Veggie Tales: Spicy Tomato Soup

It must be fall because today I had the inexorable urge to cook a big pot of soup.  I was intrigued by the scrumptious looking Trader Joe's roasted red pepper and tomato soup but deterred from buying it due to the high sodium content and amount of unnecessary additives including added sugar.  So I made this incredibly delicious September starter that's low in salt and high in yums.  

Roasted Pepper and Tomato Soup
{makes approx. 10 medium servings}

1 medium onion, chopped
5 cloves of garlic, minced
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 large can whole plum tomatoes
2 tbsp smoked paprika
1 jar roasted peppers, drained (I like the tri-color ones from Trader Joe's because they don't have added sugar)
3 cups chicken stock
juice from one lemon
1 tbsp dried basil
1/2 tsp each - garlic powder, dried thyme, ancho chili powder, and onion powder
1 or 2 tsp cayenne pepper (or more or less to taste)
1/4 cup whole milk or half & half
salt and pepper

Saute the onion in olive oil for about 5 minutes until translucent, add the garlic and a little salt and pepper and cook for another 2-3  minutes.  Add the tomatoes (with the liquid), paprika, and peppers.  Bring to a boil and simmer for 10 minutes.  Puree the mixture in the food processor in small batches and return to the pot.  Add the chicken stock, lemon and herbs/spices and return to a boil.  Simmer for 10 more minutes.  Remove from heat and add the milk, salt and pepper to taste.  Serve with a spoonful of Greek yogurt and some crushed red pepper flakes (Mike's idea!) to make it even creamier and spicier.

Memoir-palooza

I may have mentioned before that I am not usually an avid reader of fiction.  I usually find myself so bogged down in professional literature and research that just getting through the weekly New Yorker that's delivered to my mailbox seems like an arduous task.  (I skip the fiction issues and the fiction stories in the back unless they are super interesting after the first two paragraphs.  I'm a slow reader and constantly have piles of half-read New Yorkers on the coffee table and night stand.  It's embarrassing.)  I would, generally, just prefer to read things that are real.  

This summer I read a few books: a small stack of amazing memoirs that I've really really enjoyed.  I think you should give me some memoir recommendations, as I am obviously obsessed with the genre.  And I think you should read some or all of these books.  Here's the rundown.  

 

Geography of the Heart by Fenton Johnson

I heard about this story in February when Maureen Corrigan, the NPR book critic, gave it a rave review.  I must say, that lady never ever steers me wrong.  If you catch her making a recommendation, immediately purchase that book and prepare to love it.  Geography of the Heart is a sad but beautiful love story.  The writer falls in love with a teacher named Larry.  Larry has AIDS and we know from the beginning that he will die.  Johnson paints such a lovely and reverent picture not just of their three year long romance but of their individual and collective history.  Maureen said in her review that this book would have a lot to teach its readers about love and for me that was surely true.  I dreaded the end of Larry's life from the very first page, but when it came, I dreaded even more the end of the book, the end of Johnson's eulogy, the end of that permeating sense of love and gratitude that you are left with throughout the entirety of story.  It also didn't hurt that Johnson is a simply brilliant writer - the book is just chock full of elegant and gorgeous prose.  

Wild by Cheryl Strayed

Travelogues are certainly my most favorite of the genres in literature.  Wild was really popular this summer and for good reason.  This book is what would happen if Liz Gilbert's Eat Pray Love and Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods got together and had a baby.  Being that I adored both the aforementioned books, it's no surprise that I became thoroughly enamored their love child as well.  Strayed writes of how she found her sense of self worth and grieved the end of her marriage and the loss of her mother while hiking solo along the Pacific Crest Trail in the summer of 1995.  I had never heard of the PCT, but Strayed describes it as the less traveled Western version of the Appalachian Trail.  This book single-handedly got me re-interested in camping and (mildly interested in) backpacking.  

A Good Man by Mark Shriver

This is a book that every Catholic ought to read.  It would also do well as required reading for any parent and anyone who has parents.  It's just good stuff, people.  "Markie" Shriver, nephew of Jack Kennedy, shares remembrances of his father, Sargent Shriver, with grace and gratitude.  The book's main premise rests on the idea that it's much harder to be a good man (/person) than it is to be a great one.  Great men aspire to new heights and accomplish big things in their professional lives.  According to Mark, Sargent Shriver was much more than your everyday great man.  Mark describes the accomplishments of his father's work (the founding of the Peace Corps, the expansion of the Special Olympics) but insists that Sarge's enduring legacy is that of a loving dad, husband, and grandpa.  Throughout the book, Mark refers to Sarge as Dad and Daddy instead of "my dad" or "my father," and this has a profound impact on how the reader comes to know the Shriver family.  The lessons Mark learned from his dad are laid out in a semi-chronological and slightly repetitive manner that explicitly highlights what Sarge thought of as most important: faith and family.  

