Up and running.

Takeninhand.com is back.

Hmmm... maybe I'll post on that site...

You can still be submissive and be an equal.

Takeninhand.com is currently out of commission. It seems "taken in hand" is more popular in the UK than it is in the States.

Here is another website on the subject that is very well-produced: Humbled Females.

(See also my 3/4/07 post.)

Wish you were here :-)

Ms. Jackson done sang it: "I'm in CONTROL."

I hate controlling relationships. To see a person subjugate oneself to another, the so-called "alpha," him or her rimlicking without knowing it, his/her head totally in the dark of the domineering person. It is not just chauvinist men controlling doormat women -- it pisses me off more to see a woman pistol-whipping a man, emasculating him to the point of rendering him a certified eunuch.

The acrid taste that comes up when a girl talks flippantly of her "stupid boyfriend," or a woman demeaning "her man" for not doing exactly what she demanded or summoning some innate ESP and reading her mind. It comes up whether she chastises him in front of me, or confides to me her dissatisfaction and tries to appeal to our common womanhood -- that supposedly as a woman, she automatically possesses the "universal right" in a relationship. (I have to check myself and admit I'm guilty of this BS in past relationships. I know now why I acted and reacted that way. As I've said, know your triggers...)

An eyewitness account of such a dysfunctional relationship: my former best girlfriend from the neighborhood. (Bitch was already on the outs with me since being a histrionic mooch at my birthday celebration, for which she is too conceited to apologize.) She enslaves her husband en total. He's indebted to her because their "love match" of a marriage also fortuitously saved him from deportation -- and she makes him pay for it with his pride. The whole purpose of his being now is to make his wife successful. I've never heard what his goals are.

No wonder he drinks himself into a stupor almost every night. No wonder he wants to spend his whole paycheck playing pool at pubs, defying his wife's Oprah-budget rules. I can even understand his violent side, the anger he takes out on inanimate objects, the Martha-Stewart WASPy material things she so covets and values. She boasts how she plucked him from the crowd, changing him from a shirking wallflower, picked his hipster clothes and turned him into something; now she is horrified to see what that something really is.

I don't hang out with them anymore. My easygoing smile and nonmaterial outlook are wasted on the likes of them. (Before I cut them off, I had a very bemusing incident, maybe too much to recount on this blog.) She refuses to ever admit she's wrong. She expects me to be as a much of a bootlicker as her husband. Don't hold your breath, woman. I actually enjoy hearing dissenting viewpoints -- openness deepens understanding. But I won't back down from my principles.

As a single mother, I have to be very selective when choosing a potential partner (even if it's just for a fun time or a good screw). Being steadfastly Pro-Choice, it was a point of empowerment for me to choose to be a single mother. Whoever I bring now into my life and my son's life, I have to enforce that same control. I am looking for an equal.

I am such a fucking sinner.

So my Lenten resolution has been all but annihilated by the ever-present bile and other filth in my mouth. For the life of me, I can't wash it away. There is just something about a nice, juicy cussword on which my throat loves to wrap around.

Words are not my strong suit.

Words are not my strong suit.
I never considered them to be.
For most of my life, my words staggered out threaded between long silences of thought.
That was not how I expressed how I felt.
Words can be inadequate and inaccurate.
Even flights of gibberish, the cooing into the ear, the purring of the lips,
All have more meaning laced into them than the most perfect syntax.
And as the song goes, "words are meaningless and forgettable,"
They too are worn out and recycled ad nauseum.
That is not how I express myself.
My actions are my voice.
Watch what I do to tell you how I feel.
If I crane my neck and breathe out an inaudible sigh,
If I turn my body turns towards you and my eyelids drop heavy,
That is all exposition.
If my fingers graze your shoulders,
Then they touch the furrow of your brow and trace down past the tip of your nose,
That is all explanatory.
There are many more things that my body can say,
But my words will not do them justice.
You will have to feel for yourself.

The next guy I date:

Should familiarize himself with the term "taken in hand." He also should be able to openly discuss it with me and understand what I mean it to be.

Other essential reads from takeninhand.com:

• What is Taken in Hand?
  
• Could this kind of relationship be for you?
  
• Give me intensity or give me death!
  
• I am a strong woman but I want to be taken in hand. Is this normal?
• The submissive alpha female
  (Scroll down for some great scenarios.)
• Who says you have to be submissive?
  
• I don't want to be a servant or slave
• Do you have a commanding presence?
  
• Is your new man dominant, domineering, or a dithering wimp?

(Ever since I watched the movie Secretary [with James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal; click right photo] when it was released a few years ago, I've become fascinated with this subject. But it was only today that I found out there was name for this kind of relationship.)

The next guy I date:

must have chemistry with me. It's not just physical attraction, but that's a very essential component to the mix. It's something more — something almost volatile, caustic. It's the electricity that goes through me when he enters the room, or when I hear his voice at the other end of the line, imagining the heat at the end of his words. Not having any layers on, not having to be someone I'm not. It's being exposed but not feeling vulnerable. We'll have reams and reams of things we can talk about, without wanting to stop. And I'll have reams and reams of things to say with my lips, with my hands, with everything else...

My latest crush: Gordon Buchanan

He's a nature filmmaker. He's adventurous. He's Scottish. He's smart. He's sexy. He just needs to shave more often, and I'll love him even more. (He reminds me of a favorite actor of mine, Ben Chaplin, from Birthday Girl with Nicole Kidman, and Terrence Malick's WWII epic, The Thin Red Line.)

See Gordon Buchanan in Expedition Borneo on The Science Channel.

His Nature documentary, Leopards of Yala, has clips on the PBS website.

RECIPE Tip of the Day 2/14/07: My legendary muffin

Happy Valentine's Day! Smootches to all!

