Cooking with Tony!

Today: Quinoa!
(in fact, most days Quinoa!)

Alright, so for this you’ll need FOUR to FIVE seasoning powders, TWO or MORE cooking oils, water, quinoa, and a 4+ cup rice cooker.

1) Empty ~4 cups of quinoa into rice cooker. Most packages will say to wash it, but unless you have the FINEST sieves or a lot of cheese cloth, don’t worry about it, because honestly, it doesn’t make a difference once you season it. I personally use Arrowhead Mills Organic Quinoa, which comes in 14 oz packages and can be bought at Safeway.

2) Select your seasonings.
For this batch of quinoa, I used paprika (which I use in all of my quinoa), ground cumin seed, Chinese five spice, cinnamon, and onion powder.

3) Select your seasoning proportions. In this case I did my measuring by the caps of the seasonings, because our measuring spoons were dirty and it’s not my job to clean up after my roommates.
I used a capfull (about ONE TABLESPOON) of paprika and onion powder
Half a capfull (about a HALF TABLESPOON) of Chinese five spice
and a capfull (about a QUARTER TABLESPOON) of cinnamon and ground cumin seed
For a final result that looks like this

4) GET A SPOON!
And stir that shit! Make sure you scrape along the sides and thoroughly mix in the seasonings as much as possible. You’ll stir it about before you start cooking, and once while you’re cooking, but it’s good to distribute everything out now.

5) Select your cooking oils. In my case, I used black vinegar, sesame oil, and extra virgin olive oil. This was my first time working with the vinegar and sesame.
I used an 1/8 cup of black vinegar
a 1/4 cup of sesame oil
and 5/8 cup of extra virgin olive oil

6) Add your water. I tend to add a little less water to my quinoa than my rice, so I did about 4 1/2 cups of water, in addition to my 1 cup of cooking oils. (For white rice, I do half again the quantity of water in rice, so a 4 cup rice pot gets 6 cups of water)

7) Get that spoon again, and stir stir stir! This helps make sure that your seasonings and oils are coating all of the quinoa, while the water is getting into everything, and also keeps things from separating. With the above combos, your quinoa should look like this when you’re done stirring

8) Turn the cooker on, and, if you have this function, set it to “white rice”

9) About half way through cooking, open it up and stir it around. With the oils in there, there’s a tendency for the quinoa at the bottom to stick and burn, so stirring it up makes sure that’s less likely to happen. Also, if you’re going to add any vegetables (I like to add spinach or kale to mine), now’s the best time.

10) Once it’s done cooking, it can be eaten straight, with (more) vegetables, as a lovely breakfast grain with eggs, or with sausage/tofu stirred in!

Final product (with separately steamed kale and baby spinach in sesame oil with pepper, and turkey keilbasa):

Spring finally came!

So, the past week has been gloriously amazing the whole time. It’s been in the 60s to 70s, this weekend has been in the upper 70s, and it’s just sort of brilliantly amazing.

In other news, I’ve had to go off my migraine medication. Luckily, I’m nowhere NEAR where I used to be on the migraine front–one pounding and forcing me into a detrimental state at least once a day, six to eight ibuprofen or naproxin every three hours. I had one migraine on Wednesday, which I kicked in the butt with some coffee and one of my migraine stops (which make me a little woozy and fuzzy headed but definitely help with the migraine situation). While my mood has been all over the place and low for the most part, I’m feeling slightly better that I am not so dependent on my medication for a quality of life. The reason for going off it was because I cannot predict the cost of that medication–it was $5 on insurance, and the first time I filled it off insurance it was $25, but the next time I filled it, it was almost $250 before the wonderful woman at the pharmacy in Ohio worked some low-income pharmacy white magic and got it down to $28. I just cannot afford that sort of fluctuation (or even really for it to be $25, right now), and so I’m glad that the migraines are turning out to be much more hormonally based than we originally supposed they were when I was diagnosed in February, 2011.

Also in other news, the collection agency that has been harassing me since July, 2011 is back again–this time with a wage garnishment order that is founded on complete bullshit. They called me in early April this year, claiming I now owed almost $3000 for something that has been covered since late last year when they actually managed to serve me papers (it was then $1400ish). I’m going to talk to the free legal counseling on campus on Monday, and I’ll be taking every ounce of paperwork I have–their original legal papers they served me, all the bills, the dismissal from the court, and the new garnishment papers. Hopefully something can be done about it, because I can’t afford to lose $100 a pay check (%25 after taxes) for the next thirty months. That just impossible.

