I Did a Crazy Thing: Favorite Chef Contest

So we've established that I love to cook, right? Well, I saw this random competition for aspiring chefs and thought, why note? It's one of those popularity contest type of competitions where you ask people to vote for you, and the most votes win. Yes, I signed up at like three in the morning when I should have been asleep. Shut up.

I kind of want to win.

The prize is $25,000, and some other stuff that I can't remember, but this would be a great chunk of money to use for culinary school, traveling abroad to learn more international cuisine, or even to open a little food stall at a farmer's market. Possibilities abound. It's not a ton of money but it'll do; I'm not trying to open a restaurant, I just want to make good food that brings joy.

Voting opens March 31. DO NOT LET ME DOWN. A vote for me is a vote for delicious meals when I invite you over to celebrate my win! Vote more than once and I'll come to your house to cook for you. Vote ten or more times and, I don't know, maybe I come a meal prep for you, enough to last you a month. Again, POSSIBILITIES ABOUND.

I'm not sure if I should be offering incentives, of if you can vote more than once, but seeing as only 10 of y'all are on my mailing list, and I know you in real life, what could it hurt?????

Tell all your friends! And if I've ever cooked for you, I encourage you to leave a comment and let the people know what I'm bringing to the table 😋

Love & (Meat)Balls,

Jaded

-----

a mí me gusta el chivo con vino

y el pescao con jugo de limón

con pimienta y orégano el lechón

y el arroz con jamón y tocino

para ponerle sabor a un buen fiestón

Meditation Experiment, Part Deux

I can't remember when I took my first vedic meditation course in the City—I'm sure it's documented on this blog somewhere—but shortly thereafter I gave up on it. I can't even pinpoint what it was that got me off track, but knowing me it probably went something like... I was following the method to a T, then one day I had to skip a session for some random reason, and it made it easier to skip it again the next time, and so on and so forth. Then I probably told myself, "Meh, how do we know it even works?" as a way to justify quitting. Also, I never bothered to regulate my god-awful sleeping habits, and that alone makes it so hard to maintain any type of real time management system or healthy livng practice. 

In fact, I'm typing these very words at 2:08 am knowing full well I promised to make breakfast for my niece and nephew (in about four hours) so now I have to pull an all-nighter or risk breaking a promise to my babies and to their parents (who will potentially get to sleep in for a little bit while I cover morning eats).

But let's make believe that this time I've learned my lesson, that I'm actually taking that Brain Damage warning seriously, and that I'm going to take my brain health more seriously moving forward. 

Let's watch me attempt to take up vedic meditation again for the umpteenth time.

I'm sure the good people at the New York Meditation Center, where I studied, are sick of my, "I want to come back to the fold," emails, because frankly I never follow through. Part of what keeps me away is that I have this narrative in my head that there are more important or pressing things I need to be focused on just to survive my day-to-day, instead of sitting quietly for twenty minutes, twice daily. 

Because, when we really get down to it, Quiet is my enemy. I don't do anything quietly. I play lo-fi beats to do any task that requires concentration. I listen to audiobooks while I do chores around the house, run errands, or make dinner. I keep the TV on as my emotional support white noise in the background, while I'm "falling asleep." I carry on conversations with my shampoo bottles in the shower. Quiet, to me, equals death.

In the Quiet is where my spiral lives, because that's where The Voices let me know about all the dumb shit I continue to do to ruin my own life and the lives of the people in my vicinity. And who wants to hear that day in and day out? I'd much rather listen to Karol G crush on another girl's man, or solve sex crimes with Ice-T. My LITERAL nightmare is having to exist in a QUIET PLACE scenario. Just kill me instead.

However, brain health, right? Right. So let's try again, again, thusly:

My main obstacle to this great plan being me, of course, because I have to be OK if every day doesn't look like this. I'm not in the army; I don't have to be so strict with myself and my time. I can wing it some days, maybe. I hope. Listen, this is an experiment, like this whole existence is an experiment, to see if my next 50-ish years can be better than the first, or if old bitches can actually learn new tricks, or if I can regulate my sleep, or if I can avoid The Brain Damage as I age.