The Road of Lost Innocence by Somaly Mam 

I must admit that I am still finishing this searingly matter-of-fact account of a former child prostitute from Cambodia. It's been hard to get through.  Not because it's poorly written or because it's boring but because it's a horrifying picture of how mean-spirited and heartless human beings can be.  Mam was orphaned before she could ever develop memories of her parent, then she was bounced around in make-shift foster care for most of her childhood until she was sold by her supposed grandfather to a brothel in the city.  She talks of the horrors of her early life without a hint of self-pity and says things like "that is just how things were" a lot.  For us privileged barangs (westerners/white people as we're known in Cambodia) this resignation can be incredibly difficult to comprehend.  I am just now getting to the point in the story where things turn around in favor of Somaly.  In her late teens, she becomes a sort of Harriet Tubman and begins to rescue girls from the brothels and help them start a new life.  Today she risks her life regularly to continue this crusade against human trafficking (which she regularly refers to simply as slavery).  In the foreword, New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof says "more women and girls are now trafficking into slavery annually than slaves were transported to the New World at the peak of the transatlantic slave trade." I am astonished on every page as Somaly discusses the scars on her physical and emotional person in the same breath that she talks of how she learned French and English and how, only a few months out of the system herself, she rescued the first of so many girls and paid for her sewing lessons. (Somaly's foundation today has trained and employed hundreds of survivors of sexual slavery.  You can buy beautiful and affordable gifts made by some of these women here.)  Somaly is haunted by her past but refuses to have her life defined by it.  She is fundamentally humble and unassuming, but anyone who reads her account will know instantly that she is a hero if ever there was one.  

Next on my list is this book, which I'll listen to via audible.  

Have Mother, Will Travel by Claire and Mia Fontaine 

I think I like memoirs so much not just because they're real, but because they remind me that no matter what's happening in my life, my own struggles, experiences, and accomplishments have been so beautifully and terribly tiny.  I am very grateful for that reminder.

Sweet

Yesterday colleagues and I took the kids to Lake Compounce, an amusement park sponsored by Pepsi where you can get free, unlimited soda all day with your admission.  Before letting them jump into the wave pool and scream on the roller coasters, I gathered my group and essentially begged them to please stay hydrated by limiting the soda intake and drinking water.  As I laid out my plea, the kids jokingly rolled their eyes at me and started finishing my sentences in chorus.  They have spent the year listening to my occasional tirades on the diabetes inducing "drinks" they sometimes insist on buying and bringing to school, namely those 99 cent Arizona "juices" and "iced teas."  (The quotes are truly necessary because few edible liquids on earth could be father from juice than the crap inside of those brown bottles and tall tin cans.) In some city neighborhoods, you can find even more horrifying substances bottled for kids to consume, called quarter juices. The labels lists no ingredients but water, food coloring, high-fructose corn syrup, and the occasional chemical.  GROSS.  Oh, and they only cost 25 cents, hence the nickname quarter juice.  Thankfully my kids don't drink those nasty things, but they're out there nonetheless, fostering sugar addiction in really young children.

This past week, our Mayor announced that he wants to ban all sugary drinks over 16 ounces within the city limits.  Arms are up.  (I love the way The Young Turks debate the issue here.) A few years ago, New York tried to put a tax on soda and other sugary drinks to create revenue and hopefully discourage the purchasing of such horrifying substances.  No dice, the legislation failed, but it revealed some scary, scary things about people in this country.  There was one commercial that was no doubt sponsored by coke or pepsi or some other drug-dealer posing as food-supplier.  It had a mom who was complaining about how "juice would be taxed too, not just soda."  There was another ad that declared "the pennies add up when you're trying to feed a family." It's clear: we Americans have no idea what we are putting into our bodies.  We don't bother to read labels, we accept advertisements as gospel, and we eat and drink thoughtlessly, with utter disregard to what our bodies need to function and thrive.  Anyone thinking big bottles of soda and other high-sugar drinks should be part of "feeding a family" need a serious and immediate wake-up call.  As a society, we are obsessively seeking convenience.  Our priorities are warped and illogical.  We choose a fancy car and a designer bag over a nice neighborhood and a complete meal.  For most of us, these stupid decisions to focus on material goods over quality of life are not made consciously, but they are made nonetheless and they affect the health of our bodies, minds, children, and economy.  Many people don't consider why things like soda and junk food are so cheap.  It boils down to a simple cliche: you get what you pay for.  If you are more concerned with the cost than the quality of food, you ought to expect to look and feel like crap for most of the hours of most of your days.  Unfortunately, we are so diluted by the pill-popping, convenience paradigm that we don't even realize how truly sick our society is.

