad [and disgusting] death a few months ago. After giving up any further resuscitation and not wanting to drop another dime into that beast, I settled for my old nearly indestructible phone. Claiming that I was ecstatic about Not being So connected at all times, I tried to convince myself that I was better off without my [right arm] smart phone. Today ends the battle. I am throwing in the towel.

On the list for this evening: buy iphone [yess, i can barely contain my excitement, and I didn't need that $200 anyways], destroy Crane in cribbage, then go to stand up comedy.

I would say about 0.2% of all stand up is Good Stand up.  Most of it is painful, awful, uncomfortable, and probably not unlike water boarding or other interrogation and/or torture tactics. I mean really, what is worse than bad stand-up. Maybe I'm missing the point - that perhaps bad or should I say Amateur stand up - is a whole other entertainment art in and of itself. Regardless, I think it sucks.

But tonight, I am left with no choice but to watch my friend [who is incredibly funny and amazing] perform at a Working Man's Stand up night. It's a contest and, well, I should probably support him. And plus, if it sucks, I can be That person that heckles constantly and relentlessly...

You turkey: living

Much time has passed, along with a lot of living, since the last post.

Sometimes I don't know what to say to capture a moment. I want to, and I can see it streaming back in my head and oh how lovely it is! but there are no words that come to mind to articulate it. Maybe that is the essence of memory, why it is such a powerful thing.

Upon leaving the homeland yesterday, I noticed a wild turkey with its feathers outstretched. These turkeys are no strangers to the neighborhood, but usually they look like scrawny weird birds - like vultures or turkeys in the form of hairless cats. Apparently it is turkey mating season. I stopped my car in front of the male turkey and rolled down my window. It gobbled at me and puffed out its chest and started towards me. Then in my rear view mirror I saw a female slyly making her way over and decided to get away while my innocent eyes still had a chance. There are certain things you don't need to see and the imagination can do the work without seeing the real thing.

I was told yesterday that Life lines them up and I knock them down. I didn't know what to say to that statement at the time and continued the conversation without really addressing it. Quite clearly it stuck with me. At the time it was said I shrugged it off in disbelief, feeling a stupid sense of pity and that Karma has it out for me lately. But then I disproved that notion and proved the statement true.

I knocked it out of the park. Big time.

I've been following my instincts more lately. And they have been panning out. Really well. I may seem to have nothing figured out right now and seem really sporadic, but truth is I do.

She's waiting...

Moving Hopeful[ly]

Fall I want to love, winter I want to sleep, spring I want to make and summer I want to live.

I broke down my Minnesota year. Love, sleep, make, live. Now it's spring. Make plans, make goods, make words, make allies, make ... love. Had to put it in there. [Smirking at the funny reaction you are having reading this and cringing because I don't really mean it]. Make it in the feeling, make feelings. Make progress. Make anything.

Rhubarb season is upon us. So close I can taste the crisp tartness now...

Last night I had an epiphany about another blog. With a better name, it's going to be Shit I'm Into. Basically like, Today, I can't get enough Earl Grey Tea. And then I talk about it. Or J.Crew just came out with a new blue that is incredible and this is why. Or live Beirut is the best music to listen to in spring in Minneapolis. Or whatever. Less How I Feel and more Shit I Like.

About Today

One Hundred posts will be achieved upon clicking Publish. Sort of a big deal, especially given the majority of entries have been penned, er, typed since I proclaimed I would write in here [nearly] every work day beginning in January. And fittingly enough, I lack anything poignant to say.

Registration for the Minnesota State Fair Creative Activities has opened for 2011. Brainstorming submission possibilities has begun, and the Emmy test kitchen is about to open up shop for the year. Initial plan [as of today] is to enter in eight different categories. That means eight chances of winning a blue ribbon. Yes please.

[Most always] it would be best if you could just join in on what I see and hear. Sort of like how I'd imagine these vast expanses in time moving and swaying and then conjure images in words and film. Sometimes when I'm lucky [someone beats me to the punch and] I can find them captured by someone else.

And with that, I bring to you my current Favorite things. [Just like Oprah without all of the screaming and free stuff and perhaps a bit more whimsy and sincerity.]

I could watch this all forever. Sights and sounds and back again.

You just walked away and I just watched you.