This was my very first experiment with candy and it came out great, and I felt like it was really easy! I think the key is to have an accurate candy thermometer (here’s a link to how to test them) and to follow the directions to the letter. Don’t leave it alone or answer the phone while cooking it, and it will be just fine. This toffee has the consistency of a Skor bar and the molasses and espresso powder are hard to identify in the final taste but really give it something good.  I dream of having this broken up over coffee ice cream to make my own coffee heath bar crunch, but I’m pretty happy with it straight too.

Coffee Toffee
from Smitten Kitchen

1 cup (2 sticks or 8 ounces) butter (I assume she meant unsalted, but I didn’t know, and all I had was salted, so I went a bit light on the added salt)
1/2 cup light brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons molasses (can swap corn syrup or honey)
1/4 teaspoon salt (or a heaping 1/4 teaspoon flaky sea salt – I used a scant 1/4 teaspoon of flaky sea salt to compensate for my butter, and it tasted perfect)
1 1/2 teaspoons instant espresso powder (I saw in her comments that people who were having trouble finding this ingredient used the new instant coffee powder from Starbucks – they sell it in little packets)
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips, or 6 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
1/2 cup chopped hazelnuts (toasted, skinned and cooled) or another nut of your choice
Note: to roast hazelnuts, roast them for about 12-14 minutes on a baking sheet at 350. Dump them off onto a dishcloth and wrap them up in it and leave them there until cool. This gets about 85-90% of the skins off – you can roll them around in the dish cloth to get most of them, but some of them will just have to be rolled between your fingers to get skins off.

Line a small baking sheet (she used a 9×13, which I don’t have, so I just spread it around on a bigger one but didn’t make it go to the edges) with parchment paper or a silicon mat and set aside.

In medium heavy saucepan (I used a 3-quart) with a candy thermometer attached, melt butter, brown sugar, white sugar, molasses, salt and espresso together over medium heat. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally with a whisk (she says that one that reaches into the corners is especially helpful here, but my regular whisk did a good job) until the temperature approaches 250F, at which point you should stir constantly until it reaches 300F. This is important – whisk whisk whisk without stopping from the 250 to 300 mark or the butter might separate out later in yucky pools. A lot of the candy failures in her comments were people who stepped away at this point and didn’t whisk constantly

Pour immediately into the prepared baking sheet — you can spread it more evenly with a offset or silicon spatula but don’t worry if you have neither (though my silicon scraper is an indispensable tool in my kitchen) . Sprinkle the chocolate chips over the toffee and let them sit for a minute until soft, then spread the chocolate evenly over the candy base. Sprinkle the chocolate with chopped hazelnuts and then let it cool until set. We have a handy breezeway – we put it out there to cool as it’s cold out right now, but warm weather toffee makers and impatient people might want to put it into the freezer to set faster.

Break into pieces and store in an airtight container. If you’re kitchen runs warm, you might prefer to keep it in the fridge so the chocolate doesn’t get soft.

Christmas is on Friday, so this seemed like the appropriate post to..eh post.Five things to look forward to this winter, and five things to avoid.

1. Snow Activities (Snowman, snow fights, igloos, Sled riding, Skiing etc.)

2. Hot Drinks  (They taste extra good when it’s cold outside)

3. A Charlie Brown Christmas

4.Colored Light Displays

5. Snow days (For those still in school)

********************************************

1. Yellow Snow

2.Smelly People (Those who think it’s ok to bathe less, since it’s not hot outside)

3.Poorly Done Holiday TV Movies (There are some good ones and then there are some baaaaad ones)

4. Your electric bill after the colored light displays

5. Gray Slush

~Nicole

OK people, fresh off the victory of my pretty bathroom counter, I am now about to crash and burn. But this is a PERFECT example of the madness that will come from a cluttered life.

So. I’ll go waaaaaaay back to the beginning, to my lovely childhood in a hamlet in New Jersey, where our jolly neighbor Mrs. Kiesselbach would gift us with this incredible plate of buttery spritz cookies each year. We LIVED for these cookies. So beautiful and perfect and delicious. Imagine my delight when I reached adulthood and realized I could purchase this nifty contraption and make them myself. (Mrs. K was long gone by then)

I bought a fancy metal imported cookie press. I made spritz cookies which awed and delighted my loved ones. (and me, too) But then one year the little metal ring that holds the cookie mold forms onto the tube went missing.

You can’t make the cookies without the little metal ring.

I really wanted to make the cookies again. But I did not want to spend big bucks on a whole other fancy metal contraption. So I bought a cheaper plastic version. I made cookies.

You can guess what happened: THAT ring went missing, too.

You an see the photos. We also have these beautiful metal rosette forms for making these dip-and-fry snowflake and tree cookies that melt in your mouth and are so delicate and amazing. But guess what? THOSE forms, which I have managed to save since my high school days, came with a little metal stick with a wooden handle knob on the hand.  The stick screws into the form so that you don’t burn your fingers in the hot oil.