When tobacco advertising was phased out we saw a similar uproar that was (unsurprisingly) spurred by and stirred by the tobacco companies themselves.  So is anyone shocked that people are reacting badly to Bloomberg's so-called soda ban?  Any critically thinking human can infer that these responses are fully pressed by the drug-dealers (food producers/providers).  If you're consciously making the straight-up dumb choice to drink soda all day, go forth and be sugared up.  However, as adults we have more to consider than just ourselves and our current state.  We are supposed to be caring for the future as well.  Do we want our children to be part of a productive, competitive, and healthy workforce or do we want them to be riddled with sickness for the rest of their lives?

If you are an adult I really don't care how you abuse your body - smoke, drink in excess, use drugs, eat crap, poison yourself in any way you see fit.  You are sapping our economy, wasting our oxygen, and contributing to raising healthcare costs, but I can let all that go.  What I cannot and will not get down with is exposing kids to any of this abusive behavior.  Our government protects kids from tobacco by disallowing the ads that clearly targeted them; we have a drinking and a smoking age to discourage young people from making stupid choices and discourage companies from turning kids into hosts for their parasitic profits.  Few such regulations exist for protecting our kids from food companies whose moral compass points to the same false North as that of Phillip Morris.

Throughout the day yesterday between asking me to hold their money, glasses, and towels, many of my kiddos ran up to me with big smiles on their faces and clear liquid in their cups. In a tone and inflection clearly designed to gently mock me, they giggled and shouted "look what I have," and "it's water, Ms. Haskell!"  Children should be exposed to information about what they're putting in their bodies and encouraged to make good decisions about eating and drinking.  Since they often are not exposed to such knowledge, someone has to take on the responsibility of keeping them from going into a diabetic coma before they turn eighteen. If that someone turns out to be Bloomberg or "bigger government," then fine, because I could really use the help.

Doing Better

Yesterday my kids took a quiz on integer operations, a topic I have never taught in-depth with sixth graders (it's a seventh grade topic).  The quiz wasn't easy, but the vast majority of the kids in both classes performed to the best of their ability, and many of them did 100% of the work correctly and completely.  When I handed back the quizzes today, the responses I got on both ends of the spectrum were exactly what I love to hear.

Can I come up at lunch and get extra problems? -G scored 70%
I can't believe I missed that negative sign! -T scored 90%
I'm getting better at this. -K scored 65%
Do you need help in after school this week? -B scored 100%

I met my goal.  I want to get an 80 next time. -C scored 75%

But there was one reaction that really got to me, more than all the others.  A student who throughout the year has been a challenge for me behaviorally and academically scoffed and shook his head at the thumbs up sign I gave him when I returned his 80% paper.  I gave him a look of confusion to which he replied, "I can do better."  Not so long ago, this student would be thrilled with a D, and sometimes perfectly content with an F on quizzes, tests, classwork, and homework assignments.  No more.  He examined his quiz meticulously and called me back over.

HERE!  This is mistake I shouldn't have made.  I forgot the rule that a negative divided by a negative is a positive.  I must have rushed through that question.

It's easy to blame everything wrong in our lives on external factors.  It's easy to avoid holding ourselves responsible and just blame something - or someone - else.  Does that mean it's hard to own up and step up?  I told him that since he used the same rule correctly on two other questions, he probably did rush through it, but now he'll remember to take his time, even when the question seems basic. He agreed and went back to work on designing story problems for multiplying a positive by a negative.  

Forty minutes later upon giving back the corrected quiz he repeated, "I can do better, Ms. Haskell.  I'm going to do better."  

Is it harder to solve a problem than it is to complain about it? Is it more difficult to maintain faith and resolve than it is to give up and despair?  My experience tells me that the good and bad options require the same amount of emotional energy, but one side of the coin leaves you inspired and hopeful while the other simply sucks the life out of you.  So is it hard to own up and step up?  No.  My kids can do it, and so will I.  I will be better too. 

