Rambling Review: The Handmaid’s Tale

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood was very hard to read. Not because it was poorly written or boring — that’s not the case at all. The story was intriguing and I was invested in the narrator’s plight. The end felt like such a cliffhanger that I audibly yelled “are you serious!” which scared my husband, but then I realized there was more to the story in a new section with a different perspective (so if you hit a snag near the end, keep reading — it’s not just end of book acknowledgements!).

No, the reason this book was so hard to read was its terrifying plausibility. Most dystopian novels are set in a far off future, after wars and bombs and viruses and apocalypses have utterly changed the face of the earth and how society runs. Some dystopian novels are a chilling commentary on where the world could be headed (think: 1984), but this is so much more immediate. The changes, the leeching of power from the people — or from certain types of people — are so subtle at first, so insignificant that by the time enough people start to question things, it’s far too late.

In a lot of dystopian stories, there is one dictator or a small group of “bad guys” lording it over the masses. The majority of the people don’t agree with their leadership, but are too downtrodden and tired to fight back. In The Handmaid’s Taleplenty of people agree with the new society. There are rumors of underground movements, sure, but most people seem supportive of the new order’s ideals.

The story is both intense and detached, told by a narrator who has nearly given up on everything that mattered to her in the world before. It is both resigned and angry, rebellious and cautious, disgusted and apathetic. It is a desperate warning wrapped up in inevitable possibility.

I had to take a lot of breaks while reading this one. It isn’t something you’ll binge-read for hours or enjoy while lounging on a beach. It’s a tale best told in snippets and whispers, with long silences to digest each piece of new information. It’s heavy with real-life foreboding, but I’m so glad I read it.

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A Too-Public Apology

I’ve gotten carried away on Facebook. This election was ugly and contentious and it stirred up a lot of “yuck” on both sides. After the shocking results (or not so shocking, if you’re that one professor who’s always right about presidential elections), everything came to a head.

Going into Election Night, I knew a lot of friends and family voted differently than me–and that was okay. One person — whom I love more than my own life, and who did not vote my way — posted her “I voted” sticker to Facebook, and someone else commented “I hope for the right one!” Now, this could have been a statement of solidarity, like “so did I and I hope we made the right choice.” But I saw red. I almost typed back something along the lines of “who are you to judge if someone’s choice is right or wrong? She voted for the right person for her and that’s all that matters here.” I was ready to throw down, all in defense of someone who basically canceled out my vote, because I loved her more than a stupid vote or a stupid four years or eight years or whatever it will be. (Instead, I raged to my husband and settled in to watch Hillary #crushit). And then I lost sight of that completely.

I’ve always known I’m very competitive and not the best loser, but this was not some game I could shake off the way I should have. I’ve written before my reasons that I personally could never support Trump; I didn’t realize until he won just how much my own understanding of my immediate world was wrapped up in this election. Suddenly, I didn’t see family, I just saw betrayal. I felt confused — probably because I never took the time to sit down beforehand and explain face-to-face with people what it is that drives my thinking, and therefore how I believe they must think, too. I was — and am — terrified of what this can mean for a country already so divided.

I lashed out on social media, in a defiant show of love behind a veneer of anonymity, a soapbox once-removed. And I hurt people with some of the things I’ve “liked”, some of the posts I’ve shared. I didn’t take the time to put into my own words my terror and my angst and my confusion. I won’t apologize for fearing for my country, or for feeling hurt or betrayed or confused, because this is how I feel, and I am allowed to process this in my own way.

But I do sincerely ask forgiveness for the hurt I’ve caused through a careless, too-public post, or the words I’ve endorsed without explanation or attempt to make them my own. Because I’d like to think that while I shared some of the same sentiments, my own words could have held more love and less accusations. It’s too easy, when one is hurt and scrolling through a newsfeed, to say “yeah!!” and just click ‘share’ rather than sit and think and scribble out her heart. It’s vulnerable and difficult, especially when that heart is already bleeding from wounds others don’t realize they’ve made. Wounds that might have been avoided, if we’d shared our hearts sooner.

