Pandemics vi.

Crunchy Red Cabbage and Sliced Brussels Sprouts, Makeshift Salad

Ground Turkey Stroganoff (I'm obsessed, ate this twice yesterday)

Single Pancake, Discovered Refrigerated Batter Thickens for Better Pancake

Scallions and Tomatoes

Scrambled Eggs with Above Pictured Scallions and Tomatoes, plus Shredded Mozzarella

“90’s Girl Meatballs” with Homemade Salad Blend

So I somewhat began this post as a draft days ago (let’s not worry about what day specifically, as they all rush past, blurry gray, like a 20’ high, give or take, oceanic wave followed by the crash and spray.) Here I am to follow up with the content of the initial draft, which may prove yet again to be very much not Pandemic-related as much as KB’s drifting-mind-related.

A couple of select bullet points before I swing forward:

I’ve been eating like an obese version of myself is clawing her way out, as evidenced by my abundance of food photos

The final food photo depicted above was captured after I, adorned in dark denim Dickies overalls, a sky blue jellyfish imaged graphic tee and matching blue cotton socks on my feet (I like to be fashionable even all by myself and with no one to see), listening to The Lemonheads, concocted my personalized ground turkey meatballs with whole wheat bread crumbs, dried Italian seasoning, garlic powder, crushed red pepper, thinly sliced scallion (primarily the green end), a single egg and finely chopped white button fresh mushroom, along with a salad blend of fresh items still residing in my fridge.

Text exchange with Rob:

Me: Current status: overalls, The Lemonheads and cooking myself dinner. This will be my branding pitch to The Food Network. (Pause) 90’s girl in the kitchen.

Rob: That’s a good pitch. Think we need a catchier title though.

Me: You can do the marketing.

A great deal of my Memorial Day weekend was spent reading Aimee Bender. I am *not* and I repeat *not* a fan of reading books from devices but for whatever reason, back when I lived in LA and had gained complete (permission granted) possession of the 1^st generation iPad we used for punch list at Barclays Arena in Brooklyn, I downloaded her short story collection The Color Master to that thing. Maybe I was overeager and downloading came before the hard copies were sold in stores or something. In any event, this past weekend in my nervousness and itch to read her stories, I panicked because I couldn’t remember where I had last seen the old school charger for the device. Alas, I found it buried in a duffel bag under my bed, charged the ancient device and finally was able to get my Bender fix. / Now, Rob, to my knowledge, is my only fellow Bender enthusiast. I may be redundant to say so if I already did so in a previous post but he did, early on in a text before we met, half-brag that he attended a party in LA once years ago where Aimee Bender also was present. “Half-brag” because her presence was, at the time, unbeknownst to him and he did not learn of it until post-party. A sad literary near miss for Rob. / Anyway, to move along, I had alerted Rob that I had become re-obsessed with Bender, we went back and forth a bit, and it turns out that he had just started (this was all on Saturday late afternoon to early evening) a book called The Spirit of Science Fiction, written by Roberto Bolano, who also happened to author The Savage Detectives, a book I received in exchange (as a temporary book swap with a date dude) for my signed copy of An Invisible Sign of My Own, my favorite Bender novel. Unfortunately, the second date on which these books were swapped did not evolve into a third so the books were never returned to respective original owners. No one else cares about shit like this, but the Universe does come full or even partial circle sometimes. And this morning, after posting my Bender travels to social media yesterday, the guy of 2-date book exchange fame (we remained friends, it was no loss to either of us that it didn’t work out romantically) commented that Bender is great and thanks for the recommendation. Ha! I suppose I could have replied, Send me my book back please! But I refrained.

And since the re-obsession with her work sunk itself into me, I did some research only to find she does have a new book (a novel!) being released in late July of this (horrifically painful and unforgettably forgettable) year 2020. Something to look forward to for this avid fan!

Since this select bullet point list has in and of itself turned into a full-on post, I think I will close with one last thought before *eating a pancake* and then I will commence the post containing the content I intended for this one in an all new post, Pandemic vii.

Sunday night I did submit 4 poems and a cover letter to apply for a fellowship to a summer workshop at Brooklyn Poets (all being taught online this summer for obvious Stay at Home / Stay Safe / Social Distancing purposes.) In no way do I stand a chance (there are too many far-more talented and qualified poets than I in this fine poetic City *and* there is likely preferential selection for actual residents of Brooklyn, which is understandable) but it was free to apply and a) I love Brooklyn Poets (I’ve taken 1 in- person workshop and 2 online workshops with them), b) it’s an effort I can remember forever putting forth in a sea of otherwise empty weeks where I’ve put very little effort into anything other than cooking, eating and drinking, and c) it was pleasant and self-devotional to spend a couple of hours with old poems, old friends I was able to revisit, revise and revive from dusty pages.

Alright, so this was cathartic, as will be the next post which will consist of an array of topics I promised my therapist on last Saturday’s call session that I’d address with her.

In brief closing:

Dad: golfing 9 holes

Mom: Bible Study and first hair cut in some time (stay safe in salon environment, Mom!)

Rob: Sleeping, waking probably 10:50 to pour himself coffee to begin his remote workday at 11.