To Be a Skeeter

A few months ago I finally read The Help by Kathryn Stockett.  Correction: a few months ago I finally downloaded and listened to The Help on audiobook, and Mike and I recently watched the movie version.  (Those commercials about audible.com being super awesome are dead on, by the way. Cheap audiobooks are the only reason I've "read" any fiction at all in the last year.)  I loved the book and also really enjoyed the movie; the story touches something in me that's hard to describe.  While the ending comes off as a triumph for the protagonists, so much of the plot gnaws at me, disturbs me, and makes me feel very unsettled and self-doubting.

If you haven't read this book, you should.  It's about women living in Jackson, Mississippi in the 1960s, some of whom are rich white ladies, some of whom are black maids that work for the rich white ladies.  One of my main characters, Skeeter, is constantly being shown in increasing juxtaposition with one of the side characters, Hilly.  Hilly is a friend of Skeeter's who seems to be the big kahuna in their particular social circle.  She is head of the local women's league, organizes bridge games, and seems to be every other girl's best friend, all while making the most ignorant, spiteful comments about everyone around her, but especially the maids.  Hilly is an absolutely awful human being who presents no redeeming qualities whatsoever.  The confusion and lies surrounding race that have been thrust on her and her friends by their surroundings and upbringing is exacerbated by Hilly's intense desire for control and superiority, so she comes off not only as racist (because pretty much all the white characters in the book come off as racist to us) but as vengeful, vindictive, and just plain old deplorable.  Skeeter, on the other hand, ends the book looking like something of a hero, having stood up to the status quo despite the isolation it has caused her.  I'd argue the only heroes in this story are the maids; Skeeter faces friendlessness for her defiance but the maids risk their very lives to speak out about the unfairness that comes with being black in the 1960s deep South.  But that's beside the point.  The point is that by the end of the story, the reader (listener) sees Hilly and Skeeter on opposite sides.

It's easy for us to look at Hilly with contempt and anger, wondering how anyone could be so stupid and so mean.  When I think about the story of The Help I find myself praying with all my might that, had I been alive in such a time and such a place, I would be a Skeeter.  This is the root of why the book really sticks with me, the unsettling notion that I am, in any way, like Hilly Holbrook, that I am in with her lot.  I can't be an Aibileen, and much as I'd love it, I can't be a Minnie.  No matter how much I try to understand it, I'll never feel their struggle, and I'll never be as honorable or as strong as they are.  So while I abhor everything Hilly stands for, I have to face up to the fact that I am in with her lot.  I am white, I am privileged, I am lucky.  I face no challenges in life because of how I look or who I love.  I can choose to use my privilege wisely, compassionately, and humbly; I can be a Skeeter.  Upon recognition of my unfair advantages, I feel guilty and uncomfortable and a little ashamed.  So I keep trying to understand the struggle, with no firsthand experience of it whatsoever.  I continue to feel guilty, but that seems a pretty small cross to bear, comparably speaking.

Here's the thing: if you think history won't look at our generation's own malicious forms of bigotry the same way we scowl and cringe at Hilly, you are deluding yourself.  So, you have to stand up for your choice.  Hilly or Skeeter?  Yesterday or tomorrow?

...Which brings me to my final point.  Though none of us can say for certain that we would have been on the right side of history then, it appears that our President has {finally} picked his side now, and I am so whole-heartedly with him.  Obama/Biden(/Skeeter) 2012.

Veggie Tales: Slightly Sweet Sauté

I've already told you about my quest to eat more vegetables and how it has transformed my eating habits.  What I should also mention is that my skin, my attitude towards food, and my energy level have been equally transformed.  I've solved a myriad of minor health problems I never realized I had (swelling of the ankles and knees, non-hormonal acne, occasional indigestion and heartburn) and I'm now all about the green stuff. 

Tonight I marinated a pork tenderloin and Mike grilled it like a boss when he got home.  It needed accompaniment, we needed vegetables, and I needed something other than salad or broccoli.  So I threw together this super easy, super delicious green thing that complimented the pork oh so nicely.  Check it out. 

Spinach and Artichoke Sauté

Makes about 6 servings

5 cloves garlic, minced

1-2 tbsp olive oil

1 lb. frozen spinach

10-12 oz. frozen artichoke hearts

1/3 cup raw pepitas (pumpkin seeds)

1/2 cup golden raisins

1-2 tbsp lemon juice

salt and pepper

Use a cast iron skillet if you've got one, just because those things are awesome and they distribute the heat infinitely better than anything else.  Pour some olive oil into your pan and sauté the garlic for about a minute.  Add the artichoke hearts and let them brown up for a bit. (Next time I'm going to try roasting the artichoke hearts in the oven and then adding them at the end because they are so yummy roasted.) Once they're softened and browned, mix in the spinach little by little, allowing it to cook down.  To your veggies, add the pepitas and raisins.  Heat everything through and add lemon juice, salt, and pepper to your liking.  Basic, beautiful, and nourishing.  