Because the people I love — those who want to Make America Great Again and those who were #WithHer and those who chose neither — they feel the same as me. They fear for America, they want what’s best and they didn’t intend to hurt me anymore than I wanted to hurt them personally.

And maybe this whole post shouldn’t be public, either. Maybe it would be better served individually, but a public harming deserves a public acknowledgement that while I’ve been screaming about “love” for almost a week, I haven’t done a good job of connecting through love with those I care about. And maybe I’ve hurt someone without even realizing it, and I want them to know I’m sorry for that, too. Love is not a weapon, but a shield we should use to defend what’s precious against a ravenous world. I lost sight of that, and I’m sorry.

I love you.

This Election Day, Let’s All Eat Our Feelings

I was going to email this recipe to my mom, because that’s what I do when I’m eating lunch and really patting myself on the back mentally. Then I remembered I have a blog I can brag through, so you’re welcome, world. Also, it’s Election Day, and almost everyone I know wants to puke for one reason or another, regardless of political affiliations. Why not stuff our faces with gooey, sweet, buttery dessert instead?

Sorry there are no pictures to go along with this recipe. Like I said, I was just going to email it to my mom and I rarely need to send photographic evidence of my culinary prowess.

If you ever feel like eating apple pie but also don’t feel like actually making apple pie you can try this apple crisp recipe I did spontaneously last night. Though now that I think about it, it’s probably barely less effort than apple pie. It just seemed like nothing because I already had the knives and cutting boards out and the oven already heating because I was cooking spaghetti squash and roasting tomatoes (which by the way turned out ah-mazing). Anyway, so I was going to make cookies because I was in a dessert kind of mood but I also didn’t want to do the cleanup and the waiting that can go into my shortbread cookies and also I’d just bought several apples at the farmer’s market and it’s fall so it’s like apple pie season, right?

But I didn’t have any pie crust and I was not trying to make that from scratch after all the hard work I’d already done cutting a spaghetti squash in half (guys, it’s really hard, okay?). So I basically was like “excuse me, Google, can you tell me what delicious desserts I can make with apples that don’t involve pie crusts?” and Google was like “duh, I know everything.” (I could have asked Siri but I’m not really talking to him right now [yes, him. I changed the voice option to male and British and I used to have him read me my texts but then my husband got jealous and sent me rude texts that Siri then read, and it’s really uncool to have your own phone call you smelly in a sexy British accent]. Google, on the other hand, is always so helpful. Probably because I don’t have the thing where Google talks to you, and I just Google things the old fashioned way by typing them into Google. Okay, at this point I should probably get some sort of endorsement deal for the number of times I’ve mentioned Google, right?)

Moving on, I found a recipe for apple crisp that had been adapted from a peach crisp recipe, and I think it was on allrecipes.com but I don’t know for sure so I’m really really sorry to whomever is not receiving the proper credit for this recipe but I just don’t feel like getting back on the Google right now, especially since I’m not even getting paid to talk about Google.

It goes like this:

  • 1 cup flour
  • 1 cup white sugar (I think I’ll try trimming this down to like 3/4 cup next time…but it hasn’t been tested yet so proceed at your own risk)
  • 1/2 tsp cinnamon
  • 1/4 tsp salt
  • 1/2 cup butter, softened
  • 2 1/2 cups apples, peeled and sliced (I used 2 big Granny Smith apples and a decent-sized…Honeycrisp, maybe? I don’t remember I just started grabbing up apples without reading the labels — other than the Granny Smith which we all already know are poison-apple-green)
  1. Preheat oven to 375. Lightly grease 8×8 pan
  2. Layer in your apple slices. Eat a few because they don’t quite fit or because you feel like it (or because they fell on the stove top and your husband won’t eat the dessert if they’re included because he doesn’t trust that heat kills germs and besides, the stove top is actually pretty clean right now anyway, Charlie).
  3. In a large bowl, sift (or whisk) dry ingredients.
  4. Cut in butter. Okay, so I just remembered this was actually weird and difficult because I’ve never “cut in” butter before — I mean what even does that mean? I used my awesome brain power and context clues (the recipe said I could use two knives to do this) to kind of wing it. I just plopped my butter into the dry mixture and started slicing and dicing and sort-of-stirring until it was a crumbly sort of mixture.
  5. Sprinkle (or use my method: dump & spread) over the slices in the pan.
  6. Bake 40 minutes (until the crust is golden around the edges)
  7. Let it sit for a hot second and taste-test a small piece because apples get really dang hot and if you take too large a bite you will scald your entire mouth and throat and complain all night, Charlie.