What could possibly go wrong?

Love & Balls,
Jaded
-----
i played the powerless in too many dark scenes,
and I was blessed with a birth and a death,
and I guess I just wanted some say in between.

A St. Paddy's Day Treat: Circle of Friends

Only because I didn't plan ahead and I'm traveling at the moment, instead of a fully thought out blog post, please enjoy one of my absolute favorite films, which turns 30 this year, and introduced me to the wonderful Minnie Driver and the quirky Alan Cumming: Circle of Friends (dir. Pat O'Connor, 1995). It's free (with ads) on YouTube for now, so watch it while you can.

"May your blessings outnumber the shamrocks that grow."

Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona duit,
Jaded
-----
drinking all the day in old pubs
where fiddlers love to play
someone touched the bow
he played a reel
it seemed so fine and gay

I Need to Go Outside and Touch Grass

This is definitely something that's been building up, but I'm one more global health crisis away from never ever leaving my apartment again. Ever. Just me cosplaying as Howard Hughes wearing tissue boxes as shoes and hand sanitizer on a chain around my neck.

But bigger than my anxiety about what is happening outside my door, is my fear of losing my mind. It's the one thing I depend on for survival, and I cannot fathom a life worth living if I didn't have my wits about me.

Enter this doctor's YouTube channel, a small video I came across during my two-month stint as a person who is up from 6PM to 6AM. In a nutshell, she says that prolonged social isolation is a form of brain damage. BRAIN DAMAGE. Y'all. I've never been so scared straight in my whole miserable life.

So now I have to figure out how to reset my sleep schedule to follow a more traditional western society cycle. How do you peasant's do it? How do you get into bed at night, close your eyes, turn off The Voices? How do you get comfortable? Fall asleep? Stay asleep? Y'all don't drown in worries, like what if a fire breaks out in the building, or a bunch of military tanks roll down Flatbush Avenue and start killing us indiscriminately? Or if this is the Buffalo wing that will finally trigger that MI you've been trying to avoid your whole life?

Or, I don't know... maybe a sound mind is overrated...

Love & Balls,

Jaded

-----

anxiety, keep on tryin' me

i feel it quietly

tryin' to silence me

Domesticated. Kinda.

During the pandemic, when we were all scrambling to stay sane, I didn't jump on board the bread-making train but I did take a good look at my home life- the clutter we kept, the food we ate, the habits we had as a small family, and I didn't like what I saw. 

Fast forward to now, wherein I build towards becoming a prepper, and you can't tell me you haven't thought about it. I want control over the quality of the food my family eats and what it costs. I want to harness energy from the sun and the earth to heat and power my home. I want us living on a small compound where we can look after each other. And I know this is starting to sound cult-ish, but I've seen so much ugly behavior from people lately that it takes a whole lot to get me to leave the house. 

Since I'm indoors anyways, might as well be Suzy Homemaker, amiright? Well...

I try. But I don't live alone and my roommates 1) don't help with the home-keeping, and 2) make more of a mess than I can keep up with.

What I can do, I like to highlight sometimes online as Doña Ivelisse. 

I cook a lot; I do my own hair and nails; sometimes I do hair and nails for others; and I declutter and design cute spaces in my home. Most of it I document online for shits and giggles, not for any real clout or influencer dreams, because the thought of setting up a camera every time I decide to chop an onion or trim my own hait makes me want to lay down and never get back up. I do think I can use this space to speak on some of my favorite project more in the future, so there's that.

In the meantime if you haven't already, feel free to peruse my fun little IG. And when you're in town, give me a holler and maybe you'll get a dinner invite or a bag of complimentary bagels.

Love & Balls,

Jaded

-----

i let you live here for free

and I don't even charge you rent

i clean up all your messes

and I'm always there when you need to vent

and this is the thanks I get?

WIP: All We Are Is Wasted Hours (A Housekeeping Poem)

we were a tangle of limbs the 

morning you left 

echoes of screeching tires outside 

along the parkway 

and last night’s platanos still on the table, forgotten. like us. 

you stole a kiss from me as I stared at the sword above your desk 

“What are you thinking about?” you mumbled, 

“Montauk,” I whispered. “The waves at Ditch Plains. 

