Free!

It's been a long while since I have had a consistent Internet connection. Taipei is a wonderful city, though I feel like I haven't seen far too many parts of it. That goes for the rest of Taiwan as well—though that's going to have to be another trip entirely.

The National Taiwan Library was great, with shelves and shelves of sources—though I think the librarians kind of prefer that you look at things on the computer instead. It'll take forever to go through everything (even just those that are relevant), but it will certainly be worthwhile.

Perhaps the best thing I have eaten is the cong you bing that they had at Wufenpu. Mmmmm. So oily and so crispy, just the way I like it. Like fried chicken.

(And this mysterious sign that was on the wall at Taipei 101? I looked up what the gift box meant, but I promptly forgot. My guess is that, if you follow the arrow, they will give you a free gift.)

Hidden doors, the mystery

I remember now why I dislike international flights: They are invariably long. And our flight today from LAX to Taipei brought back horrible memories of the first flight from my childhood that I remember: going from Narita to Los Angeles for the first time. Trauma, I tell you. Trauma.

But the condo where we are staying is cute—the doors have no knobs, so it's kind of like a game trying to figure out where everything is. Like looking for the stairs in the house from My Neighbor Totoro...

And, coming to Taipei confirms my Orientalism: People in Taiwan are better looking than people in Japan. They look exotic—and thus automatically more desirable. (I'm glad I don't actually mean that...)

Two Moons

I am having a baby, a baby known as a dissertation. But before I go into labor, I thought I might read the famous Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer (not to be confused with our friend...well, never mind). As in, I would like to read it in the same way I would like to read Wild Animus. As in, not really. But kind of. For curiosity.

But the story seems similar to Midnight Secretary, so I wonder: In comparison, would Twilight even be worth the mindless entertainment??

What is your dream?

I've now reviewed my notes and readings, and I am ready to really start grading this mo fo of a stack of bluebooks. Bring it on.

But before that, I want to ruminate on the show Buddy and I went to last night. Soda Bar...what a whacky venue. We saw Jeffrey Lewis (and the Junkyards)...and I learned about a folksy band called Common Rotation. Three dudes with a guitar, a banjo, and a harmonica...what is not to love?

Les Noces

I wonder if people still describe marriage as something akin to a spider catching a prey in its web. Trapping. Snagging. Getting hitched. (No, wait, that's a different metaphor...)

And if people still do describe marriage as like a spider web, then I wonder if the spider is male or female. Of course it is traditionally female—black widow, hey hey—but I wonder...if our conceptions have perhaps changed? There is that saying in Chinese—鮮花插在牛糞上—that describes a "waste," like a fresh flower being stuck in manure. Or a young wife marrying an old man. Ponder.

Ah, musings about marriage. What better way to pass the time? And to contemplate the meaning of life, reproduction, beauty, and music? On Saturday Buddy and I went to a performance of the La Jolla Symphony (and Chorus), where the evening was packed with music by folks like Bartók and Stravinsky. My favorite piece was Les Noces by the latter, and the performance of it included choreography that featured Lux Boreal Contemporanea Danza. ::sigh:: It was so beautiful, the portrayal of the wedding, the emotional torment, the drama, the tears...

But wait a minute. I am puzzled why the very suggestion of marriage and (legal) union invokes polar reactions from me. As though I feel like I should steer clear of it, or maybe I should really take a look at it to see what is so wonderful about it. Of course it's wonderful, I'm not questioning that. The beautiful choreography only convinces me more. Except...

Well, it's a good thing I'm writing that dissertation to hash out these ideas. Two nights ago we also went to a performance of chamber music through the Camera Lucida concert series. It is so great being on a university campus that offers these (hoity-toity?) opportunities... Future performances of the same series feature Beethoven pieces, so I must needs go. Especially since I'm missing LJSC's Beethoven performance...

But, alas, we must go where fate takes us, whether that is marriage or a spider web...

one down, two to go...

It's time for me to buckle down and study for this silly little exam of mine. Once I take this tomorrow morning, I'll just have to grade over the weekend, and the quarter will be done...

The season is changing as we steadily make our way toward winter. It has been cold here (I say freezing, though some disagree), but that also means we get some lovely skies at dusk...

Happy December 1st!

Several good things happened today. One, my salary for the month showed up in my bank account. Woot. Two, I (finally) turned in a revision of my prospectus to my co-chair. That is a step, even if he does not approve it. Three, Buddy and I went to see a show at The Loft...for me, the first time in a long time. Success.

Well, let me take that back. The show itself was not a success. We went to see Marco Benevento, with a opening duo that was comprised by a prof and a grad student in the music department. I...have no idea what to make of the opening duo. It's partially because I didn't stay to listen. But that's because what little I heard from them, I could not really enjoy. They were the "experimental improvisation" type, and I...yeah. I just can't do that, I guess.

Marco Benevento, on the other hand, was interesting. I think I had expected something more produced than what he performed tonight. Obviously I should not ask for music that sounds like James Figurine or The Postal Service or even Freelance Whales when the guy is playing live (with a bassist and a drummer, to boot). But...I don't know, there was something unkempt, something about it that just didn't come together enough for me. I described it to Buddy on our walk home as being "not clean," "not coalescing." Maybe an unfair assessment, but.

Regardless, I am happy for our stop at The Loft. It's such a cute venue, with drinks (and food). The interior is cute, though the music can get kind of loud, even the playlists they play during lunch. But for a kind of fancy lunch on campus (or an accessible venue), it is not too shabby at all.

四川

今天晚上，我跟我男朋友去了《巴人四川》，一起吃了晚飯...

Oh man, I really have to learn how to use my 了...that and TD (time duration). Grammar will be the death of me in Chinese...

