food for thought
from the desk of huny c. young, friday, 19 june 05:
I had sushi for the first time in my life on monday; I took my boy sean out to lunch for his birthday. my boy sean is the nicest kat I've ever met...he is genuine and kind in every way...it's mad cleansing to be around someone with such a positive vibe going on for themselves on such a consistant basis. now I pride myself on being theoretically open-minded as far as what I'm willing to try, especially in the past few years becoming such a huge iron chef fan (watching it right now infact...michiba vs. takasehi mera - tuna!)...however, note the use of the word "theoretically". I won't eat swine or the liver of anything, no intestines or balls or bugs or anything else considered a delicacy in any culture. my taste buds are sensitive and my mind strong - I couldn't get over what it was I was eating if presented with battered and fried taiwanese jungle beetle or whatthefuckever, even if that shit smelled like...like lobster. or oreos. in any case, thats why I'd never tried sushi...couldn't get over the raw fish part. however, positive orange aura having sean showed me a whole new world...he'd been talking for awhile about taking me to a sushi restaurant but it always seemed like it'd stay in the abstract "some day". the place we went was right around the corner from our office, great considering it was swelteringly hot. I started out with the safe stuff...miso soup and shrimp tempura. sean ordered the sushi plate. while we were waiting he taught me how to use chopsticks...something I have been taught on many an occassion before, especially when I used to hang out with a whole plethora of asians, but have yet to master...even as coordinated as I feel in my heart I am. by the time the sushi came I was pretty good at it...eating rice with chopsticks and everything. I started out with a typical default sushi roll - crab and avocado...basically tasted exactly as I'd always figured it might taste - just like it smells. quite tasty, infact. that one was easy anyway...the crab was cooked. second one I tried contained raw tuna and cucumber...this one took a bit more mental preparation. also tasty, and packed a wallop too as I'd dipped a little too liberally into sean's soy sauce and wasabi paste mix. third one had the raw tuna chunk on top of the roll...I didn't think I could do that one. I felt so uncultured squishing my nose up to something that probably wasn't at all gross...but I'm happy to report that I finally did eat it and third time was a charm - once I got over the texture I really enjoyed it. I kept expecting it to be nasty as I chewed, and it never was. so I can now say I genuinely like sushi and sound real advanced, wordly, and cultured.
my father is here from denver visiting. this is the first time I've seen him in about a year...last time we saw each other in august of last year serena was only a speck in my womb. he loves the tike, of course...everyday he's taken her around the bronx on walks in her brand new stroller. it's actually quite the handy dandy purchase; when me and my shorty went to the grocery store earlier today I used the basket at the bottom to carry the groceries back to the house. convenient. I only have the time to type this now because I have another half an hour or so before I need to sauce the cornish hens in the oven with the honey orange glaze thickening up on the stovetop. string beans are in the crock pot on their third hour, too. got fresh mint leaves, rum, and limes in the fridge to make mojitos. everything I'm making this evening is from scratch...fresh yams, fresh cloves of garlic, fresh string beans...I even made the pasta shells for the mac & cheese. sike. I lied about that last thing...why mess with the power of velveeta ready packs...
as is regularly scheduled, me and my father are arguing...last night he made me so angry I just went into my bedroom, closed the door, and fell asleep to the melody of my simmering hot anger. there's something you need to know about ron shaft winfield...he grew up poor, literally on a dirt road, son and grandson of garbage men...from those beginnings he built a business and a very profitable livelihood to support my mother, myself, and my big brother. he has spent a very big chunk of his life sacrificing to ensure our lives were better...for that I am eternally grateful. he is an intelligent, charming man. but with that being said, he can be an overbearing ass...unnecessarily aggressive, bossy, intimidating to most, but not to me anymore. I always said that once I got to the point where I was completely self-sufficient, had my own business up, running, and successful, and had my own family he'd lighten up...however, that is not the case. he hates that I live in new york; he didn't want me to move here directly out of college, he hates that I didn't major in business and take over his real estate company, he hates that I'm chubby, he hates that I got B's and therefore didn't graduate with a perfect 4.0...I've spent too much of my life striving to please him, even at the expense of my own happiness, yet he is never pleased. he tells me how I need to arrange my furniture, how I should clean my daughter's poopy ass, what color I should paint my nails, what I should wear. when I lost 30 pounds it wasn't "hey good job" it was "lose more". when I moved from an admittedly piece of shit apartment to this new one, he still says its "a dump"...even after I spent so much money I didn't have on pretty rugs and curtains and new lampshades, after we cleaned and scrubbed this place til it practically blinged...fuck, man. my apartment is actually mad nice, everyone that visits says its way bigger then theirs...my father has climbed so far from average means he can't even look at shit without bourgeoise bias. he says that christopher and I have "settled". well shit. our lease is up in a year at which time we will probably leave new york...so I told him to leave me alone, he's getting his damn wish, I'm leaving this place cause the years of his torment have finally broken me yet still his negativity persists. his dissatisfaction. I can't live my life waiting to hear my dad tell me he's proud...I gotta be content in myself at this point...content that every choice I've made has led me to the woman I am at this ripple in time. I just wish sometimes he would say I've done good. that he'd be happy enough that I'm smart and graduated from HIS alma mater with honors, that I'm respectful, that even when I was practically broke I still hustled the money together to come visit, that I'm a hard worker.
