Best not to think about it, then. At least, that's how I view it. After all, if it only hurts when I think about it, why should I think about it? Besides, it's been helping me fight the whole 'not eating' thing that I do so very often. So, a little pain is worth a proper diet, in my opinion. I know it's not caused by spicy foods either, as most of the food here is tailored to the people who have sensitive stomachs.
One possibility that was raised is that it is caused by stress, and I can understand that. Hang on, I'm going to grab something to eat. Alright. I grabbed an orange, which is probably not the best thing to soothe excess acid. Unless citric acid helps combat hydrochloric acid. I don't think it does, though. Enh, doesn't really matter, as I love the taste of orange, no matter how much it might hurt me.
And, since I am bringing this possible pain onto myself, I am not allowed to complain. I have gone into this situation knowing full well that it may do more harm than good, and I have not changed my course of action. So, if this makes my heartburn worse, it was totally worth it, as oranges are filled with delicious and win.
I don't think I've ever written about my love of oranges, before. I'm fairly certain that I love oranges more than pomegranates, but the fact that they are available year-round makes acquiring them less of a chore. Sure, they become more expensive at certain times, but they do not become unavailable, like pomegranates do. So, while I enjoy oranges more, pomegranate is a bigger deal.
I suppose that if oranges and pomegranate were equally available, I would generally not give pomegranate a second thought. However, the fact that they are simply nonexistant for most of the year makes them much more desirable to me. I do enjoy them very much, and gladly pay outrageous prices, but truly they do not compare to the simplicity of an orange.
I love almost everything about oranges. The smell, the flavour, how much easier it is to eat when compared to some of my other favourite fruits and nuts. I have been an orange enthusiast for far longer than I can remember. I have been known to eat a dozen oranges in one sitting. That cannot be said of me and pomegranate, or me and any other fruit. There is just something about them that makes me desire them.
I know that I don't really have any vitamin deficiencies, least of all vitamin C. Which kind of tosses out the argument that I want them so much because my body craves some random nutrient contained therein. I'm fairly certain that nutrient-need is why I occasionally demolish an entire jar of pickles, but I'm not certain. Anyway, I think I can rule out oranges as a dietary necessity for why I love them.
Wow, that's quite a bit of talk about oranges and the tastiness thereof. I think it is time to change the subject, but I do not know what to change it to. I would say tortillas, but I know that I have posted about those at length recently, so that's out. So, I definitely just exhausted what little I had to talk about today. I'm sure I'll come up with something as I wander through the jungle that is the Internet.
Right. So, I'm a couple of days behind, and a few things have happened since I updated last. So far the biggest thing is that my Mom was in the hospital for a couple of days. I found out tuesday night and headed down to be there with her. Ended up staying the night, and talking about all of the things that I had been avoiding her over. Yes, I can admit that I am a horrible son. However, I'm now taking steps to rectify that situation
I ended up staying with her through the night, as she had done for me back when I was in the hospital. Mind you, she stayed with me for much longer, but that's besides the point. It's the thought that counts, okay? At breakfast I ended up speaking with an older gentleman who was visiting with his wife, as apparently she was in the hospital for some smoking-related illness. We ate breakfast together, and he talked throughout.
Mom says that some people just need a friendly ear to tell their stories to, and I suppose that this man is one of those. He talked to me about his entire life, and how much he loves his wife. They have been married for about forty years, if I can recall his story correctly. He was a nice old man, even if he seemed a bit dim. I hope his wife is doing okay, as he truly seems to love her dearly.
I'm keeping him and his wife in my prayers.
I also left the place that I was staying. Nothing against greywolfmd and allura, but the other one was driving me even more insane than I already am. I truly hope that my abrupt departure does not strain the friendship I have with them, as they are truly kind and generous people. Normally I pay things forward, but I need to pay them back as well. They went above and beyond the call of duty, and helped me out when I was in a tight spot.
So, I shall do my best to keep in touch with them, as they deserve more than my usual treatment of friends during a major life change. Hell, they deserve a giant house and excellent jobs for all the help they gave me. Also, they should win the lottery. And several other beneficial things that I cannot think of at the moment. If I ever remember the other stuff they should have for their kindness, I will edit them in to this post.
I'm going to end up living with my Grandmother, trying to get a Fresh Start out of this county. Hopefully the jobscape is better out there, and I pray that I will be employed by spring of next year. I need to keep busy with something, as I am swiftly going mad from lack of routine. Also, money. I definitely need more money.
