#and also the grad dip will give me experience as to whether ill LIKE that career!

[pertinax--loculos]

Me: I dunno, I'm just really struggling with studying, I can't seem to find the motivation, and the workload of the double degree is kinda overwhelming, especially with the amount of work I have to do to live. Can't really see the light at the end of the tunnel. It sometimes just feels like it's too much.

Also Me: Also I think I might start studying a grad dip on the side.

[webgeekist]

Holiday Karma Pie

I paid for someone’s groceries today.

I didn’t do it for the karma. I didn’t even do it for the charity. I did it because the lady in front of me was having technical issues, and the less-than-$30 bill was worth sparing my sanity and getting out of that line. I played it off as a Christmas thing, asked the lady to pay it forward, and assured her that, yes, I was serious when I said it was no big deal. It wasn’t. I was happy to pay to get out of there.

I have a habit of picking the worst grocery lines. I thought, for a while, it was just this new place I’m in, but then I went home for Thanksgiving and went through 20 minutes of hell waiting for the family in front of me to finish arguing with the cashier about the $20 in savings they weren’t getting because their coupons weren’t scanning, or whatever other nonsense was preventing them from scanning an entire conveyor belt full of items, $200 and two carts into the bill. We moved to another line, finally, when one seemed available nearby. When we left with our own hefty bill in the cart, they were still there, slowly scanning the rest of their items.

I am also the person who will pick up the one item out of 100 without a bar code, and take three of them to the checkout lane.

It’s funny, this idea that you can buy karma with good deeds, as if your motivations don’t count. I’ve seen The Good Place. I know better than that. My motivation today was entirely self-serving, as is most charity in this country. We overwhelmingly donate our time or our money because it makes us feel better about ourselves, not because we genuinely care about giving. We’re scared into doing the “right thing” by a book that has been mistranslated and misinterpreted for centuries, and somehow have this warped idea that doing the right thing will buy us grace. Good Karma. A spot in heaven. Optimal reincarnation. At the end, there’s always something in it for us.

I’m no better than others in that regard. I do good deeds infrequently, and when I do, it’s almost always born of convenience. “Would you like to pay an extra 63 cents to round up your bill and donate to the Children’s hospital?” Sure. “Would you like to donate a dollar to aid in wildfire relief for Sonoma County?” Whatever. “Give a dollar to homeless pets?” Okay. “Save free information!” Click.

The result is positive for the recipient. That doesn’t make the motive for donation genuine.

And it doesn’t make the universe less likely to balance out your good luck with misfortune.

I think about that a lot. I’m always grateful for the positive experiences in my life, but I’m hyper aware of the fact that they often come at a premium. There’s a trade owed the universe, and you will pay it in painful ways. Maybe it’s a hard lesson you need to learn after you land your dream job. Maybe it’s illness, recovery, and loss after you find a few years of companionship. Maybe it’s your family turning their back on you a month before your wedding to the love of your life. And oh, by the way, she’s a girl and you are, too.

I’ve enjoyed two years with my fiancée. I marry her in 23 days. How many of my family will actually show up? At this point, I’m not sure.

I took a job in the Bay Area in July. It wasn’t so sudden that my fiancée didn’t have input. She absolutely did, and though we didn’t expect to be able to afford Northern California, we’re happy we could make this work. Or, at least, that we will make this work after June, which is when her teacher’s contract runs out in Texas. I’ve raked up so many frequent flyer miles, going back and forth every spare moment, and in the airspace between SFO and DAL, I’ve uncovered an anxiety I never expected to have: a fear of flying.

I have flown a Cessna. I have logged hours in a genuine full-scale 737-700 simulator. My dad was a professional pilot at one point in his life, my uncle still is, and all his kids can fly. My grandfather flew for the Thunderbirds. My brother is on his way to being a commercial pilot. I am not afraid of planes.

