Time to Break Out the Eating Pants

Thanksgiving is coming. Time to break out the Eating Pants.

I have two recipes which I am excited to use again this year when I make my pilgrimage to Flemington, NJ for the family get-together. The first was one I learned of from my cousin, Hilary, and it has been a delicious alternative for vegetarians, as well as just another yummy addition to the meal: Butternut Squash and Cheddar Bread Pudding. Its cheesiness elicits many cheese fantasies.

The second is this ridiculously unhealthy pie, called Double Layer Pumpkin Cheesecake, where there are two sticks of cream cheese in it and only half a cup of pumpkin. So, you know. It's basically like eating a buttload of cream cheese from a hypoglycemic cow.

Last year my sister and I had a small contest to see who could make the best pie. I think the critical factor was that I insisted you had to use a whisk or mixer to get the batter smooth enough, and Emily insisted you could whisk it with a fork or something and be fine. I'm not trying to make judgements here, but I just have to say I think my pie was better. Em would say they both tasted the same.

To be fair, at 1:30am the night of Thanksgiving, after a significant quantity of wine, she was absolutely right. And really, that is the ultimate moment of truth.

*photo courtesy of http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/double-layer-pumpkin-cheesecake-2/detail.aspx

Life in the Tower

My dreams, lately, have been scattered and surreal. You may suppose that all dreams are that way, but really, mine often have a very particular storyline, so the fact that they have lately felt disconnected and staccato-ed, is, I think, some testament to some kind of discomposure.

I also have been reading Tarot cards lately, and I keep pulling up The Tower. It's a jarring card, but not necessarily bad. It's more like a wild card that just yells "SURPRISE!" It speaks of some structure or situation that comes tumbling down. Something being thrown out of joint, or wiped out. It can speak of loss, but not always the bad kind. When we are stuck in a tower, sometimes we need something or someone to tear us out of it.

It can reference anything from being jarred out of a bad work situation, to falling in love–to be "struck by lighting" because of meeting someone. The bolt of lighting is often seen as the hand of God, as are the golden raindrops around it: representations of the Hebrew letter yod, symbolic of the same. The card is scary, but usually only when we are afraid to change, even if the change is good.

Some people, in fact, get this card when they're going to have a baby (hee hee, which makes the look on the faces of those people tumbling much funnier). But rest assured–that is definitely not my situation at the moment!

I do feel, though, for whatever reason, like I am falling, and where I will land, no one can say. Maybe I will get somewhere I would not have otherwise gone, however.

The Tower is part of the Major Araca, the big, fat suit of 22 cards that discuss the archetypal roles we are required to play in order to achieve spiritual growth. Usually that means you can't avoid these cards; they are part of your karmic destiny. Sorry! Transformation is a real bitch.

By the way, if you ever want to pick up a pack and start reading, anyone can. They operate on the principle of the collective unconscious–the same sort of thing that makes you dream of the future, etc. You may find it interesting, in fact, to google Carl Jung and the Tarot and see why he was so fascinated with it, but he's one of my history heroes so, you know, I'm a bit biased.

Judy Jetson: a Role Model

I am finding it hard to believe that it's november already. When did that happen? And what have I been doing with myself?

Well, I've been amusing myself with following up on the incredible success of my premier eHow article, "how to make a top out of men's briefs" with such illustrious titles as "how to hang oil paintings in stairways" and "how to coil the strings on Sperrys." I like to think that I am changing lives.

Also, check out more fun web copy I've written for the fabulously funky Falkora Jewelry, this time in the bracelets department. Any time in which I get to reference iconic American television classics like Judy Jetson and Morticia Addams is a good time, I must say.

P.S., do you actually remember Judy Jetson, and how boy-crazy she was, even though her boyfriends had names like Sky Rocker and Nicky Nebula? I had forgotten how inspiring she is.

salamanders aplenty

i haven't recorded an interesting dream in a little while for you, so here's one i had thursday night, thought i had properly interpreted, and then decided i didn't. so, for your pleasure:

i was traveling for work to baltimore, and was going to try to meet up with friends, but i couldn't. instead, i found myself in an historic market district that seemed so familiar, and i decided i'd just wander around there instead with the time set aside where we'd originally planned to meet up. i wanted to get lunch and i thought i remembered there was a good seafood place that did takeout, so i found it. it was at one end of this market street, tucked in a corner with outdoor seating and black iron-wrought furnishings. the rest of the market, by the way, was full of white, or lightly colored building fronts, almost white in the sunlight. it was early morning, so the sunlight was extremely bright.

then the waiter told me that they didn't do takeout anymore, or their food was not what i expected to be in some way, and i was frustrated. i knew i had limited time, so i had needed to take advantage of that, and now that time was wasted.

then the dream shifted and it was night, and i was checking into a hotel, presumably in that same neighborhood. the hotel was awful, extremely cheap, with crumbling ceilings and dodgy light fixtures, and even more bizarre, piles of random bric-a-brac that seemed to have been collected from garage sales, and thrown in piles into all of the rooms, by way of decoration and furnishing. the furniture, therefore, was all mismatched and scratched and gross-looking, and all i could console myself with was the thought that i wouldn't be there for long.

the dream shifted again and i'm in that hotel room but it's daylight now, and the sun is streaming in and blinding everything in the room, and i can't decide if it's good or bad. then i notice something i hadn't noticed before because of the glare in the room: a little salamander. it's on the floor, which is white tile, and it's so white itself that it's almost translucent. i peer closer and see that it is translucent, save for its two deep black eyes. it's both beautiful and gross, somehow--beautiful in its pure form, so white and so smooth, but gross in that it looks sticky, and is on my floor.

in real life, i love salamanders, but my only thought is that i enjoy them out in nature, and not in my bedroom. and the salamander is indeed sticky when i try to pick it up, and then i begin to notice that there are more of them.

some of them are tiny, and others are huge, and they're all over the floor, and the walls, and the ceiling, and i'm trapped because if i move i know i'll step on one, which 1) grosses me out, and 2) i don't want to hurt them. i call for help, and someone suddenly appears close to me, but i don't know who it is. i tell her that there are these salamanders everywhere, and she acknowledges it, but we don't know what to do. this part of the dream ends with us still trying to figure it out.

there is a second part of the dream that happened after that, but it's too vague now for me to recall more than faint images.