Finished my first draft for BAHAMUT today.
Ya know, when I finished Disjuncture, Victor walked in the room right after, even though it was dawn.
Today, it was Jaidree.
I hope this book shows as much improvement as life already carries.
Anyway, I get to break, and then the real work / scary part begins.
Two songs of the day
I sense I have quite a range.
3 scenes left….3 scenes left….then I have a new book’s draft.
D&D alignments are so cool, I almost forgot about them.
But then I remembered that I didn’t.
I just made (blue)fish head soup.
I was feeling experimental, and J and I hit the fish market yesterday (I love that place, you can buy a whole fish, and they’ve got a worker who will gut and clean and slice is up for you, and his hands move like a blur — he earns his tip, every time)
and, the head was left over, again.
I hate wasting animals. And I knew before today, that there was a such thing as “fish head soup/stew” but
I didn’t know it was also Jamaican. I thought it’d be an Indian thing, or a chinese thing, or whatever….cause I see them selling fish heads in chinatown all the time (fun fact: salmon fish heads are damn cheap, and still meaty, and good for cat owners)
Anyway, I started off by frying said head of the fishy. Olive oil, salt, lil brazing water, throw it in a wok, cover, and bam
I went to pick herbs
Then I stripped the meat, even though I read the ENTIRE head is edible. I included the eyeball, because it ends in ball, and you are what you eat, and there are two of them.
I am balls
Then kale, diced squash, fresh parsley, fresh basil, cherry tomatoes, fresh sage, tumeric, thyme, papricka, salt, peppah watah, HEAD OF THE BLUE FEESH, 3 chicken bones in the water to make it more brothy, garlic, yellow cherry tomatoes for garnishes and flavor pops….took 10 whole minutes.
Put it over yesterday’s rice n beans. (btw, I GREW AND SHOOK THE BEANZ MAHSELF!)
And at first it was just “hey not bad”
then I added the correct amount of salt
AND IT BECAME THE BEST SOUP I’VE EVER EATEN
I originally made this cause I didn’t want to waste food, and I figured before J gets home I could make a thing that was beyond her comfort zone
but now I find myself saving her some.
I love experimental cooking that isn’t fail.
PS:eyeballs aren’t the worst, but they kind of absorb lots of salt and aren’t the best either.
With Jaidree out of town, I decided to keep indoors.
And I found myself enjoying healthy food, cause I decided I was too lazy to go to the stupormarket. And too cheap to order. What began as a pot of my favorite rice n dry beans became a moderately cheesey, onion-y, pepper dish with just a lil lean meat that was more garnished with so many vegetables from the garden.
(Have I mentioned that I effin love, my, garden? It feeds me, and I feed it. [this is, btw, the only, only decent line in the entirety of “The Bad Batch” which is officially, the worst movie evar.)
Almost done with bahamut. Almost done with bahamut. In marathons, the most tempting point to stop is mile 23. I’m at mile 23. But we all know I’m not gonna stop.
Since deciding I want to live clean, since J’s been out of town, I haven’t smoked a thing. No tabbaccy. Ganj is obviously out. I’m not drinking a drop of anything except juice, water, and coffee. The last one I don’t think I’ll ever quit.
And I’m noticing….my work outs have gotten younger. Yes I want to jump up and down again and again and again and again. I wanna work out to select songs from garbage.
And there’s different stuff too. The number of pushups. According to my heavy bag, my punches and kicks are harder than they’ve ever been.
And it’s weird because, I’m not younger. I’m 220 pounds now, fer chrissakes. Which is funny, cause I used to be 180. Both of these numbers are pushing the limit for a healthy body range for the 6’4 height. But I sense, now that I know I can easily drink 1500 calories in booze a day (didja know some people have genes that enable them to process alcohol in the short term super well?) the 220 weight will easily be going down.
But there’s an excitement, and a confidence that seems to creep into my brain when I live cleanly. An, “ok if I need to fine, let’s me against the world. But I’d rather smile.” kind of confidence. And the people upstairs, those disappointments who’ve screwed everything up, they….seem more distant. Like, to put it cleanly, they can go fuck themselves. I have a private life they simply aren’t a part of, and I’m able to enjoy it.
I think it’s most important to love, respect, and appreciate one’s self before trying to get along with the rest of the world. It’s a massively privileged thing to say, because that takes privacy, well it takes nutritious food and water, and it takes the access to things that one knows they enjoy.
But I think we overestimate those things. It doesn’t cost 20-30 bucks a day to eat. Clean water isn’t that inaccessable in 99% of this country. Youtube, while ad-filled, still gives near-instant access to so much media. The internet gives so much to read and observe and play with — especially when you know what you’re doing.
There are some people out there I suspect are afraid of how irrelevant, and trite, and banal, and unliked and crappy they really are.
I think they respond to that by trying to control others. I think they try to mark their tribe by whom they can control, and that, more than almost anything else, makes for a person who’s pathetic.
Meanwhile, if you try to influence yourself into betterness, as soon as you’re doing anything efficacious and succesful….to me it seems that fear just instantly vanishes, and you get to enjoy this gift that is life.
You can tell I’ve had my coffee today.
One gets really, really good at killing mosquiters.