New Leaf #1: Cooking

It's nice to get back into the swing of things in the kitchen. It's even nicer to get back to trying to make healthier, more delicious versions of old restaurant staples. Behold, Palak Tofu.

Palak and saag paneer are my Indian comfort foods, yet even when I had the time, I put off making it because I'd heard rumors that a food processor was involved. The horror! Cooking for me is an organic, funky, sensory affair rather than a high-speed, motorized clean-hand endeavor that gets the job done with the touch of a button.

I've been experimenting with protein shakes daily as of late, which has put me in frequent contact with my mini food processor. Since it was already out, I decided I might as well throw some spinach into it and make my favorite dish once and for all. Once I got into the thick of things, though, I realized processing was unnecessary for my purposes--I always prefer the chunkier versions. The result: a solid B+! Needed more garlic.

A new old leaf

It's a new decade, for both me and the Gregorian calendar. Whether it be developmental, chronological, or sheer serendipity, a new leaf has most certainly been overturned at this stage of my life cycle. I've freed myself of the capitalist prison where so many evolved thoughts, vivid dreams, and loud laughs have no place to flourish. The proletariat is just no place for someone who has no respect for the bourgeoisie.

Regrets are for the weak, which I can be sometimes. I regret that my internal fearmaster told me that I have to enter a capitalist prison in order to be able to disclaim it, my intuitive knowledge being insufficient to justify my disparagement of such things. I can see the logic (how many stalks of empty bamboo can one person be, lol?!), but it's been a grueling and painful ride indeed.

Whew. Thank goodness for new leaves.

Home Furnishings

A few months ago, Facebook was besieged by a plague of lists wherein people would share things about themselves. Not usually one to engage in mass hysterics, I would have sat this one out per usual, but my sister suggested we should both participate out of familial duty since our cousins had expressed interest in our doing so. Of course, I ended up the George to her Jerry, detailing various perceived idiosyncracies about myself in a painstaking act of reveal-thy-self, while she never quite got around to it. Bah humbug.

In that list (see below), I mentioned that home furnishings stress me out. Example: behold my teacups! I love them, but the thought of having to keep up with them and ensure their safety as I move from place to place is enough to make me want to just sell them off right now.

The List 25
1. Facebook stresses me out sometimes (case in point right here), as do doormen, home furnishings, and non-hair-related conversations with hairstylists.

2. I recently discovered that my abdomen has an onion intolerance, not the six embryos I had originally suspected.

3. I used to think I should live without regrets, but now I think that my regrets teach me important life lessons.

4. I start counting my regrets at kindergarten (because my pre-school self just didn't know any better).

5. All of my regrets involve interpersonal relationships, which I am terrible at navigating (but I'm sure you already knew that).

6. My first regret stems from the first day of kindergarten, when I was so relieved that Amy Smialowicz asked me to play that I am quite sure that I did not turn back to wave goodbye to my mother.

7. My second regret is that I never thanked Amy Smialowicz for asking me to play.

8. I attended four colleges in four years.

9. I resent all the other April Changs in the world for diluting the powerful cachet attached to my name.

10. A placenta once fell onto my shoe. The stain just recently faded.

11. I have a recurring nightmare where I fail my childhood piano teacher.

12. I'm interested in living in a commune of people who are successful, intelligent, and don't make me vomit. Please send leads.

13. I secretly wish everyone knew about my blog.

14. I took a weekend trip to Los Angeles with nothing but a carry-on suitcase and ended up staying there for a year.

15. I went nuts wearing my entire wardrobe when I returned from LA, but now I want to go back to having no belongings.

16. I grew up watching almost 40 hours of television per week.

17. Some jobs I've had: blueberry picker, street hustler (of comedy tickets), Pepsi Challenge promotional photographer, birth doula, nanny, telemarketer. This list is still growing.

18. Masseuses always tell me I'm flexible and have soft skin, but I think that's because they're used to hairy old people.

19. I once had an eyelash that was 1.5 inches long. I wanted to submit it to Guinness, but I couldn't find a photographer with both the skillz and willingness to photograph my novelty act.

20. As a child, I tried to domesticate a fly by trapping it in a plastic container and naming it Fred. To my horror, he died a few days later.

21. I also once used my Care Bear stuffed animal to mop up spilled apple juice.

22. And would stuff half-eaten hot dogs under the couch.

23. And would bite the edge of an oblong throw pillow and thrash it around while calling it a hot dog.

24. Self-checkout terminals have allowed me to live out my lifelong dream of being a grocery store clerk.

25. I have four alarm clocks and can sleep through all of them.

Jobs for Me

The following is a list of jobs I think I could enjoy, in no particular order (culled from the results of a 5-minute quiz on The Princeton Review's website):

• set designer. coincidentally, i wrote a paper on this career option in 9th grade, much to the dismay of my uptight Advanced English teacher). but n.b. this would have to be for sets for projects with meaning because ultimately i couldn't stress out about where Gwen Stefani's video screen was.
  
