Two Years

Katrina: Two Years Later.

Herpreet

My friend Herpreet and I probably met in the ninth grade, but we didn't become friends until the tenth grade. We had biology together, and we spent a lot of time writing notes and romance novels back and forth to each other and obsessing over boys. We were always friends after that. We always had a special friendship beyond the chaos of high school and college even though we hadn't grown up together and still had our old lifelong friends. We are still kindred spirits even though we haven't always been in close touch. She is one of those people with whom that feeling of closeness never fades; it always reappears the moment we reconnect over Thai food or coffee. Ten years ago, we froze all night on the sidewalk together with Shelley in line for Rent. Her wedding five years ago remains the best wedding I've ever been to. She has two dogs and a nice husband. We were taking a Shakespeare class together in college the semester they fell in love, and I remember actually witnessing the transformation of a person falling in love. It was a beautiful thing. She is, quite simply, one of my favorite people. She is also a writer, and now she is writing online. And the internet and the world are better for it. Her first entry is here, and her second entry is here. Feel free to go say hi. Herpreet is a good person to know.

Thoughts before midnight

Tonight my little brother and I drove to our aunt's 70th birthday party. It took us way longer each way than it was supposed to because both times we took the wrong route. It took, like, ridiculously longer that it was supposed to. We had been driving for an hour or more when we came to the sign that said we had 61 miles left -- the trip is only supposed to take an hour and 20 minutes -- and we burst out laughing because it was all that we could do. We passed towns we'd never even heard of. It was surreal. I thought we were driving to the ends of the earth.

Here are some songs we sang to pass the time, either along with a CD or the radio. I just want to write them down so I will remember.

--The first CD of the Rent soundtrack (original Broadway cast). He went to see Les Miserables on Broadway recently, after Daphne Rubin Vega had left, and he said, "If I would have had to hear her sing 'I Dreamed a Dream,' I think I would have died."

--"Vogue" by Madonna.

--"Don't Take the Girl" by Tim McGraw.

--"Hold On" by Wilson Phillips.

Already I am forgetting all of the songs. It was pretty great to see our cousins, aunts, uncle, and so forth. My sister wanted to come but was felled by a horrid cold that I think was brought on by her body's revolt of being driven from New York city to here on very little sleep. Hopefully she is sleeping soundly and will feel better tomorrow because she surely needs to go out for a pizza bagel. Soon she will be out of this country and far too far away from me. I am choosing to ignore that at the moment.

I am sleepy but awake. Overwhelmed with uncertainty following a school orientation about what the hell I am doing taking these graduate classes and what it would really mean to change careers at this point in my life when I don't even know if I want to? What? The fuck? Is the color? Of my fucking parachute? Feeling so amused by my little brother with whom I have so much utter fun. Feeling moved by all of the old photographs at my aunt's house and awash with memories of my late uncle standing over the stove making really good baked beans and watching my cousin get dressed for her wedding in an upstairs bedroom when I was eight years old. Telling her daughter this as the memory occured to me, wondering immediately after if it caused her hurt to tell her I watched her mother get dressed for the wedding to her father to whom she is no longer married. My cousin's daughter is a very sunshiney person, and I like her quite a lot. My other cousin showed me all of the wonderful artifacts in that upstairs bedroom -- the bed his father was born in that he is now sleeping in, a tackle box his father made as a little boy, an amethyst rock he stole from Pike's Peak one day in July when it was snowing, the toys belonging to his mother, my aunt, and her sister, my other aunt, that were found in his grandfather's car after he was killed in an automobile accident when the little girls were babies. That kind of stuff is what life is made of. They are "just things," but they are so precious.

It's all so precious. All of it, all of us.

Summer

Summer. Summer is so hot. It's still really quite hot. Hot.

I've always remembered Pamie's entry about moving in with someone, so I went to her archives and found it. Here it is. It's still very funny.