Want

Last week I covered a Social Studies class with some of our sixth graders.  They are currently studying ancient India and we got to talking about the foundations of Buddhism and its influence on Asian culture.  The kids reminded me of Buddhism's big idea - that spiritual actualization and unburdened happiness could only be achieved by shaking the yoke of desire from our lives.  I don't think I ever really understood what that meant until recently.

It's so easy to live in this country and spend all your time looking up: to want a bigger apartment or house, to want more money or more things, to want and want and want until all you have to show for yourself and your life is stuff.  I am no different - I sometimes expend so much energy gazing upward that I forget about what is right in front of me.  I once read some article that cautioned people about the dangers of "as soon as."  As soon as I get a new car, I'll be happier.  As soon as I get a promotion, things will get better.  The truth is that most of us could think of scores of these types of statements pretty easily.  So I've decided to make the conscious and deliberate effort to stop this habit.  It's not easy, especially in this hyper-commercialized and materialistic society.  Have you seen this?  It was all over the place one day about a week ago when I happened to be feeling pretty down.  It's funny and does help to lift the spirits.  Remember this John Mayer song?  It's from the great movie Bucket List, and there is one part that really resonates with me:

Take all of your so-called problems

Better put 'em in quotations

Blessed.

Truth, Mr. Mayer.  Lately I have reminded myself: my life is freaking great, and I have no reason to ever feel sorry for myself.  Seriously - never ever.  God and my parents have always given me everything I need.  Therefore, I conclude that nothing could ever be so bad that I am justified in sulking around or complaining about my "so-called problems."  (And I don't mean to imply that your problems are also pointless and stupid, but mine are! This is me judging myself only.)  So next time I am having a bad day, or feeling the pressure of my first-world wants and my white people problems, I'm going to skip that cute website with pictures of funny animals and just remember the I haves.

I have love all around me from an amazing husband and the best family on the planet.

I have been born into extreme, undeserving privilege, where I have an unfair advantage over the vast majority of the world's population just by existing.  

I have plenty of money to put a roof over my head, feed myself good food, and buy superfluous stuff that I don't even remotely need.

I have wonderful friends and a really sweet dog. 

I have a fun, rewarding, and challenging job that keeps me on my toes and makes me a better person every day.

I have a great life.  

So many people have so much less, yet I want.  I don't know if I'll ever extricate myself from desire all together, but the simply process of remembering what I have is extremely helpful and does make me/keep me a very happy person.  So, shucks, I'm not yet enlightened and I haven't reached nirvana - not even close - but I have plenty of time to get there.

Reclining Buddha knows Nirvana.  Me not so much.

It Could HappenTo You

Unless you've been living under a rock for the last week, you're likely aware of the frenzy surrounding the current mega-millions lottery jackpot.  Nearing $600 million and resulting in long lines at corner stores and grocery counters, this enormous jackpot has been all over the interwebs and radio waves. 

Obviously the odds aren't exactly in your (or my) favor; I've heard they are estimated at about 175 million to one, making it more likely that you'd be struck by lightening twice than win the gargantuan sum.  Still, most people can't help but think..."it could happen!" And well, it could!

 

Remember this movie?  Nick Cage's It Could Happen to You was one of my favorite films of the nineties, reminding its viewers that in the end good things do happen to good people and chivalry and honesty are not actually dead just yet.  It's about a cop named Charlie who promises to split his potential lotto winnings with a waitress when he realizes he's short a tip.  As you might imagine, he winds up hitting the jackpot, seeks out the waitress, Yvonne, and he keeps his word.  My favorite scene takes place in the old Yankee stadium where our beloved cop and waitress take the neighborhood kids on a day trip to play some baseball.  (My affinity for Charlie may or may not come from the fact that even though he is from Queens he forgoes Shea in favor of the real New York ballpark.)  Charlie and Yvonne inspire dreams, not so much of the extravagance that comes with wealth (exemplified by the self-centered and wonderfully ridiculous Rosie Perez character, Muriel), but of the kind of love and kindness that supersede worldly aspirations for fortune.  It gives you the hope that there are still people out there who value humility, happiness, service, and graciousness.  It's sweet and heartfelt and I am a big fan of the message.

