More.

Quickly I found myself falling, fighting, failing deep into the ravines of life. But there was no ground to catch my shattered bones. I continued to drift until all light was given away to the call of night, the surrounding engulfing black.

It consumed me. Removing myself from that, extracting what good was left out of that is just the tip of what's happening.

The rest will follow.

A Little More Food (or Swamp Thing Soup)

Once upon a time...I had a food blog. Sadly it only lasted for a whole of two posts. It wasn't particularly bad. I just didn't find the time for it. I started, got a new job, moved to canada, came back, went BACK to canada, came back. Add to this, I rarely use recipes. I just throw things together and wing it, hoping for the better. I make a ridiculous amount of leftovers and love breakfast. Really now, how many recipes for poached eggs before it starts to seem a bit ridiculous. To start it again would seem slightly wasteful of internet space so instead I'll give you all just a little more food on here. My dramatic and whiney personal blog. Where I address the internet like it's some sort of personal audience with only a twinge of sarcasm.

I give you.

Swamp Thing Soup.

An accident in the making this soup is losely based on a soup I found on 101 Cookbooks. I happened upon her recipe for Edamame Soup (from A to Z Vegetables) which sounded so easy and simple, that I set out instantly to make it's velvety goodness. Yet upon further investigation in my freezer I found my one bag of edamame (which had been in my freezer since I first went to Canada in 2005) had been divided into a smaller bag. How can I make a beautiful velvet green soup without a full bag of edamame! It would be thin and listless, like one of those box soups trader joe's makes yet never sells.

I dug further. Settling upon another mysterious half bag of peas (probably vintage 2006) and decided that their green nature was close enough of a family relation to work. I also never have owned creme fraiche so...sour cream it is!



Thus, Swamp thing soup was born, titled so for it's similar color to the murky bogs not all that far from my house. Thanks to my freezer for holding onto mysterious frozen vegetables. It needed a little crunch so I made some floaters from mysterious pine nuts I found on row 3, in the back, behind carrot cake ice cream. As well as some nice cheesy toast boats to suck up all that extra goodness.

Swamp Thing Soup,

Serves Four.

The Bogs

1/2 bag Frozen Edamame
1/2 bag Frozen Peas
3 small red Potatoes
1/2 sweet farm onion
1 liter containor of vegetable stock
1 teeny clove garlic
1/3 cup sour cream (or plain rich yogurt)

The Floaters

1/4 cup Pinenuts, Chopped Coarsely
1/2 slivered (like really fine) Red onion
1 tsp jarred harissa (I used the Sonoma williams one, which is very lemony and oily because of a large dose of lemon confit in it)

The Rafts

Good Bread, sliced 1/2 inch thick cut into 1 1/2 inch strips (however long you want)
Butter
Parmasan or Asiago (Store bought shredded works good)

Start by heating a tbsp olive oil in a four quart sauce pan over medium heat. Dice your potato and onion in a hearty chop. Add the potato to the pan, stirring frequently until it starts to grap to the pan then add the onion, mince the garlic and stir into the little pan concotion you got going so far. Lower to medium low heat and saute until the onion starts to soften (translucent).

At this point add the peas, edamame, and stock. Bring to a boil, then simmer over medium heat until the Edamame is tender. It's okay if the peas keep cooking they're really not the main texture here and help add a little smoothness later. This will take around 12-16 minutes (sometimes longer I've found upward of twenty so keep an eye on it).

In the meantime (get to work again!) start by slivering off little slivers of red onion. In a seperate little pan ( I used my baby cast iron skillet) Heat a teaspoon olive oil over medium high heat until it starts to shimmer, then add the harissa and onions and stir until the onions are nicely coated and start to take on a red color. Continue to lightly fry these babies until they start to show signs of browning, yet still aren't sticking to a pan (well-seasoned pans work great for this) Add the pinenuts and drop the heat to medium low, until they just start to toast (you'll smell it) Remove from heat and set on a cold burner.

Butter the bread with a good light coat and top with a bit of cheese, toast in a toaster oven (or broiler) until the cheese melts and starts to brown.

After the edamame is tender remove the soup from the heat and blend appropriately either with a food processor (cool a little first), blender (with a removable top insert covered by a towel instead), or hand blender (my choice!) until starting to look smooth. Add the Sour Cream (or Yogurt) and continue to blend until it reaches your desired texture.

Serve topped with Floaters and Boats on the side.

Enjoy and Tell me how it was.

So many Filters.

