sunrise over the sierras

sunrise over the sierras
Photo by Ian Parker

Friday, March 26, 2010

everything in its right place

Things were looking bleak on Thursday morning when I arrived at my internship.  Before walking back to my office, the ladies out front informed me that Rebecca had yet to return with my document stand.  I was obviously pretty bummed out.  I was bummed out, that is, until I rounded the corner to my nook to be welcomed by the following sight:


A closer look at the note revealed that the ladies out front were having a bit of fun with me.



This thing looked like it had really been through the ringer.  Stray wires, rust, the whole nine.  I had a good laugh about it though, and mustered my last attempt at a plea to Rebecca for the return of my stand.

My patience was rewarded Friday morning with the news I had been waiting for over a week.

For those of you who have not been following the Document Stand Saga up until now, please refer to my post from March 18th.  My document stand has been through enough, and it does not need to be subjected to your previous lack of interest.

I am happy to inform all of you that this morning, around 9:42 a.m., my document stand was returned.  We've appreciated your support through these difficult and trying times, and we are happy everything can start returning to normal.  My neck has been killing me.


Doing it what it does best, my document stand returned to work immediately and proudly displayed my documents all day.  Here it is with my Vermont River Planning Basin map:



I'd like to say that I feel a bit cheated out of the confrontation, and while I can forgive Rebecca for the initial theft, I am going to harbor resentment over the return for some time.  I was on the phone when she showed up- and so she really just snuck in and placed it in front of me while I was focusing on the phone call.  When I got off the phone and walked into the hallway to introduce myself, the voice she spoke to me in was small, and incredibly embarrassed.  I let my emotions get the best of me, and could barely utter the acrimonious tirade I fantasized about assaulting her with.  

Regardless of the anticlimactic encounter with Rebecca, I am happy to have my stand back and can already feel the difference.  

Victory is mine.




Wednesday, March 24, 2010

baking bread & sewing seeds

Since my document stand has yet to be returned, I've decided to take up some other hobbies in an effort to occupy my distraught and confused thoughts.

I've been baking bread for a couple of months now.  It began as an experiment a while back, and after destroying one loaf I've made it my personal crusade to make a decent bread.  I've yet to do so, but I decided to document my latest attempt for the world to see.  I'd like to say that I started out strong, and I really thought this was going to work out.  For a unicellular fungi, yeast is an awfully fickle creature.  

This recipe is for a King Arthur Flour "Guaranteed" Honey Oatmeal Bread, it contains the following ingredients:

3/4 c. lukewarm water
1 1/2 c. rolled oats
1 T. active dry yeast (or 2 3/4 t. instant yeast, although I've found in my adventures that even the instant stuff prefers being activated first...)
2 T. honey
1 T. brown sugar
6 T. butter
1/2 c. unsweetened applesauce (I only had the sweet stuff... maybe that's what screwed this up...)
1 1/2 t. salt
1/2 c. mashed potato flakes
2 1/4 c. all-purpose unbleached flour
2 T. oats for sprinkling over the top

Now in general, you're supposed to add the yeast to some of the water with a pinch of sugar and wait until it bubbles (about 15 minutes).  I'm not sure HOW MUCH it's supposed to bubble, but this was definitely bubbling so I went for it.  

After combining the ingredients, I had a dough that looked like this:


I covered the dough with a towel, and left it to rise in my pantry (because it's really warm in there) for a little over 2 hours.  The recipe said it's a slow riser, so I wasn't too surprised at the length of time it took for it to rise.  After about 2.25 hours, I had a dough that looked like this:



I didn't take them from exactly the same height, so it's hard to tell, but it has just about doubled in size, which is the idea.  From here, you "gently deflate" the ball and shape it into an 8" log that goes into a bread pan to rise for another 2 hours or so.  This is what it looked like after the gentle deflation:


Now this is usually where I seem to go wrong.  How exactly does one "gently deflate" a ball of dough?  I mean, it's pretty heavy, so when you pick it up it automatically sinks under its own weight.  I don't get it, but I'm 99% sure this was where I faltered.

After allowing this to rise for not 2, but 4 hours (I went to watch Lost and decided to give it some extra time) I brushed the top with milk and sprinkled the oats over the top.  I baked it in a 350 degree oven for 25 minutes, and this is what I ended up with:


Now I'm usually pretty self-confident about my baking skills, at times to the point of conceit.  But this has to be one of the sorriest attempts at bread making in history.  It's not even brown on top.  It tastes similar to what I imagine softened cardboard covered in honey tastes like.  An overall failure, I have to admit.

If anyone has any advice on how to make this better, please enlighten me.  I'm reaching my wits end with this bread making stuff and I don't know how much more I can take.  Tom Wheeler always made such delicious breads... I can't seem to understand why mine are bent on sucking.  Now the whites loaves I've been baking are getting better- but it almost makes me feel worse because they require so few ingredients.  I just don't know.

