Happy Prozac-iversary to me: One year on antidepressants
I caught a little cold this weekend. Not the kind that knocks you out completely, but the annoying kind that just kind of grates on your nerves (and your sinuses, and your throat) for a few days. I had a friend’s anniversary party to attend, and I didn’t want to miss it, so I decided to just hermit myself away on either side of it. Sleeping for long stretches, blanking on work I’d planned to do, ignoring emails. The night of the party, I roused up a pretty good amount of energy, danced and laughed, and even went out to eat afterwards. And then I slept for another day afterwards.
This morning, I’ve still got the grating sinuses (I’m convinced a golf ball has taken up residence in the left one), but my energy’s back mostly to normal and I’m getting ready to happily head upstate to spend the week with my family. Upswing.
Just over a year ago, though, I remembered, there were no upswings in my life at all. My body had been breaking down in various ways, through autoimmune wackiness, hypothyroidism and a few other physical ailments, for a number of years. How I felt this past weekend was, in fact, how I felt most of the time, and how I’d come to manage having a semi-public-facing life. Sleep and cry a lot when home, and muster up some version of myself for the public. Finally, in July 2013, my business wife, Sonal, said: “This is not okay. You are not okay.”
How to use your privilege effectively, example #76289: Event and panel invites
People often ask me what they can do as allies to help ensure equitable gatherings and communities. I was answering an email this morning about being invited to moderate a panel, and wanted to share one of the ways I try do to my part. Here’s what I said:
I would *love* to join as the moderator of this panel. It sounds like an incredible gathering. As part of my participation at all events now, I like to ensure that diversity & equity are as much a priority for the events as they are for me. Can you let me know if you have women of color, queer and/or trans folk, etc, joining the panel? If you need help reaching out, I’ve got lots of great contacts who I could recommend to you.
Would love to hear suggestions for improvement; feel free to share if this is useful/helpful.
I take too long to respond to stuff – too long at least to enter the Op-Ed space. I feel like my thoughts come to me in these waves, that I have to wait for each wave to go back out so I can see what things are left on the beach.
So many other people have written about the shooter’s connection to…
TL;DR: I’m unfollowing lots of people on Twitter and I swear, it’s not you, it’s me.
I go through periods where I need to change my social media style for one reason or another, and I’m in the middle of another one. I’ve been spending less and less time on Twitter because I’d been just simply overloaded by following around 1,000 people; I tried employing lists and keeping the same main following, but it’s just not working. So, I’ve started moving lots and lots of people over to lists that I’m now checking in a different way, and working on whittling down my main feed to things and people I don’t see or interact with elsewhere, or who post radically different content on Twitter than their other platforms/newsletters/blogs/etc. Especially if we’re friends on Facebook, I’m unfollowing you because I love and participate with folks in a personal way much better there. The lists I’m adding a bunch of yous to, I’m still getting the hang of checking and using well (hello, Twitter, do something about that). If I miss important news or you want to get ahold of me, I check @’s a ton, and many of you have my contact info anyways.
You’ve heard about Cookbook Create’s Official SXSW Interactive Cookbook, full of recipes and stories from some of our favorite SXSW speakers past and present. Now, we want to extend a gigantic THANK YOU to the 104 amazing people who contributed recipes and anecdotes. From technology CEOs to…
This recipe can also be made dairy- and egg-free. See notes below.
When I quit gluten a year ago, I was basically too overwhelmed and scared to attempt my great love of baking. I’m happy to report that this Christmas, I was determined to get back to my favorite cookies, and it worked! Here’s my most-requested recipe, de-glutened— it’s based on this one from Bon Appetit, Enjoy!
420g all-purpose gluten free flour (I’ve prefer King Arthur ‘s, it doesn’t have that funky GF aftertaste but is more expensive than others; and, yes, measuring by weight makes a big difference in gluten-free baking) ~2 tsp xanthan gum… just under, really 1 tsp baking powder 1 tsp salt 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature 1 cup creamy or chunky peanut butter (do not use old-fashioned style or freshly ground) 2 tsp vanilla extract 1 cup (packed) brown sugar (I’ve used light or dark) 1 cup sugar 2 large eggs 1 11.5oz package of milk chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350°F. Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper. Mix flour, xanthan gum, baking powder and salt in medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat butter, peanut butter and vanilla in large bowl until well blended. Beat in both sugars. Scrape down sides of bowl. Stir half of dry ingredients into mixture. Add eggs 1 at a time, stirring well after each addition. Mix in remaining dry ingredients. Last, mix in chocolate chips with a spoon.
For each cookie, roll 1 heaping tablespoonful of dough into 1 3/4-inch-diameter ball. The dough will feel pretty soft and sticky, but that’s OK. Arrange dough balls 2 1/2 inches apart on prepared baking sheets. Using back of fork, flatten dough balls and form crosshatch design on tops. Bake cookies until dry on top and golden brown on bottom, about 14 minutes. Cool cookies on baking sheets 5 minutes. Using metal spatula, transfer cookies to racks and cool completely. (Can be prepared up to 3 days ahead. Store in airtight container at room temperature.)