So far, we've lived together for 2.5 weeks. We haven't killed each other or any of the animals yet. We baked honey whole wheat banana walnut bread in his bread machine. We made this in the crock pot which continues to taste much better than a Weight Watchers recipe should. I think it's the mango chutney. It's just so good, and I don't even like mangoes. We watched season two of Weeds. We ate sushi and played 80s trivia with friends. Somehow B. got the "Tim" and I got the "Reid" on the answer to a question about a WKRP in Cincinnati actor's show, Frank's Place. That was some good teamwork. He's been studying mostly every waking minute; I've been lying on the couch sweating and wishing the So You Think You Can Dance tour would come to my town.

I started going to my crazy exercise class again because I can no longer button my shorts and I need some endorphins released pronto before I melt away with summer blahs. It has been good to go back. I recognized most of the people there my first time back, the old faithfuls. It is still very painful and sweaty but not in an altogether terrible way. The teacher still shouts, "Love yourself." The gym is a bit like Dante's inferno, but I'm bringing a big bottle of water and drinking from it every few minutes. My shins hurt me so badly when I tried to jog very slowly around the gym for sixty seconds that I cannot believe I once ran 13.2 miles in a row without stopping. How did I ever do that? I'll never know. I wiped sweat out of my eye with my hand, which had just gotten someone else's sweat on it from a sweaty, sweaty mat, and I marveled at my ability to ignore germophobia while actively struggling to catch my breath. Sometimes breathing is more important than cleanliness, you know? And that is why I should probably keep going to this class. Being covered in other people's sweat reminds me that other people aren't walking around trying to make me sick and that their bodily fluids are much like mine. I am crazy; it is true. I also like how people meet eyes across the gym. I'll be doing some insane abdominal exercise and on every sit-up I'll meet eyes with someone on the bike across the gym and she'll be peddling like crazy and looking either empowered or about to die and it's sort of silently acknowledged that there are only sixty seconds to this round and please God we will all make it through until the teacher yells for us to switch. There is a camaraderie there. I am inspired by the fast, lean, incredible hardbodies and by the slower, more overweight people who all seem to be working equally as hard. It's all just sweaty and hot and inspiring and I don't even care how fat my stomach looks or how completely uncoordinated and ungraceful and unathletic I am when I'm there because at least I'm there sweating to high heaven and trying.

I am taking some classes myself this fall and went through a credit card debacle with the bookstore wherein they charged my card four times the price of my textbooks and thus threw my checking account into jeopardy of being overdrawn. So that was a joyous way to start the semester.

Sometimes internet dreams do come true. The entire Days of Our Lives 1986 Thanksgiving episode is now up at YouTube. When we were kids, we would always have Thanksgiving at my aunt's convent, and my brother, sister, and I would sneak upstairs to watch the show every year after lunch on a communal nun TV. And this was by far the best Thanksgiving episode of Days of Our Lives that we ever clandestinely watched. It was flashback bliss.

My latest internet hope is to somehow find a video or a recording of Shawn Colvin singing "Try to Remember" on Broadway's Best on Bravo. Sometimes I wonder if anyone but me even saw this show. But it was a beautiful, heartbreaking rendition and I'd love to hear it again. (There are few clips of the special up, such as Mandy Moore singing "Adelaide's Lament," though the audio is kind of uneven in this clip and makes her sound kind of off. I remember her doing it quite excellently, though.) I'm just putting it out there in the universe so hopefully one day this song will magically re-enter my life.

Eliz.'s Fave Songs (1989-90)

In 1989-90, I was clearly obsessed with certain Christian pop music and the soundtracks to Say Anything, Sing, When Harry Met Sally, and TV's Beauty and the Beast.

SIDE A

1.) Beauty and the Beast season 1 opener.

Video is here. I was pretty obsessed with this show during its three seasons. I basically had an emotional breakdown when a certain character died and then when it was cancelled. The soundtrack was my major consolation.

2.) Secret Ambition by Michael W. Smith.

Video is here.

3.) Romance by Paul Carrack & Terri Nunn.

I cannot believe that this song has a video and that it is available. It's too good to be true. There isn't nearly enough footage of Sing in it, in my opinion, but I'll take it.

4.) It Had to Be You by Harry Connick, Jr.