Anyway, dinner was lovely—as always everything was delicious, though this time nothing was too spicy, so we could enjoy our meal without sweating a whole lot. But before that we had gone to Mitsuwa, and I in my excitement had bought way too much vegetables...I'm not sure if I can use them all up before they spoil. I'm going to have to look for Japanese food recipes tonight before I go to sleep...

Speaking of Japanese food, I had been meaning to write about my dad's tie for a while now. I know, it seems unrelated... (Maybe it is.) But I guess the logic is that, speaking of Japanese food, oh, right, my dad eats Japanese food too! Hence the connection.

So right, the tie. I used to have this strange thing of using ties as belts. My (now) brother-in-law begged me to stop the habit because he thought it was weird, but to be honest, ties are a lot more preferable to use as belts than actual belts. For one thing, they're soft—so they don't have that uncomfortable feeling of constricting you. Plus they often come in stylish colors and designs, which is much more interesting than your run-of-the-mill belts off the rack.

But once I moved and threw out a bunch of things, I also ended up throwing out most of the ties I used to use as belts. (Ties are a little fragile, so if you use them for a while, they start to wear and tear. Literally.) And it was only recently that my dad offered me one of his ties to resurrect my old tie-as-belt habit, if I wanted to. Dad has so many ties that he no longer wears (I guess the dress code is less strict here than in Japan), so the selection was quite exciting. But just to make sure my brother-in-law wouldn't get sad about my lapsing back into the questionable habit, I decided to start out with just one.

The tie I chose is mustard yellow, with chestnut brown and khaki green stripes. I actually wear brown and green every other day, so it works out well. Plus it matches one of the Slainte bags I have, so I could not be happier.

But to be honest, somehow I feel more hesitant about wearing my tie now than I was five years ago. Could it be that I am becoming more fashionably conservative with age? Oh geez.

Anyway, I am telling you. Ties as belts. It's a classic concept, but it's not appreciated enough. It also works perfectly if you go out to a really good Japanese restaurant with your parents and you eat too much...or maybe to the Sichuan restaurant with the too-yummy food...

cream puff.........

Today I really, really, really wanted to eat a cream puff. I have no idea why. I thought of it early in the day, and the thought never left me.

The problem is, there is no cream puff sold anywhere on our campus. So I settled on buying either cupcakes at Sprinkles or cream puffs at the grocery store on my way home. Thus I set myself to fantasizing for the rest of the day.

But of course, there was no way I was going to be able to put off having cream puffs until the end of the day. So, naturally, I caved. The substitute I thought of was the Madagascar Vanilla Freddo (with whip) from Peet's coupled with a chocolate scone.

Bad, bad. Glutens everywhere. (Of course, the only gluten-free option I'd thought of anyway were the gluten-free cupcakes from Sprinkles...but still.)

Anyway, on my way home I looked for cream puffs at the grocery store. But get this—they weren't there. Not at Whole Foods, not at Ralphs, not even frozen kinds at Trader Joe's. ???

So now I am determined to make shortcakes from the Babycakes cookbook instead, just to win out this battle of the cream puffs. Of course, shortcakes aren't quite cream puffs, but I don't think I can make those myself gluten-free and have them turn out edible. So shortcakes they will have to be. At least with plenty of whipped cream, I won't be able to tell the difference.

(Ah, cream puffs...in Japan we call them Choux Creme. One day, one day...)

fall colors, giving thanks

Although I'm not hugely into Thanksgiving, it was nice to spend the long weekend with my parents. Buddy drove us up on Wednesday and we returned Sunday, which gave us all plenty of opportunities to eat lots of good food (which is what my family does best).

There was no turkey to be had by us, but we did have a tasty Vietnamese shrimp curry, along with our traditional casseroles (yum!). Other nights we had fish—lots and lots of fish. Most of it was raw. This is how Japanese people give thanks, I think.

Buddy and I also took a couple of strolls through the neighborhood, and although California just isn't that good with the leaves turning, it was nice to see the existence of some flora around the block. My parents also had some nice roses, mums, bell peppers, eggplants...oh, the joys of having a productive garden.

The next wave of holidays will be here in no time, but for now I am thankful for good family, good friends, and good health of those around me. Finals week, here I come!

miscegenation!!!

jajaja, i know, that's a horrible thing to say. but i'd always wanted to try mismatching my rice ball makers, and now that i've done it, i think they look a little weird...like couplings that just aren't natural...

i got these rice ball makers from my aunt, who was in the process of cleaning out her house. if you can't see them, they say Tokyo Disney Resort on them. clearly the folks at Tokyo Disney are interested in people making rice balls more efficiently...

actually, that is the sense i get from most companies and most products sold in japan. people want things faster, more efficient, more instant, more...whatever. it's such a small country and people need to get as much done in the shortest amount of time and smallest amount of physical space possible...it's kind of overwhelming.

(of course, i spent most of my time in tokyo this last time, so maybe if i go back to the inaka part of the country where i grew up, things will be different...)

砂糖っす！

なぜか今日は、一日中甘い物が食べたくてしょうがありません。何か病気みたいっす。

そいでですね、甘い物と言うと、やっぱりこだわるのは砂糖なんすよ。最近砂糖よりメープルシロップの方が料理に使う事が多いんすけど、もし砂糖だったら、この間日本で買った粗糖が好きですね。

友達と一緒に行った『酢飯屋』。なにしろ美味しくて、美味しくて、毎日そこで食べられるお金があったら、ホント毎日そこで食べてます。で、帰る前にそこで買った粗糖が、こだわりの品。柔らか〜い甘さで、なんとなくクリーミー。煮物にもいいし、もちろんお菓子作りにも。見てるだけでもうっとりする、名前通りの黄金色です。

砂糖だけでなく、他にも売ってるので、皆さんもどうぞ〜。

if being a boy means...