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Now in addition to making bread, I've also been working on developing my green thumb.  I have a nasty history of destroying any plant that comes within a certain radius of my responsibility, but my efforts as of late appear to be working.  Maybe they know I'm fed up, and they're just being cooperative to humor me.

My first project is a miniature herb garden my mother gave me the materials for this Christmas.  Here's how they look today:




My second project is more home made.  I didn't have a kit or anything, just a whole bunch of unidentified seeds from Auntie and some well intentioned advice.  This has also been surprisingly successful:





I'm not sure what I'll do with these little seedlings once they're bigger, but I'm trying to live in the now here and just cross that bridge when I get to it.  I know a few botanists who would cringe at my logic, but I'm okay with it.

And finally, much to the dismay of my oldest brother Billy, I reclaimed this plant that he rescued from my unskilled hands last year:



I repotted it, and didn't kill it.  There's not a lot more to say.  I'm pretty proud of this.

That's about it for updates.  When the stand is returned, you can look forward to hearing about it.

I'd also like to make a correction:  Rebecca is from Wetlands, NOT Stormwater.  I was berated for the oversight, and I apologize.

Listen to "West Coast" by Coconut Records

Thursday, March 18, 2010

this aggression will not stand!!

Close your eyes for a minute, and imagine yourself in the following situation:

It's early on a Thursday morning, generally a good time of day for you because you've ventured away from South Royalton, VT and in addition to enjoying the crisp morning air, you got to watch the sun rise over the mountains.

You walk into your office, turn on the lights, singing to yourself the chorus of that annoying Lady Gaga song that's always on the radio- but today you don't even care, 'cause spring is here and life is good.  You go to turn on your computer, and that's when you notice it. . . an unusual open space to the left of your monitor.

"Hm, that's strange," you think to yourself.  "I know I didn't bring my document stand home this week... where the hell did it go?"  The strangest part is that the papers are still there, along with the blatantly sentimental magnet that was holding your papers to said stand.  So you're just sitting there, wondering who would have committed such a brazen act.


You ask around the office, thinking for certain that someone must have just borrowed it.  Everyone looks at you like you're crazy, of course.  "Document stand?  What in the world are you talking about Jenna?  Why would I take something from your office?"  And they're right.  The space is quite obviously occupied, so why in the world would someone take something from it that was so blatantly in use?



(I've included these photos to illustrate my point that there is no way to misinterpret whether my office is being used.  Who the f*!k leaves family photos behind when they quit a job?)


And then your supervisor shows up.  "I'm confused," you say in as non-accusatory a voice as you can muster, "I seem to have misplaced my document stand."

"Oh," he replies, "Rebecca from Stormwater was here the other day picking up some files, and she took it."

The room starts to go blurry.  "Is this a joke?" you think to yourself, surely nobody in their right mind would be so bold as to steal something from another persons office.  But you're just the intern, and apparently that scorpion woman didn't care who she was wronging.

Now back to reality.  In all seriousness, this really isn't that big of  deal.  It's the principle of the thing, you know?  That was MY document stand, given to me as a gesture of promoting proper cervical function by an old internship supervisor.  As strange as this sounds, that stand had sentimental value.  And who in their right mind takes ANYTHING from an office without asking someone first??  This woman doesn't even work in our office!! The last time I checked, the Rutland ANR offices were not the State Employee Shopping Centre.  Get real.

Who did this woman, Rebecca, think she was taking it from?  There was no mistake that the stand was in use.  I had documents on it, along with a magnet.  She took the time to remove my things from the stand, and then proceeded to steal from me.  There is no excusing this abominable behavior, and this aggression will not be tolerated.  

As it stands (no pun intended) my supervisor will be retrieving my stolen property from the thief sometime this week.  Until then, I'm left with this sorry excuse for a replacement:



I couldn't even bring myself to put the documents back on it.  I was far too riled for anything so reasonable.

Now I'll get that document stand back.  You mark my words.  Nobody steals from Jenna Calvi and gets away with it.  Aside from that guy who broke into my car sophomore year of college.  Or whoever stole my bike last summer...  god damnit!!

There is no proper resolution to this post, and so I'll wrap this up with a promise of revenge.  When all this is over, Rebecca from Stormwater will know my name- and she will rue the day she stole from my office.  

Rue.

The.

Day.




Wednesday, March 17, 2010

everything is illuminated

As the weather gets warmer, I find it increasingly difficult to remain indoors.  This is something I never anticipate; but as I enter my fifth spring in Vermont, I'm remembering just how beautiful this state can be when the colors start to return.