When I first discovered him via When Harry Met Sally, I could not believe that my state was lucky enough to claim him. Even though this soundtrack made him super popular across the country, I had to practically beg people to attend his concert with me that fall with the 3 tickets I somehow had. I guess he wasn't too hip with the 9th-10th graders back then. Video is here. I still have the t-shirt from that concert. It is full of holes, and it is the softest t-shirt I own.

5.) Say Once More (Live) by Amy Grant, Gary Chapman, and Michael W. Smith. Okay. This is from a live show they did 1988 or 1989. It was on VHS, I know, and a cassette tape was released. It had about six live songs on it, and they were all pretty fantastic. This is the only one I have as an mp3, and I'd basically kill for the rest. I've searched online for years for copies of the VHS or cassette, with no luck.

6.) Keeping the Dream Alive by Freiheit MüNchener.

Video is here. This is from the Say Anything soundtrack. I'd never seen these guys until looking up this video today -- wow. Awesome.

7.) Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid.

Video is here.

8.) Emanuel (Live) by Amy Grant.

Also from A Moment in Time.

9.) One More Time by Michael Bolton.

This is from the Sing soundtrack. I was always bummed that they let that NTAC Michael Bolton record the song for the soundtrack because I loved the version in the movie so much more. According to this article, the version in the movie was performed by Gene Miller. I haven't heard it in years, but I loved his voice. I loved this whole part of the movie. Someone put it on YouTube, okay? Thanks.

SIDE B

1.) Variations on the Kanon by George Winston.

The link to the clip of this song on his website is playing the wrong song, so I'll use this one instead. It's called "Joy," and it's basically his version of "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring," and I think it is very pretty.

2.) Pray for Me by Michael W. Smith.

(I already wrote about this song here.)

3.) We'll Never Say Goodbye by Art Garfunkel.

I'd like to publicly thank reader Erica for sending me the mp3 of this song. I have no idea how she found it, but I am SO thrilled to have it. If I figure out how to post it here, I definitely will.

4.) And When She Danced by Marilyn Martin and David Foster.

(Homemade) video is here. I still love this song with all of my heart. It makes me think of my older brother and his white Mustang. With his major car stereo system, this was the kind of song he sometimes blared in our driveway. It was beautiful because we could listen to it and not fight for three minutes and think silently about leaping off piers, flying high in the air, hanging out with the wind, drifting with the clouds with the moon full and the sea wild, meeting our lovers high on a cliff and swooping down into the ocean and swimming all the way and touching the bottom, up through the dark water and breaking the surface, then flying to Jamaica for Pina Coladas, and how much better that would be than high school.

5.) El Shaddai (Live) by Amy Grant.

Also from A Moment in Time. So, so pretty. I must find these songs again somehow! Help me, internet.

6.) I Could Write a Book by Harry Connick, Jr.

7.) Friends (Live) by Amy Grant, Michael W. Smith, and Gary Chapman.

The ultimate end of camp song. Also from A Moment in Time. Shelley and I went with our moms (and my sister?) to see Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith in concert in either 1988 or 1989. We were in the eighth grade. We were really madly in love with him, there's no denying it. At least I was. Here's a video. It's not the version on the AMiT tape, but it's pretty much exactly what he was like when we saw him in concert and swooned. Like the audience members in this video, I think we probably put our arms around each other and swayed.

8.) The First Time I Loved Forever by Lisa Angelle.

Video is here.

9.) Dragon Princesses by Ron Perlman.

That's what I always called this before I knew it was from Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure this is it in French. (The passage that starts, "How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are the beginning of all peoples? The myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses ...") I cringe now, mostly, watching these cheesy clips, but if nothing else, this show introduced me to Rilke. And who doesn't need a little Rilke in her life?

Songs 87-88

I am listening to "Songs 87-88." A classic mix tape if ever there was one.

SIDE A

Lots of blur and 20-year-old tape messiness, then ...

1.) In My Dreams by REO Speedwagon.

Video is here.

2.) I Think We're Alone Now by Tiffany.

Truthfully, I still sort of like this song. I don't think this is the official video, but here's some kind of video involving a mall. (Here's Robin Sparkles for good measure.)

3.) Heaven Is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle.