Can’t make those kind of cookies, either. And, we have been invited to a holiday cookie exchange party TOMORROW, which I was so excited about. Until now.

Now, I KNOW there are other cookies I can make that require nothing more than a bowl and a metal sheet. But that isn’t the point. The point is that I am so completely MADDENED by the absence of these small essential items, that render the entire collection of baking things USELESS, that I could jump off the roof. But I won’t.

But this very thing is what is emblematic of my Problem. It isn’t 100% about aesthetics, it’s about many aspects of my life NOT WORKING because I can’t find some stupid thing.

It’s ALMOST functional. But not. We keep all the baking things together in one special baking cabinet. The cookie cutters, and sprinkles and food coloring and other fancy stuff all stays together. So in that way, I know where the stuff is at least SUPPOSED to be. But then these small things go missing and the whole thing is shot to hell.

This is one of the functions of many people living together. AND we are fortunate enough to have someone who helps us clean once a week. (I can only imagine the sheer horror if that was not the case) But what happens is, these little things go in the dishwasher or the sink, and then Someone (I am not pointing fingers, it could be ANY of us) sees this random piece of plastic or metal and has no idea what it is, and maybe it goes in some random Junk drawer, or maybe the trash. I have sifted through the junk drawer and found no cookie-press rings. I am so sad.

This post is the equivalent of standing and being photographed in my underwear before embarking on a weight loss journey. It is humiliating. It is disgusting. But somehow, I feel it is necessary.  It is like those 400+pound people standing on the scale on Biggest Loser. The only way they can survive such exposure is the HOPE that things will change, and they will be different. That is my hope as well.

Welcome to my house.

Last week I broke my cellphone.

This event alone was pretty sucky. I had to go back to my old phone, which I guess isn’t too bad, if I was living in the industrial revolution. Anyway, while I was mourning the loss of my phone, I tried half-heartedly to turn it on just to see if maybe it would magically begin working again, even though the screen was cracked in numerous places and attached by only one hinge.

I held the power button, and was surprised to hear it play its turn-on jingle. The screen even lit up, albeit non-functional or readable. Finally accepting the fact that this mobile was no more, I sighed and set the phone down on my desk.

Then, something happened.

It beeped. Then it beeped again. Then it beeped twelve more fucking times. This wasn’t the battery-low beep or the you-are-out-of-service-range beep, but a you-have-an-unread-text-message beep.

MOTHER FUCKER.

Sitting on my broken phone, right now, are FOURTEEN unread text messages, from presumably the party I was at when my phone decided to un-hinge itself. Those text messages could be ANYTHING! It could be an enemy of mine telling me that he is going to burn my house down, or maybe a friend telling me that he won the lottery and wants to buy me a house, or the girl of my dreams professing her total and uncontrollable love toward me!

I WILL NEVER KNOW.

The pain of this horrible, horrible truth is much worse than the fact that my phone doesn’t work anymore. The way I see it, you can always buy a new phone, but you can NEVER read a text-message that is lost forever on a broken piece of shit.

Oh, and yes, I did check to see if my carrier backs up my messages on the Internet or something similar. They don’t.

It might have been Kristen Stewart that was texting me. Or should I say… sexting me…

- Not Impressed

This was a hit for sure at the Thanksgiving table. It was served warm with homemade vanilla ice cream. The best part was that it was made in a muffin tin, which made perfect little single sized servings. Perfect on top of full bellies. I liked this recipe a lot, but I would be open to experimenting with other gingerbread recipes, as I know I’ve tasted others that have knocked my socks off more than this one. Not that this one is bad – I’d certainly make it again. If anyone out there has “the perfect gingerbread cake”, I want to hear about it. Check out this post from Smitten Kitchen – she made a whole one, and her recipe is slightly different. Definitely worth trying at some point…
Oh yes, and I cut this recipe in half which made about 10 or 11 cakes.