And that shopping spree at the 99-cent store in Miami. Remember?” 

you planted another kiss on my face to hide 

your lapse in memory. 

still, I found a temporary comfort in the curve of your neck, and the lingering scent of your cologne 

in my sheets and my hair and my skin. 

we were a beautiful mess that morning: me the girl from Brooklyn with too many memories and you the

boy from nowhere with nothing,

both waiting to be tidied up.

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

*I've been reviewing my old works-in-progress to see if something jumps out at me or grabs my attention. And I know, posting it here makes it ineligible to be posted elsewhere but listen, there's a good chance I won't follow through on this so might as well give these pieces their 15 minutes of fame while I can.

Love & Balls,

Jaded

-----

hello again, friend of a friend, i knew you when

our common goal was waiting for the world to end

now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend

you crack the whip, shapeshift and trick the past again

El Blachy, A Subset of My Latest Musical Hyperfixation

Why did I ever stop listening to Spanish-language music? I mean, whatever the reason it has to be due to a construct of white supremacy or something, but I'm back now, and besides playing Bad Bunny over and over and over and over, I now play El Blachy, non-stop. SOMEONE TAKE ME DANCING!

Love & Balls,

Jaded

-----

dame tiempo

que no estoy en mi mejor momento

pero yo mejoro de a poquitos, si

hoy estoy down pero yo sé que mañana será más bonito

Photo Journal: Milan, Italy 9.2022

 My youngest went to Italy the fall before she graduated, which meant she'd be away from home for a whole semester without us seeing one another, which neither of us was ready to accept. So after I quit my job at the library, I booked a two-week trip to Milan (and a week-long stay in Rome we can discuss later) that almost convinced me to give up my American citizenship. And don't I feel stupid now, that I decided to come back to this sinking ship?

Anywhores, here are some of my favorite memories from my time as a carefree gal in the streets of Milan and other neighboring towns.

Lake Como ain't just for the Clooneys of the world

The actual Last Supper by DaVinci

A view from the top (of Il Duomo)

Only I'd run into a book fair abroad

Authentic bolognese in Bologna

Learning to make egg pasta in someone's home

Love & Balls,
Jaded
-----
and all the things that I used to be afraid of
suddenly it all disappear...
and you remain my most favorite thing
and everywhere I go you're here with me

What I Read: February 2025 Edition

So listen, I follow a nice handful of BookTubers, and one of the things they like to do is a recap of everything they read, which I use to feed my To Be Read (TBR) list. I'm not going to do a video because I'm not a YouTuber, and the thought of setting up a camera and a backdrop and the lights, and hair/makeup/wardrobe is my version of the Eighth Circle of Hell, because we all know that my baseline aesthetic is depression sweatsuit AT BEST. 

But I have my blog again; I can participate thusly.

Here's what I read and/or listened to last month as I desperately tried to escape reality:

1. Evvie Drake Starts Over by Linda Holmes🎧

This was a bit of a slow burn, PG romance about a widow who rents out her guest house to a failed baseball pitcher, and the relationship they end up building. What stood out here is there's a B-plot between Evvie and her best friend, a man, and neither one is pining for the other. I love a platonic friendship. Like, they truly exist; beautiful! ✮✮✮✮

2. Faithless (Grant County Series #5) by Karin Slaughter🎧
Do y'all watch WILL TRENT on TV? Well it's based on a series of books by Slaughter, and I've read them all. Correction, I've DEVOURED them all. But when they were done I was all, "I need to know about Sara Linton's life before she met Will," Linton being the protagonist of the Grant County books (along with her ex/husband, Jeffrey Tolliver). So I started the Grant County books back in December, and the first one, maybe two, were good, but I have to be honest, at this point I'm reading them just for closure. It's not great. The TRENT books are much, much better. It's about Linton, a doctor and medical examiner, and Tolliver, a police chief in Grant County, Georgia, and the cases that they work on together, which usually puts one or both of them in harm's way. Each book, I keep wishing they all die in a fire... ✮✮✮