I started crying and choking before walking through security. I panicked when I booked tickets. If not for some of them being booked immediately after I got the job, I would not have gotten on a plane after September, but I’ve been on five trips since, fifteen total, and for most of them the what-ifs and potential loss has consumed me to the point of paralysis. Every bump and adjustment on takeoff freaks me the fuck out. The changing sounds of the engines at different altitudes and powers freaks me the fuck out. It’s taken every moment of every one of those harrowing trips to learn how to manage the anxiety, to rationalize the noises I hear from the engines, to normalize the dips and turns out of each Bay Area airport, but come Thanksgiving, when I climbed on a plane for the first long break I’d gotten at the new company, when I was so over the project I was working on that I was relieved to be standing at another fucking gate and boarding another fucking plane, all the stress management techniques I’d gathered in my anxiety did nothing to stop me from experiencing sheer terror flying out of SJC, meeting some bumpy air, banking to head south down the coast to catch a connecting flight out of LAX and bouncing around in the turn. I landed at SAT five hours later, cried in relief when the plane touched down (I always do, and I thank the plane for getting me there. That plane’s name was Tank. I gave it that name.), and stumbled into the terminal as fast as my eighth row seat would allow.

And then, I went to my family’s Thanksgiving.

I should precede this with the statement that the nine days my fiancée and I spent at my mom’s house started fairly early on with some culture shock. My fiancée is in grad school, and one of her class assignments was a “cultural plunge.” That’s a hilarious concept, because her entire life is a cultural plunge. She was born in Houston, but raised completely in India, went to college in Singapore, and came back to the states after. Living here has been one awkward learning experience after another, and with her brown skin, it’s also often been an experience of racism, of profiling, of assumptions made by ignorant people. She can’t go through an airport without getting her bag inspected and a pat-down (that happened once with my mother, and after we told her that no, my brown fiancée really does get profiled, and my mom damn near got herself arrested chewing the TSA agents out because how dare you treat her daughter like that. Yes, my mom is privileged. But, go Mom). Her background in science has often made living in Texas not unlike living on an alien world where logic and reason are outlawed. And oh, she’s a lesbian too. Discrimination trifecta.

Anyway, she submitted the idea of going to a Catholic Church on Sunday and staying for a mass as a cultural plunge, because unlike her white middle-class native Texan classmates, this was something she’d never done before.

I mean, what are the odds that they’d pick a gospel that would somehow relate to one of the many hot-button issues that any church in a red state could pick? The Pope is fairly liberal for a Catholic, and neither my mother nor I really remembered the sermons being terribly political.

Clearly, it’s been a while since we attended church.

My mother was horrified. Here was an opportunity for her to show her daughter-in-law a bit of her culture, and her upbringing, and therefore a bit of where my own morals and morality comes from. Here’s a chance for her to prove to me that the church of her childhood might have had these tenants but the sermons didn’t get into specifics, and people mostly just tried to Love Thy Neighbor.

I was pissed. I glared hard at the deacon as he climbed off the dais and walked back to his seat, and I’m certain he saw me. I’m certain he paused for a half-step because he saw my face, which I’ve been told can be really menacing when I’m angry. I don’t keep my emotions to myself very often. I don’t have a poker face like my fiancée.

She couldn’t muster that face. She was openly crying and trying not to show it. This church – this remarkably diverse church where she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, which had epistles in three languages, which was holding a bake sale as we walked in had on its staff a white conservative deacon who took an unrelated Gospel and warped it into a hateful political rant that didn’t hit one button. Oh no. That sermon was an IED array and it hit every single freaking target on the list.

We left during the Eucharist, and we didn’t buy a pie on the way out.

Five days after this experience that left us all in a drinking mood, and which after several bottles of wine was still a little painful, we went to the Thanksgiving party with my dad’s side of the family.