Don't get me wrong, that does not mean that I haven't played the "what if" game along with everyone else in Western civilization - I certainly have.  I've fantasized about buying a little farm overlooking the river and spending all my time caring for my animals, and I've daydreamed about how, with millions of found dollars, I could take care of the family that's alway taken care of me and champion a few other worthy causes.  If you haven't let your mind wander to such things I have very serious suspicions that you may be a robot.  

So what's on your jackpot wishlist?  As you indulge like I have in the $1 quick picks and office lotto pools, I hope you're lucky enough to recognize that life is already full of the better kind of riches.  If, like Yvonne, you're just waiting to catch a break and find a little more love in your life, I hope you still believe that whether you're looking for your own Charlie or your own personal jackpot, it could happen to you.  

Veggie Tales: Green Lemonade

Over the last few months, I have been actively consuming more vegetables.  I should probably say A LOT more vegetables; between Mike and I we go through over two pounds of greens and at least five pounds of other vegetables a week.  This new trend in my diet was brought on by an incredibly decadent holiday season filled with too much meat, way too many potatoes, and an absurd overdose of sugars that left me reeling upon return to school in January.  Now, several months in, I have entered into a complete hippy-like health food obsession, and a big facet of said obsession has been juicing.  

If you don't own a juicer I seriously recommend that you consider the investment.  I could never have imagined how much I would value one extremely heavy kitchen appliance.  I have this one courtesy of my awesome Uncle Joe.  I've also heard really good things about the single-gear nutrition center, but it is really crazy looking and I'm glad mine is a little less conspicuous.  A good juicer is costly but well worth the price. The concoctions I make with mine are delicious and jam-freaking-packed with nutrients.  Buy a high-end model that does the work slowly (omega is really the undisputed best brand) to make the best and most nutritious juice.  Mostly, I make vegetable juices, but I have also become accustomed to occasional fresh mimosas with Sunday brunch. Seriously, they are infinitely better than the ones made with tropicana.  

My favorite juice to make is green lemonade.  It sounds gross, I know, and to most people it probably looks gross as well.  

HA can you see Lols in the background? 

But it is so yummy.  Here's what you'll need to make two servings:

Bunch of kale

4 celery stalks

1 small cucumber

1 lemon

1 apple

3-4 sprigs of mint or a 1-inch chunk of fresh ginger

Cold water

Make sure the kale is washed thoroughly and throw your ingredients into the juicer in the order listed.  I add the cold water into the juicer at the end and then mix it all up before I pore it into glasses; that way I get every last drop of juice out of the machine.  Leave the stalks on the kale, the skin on the apple, cucumber and lemon, and leaves on the celery.  There are vitamins and nutrients galore in these parts.  If you've got a decent juicer, there's no need whatsoever to even core the apple.  

Kale is the king of all vegetables; it is literally one of the healthiest things available on planet earth.  Most people don't like it and that makes me sad.  It cooks up beautifully in soups, stews, and casseroles when paired with the right flavors.  If you eat it raw it has an absolutely insane amount of good-for-you properties, but I can't imagine anyone ever doing that because it is so bitter.  Its juiced form, however, is mild and versatile.  When you sip this awesome stuff, you taste the lemon and mint, and just a hint of the celery (while the apple keeps the juice from being overpoweringly tart).   If you are apprehensive about drinking vegetables, you can replace the celery with another small cucumber, and I swear this will taste just like a subdued version of lemonade.  The thing you lose when you juice is obviously the fiber, but I get plenty of that in my salads.  More posts on my weird eating habits to follow.  Stay tuned.  

Wanderlust

No, this post is not about the new Jennifer Aniston/Paul Rudd movie, though it does look pretty funny.  


"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. 
Dream. Discover.” 


Mark Twain has some of the best quotes out there on this little addiction of mine: travel.  Whenever I hear about or read about a place, I almost instantly find some quality about it that makes me want to visit.  This is especially true when it comes to the beauties of nature.  I love the mountains, waterfalls, beaches, rivers, and forests in a new place.  Most of the trips I take are pointed at seeing one of these natural wonders, and my February break travels this year were no different.  I flew to Phoenix with one of my best friends and met up with another to drive North and see the Grand Canyon.  They're not kidding, it's grand as can be.  