In discussing my issues at the side of the hospital bed, we ended up on the subject of this blog, journal, or whatever you want to call it. She said that I sound like Eeyore. Apparently this whole month is much more negative than I thought it was. I mean, I knew that I have a generally depressing view on things, but I didn't think it was that bad. I ended up telling her the truth about this thing, in that I have basically been pouring all of the whiny emo stuff I could into here so that it is out of my system.
I have to say, this journal has been helping me cope. I've been off my meds for a while, and writing is helping me get rid of all the anger that builds up over time. For the past couple of days I have been unable to access the catharsis that comes with writing, but even then some things are really getting to me. I'm trying my best, though. In the past couple of days I have stifled rage on more than one occasion, and I think I have been doing so admirably.
Mind you, I haven't asked anybody whether I'm doing a good job of it, as I generally afraid that I will slip and end up psychotic again. The medication did help a little bit with helping me control my emotions, but sometimes even they were not enough. So, I get to figure out how to deal with them on my own.
Writing definitely seems to help, but then again so does most anything that avoids human contact. This just has the benefit of venting, so I am thankful for it.
I just wish that I could be free of anger. I know that it is an unrealistic wish, and that there is nothing short of the grave that will keep me from being upset about things, but I still wish. If wishes were horses, then beggars would eat, I supppose. I know that the quote is supposed to end with, "then beggars would ride", but that always struck me as unrealistic.
After all, if you were starving and reduced to begging, the last thing you would want is to ride around town. No, you would want to eat. And what are horses made of? Meat. It makes much more sense to either sell the horse to make money for food, or to kill it and eat it. Thought processes like these are why I don't get invited to many parties, I think.
Thanksgiving was good this year. Ended up helping make most of the food, which turned out pretty okay. The Turkey was an experience and a half, let me tell you that. Ended up doing something from America's Test Kitchen this year. Something called 'Butterfly Turkey', which definitely produced tasty results. The stuffing was pretty good too, but was a tad bit greasy.
I have to talk about the turkey, though. After all, it is the basis of mant Thanksgiving meals. What you do to butterfly the turkey is actually pretty interesting. First, you remove the tail, setting it aside to make the gravy with. Then, you remove the spine. Now, it sounds easy on paper, and it looked even easier on the program.
This is a classic example of the truism that you cannot belive everything you read or see on the television. Either the bones on the turkey they were using were basically nonexistant, or our turkey was some kind of mutant with super-tough bones. Let me tell you, it was nearly inmpossible to remove that spine. As it was, we eneded up only being able to remove one half of it at a time, as we could not get enough force behind the cuts.
We finally got the darned thing out, and set it aside for the gravy. We had removed the neck and giblet pack before we did this, so we were all set for the next step. After cutting out the breastplates, we proceeded to pound the turkey flat. This bears repeating because it was the oddest thing I had ever seen.
We took that turkey, set it with the giant gaping cavity down, and we pounded on it until the breasts were level with the thighs. I had never seen such a thing, and I honestly pray that I never see it again. It was weird, let me tell you that. So, after we finished pounding on this bird who had never wornged me in any way, we brined it for about eight hours.
Rather, I believe it was brined for that long. I ended up going to bed long before the eight hours had ended, as I was fairly exhausted. Trying to break being nocturnal combined with sleeping on a hospital floor will do that to you, I suppose. But, I ended up sleeping through most of the night, so that was a plus.
But I digress. So, we also made the stuffing, which was apparently pretty good. I think it would have been better had we followed the directions more closely, but we did pretty okay, I think. It was about a loaf and a half of Challah bread, cut into one inch cubes, with some celery, onions, and breakfast sausage. That surprised me, as I had never associated stuffing with any meat but turkey, but it was part of the recipe, so in it went.
There were other ingredients too, but I cannot remember them offhand, and am typing from a computer without access to the Internet so I can't find out quickly and without hassle. There was milk mixed with eggs and something else, but that's not important. The important thing was that ATK said to bake the stuffing with the turkey on a broiler thingy (I think it was, at least) atop the stuffing, so that the stuffing would catch the 'flavor' of the turkey.
Now, 'flavor' must be some kind of code for fat, as that is all that dripped from the turkey. Man, that stuffing ended up all liquidy and greasy. Tasted amazing, but I personally dont think it was really worth it. You see, it didn't have a very good mouthfeel, and that is as important as flavours are. It doesn't really matter how good something tastes, because if it feels disgusting in your mouth it is not a good food.