• florist. would have to develop green thumb. but like the contribution to aesthetics this job would provide. plus, clear opportunity for own business and distinguish self from rest (competitive spirit satisfied).
• mediator. a little ho-hum, but easy transition from current job. plus, opportunity for own business. one-on-one counseling element satisfied and working on something with meaning/respected/non-frivolous.
• trial lawyer. i'm surprised at this one because i have recently realized i detest selling/persuading others (either you see the light or you don't). one-on-one counseling potential, respected work, but ho-hum.
• writer. yep. but enslaved or free agent?
• secretary. but too high stakes because your principal relies on you for everything.
  
• professor. but need to know too much? satisfies prestige, respectability, non-sell-out but not a sucker, get one-on-one counseling element and showmanship.
• nutritionist. but low on the rung--why not doctor. = respectability in question. one-on-one counseling/imparting knowledge satisfied. field of interest.
• fashion designer. yes. i'll take this to include jewelry. but uphill battle w/ $.
  
• cosmetologist. yes. i'll take this to include estheticians. one-on-one counseling. work of value. aesthetic-oriented. own business opportunity. potential to school everyone.
• comedian. yep. uphill battle w/ $.
  
• college administrator. yes. one-on-one counseling (if student services/residential related). academic environment = respectable.
  
• career counselor. yes. one-on-one counseling, imparting knowledge.
  
• artist. see fashion designer.
• antiques dealer. own business, specialized knowledge, public-oriented.
• actor. see comedian.
  

Ambling Through Rambling Thoughts on the Role of Work

Thus far, I've been approaching my working life as a series of experiences. This is not borne out of a conscious effort--it is simply the way I see the world. I struggle a great deal with the idea of work. Apparently it is necessary in our society--it is what we do with ourselves. So for me, what I do with myself has been a series of thoughtful adventures--ways to bide my time. But ultimately, all this time-biding begs the question: do I want to keep racking up narcissistic trophies to showcase the panopoly of things I've done, pursuing novelty job/career paths but never fully investing in any one of them? Or, do I want to actually produce a life's work. Work that gets enriched by experience. And the answer, I believe, is a no to the former and a yes to the latter.

And here is where my impatience enters. I hate the idea of further wasting precious experience-gaining years on novelty acts and vanity jobs. My current job is the beginning to a marvelous career, complete with intellectual challenge, ample recognition, and financial rewards. But ultimately, I don't want to have lived my life in this career. The thought of even spending two years in this field petrifies me.

What, then, is the solution? How should I make money instead? Should I make money pursuing my creative interests instead or in addition? My initial plan was to pursue my creative interests in addition. But woe is me, I failed to realize the folly of that plan--to work in this field is to work at minimum 40 hours per week, which for me leaves precious little time for much else.

Aside: I have recently been giving much thought to energy levels and individual success and compatibility with others. We each have our own energy level. Matching of energy levels is important for compatibility, but do those with low energy levels succeed or achieve less than their high-energy counterparts? They most certainly would be less prolific. But a singular piece of high quality work can be enough. I would consider myself to be someone who possesses a moderate energy level. This means I can work 55 hours/week and find time to do other activities, but the other activities can probably only amount to about 7-8 hours at the absolute maximum without me feeling like my life is falling apart, and even then, I don't feel like my household is running properly.

I think the solution is to find a less demanding job that will still allow me to:

1. get out of debt and
2. have time for creative pursuits

and the goal would be to eventually transition out of that job entirely and focus 100% on the creative pursuit.

Potential less time-intensive jobs:

• career counselor
• admissions officer
• RA
• job recruiter
• non-profit job

When to shift:

1) In 1.5 years, after credit card debt paid off?
2) In 20 years, after I have firmly established myself as a respectable member of society?

Remember: extreme early retirement.

Dairy Diary

This week in Dairy Diary, I deviate slightly from the established format to (1) answer a question I posed in Entry 1 and (2) discuss that more frequently produced waste product: URINE.

Dairy Diary: Homeless Defecation and Urine

1. What do homeless people do when they get diarrhea? While I do not have an answer to homeless diarrhea, I am now the privileged owner of an answer to homeless defecation. Much to my dismay, it seems other homeless people have not yet gotten wise to the utility of a plastic bag-cum-toilet. On my way out of the Lexington Avenue station of the E train the other day, I peeped a homeless squatting on the edge of the platform dropping feces directly onto the floor. Tsk tsk!

Aside: If homeless people had dogs, they would soon learn the beneficial uses of plastic bags, and maybe then we could avoid getting fecal matter onto subway platforms. Plus, area animal shelters are overburdened as is. Providing each homeless person in NYC with a dog could therefore be a cost-effective route to enhancing the quality of life of all New Yorkers.

2. Urine. I have taken to guzzling R.W. Knudsen's Just Cranberry juice of late. Though it leaves a disappointing aftertaste that is not unlike that which is left in the mouth after an episode of vomiting, its rapid and salutary impact on the bladder and urinary tract absolutely cannot be denied. Two snaps up.

Hipsters Gone Wild

Two weekends ago, I walk-jog-scurried to my apartment building at 3:45am to find a disheveled damsel asking me to let her in because she had "just been attacked."

A white male wearing a white fedora with a black stripe had thrown her to the sidewalk and tried to snatch her purse.

You know times are hard when hipsters have stopped being ironic and started giving in to their baser needs. Now where can I get some pepper spray?