More often than not my posts here don't end up published. I start a thousand things, but honestly lack the guts to follow through. Everytime I get near pressing that little orange button I frantically slam the backspace---quickly followed by a slap on the forehead for doing something just quite that dumb.

I worry incessantly. Every minute a new worry pops into my head, but recently something new has found it's way in. Thoughts. Brief yet bright, quick little firey bursts. My proverbial wheels are dusting off some of their gunk and going for a testdrive. Did I mention brief? It's not that I'm crazy or anything but the past few years have been quite the battle as to what I really think. A new, or not so new thought came up again, and keeps coming up.

What if I just said it. All filters off, words spewed violently across the page. What would come up? What sort of good could be produced from this sort of vehement verbal vomit?

Did I mention brief?

Don't Get Comfortable

There is this one Shawn McDonald song that has haunted me recently. Whenever I'm alone, walking along somewhere enjoying perfectly good silence...it pops into my head. To say it's a catchy little ditty is an understated understatement. "I need you" it cries out in my head, breaking through my focused concentration. "I cannot do it all on my own" it responds. Over and over it starts, breaking my whole thought process away into pieces---invading my brain. It's a song with such presence and this undeniable rhythm permeating through every thought I try to conjure. It wraps me up in it's momentum and drags me along for the long haul.

But of all the songs to have a presence in your head I could go for far worse. Over and over it tells me that I can't do it on my own, take my hand God, I need you, I cry for you...I can't do it alone, it gently reminds me. It's this promise, between a man and god. A silent shout. I see this song as a conversation. One that could be held without any sound. Honesty in it's simple expressions. No hesitations.

Then like a whisper it fades out on the winds, as I'm brought back into life by stunning reality.

It's been a while people. The few who read, but mostly me. I haven't had an outlet for anything...a dangerous situation to put me in, one might say. Against all that I am when people have asked me recently: "how are you?" my brain would shut down. Some robot somewhere was responding for me, mechanical, dry...lacking in all forms of warmth. I would start to come through and this automated program would rush me away on a conveyor belt knocking the wind (and words) right out of me. Afterward I would twist around my words, writhing with the pain that I have become such a creature, created in the aftermaths of morning after morning of continuous monotony.

I want my brain back! To become this is crazy for me, I am the real answer guy---and all you're getting is this half-assed response I give a hundred times a day with no variance. Someone has switched my brain over to filter, and only a trickle's coming out now.

"I'm Fine." my robot answers...'but I'm not! I actually feel like crap AND I struggle to get up every morning knowing the joy has been sucked away like my energy as I deal with you people, YET AGAIN!' I am screaming inside, taking all the force in my body to make some sort of sound but nothing is coming out. I just won't tell you that, because that would be wrong to say, or inappropriate. My voice is becoming smaller and smaller as the conveyor belt whisks me away into it's dark endless motion, shrinking into the horizon line.

Why must we always be appropriate. Screw appropriate. Some people make me screach inside. They bring up something that I haven't felt in quite some time...a rising force, a vigorous passion knowing there is something better coming. Something somewhere inside me is waking up after a ridiculously long nap...and it's getting right to work. It's showing me things I've forgotten. It's reminded me of things I've ignored. Take my hand it tells me. You can't hide from me, it offers to my ear with gentle kindness. This thing, this voice...it knows me in ways no one else does. I recognize it, it's voice soft and familiar like a good old friend. I think this voice might be god again.
My lips are dry, parched as if they haven't said anything in quite some time. Just like speaking for the first time, it's very hard to say.


I need you, God. I force out with all the gravity of the world.

Hello World. (on how I became an uncle)

Elowen Ann B.

Seven Pounds, Eleven Ounces, wow.

You're here! Finally. It's been a long nine months I'd say. You look like your mom and your grandpa...and you have the family eyes.

I guess this means life moves on even when you're stalling. It's safe to say that's what your uncle has been doing. I hope when I get to know you, I'll be a better person. I'm not a fan of this life I've been living. The just enough mentality. I'm going to change for you. A more together person. One who shows you God's uncountable love with everything I do. I promise to work on all those messes I keep getting in. It'll be a while, and it'll be hard...but just like learning to take that first difficult breath---it's something that needs done.

Just a note.

Does anyone know how to change your username?

and...what the hell is Ouran High School Host Club, and why is it that there is a big straveganza leading up to the announcement of the cast.

I don't quite get it.

Kinda like I want to buy P3 FES but am not sure if it is an altogether different game than Persona 3.