I'm sitting here trying to think of a way to improve the feeling of it, and can only come up with a second pan underneath the stuffing, and cutting holes in the bottom of the stuffing pan. That way, the grease drips through the stuffing, imparting the tasty turkey flavour on the way through and into the waiting pan on the bottom. This would have the added benefit of helping dry out the stuffing a bit more so that it has a better mouthfeel.
I'm probably over-analysing this, as most likely we won't be making the stuffing again. Which is a shame, because it really did taste amazing. Adn who knows, maybe the five minutes of thinking would solve the texture thing for me. Apparently though, some of the people at the table like we stuffing like that. I don't know why, but they did. Anyway, time to talk about the gravy.
I think the gravy was actually pretty well done, but I didn't try much of it as the turkey was downright perfect. Anyway, we put the turkey spine, neck, and other bits on a roasting pan or something (again, not certain of the names), along with celery, carrot, and garlic. Shoved this into the oven to cook, then transferred them into a large stockpot. We deglazed the pan with some chicken stock, and put the resulting liquid into the stockpot as well. After adding some more chicken stock, we let it all reduce for a bit.
A couple hours later, we remove everything that wasn't liquid, and set the stock aside to cool. Like, overnight. At least, I think it was overnight. My memor is kind of hazy about things that happen right before sleep and right after waking. I'm fairly certain it was overnight, though. Anyway, in what I recall to be the morning I skimmed the fat off the top of the stock and made my first roux.
For those of you who don't know what roux is, it is basically just a mixture of flour and fat. I don't know what other things you can make with it, but I do know that it can be used to make gravy. Now, I cannot think about roux without remembering one particular post in the 'Kitchen Disaster' threads over on Goons With Spoons. Namely, 'Why isn't my roux coming together? And what smells like caramel?' I swear, I said that quote so many times in the last twenty-four hours. I love it so much.
But back to the gravy. After the roux was made, we added the (now turkified) stock. After combining it with the roux, we had some pretty decent gravy. No lumps or anything! So, I was happy with that. I was pretty worried though, as it was the first time I had made anything much more ambitious than tortillas.That, and I lost count of the measurement on a couple of ingredients. And was incredibly tired.
Have I mentioned how very tired I am? All day, I feel exhausted. If I still feel exhausted with a diurnal schedule after a couple of weeks, I feel that I might go insane. I just feel so very tired all during the day. I really do hope that this exhaustion goes away soon, because tiredness shortens my fuse, and I really don't want that to happen. Luckily, the past few times I have flipped I have only damaged my own stuff, but who knows what will happen next time?
I say next time because this does happen in a recognisable pattern. But, I've spoken of that and other negative things in this journal enough, lately. Let me get back to thanksgiving today, since it was one of the most enjoyable ones that I can remember. Also, it's agood way to pad out this post. After all, I'started it almost four thousand words behind. I'm just glad I started on Wednesday's post, or I would have somuch more to write about. As it is, I still have another two thousand-odd words to come up with.
Hang on, Bamboo Cactus just came on my playlist. It's so... playful. Seriously, it's a bunch of simple pieces of music woven beautifully together. Every single time it comes on, I pause. There's just something about it that makes me notice it, and it's probably the hopeful feeling it creates, the boundless energy that it evokes. Either that, or I'm just a guy who is over-enthusiastic of this song. Either way, it has the same effect.
Anyway, both my Brother and Sister came over fairly early in the morning. At least, it was early to me. I can't recall the time, but it was apparently scandalously late to both my Mother and Grandmother. I don't know, must be something from a different generation. Anyway, my sister made some sweet potatoes and mashed the regular potatoes. I can't remember what my brother did, but I think it was moral support of some kind. Maybe he did dishes. It doesn't really matter, though. After all, it was the three of us in one place, which is an incredibly rare event.
So, after shoving the turkey in the oven with the stuffing underneath it, there was a pause of a litle while. Not sure how long,though. My memory is pretty hazy up until about three in the afternoon. I really don't remember much about the kitchen or the things that went on therein. It's not really important, though. All that matters isthe fact that the food came out okay. Despite the fact that the turkey took significantly longer to cook than anticipated. And the whole stuffing thing.
Oh! I learned how to make this pink stuff that we have every year. I seriously love this stuff, and am glad that I learned. It's a pretty simple thing to make, too. I was surprised. As it turns out, it's just cranberries, apples,sugar, marshmallows, pecans, and whipped cream. Five simple ingredients that are awesome by themselves combine into something that is super-awesome.
