…be very happy that I found a home in a town of congenial people, good music, and helpful healers
…be blown away by how much pain I shed in co-counseling, and how light my spirit is
…be sad that I still have fatigue problems, but impressed at how I’ve researched and managed them
…be aghast that I can’t eat even one bite of fruit
…feel smug that I achieved modest success without a college degree
…be disappointed I hadn’t figured out how to end war, cruelty and injustice
…adore my friends and coworkers
…be very surprised that I work and play with computers
…find it hard to believe that a job existed that matches my quirks so well
…wish I hiked more
…envy my musical knowledge and collection
…cry relieved and hopeful tears, seeing how contented I am
Ah, adolescence. Depression and isolation? Yes indeedy. How do any of us get through? It’s enough of a bummer to start really taking in the horrible state of the adult world around you, without having to struggle for your own sanity.
Let me be clear: my material circumstances were great. I had a loving family and a comfortable home. My relatively happy kid self (I must dig out unhappy teen photos later):
At twelve or so, I was on a downward slide. I was feeling increasingly sick and exhausted. I knew instinctively that I had unusual health problems, but they were too vague and mysterious for the doctor to diagnose. (Turned out to be weak digestion plus resulting malnutrition.)
I dreaded turning thirteen. For one thing, I didn’t want to turn into a “Girl” who “Likes” “Boys.” I wanted everyone to keep being kids and keep playing with each other. But the pressure was coming on. I had to make sure that “Boys” would accept me as a “Girl” to be an okay person.
Then there was the looming specter of adulthood. College, perhaps a PhD, was expected of me. And then I’d have to make a living somehow, though I had no idea what I wanted to do.
These terrors helped trigger a decision to diet. I became anorexic and fairly skeletal. It didn’t really improve my life, though I thought I looked better (I didn’t, but anorexia is a delusional disease) and felt marginally safer in my right to exist. Getting skinny—surprise!—didn’t cure my fears, didn’t end my sadness and cynicism and isolation.
I clung fiercely to my escape mechanisms: studying, science fiction, music, and sugar. I spent many hours curled in fetal position in my dark bedroom, wishing for oblivion.
My sister helped me stop starving myself, at least. But otherwise, I kept sliding down. It wasn’t till I was about fifteen or sixteen that I hit the bottom of my lonely well. I knew I wasn’t going to kill myself, so what to do? I guessed I had to live, somehow.
I made a very conscious and determined decision to turn my twisted self outward and relate to other people. Thus Jessi’s Smiling Project was born, though I had no name for it. I knew I needed baby steps, though.
Smiling Project
Stage 1. Make eye contact with and smile at everyone
Stage 2. Say hello to them
Stage 3. Ask them questions about themselves
I had to make this commitment over and over again. It was difficult to smile when I felt sad, say hello when I felt like crawling into a corner. Every day after school, after a day of trying to connect with people, I’d come home and head for the stereo.
1. Set the needle to the beginning of the fifth track
2. Listen, crying heart out, till the end of the track
3. Repeat
Okay, okay, here’s the mp3!
Judith’s Song (Open the Door)
Sometimes I remember the old days
When the world was filled with sorrow
You might have thought I was livin’, but I was all alone
In my heart the rain was fallin’
The wind blew, the night was callin’
Come back, come back, I’m all you’ve ever known
Chorus:
Open the door and come on in
I’m so glad to see you my friend
You’re like a rainbow comin’ around the bend
And when I see you happy,
Well, it sets my heart free
I’d like to be as good a friend to you as you are to me
There were friends who could always see me
Through the haze their smiles would reach me
Saying okay, saying goodbye, saying hello
Soon I knew that what I was after
Was life and love, tears and laughter
Hello my good friend, hello my darlin’
What do you know
(Chorus)
I used to think it was only me
Feeling alone, not feeling free
To be alive, to be a friend
Now I know we all have stormy weather
The sun shines through when we’re together
I’ll be your friend right through to the end
(Chorus)
(Chorus again, sung to plural friends this time)
After catharsis, continue with Smiling Project.
That, my friends, is how I survived adolescence. How about you?
I made a double recipe of these for my friends’ Western Drive Thanksgiving potluck. They got gobbled up.
Stuffed portobello mushrooms
4 large portobello mushrooms
Marinade:
1/3 c medium dry sherry
3 T red wine vinegar
1 T minced garlic
1 T minced shallot
1/2 c olive oil
1/2 c canola oil
3 T minced fresh herbs (basil, parsley, thyme, sage, and/or chives)
salt and pepper to taste
In a small saucepan boil sherry until reduced by about half and let cool. In a bowl whisk together the sherry, vinegar, garlic, shallot, oils, herbs, and salt and pepper.
Remove stems from mushrooms (you can use them in soup some other time). Add mushroom caps to a large plastic bag. Pour the marinade in and seal the bag, pressing out extra air. Put bag in a bowl. Marinate in the fridge, turning bag once or twice, at least 30 minutes and up to 2 hours.
Stuffing:
1 white onion
1/4 c unsalted butter or vegan butter substitute
1 T minced basil
1/4 c minced parsley
1 1/2 c fine bread crumbs
1 c fresh grated Parmesan
Preheat oven to 350°F.
Mince the onion. Saute in butter or vegan substitute until soft. Transfer to a bowl and stir in remaining stuffing ingredients and salt and pepper to taste.
Remove mushrooms from bag and arrange gill side up in a large baking pan. Divide stuffing among mushrooms and press evenly into caps.
Pour:
1/2 cup warm water
1/4 cup medium dry sherry
around mushrooms and bake 20 to 25 minutes, or until stuffing is golden brown.
The best thing about I’m Not There is Cate Blanchett. Otherwise, the new Dylan movie is a big bore.
By using six different actors and settings to portray Dylan, INT gets across its message just fine - that Dylan has refused, all of his life, to be pigeon-holed, though the world has tried its darndest to do just that. But it’s so heavy-handed. Martin Scorsese’s 2005 documentary No Direction Home reveals the same idea much more naturally.
In fact, many scenes of INT are simply redone NDH scenes, with names changed and interviews paraphrased. I kept on doing double-takes as I realized “this Alice character is Joan Baez, but Joan Baez was more interesting,” etc.
Cate Blanchett is the only one of the six Dylans who emanates (or is allowed to emanate?) that palpable ruthless, poetic intelligence that, for me, embodies Dylan’s charisma. But Dylan does it even better.
So save yourself a long expensive snore in the theater - wait and rent it, and fast forward to Blanchett’s scenes. Better yet, rent No Direction Home.
(Oh, and get a friend to lend you the soundtrack for I’m Not There, since it’s quite enjoyable.)
Anyone willing to defend I’m Not There and lambast my boorish ignorance? Let the flames begin!
If anyone cares, I took down the old handcoded site at jessibird.org. If you browse to jessibird.org now you will arrive at jessibird.net (the current Jessibird blog).
The old site was mainly for my own use, anyway; it had my favorite links and rss feeds, which took some serious coding gymnastics to display. But that was part of the point - seeing what I could do. I learned basic PHP and had a very primitive sort of WordPress-like template system (no database, though, just text files) for publishing and editing my recipes.
A few recipes from the old site aren’t published here yet, but eventually they will be. You can browse my Cooking
posts if you like.
If you miss the Weather Pixie, I’ll consider adding it back as a widget.
The best thing about I’m Not There is Cate Blanchett. Otherwise, the new Dylan movie is a big bore.
