Soiree

This year you are exceedingly, abundantly fortunate, because you are privileged to at least view, if not partake of, my beautiful, succulent Thanksgiving bird. Here it be.















Unfortunately the picture cannot do sufficient justice. This, my friends, is a brined turkey. This simply means that it was soaked overnight in a very strong salt solution before we roasted it. The brining doesn't make the turkey taste salty, it just makes it incredibly juicy and gives delicious flavor. The cavity was not filled with evil, soggy stuffing, but with gently cooked apple, onion, cinnamon sticks, fresh rosemary, sage, and fresh cranberries. It is the essence of Turkey, the philosophical form of what turkey was meant to be. The whole meal was delightful, but none of the other food pictures turned out except for the beautiful pumpkin pie which I made from scratch, the first ever such pie. The edges got slightly overdone, but the pie and the crust were both delicious!















But this is a happy one of the centerpiece that I arranged. I stole the idea of putting the cranberries in the vase from a grocery store arrangement, which cost over fifty dollars. I made this one for a little over eight dollars. I'm rather proud of that.






Hope you all had a most joyous and delightful holiday!

S.

Estro-fest, or, a Whole Lotta Man-Hate

So, the atmosphere here in Houston is once again cloudy with the rankest of Man-Hate. This is no unusual occurence, and this time it was inspired by the recent travesties taking place on the season finale of The Bachelor. In case you haven't seen it, then what happened was this. The eligible man in question ended his run on the show by chosing not one, not two, but NONE of the ladies that he had so carefully whittled his choices down to. Emotions ran thick and fast on the after-show interviews as the pretty much entirely female audience looked ready to eat him alive. If they'd have had some kind of power failure and the cameras had just turned off for a second I'm sure they would have been after him like lions on Christians.

In our humble abode, the atmosphere was similarly chilly. My mom has asked all of us approximately 15 million and four times, "Why couldn't he have just continued dating one of the girls? There's no rule that he has to propose!" Then, there was the tragical attempts that the poor man was making to smooth things over, which pretty much just came out sounding like he was trying to be glib. My aunt, who is here visiting us and likewise witnessed the crash-and-burn, cautioned my sister and me, "Isn't that just like a man? They say these sweet things and they make you fall in love with them, but they're all LIES!!!"

I think the most amusing part to me is that the commercial that played immediately after the chat time for the bachelor and his rejected ladies was over, was the beautiful one for somebody like Kay Jeweler's where a couple is driving home at night, through the snow, and they're holding hands as they drive along, and the man slips a diamond necklace into the woman's hand. Isn't it beyoootiful?

Oh, wait, LIES, it's all LIES, everything that a man does that's sweet, ever, is all LIES.

[Let me just note right now that I am speaking about men in general and as they are stereotyped, not about any particular men. Actually, I have to recognize that I definitely know some guys who are really great, and really impress me. But, at the same time, it also seems like for every awesome guy I know, I know five who are incredibly immature or just downright jerks. Also, while we're in parenthesis, let me just say that I think the whole Bachelor thing was totally and completely unfair. To me, what doesn't make sense is how anyone could possible end up with any kind of lasting commitment from that show. I mean think about the whole premise and the way that show is run, go, right now, do it. Now just try and explain to me how a normal relationship, let alone a good marital relationship, could be formed in that kind of environment. Why can't all you vipers just leave the poor guy alone! Okay, I'm moving on.]

The thing is, isn't it true? How many girls and women do I know who have had their hearts broken by liars? How many divorcees do I know who have been left bitter, broke, and bereft? Do I know of any really beautiful and romantic things that any guys have done, outside of a commercial or movie? Let alone romantic, how about any kind things that a guy has done for some girl that he didn't just want to end up in bed with?

Oh, I know, I'm being totally unfair, blah blah blah. Here's another case. I started watching Everybody Loves Raymond while I was in Nigeria because, well, it was there. But, honestly, I cringe sometimes when I watch that show, and other sitcoms as well. Is every romantic thing a man does for his wife out of a sense of obligation and, dare I say it, fear of something or other? Does life for all men really revolve around sports and the Victoria's Secret catalog? Can they really not make it through life without some kind of act of infidelity? Are they so utterly emotionally stunted and mindlessly shallow as they are portrayed to be? Sometimes it just makes me sick to think about everything that I have been told, and not just for my sake, but for the guys who are also being fed this garbage and told, "This is your expectation. Now live down to it."