A lot of my aunts, uncles, and cousins seemed genuinely excited about the wedding. There was a bit of a shadow over one of my aunts because her father is really, really ill. Dad and my stepmother told a story about my grandmother, the escape artist, who is probably a lot more together than they think but who was put in an old folk’s home for people with memory problems about two months ago. I dread going to see her because the last time I saw her in a rehab facility, after she knocked her head and suffered the brain trauma that probably drove a lot of the symptoms she still has, it was a little difficult. It’s not going to be easy to see her in a home that isn’t actually her house. She apparently agrees, because she treats visitors to a tour of the place and asks a lot of pointed questions, like how many nurses are at the front station and whether or not you think someone can get to the parking lot from any given set of doors. She’s an inmate in a place she doesn’t feel comfortable staying, and she’s already made it to her car with an overnight bag once. But they have the keys locked up. I think she’s trying to figure out where they are.

She recognizes me. Remembers my name. Knows the wedding is soon. Asks about California. Hugs my future wife. And maybe goes through a few names before she gets some of my cousins’ and uncles’ names right, but she’s been doing that since I was four. We’re a big family. She always gets it right in under six tries.

My aunt looks hesitant to talk about her father, but she does. Both of us listen as she expresses her fears about being away, even for a day or two, because the doctors haven’t been very precise in telling the family to “spend time with him while you can.” It could be days, or maybe months, but probably not through winter because winter seems to be when so many people go, like the warmth-starved land sucks them dry. Which is weird, because we’re all from South Texas, and winter there is like 80 degrees.

We sympathize, and a pang of something I have only been able to define recently shoots through me. It feels like mortality, and reminds me of my fear of flying. It reminds me that I have this thing, this person, this state of being that I found and eventually will lose, that the loss won’t come when I’m ready for it (because that is never. I will never be ready for it). My heart hurts for her and my cousins, because the man is in his 80s like my two surviving grandparents, and that is a long and accomplished life, but it is still too soon for all of them. We have fought for my grandmother often enough and recent enough that I understand that position, too.

Hours later, before the annual turkey bowl, that aunt and my uncle, plus their oldest son come find my fiancée and I in the upstairs game room where most of the cousins retreat after lunch and before football. They ask us both to come out onto the balcony with them for a few minutes. Their younger son, recently married, follows shortly after with his new bride.

And my cousin starts….with a prayer.

“Heavenly Father, please guide our conversation today in your wisdom and light.”

I have my fiancée’s hand in my own. I hold it tighter. I know where this is about to go.

My cousin is a stalwart, honest guy. He’s the eldest son of two people who have always given where they could. They drop what they’re doing to help people, simply because they need help. They give within their means, which are better means than most. Their big and open hearts were passed to two of their three sons, both of whom were standing on that balcony with them. But they are sinners, my cousin says, all of them. And he is no better than anyone. He cannot cast judgment upon sinners as one of them, as someone who has been addicted to pornography, and has crossed lines with women. He loves us both, they all do, but surely we’ve read what the Bible says and it’s wrong, wrong, wrong.

My uncle says to us, we love you. We will not change how we treat you…but we’ve prayed about this for a while, and we can’t go to the wedding.

“We can’t celebrate the sin,” my cousin says.

And I know they love us, the best way they know how. I told them that I understood their perspective, though I disagreed, and respected their decision. We hugged, my aunt called me big-hearted, someone mentioned chocolate (it might have been me), and they started filing off the balcony.

I stayed behind and broke down in my fiancee’s arms.

See, my family had been outwardly accepting until that moment, when something finally broke enough for the first people to say something about it. And my fiancée – my tall, brown, “foreign” fiancée who has tried so hard to get my family to like her – felt instantly like all that effort had been for absolutely nothing. And I? I felt guilty for putting her in that position, for forcing us into a position where my family may never truly be okay with any of this, where a lifetime of loving and supporting each other so demonstratively may yet be lost on so many people I love, because somehow our relationship all boils down to sex to some people. Theirs is about love, but ours is about sex, and lust, and sin, and how the context of the Bible may be all about polyamorous lustful activities but a committed, loving, monogamous relationship between two women is just the same as sexually abusing guests and having orgies in front of idols and a really vague Greek word which in context probably means “men who sleep with boy prostitutes” but magically includes all people who engage in the act of sodomy and well never mind that you’re not actually doing that you’re just the same as the literal “man bed” who will not inherit the kingdom of heaven.