1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour (I used whole wheat pastry flour as I was out of whole wheat flour)
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ginger
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/2 cup butter, room temperature
1/2 cup light brown sugar
1/2 cup molasses
1/2 cup maple syrup
1 egg
3 T sour cream
1 cup boiling water
6-7 apples
extra cinnamon and sugar
First, preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.  Butter enough muffin tins to make 28-30 muffins.  (she had one pan that made a dozen muffins, two that each made eight, and she used a ramekin for the excess batter.  Just in case you’re interested.)  Alternatively, you can grease a 13 x 9 inch pyrex baking dish.
Next, whisk all the dry ingredients together – both flours, baking powder, spices, and baking soda.  Set them aside.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat together the butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy. 
Mix the egg and sour cream together in a small bowl and set aside.
Peel and slice apples into 1/4″ slices, across the apple. I used a melon baller to help me cut the core out of the middle of each slice, leaving as much apple as possible. The blogger who wrote this recipe up had a teeny tiny star shaped cookie cutter that cut out the core in a most adorable way, but I didn’t have that.
I did have a round cookie cutter that was just a tiny bit smaller than the bottom of the muffin tin.  I trimmed the slices of apple with this cookie cutter so they’d fit.
Anyway, mix together some sugar and cinnamon – I like about 3/4 of a cup of sugar and a tablespoon of cinnamon, but use whatever ratio you like.  Toss that with your apple circles in a bowl. Coat the apples well.
Now put one apple slice in the bottom of each muffin section of the tins.
Now it’s time to finish making your batter.  Once the batter is complete, you need to work quickly to portion it out in the muffin tins and get everything in the oven.
Get your water boiling now….
You’ve got your butter and sugars (brown, molasses, maple syrup) combined.  Now you need to add the dry mixture and the egg/sour cream mixture, alternating additions – first a third of the dry, then half the wet, a third of dry, the rest of the wet, and the rest of the dry. Mix only until combined; you don’t want to overwork the flour as it’ll make your gingerbread tough.
Once you’ve mixed in the last of the flour mixture, pour in your cup of boiling water and mix everything together just enough til the batter is thinner and pourable.

Now, if you were just making this in a large baking dish, I’d say pour it in.  But with the muffin tins, you need to take a little more care.  I used a small ladle.  You want the batter to come to about a half inch of the lip of the tin.
Once you’ve got all the batter distributed, put the muffin pans (or baking dish) in the oven.  Bake for about ten minutes, and then rotate the pans and bake for another 5-10 minutes.  The gingerbread should be slightly springy to the touch and pulling away a bit from the edges of the pan.  If you’re using a 13 x 9 inch pan, you’ll need to bake for about 30 minutes total, so rotate at about fifteen minutes and start checking at 25 minutes.

Let the muffins cool for a few minutes in the pans, and then invert the pans onto a flat plate or cutting board or whatever works.  Let the pans rest, upside down, for a few minutes so that gravity will help you.

She found that when she inverted the pans and slammed them a bit in the process, that helped knock the gingerbread out.  If the gingerbread comes out but the apple stays behind, use a thin spatula or a spoon to nudge the apple out and just place it back on the gingerbread where it belongs. I used a silicone spatula to gently scoop the cake and its apple out of the tin.

At the moment I hate Christmas. It’s just turned into some crazy shopping hysteria, and no one even cares about what it originally is about. Now, that’s nothing I should speak of, since I’m an atheist. But I’ve always thought of Christmas at the one holiday where all of your friends and family gathers, you eat good food, and appreciate the little things in life, like having your grandparents at your side, even after they have turned 80. Since I’ve been feeling alone and isolated lately, lost my grandmother, became a vegetarian, basically hates life at the moment, and can’t really find many things to be grateful for, it’s not that weird that I’m not looking forward to this Christmas. And plus, I’m as ugly as I’ve never been before, my grades suck, I’ve got a pile of homework in mathematics to do over the holiday, and oh – the doctors think I might have cancer.
The only thing left to be happy about now is the presents – but of course, there won’t be that many for me this year.

OH, HAPPY DAY!

I forgot something. Since I lost my job, used way too much money on Alexander Wang, and different things, I’m poor. I’m not used to not having less than 400 dollars on my card. I can’t even buy the Christmas presents I planned to (yes, I do know it’s entirely my fault). I wanted to give my still-living grandmother, whom I love dearly, 200 dollars. She deserves it. Too bad it isn’t happening.
Luckily I’ve bought my mom an iPod, and my best friend a pair of Lacoste shoes (I went crazy with guilt), so I’ve only got 3 presents left to buy (I had to cut down on the amount of people receiving a gift from me. I try to justify it by telling myself that I’m an unemployed 16-year-old.)

Merry fucking Christmas!

Yesterday, I was watching TV (I only have an antenna), and I switched to some church channel or something and this guy came on:

I was upset, I still am, I probably will be for awhile. I’m not sure why I do these things to myself.

I play a lot of video games, which normally I don’t consider a bad thing, until I found myself standing in line to buy this game:

It became an even worse thing when I got home and spent money purchasing more bad songs to sing like:

“More than a feeling”

“Take on Me”

and

“Flash Dance”

I’ve been to Las Vegas three times in my life. Once when I was nineteen, when I flew there all by myself to see Jane’s Addiction. Once with my girlfriend on a road trip. And once with my family. I don’t like to gamble, and I’ve never been to a strip club, but I like to watch other people do these things and I like lights. For my birthday, I would like to go to this show:

at

A couple of months ago I went on a trip to Portland. As the airplane was taking off I listened to this song:

To make matters worse, I usually sing this song whenever I find myself in the presence of a karaoke machine.