Oh, and for my fellow Americans, don’t skip out on voting today! It’s super important, because what even is a democracy if the people don’t get a say, however tiny you might feel yours is? If nothing else, give yourself license to complain for the next four years by making a choice today. And then reward yourself with this dish.

Also bonus recipe because that spaghetti squash is still making me irrationally smug:

https://ramblingsofawildcard.wordpress.com/2016/11/08/dinner-so-easy-my-husband-could-do-it/

Thoughts on an Election

I don’t intend for this blog to become a political soapbox, but it is an outlet for my more rambling of thoughts, so bear with me once more as I throw yet another opinion into the world of social media.

Let’s face it, we have two of the worst options running for president this year. Hillary’s been in politics long enough to make a bunch of enemies, and long enough to inspire a bunch of support. Trump’s new to politics, which is terrifying for some and refreshing for others. They’re the two least popular candidates ever to run (but don’t tell Trump–or do, he won’t believe you anyway).

For every left-leaning news article that’s anti-Trump, you can find right-leaning ones to support him. He’s a great businessman. He’s had a lot of failed businesses. He’s well-loved by his workers. He’s been sued over non-payment many times. Back and forth, tit for tat, arguments for both sides fall on deaf ears.

I know I’m not going to convince anyone to switch sides; that’s not what I’m here about. We’re all entitled to our own opinions, and for the most part, we all feel strongly that our opinions are correct. I don’t want to write that someone else’s opinion is wrong, I want to write about why I hold the position I do.

For me, it’s not about Trump vs. Hillary, it’s whose platform is more closely aligned with what’s important to me and my vision of a great America. It’s about which candidate is least offensive for me, personally (okay…it’s a little #NeverTrump, but I did try to give him a chance).

For me, as a woman, I take offense to the degrading things he’s had to say about women, and to the idea that all should be forgiven because of his uncomfortably close relationship with one of his daughters (and it disturbs me he thinks they would be dating if she wasn’t his daughter). As someone close to and very respectful of the Jewish community, I take offense to his assurance to remain neutral on Israel, and to his “America First” mentality reminiscent of the anti-Semitic movement of the ’30s and ’40s which demanded we stay out of WWII and allow Nazism and genocide to sweep across Europe. As someone who believes that love and acceptance should be for all people, I take offense to his proposed wall, to his proposed registry of Muslim Americans, and to his proposal to ban anyone from coming to America (a country founded on principles of religious freedom) because of their religion. As a Christian, I take offense to the hatred, the bigotry, the negativity promoted by his campaign, especially when as a Christian, I am called to dwell on whatever is good, and right, and noble, and love my enemies. As a free American, I take offense to the admiration and respect he has blatantly touted for dictators. As a white person, I take offense to his reluctance to disavow support of the KKK, and to his “accidental” or “unintended” encouragement of white supremacist ideals. As a human being, black lives do matter to me. That doesn’t mean blue lives don’t; they do. It simply means black. lives. matter. They matter, and the black community needs to know that. For me, only one of the candidates can express that message clearly.

I wonder just what time we are hoping to get back to in order to consider America great “again”. Was it back when a woman’s place was in the home? Before we had the right to vote? Was it back when things were segregated? Before African Americans had the right to vote? Or maybe further, when blacks were considered property rather than people? Every decade of our history is rife with examples of triumph and tragedy. For every positive, there is at least one negative. The same is true today. It’s why America is great, and why she is hurting. We don’t need to move backwards. We need to learn from the mistakes of the past and keep charging forward. We need to acknowledge that America is a beautiful melting pot of all cultures, religions, races and ethnicity, and that is what makes her great.

Only one candidate sees the same America I do: one that is already great, but has the potential to be greater.