Maybe karma can keep that paradise, because I don’t want to spend eternity in a place where loving companionship is the same as assault. I get enough of that in the news.

It took me a while to come out of the bathroom I found to hide in, because there was no amount of water that could bring the redness down, and eventually my fiancée brought my closest cousin to find me. She saw us walk out, she counted the time, and she knew something had gone wrong. We told her what had happened.

This is the brewing rift. There are some people in our family who sit in Catholic services every Sunday and are not only going to the wedding but are genuinely excited for it. And there are some who might yet show up, but will be at the bar a lot.

Those excited for it will probably not enjoy learning why so many of us are absent. What happens then is probably not high drama, but probably won’t be business as usual either. Said my closest cousin, “I don’t know what to do with them now. You have a bigger heart than me for walking out of that situation without coming downstairs and telling everyone about it immediately.”

Twice in one day, in different contexts, two people I care about made reference to my perfectly normal sized, potentially smaller than average heart. Karma revealed the consequences of my good fortune that night, and they continue to unfold by the minute. For the first time in my life, I may miss Christmas with that side of the family this year. I suspect it won’t be the last thing we miss.

I climbed on the plane to come back to California two days later, and cried over the root of the problem with all these flights: the separation has been torture, and after the emotional week we had, it was going to be hard for us to heal apart. I put on my noice-canceling earphones and turned on Radiolab just before takeoff. It was a podcast about a girl without an identity, whose family kept her sheltered and off the grid, who didn’t have any kind of paper trail because her parents didn’t believe in social security numbers, and so never let her have one. I flew over Kerrville, where she had lived most of her life, while listening to the story. Takeoff was smooth. So was most of the trip back to SJC. And except for a really rough patch of air over New Mexico on the way to Dallas on Friday, my flights this weekend were just as painless.

I landed at SFO on Sunday and thanked the plane, as usual.

My eyes were dry.

[consulting-celiac-in-the-tardis]

10+ Freezer Hacks for (Gluten Free) Healthy Eating

New blog post! As a grad student who's also working three jobs, juggling two chronic illnesses and trying not to go crazy (errr...okay, crazier), healthy eating hacks are a MUST. And since people have been loving when I share some of these freezer hacks for healthy eating on my Instagram stories, I thought I'd write a blog post on the topic! In particular, this post is all about highlighting 10+ healthy foods that you might not know you could freeze...but are totally delicious when reheated! From hummus to homemade granola to smoothies, this post will give you some new ways to think about how to take advantage of your freezer.

So whether you're super busy with work or school, want to save money by reducing your food waste or just need some easy tips for eating a lil' healthier...I hope you enjoy reading about these 10+ freezer hacks for healthy (gluten free) eating.

1. Tomato/pasta sauce

This was the first official "freezer hack" I shared on my Instagram, and it's an awesome way to keep pasta sauce from going bad if you are cooking for one or only use a small amount of pasta sauce at a time. As I wrote in my post about unique ways to reduce food waste, the process is simple: start by grabbing your tomato sauce and a large, airtight plastic bag. Then pour the sauce inside the bag, spreading out the sauce so it coats the whole bag in a shallow layer. Place the closed bag in your freezer and let it freeze just like that so that you end up with a thin sheet of tomato sauce. And on the nights you're craving some and want just a small amount, you can "crack" the sheet and defrost your desired size of frozen sauce. Just place the sauce layer in a microwave-safe bowl, defrost it for a few minutes and dig in!

2. Hummus

Who would've thunk that hummus is so dang delicious defrosted?!? The hummus gods shined down on me in 2018 and I won several hummus giveaways...leading to hummus towers like the one pictured below ending up in my kitchen! Since I love hummus but couldn't get through that stack right away, I threw some of them in my freezer. And a few months later, I discovered I could take one out, defrost the hummus in the fridge overnight and then enjoy some cold and creamy dip the next day. I've tried this technique with Blue Moose of Boulder, Ithica Cold-Crafted and Lantana Foods hummuses with success, as well as the infamously delicious almond-based Bitchin' Sauce. So if you happen to end up with a fridge-full of hummus - or just see that your fave brand is on sale and can't resist stocking up - the freezer is def your friend.