I’ve been doing a lot of bad things lately. Namely, watching a lot of romantic comedies. I thought it was bad when I rented Two Weeks Notice, and started thinking that Sandra Bullock was actually kind of cute (Note: Normally, I am quite adamant about how much I dislike her) But last night I reached bottom. I did something I swore I’d never do, and I regret it.

I watched this movie:

A few days ago, I decided that I need a mustache necklace.  Why?  Why do I need a mustache necklace?  So I can do things like the girl in the picture.  I need to have a mustache handy to make a point…like, all the time.  (If you want your own mustache necklace, you can get it here)

I was telling Justin this, and he thought it was ridiculous.  A mustache necklace is never ridiculous.  Ever.  I suggested that he get a mustache tattoo.  Over his nipple.  He told me he didn’t think that was a good idea.  And, he barely even laughed.  WTF?  Then, I said I am going to get a mustache tattoo over my nipple.  Then we could have matching mustache tattoos over our nipples.  And it was going to be wonderful.  There was silence.  Justin told me he would break up with me if I get a mustache tattoo.  Especially if it is over my nipple.  I told him he doesn’t believe in true love.  Like me.  He is such a downer.

Sometimes religious people make me want to believe in god, just so I can ask him nicely to smite them all down.

Let me begin by saying that I am an atheist. Now I’m not one of those super hardcore lets-convert-all-the-god-followers kind of atheists. I’m just a dude who doesn’t think there is a magical all-knowing guy up in space somewhere who is in charge of everything.

Let me also state that I’m a fairly dedicated optimist and freethinker. I have the innate ability to find positive things in negative situations, and if I’m approached with a new ideal or way of thinking, I welcome it with open arms and judge it’s validity based on reason, facts, and logic. Usually this works great. I get through the day feeling happy, mostly stress-free, collapse into bed at night with a gigantic smile on my face, and the whole world continues to be fabricated from rainbows, sunshine, and unicorn poop.

However.

These religious dudes that I see from time to time can really turn my smile into a painful grimace of rage. It’s not the average religious people that get me – they are usually fine. It’s the religious people that insist that the whole goddamn world is centered around them and their wonderful, loving, perfect space-god.

Let me introduce to you, a website:

www.standforchristmas.com

I was pointed to this site by a friend. My curiosity was fueled by the clearly upset tone at which he referenced said website to me, so naturally I clicked it and held my breath.

Basically, this website – Stand For Christmas – is a social hub where Christians from all over the globe can get together and participate in a massive religious circle-jerk that consists of throwing harsh words at various stores and merchants. Harsh words for what, you ask? For the various businesses not celebrating Christmas to a satisfactory Christian level.

You are reeling in horror, I know. This is the time where you, the reader, visit the site and take a look for yourself.

I read a few pages in the Retailer Ratings section. The fact that I am trying very hard right now to type this up in a well-mannered, gentlemanly way is a proof to how very upset with humans I am.

The god-followers seem to forget that they are not the center of the fucking universe. Ditching all scraps of manners and reasonable thought, they swarm and rage and fuel each others’ fires like some kind of berserking wasps made of napalm and holy water.

Below is a personal favourite of mine:

My husband and I spoke with several staff members when making a fairly large purchase. Everyone was polite and helpful, but no acknowledgement of what holiday we’re celebrating was ever mentioned. It was a disppointing and insulting.

Everyone was polite and helpful, eh? Hmm, that sounds like an absolutely marvelous time at Best Buy. But wait! That employee didn’t acknowledge that it was Christmas! How insulting!

If you thought that was great, feel free to peruse the rest of the site. I guarantee you will leave feeling not only less intelligent, but also with a tangible feeling of what can only be described as disappointment.

- Happy Shopper

SOOOO…. it’s been a while since I last wrote. Before this long post gets going, let me first say this:

I JUST SENT OUT MY DISSERTATION TO MY COMMITTEE YESTERDAY!

Ok. Now, the story of what happened between the last post, after the meeting with QRG, and yesterday.

In the wake of the QRG showdown, which wasn’t really a showdown, but just a conversation, I came home and started to write up the entire dissertation (the “diss” hereafter). The format was to be a manuscript thesis, so I’d have an introduction chapter, two chapters comprised of two old publications, a methods publication, a journal paper with the current results, and a conclusion. After the QRG meeting, I began to chip away at the methods article chapter, feeling confident that I could get the draft together in about a week after all the prep for the QRG discussion.I also start the scheduling process, after checking with the adviser that it was ok to do so.

Writing takes longer than I expect, of course, and the adviser is globetrotting so I never get time with him on the phone. I keep plowing forward, and three weeks later, I finish the draft, and send it to the advsier. He writes back, saying it looked great, and that I had no excuse not to be an academic (I’d always argued that my challenges with writing would make academia unbearable for me). He offered one grammar change, but that was it. The defense had been scheduled at this point, with 4 out of 5 being ok with the date. The 5th couldn’t make it, but suggested a one-on-one meeting, so it was all good.