Video is here. I do not remember it being this bizarre. Belinda Carlisle looks very pretty, but the people in blindfolds? Dancing with the globes? Weird. I really loved this entire tape in the 8th grade.

4.) I've Got My Mind Set on You by George Harrison.

Video is here. I have a vague memory of my mother really liking this song.

5.) Shake Your Love by Debbie Gibson.

Like Belinda, I also wore out this tape. Video is here.

6.) FAITH BY GEORGE MICHAEL in all caps because apparently this is the song I love the most to this day from this collection. Video is here.

7.) Push It by Salt-n-Pepa.

Video is here. I remember being very proud of myself after committing the "Salt-n-Pepa's here, and we're in effect ..." verse to memory.

And then dedications. Just the kind of wonderful stuff that makes sitting here going through these tapes on this wretched walkman worthwhile. Every night when the radio station counted down the top 8 songs of the day at 8:00, they would take phone dedications. We called a lot. Here's one from someone else on the tape: "To Caleb from Danielle. I hate you so much and I resent what you said about me." I don't remember the nasty dedications, but apparently they were allowed.

And then the dedications on the tape … become so awesome that I almost cannot fathom it.

Here are ours. (Names of boys have been changed.) Please keep in mind that we were 12 years old.

Shelley: "To Joe from Shelley ..." (Hands phone to me.) Eliza: "And to Andrew from Eliza." Then in unison: "WE LOVE Y'ALL A LOT."

Next, dedications from another night.

Eliza: "To Andrew from Eliza. I love you so much." (Hands phone to a Mean Girl named Callie.) Callie: "And to Jeff from Callie and to Ben, I'll always ... [dramatic pause] love you." DJ: "Always?" Callie: "Always."

And still more dedications ...

Shelley: "HI!" (most excited "hi" ever heard on the radio) "Ok. To Joe, I love you so much, and hi to his cousin Jacob, from Shelley." (Hands phone to Eliza.) Eliza: "And to Andrew from Eliza, I love you a lot, and we want to say hey to all of our friends at school! Thanks!" DJ: "Boy, they were a happy sounding bunch."

AND THEN, THE BEST PART: "This is Shelley, and you're listening to Countdown '87! Here's song #79, Samantha Fox, Touch Me."

8.) I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For by U2.

Video is here. I was only first becoming aware of U2 around this time, partly due to Maryelizabeth and her always advanced taste in music and partly because of a conversation I had at Thanksgiving with my cousin, whom I idolized. I told him about my love for Whitney Houston, and he said he preferred bands like U2. I think I tried to defend her, and he said, "But Eliza. On the one hand, you've got I Wanna Dance with Somebody. On the other, you've got Sunday Bloody Sunday." I understood what he was telling me. And that is that I was very young, dumb, and shallow. But he did it with love. Weirdly, I've always thought my cousin looked a lot in the face like Bono. Maryelizabeth and I used to sing Running to Stand Still on the playground at recess. I'm sure everyone really enjoyed it. I know I was deep into Bono love by some point in 1987, because I wrote a paper for 7th grade English that if I could spend the day with anyone in the world, it would be Bono, sitting with him on a grassy knoll discussing how to bring about world peace.

SIDE B

1) I Wanna Dance with Somebody -- number 1 in Countdown '87.

Shelley and I went with Callie and Callie's mom to see Whitney Houston in concert in 1987. It was, needless to say, awesome. Video is here. Oh, how I loved her.

2.) Tell It To My Heart by Taylor Dayne.

Video is here.

3.) Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen.

Callie's mom also took us, incidentally, to see Dirty Dancing, much to my own mother's chagrin. Video is here.

4.) Cajun Rap Song by ??

5.) True Faith by New Order.

Very, very awesome video. And I still think this is a pretty great song.

6.) Honestly by Stryper (the Christian heavy metal band).

7.) Candle in the Wind by Elton John.