So out of the loop.

Honesty is a policy...

You've been warned. I don't want however reads this to think that I am this deeply depressed person, but I need an outlet again. Something. So here's a piece of it all.

A lot has happened. I have changed, my life has changed. I have seen things that I will never forget, even if I try. I have seen things that I will not forget, because I can't let myself. You know, the other day I was just fighting it out with my mom. Shouting and fighting because I didn't know what to do. These past few months have been harder on me than I could ever imagine. I have gone from extreme to extreme, and no one would be expected to remain healthy under that strain.

I was shouting, and fighting...because I did not know what to do, or if I could even do anything. Because it feels like every time I come home, or every time I leave I am on my own. It feels like I am left behind and forgotten and that is something damn hard to deal with. I try to stay in contact with people, but it seems like it is all too little too late. I have had so many restarts, do overs, second chances, and I have burned so many people in my destructive path. I should be in therapy, some sort of therapy somewhere with someone, but more importantly I should be going back to god on this. Instead I'm here. I'm writing it out just to make it that much more tangible, so it exists somewhere outside of my inner turmoil. Which there is a lot of, I'll have you know. I have serious issues, that when I bring up stop people in their tracks. People worry that I will continue to break beyond repair. People worry about me. Now that is just unexpected. I have things that I am just going to have to deal with head on, I have people. These people want to see me stay changed. They don't want me to regress into a hole. I have a savior, and he is watching out for me.

I took this picture in Vancouver. It's a simple self explanatory picture, and probably one of my favorites. Fire, is one thing that forces change. It burns and manipulates whatever it touches until it is otherwise unrecognizable. Instant change. You can't hide what it does either. A lot of times you have to start over after a fire. It does what so many of us want to do, but can't find the will---all without a second thought. Sometimes though things just have to change, we don't want change, we don't think we can handle change but life moves on with or without us. Life burns us, saves us, helps us. So here I am, changing, being changed and I would like to share my changed life just a little more.

This is an odd feeling.

I think it would be less devastated if they were just gone, in some wierd hard drive crash. Nope.

No, I deleted them all, by mistake---I thought that had them all on my computer, and I didn't check. I didn't check...I don't know why. It's not something I can get over easily because I had some great photos from some really fun memories.

Like the amazing race, those were such good photos. The rain was pouring all that day so we were all soaked, but I was with sam and laura and my whole group was an oddball group. We ran around robson with our bare feet in the rain stopping at every stop. Those were such wonderful shots....gone. I took some amazing shots of these people wandering Vancouver and if I tried to replicate them it just wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be me knowing...I know these people, I like these people. Hilary is right, great photos comes from friendships.

How do you get over something like that. I was so excited to share those memories, they were really special to me and now I won't get to, now I'm fighting just to bring my camera out---with everyone looking at me like I'm a voyeouristic jerk or the papparazi.

Gone.

Goodbye September 30th, 2007 - October 08, 2007

The Last Hurrah, or Goodbye Ohio Seeya Later.

Well. I agree with one thing I keep hearing from people. It seems like forever when you're waiting, but when you get there it's almost too soon. First I hung up my deli apron and cap back in august, then my familiar green apron was put to rest last wednesday...and now. I have about an hour until one of the longest waited flights of my life.

At this point people have stopped asking what I'm doing going to Canada for four months followed by two in an unspecified country. No, by this point they just ask if I'm scared. To which I have concocted a rather resounding answer of: 'yeah, sure as hell I'm scared---but I'm a thousand times more excited as to what god will do next'.

It's almost surreal at this point. I slept last sometime on saturday at this point and the wafting scent of my neighbors arbys breakfast crossiant is both nauseating and delectable all in one fell swoop. I haven't flown in such a long time, and you can tell by how ridiculous I packed. The only comfort is the fact that My mom made my recipe for Banana Bread (affectionately called Dirty Chunky Monkey Loaf), which will meet its swift fate from my coat pocket...the minute I finish this. Every few minutes, there is a very unenthusiastic voice reminding me that we are now firmly in the orange. Oh, how I love national security and their paranoia of toothpaste.

To aid all the sorts of disenergized, the collective group behind is speaking korean. I only know this because she asked her daughter if she was still hungry...the fact I know this makes me glow a little at my very limited korean vocabulary. Now the person to my right started speaking a very loud russian. Such Internationals in Akron, Ohio. Ah, I best be off...this entry is really going nowhere, except for toothpaste which gets its own tag.

