Saturday, January 17, 2009


Mistaking me for someone else, he asked me to marry him. This has
happened more than once. The first time, I was eighteen and the boy had
a diamond ring in a box. It was the Fourth of July, it was dark, he said, Happy
Independence Day. Of course, the ring was too large and slipped right off
my finger into the grass. (It belonged to someone else: the woman he
married, eventually.) And when I was twenty-one, that redhead, sloe-eyed
and slinking out of his grief, said he'd imagined I'd be his wife. But he was
mistaken. It wasn't me. Then a drunk who drove too fast, who threw the
proposal over his shoulder like some glittering, tattered scarf. I staggered
out of his car, saying, No thanks, No thanks, No thanks. And the man over
eggs one morning, in the midst of an argument, saying he planned to wait
for spring to ask for my hand, then he never asked. (So of course, I married
that one for a while; spent years convincing him I was not his cup of coffee,
not his girl.) And in Prague, on a bridge called the Karlův Most, a stranger,
a refugee, who mistook the way I stared at the river for thinking of suicide.
Who mistook my American passport for his ticket out of there. And
others-the man whose children grabbed the food off my plate, called me
her; the man in Chartres Cathedral humming the wedding march into my
ear. And tonight, at dinner with friends, happy, discussing their wedding
plans, a man I've known for a couple of hours turning to ask me to marry
him. I don't know who they think I am. Do I look like a bride in these rags
of wind? Do I look like the angel of home and hearth with this strange green
fire in my hands?

by Cecilia Woloch, from Late

Friday, January 16, 2009

White Bean and Sage Spread

Man (and woman) doth not live by bread alone, he (and she) must have spreads...

Serve with veggies, crusty bread, or as a savory topper

1 - 15 ounce can of cannellini beans
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon water
1/2 teaspoon minced, fresh sage
1 garlic clove
1/4 teaspoon salt
dash of cayenne pepper or freshly ground black pepper

1. Put it all in a blender and pulse until smooth. Eat up!

*** Sage is not just an adjective we use to describe Yoda or other wrinkled creatures known for their spirituality and spare speech. Sage is also an evergreen shrub whose leaves are used as an herb.
** Salvia, the latin name for sage, means “to heal". Although many contend the effectiveness of Common Sage as a cure all, throughout history it has been prescribed for nearly every ailment. Recently, in a double blind and placebo-controlled trial, sage was found to be effective in the management of mild to moderate Alzheimer's disease. I haven't researched the specifics, so I couldn't tell you if they ingested the essential oil or if they did as all good hippies and Topanga-dwellers do and waved burning sage around themselves. I've tried it before: it's like good-vibes insurance and it's probably better for you than a couple of bong hits.

Recipe by Cristina Paul

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Blah-Blah-Blahg: Food For Nought

Cool stuff that I've been doing that you might want to do too:

First, watch these videos and any other video on YouTube that features Philip Hansen

Second, the human race has invented many ridiculous things like Mr Potato Head, French Toast sticks, doga (yoga for dogs), Edible Bouquets (more hideous than ridiculous), and any and all Japanese gameshows. I do think, though, that I have participated in one of its most preposterously FUUUUUUUUUN inventions to date: Yoga Booty Ballet. Just saying it makes me feel as if I were caught commiting a harmless but embarrasing crime - like peeing in public. Exercise has never been such fun. Imagine step-aerobics, a Michael Jackson dance video circa 1988, a tribal drum circle, and jazz hands fluttering across your "chalice" (the instructor used that word) - that's what it's like. TREMENDOUS!!! Males, do not be shy. There were two men in the class I recently attended - albeit one of them was playing drums, but the other was an enthused participant (and I have an abiding conviction that both were straight).