Listening to this tape has definitely been an enjoyable walk down memory lane. As embarrassing and silly as they were, it makes me extremely happy, twenty years later, to listen to our 12-year-old selves make proclamations of love to boys on the radio. At that time, Shelley and I both had braces and really big bangs, and I like picturing us lying on my bedroom floor with the rotary-dial phone (with the really long extension cord from my parents' bedroom because we weren't allowed to have our own phones in our rooms at that time) being total dorks. I have no idea what happened to Andrew. I think he might be an attorney. Meanwhile, Shelley's seventh grade love, Joe, is now a Christian rock recording artist.

Maryelizabeth, who first showered the light and love of U2 upon me, stopped by tonight, and we decided to look up this video. Fatigued by newborn-induced sleep deprivation, a three-year-old, an obese cat, a husband, and a job, she declared, "This video is the most inspiring thing I have ever seen." Old friends + old music = love.

Closed hearts, open hearts

I took both pups to the vet the other morning at the same time -- what a fiasco. Daisy's microchip injection bled all over the place, Zuko's poop juice got all over the vet's outfit during gland expression, and Daisy peed all over the room. It took me, the vet, the vet's wife, two vet techs, and a muzzle to wrestle Zuko into submission during the gland procedure, and he was still thrashing like a maniac. It was awesome. $300 later, they are both vaccinated and chipped and checked and all good, though Daisy needs to have her teeth cleaned and has once again not taken well to her vaccinations at all. She's hobbling around, can barely use one of her back legs, and did not even bat an eye when both cats entered the room and perched not too far from her. Normally she would be in full chase mode. I feel really awful for her, but I keep telling myself this happens every year and not to freak. Next year I might reconsider loading them up with all of these shots. What is the point, really? Zuko cried all night after the appointment and would only stop if I went to lay on the couch. And Daisy was just pitiful yesterday. I can't really bear it.

Last night, I made this recipe, and it turned out pretty well. I used light instead of fat free sour cream because life is too short, and I served it over gemelli noodles because it turned out that my bag of brown rice was full of little dead bugs. Also, it was the first time in my life I'd ever bought sausage that wasn't made by Boca or Morningstar, so it felt like a turning point. (It was Healthy Choice smoked sausage.)

Meanwhile, the neighbors' dogs broke through my fence again, leaving the neighbors' "barricade" as a pile of fallen cinderblocks (safe!), so I don't know what in the hell to do. B. thinks I should call their landlord, which I am leaning towards doing because as soon as Daisy feels better she is going to bust through that gap like Seabiscuit.

Meanwhile, I got my computer back from Apple for the 2nd time. Hopefully the disc drive is now fixed. What is not fixed, however, is that certain things on the internet remain invisible. Such as: where a YouTube video is supposed to be, there's no video. It's just comments. Or where Myspace songs are supposed to be on a band's Myspace page? Not there. Or any embedded video on websites? Not there. No "x" inside a square, no empty space, nothing. Just .. not there. Even trying to change my buddy icon in Flickr, where you drag the square on the photo, you know what I'm talking about? That doesn't work either. I've googled my face off and can't find anything about this, talked to several different Apple people about it, I wrote in detail about it both times in my little notes to Apple when sending it in for repair, and nada. This cannot be that hard to fix? Right? Frustration. (Update: Apparently, all evidence to the contrary having spoken to at least 3 other technicians about this, it is not. All I had to do was check a box that says "enable plug-ins." Thank you, Aaron at Apple, who just helped me through this over the phone!) (My sister just had an amazingly positive experience with Apple that almost restores my faith in corporate America. I'm not kidding.)