The photos above were taken from Cedar Ridge and Skeleton Point, 1.5 and 3 miles into the Canyon respectively.  Did you know that of the approximately five million people who visit the Canyon each year only 3% ever make it off the pavement?  The average time spent viewing the Canyon, according to our guide (Russ from Wildland Trekking: highly highly recommended) is ten minutes.  Ten minutes!  I know not everyone is as interested in nature as I am - I have been known to stand at the top of Anthony's Nose for several hours staring aimlessly at the Bear Mountain Bridge - but ten minutes?!  If you haven't been to the Grand  Canyon yet there is no way for me to explain how enormous and crazy looking it is.  Teddy Roosevelt called it "the one great sight which every American should see" and for good reason.  While we were hiking we had several great viewpoints, each of which seemed so different from the last going down and again coming back up.  So needless to say, I was shocked that anyone could sit at the rim for ten minutes, snap a few photos, and leave to never return.  We spent two days hiking in and staring at the Grand Canyon, and I could definitely stand to go back.  Our guide also told us that less than 1% of Grand Canyon National Park visitors ever sleep below the rim.  Of course now that I know that I'm dying to hike all the way down, spend a night at Phantom Ranch or at the campgrounds, and make the arduous trek all the way up the following day, just be to in that slim, slim minority. 


But  before I go back to the Grand Canyon, there are several other places I'm dying to see.  Isn't that the case for all of us?  What far off lands are on your list?  I am thinking that my next big trip will be to somewhere in Africa or to Turkey.  From my research so far, Turkey appears to be very affordable and very cool.  


One last bit: has anyone else noticed that everywhere you go, there seem to be Australians?  I think I was born on the wrong continent, because those people have a fervent love for travel that has made it into a national priority, and I'm guessing that they're a much smarter country for it.  So, on second thought, maybe the next trip should be to Australia.  

Losing Battles

OK, it's rant time.  In the last two weeks, there have been some really unnecessarily controversial news stories that have blown up the airwaves and the interwebs.  I have a lot of pent-up rage directed towards morons right now, and so here I'll attempt to exercise that rage and react to the ridiculousness that is the religious right.

1. Let's start with the craziest.  As the whole world knows, Komen for the Cure declared that it was pulling its funding from Planned Parenthood because the organization is currently under investigation (by a crazy lady in congress who's making outrageous claims about PP's use of federal funds.  All evidence points to her being completely and ridiculously wrong about all accusations).  Thankfully, this decision was overturned and the vindictive, overly imposing bitch who pushed for it has resigned.  The fact remains, however, that this was an absurd thing to have happened in the first place.  I was amazed and impressed that the power of social media pressured Komen to restore its funding, but why in the hell did it have to come to this?  Put this in your pipe and smoke it: 97% of the work done at PP is women's well care - things like breast cancer screenings, annual exams, and family planning.  Within the other 3%, yes, there are abortions, paid for by the private dollars of PP contributors (like me).  I believe that complete, unrestricted access to full reproductive freedom is essential if we ever want to live in a world where women and men can be considered equal, and that includes access to safe, legal abortions (because a man can do whatever he wants with his body with zero resulting consequences, and women should not be forced to bear that burden alone if they do not want to).  If you don't understand that point, that women need control over their bodies in order to strive for full equality, than you are either very naive and privileged, or a man, in which case I envy you for your ignorance as I humbly request that you keep your nose out of things you don't understand.  But let's forget the abortion debate for a moment (and not discuss the fact that by the time they're forty, nearly 1 in 4 women will have had one, most of whom identify as Catholic or Christian).  I'll continue to drive home the point that most of PP's work is well-women care, and often for women who have no place else to go.  Think about it - what kind of women use PP as their primary source of healthcare?  Rural, inner-city, and minority women who otherwise could not afford such basic needs as annual examinations.  These under-represented women need and deserve these services, some of which are undeniably life-saving.  The campaign against Planned Parenthood for the last few years is nothing short of racist, elitist, and a giant waste of resources, and again, people who don't understand that are naive and confused, and I'm envious yet again.

2. The announcement that Barack Obama wants all organizations to include birth control coverage in their health insurance plans for employees has put the Catholic Church on the defensive, and big time.  The Church claims that providing the basic ability to control when a woman becomes a mother is against their moral imperative.  They want to include exemptions to the birth control rule that include not just Catholic hospitals and Universities, but also any employer who identifies as Catholic and therefore is against birth control.  NEWS FLASH: 98% of Catholic women will use birth control at some point in their lives, and a majority of Catholics, according to a Pew research poll, believe that women should have access to birth control regardless of who their boss is.  The bishops and the Church in general have absolutely no ground on which to stand.  What's worse is the way the Republican candidates for President are treating this decision, calling it an affront to religious liberty.  You have got to be kidding me.  The Catholic Church's antiquated, ridiculous, and totally top-down stance on birth control is a more important freedom than that of a woman to prevent an unwanted pregnancy?!  I shouldn't be surprised, that's Republicans for you, and they are doing a great job capitalizing on this moment in favor of a Church whose members have historically been against the political leanings of the organization.