...i can drink out of the carton, then i would be one.

lately i've gotten into drinking milk straight out of the carton. there is something so simple about it—i suppose it's in eliminating the step of pouring it into a glass. (it's also probably because lately i've been eating spicy things, and i've been needing milk, at hand and accessible, one too many times.)
  
what i am reminded of then is the part in Nicholson Baker's The Mezzanine where the narrator talks about milk cartons, and how he finds their openings just the right shape and size to invite bringing one's nose close to it—this, of course, is an anxious gesture, since usually one does it to see if the milk is still good. (the narrator's partner cannot understand how he can bring himself to do that...but of course, that's the lure of the milk carton opening...)

연습 해야 돼요...

어제 오후 우리 학과에서 와타나베 교수님이 한국사람의 작가가 쓴 일본어 문학 대해서 발표 했습니다. 그 다음에 교수님들하고 대학원생들이 같이 저녁을 먹으러 근처의 식당에 갔습니다.

교수님들은 한국어로 이야기 하고있었어서 저도 한국어로 말해 봤습니다. 하지만 한국어로 말 하기는 정말 정말 어렵습니다. 친절하는 교수님들은 저를 도와주셨지만, 저는 손과 표정으로 대화를 해야 됐습니다.

그렇지만 어젯밤의 저녁 때문에 저는 한국어로 이야기 하기를 연습 하는 것을 결정했습니다. 그래서 여기서도 앞으로 이렇게 쓸 거예요. 이건 많이 시간이 필요 합니다...  

(이 사진은 서도호의 "추락한 별" 입니다. 화요일에 건물의 위에 크레인으로 놓았습니다. "추락한 별" 은 스튜어트 콜렉션의 제일 새로운 조각 입니다. 이 조각은 집이 없는 사람들을 상징 합니다.)

fengshui...

it was another late night on campus (well...not too late, i was gone before the sprinklers started), so on my way home i took a commemorative photo of one of our many campus fountains. this one's on library walk near student health. and though it's not much of a looker during the day, there was something rather inviting about it late in the evening...

i wonder what it is about fountains and flowing water, the way they calm us down, draw us in. it's certainly a notable element in eastern cultures, but is there a similar counterpart in western cultures? i can think of bubbling brooks and placid lakes (wait...lake placid...isn't that a shark night movie? oh geez...), but i wonder if there is a similar kind of cultural significance placed on water (or wind or fire or wood or metal or earth...). is there a religious significance, perhaps? hmm...

Why some of us teach

Today I got surprise visits from two of my students from last year. Whee! They totally made my day, and I was really happy as I headed off to a book discussion late in the afternoon. :)

Just as exciting, last night Buddy and I went to dinner at Nozomi with two of my students from three years ago. It's scary how fast time passes, but it was so nice to sit and talk over good food and hear what they both had been up to lately. They are marching toward a new phase in their lives, and it makes me feel...well, frankly, it makes me feel old. But regardless, I like the idea that the classroom brought us together at one point, and that the lessons we learned there might bring us together again in the future.

I wonder if this is why some people choose to become teachers—not just the "teaching" and the "learning" ("Oh, I learn so much from my students," blah blah), but the possibilities of seeing people not within relations of teachers/students but...look, we have this time that we spend together in this room that's meant for learning, education, discipline...and yes, at the end of the day I will give you a grade and you cannot change or challenge it...but I know things that you don't, and you know things that I don't, and maybe we can take a few moments each time we meet and share them, so that we come out a little bit wiser, a little bit stronger, because of it all.

Who knows. We can't all be O Captain! My Captain! like Robin Williams, but I suppose some of us can choose to aim for that. At the least I am ecstatic that I am not teaching in a country that mandates a very clear (and oppressive) hierarchy between teachers and students. Yes, Japan. I am talking about you.

So, the above is a photo of one of my students, or at least, it's a photo of her fist. She hates pictures but I wanted to take one, so we arrived at a compromise. Like what any teacher/student relationship should be all about.

Goat!

Today we got together to celebrate a friend's (belated) birthday over dinner. This friend happens to be someone who made me gluten-free hamburgers (buns and patties!) from scratch, so the pressure was on to make something nice in return. Buddy made a lovely (and very spicy) pumpkin curry from the gourds we'd gotten from our farm share the last couple of weeks. And I made cheesecake. A very dense, heavy, and rich cheesecake. So much so that I am dreading the leftovers in my fridge.

Who doesn't love cheesecake? Apparently Buddy doesn't, but he was gracious enough to serve and eat the darn thing. I got the recipe out of a little Nestlé brochure that incorporates one Nestlé product or another into every single recipe it has. (I wished I had a comparable brochure for Campbell's.) In order to complicate things, I decided to use half cream cheese and half goat cheese...and maple syrup instead of sugar...but other than that I did not have any strange substitutions. ::Whew::

Here is what happened: I took a bunch of (14 or so?) gluten-free chocolate cookie sandwiches (kind of like Oreos) and scraped off the frosting bit. (I did not eat the remaining frosting...though I really wanted to. Until I ate one. And then I didn't.) Then I crushed up the cookies, added some lemon-flavored olive oil and some maple syrup, pressed it into a glass pie dish, and stuck in the fridge. Crust done.

