November 21, 2016
I’ve been wanting comfort food, well, all week, to be perfectly honest. And then I stepped off the subway tonight into the first snowfall of the year.
Climate change doesn’t quite have us yet, I told myself.
I have one pork chop, and I just dredge it in flour, salt, and pepper like I usually do, along with the whole rest of a bottle of oregano I’ve been trying to use up, and pan fry it in a little butter and a dash of olive oil. (The mother of one of my college roommates was the person who I first saw use butter and olive oil together for really good pan frying.)
With the pork chop done, I deglazed the pan with a dash of (really cheap) white wine, and when it mostly quit bubbling, just poured the result over the pork chop. (There’s probably a cooking term for what I did wrong there, but I don’t know what it is.) I added some more butter to the pan (I don’t know how much, sorry. Some more), and cooked about half a sliced plain yellow onion and half a thinly sliced pear in the butter and browned bits, with some crushed dried rosemary, and about two dashes of cinnamon, until it was all soft and slightly caramelized.
And ate the whole mess with a glass of the cheap wine and some Doctor Who, whose writing quality has really recovered well in season 9.
(I forgot to take a picture of the food like a proper blogger or a Millennial, but it tasted prettier than it looked.)
“The Zygon Inversion” feels particularly important this week.
10/10 stars, would recommend.
April 18, 2015
So my school district had this policy, too–no unnatural hair colors, including red that was too bright. Kids were sent home under this policy a fair bit and it did not make international headlines.
But aside from just thinking it was unfair and stupid when I was in middle school because I thought people should have a right to self-expression in ways that are harmless to other people, I actually just realized something, while commenting on a Facebook thread about this particular instance, about why it inspired such intense contempt in me for the school personnel upholding it.
The adults making and enforcing policies like this were people claiming that we should look up to and respect them, that they were entitled to our mental time and attention and a huge degree of control over our lives.
But supposed adults who could not deal with a child having green hair…were no way, no how, going to be people who could teach me how to survive in this world or make a life that I wanted to live. That was a huge signal that the challenges relevant to our lives were…on a different order of magnitude.
Something in me was going “You cannot help me, if you seriously think that this is a big deal and expect me to as well.” If a student’s loud hair is way outside the range of your ability to cope, if that is what bends you out of shape…you don’t have the maturity or adaptability or the ability to teach them that I need, to put it somewhat mildly.
It really undermined my ability to take those people seriously as grownups, let alone as teachers or authority figures. It also really put the lie to the claim that so much of what happened in school was necessary to teach “social skills” or ability to work with people different from yourself…when how much clearer could it have been that tolerance for difference was for some people but not others?