Man, that would be a simultaneously awesome and horrible superpower for me to have. The ability to make Pink Stuff spontaneously appear. I could stop crimes with the sheer power of deliciousness. I'd be all, 'Stop, thief!' and he'd be all, 'Why?' and I'd go, 'Because you have to try this!' and he would stop and try it and he wouldn't be able to stop eating it and then the cops would come and arrest him and have a bowl of pink stuff and it would be awesome.
Yeah, that sentence kind of got away from me. Anyway, after I finish typing up this post, I think I will treat myself to a small cup of it. It seriously is reallygood, and I need to write down the recipe. But back to the rest of the day. Aunt and Uncle came by, bringing along a couple of Cousins. They also brought along green bean casserole and some desserts. They may have brought some other things, but I cannot recall.
The desserts were pretty cute. They were little pilgrim hats and turkeys and bamboo cactus just came on again. Anyway, the little pilgrim hats were made from a base of Girl Scout Thin Mints, with a small peanut-butter cup to make the top bit of the hat. There was some sort of white icing around the bottom to connect and decorate the two pieces. The turkeys were made of a sugar cookie base, with a chocolate icing to hold a chocolate kiss and m&m candies on. There was even a little wattle and everything. They were pretty cute.
There wasn't much talking during the actual meal, I think. Hopefully it was because everybody was enjoying the food so much. Afterwards, we were regaled with stories of how my Mom and her siblings used to terrorise each other as children. Also about how we were brats who knew how to negotiate. Man, I really need to record those stories, because they are told best by the people that actually lived them.
Maybe another day. I would type them up here, but they are not my stories to tell. If I get permission, you can bet that they are going right up here. Man, the look on my grandmother's face as some of these stories were told. It really hit home today that different generations have different sensibilities. I mean, I'm pretty easy going, when it comes down to it. If what somebody is doing is not hurting anyone else or themselves, what does it matter? Live and let live, you know?
Anyway, like I said before. I'm going to be moving to my Grandmother's house to help out and hopefully get a Fresh Start. I'm fairly nervous about the whole thing, because it will be the first time I have lived away from almost allof the people that I know. It's also the first time in a long time that I won't be living in Frederick County. So, it's a Big Change. Yeah, I'm capitalising a lot of this, since they are really big things to me.
I'm really not certain whether I feel happy for the change or absolutely terrified, so I think 'nervous' is a good descriptor. Luckily, I do know a couple of people in the area, so it's not like I'm headed into a place absolutely chock-full of strangers. Well, I am, but not as many as there would be otherwise. I don't deal well with large groups of people I don't know, you see.
It's why I don't like changing jobs. It's all a bunch of brand new names and faces that I have never seen before, and I can't say that it is a comfortable experience for me. Sansets lives within a mile or so, though. And so do a couple of other people, who I cannot recall the name of offhand. If I had an internet connection handy, I would have the names, but unfortunately I do not.
That's something that I am not looking forward to. I've gotten used to unfettered access to the Internet, and that is ending fairly immediately. So, I'm going to have to type up all of these posts on this laptop, transfer everything onto a thumb drive or other such thing, and then take that tothe computer hooked into the network to post. This means that I will have no real, tangible, all-hours access to the internet.
That's one of the things that drove me mad at Dad's house. Most of my generation can't live without their cell-phones. Me? I could not care any less about phones. For me, I need Internet. I get little panic attacks when I think about being cut off from my main source of news and information. How else am I supposed to keep appraised of the information that interests me? Television? No, they don't report on everything.
The Internet is wonderful because it is easy to discover all sides of an issue, all facets of a problem. You don't have to accept what a few major corporations think is good for you to know. Instead, you have things like FARK, BoingBoing, and other such news aggregators who bring us news that isn't really reported on by the Mainstream Media. For some reason all of the news channels think that we need to know about what celebrity is doing what to who, when I really care about what laws are being passed and which rights are being suppressed in new and interesting ways.
Mind you, most things on the internet should be taken with a few hearty scoops of salt, and you really must look hard for all sides of a story before you make any hard decisions. Luckily, as long as you are handy with search engines you can get a good working picture within about fifteen to twenty minutes. That's the price that you pay for not accepting what the News gives you, but it's a price that I gladly pay.
But, I digress. Again, and severely. I'm happy for that digression, though. It brought me that much closer to finishing this post, and for that I am glad. As it stands, I am about eight hundred words away, so I should hopefully be able to knock this post off in around half an hour or so. What I do not know is if I will be able to post it. Hopefully I will, elsewise tomorrow's post is going to be ridiculously long.