Lately I've been feeling very tired and crappy. Partly because my dog worries and ailments are keeping me up nights. Mostly I think I blame the heat. It is so oppressively hot. Nobody can deal with it. We all try to have conversations about how hot it is. In the elevator, on the phone. But there aren't that many original and newfangled ways to say how hot it is. So people just say over and over, "I can't believe how hot it is. It's -- unbelievable." And the other person says in defeated misery, "I know." I have to walk across the street to sign something in another office, and I told the guy I'll have to do it first thing in the morning before the sidewalk starts boiling. He agreed, insisting it's far too hot to make that walk. It's, like, literally across the street. It is a 2-minute walk. That is how hot it is. I can't really form coherent thoughts. I think things like, my house is messy. Weeds is funny. I wish I were as sexy as Mary Louise Parker. How have I gained 10 pounds since last summer? My dog is crippled. I hate my neighbors. Golden Grahams are the best food on earth. Sandy and Dennys are both likeable and annoying at the same time in Many Waters. I wish I could say "take me someplace cool" like they said "take us someplace warm." I can't concentrate long enough to read an actual book. So I lie on the couch and do things like watch The Hills. I'd never seen this show or any of its related shows before this week, and all I can really say is that I don't understand. Is it scripted? Or not? The heck? It's confusing, and it frightens me that there are (a) people like that in the world and (b) young kids who actually watch that show and think that's what your twenties are like. Gross. I'm not sure tonight is a good night to finally watch The Pianist. I'll probably just watch The Nine although if we don't find out by the end of this show what actually happened I am going to be some pissed. And -- great. it looks like they're no longer going to show the final episodes over the summer. Thanks a lot, ABC.

I had a really nice talk with Jessamyn today. We agreed to do something nice for ourselves tonight, be kind to those we love, and start tomorrow with open hearts.

Because I have not been feeling supremely serene lately due to the heat, the dogs, not having my computer, the non-sleep, and so forth, here is a picture to remind myself that I am capable of serenity and that surely I will experience it again soon.

Needles & Nicola

I’m getting a little sick of the needles, to tell you the truth. One arm got stuck with a tetanus shot and one with a meningitis vaccine, and OW. They both hurt like they were hit with a billy club. I can barely lift either of them. I think it’s getting a little better, but I am a side sleeper, and I haven’t been able to sleep on my side for the past two nights, and that makes me unhappy indeed. And this morning I got a TB skin test, which wasn’t too bad but also not what I’d call a delight.

I reread I Capture the Castle recently, and it was as wonderful as ever. I lifted my boycott of the movie and actually bought it since neither Netflix nor my local video store carries it. I was really skeptical of Romola Garai as Cassandra after realizing she was the lead in Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights, but then I found out that she played the friend in Vanity Fair and I remembered liking that performance, so I gave it a go. I was really interested in seeing Bill Nighy as Mortmain, and that was what cinched the deal when it came to my viewing of the movie. Here are some random thoughts: Marc Blucas has no charisma. He never has, and I doubt he ever will. I could not stand him on Buffy, and he was certainly not as dashing and semi-devilish as I always pictured Neil to be. But he was okay. Not terrible. Handsome, but blandly. Not exactly a nuanced performance. As for Henry Thomas as Simon – in the book it’s pointed out that since Neil is from California and Simon is from the East Coast, they speak differently – and Henry Thomas does definitely sort of speak in a very refined and proper way. It’s kind of annoying, I have to say. I really, REALLY loved him in Legends of the Fall (it’s true) and God knows he was a genius in ET – seriously (watch his ET audition here – it’s sort of devastating) – but he did not do a whole lot for me as Simon. I remember being confused in the book as to why Rose and Cassandra were so horrified by his beard – I always thought, what is the big deal about having a beard? But in the movie, it is clear why they were horrified. As I told mo pie already, it is a heinous, hideous goatee. Maybe it turns out that I just kind of hate the character of Simon and think he is unworthy of either Cassandra or Rose. Topaz was not like I pictured her, but the actress was good so I got over it. Rose Byrne was actually excellent as Rose and cried and emoted very well, but I was pretty distracted by her wig. Cassandra was very well played by Garai. Bill Nighy as Mortmain – well. I’m just not sure. I guess I liked him. I think Stephen is supposed to be blond. The book says that he sometimes has a daft look about him, so I pictured him sort of as a Chris Klein type. He’s got brown hair in the movie, and the actor playing him does a nice job.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about the movie. So I sat down to watch the commentary, and that made me like it more. It made it clear that the film was very lovingly adapted, cast, and made by people who were definitely aware of the magic of the book and how deeply it is loved. So – I am going to give it a thumbs up. No movie based on this book could ever truly do it justice, but this one is a respectable effort. The castle and the scenery alone make it worth watching, I think.