Unfortunately, Christianity has not done much to help me with this complex. Thanks to Focus on the Family and those of their ilk, and the ubiquitous Prov. 31, it seems like the Great American Christian man is only looking for a workhorse, someone to support their ministry, raise their kids, and all the while remain thin and beautiful and chaste, but also sexy. A woman who only exists to add value to the life of her man. Yeah, that's every woman's dream. A life long balancing act lived for someone else. O yes, sign us all up for that one.

Sigh. Maybe I need to check myself into some kind of clinic. I don't want to think this way. I feel like the atmosphere around me is always toxic, full of angry women and silly sitcoms that are trying to make me believe something that I really, really don't want to believe. I'm sorry, guys. I'm pulling for you, I really am. What can I do to change my mind? I wish I knew. If I knew what to do, I would do it. At least I hope I would. I want to be fair and balanced and positive and open-minded. No, I want more than that, I want to be able to respect you as a group. I want the sterotypes proved wrong so many times that they can no longer exist. I want to expect good things from you instead of bad. I want to be amazed. I think, maybe, we all do. And the more we complain, the more we long to be proved wrong.

So go ahead. Be awesome. I dare you.

List Maker

Hmmm...so October 14 was the last time I posted? Coming up on a month ago? Kai, that's not doing so hot. So perhaps you're sitting out there in Internet-land thinkin, "Hey, stupid, you better toss up some more of your mindless dribble on this sorry excuse for a blog, my attention is wandering!" To which I must cordially reply, "You're a jerk! This blog isn't for you anyway, if that's all the nicer you can be, Mr. Doody-Head!"

And now, Mr. Doody-Head, you're going to feel really guilty when I tell you that the reason that I haven't really been able to post for my last few weeks in Africa is because me and a couple of friends were the victims of an armed robbery and, tho my laptop was fortunately not stolen, we were moved out of that compound with its luxurious amenities such as wireless internet, into a number of other places where the access was not quite so accessible. Almost like what you'd imagine Africa to be. But not really. Now perhaps you are all curious about said robbery and wanting all sorts of explanations and details. But I am currently in Charlotte, debriefing from the whole missions experience and the robbery in particular and I pretty much feel like I've talked about the whole damn thing until I'm quite blue in the face. So giving all you anonymous masses who surely devotedly read this blog the details is the last thing I feel like doing right now. That you know that it happened is enough.

I OWE YOU NOTHING!!!!

Okay, now I need to muster up something else of interest to talk about. Well, currently, as I said, I am in Charlotte, where the leaves have postponed their beautiful fall peak colors for my arrival in order for God to vindicate his existence to me and where the coffee is abundant and delicious and where I have finally caved and am listening to Jack Johnson of my own volition, crooning from my very own computer, for the first time and he is unfortunately making me fall in love with him already, or at least wish I was in love with someone. I'll banana your pancakes, Jack, O yes. And now I present this:

Things that are nice about America:
--Fall Leaves
--Coffee
--Power that doesn't go out periodically and, therefore,
--Food in the fridge not going bad
--Mexican food
--Ready-made clothes
--Ready-made lots of thing, for that matter, like granola bars
--Television (it's evil, but I love it)
--Coffee (also those fancy creamers that go in coffee)
--Grocery stores
--Cheese
--Smooth roads
--Water pressure in the shower
--Being able to drink alcohol moderately without having others think you're a sinner (well, most of the time), which brings me to,
--Margaritas!
--Public libraries so you don't have to depend on other people's collection of Francine Rivers novels for reading material
--Dancing with the Stars!!!
--Being able to rinse your mouth with water straight from the tap (you have no idea how huge this is)
--No more mosquito bites (until next summer)
--Not having to be afraid to swim in bodies of water that aren't swimming pools
--Missing dry season and Harmattan

This list is not exhaustive, just my first impressions on being back in the States and feeling like I should be grateful for what I have here. I could make another list about all that I miss about being in Nigeria, but that would make me sad. In other news, Hatian church this morning, which was really cool. Went out to a West African restaurant the other night (misleadingly named "Kilimanjaro"...get it, because Kilimanjaro is in...never mind) and an Ethiopian restaurant the night before that. Other than that, just hanging out, freezing my butt off because Charlotte in November is a lot colder than Nigeria in November and because all the clothes I have with me are for Nigeria in November.

Big question now is what to do when I get back to Houston. Anyone?