How refreshing to run outside again.  There are a whole range of stimulants you experience when running outside that you forget about during the winter months.  I'm almost surprised I was able to stay on the treadmill all winter without losing my mind... although I think I may have been close toward the end there.  I've celebrated the return of warmer days with a new pair of Brooks... another thing you forget after some time is how quickly running shoes wear down from use.  My back, hips, and shins feel all brand new.  Here's to hoping the snow stays away until next year.

I've been doing a lot more baking lately, and I'm getting pretty good at making bread.  I've only ventured into white sandwich loaves for now, but this weekend I'm hoping to try out an oatmeal loaf recipe I got from the King Arthur website.  I'll be sure to let you know how that goes.

I'm painting again, too.  I've never been particularly good at it, but it's something I enjoy and it really relaxes me.  I also started an herb garden with some seeds my Mom gave me for Christmas.  Auntie has me starting some wildflowers as well, but I'm not sure if those are going to grow as easily.  We'll see- I've never had much of a green thumb, but it's worth a try.

Reading back through this entry, I'm starting to sound a lot like Martha Stewart.  I'll end by saying that my St. Patrick's Day was remarkably eventful.  I had class all day, got home, let Zooey and Piglet out, went running, got drunk with Allison and Sally, ate dinner, sobered up a little, watched Sex & The City with Laurie, came home, and decided to blog before going to sleep.  I'd say the day was an overall success.

Listen to "Wrecking Ball" by Mother Mother

Saturday, March 6, 2010

it's cool to love your family.

Because the last post was so specific, I felt I should also include a brief update for my family.

Winter was here for a few minutes last week... and now, like a fleeting thought, it's gone again.  We lost power, school was closed for two days, and overall it was probably the worst storm I've been through here.  The Valentine's Day storm a few years back was bad, but at least we had power that time.

I'm not sure how much I trust the Farmer's Almanac anymore, and I realize that I've had far too much faith in the past in a weather report given by a small brown rodent.  Here in Vermont, it seems everyone has a theory on why the winter has been so fickle these past few years.  Most just chalk it up to global warming, but I've met my fair share of skeptics, and I appreciate their passion for alternate theories.  Either way, I'm ready to get out of this state for a while.

I'm still enjoying my internship.  I feel much better about it this week since I've actually accomplished something substantial now.  We'll see where it goes I guess.  Still working on the job search.  I have an interview in Boston next Friday, and I'm really hoping it pans out.  I'd have to live at home, but it would be nice to have some time at home again.

Today is a work day... writing some papers and cleaning the apartment.  Went for a run this morning... the air is still a little cold for my lungs, but we're getting there.

I got a new tattoo recently as well.  It's a small infinity symbol on the veiny part of my wrist.  It's covered by my watch for work purposes, but it's a reminder not to walk through life in a straight line to avoid ending up where I started.  It'll have to be touched up in a couple of weeks, but I'm really happy with it.

until I can laugh at my heart between your teeth

I wrote last time about a conversation I had during a weekend with some friends in Portland, Maine.  I wasn't really sure what to say about it at the time, but now that I've had a couple of weeks to reflect I think I could explain better why it had such a profound impact on me.

Love is so embarrassing.  I've done my fair share of launching head first into relationships that were probably about as doomed to fail as the economy.  Now while I'd like to think I'm the only who has ever felt this way when I'm wallowing in self-pity for that requisite week after- I'm most certainly not.  So why the hell do we so readily put ourselves through such pain and agony?  I don't have an answer, but I can honestly say that I'm really, really glad that I've done it.  Every time.

The conversation I had with Ross and Clint was about formative relationships.  You know what I'm talking about- that one relationship that really molded how you feel about romantic encounters.  For better or worse, whether you still can't look at that person's name on your Facebook News Feed, or you're still the best of friends, every time you get involved with someone new you'll think about that relationship and the things that went wrong and the things that went right.  

It's really easy to just feel bad about a relationship ending, go through the mourning phase, get pissed, rebound, and move on.  But I think it's an important learning process as well- something you should take time to reflect on and carry with you as a launch pad into your next gut-wrenching encounter with whatever sex you're into.  'Cause who knows... maybe this time it won't be so bad.  

Now I've been on both sides of this, and while I can justify the pain I've been through I cannot make up for the hurt I've caused.  Nothing will make it better, but I do regret how I've behaved at times.  I've learned from these experiences just as much though, and admitting I've been wrong also helps to ensure growth in the future.  I hope that the people on the other end of these affairs can say they've learned something as well.

So, in sum, despite the complete torment that so many relationships end with, I have no regrets.  I've had the great pleasure of meeting some really incredible people, and I'm proud to say I've known them in one life or another.  Life is about human connections- good and bad.

"Let's go get the shit kicked out of us by love."  -Sam, 'Love Actually'

Listen to "Fuck was I" by Jenny Owen Youngs