Then, I started to get to the “results” article chapter. It was going slowly, but smoothly for the most part. Then, I hear from the 5th professor who couldn’t make the defense. Apparently she was upset about not being included, and wasn’t happy about it. Given the other information I had from another student who talked to her about the defense, she seemed incensed about not being catered to, and that’s why she wasn’t writing me back as I tried to schedule. Geez. So I decide to reschedule if possible, find a new date and time, and escape with only a few of the committee folks being pissed at me for changing the date. Lovely.

Writing continues, the results paper get the ok, and I turn to the introduction. I write intro “A”, it gets rejected by the adviser. It’s now the Sunday before Thanksgiving. I write intro “B”, and then my adviser asks about what’s being frustrating about it. I say, it’s tough to frame the manuscript thesis. After 15 minutes, he says, “I think I want you to reorganize your paper into a traditional format. Not the manuscript thesis.” Bear in mind, this is 3 days before the paper is supposed to go out to the  committee.

I say ok, you know this is supposed to go out Friday, right? He says yes, but that the manuscript thesis is too difficult for the reader to understand. Ugh. So I stay up until 3AM writing and reorganizing, and send it off the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

I don’t get anything until 10pm. He gives me 2 paragraphs of feedback. Then says, “You know, you might consider postponing. I know it will be more money, but, you wouldn’t have to fry yourself out trying to meet some arbitrary deadline.”

At this point I lose it and start bawling. And, I tell my husband that I’m quitting. If I can’t defend it when it was scheduled, I was just quitting. He calms me down, and I end up calling my adviser at 10:30 at night, and talk for an hour. He says that it’s not impossible for me to still defend, but that it might just be easier to postpone. I tell him that I’m quitting if it don’t defend in Dec. He says that’s silly. I say that he has no idea how much I’ve sacrificed to get this done, and done now. He says, I know there this a psychological and emotional cost if you don’t defend in December, but in the grand scheme of things no one is dying, etc…. and that I might want to postpone to make sure I sailed through the defense instead of getting hammered by the committee and then him having to say “well, she’s been here for so long, that she just needs to be done, so let’s just pass her.” Lovely. We go back and forth, and finally at the end, he says that I can just write as much as I can until Sunday night, and then we’d decide from there. And ultimately, it was my decision to submit or not, so we could see where we were at on Sunday.

So the next day is Thanksgiving. I get my head in the game, and call him in the morning to discuss his feedback. He says I sound better, and that he didn’t sleep very well because he was worried about me. Forgive me if I wasn’t too sympathetic.

I take  a break to have turkey with a friend and her parents, then head back to the office. Say up until 3:30AM, head to bed, get up at 7:30, back to the office. Repeat this routine Saturday. Sunday I stay up until 5:30 Monday morning, then up at 8AM. By this point, intro, theory, methods and results are mostly approved. I am getting pretty tired.

Monday, I write Discussion chapter A. It’s rejected by the adviser. Tuesday I write Discussion chapter B. It’s better than A, but adviser says I can’t prove what I wrote. I stay up to 4:30am both nights. Finally, Tuesday night I write my third discussion chapter, send it to the adviser, and wave the white flag. I say that I’m out of time and energy, and I just need to send this out, and that I would just take the lumps in the defense if the draft wasn’t good enough.

Thursday morning, a week after Thanksgiving and 6 days overdue, he writes back.

First, he says, just to be clear, it’s not your decision when to submit. “Your work reflects on everyone in the group, including me, so the final decision is mine.” So I guess he was lying before, when he said it was ultimately up to me, before Thanksgiving?

Second, he gives me some scathing feedback. Because neither of us had time for “niceties” at this point. But luckily the work was almost finished, if I just made a few final changes. Then I could send it out.

Third, he says that we should talk after this is all over, because of course he wants to learn from this, but he wants to make sure that I take the right lesson away from the whole experience. Which I think was something about not using the deadlines as an excuse to compromise quality or something.

Ugh. I am super upset, and super fried, at this point. My friend E calls, she’s on the ground there, and heard about the email and wanted to make sure I was ok. I wasn’t, and she was an incredible friend in that moment, helping me process, deal, and get the work done. Thanks, E. you totally saved me, in more ways than one!

So, I finally submitted the thing @ 3am Friday morning. E circulated hard copies for me, and I’m still on to defend this coming Friday.

Phew!

I can’t believe that in the last week, I’ve written about 140 pages, gotten about 4 hours of sleep per night, and dealt with a complete change in format, a suggestion to postpone, and more emotional abuse from my adviser… and have lived to tell about it.