3.  Now that I've ranted and raved about women's rights for two long paragraphs, let's end with something happy that has happened in our country.  This week, California's absurd Proposition 8 was declared unconstitutional by a circuit court of appeals, and Washington State passed a bill for gay marriage that will be signed into law by the governor soon.  According to the court of appeals, the constitution "requires there be at least a legitimate reason for treating different classes of people differently."  Could it be any clearer?  Of course, the supporters of Prop 8 will try to take the case to the Supreme Court, but it's a meaningful victory nonetheless.  I am so thoroughly ashamed of every American who seriously thinks that gay marriage is something to be fought against, and in contrast I'm fervently proud to live in a state where marriage equality now exists. (I also admire our Mayor's campaign for equality before the NYS senate vote last summer - he called out the GOP stance against gay marriage as an affront to economic, legal liberty and said that those who continue to fight against marriage equality will soon find yourself on the wrong side of history.  So true.)

My point in all this is that no matter how you look at it, the religious right in this country has spiraled out of control in its hypocrisy.  If you are so religious and so into the sanctity of marriage and life, why don't you throw your time, energy, money, and resources at fixing a legitimate problem?  Start with childhood hunger, illiteracy, drug use, and domestic violence.  I am not saying that our nation's churches are doing nothing on these fronts, but I'm certainly saying that if they were to simply forgo battles like gay marriage and abortion, they could be doing a lot more.  And you simply have to face it; whether you like it or not, the religious right will eventually lose these battles.  The children of our generation will have access to full reproductive control, and they will be able to take part in whatever kinds of marriages they and their friends see fit, provided of course that the bigotry and closed-mindedness of their parents doesn't keep them stuck in the past.  The religious right has got to stop championing these positions that promote hatred and discrimination under the guise of morality and religion; they have it backwards (the GOP candidates calling on the first amendment to limit women's access to birth control is the first world version of defending female genital mutilation as a "cultural practice" in Africa).  When are they going to realize the obvious - these are battles against the inevitable.  Can they make life harder for a young black woman trying to get birth control, or a gay man trying assert his commitment to a partner?  Sure they can, but they won't, in the long run, be able to keep it up.  I wonder why there's no one in the party or the church who isn't too short-sighted to ask: is this something you want to be remembered for?

Is that hate-centric, ignorant set of beliefs worth millions of dollars and a monopolization of airtime and political debate when there are more important problems to which we could attend?  Not even remotely.

America's Game

It recently occurred to me that we are now nearly halfway through the National Football League playoffs, and while there's definitely something to be said about the post-season excitement, I can't help but be prematurely blue about the whole thing coming to a close.  Yes, the pun was intended and yes, I realize that we still have this year's conference games, Pro Bowl and Super Bowl to look forward to, but my ironically-timed melancholy remains.

Football is such a great game.  It's the only high profile sport that doesn't require its fans to devote countless hours to watching games all week long.  It takes the sting out of winter chill, brings us out of the grey sky doldrums, and lightens the stress and chaos surrounding the holidays.  Best of all, football's season opener coincides directly with that of the school year and, even for fans of ailing teams, week one issues in gratitude for a fresh start and encourages a rare and celebratory hope.  The worst part of football, then, has got to be when it ends.  And not just the fact that it ends, but actually when it ends.  After the Super Bowl, we wake up to a freezing February Monday, praying to everything holy that April will arrive swiftly, because let's face it, spring training is just not interesting enough.  Is it a coincidence that the seemingly endless period of time between the end of football and the start of baseball is also the most difficult stretch of the year in teaching?  I think not.  Perhaps schools give educators and students a week off in February as a way of saying "not gonna lie, the next month and a half is going to be rough. Sorry.  Maybe you should start watching college basketball so you can throw together a really bad bracket for March Madness."

I love football because it can be so emotional, melo-dramatic, and unpredictable week after week.  The experts are so often wrong (at rare times, they are even dead wrong).  The most obvious assumption so frequently get flipped on its head, and then flipped back again over and over.  Elite teams can positively crumble to scrappy, persistent-as-hell little brothers, the season can turn on a dime, and Kansas City can at once be the first team to the lose to the Dolphins and the only team to beat the regular season Pack a handful of weeks later.  No where else does this sort of thing happen in such a short span of time, with all the action packed into the weekends.  There is simply nothing like this game.  And when your team is in the running to pull an upset, deliver on a presumed victory, or anything and everything in between?  Well there really isn't much that can beat that on a cold Sunday afternoon.  Oh, to be a fan.