Small Steps Forward

It’s posts like these which are the bane of my raw existence. Popeye’s, I can handle. I’ve reached the point in my raw food journey where I easily slough off the delicious smells wafting from that chicken shack. But this guy’s post on how to make your own bacon makes me remember meat, conveniently forgetting the sluggishness and mind-as-muck sensations which would inevitably follow, not to mention all the health concerns.

On the plus side, I modified a recipe and now have the raw food version of hamburger. I haven’t dehydrated it yet (it’s so good that it never makes it to the dehydrator), but I’m working on it. I’m eager to see what they taste like dehydrated, on a onion sesame bun with all the fixin’s. In the meantime, here’s the recipe:

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Ahhhh. The hunt for the perfect GTD app may have just ended for me. I have been testing OmniFu, but it hasn’t been doing it for me. Before I got my invite to test the alpha version of Fu, a fellow geek who had already played with it shared his dissatisfaction with the program. I was surprised. How could you not like OmniFu? Everyone knew it was the second coming. Then I got my invite and started working with it. … It’s just not me. I don’t know what it is. I can’t put my finger on it, but I just don’t get that warm and fuzzy feeling from it like I do with OmniWeb, OmniGraffle and OmniOutliner.

After all the hype of OmniFu these many months, I’ve worked up a dissatisfaction with Kinkless. It’s a great program, but now all of its faults and bugs are intolerable. I can’t go back. So I’m in GTD limbo. Well, I was until this morning.

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My cat’s on the keyboard again. I was searching for something on eBay, but now my cat’s sitting on my keyboard.

What is it about cats and computers anyway? Do they see us looking at our screens the way they look at birds and wonder what all the fuss is about since nothing on the screen is wriggling around?

I don’t know, but I’m afraid my cat is going to buy something and I’m going to have to pay for it.

The cursor is blinking at me.

Make it stop.

It only stops when it’s moving.
It’s only moving when I’m typing.

I just can’t think of anything to write.

The cursor is blinking at me.

Make it stop.

… ….

Arrrgh. Fine! I’ll write.

I’ve been thinking about how strong the impulse tendency has been in my life and tracing the roots of it. Looking back, I realized that a large part of my impatience stemmed from childhood. (What a surprise.)

I remember reading The House On Mango Street. The book is told from the point of view of Esperanza, a little girl whose family keeps moving. In one of the vignettes, Esperanza talks about the house they’re going to move to one day. A huge white house with marble floors and a winding staircase (I’m paraphrasing). Her family has moved a lot, and her parents keep telling her and her siblings about the house they will someday live in. Eventually she realizes this house is never going to happen.

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“How does the body adjust to cooked food? The body creates mucus and uses this mucus as a filter. All the surfaces of the digestive tract that are designed to absorb the nutrients from food become covered with mucus film that protects blood from toxins. The mucus film begins at the tongue and continues all the way through the intestines. Many people can see this mucus on their tongue. People who have a thick mucus coating on their intestines usually have white tongues as if they just ate sour cream. The body creates a little mucus, to begin with, to filter out the toxins from the cooked food. The more cooked food we consume, the more mucus the body produces as a protection. The more harmful the food substance are to the body, the more this mucous film builds up. As the years go by it becomes thicker and harder.

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I don’t know about others, but I always do a mental cringe when a white person starts talking to me about having black friends, or fighting for civil rights, or whatever they think is necessary to get you to give them a pass for being white.

The problem is that you don’t have a pass to give them. If they’re a person and you like them as a person, then it doesn’t matter what color they are. And if they’re a person and you don’t like them as a person, then it doesn’t matter how many black friends they have or that they babysat MLK’s kids. So you don’t even want to begin a conversation on that basis because it ultimately doesn’t matter a single blanking bit. Continue Reading »

I love it when the world makes sense. So I was writing this out, and writing is like taking inventory sometimes, and it all came together.

First, we’re going to have to back up about a year, when I first started hanging out at this place. About a week or two of hanging out with the regulars, the subject of the owner came up and nobody had anything good to say about him. Actually, they were downright vehement in their hatred. Now, I had met the owner, and not only did he seem like a nice guy, he seemed like the kind of guy you would want to go have a beer with. A great conversationalist, someone able to hold forth on a range of different topics. But what did I know? I hadn’t been there long, maybe there was something I was missing. It did bug me, though, that in their rage, none of them could cite specific incidences; all their venom seemed kind of vague and generalized. Continue Reading »

This is going to be one of those long, involved things. I’ve been busy mind-mapping, working to find my lay of the land here. So many different factors to cover, integrate, and have it all make sense. Good luck, I think to myself. I’ve been doing this blank for weeks.

So all this introspection and analyzing started with Something Happening. In this case, a guy at a coffee shop I used to hang out at accused me of being an Assburger. Actually, he claimed I had Aspberger’s, but I really like Assburger better.
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Okay. I am so avoiding doing this blog entry. Like, in huge monstrous ways. I know it will be good for me to write about this. I know it will be a relief to get this off my chest. I know it’s been bugging me, itching away like chicken pox, to just write, and I am still putting it off.

Part of the problem is that it’s one of those long, complex affairs, in which I have to follow each thread, fleshing out things I’m unsure how to describe. Part of the problem is that it’s unresolved, and what I write here today may not be true for me tomorrow; I tend towards perfectionism and completeness, and this issue seems open, sloppy, and undone. Continue Reading »