Oh yeah. My adviser said congratulations, and that this is what success felt like. That I somehow managed to push the thing over the finish line, before it killed me. Nice.

I’m sure there will be more posts coming about this whole process, but I just wanted to document it here initially while it was still fresh. I want to post about the “real” acknowledgments I wanted to write, as well as how my adviser’s perspectives are so skewed. But for now, I’m just happy it’s in, and that I can get a little sleep!

I am soooooooooo addicted to ebay!  It’s ridiculous.  I was at my friend’s house the other day for a girls’ night, and I was on my iPhone and she was all like, what are you doing?  And, I shamefully responded, I’m on ebay, and she told me she was going to take my phone away.

There is a freakin’ ebay app for the iPhone.  Seriously?  How am I supposed to get off of ebay if my damn phone is pinging me every 5 minutes, telling me something I am watching is about to end or that I just got outbid?  I have to win because I am a competitive ass because I need that sweater/dress/headband/tights/shirt.  I need it.  Also, if someone has set her highest bid above mine and it’s more than I want to pay, I have started just running up the price, dollar by dollar out of spite.  So she has to pay more.  What is wrong with me?

Dude, my grandmother told me about this ebay thing that comes in and bids for you in the last 30 seconds.  I want to share it with you, but what if you use it and we are bidding on the same thing and you outbid me because I told you about this program?  I have a problem.  It’s definitely a sickness.  I need help.

I met J.D. Smith, author of the children’s picture book The Best Mariachi in the World (Raven Tree Press), at the Poetry Conference at West Chester University. He’s currently circulating two collections of poetry, one each in formal and free verse, and another children’s manuscript. His essay collection, Dowsing and Science, is scheduled for publication by Texas Review Press in 2010. He agreed to answer a few probing questions here at Treated & Released, in spite of the fact that I never can tell whether he’s joking or being completely serious.

—Robin

Treated & Released:

J.D. Smith 

Who is Rob Omura, and why are you and I friends with him on Facebook?

I only know about Rob through Facebook, and it seems we have a lot of mutual writer friends. Like myself, he seems to have interests in several different genres. I think his range also includes crime fiction and poetry, and there may be more. Some people can only be described as champion Facebook networkers. The Greek poet Dimitri Kraniotis and Suzanne Vega have both filled up their maximum of 5,000 friends and are, I think, on to their “B” profiles for more friends.

OK. Tracked him down. It appears Rob Omura is a lawyer in Calgary (environmental law, we’re happy to discover) and an editor for Goldfish Press in Eustis, Florida. You and Rob have had stories published in Bad Things. It’s all starting to make sense to me now.

I presume you’ve never tried your hand at screenwriting, or have you?

As a matter of fact, I have. In the 1990s I wrote the first draft of a screenplay, not really knowing what I was doing—and it shows. Right now I am using that text as the outline of a crime novel, my first novel of any kind. I should also note that the story of my one-act play “Dig” has been optioned for adaptation by Meydenbauer Entertainment, and director Joshua Caldwell and a collaborator have been at work on this. I should also note that “Dig” will be produced in London by the organization CurvingRoad in June of 2010. As of December 3, we are starting to work on revisions of the script.

I additionally have a very particular idea for a character-driven screenplay I would like to write, and I have ideas for two full-length plays as well.

I’ve read some of your poetry, your noir fiction, and the children’s picture book. What motivates you to write in such diverse styles?

In large part I am driven by curiosity and an appetite for novelty. I try to answer the question of “Can I do this?” Sometimes the answer is no, and sometimes it’s a much different “this” than I could have imagined. In addition, I seem to have creative wells that fill and go dry at different times, so working in several genres gives me the opportunity to feel that I am always working on something. By temperament I am also an eclectic “fox” rather than a specialized “hedgehog,” so I have a great many moods and interests. I have also learned the hard way that I cannot say everything I would like to say in only one genre, so branching out represents a necessity.

What other forms does your writing appear in, and where can I see excerpts?

Other forms I’ve tried include literary fiction, humorous erotica (I’m not sure there’s really any other kind), essays, commentary, and humor. Some of these overlap. I’ve pasted below a variety of links, which range from high to low culture.