I do get the feeling that I will have a difficult time posting after I get to my Grandmother's house. I do really wish I had thought to pick up my camera at my Dad's house the last time I was over, but I suppose that can wait until I hit his place again. I'm not entirely certain when that will be, as I am helping out around the house here tomorrow, and zipping to Grandmother's house the day afterward.
From there, it will be a drive of at least an hour, rather than the forty-five minutes of where I was staying last. That, and I've been hearing rumours that my key no longer works at that house. Something about stolen money, and them blaming me. I don't know the full story, and I don't have ready access to my e-mail to find out. All I know is that there are things going on that I have had no part in.
I am unsettled by this. Not the rumour of me being blamed for something I didnot do, as that happens disturbingly often. I'm unsettled by my main communication method being cut off. I can deal with having no phone, but having no e-mail is nearly unthinkable. For one night when visiting people I can cope, but for extended periods of time I really do need to have ready access to it.
That is my cell-phone, I suppose. I just feel naked without some way to reach me in an emergency. Since I am generally near a computer, e=mail is that way. Now I have to get minutes for my phone and keep that handy, and that is more money than I am comfortable spending right now. I can hope that ther is an unsecured network near my Grandmother's house, but I think people are getting wise to how easy it is to secure a network.
I mean, seriously. I'm sitting here, and I can see eight different networks, and every single one of them is secured. Also, not a single one named 'linksys', which could mean a couple of things. Either everybody in the area is computer-savvy enough to set up a secure network as well as change the names, or they know someone who is. Whichever one is the truth, the end result is the same. A generally nocturnal guy can't check his e=mail.
Honestly, in the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter at all. In fact, it's really just a minor inconvenience to me. It's just that it is really my only link to people, and I prefer it not be severed like this. I suppose I should just quit whining, though. It's not solving anything, and it won't get me access. So, I suppose I will save my breath for something more important. Like, the rights of fleas and other such things.
Luckily, I only have about three hundred words to go for this post. Unluckily, it is currently 20:50. That means that I have less than ten minutes in order to finish this post,elsewise it gets postponed until tomorrow. Which would be unfortunate, but not the end of the world. I am glad that I have had an interesting adventure during the past few days, as elsewise there is no way that I would be able to get anywhere near done this quota.
So, there is no way in hell that I will be able to churn out that many words in the time alloted, so I am just going to go ahead and type as much as I can anyway. As it is, I have now written over 45000 words this month, which is no small achievement for me. I'm glad of this month, and I am glad that I have had the support of friends throughout. Had it not been for the daily question of 'You got your words in, yet?', I have no doubt that I would not have finished the first week.
But, I have good friends. I also have a good family. Really, there is not much more in life that I can ask for. Except, you know, a job. That would be awesome to have. Which is one of the reasons that I'm headed out where I am. Hopefully I can find something out there. I have hope. And another large area to canvas with job applications. So, I should be okay.
Man, I just gave myself a scare. I was reading over what I had written, and kept pronouncing the words wrong in my head. Since I know that I read things exactly as they are written, I thought for a second that I had misspelt something. I reread the sentence and it was fine. So, I trieds another one. Sure enough, I read something else wrong. Again, everything was spelt correctly.
So, the irrational hypochondriac thinks that I have suddenly developed dyslexia. Yes, part of me thought I had some rare late-onset dyslexia. I feel ashamed to admit that, but I figured it was worth a laugh. So, in order to allay those fears, I thought about some of the things it could be. There was one possibility that popped up almost immediately, so I tried it.
I started reading again, but paying attention to how my eyes were moving. So, everything was going fine and I could feel my eyes working normally. Right up until one of my eyes felt like it 'stuck' for a moment before continuing on, at which point I also misread a word. Nope, don't have some bizarre form of dyslexia, just really tired eyes. I'm glad I don't let the hypochondriac out too often, because then life would just be one malady after another.
Grah. It's 21:10, and I have this post ready and waiting to go. Unfortunately, I cannot post it. So, I get to post it tomorrow. I think I'll backdate it, though. After all, it was ready to go and all written today, I just had the rotten luck of missing the deadline by ten minutes or so. Yeah, definitely backdating it. As it is, this thing is over five thousand already, so I'm all sorts of caught up.
Goodnight everybody, and stay safe out there. Also, I have yet again broken my record for longest post. So, yay for me.