Next I took 8 oz. each of cream and goat cheeses (that had been sitting out on the kitchen counter for a while) and beat them up. Then I added about a 1/4 cup of maple syrup and 2 eggs. Then I melted some white chocolate chips (about 6 oz.?) over warm water and mixed it into the cheese. In went the vanilla extract. Then everything into the prepared chocolate crust. Thirty minutes at 375 ºF, and out came a (little bit too) browned goat cheese cake. (I didn't have any raspberries, so blackberries had to do for garnish.)

I think it was OK. It really was too rich, and I felt sick after my 45º piece. The red wine made it tolerable, but I really do wonder what the heck happened to make it so heavy. ::sigh::

Speaking of which, I am feeling very sleepy at the moment and am impressed that I remember the cooking steps so darn clearly. I heard that Asian people (and their livers) process alcohol differently, and that that's why we get such a thing as "Asian flush"...I wonder if that explains why I always get sleepy so much more easily than other people do at dinner parties...

金魚です！

昨日、ついに源吉兆庵の『金魚』を食べました。何を隠そう、これは七月に日本に行った時からのお土産——しかも賞味期限は２０１１年８月２３日！うひゃ〜、これは危ない。でもさすがに砂糖の量が多かったらしく、人体には差し障りが無い様でした。

 何と言っても、日本の和菓子は可愛い！この淡いオーガンザの茶巾袋も好きだけど、ゼリー自体が愛らしくて食べられませんでした。（なんて言いながら食べちゃったけどね。）説明書きには「レモン風味」って書いてあったけど、私が食べた時はなんとなくラムネの味がしたな〜。懐かしくて美味しかったわ。

こう言う繊細な和菓子も、日本の特徴なのだろうか。これから私が研究して行く『大和撫子とは？！』と言う質問も、やっぱりこの様な物を理解できる女性を前提とするのだろうか······

whisk + ladle = yum

Last night Buddy took me out to dinner at Whisknladle, one of our favorite restaurants in the San Diego/La Jolla area. Aaaaaahhhhh, soooo gooooooooood. We were celebrating the fact that we had gotten over one of our main deadlines (although we both have a couple more coming up). And what a way to celebrate, it was.

We first went to Whisknladle for Restaurant Week in fall of 2011, and we've been back multiple times ever since. (My parents also really like it there, which is quite a feat.) The food is consistently excellent and the staff is professional, helpful, and friendly. What more can we ask for?

Last night we started off with a Moroccan lamb soup that was spicy and fragrant and with just the right kind of mellow, smoky flavors. And it was so nice and warm. Really tender lamb with spices and black-eyed peas...yum. Which reminds me, it's getting into perfect soup season...

(Actually we'd started off with a glass of Merlot...essential. A little more savory than I'm used to, but it went well with the soup.)

Next we had a hunk of burrata cheese with amazing, amazing toast. It was a very thick slice of light bread brushed (or soaked?) in olive oil and toasted until the outside was crispy and the inside was as fluffy as if it had just come straight out of the oven. And accompanied by marinated shishito peppers and softened bell peppers over a blend of olive oil and balsamic vinegar? ::sigh:: We'll just have to try to replicate that at home some time.

Next we had buttermilk fried sweetbreads, with a lovely sauce colored pink from tender beets. I'm not a huge beet fan, but these beets last night tasted like candy. Or apples. (Maybe the latter is better.)

Around this time we got ourselves a glass of Riesling, in anticipation of the upcoming fish and the dessert course to follow. Thanks, Mr. Server guy, for the suggestion!

So yes, we got seared albacore with warm celery and beets (yet again) on the side. Ah, those celeries. I'm gonna have to pick some up at The Fruit Stand and see if I can make them at home. It all came on a little bit of mustard creme sauce. With mustard seeds, I guess, now that I think about it? Right, they couldn't have been poppy seeds... (And they were nice enough to split them onto two plates, even!)

We went all extravagant and got ourselves two desserts: pumpkin fritters (by recommendation of our server) and maple custard. Oh boy, they were both amazing. If I could cook at all I'd attempt one or the other (or both), but I'm just going to have to go back to eating at Whisknladle some other time instead.

What a perfect beginning to a perfect (long) weekend. Happy Veterans Day, everyone!

she should not have eaten them seeds.

One of our CSA boxes at the end of October contained a pomegranate, and since we were gone for that weekend I got around to opening it a number of days later. (Jack at my old work taught me to open pomegranates underwater...thanks for the tip, Jack!)

Pomegranates are one of those things of nature that amaze me every time I open them. I feel that way about other fruits too, like dragon fruits and kiwis. They look kind of suspicious on the outside (they have a hard shell, or spikes, or a fuzzy skin), but  when you open it it's just stunningly beautiful. (I was tempted to add cherimoyas to the list, but they look suspicious on the outside and the inside...) And pomegranates just taste so...good. They look like jewels, and they hit you with their tart bite. (I wonder if this valuation applies to people as well...)

Every time I think of pomegranates, I am always reminded of the Greek myth about Persephone and how she was abducted by Hades into the underworld. I liked how he made a deal with Persephone's mother to have her stay in the underworld six months out of year, on the account that she ate six pomegranate seeds. Huh?! How does that make sense? But he's cute, he must have really liked her and wanted her to stay with him.

That was the first Greek myth that I remember reading in English. I'd read a lot of Greek mythology as a kid in Japanese, but after I moved to the United States I had to learn how to say words like "Persephone" and "pomegranate"...

(I meant to take a landscape photo of the pomegranate seeds...but I guess I forgot to. Oh wells.)

the art is very wearable today.

Back in September Buddy and I took a trip to go visit the lovely Windy City. It was so much fun! Chicago feels different from other cities like San Francisco (my favorite) or New York (where we were just in June)—a little bit more quiet, maybe a bit older, calm and established, doing its own thing...