Los Angeles Times: “Pop a pill and save a rhino”

The Barcelona Review: “Reading as Vacation”

Clean Sheets Erotica Magazine: “Exceptions”

Exquisite Corpse: “From the Management”

Ducts.org, the webzine of personal stories: “Diary Excerpt”

Grist: “How a little blue pill could get big results—in species conservation, we mean”

McSweeney’s: “Food, Drink, and Condiment Names That May Also Serve As Names of Ecdysiasts and/or Adult Film Stars” and
“Plant-Animal Hybrids That May Result from Genetic Engineering”

The Big Jewel: “Proclamation and Manifesto of the ADLF”

Yankee Pot Roast: “A Field Guide to Selected Western Artists”

Salt: “Reasons for Not Wearing Black”

FLYMF: “My Fetishist Things,” “As a Matter of Fact, I Am the Person You Have to Blow to Get a Table Around Here,” and “The Great Tuvalu Liquidation Sale”

Big Muddy: “My Coronation”

Connecticut Review: “Icons and Idols”

The Laurel Review: “The News”

MiPOesias: “The Interview”

Gee, thanks, J.D. That only took me 45 minutes to link up. I kept the list in order, which reminds me—I always read things literally, so at first I thought you meant you’d arranged your credits in order from high to low. That would be riskier than a career in the financial sector. Speaking of which, can you tell the truth about your day job in the financial sector?

I can indeed reveal the truth about my day job, as I am not any sort of Beltway player. I sometimes describe myself as a Washington outsider. By day I work as the assistant editor for the research department of the Inter-American Development Bank—one of those polysyllabic only-in-DC kind of jobs. What all that means is that I help to clarify the prose of economists who generally do not have English as their first language.

If you could choose anyone alive today, which famous person would you want to record the audiobook version of The Best Mariachi in the World?

The name that comes to mind is Edward James Olmos. He could give the text a weight and depth that few others would provide.

I had to take pictures of a ton of chairs yesterday.  And now I have a lot of chair pics on my iPhone.  Thought I would share.  Enjoy.

This is the “wood and metal non-rolly chair”

“Ugly maroon non-rolly chair that everyone hates”

“Green rolly chair complete with stains”

“Ugly plastic green non rolly chair that should’ve been disassembled and thrown away several months ago”

“Broken blue rolly chair that holds up stuff”

“Pinkish gray rolly chair” Most of these are a little stained.

“Nice leather and metal non-rolly chair”

“Hideous black fabric and wooden chair that should’ve also been disassembled and thrown out months ago”

There are many more chairs that I could post, but I like my classification of these the best.  Inventorying chairs is a blast.

BTW: Please subscribe.  Because I love you.

Humans have a knack for choosing precisely the things that are worst for them.

Albus Dumbledore; Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

My friend Liz claims she saw a dog get raped by another dog at the dog park.  WTF?  I don’t even think that’s possible.  I mean, they could get raped with a stick or something (sorry for the mental image, I know, it’s bad), but not by another dog.  Do dogs even care about that stuff?  My dogs walk around giving each other blow jobs all the time.  (I am totally disgusted by their behavior, at least go in the other room, geez)

Liz: OMG!!  When I was at the dog park the other day, Myrtle (her dog) and I watched another dog get raped!

Me: [silence]

Liz: It was awful, the owner of the dog was really upset.

Me: …The “raping” dog’s owner was upset?

Liz: No! The owner of the dog that got raped.

Me: Liz, I don’t think they can even get raped by other dogs.  What, did the dog shove the other dog against the fence and threaten it with a knife or something?

Liz: The one dog was standing near the fence and the other dog came up and forced itself on her. It was really sad.  The owner of that dog should have done something.

Me: What should the owner have done?  It’s a dog park, there are dogs all over the place.  They are all trying to hump each other the whole time they are there.

Liz: She said that her dog was a virgin.

Me: Who?

Liz: The lady who’s dog was raped!

Me: Dogs aren’t virgins.  Please.  I can’t believe we are even talking about this.

Liz: It could have been Myrtle.

Me: She probably would’ve liked it.

And this is the gist of the conversation.  It was really ridiculous.  Dogs try to have their way with every other dog they can, male or female.  I’m pretty sure the “victim” dog didn’t even care.  I wasn’t there, but the scene was probably the dog’s owner freaking out while it stood there smiling to itself.

Liz didn’t appreciate my apathy about the matter.  Chico and I haven’t been invited to the dog park for a while.

But, we’re perfect in our imperfections. Someone said that to me one time in answer to my question of why people do bad things.

Why do people do bad things? Why is it that sometimes we even KNOW that its bad, and we still can’t stop ourselves from doing it. The next question is, who decided that it was bad?

I’m just going to let you pause for a moment to absorb that last question…

Did someone a long time ago make a list of “rights” and “wrongs,” and then sell the package to mainstream earth? Or did it come about organically, based on the consensus of the times and the needs of the people?

I’ve noticed that in the last 100 years the definitions of what is “right and wrong” has certainly evolved. Funny, similar concept with me… And you? Have you found that your ideas about what are right and wrong have grown, changed, mutated, become blurry or otherwise as you have enjoyed and detested the world around you? As the hair on your head becomes thinner and the inevitable grays become thicker, are the ideas and beliefs thinning and thickening as well?