I'm coming Vancouver.

Goodbye, Akron...I'll see you another day, another time.

One Step.

Now what?

Is the most hated question to ever grace my ears. Upon hearing it I am instantly sent into a tizzy of squirms and fits. Now most of these are internal but if you were to look closely, you may just see me twitch.

Now what, though?"

For this is what the Sovereign LORD says: I myself will search for my sheep and look after them. 12 As a shepherd looks after his scattered flock when he is with them, so will I look after my sheep. I will rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and darkness. 13 I will bring them out from the nations and gather them from the countries, and I will bring them into their own land. I will pasture them on the mountains of Israel, in the ravines and in all the settlements in the land. 14 I will tend them in a good pasture, and the mountain heights of Israel will be their grazing land. There they will lie down in good grazing land, and there they will feed in a rich pasture on the mountains of Israel. 15 I myself will tend my sheep and have them lie down, declares the Sovereign LORD. 16 I will search for the lost and bring back the strays. I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy. I will shepherd the flock with justice.

Ezekial 34: 11-16

"If there is one thing that I know is true", is that he will love me as he always does whatever happens, but is it wrong for that not to be enough right now, right at this moment? I am more stressed than I remember being stressed in a long time.

The truth is I need prayer. Not just normal prayer, atomic super duper prayer. Tomorrow, I have to present to my church a proposition. I have to go in front, where I hate to go, and tell them I am called to missions whatever the heck that means, and pull out all bells and whistles so they know I am not one of the crazy ones.

But really...I am one of the crazy ones!

I have been know to stare at people freakishly, analyzing them--- imagining their stories as they go about life. I have a ridiculous passion for food, and an ambitious approach to trying everything I can in my life, learning through food the traditions and history of a culture. I hate people---yet I love people more than anything and would have my heart broken on a daily basis when I lived in Vancouver. I am mean! It's true, abusive almost, explosively...but only out of frustration at god.

Frustration at god that I know above all now is the time to go back. Now is the time to approach everything I have been running from or trying to internalize and make it a me and god thing, when really I need to make it more real, more tangible. Frustrated with god about my finances, when he could easily just give me all the money I need.

So what do I need...first, I need prayer.

I need a lot still, a little over a third. Around Two thousand dollars, but that is budgeting no money for spending money (something I would like but not a big problem). I also need supporters who can commit to helping me pay my school loan interest payments monthly. I need supporters who can commit to praying for me. I need support to help pay for health care and insurance. I need supporters who can pray for my mental stability as being stretched like this is driving me crazy...yet driving me somewhere at least. I need a backpack still for outreach. I need the support of my friends, yes you non-christian crazies whom I love so much.

I need people to have my back so I won't fall so hard when I do fall.

Most of all I need to do this.

To the Moon and Back

19, originally uploaded by penguinscanfly.

September 24, 2007

Sending a Prayer: Gordy Guiboche

This man is Gordy.

Gordy is a crazy guy who roots for the Calgary Flames, he comes from a troubled background (if you want the details ask him, he can give you a real honest story) but has moved on with god in his heart to create what those on the drive affectionately call chili wagon.

He has a heart for the drive, formally known as Commercial Drive in Vancouver B.C., so every Tuesday...and I mean every Tuesday, Gordy makes a gianganormous pot of chili and serves it to everyone he can. He serves and he commutes all out of the goodness of his heart. Recently though the Chili Wagon has come under fire. Critically some are saying it attracts the wrong kind of crowd---the homeless and damage of Vancouver. But these are the people gordy wants to reach, the people he used to be and wants to help move from the purgatory of homelessness to a real life, a real job, a real relationship with Christ.

But now they are after him. Attacking his integrity, his heart, his family. There's even a smear campaign all over the drive boycotting chili wagon.

Pray for this man, his heart, his ministry, and for hope that he can keep going.

12Indeed, all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will be persecuted. 13But evil men and impostors will proceed from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived. 14You, however, continue in the things you have learned and become convinced of, knowing from whom you have learned them, 15 and that from childhood you have known ⁾the sacred writings which are able to give you the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. 16 All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness;

2 Timothy 3:12-16 (NASB)

September First.

One Month.

That is my deadline as set by those above me to raise all the money for this thing.

Let's do it! FIGHT- O!

Off I go.

I think that I might possibly have a bit of a problem with wasting time on the internet. Kind of like it's this mindless escape after working twelvish hours a good portion of the days in the week. I've had to ask myself: "Where did those last five hours go?". That's the point where I usually have to go to some sort of meeting center where pins are involved.