While we were there we went to the Art Institute of Chicago (where the lions are!) and there was an exhibition on kimono as art, titled (somewhat anticlimactically) Japanese Kimono, 1915–1940. The collection wasn't that large, but it had some interesting pieces with discussions about changing modes of design (influenced by modernization and the West, of course) and also of production and consumption. It made me think about the various ideas that each kimono piece signifies (ranging from the obvious, like class and marital status, to the perhaps a little less so, like the season or the occasion for which the kimono is being worn). Which reminds me...I need to learn how to wear a kimono so that I can do it by myself.

The exhibition ends this coming Sunday, and I'm really glad that Buddy and I went at the time that we did. There was also an overwhelming Chagall piece there titled America Windows, which left me slightly breathless. It was kind of intense. And very, very blue.

We also saw Cloud Gate at Millennium Park, of course...and the tall fountain that spits out water once in a while. Whee. :D

お久しぶり······

今さっき、日本から出張でアメリカに来てる友達に会いました。なんと、１０年ぶり！お互い全然変わってなくて、なんか笑っちゃいました。友達の先輩達も来てて、とても楽しい時間を過ごせました。

時間の都合もあって、T.G.I. フライデーズで会うことに。っと、日本にもあるんだってね。悪いことしちゃった。すまん！今度はもっと美味しい所に行こうね！

で、その友達がなんとお土産に、柚子茶をくれました！あ〜、幸せ〜。こう言うの、大好き。しかも、「とびっきりおいしい」って所が、とっても可愛いです。:)

早くお湯沸かして、飲みたいな〜。幸い、今夜は徹夜で仕事だから、その機会はたっぷりと······　嬉しいのやら、悲しいのやら············

fall harvest

A little while ago we got a pumpkin in our CSA box. That was a busy weekend for us, so we decided to put off doing anything with it...until now. And now, we still haven't quite figured out what to do with it.

Any suggestions? It's so cute, and I don't want to carve it, but it's so much more fun looking at it than (the thought of) eating it...

Coffee Blast

That's the flavor of Double Rainbow ice cream that is my boss's favorite. He and his partner used to get us all sorts of good food and wine to eat while we worked. Really, the best of employers.

Yesterday as we were walking home Buddy and I were talking about double rainbows (well...I was talking about the ice cream, he was talking about the phenomenon). When we got home and looked up, there it was—a double rainbow.

It must be a sign...which is good, because now that I am done with grading I have to write my paper that is due on Monday. And even though this paper isn't about rainbows (the previous paper was), they should still inspire me to do a good job.

(I like how things in our environment cause these little delights...)

how to be a 24-hour joint

On Wednesday I left campus rather late, so to make myself feel better I took a picture of Library Walk. Yeah, no idea how that logic works...

But seriously, can we, as members of society, ever take breaks? I get this feeling that, for many people, life is just an endless cycle of deadlines. (Well...I actually don't feel like that applies to me necessarily, but sometimes I do feel like taking a break.) If it isn't cycles of writing papers or grading, it's the necessity to pay bills, pay the rent, pay the mortgage...to go shopping so that the fridge is stocked, to sleep so that we don't break down, to change clothes so that we don't get treated badly by other clean, well-dressed people in the world. Wow, talk about demanding.

At least when I worked in an office I felt like I had weekends...although in hindsight, there are numerous occupations where you are on the clock 24-7, where there is really no weekend, where you are on-call even after you drive home...oh my, work (and the feeling of having to make money just to make ends meet) is oppressive.

I wonder, though, how this might differ specifically for people in academia. We're not really on anyone's clock, except for maybe the tenure clock. If we don't get our work done, the only people who suffer are...us (we? ourselves?). If we do badly, we're just letting ourselves down. Some people in academia probably don't even get paid that much. Working conditions may be less than ideal. There may be no health insurance. Maybe no job security. But still, the occupation of "teacher" (or even better, "professor") still remains a somewhat high-status occupation in the United States. So, are people in academic subject to this cycle of deadlines differently?

Why is it that we feel like we can't even take a break once in a while? (Of course there is the response that some people really like what they do for a living/job, and thus there is no need for breaks. Or there is the all-consuming "once I get tenure" mantra... Hmm, these questions are too complicated for my tiny brain right at this moment...

::sigh::

That's three deadlines down, three more to go...

Today I was a little bit more sleepy than the limit for being productive during the day, so after class I got myself a cup of mint mocha from The Art of Espresso (est. 1999, according to the paper sleeve—not sure if that warrants an explicit indication). I could have done with more sweetness, but it was a pick-me-up, and for that, perhaps the taste doesn't really matter...

While I was standing in line at the cart I entered into a conversation with the person standing behind me. It had been a while since I'd had a random friendly encounter like that. I feel like it used to happen more often, probably when I lived in San Francisco. I wonder if people in certain cities are more prone to interacting with people they don't know? Or maybe my encounter today was particular to me and the other person (who also was not American)? I am curious whether people in the U.S. are less inclined to have casual, friendly conversations while on queue...

and the crowd goes wild!

I'm looking forward to a work-filled week (as in..."I have work to do," not "I'll get a lot of work done"), but Buddy and I spent the weekend with my family to celebrate my dad's birthday, and upon returning we enjoyed the opening weekend of the new season with the La Jolla Symphony & Chorus.

What a way to kick off a season titled "Stravinsky Circus" (and spend Sunday afternoon)! Steven Schick (of red fish blue fish fame) conducted the performance, which itself was subtitled "The French Composer." It was everything I expected of LJSC...including the usual from the horns, but that's OK.