* To make these dairy-free, use Earth Balance buttery sticks, but decrease the salt to 1/2 tsp. These sticks have a lot of moisture, so the cookies sometimes come out sort of fluffy and soft.
I’m sure your favorite egg substitute could also be used, but I haven’t tried that yet, so let me know in the comments what you used and how it worked!
I'm very overweight, about 5'8" and 275 lbs. I also have severe acne at 19. I do not wear makeup. I have been lucky enough to find a boyfriend at the beginning of Summer 2013 and we've been together a wonderful seven months. My question: how can I believe that I am worthy of such a wonderful lover? I'd concluded that I would end up with a jerk who was settling for an ugly fat girl but instead I end up with someone wonderful. Is there a way for me to feel like I belong with him?
You have to decide that you deserve love. It’s that easy, and that hard.
Deciding that you deserve love is, at the most basic level, the hardest and most empowering thing you can do for yourself. You and I grew up in a world that told us again and again that we did not deserve love. When something happens that proves us wrong — something like a first relationship, which it sounds like this is — it’s a tectonic shift. It changes everything about how we see ourselves, just a little. And it’s terrifying, isn’t it? Because what if no one else ever sees us like this person does?
But listen: whether or not you are deserving of love has nothing to do with the partner you currently have. I’m sure he’s wonderful. I’m sure he loves you very much, as you do him. But people with no relationship to speak of, or no desire for one, or people with abusive partners, are all deserving of love regardless. And you are deserving of love regardless.
You belong with him, but not because of him. You belong with him right now because love and kindness are your inalienable rights as a person set down here on this Earth. Later, maybe, barring you starting any genocides or murdering any innocents, you will belong with someone else. Or for a while you’ll belong alone. It doesn’t matter; you will always deserve the love of the people that love you.
You’re asking me if there’s a way for you to feel like you belong with him. I want you to start thinking about yourself as a person who objectively deserves to be loved by someone wonderful, whether or not this relationship lasts for the rest of your life.
So. Instead of asking yourself whether or not you belong with him, tell yourself that you belong with him. Instead of telling yourself that someone is settling for you, ask yourself why you would ever settle for anyone less. And instead of believing you’re ugly, remember that you are so very beautiful.
This was my first Thanksgiving as a gluten-free human, so I had a load of experimenting to do. I was super proud of my pie, pictured here, and some folks asked for the recipe. Here it is!
The crust was easy: it’s on the back of Bob’s Red Mill Baking & Biscuit mix, and it’s here online. (It uses butter, but if you’re dairy free, I bet you could use Earth Balance.) I doubled the recipe to have a top and a bottom crust, and had to add a lot more water to the recipe. I rolled it out between 2 pieces of wax paper, and though it was a bit crumbly, it was easy to work with. I had way too much dough in the end, though!
It comes out pretty thick, so I think next time I’ll do a Dutch-apple kinda deal with a crumble top. The texture is great and leans towards biscuit-y, versus flaky; the taste was just fabulous. None of that weird aftertaste like some GF doughs.
For the apple filling, I used my dad’s recipe (which is really his mother’s), and he’s letting me post it here. This is for a shallow 8-inch dish, so if you’re using a deep 10-incher, you’ll want to increase this.
Mix all the dry ingredients together; take a few tablespoons of the dry mixture and sprinkle it on the unbaked bottom crust in the pie dish (this helps make a candied bottom after it’s baked). Peel, core and slice the apples; we generally slice them into sixteenths. Mix the rest of the dry mixture with the apples, and then place them into the crust. We’ve found that placing them in one by one in a pretty tight fashion helps the pie not to blow way up while baking. Place the second crust (or crumble top or whatever) on top, and then bake for 45min.
Top with whipped cream of your choice— ours had collapsed by the time it was pie time, but it was still pretty friggin’ good. :-)
I’d never heard of this holiday growing up; I of course was familiar with the day before, and in the Lutheran church, we celebrated All Saints Day mostly if it fell near a Sunday. Maybe we talked about what November 1 meant more than that, but if so, it didn’t stick with me.
You know how it is, right, ladies? You know a guy for a while. You hang out with him. You do fun things with him—play video games, watch movies, go hiking, go to concerts. You invite him to your parties. You listen to his problems. You do all this because you think he wants to be your friend.
I was one of those kids that couldn’t get enough words. I mean, I was downright voracious—I tried to read everything around me at all times (signs, placards, menus, anything), and books were my constant companion as far back as I can remember, even before I could read. Our little town had (and…
“… I don’t see you arguing for an accurate portrayal of everything in your fiction all the time. For example, most people seem fine without accurate portrayal of what personal hygiene was really like in 1300 CE in their medieval fantasy media. (Newsflash: realistically, Robb Stark and Jon Snow rarely bathed or brushed their teeth or hair). In real life, people have to go to the bathroom. In movies and books, they don’t show that very much, because it’s boring and gross. Well, guess what: bigotry is also boring and gross. But everyone is just dying to keep that in the script.”—» How to be a fan of problematic things Social Justice League