Luckily, on the surgery front, I qualified for the CareCredit financing, so I now have $5600 to cover the surgery expenses. This lifts a huge burden off of my shoulders, because it means that the money I have saved up can go toward paying back the fiancee for my plane ticket, toward the hotel after surgery, and then paying off the cost of the surgery rather than plopping down the money right at the get go.

I’m signed up for summer classes right now, so hopefully I will be getting financial aid for that very shortly; and I’ve figured out my fall courses as well, so I’ll be signing up for those shortly. If I don’t get financial aid for the summer, then I’m going to drop the courses and rework my fall schedule, and try to work over the summer. The problem with that is that I’ll be recovering from surgery and so won’t be able to do a lot of the things I would normally–working on my feet, lifting things, rotating my torso. Preferably, I’d like to get a desk job for the summer and perhaps after for extra income, but most desk jobs need previous experience.

Surgery is scheduled for June 25th, so I fly to Ohio on the 21st and come back on July 2nd. Still up in the air if mom is coming with us; I need to figure that out posthaste so that flights can be worked out.

Several weddings coming up as well, for my sister’s friends. One over Memorial Day weekend, and the other in the second weekend of June. I’m still on the fence about the Memorial Day one because driving up takes me and my mom past my sister’s roadside memorial, but as my friend was saying to me last night, it could be good or neutral to do so, because it lets us see the sight and then go on to a lot of good growth and happiness; there’s not much in the situation that can make it get worse. At the same time, I’ve never been to the site, and I harbor a lot of guilt surrounding my sister’s death. I have a couple weeks to make a decision, so I’ll make it before then, I’m sure.

Classes are winding down into the last three weeks. I’ve been doing a piss poor job in my Anthropology class–not because it’s not interesting or what have you, and not because I’m doing poorly in it (I think), but because 35% of the grade is based on online participation boards, and since I don’t have the books, it puts me in an awkward place of participating. Also, I didn’t do as well as I could have on my History midterm–again because I don’t have the books, and also I didn’t study particularly well for it. But German is going moderately well (as long as I pick up on the homework, oops) and the Physics/History class is going as well as I can expect it to. Work is going fairly well as well, though I’ve had to take some time off for going to events on weekends and a couple times for being sick; I do what I can to make up those sorts of absences, but there’s only so much I can do, really.

And I think that’s about it.

Four years

So, today is the four year anniversary of my sister’s death.

That’s her on the left, from her senior year of college. She had, in the month of April, just received her admissions into the graduate program after four years at Pacific Lutheran University and was going to be graduating in May before beginning their two year teaching program in August.

On April 25th, she, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend’s twin brother were headed from Tacoma, WA to Tonasket, WA when, while her boyfriend was distracted, he swerved into the other lane. He corrected in time to avoid a complete head-on collision, saving his twin brother’s life.

He and my sister were killed on impact.

My mother received word that evening, several hours after the incident. I was also travelling at the time, in California with my choir.

I was the last person my sister sent a text to before the accident.

I hadn’t texted her back.

I was given the option of going home that night–no expenses on myself. Rather, I decided would stick it out in honor of the choirs my sister herself had been in as well. When I asked if I could pass on a few of the activities and requested a friend to stay with me, it was denied and I was told that I would either attend the activities or be sent home. When I attempted to sit with my SO at the time, we were forcibly removed from each other, and I received several stern lectures from chaperones and the choir director–which several other students on the bus did not receive, and when this was brought to anyone’s attention, I was told I was lying.

I came back to school, missed one day of class besides the week I’d been gone for the choir trip–the day of her memorial service, the first time since my brother’s graduation I saw my father face-to-face, the first time since I was thirteen that I had spoken to him, and the last–and was under a constant barage of being told how strong andresilient I was for being able to sit it out.

I wasn’t either of those things. I had two options.

Be there. Function like a real human being. Put my head down and force myself to go on.

Or don’t.

Not doing anything wasn’t an option. Shutting down wasn’t an option.