We started off with a short piece by Stravinsky that was my least favorite. I'm too simple-minded to be able to appreciate music without a clean, graspable melody. So by that standard, Symphonies of Wind Instruments was out (though it did remind me of just how lovely clarinets can sound).

Then we moved on to a Debussy piece titled...it's too long to remember what it's titled. But we had a special guest performer to play the harp, and I am convinced that when I have mastered the trumpet and the guitar, my next instrument is going to be the harp. It is a hulking instrument but it is so lovely (visually and sonically), and it has such a special place in my heart. It has such a warm sound...and the Debussy piece was lovely (and lovelily played).

The Mother Goose Suite was also lovely, a perfect rise and fall of movements. What do I remember from it...? Maybe I remember the bassoon and oboe here too, or maybe that was the whole performance...I think the entire performance I came to appreciate the un-sexy instruments, the ones that the relatively quiet, uncool kids play in middle school. (I was one of them.)

Everybody's favorite was The Rite of Spring, and it certainly deserved a standing O at the end. I think I was expecting something crazy and unpalatable (like the first piece of the program), but in fact it was so well put/pulled together, with the pieces falling gracefully into place. Schick was doing his usual swishing on the podium, and there was so much energy in the performance. I wished I knew more technical terms to describe the piece and the performance, but I must say, I really enjoyed it.

(I did fall asleep during The Rite of Spring, but that doesn't mean I couldn't hear it...I am known to fall asleep even at loud concerts. Apparently not even The Rite of Spring could stop me.)

Brie. Like the cheese.

Today while at Trader Joe's I foolishly bought some goat milk brie. I should've known better. Brie is my favorite type of cheese, but the only form in which I can eat goat cheese is with a slather of blueberry or cranberry preserve around it (a version also available at Trader Joe's).

Now I have a whole rind of goat milk brie that I must consume. And I just happen to have a bottle of Merlot left over from dinners with Buddy over the weekend. What sadness (and detriment to productivity)...

Which reminds me, I must be careful to cut in wedges of angles measured around the center. Even if I am by myself, I cannot "cut off the nose" (or "point the Brie," according to Wikipedia) and commit some horrible social faux pas, can I? Or I wonder, if I am by myself, then maybe it's not a social faux pas, but rather, an asocial faux pas...

(The wine must already be getting to me...)

What I Mean When I Say "Japanese-American" Food, or, I Am a Horrible Cook

Yesterday I tried out a vegan panna cotta recipe from the Gochiso magazine I picked up at a local Nijiya store. By the time I finished making it I had been reminded of one fact:

I am a horrible cook. And I am an even worse baker.

In Yoshimoto Banana's Kitchen the protagonist describes how she had to learn patience to become a good cook. She had to take time to wash and cut things properly. She had to wait until pans heated thoroughly. She had to wait until things cooled down. She had to measure and weigh ingredients accurately. In the kitchen, to be a good cook, she could not rush.

Well, I'm just bad at that. In fact, I am horrible not only at being patient, but also at measuring properly, mixing properly, even getting the right ingredients together. I am too lazy to wash two bowls, so I just mix in one. I am too lazy and cheap to assemble the necessary ingredients, so I make (often fatal) substitutions. If a recipe calls for sifting flour, I won't even bother making it.

But there is one thing that does get me to make things: the thought of wasting food, or put more bluntly, knowing that something will spoil unless I use it—now.

That was what led me to make this vegan panna cotta. I've only had soy milk spoil on me once in my life, and I was not going to let it happen again. So there I was, Saturday morning, making vegan panna cotta.

The recipe reminds me of what someone said about Japanese-American (or was it Hawaiian?) cooking: Every dish must contain tofu or jello—or both. Of course this is a lie, but I do like the Tofu Key Lime Jello Pie that my family friend always made for us (and for which she gave me the recipe, and upon remembering it, I think I'll have to make it soon). Anyway, here is the recipe from Gochiso, and below is more play-by-play of the disaster that transpired in my kitchen.


Tofu Panna Cotta (recipe by Kei Hasegawa, printed in Gochiso magazine)
Makes 8 servings

1 silk tofu
1 cup soy milk
2/3 sticks agar [the kind from a Japanese store]
1 cup maple syrup
1/3 cup olive oil
Peel of 1 lemon
Black nectar [that's molasses, right?], to taste, for sauce

1. Soften the stick agar as instructed. [At Japanese stores it's called 棒寒天.]
2. Heat the tofu in the microwave and turn into a paste using a whipper.
3. Drain the stick agar and combine with soy milk and lemon peel in a pot, heating to melt the agar. Bring to boil.
4. Once (3) boils, add to (2) while straining.
5. Add maple syrup and olive oil to (4) and pour into preferred mold(s). Chill.
6. When chilled, cut to preference and dress with black nectar [or molasses, if I'm right].


I'm sure the real thing is lovely. My version was not so felicitous. I'll start with the smaller disasters and move my way up.

- One cup maple syrup might be too much, though this is hardly a problem, since I love excessively sweet things. But for what I made, I think I could've used less. (Of course I didn't have molasses anyway, so without the final sauce, this was just fine.)

- I didn't have agar. I'm sorry, this was already non-vegan before I got started. I used gelatin powder instead (with a "sell by" date of 2009.09.29...but for gelatin powder, does it matter?). I think it didn't matter ultimately, but I felt a pang of guilt making vegan panna cotta with gelatin.

- Since I didn't know what a whipper (ホイッパー) was, I used a rubber spatula to make a paste out of the tofu. Except that was hardly possible. (Also, I should've drained the heated tofu before I attempted to paste it.)

- I didn't have a lemon, so I used an orange. And instead of using peels I grated it. That was just my misreading of the recipe. It made for a sweeter taste, not as refreshing as it could've been.