3. Avocado

Now, I'm not gonna say that frozen and defrosted avocado slices have the same texture as fresh avocados. However, they are still quite delicious in their own right...and you won't even notice the texture if you use the defrosted avocado in guac or smoothies. Like I've explained before, I've found that the best way to freeze avocado is by first washing it, cutting it open lengthwise, as usual, and removing the pit. Then cut large slices out of each half, scoop them out of the peel and freeze them in a plastic bag. When you want to dive into your frozen avocado stash, pull out however many slices you want for that particular meal (dethaw the avocado around 20 minutes before you want to eat, and not too much longer!). Place your avocado slices in a cup of very cold water and let them thaw until soft. You know what to do next: eat!

4. Shredded vegan cheese and homemade vegan cheese sauce

Ever since dairy and I broke up after my celiac diagnosis, I've always had a package of dairy free cheese in my fridge. I've been a long-time Daiya cheese fan, but have also really enjoyed Follow Your Heart's and So Delicious's vegan shredded cheese. Because I don't use that much cheese at a time, though, I used to struggle with the cheese going bad before I get to the end of the bag. That's where my handy dandy freezer came in. Nowadays, I keep the shredded cheese packs in my freezer, and when I want to use it, I just take out the package, get however much I need and put those frozen shreds directly into my dish. This works great for meals like pizza, mac n' cheese or queso that are going to be heated anyway to finish cooking or incorporating all the ingredients. And while I can't say this technique works for every vegan cheese brand out there, it has worked well for all three of the brands I mentioned above!

But if processed vegan cheese ain't your thang...my homemade vegan cheese sauce freezes and defrosts super well, too! The ingredients will separate if just defrosted in the fridge, on the counter or in the microwave. But if you defrost it part-way in the microwave and the rest of the way in a slow cooker (for mac and cheese, for instance!) or in a pan on the stove, it is creamy, dreamy goodness.

5. Homemade granola

As anyone who has followed this blog for a long time knows, a big part of my diet (and probably my body, haha!) is composed of homemade granola. It’s just such a perfect way to sneak in hidden veggies and use of leftover vegetable seeds, ripe fruit or even failed baked goods. When I had two gum graft surgeries and needed to avoid solid foods and crunchy foods for two weeks, though, I ended up throwing my leftover granola in the freezer. That’s when I discovered that my homemade granola freezes and defrosts crazy well!

So if you want to have an easy, healthy snack or breakfast always waiting for you in the freezer, try meal prepping one of my many gluten free and vegan granola recipes. Once it has cooled, place your granola in a sealed plastic bag and put it into the freezer. Then once you want to dig in, just defrost however much granola you want to eat by placing it in the fridge. 

A few hours later, and wala! Your granola may taste a bit softer, but still has a good crunch and chewiness. Plus it tastes just as flavorful as it did freshly baked!

6. Smoothies

As all of my college roommates soon discovered, I’m also addicted to making big batches of smoothies that I then freeze and enjoy on busy mornings or night before/after class. 

Freeing and defrosting smoothies is pretty simple, but this freezer hack starts with whipping up a good amount of your favorite smoothie. And if you need some healthy smoothie recipe ideas, check out my recipe page! Then, pour your smoothie into a freezer and microwave safe container. Personally, I like to use glass rubbermaid containers and glass mason jars.

One very important note: make sure you leave enough space in your bowl or jar for the smoothie to expand as it freezes. Otherwise, it will crack the glass! Because of this, I don’t put lids on my mason jars. Instead, I just put open plastic bags over the tops so that the smoothie has plenty of space to expand.

To defrost your smoothie, you can leave it in the fridge overnight to start defrosting on its own and then use the microwave as needed, or use the microwave straight out of the freezer. The amount of time and power level you use to defrost your smoothie will depend on the microwave, but I typically use a combination of the “defrost” button (for around 2 minutes) and then microwave it at power 4 for around 4 minutes. But I do like to keep my smoothies a little icy and eat them with a spoon. So I’d suggest just experimenting with what defrosting method works for you! 

