Jane Doe, Alive and Well

Mmmm, mmm, mmm. Finger – licking good.

And licking your fingers is not considered bad manners if you are in India, or eating with friends from India, as we were lucky enough to do yesterday. It was a fun time and a mildly cross-cultural experience, like the eating with your fingers part. I could tell it would take me about .05 seconds to convince my son to ditch the fork that had been politely laid out on the table because of the presence of us westerners.

No silverware for daily meals. Now that’s a smart idea.

Think about the amount of space that could be saved in the dishwasher if you didn’t use silverware, which would translate to more space for dishes which would mean less use of the dishwasher which translates into more energy saved.

I think I’ve stumbled upon the latest fad for energy conservation.

Now if I could just find something local as big as banana leaves to serve food on…

Anyway, I’m surprised none of you showed up, because we just followed our noses to find the way. The fresh spicy-sweet, cinamony-clovey aromas wafting in the air pulled us to their door.

The food was prepared by the husband’s mother, on loan to them from India for several months while our friends adjust to being a family of three instead of two. This woman knows how to cook. Can you say authentic Indian curry? Steamy lamb and jasmine rice with impossibly complex spices? Tomato and cucumber salad and hot-off-the-pan freshly cooked naan? (Careful of your keyboard, you’re drooling.)

I couldn’t say it either, because every time I opened my mouth to say it I was told “eat some more”, a directive I was only too happy to comply with. I had second, thirds and fourths and was still told at the end of the meal with just a hint of disdain, “You didn’t eat enough.”

Jeez! I tried!

Our friends are certainly gracious hosts, and were willing to answer question after question about food, family, geography, religion and general Indian culture. I was really curious about the whole “arranged marriage” tradition and it was so interesting to hear the thoughts of two who really know and understand it as opposed to people not of that culture expressing judgments and opinions about it. Lots of differences in our peoples…lots of similarities, too.

We rolled home in a curry stupor. It was the late afternoon when I finally got around to reading the paper, and the question of the week caught my eye. Six people were asked “Would you ever consider running for public office?” Three women and two men said “no”, for a variety of reasons. One man said yes, he would consider it.

The responses were pretty interesting to read, and it resurrected the leftovers of a political discussion with someone from a (really fun) party on Friday night. (Yes, the social calendar was full this weekend). This person knows just a leeeeettle bit of the current Chico political minefield than the average Chico resident. Said person confirmed, and I agree, that many people don’t realize how brutal the political realm is until they step into it…even if it’s just dipping one little toe into the shallow end. So really brave ones take the plunge, and the really smart ones just stay out of the pool.

Nah, just kidding. Some really smart ones do jump in the pool.

Anyway, as I sat there with my mind steeping in curry spices and Chico politics a phrase came to mind: "currying favour". I’d heard that phrase before but couldn’t quite remember the exact meaning of it, so I looked it up.

To curry favour is “to attempt to gain favour or ingratiate oneself, by fawing or flattery. See: politics”.

Actually, I added that last little part about politics myself. But they do seem to be served up alongside of each other; a dish you see a lot during this time of year. It's one of those no-fail recipes.

That’s the way the game is played. You find support in the people who think the same as you do, and you repay the support by bringing their concerns to the front. You can even curry favour among your opponents, though you’re not going to vote the way they want you too. When you can do that, you’re a talented politician. Talented politicians win races.

But here’s the thing – people feel passionately about all sorts of issues, and you can’t make everyone happy. What repeatedly astounds me is the way some of those unhappy people act, from both sides of the political spectrum and everywhere in between. I see very little of actual healthy, intellectual, subject-based dialog. I see a lot of ranting that quickly deteriorates into attacks on the person, rather than the person’s pro or con argument. That’s probably why I wouldn’t run for a public office. I don’t have thick enough skin. And, some of those unhappy people are p-r-e-t-t-y scary.

Did you know that the curry of 'curry favour' has nothing to do with Indian food? It comes instead from an Old French verb conraier - 'to prepare', 'to put in order'. This is the same source as the name for the rubbing down and brushing of horses - curry-combing, preparing them for the saddle.

I didn’t know that. Based on the circumstances of my day yesterday when I was under the influence of coriander, tumeric, garlic and cumin, I jumped to a wrong conclusion. I kind of forgot that “curry” even had a definition other than “delicious spicy dish”.

It’s so much easier to jump to conclusions about people, lump them under a stereotype and dismiss them all, especially when there’s so much fodder out there to support that stereotypic thinking. Very few people from any issue actually take the time to address the valid pros and cons. Most of us carry a “don’t bother me with the facts” type of attitude. It’s pretty easy to forget that another person might have a different definition of the problem, see the issue entirely different than I do. With the things some people say, it’s pretty easy to forget they are a person at all. They’re certainly not acting with the level of intelligence usually afforded to humans.