- Rather than straining the soy milk mixture into the tofu, I attempted to "strain" the tofu into the soy milk. This wasn't such a bad idea (since the tofu was hardly a paste at this point), except that it wasn't possible.

- Since the combination of the tofu and soy milk mixture hardly looked ideal, I used a hand mixer at that point to blend it together. Then I thought, "Oh, maybe this is what he meant by 'whipper.'" (Indeed, a Google Image search for ホイッパー calls up whisks and hand mixers. ::sigh::)

- After adding the olive oil (the one good choice I made—using the Persian Lime flavor EVOO that Buddy's mom got me for Christmas) there was a disturbing film of oil at the top of the mixture. I had no idea how to get rid of it—hence the film of oil at the top of the ones in the photo.


All this made a mess of me and my kitchen. I tell you, I am sticking to my Campbell's soup casseroles and tofu/Jello pies next time.

[P.S. I must say, however, that the recipe is great: Despite my lack of cooking skills, the final product tastes good—creamy and sweet, surprisingly light. If I had treated the tofu more thoroughly, the visual texture would be even better as well.]

"Death is cheap. Life...is precious."

Last night Buddy and I returned to the Belly Up to follow up on our Lisa Hannigan live success with yet another winner: Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks.

Ah, my favorite Solana Beach venue with the Laser Eyes Shark. When we got there the opener was already playing—Ty Segall...and I'm assuming the three other people who make up the band "Ty Segall." I'm always made happy when I hear bands that can change something in the air with their music. And with Ty Segall (the man and the band), each time they started a new song it was as if something clicked into place—and with music that I can only describe as being rock-ish (in a good way), they seemed to be doing something interesting up there on that stage. As in, "Hey, these guys are doing something interesting." It was a good thing.

Each time I see Stephen Malkmus I worry that he's going to snap in two, he so much resembles a twig. But Buddy and I were quite happy with the music we heard last night, with so much energy that I don't know where Malkmus gets it from with that frame of his. As much as I enjoyed Ty Segall, the performance by Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks (must say the whole band name) felt that much more mature, that much more...clean. Organized. Pulled together? In a loud and rambunctious way.

Mirror Traffic is a fun album, the few times I've gotten to listen to it (not counting last night's live). What live could we go to next? Maybe something at The Casbah...

Ah, Kindle.

I was reading an issue of Newsweek from November 2007 (I know, I know) and its cover story about the (then) brand new Amazon Kindle. (This is why I love reading old issues of Newsweek. I know who wins the 2008 election!)

The story discussed Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos's venture to improve on the book (which should not be confused with making it go away). Bezos's argument is that, while books are great and can hardly be replaced, they can be improved by going digital—with added features and conveniences. With a single Kindle it's possible to read numerous books, connect to the Internet to purchase new ones, read the daily paper, change the font size of any text, and perform other nifty tricks that we can't with a traditional book. These factors make sense, but the question remained in the article: Is that in fact an improvement on the traditional book?

From the perspective of interaction design, Bezos and the Kindle team emphasized the ability of the book to "disappear" during the reading experience—a magical feature they wanted to replicate with the Kindle. Back in 2007 apparently the jury was still out on this question; I'm curious to see what's happened in the four years since. (Since I've never operated a Kindle, I couldn't say.) I think I can name instances in which my MacBook has "disappeared" when I was really into reading something onscreen...so the replication seems not impossible. But still, I like that I can give and receive books (with handwritten messages inside!) and also borrow and lend them—which is another kind of social networking that can't quite be replicated by e-readers.

Pure and Rare

I often wonder how some people come to make things, how they get the desire to produce something (new, creative, beautiful, etc.) out of pieces, materials, ingredients—things—around them. Homo faber seems to be a label only for some (but then I should find out what "make" means in that context), since I've never known what that process feels like.

My friend is someone who makes jewelry, and I've often wondered about the processes she goes through to move from conception of a piece to its production. (You can see her work as Purea Accessory here and here. Yes, this is a plug; no, she did not put me up to this.) Where does she get the inspiration? How does she make her hands move so as to realize the idea that was born in her head? Once she finishes making something, does she ever want to go back and change it? Is a piece a "success" even if it deviates from the original vision? I wonder.

Like many hobbies, I am also curious when something becomes a job or an occupation, as opposed to something one does for fun or to pass the time. I wonder if the process of "making" changes, or becomes laden with a different meaning? Would it be more responsibility, something more negative and burdensome? I wonder.

Regardless, if you are looking for jewelry, I have now introduced you to one possible option for a designer/creator/maker. (The image is of her necklace with egg-shaped white freshwater pearls on a gold-filled chain. ::sigh::)

a Very Short Introduction

A couple of weeks ago I read Jonathan Culler's Literary Theory: A Very Short Introduction (from the Oxford University Press series) for the fourth time. (I've made it a habit to read it every fall ever since I came back to school.) I thought maybe it would help me think about theory a little bit more productively, but...no such luck. (But that's my own fault, not that of the book...)

Culler organizes the book (very short indeed, clocking in at 132 pages for the main text) not by schools of thought but rather by the approaches those various schools take to examine different topics. So, by moving from topics such as sexuality to the meanings of sentences, Culler explains how different theoretical frameworks enhance our understanding of the objects we study, as well as our understandings of the theoretical frameworks themselves.

The book helps me most by reminding me of the important texts I should be reading (or...should have read three years ago). The book is from 1997 so it's been a while, but many of the fundamental texts remain the same, for obvious reasons. And of course, there is always the fun of reading a Very Short Introduction. Who wouldn't want to read one for The Earth, or Quantum Theory, or The Mind? Seriously.

it is not funny to think of a jens lekman song right now.