Meanwhile, The Best of Youth is a good six-hour Italian movie if ever there was one, but my boyfriend’s hard drive died while we were watching it on an airplane so part of me will never forgive Matteo and Nicola for that. The computer place said his data=irretrievable so they replaced the hard drive. We still might try Drivesavers or something per Amanda Page’s suggestion because I refuse to give up hope yet. Meanwhile, he can’t get his iPod to sync up or whatever you call it now that the new hard drive is in. His iBook is from 2005 (or something) and the newer versions of iTunes are screwing it up. Like, his relatively new shuffle needs one of the newer versions of iTunes, but only older versions are simpatico with his operating system? I feel like I am speaking a foreign language so I might not be using the right words. I am not exactly sure what the problem is. Has anyone ever dealt with this before?

Meanwhile, my new favorite bookcase:

Stupid Mexican lasagna recipe

My mom used to make a really good Mexican lasagna sometimes when we were kids. I decided I needed to make something like it, so I Googled it and tried the first recipe that came up, a recipe by goddamned Rachael Ray. And I don't even dislike Rachael Ray like the crazy haters out there. I'd never made one of her recipes before, and I can't say I'll be jumping at the chance to do it again.

First, I looked at two stores for ground chicken, one basic store and one specialized fancy store. No dice. So I got ground turkey. Which was $6 a pound, and the recipe called for two pounds. I should have taken the meat costing $12 as a sign that this recipe and I were not going to get along very well because I am kind of a cheapskate. Then, it called for a "large skillet." I think my skillet is fairly large, and there is no way it was going to hold two pounds of turkey, a can of black beans, a cup of corn, half a red onion, a cup of taco sauce, and a can of stewed tomatoes. So I ended up dirtying the skillet and then dumping it all into a giant gumbo pot. I spiced the heck out of the mixture -- OR SO I THOUGHT -- with more cumin and chili powder than the recipe called for, plus plenty of salt and some garlic powder and cayenne pepper thrown in of my own accord for good measure. I used the stewed tomatoes with the jalapenos in them. I used the black beans seasoned with garlic. I used the Mexican cheese with the peppers and spices in it.

And did this Mexican lasagna, despite my best seasoning efforts, have any taste whatsoever? No. No, it did not.

I don't know where it all went wrong. I don't know if most people who gave this recipe five stars just really like bland food. But this is not the first time this has happened to me, and I am not sure if I am just used to more flavorful food down here or what. I think I might blame the ground turkey. Maybe ground chicken or ground beef would have worked better? Who the hell knows? When the best thing about a meal is the bagged damn salad, it's depressing.

Maryelizabeth has advised me from now on only to use recipes by Louisiana cooks because they always include things like chiles and other spicy and zesty wonders.

Meanwhile, I've decided this recipe is jacked up in general. It says it makes 4 servings -- maybe 4 servings if you are Hagrid. The two of us have each had at least 3 servings already, and more than half the pan is still full. PLUS, the filling of the lasagna (meat, corn, beans, tomatoes, etc.) was way too much for the pan to hold, so I have a giant leftover bowl of it that I have no idea what in the hell to do with because we'll be eating the lasagna for days and will have no chance to use it in some creative way. I guess I will try to freeze it and then use it with rice or pasta or omelettes or something later. RIDICULOUS!

Damn you, Rachael Ray.

Road Trip

Sometimes you decide that you are leaving the next day for a road trip. That happened to us on Thursday when my boyfriend decided we should go to Oxford and Memphis for the weekend as one last hurrah before life changes come about soon. So we did! And fun was had.

We left on Friday morning for Oxford, where we stayed at the too charming to be believed Puddin’ Place. I loved everything about it – the room, the bathroom, the porch – and renamed it Puddin’ Palace in my mind. It was an easily walkable distance from the square and was just lovely.

We had drinks on the balcony of City Grocery that afternoon and strolled around the square, stopping at Square Books, where I bought The Road, and Square Books, Jr., which Melissa would love and where I bought I Am the Messenger by Marcus Zusak, author of my beloved The Book Thief, after having a rousing conversation with the staff about His Dark Materials and all of the books they think I should read -- Octavian Nothing, House of the Scorpion, and Snowflower and the Secret Fan. (If anyone has read I Am the Messenger, can you please e-mail me? I feel like I really need to discuss it with someone as soon as possible.)