3. Heartstopper, Volume 1 by Alice Oseman 🕮
YOU GUYSSSSSSSS. I abso-fucking-lutely LOVE the Heartstopper series--both on screen and now in book form. One of the first things I'm going to do once I'm gainfully employed again is buy all of the books so I can reread them every time I'm feeling blue. It is a queer-positive YA graphic novel about Charlie, an out teen, and Nick, a newly out/bi-curious boy, who fall in love. It's truly innocent and sweet and loving and just... I want to be a teenager again just to be Charlie and Nick's friend. ✮✮✮✮✮

4. Goal (St. Louis Series, Book 1) by Alexandria House🎧
So ya girl tried out an ultra spicy book to see what all the fuss was about, but made sure and chose one by a Black author featuring Black characters because BLACK HISTORY MONTH, and BAY-BEEEEEEE, I get it. I understand why people read this. I just wish I had more of a warning. In this one, a famous hockey player takes custody of younger siblings he barely knows after his estranged father passes away, and then starts a romance with the nanny his fiance hires to take care of the kids because she doesn't want to do it herself. And listen if Spice is your thing, the spice was spicing in this book. As for me, myself, personally, I find sexy talk mad corny and cringe, so I had more second-hand embarrassment than I expected. Not sure I'll read the rest of the series, but I did kind of like this one! ✮✮✮1/2

5. Exit West by Mohsin Hamid🎧
I've discussed my feelings about this book with y'all already, but I will add that I do plan to read a physical copy of this one day because the audiobook made me feel a bit scattered; I need to read the book and see if it's more grounding. ✮✮✮

6. The Writing Retreat by Julia Bartz🎧
I chose this thinking it was a supernatural horror and it was just a plain old thriller, so right there you can tell I was a bit disappointed with this book. This woman goes to a selective writing retreat hosted by one of her literary icons at a remote estate, and finds that her former friend, current enemy is also attending (plus three other women). Once there, they all learn that they are going to compete against each other by writing a whole ass novel from scratch; winner gets published, of course. But this is a thriller, so you already know some sinister shit is afoot. I liked it but I didn't, if it makes sense? I'm not sure if everyone's behaviour was believable, even for a fiction novel, and that would take me out of the story. And the ending was trash. Overall, ✮✮✮

7. Neruda on the Park by Cleyvis Natera 🕮
Let me tell y'all about this Garbage Pail Kid of a book I had the misfortune of choosing for the first meeting of the Jaded Book Club. Like, my friends were within their rights to beat my ass for choosing this book. It was awful. Mother and daughter deal with the gentrification of their Washington Heights, NYC neighborhood in peculiar ways. The characters were unlikeable, behaved in unlikely manners; there were cop-out conclusions to storylines; the prose was forced; the storytelling was clunky; and everyone needed a hot slap, including the author and her editor for allowing this book to be published in this state of disarray. Don't read this book. I only scored it as high as I did because there's a scene in the end that was exciting, and even then I was told I scored it too high. ✮✮

8. Lone Women by Victor LaValle🎧
This was supposed to be horror and YET AGAIN I was tricked because it was just a thriller wrapped in a cozy historical fiction sweater. While I was invested in the fate of the characters, and the storytelling was decent, it was lacking something that I can't pinpoint, but I won't let that keep me from telling folks to check it out. Adelaide moves from California to stake a claim in Montana, and brings with her this heavy ass trunk filled with what she calls her burden. Adelaide is Black, by the way. Montana at this point in the story is quite empty. Her 'burden' starts eviscerating folks. Yeah, it's a lot. You might like it.✮✮✮

After all this, you'll feel the urge to recommend a book to me, I know, but PLEASE RESIST. I currently have over 200 books on my TBR list and it's starting to cause some stress. I don't want to burn out; I've only just found joy in books again.

Love & Balls,
Jaded
-----
well I've been scratching around in the dirt
looking for meaning in the cold, cold earth
to gather in what's left of your self-worth
'cause only love is what survives of us