I don't like pins. I stab myself with them every freaking time. So instead I'm going the other route. I'm road tripping it. More importantly, I'm going to try and reconnect into my family.

As in not my sister, mom, dad or grandma.

Hello, Virginia. The state I mean, oh the state of the state we put ourselves in.

Maybe I'll see you all when I get back. I've got a few ideas brewing...oh, and I didn't take that picture---someone on my dts did. I added a few punches though.

Freaky Fourth of July

Yeah So. Found some old photos. More on this later.

Dak Bulgogi (Fire Chicken!)

Notes, for archiving purposes Only

Bulgogi Marinade for about 3 or 4 Boneless Skinless Chicken Thighs.

1 Tbsp Soy Sauce
1 Tbsp Sugar
1 Tbsp Rice Wine
1 Tbsp Light Sesame Oil
1/2 cup Naturally Sweetened Gingerale (white grape or pear) or a strong firey german ginger ale
1/2 water
2 tsp Korean Red Pepper Paste
1 tsp red pepper flakes
1 inch piece ginger grated
1 large clove garlic grated

- Grate the Garlic and Ginger into your mixing bowl
- add the paste and flakes and stir the paste until well combined
- add the liquids a little at a time, whisking roughly to mix well.
- let sit for an hour or so.

- Heat a large skillet
- Dump the whole thing in, on high until the liquid foams on top, stir and cook for about four more minutes after that. Pour half of the liquid off, and continue to simmer on low until the liquid reduces a bit, about another six - eight minutes. Remove the chicken and continue to reduce the sauce. when down to a nice consistency, add the meat back and and toss to coat.
- Heat Through

Serve on Rice. (or in bibimbap!)

I thought you all left!

The funny thing about when I don't update my blog...it seems like at that point everyone starts to finally read it. Now I know blogging shouldn't be about getting people to read what you have to say, it's kind of like a diary, but more public...or at least mine tends to be that way. That said it is really nice when you get viewers from all over!At the moment though I am playing around with my computer trying to solve some issues for my camera, in addition to starting a second job working nights at the mustard seed.

Hello Korea! Prince George, BC! Kettering! Kitchener! Germany! and last but not least Brooklyn...who do I know in Brooklyn. Well, welcome. Do not be frightened by my grammar, or especially the weight this entry carries with all it's darn commas.

I'm coming back soon.

Nine Betweens.

1. I have been summoned for jury duty. Number four.

2. I am in the market for a second non-starbucksy job. One interview, and a few harrassing calls later, we'll see this through yet.

3. I have been sick for the past two weeks. Dizzy, nausea, and a bit of headaches...an no it's not due to the fact that I am on minimal caffeine. By the way I'm on minimal caffeine which means...er...whenever I can manage none. So far so good, I worked a double with barely a milligram of caffeine in me. I think I was snappy.

4. My voice sounds like a smoker who throws flames on the side after he's done recording stock screaming clips for the house of horrors.

5. I passed both of my classes! I didn't make the dean's list...Darnnabdigity.

6. Akward turtle moment! @___@

7. I had my first french style macaron. It was hard and I felt like it stuck to the back of my throat and I am questioning how they managed to sell them for 35.00 dollars a pound. (mine was free, although I want my money back) It was from West point Market, a gourmet market usually known for great pastries. I'll reserve my judgements until I get to go to pistachio on thursday in columbus.

8. I have a vacation this weekend!

9. My job is only going to schedule me nights all through jury duty.

The Finals.

Ah.



Yes.



Finals.



As many times as I will distract myself with thousands and thousands of recipes in my house that I want to make. I will commit.



Homework.



Three days.



...then I will tackle you my frondly friend named frodo the fennel.



Oh, anyone with fennel recipes? I'm clueless.

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Someday I'll get it.

Did you ever have that feeling that you're fly is down? Egg in your face? Toilet paper on your foot...even when absolutely nothing was wrong.

It's quite irritating.

It also accurately describes my ability to interact socially. Imagine this feeling every time you talk. You start off thinking you know what you know, but in the end you are just so unsure of why you said what you said in the first place that you don't even want to finish. All the while people are too nice to tell you that there is an enormous snot slug hanging from your left nostril. Ah, that and they forgot to pay attention to a word you were saying.

Maybe I'm just a little slow, but someday somewhere somehow, I will learn to shut my trap.