That night, we went back to City Grocery for dinner, which was very good except for the rabbit special. I am not really sure what possessed me to order rabbit for the first time in my life other than it was served with saffron risotto, which sounded really good to me at the time. I don’t know if rabbit is supposed to basically be made of fat and be pink and raw, but this rabbit sure was and I don’t believe I’ll ever be eating rabbit again. We shared an excellent salad and soup, though, so all was not horrifying at City Grocery.

The next morning, we had a great breakfast at Puddin’ Place – orange muffins, fruit/yogurt/granola parfait, and a great frittata. Overall, big thumbs up. We walked back to Square Books for a coffee and one last bask in its comfortable and wonderful atmosphere. Then we drove to Rowan Oak, the home of William Faulkner. Which was quiet, peaceful, pretty, in the middle of the woods, and totally cool.

We said what the hell on our way into Memphis and decided to stop at Graceland before going to our hotel. Graceland was the opposite of Rowan Oak. It was just … Graceland. If you’ve been there, you know what I’m talking about. We bought our tickets and milled around for an hour and a half before we could line up for our shuttle across the street. Then we waited in line for a while. Then we went on the tour. Which was all very neat-o but also kind of gross and sweaty. The horses were pretty. My favorite thing was a petition framed on the wall of signature after signature of people asking Elvis to play in Brooklyn. Graceland was exhausting. We did eat a garden burger (me) and a peanut butter and banana sandwich (him) in Rockabilly’s, which was random but fun. We agreed that we put more into Graceland than we got out of it and that we will never go back but that we definitely had to go. (For a much more entertaining account of Graceland, go here.)

We then checked into our somewhat gross and quite plain hotel room at the Sleep Inn, but it was the only one downtown for under $100, so there you go. The afternoon is kind of a blur of hotness. What did we do? Where did we eat? I don’t even know. Oh, yeah. We walked down Beale Street to scope out the scene and I got a giant strawberry snowball, which I spilled all over myself.

At around 5:00, we headed to the lobby of the Peabody to watch the ducks process into the elevator, which was quite cute. For dinner, we headed to Rendezvous, where approximately one million people had come also to dine, but the whole operation of the mob was run very smoothly. We only had to wait about thirty minutes for settling down for dinner, where we ate ribs and barbeque chicken nachos and pretty much went into a barbeque fugue state with dazed eyes and sauce on our faces. Damn, that was some good barbeque.

We went up to the roof of the Peabody to check out the sunset and then we cruised around Beale Street before going to Blues Hall to hear Dr. Feelgood Potts and his band play. They were pretty awesome. We also spent a fair amount of time in A. Schwab’s, the oldest business on Beale Street, a store which seemed to have everything and nothing and which I loved very much.

Soon it was time to collapse and get up the next morning for Sun Studio! We decided to walk there and ended up pretty lost and blind in the scorching sunlight, one desolate block after the next. We stood on a corner debating whether to find a cab (his vote) or walk back to the hotel in defeat before getting mugged (my vote) when suddenly a bright blonde woman named Sally in an SUV with a W sticker on the back stopped to offer us a ride. We hopped in with her and her two beautiful daughters and they drove us right over. It was truly one of those angels on earth moments and reminded me that Bush people are people, too. Thank you, Sally of Memphis! All I can really say about Sun Studio is that it beats Graceland by a mile. (Read the Lesters’ account here.) I really loved this tour and felt way more into the spirit of Elvis and the birth of rock and roll than I did at Graceland, and our guide, Shawnie, did a fabulous job. This is the sort of tour that gives you chills. I recommend it.

And now we are home. And as of yesterday, home = a place we live together. Holy shit! He is starting a new path in life, and we’ll be living in the same city for the first time. I’m excited. I’m glad that we got to hang out with the ghosts of William Faulkner, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, and so forth before settling into this new existence. I like to think they are singing to us from the great beyond and wishing us luck.