Then all you have to do is add whatever toppings you like (if you’re a smoothie topping lover like me!) and enjoy.

7. Homemade, pre-roasted fries and potato wedges

I love making healthy options to fast food fries by just roasting my own potato fries or wedges. However, especially depending on the potato you’re using, homemade fries can take a decent amount of time to bake...which is where this healthy eating freezer hack comes in! 

All you have to do is make a big batch of potato wedges, just like usual. (And if you need instructions on how to do that, just google “homemade potato wedges” or check out my recipe here). Then, after your fries have cooled, place them in sealed plastic bags in your freezer. 

At that point, whenever you want to dig into some fries, all you need to do is grab however many you want, place them on a baking tray and broil them for 2-5 minutes or until they are warmed through and crispy. Serve with some protein, veggies and a killer dipping sauce and dinner is served!

8. Steamed and roasted vegetables

Now, I know this hack may sound a little obvious, especially since you can find cooled vegetables in most freezer aisles. However, if a bunch of fresh produce happens to be on sale one day and you load up, don’t forget that you can cook veggies like sliced zucchini, spaghetti squash or green beans and then freeze them to enjoy later. 

Now, some vegetables defrost better than others. For example, I’ve found that butternut squash can get a little watery when defrosted. However, I regularly freeze and defrost spaghetti squash when I don’t feel like eating a whole huge squash on my own in one week. I just let one half of the squash cool, freeze it in a sealed bag, and later defrost it by leaving it in my fridge and warming it up in the oven with fillings and toppings.

When I’m going away for a trip and know it’ll be a few days until I can go to the grocery store when I get back, I also freeze steamed zucchini and leftover lettuce. The first I often eat plain with dinner, just defrosted in the microwave, but the latter is perfect for green-ifying a smoothie with limited ingredients on hand. 

9. Rice, quinoa and other grains.

I love me some rice, quinoa, buckwheat or other gluten free grains...but I don't always love how long they can take to cook. My solution has been cooking gluten free grains in bulk and then - of course - using my freezer to store the extras.

If, like me, you live alone or only cook for a small number of people, here's the best way to freeze your grains: let them cool and then use the same technique as I describe for the pasta sauce. In other words, place them in a large plastic bag, spreading the grains out so that they form a thin layer in the whole bag. That way, it's super easy to just break off a portion of your "block" of grains and only defrost how much you need, either by letting it defrost on its own in the fridge or popping your block of grains into the microwave in a microwave-safe container.

10. Brownies, bagels, breads and many other gluten free baked goods.

Eating gluten free can be expensive...so when there's a good deal on my favorite gluten free bread or baked good, I always stock up! That's why I've learned that the freeze comes in very handy when you're trying to preserve the freshness of gluten free baked goods. I've had very good luck freezing gluten free breads like Canyon Bakehouse and BFree Foods. I've also frozen and dethawed cookies, brownies and cinnamon rolls from some of my favorite bakeries, like the Gluten Escape, Sweet Elizabeth's Organics and Coquette's Bistro and Bakery. Most of the time, I just take out my bread or treat and let it defrost naturally in the fridge or on the counter...and then dig in!

(As always, some foods and brands freeze better than others. So when in doubt, I'd check that company's website to see if they mention freezing or Google it and see what others have written in reviews!)

The Bottom Line of Healthy Eating and Freezer Food

Food from the freezer often gets a bad rap for being "less fresh" or "less healthy" than unfrozen foods. However, as this post shows, your freezer can actually be a MAJOR secret weapon when it comes to following a healthy diet. Plus, you can freeze a lot more food than you probably ever imagined.

So the next time you have a lot of extra gluten free bread, want to meal prep a bunch of healthy fries or have more hummus than you know what to do with, I hope the freezer hacks I shared in this post give you some new ideas!

What's your favorite thing to freeze? Tell me in the comments! 

via Blogger https://ift.tt/2WNr5Zf