I had promised her that I would go to college, that I would make something out of myself, that I would try my damned hardest.

Well, here I am.

The first year out was a fiasco. I went to Pacific Lutheran University, I got some grief counseling which because PTSD counseling which included some counseling and medication for my bi-polar disorder–which nearly drove me off the deep end. So here I am, three years into my degree at University of Oregon.

And here are my options.

Keep going.

Or don’t.

Keeping going sounds mighty pleasant these days.

This is my sister. Her name is Jocelyn Denham, and I can’t remember what her voice sounds like anymore. She died today, four years ago. I miss her, and I love her.

And I’m going to keep on, as long as I can, because she’s going to kick my ass if I show up before I’m supposed to.

How to be with a polyamorous person (in my own experiences)

Forget what you think you know about love, that to be in love is to be with one person at one time for as long as you both shall honor it. That may be the way it is with some people, but not with the polyamorous person. Do not suppose to understand how they love you, even if you are poly yourself; do not compare their love for you to their love of another; and do not suppose that their love comes in graduations and preferences, though this may be the case with some. Suppose, instead, that there is a cyclical nature to the timeline of love. We meet people, we get to know them, we fall in love, we grow, and over time, we keep falling in love. New entrants are not lesser persons or secondary in love; they are merely at a different stage in their love.

Do not tell them how to love another, or command how they are to love you. With the supposition that they are more likely to leave you, you damage them. If they have hurt you with their love of another, let them know; they can fix nothing without knowledge of their wounds, and a festering wound is much harder to heal than a fresh one.

Forget your ideas on commitment and dedication. You will likely suppose, at one point or another, that you have been deceived in these arenas, but make no mistake: these are the people with far more at stack to lose than you, unless you are yourself poly. Society says to them: hide how you love, hide how far the reach of your love is, settle down and be grateful for it. All else is infidelity and lying. So, when you suppose that they are in love with another, consider that society already speaks all the words that you yourself have against them–all the fear and insecurity and distaste for further association with another while they are with you, they harbor in themselves because they have heard it their whole lives, and it is not so simple a thing lost.

Do not make up, for them, categories of how people are loved. If they do it themselves than they will do it. When you impose distinctions, you create the barriers of how they love. There is not, necessarily, a distinction of People they Love, despite the Romantic/Sexual from the Familial. Do not suppose, if you were the first they were with, that you can make rules and bylines and all others must concede to you on principal. The others are in a relationship with the poly person, for one; and besides, this presents the idea that there are graduations of love, rather than simply an abundance of it.

If, then, a poly person proposes to you. If you are engaged or married. Do not suppose that they will cease their love for others. Forget what you think you know about everything. Being in love with someone else does not lessen their love for you in the slightest, nor predispose them to leave you, nor mean that the other is trying to steal them away. Trust that you are in love and you are loved. Trust that you can trust. Do not trust any differently than you would with anyone else–if you are treated poorly, if you are discarded, if you are maligned or put down, then leave. Because never mind the abundance of love: people are still people, and in that, there are some that are more inclined to be less dedicated and trusting and faithful than others, ones that are more inclined to abuse than affection.

Forget what you think you know about love, the construct that society has created. Let yourself be with someone. Trust yourself, and them.

some brief 2am thoughts

I don’t talk about my dysphoria that often, I realize. Perhaps I’ve been remiss in that, especially given the doubt-concern expressed to me by members of my family throughout this first year of medical transition. So here’s a brief detailing of what it’s like.

Keep in mind, it’s ebbed, some, over the past year. I’m not as dysphoric as I used to be because beginning Testosterone was a large step toward being comfortable with myself. The worst of it still comes, and it has nothing to do with my ADHD, my PTSD, my manic depression. It’s its own beast, rearing an ugly head under my skin.

So, a regular day for me starts with not wanting to get out of bed. I’m exhausted most of the time. It is exhaustive to exist a lot of the time, even when I am proud and happy and pleased with myself. If I am lucky, there is a shower with water hotter than it should be and a minimal amount of glancing at myself. I will pick at my own skin–this is a habit I’ve had since I was about ten or eleven that became more severe during college.

I will dress. A binder–two, if they are the older, looser ones–and various amounts of underwear depending on if I’m packing that day or not. It takes longer to dress than it does to shower most days. Nothing lays right. Even fully dressed and settled, I can pick out the details that aren’t right.