...
I got that far before I had to stop typing and finish my father's day dinner. it came out delicious, even if we didn't end up eating until later due to a bit of a miscalculation on baking time. it was alright though as I got my father and his wife and christopher (and myself) adequately tipsy on mojitos and therefore got their minds off their rumbling empty stomaches for a bit. at 9pm I served orange and honey glazed cornish hens stuffed with mashed sweet potatoes, baked macaroni and cheese, and string beans. my dad said that my cornish hens were a 9.675 out of a possible 10, with my mom's being the baraometer by which all hens are judged by. he told a story about the two of them in puerto rico in the early 70's, when my brother was still a boy and I wasn't yet born, eating cornish hens and wild rice in a quaint, small little corner restaurant one evening. up to that point neither of them had ever tasted them, but they loved it and soon after they went back to america my mother started making them. anyhow, considering we'd also argued about who was going to even prepare dinner (he wanted to, as he keeps calling me a vegan when really its swine and red meat I don't eat - reason being "nobody eats what [I] want to eat"), I was pleased he liked what I cooked. christopher, too, although I must admit I wasn't as worried about his liking it. christopher likes everything I cook, and even if he didn't, today is his birthday and I would've had another day to meet his approval.
I don't think I've done an adequate job explaining how hard on me my father is...I don't even know how else to put it other then he is never happy. I very often feel like the only things he remembers are the perceivably bad things, which he holds over my head years later as he does with my rapid move to new york after I graduated from howard. after I'd angrily adjourned to my bedroom saturday night, he told christopher he felt I wasn't being open minded enough about where we might move after our lease is up next april. funny, considering I named atlanta, miami, cali, and las vegas...but because I said I wouldn't move back to denver because I'd already lived there my entire childhood and felt no need to go back to where I started, he calls it close minded. really my dad gripes, bitches, and guilt-trips until he gets his way or hears what he wants to hear. its very tiring. he calls the years I've spent in new york a mistake but who the fuck is he to really decide that? because I'm not living the life he wanted to force me into? I broke it down to christopher - if I'd never had my own opinon or desires and let my father make all my decisions for me as he so desperately has always wanted to do I'd probably be living in the suburbs of lily white highlands ranch, colorado, married with kids, working as a real estate appraiser, with a green lawn, a white picket fence, a closet full of power suits. my father would drop by whenever he wanted for a rum and coke. doesn't sound bad at all, right? sounds ideal right? all would be until one day someone found me dead in my own bathtub with slit wrists because I'd realized I was a fucking drone who never made one decision for myself, who didn't persue anything I truly loved, who'd stuffed my own passions and talents, however wayward, deep down inside for fear of displeasing my father. its dramatic, but you can dig how adamantly I feel that seemingly perfect sort of totalitarian life wasn't meant for me. heads keep reminding me I'll be the same way about serena when she starts making decisions I don't think are wise, and they're probably right, but I'll never intentionally make my daughter feel like she's incapable of living a good life without me running it for her. it would break my heart if she was afraid to pursue her dreams because of me, or if she did her best to make me proud and I still shitted on her efforts.
my father is a great man and I let him know on a constant basis how much I appreciate his love for me. I like that he's cultured and intelligent and even understands the virtues of hip hip music. but I am not gonna waste the only life I have doing what he wants if it's at the expense of what I want for myself. to him that is disrespectful talk. to him, because he is smarter and older and most importantly my father, I "better not ever disobey [him]". the worst part is, he doesn't see how suffocating that kind of iron fist rule really is. he doesn't acknowldge how it's ruined our relationship. I wish he was proud of me.
enough of that, I'm making myself sad on my man's birthday. today is all about him even though he doesn't seem to wanna do shit but sit on the couch. yesterday evening I bought him an ibook from his job. I'm not really a mac person, ipod aside, but its pretty sexy. when he goes to the bathroom, he takes it with him. when he goes into the kitchen to fix something to eat, he takes it with him. I cooked him an omelette and waffles this morning and he finally put it away...food > ibook. he has other family members chipping in money for it, so its not like I footed the bill by myself, but until they pay up its from me me and only me. we took serena with us to his job and all his co-workers ooohed and aahed over her...said she looked just like christopher which kinda made me laugh. all my friends say she looks just like me. I think heads only wanna be nice. truthfully she looks like both of us...but mostly me at the moment with the nose and the cheeks, especially as compared to my baby pictures...very possible that may change as she ages. she has christopher's forehead for sure...wrinkled angry brow and all. whatever the case, we're both attractive people...she'll be a dime either way. speaking of which...I'd really like to get her an agent...she's a very photogenic baby, looks right at the camera...I'd love to get her in some commercials. we'll see.
I had that fruit and walnut salad from mickey d's a few nights ago and it was mad delicious, son. I bought apples and yogurt at the grocery so I can make it for myself...without paying four dollars for it. I got baby weight to lose even still. I also just purchased a yoga mat so I can refamiliarize myself with suryanamaskara A and B. I was heavy into the yoga in college and as is usual for me, I didn't realize the benefits of it until long after I'd stopped. I'm almost afraid to see how out of shape I am now.