I know I’m not saying anything new. Other people have written about this much more eloquently than this bloated blog entry. But it does hit a bit closer to home, and is more sobering when you know people involved in the process. When friends and acquaintances instead of strangers are getting sliced and diced and served up on a platter, the process is bitter tasting indeed.

Posted by Tina at 11:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

It’s confession time.

I’ve had several people make comments about how long it’s been since I’ve posted – comments that I brushed off, as people do when they don’t want to be confronted by the truth. I even had one friend tell me she finally took my blog off of her watch list because she thought I was never going to write again (“I’ll write something soon,” I thought, my denial fully intact). But only this morning did one of those persons link it to my physical well-being, as in, “I’ve really got to call Tina to find out if she’s okay, because it’s been so long since ‘Jane Doe’ has been updated.”

Jeez. My guilt meter is in the red.

Be pleased to know that as the blog title asserts that I am alive and well. So why the absence?

Well, I’ll tell you.

I fell in love, I relapsed and I had a baby. In that order.

Shocking, I know. Especially in the small amount of time that I’ve been absent.

I can hear your mind now, thinking…doesn’t a baby usually take nine months (ten, actually) or did I miss some new technological advancement?

No, your CNN setting didn’t fail you. It’s not that kind of baby. Or that kind of relapse, of the Lindsay –Mary Kate – Brittany variety.

I fell in love with someone…well, someones, plural, more accurately. Now, don’t let your mind go there, it’s not like that. None of these people actually exist. I got hooked on a book.

(Pause. A book, you say? A book kept her away this long?)

Yes, but see, you must understand that books are my particular brand of heroin (and if you recognize that line, you know which book I’m talking about so DON’T TELL!). I don’t read books; I inhale them, absorb them and live in them. They make my brain race and alter my rational abilities. This book did all of those things (no, I’m not going to tell you what book it is because I’m utterly embarrassed by it). And that led to my relapse because…(deep breath here, confession is good for me, confession is good for me, confession is good…)

…it’s actually a series of books. A series of very thick books. No, it’s not Harry Potter - I’ve already gone through those. For many years I’ve been able to be pretty good about reining in this reading addiction of mine, not letting it overtake me entirely. I mean sure, I had a couple of late nights where I just couldn’t put one down, and regretted it the next morning, but for the most part I had it under control. I even purposefully did not read a few books that I might not be able to control myself with (especially if they were in a series). So overall I felt that I was doing really well.

Until I read these books. Major relapse. I raced and re-raced through these books for about a month in any spare moments; moments that used to be dedicated to you, dear reader, and to writing this blog.

(Wait a minute, you say. It only took you a month….what happened to the other two months?)

Well, like I said, I birthed a baby. Of sorts.

I wrote a book.

See, in the process of reading this series of books and checking out some websites dedicated to these books I found something called fan fiction. I’d never heard of such a thing, but obviously millions of other people have. It’s where people take someone else’s characters – obviously, Harry Potter is the favorite, but Sawyer from “Lost” has a huge following also – and these fans write their own stories. I know, I know, it’s absolutely ridiculous and an utter waste of time. And ninety-five percent of the millions of stories out there are garbage. I mean, really, really bad writing. Although, if I were English teacher I would probably be glad that my students were trying to write something. With the emphasis on the “trying” part.

But then there’s the five percent that is actually pretty good, with realistic plot lines and good character development. You just have to know which sites prescreen their submissions and have some standards about what they’ll post. And I happened to come upon one of those sites – maybe it was chance, maybe it was ordained – when it was posting an open submission period.

I thought – you know, I could submit a story. I really could. I’d thought a lot about these books; they had spoken to me in a personal way, they’d impacted my life, and I’d thought a lot about the characters. I’d actually scribbled down in a notebook a couple of scenes that I’d dreamt up. I started thinking about where I’d take the story, if it were mine to write.

So I submitted the first chapter. It got selected. (It actually got selected “with honors” but you know, I don’t want to sound too proud over something so truly ridiculous).

And that, dear reader, is where I’ve been the last couple of months. Writing a book. It can never be published, but boy did I have fun. Thirteen chapters and 35,000 words later the book is done – well, as done as it will ever be. Because then the real author’s final book came out, and now that I know how it really ends, I’ve stopped writing my version of how it could end.

But people liked what I wrote; it got really good fanfiction reviews - which mean nothing since the people are all biased, but it sure felt good.

The best thing about the whole (ridiculous) process is that removed a mental road block to writing my real book, the kind that I could publish and maybe even make a few bucks. I’ve had it on the back burner for about a half a year, working it over and over in my head. But I’ve been resistant to put it down in black and white because you know, who am I to think I could write a book? What a dream.

Nope. No longer a dream. I’ve already written one, and people even liked it. One book down, half a dozen more to go.

But the next project is only a 1500 word article. Pssh. What’s 1500 words when I’ve already written 35,000? I’ll try not to stay away too long. I missed y’all, too…all six of you that actually read this thing!

Posted by Tina at 05:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)