I will go about my day. I will pick at my skin. I will chew on my lips. I will be too self-conscious of my voice. I will be self-conscious of my new acne, of my wispy facial hair, of my posture, of how my clothing sits.

I will be told, at least once, that I’m a sweetheart, or a dear, or something like that. If it is a very bad day, I will be called a sweet girl, or by female pronouns–all the worse when it confuses someone who hears the pronouns.

Last week on Friday was a bad day. I was late on my injection and had been misgendered and had just found out I was not getting surgery over the break. I was anxious, and after my shot, when Mara was being goofy, I just broke down.

Because while I am self-conscious of the roundness of my face and the size of my hands and that none of my pants fit properly, I look around and there are other guys with round faces and small hands and who have difficulties finding pants that fit them. But sometimes, despite having a handful of friends who I talk to online, I feel like I am the only person who is looking in the mirror and seeing something completely at odds with what should be there.

I will look at comparisons I make of myself to one year ago, or two years ago, or four years ago, and I see no differences. I only hear a difference in my voice when it’s a recording. And no matter what money is sitting in the bank account or what papers I sign or surgeries I get, there are always going to be people who ridicule me because, at some point, I played in the backyard with my shirt off like every other boy before that became a strange and forbidden thing to do.

It’s awful, like the worst sunburn, like the strangest optical allusion, because no matter the clothes I’ve put on my body or the make up I’ve worn or the sex I’ve had or the people I’ve been afraid of–everything in my mind has been tilted this way and nothing has lined up.

And it’s the hardest, because those who think they understand the most are real chairs.

Impending Spring Break and Term

Finally got a chance to talk to the surgery clinic again. Surgery isn’t happening over Spring Break. Going to Cleveland anyway, which will be nice, but I am sorely disappointed; I informed the clinic of my availability in January, and if I wasn’t going to be able to get in, it would have been nice to know that in January, before I got a ticket out there, so I could save the money.

Registered for classes for Spring Term, just a few minutes ago. My Spring Term is going to look like this (17 credit hours in total):

Monday, Wednesday:
11am-11:50am : German History
1pm-1:50pm : German 203
2pm-3:50pm : Modern Science and Culture

Tuesday:
9am-9:50am : Ballet 1
1pm-1:50pm : German 203
2pm-3:20pm : The Idea of Europe

Thursday:
9am-9:50am : Ballet 1
2pm-3:20pm : The Idea of Europe

Friday:
11am-11:50am : German History
1pm-1:50pm : German 203

At this point, I’m looking for a new job to start during the summer, working in a different part of housing. It would be full time during the summer; and then I might look into a different place in housing as well come fall term next year. The hard part of this is, I’m now aiming to get surgery in June and the job for the summer is a very active/intensive job that starts pretty much as soon as school gets out. I’ll have to figure things out post haste.

Goals

> I am setting aside three days a week and an hour at a time to work on German homework. These days are Monday and Wednesday from 6-7 and Thursday from 9:45-12 and 8:30-10pm. (okay yeah the Thursday gets more than an hour, but that’s because I only have one class and Friday is when homework is due)

> I am setting aside three days a week to turn off AIM/Skype for two hours and write. It doesn’t matter what I write – fanfic, poetry, original – I just have to be writing for two hours, three days a week. The three days will be Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday.

> I’m going to start going to Stammtisch (German discussion table) on Tuesday evenings. I’m going to start going to Krafttraining (German weight training) on Friday evenings.

> no more cigarettes. This is the LAST PACK. (HOLD ME TO THIS ONE)

> I’m going to walk to and from school more and drive/take the bus less. (I’d prefer to bike, but my bike is a piece of shit. I need to get rid of it. Maybe I can sell if?)

> I’m going to STOP WORRYING ABOUT CLEVELAND/INSURANCE/SURGERY. I’m going to Cleveland. I’m going to see Medalie. These things are going to happen. When I know about insurance, I’ll know, and I can figure things out from there. There’s no use stressing over things I can’t control.

> Less time on tumblr/plurk/the internet in general, more time being a productive student and member of civilization.

> no more calling out of work unless I’m dying.

> less coffee, more water

> more blogging

> less money spending (though I’ve been good on this point over the last month)