I saw a reference to (what I guess) is an article by Karen Kelsky titled "Intimate Ideologies: Transnational Theory and Japan's 'Yellow Cabs'" in a chapter from Trespasses, a collection of works by the late Masao Miyoshi. Kelsky's article was published in a 1994 issue of Public Culture, and it discusses the topic of "Yellow Cabs" popularized by the (Japanese?) media and referencing Japanese women who choose to enter into casual, sexual relationships with non-Japanese men (for various reasons).

Since I read the article quickly (i.e., shallowly) I've probably missed its nuances; its argument, however, seems to be this: that Japanese women seem to challenge traditional Japanese ideologies of gender (and race) but in fact ultimately reinforce those hierarchies of Japanese and "Other," male and female, etc. by their behavior as "yellow cabs" (which, as Kelsky notes, is a derogatory term; so I apologize, but I, too, use it only for economy). Kelsky states, "Both sides of the debate between Japanese women and men over yellow cab behavior share a commitment to reaffirming the utter otherness of the Other, the unbridgable gap between Japan and the West, the centrality of Japan in the universe" (475).

Reading this made me want to read (more) works by the writers she references, mainly Yamada Eimi, Ieda Shoko, and Murakami Ryu. Except now I am paranoid that I only want to read them because I want to reinscribe ideologies of racial and gender hierarchy. Oh no... But what I mean is, I am fascinated by practices that can be critiqued as being not really upturning social orders at all; and I am also fascinated by those very critiques that can challenge or be complicit with the problematic practices of area studies. (I am not saying that Kelsy's critique is one or the other; I am just trying to practice thinking about the pitfalls of area studies and transnational studies...)

how to decreases your chances of being "let go": everybody, somebody, anybody, nobody

i remembered this years ago and found it posted on yet another blogger site. since i'm sorting through remnants from my past, i'm going to repost it here for safekeeping...

--
An important job had to be done and Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it. Anybody could have done it, but Nobody did it. Somebody got angry about that because it was Everybody’s job. Everybody thought that Anybody could do it, but Nobody realized that Everybody wouldn’t do it. It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.
--

ah, language. i think i heard it for the first time in elementary school, and it took me a while to process (because of all the pronouns). i'm not much interested in its moral teaching, i just find it amusing (for its humor and commonplaceness).

As American Electorate Changes, So Must Campaign Strategies

To say something productive about a book after reading only one out of its eight chapters is unwise, especially if the book is in an academic subject about which I know so little. But a confluence of curiosity and time limitation leads me to do just that.

The study in political scientist Marisa Abrajano's Campaigning to the New American Electorate: Advertising to Latino Voters examines English and Spanish TV ads directed toward Latino voters in the United States during the 2000–2004 election cycle. The book discusses the theory of information-based advertising and the practice of ethnic political campaigning, and it argues that, while these are common practices in election campaigns, they often bear unintended consequences and have undesired affects (from the viewpoint of the candidates) because of the heterogeneity of the Latino community which the campaigns target.

What interests me here is not the main point—that personal and political characteristics of the members of the Latino community vary, and thus ads directed toward a monolithic "Latino" community do not have optimal effects in swaying their votes—but rather how the various ads (depending on the language in which they are created, the channels on which they are aired, the population segments to which they are directed, etc.) construct the various "pockets" of the Latino community to which the candidates try to appeal. How do candidates (and their campaign managers) pin down the different personas to advertise to? How might these practices apply to campaigns directed toward other ethnic communities in the U.S.? What do people really learn about politics through TV advertisements?

I am fascinated by this idea of "advertising" candidates (and their policies) to the voters. The commodification of political candidates seems an interesting process, and I wonder what other things we can commodify, particularly through the use of ethnic marketing campaigns. (I have mixed feelings about the religious materials that get left at my door that are written in my native language. How do they know?!) But even more I am drawn to the idea that Abrajano raises very early on in the book: "Latinos have yet to reach their full political potential" (4). In that case, how do we create an environment in which they can participate fully, in which they have access to (better, if not perfect) information? What do we do about matters of citizenship and voting rights to begin with? And what to do with the others in the U.S. who watch TV ads like these but cannot vote (but still have to pay taxes, darn it)?

Lisa Hannigan @ The Belly Up Tavern

returned earlier from a phenomenal performance by Lisa Hannigan and band along with John Smith [who opened the evening (and was also part of said band)] at the cozy Belly Up. it was phenomenal in a small way—small not because it was insignificant, but because it was intimate and perfectly content with the microcosm that was the tavern this evening. this is what i call a good musical suspended moment.

Lisa H. opened with a song on neither her first solo album Sea Sew nor her brad new release, Passenger. and what a song it was. the band followed with almost the entire Passenger album peppered with several (of my) favorites from Sea Sew. the crowd was sure happy to hear "I Don't Know" (which she performed on the Colbert Report). they ended the encore (appropriately) with "Safe Travels (Don't Die)." nice.

couldn't help picking up the two John Smith albums that were on sale at the merchandise table, since i am a sucker for music produced by a man with a guitar. or a woman. or whatever.

(image thanks to www.lisahannigan.ie > photos)

mountains @ The Tin Can Alehouse

On Monday (9/26) the Royal We saw mountains at the Tin Can down on 5th Avenue. What a cute venue; they even sell my favorite gluten-free beer there.

The mountains performance was stunning—makes one wonder how exactly they decide to do what, when. The sound the duo produces is at once immense and intimate. Seeing them live was an experience to be had again, when the opportunity arises.

first!

though it isn't, really...