the busy heart

Made this for dessert, a chocolate tofu pie. Easy, EASY recipe. This is what you do: Blend one package of silken tofu with one t of vanilla. Melt one bag of chocolate chips over medium heat in a little sauce pan. Mix tofu stuff and chocolatey goodness. Taste. Add a little sugar-type substance if it needs it. Pour (scrape) into pie shell. Refrigerate until set. (The recipe said three hours; mine took one.) Put it in your tummy. It ain't perfectly healthy, but I like Sunday desserts. Especially on fast Sunday.

Come see me, really. Those who volunteered. And those who didn't. Come any time (almost). And I also must say: Sam and I saw a little bird today, a very little bird, flying with a huge stick-like thing in its mouth. This stick-like thing was several times its size. This seemed very brave.

Tonight I made tasty white bean basil/thyme hummus, which is in the bowl there. Only, my thyme migrated to the back of the fridge and got frozen, as you see there. My time got frozen, I thought while squeezing a lemon. Frozen in thyme. And suddenly I was at the prom. Is that not the theme for 97,000 proms a year? In other news, while eating said hummus, which was not as good as the last time I made it, which makes it a bummer I doubled it, this is what the cat did. He was, himself, frozen like that for most of the meal. (Yes, my kitchen rug is yucky. Fire me please. Please, fire me.) He did that right up until he decided to do this. I would give my left arm to know what happens in that little guy's brain.

It was too loud. Everything's been too loud. But today I'm sitting in my office and I don't think anyone knows I'm here because I've just been at my computer, reading a new blog that I'm obsessed with. And I won't tell you what it is because I'm stalking and I want to stalk quietly. Shhhh. I want everything to be quieter. I don't want to cry in Sam's arms again, like I did last night. I mean, some day I will again, I'm sure. But it's such a bummer for him to have a sad, slumpy wife. I hate sad, slumpy wives. Me, I mean. That me. I thought I was this person, this poet, this happy person who sang songs to her cats and danced around her house in the mornings and had oodles of wonderful people in her life and liked to run and learn stuff and eat pretty food. So I keep feeling like she's coming back. The other day I walked up the stairs to my office and I actually felt good and happy and energetic and useful to my students and it made me r...

saw my shrink this morning--my new one, who's not as dumb as the last. you know what's weird about having a shrink? you can feel happy, singing stupid songs in the bathtub happy, admiring the way the sun comes in the window and shatters the light of your wedding ring happy, and then you go in there and talk about all the stuff you worry about and makes you sad. and then you know what happens? surprise, surprise, it makes you sad! duh. it's weird this happened today because then on the way to school i listened to the moth podcast and they had a story by someonerother solomon who wrote noonday demon (and i'm too lazy to link--sorry.) and he was telling this story about being in Africa and having this ritual performed by some village medicine woman, meant to combat depression. the ritual involved hugging a ram in a marriage bed while everyone danced around and threw blankets on them and then they slit the ram's throat and covered the man's naked body in blood a...

A couple from church invited us over for dinner last night, and they were a delight. Not only did they enthusiastically cook a delish tofu dish, but they had traveled to cool places, had interesting books on their bookshelves, and regaled us with stories of winter camping. Oh so cold. Anyway, at one point the gal was talking about NYU, and why she decided not to go there after all, even though she had started classes. Among other reasons, she said they have people who own student loan companies on their board, which means they raise and raise tuition so they can put more money in their pockets. "And," she said ominously, "the owner of Penthouse is on their board." "Oh," said my sweet husband, "you mean so-and-so." As if they were buddies. As if he's known him since grade school. Apparently, Sam says this person is someone everyone's heard of--a household name, of sorts. It's not like Sam has a subscription--trust me. But in that momen...

This morning at five a.m., the kitties did their usual routine: chasing and running and jumping and playing on and around our sleeping bodies. Oh how I hate that particular routine. It's like they have little cat alarm clocks. Playtime, it rings. So I got up, coaxed them into the kitchen by shaking their food box, fed them a little, then snuck back in and closed the door. And Sam said, "I was just dreaming that Meatsock [the kitty] had a science test. A biology test, in one of those big auditoriums that hold hundreds of people. And you were really worried he wouldn't do well. And I was trying to tell you he'd do just fine." "Was he a human form of Meatsock?" I asked. "No, definitely a cat. No opposable thumbs or anything." Then I remembered/realized what I'd been dreaming. I confess, I record a few episodes of America's Next Top Model a week on DVR, and I watched two last night while I graded midterms. And you know what I was...

I started a vegan whole foods diet, and it's hardcore. I'm afraid to talk about it because I've only been doing it for a week and I feel like a poser. But someday I'll be cool, like my mom, who taught me to eat this way when I was a little whiny kid, and my friend Janae, who makes it look glamorous on her blog . I will say this: I feel gooooodddd. And the food is yummy. 100s of times tastier than all the stuff I was eating before. Here's what I made last night, with a few modifications. I added an avocado and a cup and half of brown rice. I also used turbinado sugar, and really, you probably don't need it. Or at least not this much. I'm learning, I'm learning. I think I'll make a huge batch and bring it for my lunches next week. Anyway, it's exquisitely good. And the colors are so vibrant that it looks like a rainbow on your plate. Go rainbow, go! (I stole this picture. I took one of my plate last night but then, well, I messed it ...

It's been awhile, yes. Does anyone else get afraid of their blog sometimes? Feel exposed/vulnerable? Maybe it was all the sadness I had inside me. It's hard to write something when all I really, really had to say was, "Wow, I'm so sad." And. "Wow, I'm still so sad." I don't feel sad now. I don't know if it's the warmer weather, the longer hours of daylight, having a week off school, the 2500 we're getting back for taxes, or what. But I suddenly have energy and interest and even, gasp, joy. Thank goodness. I pray and pray that it sticks to my ribs. Went to a Relief Society activity, a birthday celebration. It was actually quite lovely and I ate strawberries and grapes and talked to people. I remembered that talking to people, like teaching, is so much about asking good questions, getting other people to talk, listening. I've been scared of engaging in real conversation because I'm so fragile lately and I don't wa...