In the early 1900’s, us women were choosing to have full and equal responsibilities as that of men. At some point, that choosing became demanding and the demanding became fighting for our rights for equality. In the 1960’s, Black Americans stood up and fought for their rights. Currently, Gay Americans are demanding equality as well, and thankfully starting to actually make some headway! Years back, this wouldn’t have even been thought possible. People wouldn’t have even thought twice about bigotry towards women, minorities, and homosexuality. But now, people are coming together and demanding a new precedent be set for what is “right and wrong”! I am thrilled to see justice be served and our brothers and sisters be given opportunities that never should have been excluded from them in the first place!

So, right and wrong… What is it that you have to be so dog-gone right about, right now? Because maybe someday very soon, you’ll change your mind.

It still amazes me that Americans have come up with a holiday entirely devoted to the act of stuffing your face. Not that Halloween, Christmas, the Forth of July or Tuesdays are any different…
I think the main problem I have with the holiday is not the premise, because I find it hard not to appreciate being thankful for things and appreciating what you have. It’s also great to get friends and family to sit down at the dinner table and actually feel like they should talk for once.
Honestly, what I hate about Thanksgiving is the complete lack of gift giving. Now this may make me sound selfish, but I’m a Christmas kinda girl. I love caroling, and snowmen and stockings and Santa and the feeling you get around Christmas. Sort of bubbly and and warm, like a mug of hot apple cider. And Thankgiving, for all the days off of school and turkey and family, doesn’t involve tearing wrapping paper, or sitting under a tree, or the excitement of the night before.
I also have a teensy problem with a holiday that was celebrated right before those involved decided to massacre the others involved, but as my friends have pointed out to me, most holidays are based on some kind of death or overhaul of someone or another. Hell, Easter, July 4th, Guy Fawkes Day, Halloween, Cinco De Mayo, Martin Luthor King Day and yes, even Christmas are all surrounded by death.
The only holiday I know of that is completely devoid of death is Boxing Day, which despite it’s violent sounding title got it’s roots from nobles giving presents to the less fortunate after Christmas was over. That to me is the epitome of giving thanks, by truly showing your thankfulness, and not just saying it around the dinner table. And look, GIFTS!

Nu ştiu dacă am mai spus, dar am alergie la greşelile gramaticale. Bine, se pot trece cu vederea anumite greşeli de punctuaţie, mai exact cele care se referă la folosirea virgulei în anumite cazuri; nu de alta, dar nu toată lumea are aceeaşi ureche muzicală.Bine, nu despre asta e vorba. Sincer, mă oripilează ideea că există români care nu ştiu să facă diferenţa între sau şi s-au, între iau şi i-au, între la şi l-a, între cam şi c-am. Îmi vine să plâng când văd că unii chiar cred că există cuvintele “î-mi”, “m-ă “ sau “eau” (“să eau”=să iau şi nu-mi spuneţi că exagerez pentru că ştiţi prea bine ca netul este o sursă infinită de astfel de exemple).

Mai există “oamenii cu i-ul” ca să le spunem aşa. Adică acei oameni care nu ştiu când trebuie să scrie “şti” sau “ştii”, “fi” sau “fii”, “copii” sau “copiii”, “fii” sau “fiii”, “vii” sau “viii” şi să nu uităm de cei care nu ştiu că în limba română nu există “să vi”.Aaa, tot cu i-ul sunt şi cei care dacă li se dictează “Începu a citi cu voce tare” sunt în stare să scrie “a citii”. Nici asta nu e literatură. Am întâlnit din ăştia cu duiumul.

Mai sunt şi oamenii cu pluralul.Nu mă refer la pluralul cuvintelor rar folosite, mai grele, din diverse domenii sau care au tot fost schimbate, apărând în diverse variante în DOOM. Pentru că, am aflat şi eu de curând la o oră de română, pentru cuvântul “seminar”, spre exemplu, nu se acceptă decât pluralul “seminare” şi nu “seminarii”. Bun, deci nu vorbim de chestiile astea.Vorbim de “almanahe”, de “succesuri”, de chestii de genul ăsta.

Mai sunt oamenii cu negativ-pozitivul.Adică aceia care nu ştiu că “Vreau doar o carte.” şi “Nu vreau decât o carte.” înseamnă acelaşi lucru şi că “Vreau decât o carte.” e incorect.

Oamenii care nu ştiu pe care dintre pronumele/adjectivele pronominale să le folosească sunt o altă categorie.

Şi, preferaţii mei, oamenii “cu impersonalele”.Adică oamenii cu “Ne trebuiesc bani.” , “Trebuiau să fie mai mulţi.”, “Trebuiam să scriu.” Şi desertul: “Eram să cad.” Awwww, soooouuuu suiiiiit.

Buuun. Probabil că nu i-am prins pe toţi, dar poate voi reveni asupra acestui subiect.E deja prea mult, nu vreau să mă enervez, întrucât tocmai am mai descoperit un “ori ce lucru” pe net.

***

“And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life…”

Am şi n-am chef azi!