If you are single like me, and are looking for love (or sex) in all the wrong places, try offering one of these muffins to a cute, interesting person you'd like to get to know better.

Chocolate-Chip, Cranberry, Walnut, Oat Bran Muffins
My muffin has made me famous among my mommy circles and co-workers.
*See Shopping Tips below.

Dry Ingredients
1 cup all-purpose unbleached flour*
2/3 cup whole wheat pastry flour or oat flour*
2/3 cup oat bran, plus 2 tbsp for sprinkling on top*
1 tbsp baking powder (double acting, aluminum-free)
½ tsp sea salt or kosher salt
½ tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp baking soda, if using yogurt, sour cream or buttermilk; omit if using milk

Stir-ins
1 cup chocolate chips (about half of a 12-oz package)*
1/3 cup dried cranberries
1 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped

Wet Ingredients
2 large eggs (left out for about 30 mins)
¼ unsalted butter, melted*
¼ coconut oil (melted if solid)*
2/3 cup organic sugar or evaporated cane juice or sucanat*
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup yogurt*, buttermilk or sour cream, pref. whole; can also use milk (not ice cold)

1. Preheat oven to 400˚ F.
2. In a medium sized bowl, whisk together dry ingredients.
3. In another medium sized bowl, toss stir-ins together with 1 tbsp of dry mixture. Set aside.
4. In a large bowl, whisk wet ingredients together, fully stirring the sugar to dissolve. Coconut oil may form small lumps if the eggs and yogurt, etc. are very cold.
5. Grease a standard-size 12 count muffin tin.
6. Take dry flour ingredients and stir into the wet ingredients for about 10-12 strokes, until almost all the flour mix is moistened. Add stir-ins with another 2-3 strokes. Do not over stir. Batter will not be smooth.
7. Using an ice cream scoop or a ¼-cup measuring spoon, drop batter into the muffin tin cups evenly. Sprinkle tops with reserved oat bran.
8. Place muffin tin in oven. Reduce heat to 375˚ F—very important!
   
9. Check for doneness in about 18-20 minutes. (Use the “clean toothpick” test.)
10. For cooling, spread a hand towel on the counter and flip the muffin tin, crown side down, onto the towel. Let cool upside down.

*Shopping Tips:

Flours and Oat Bran: I insist on using organic whenever possible. Arrowhead Mills makes organic versions of all of these flours (except oat bran). Bob's Red Mill is another reputable brand for flours and brans, though not everything is organic. The most likely place to find these brands and choices under one roof is Whole Foods Market. (Beware of Whole Foods store brand all-purpose flour because it is not 100% wheat and therefore I could not guarantee the results). Some health food stores offer these ingredients in bulk containers too. They are fine too (support local business!) but give the flour a bit of an inspection before bagging.

Chocolate Chips: I have gotten into reading the ingredients of these bags, and what I have found that the brands that add milk fat in place of cocoa butter, such as Nestlé, Hershey, and generic store brands, are inferior to the ones that just have cocoa (or chocolate) liquor, sugar and vanilla. Baker's has a good chocolate chunk (though they use artificial vanilla). The best for the value is Trader Joe's at $1.79 a bag! (Compare to $2.99 and up for the name brands.)

Butter: European-style butter has less water than conventional butter, which makes it extra delicious in baking (and everything else really). (Get Plugrá coupons here!)

Coconut Oil: Coconut oil, a common cooking oil in tropical countries, has gotten a bad rep for decades in the US for its high saturated fat content and studies in the mid-20th century done with hydrogenated coconut oil. Coconut oil has since made a comeback, as virgin coconut oil (meaning unrefined), but is mostly available at health food/vitamin stores, not the supermarket. I buy mine from the Vitamin Shoppe, which has good sales on health food ingredients. I usually buy Nutiva coconut oil, which by the way, is made in the Philippines (PINOY PINAY POWER!).

If you can't find coconut oil, just use all butter, or vice versa.

Organic sugar, et. al.: Organic sugar is a vague term, because there are various levels of refinement that go into making sugar of any kind. Evaporated cane juice is a generic term for sugar that has minimal processing. Sucanat is a brand name of evaporated cane juice, and is one of the darkest brown ones on the market (meaning it will impart a delicious molasses/brown sugar taste to your foods). All three—organic sugar, evaporated cane juice, sucanat—may be in the bulk section of your local health food store.

Yogurt, etc.: If using whole fat, non-homogenized yogurt, buttermilk or sour cream, remember to stir the contents in the container before using it to evenly distribute the fat. I like Fage, a Greek yogurt, which strains most of the water out of the yogurt before packaging, therefore it is extra-rich.

(I used Fage, as well as oat flour, in my last batch of these muffins, and I think they were my best so far!)

The next guy I date:

Will prep vegetables for me while I cook dinner.

I miss arthouse films...

Forget mainstream, R-rated films. It's the unrated foreign or indie films that I miss the most now that I am a mother, especially now that my son is a very aware toddler. As a single mom struggling with her budget too, it is hard to find an excuse for spending $25+ for just a visit to a far off arthouse movie theatre, not to mention the subway time and fare, and the distinct possibility that grisly popcorn and nuked nachos will not satiate my stomach. Then add the hassle of sneaking in a bottle of seltzer and maybe a Quiznos sandwich. On top of that, try coordinating schedules with an ex-boyfriend-turned-parenting-partner who will babysit for free, only if he can raid your fridge. Last but not least, breast engorgement from staying away from my nursing child too long...

At long last, my cable provider, Time Warner, added an "International Movies on Demand" Channel, an offshoot of the "Indie" section on the general "Movies on Demand" Channel. My prayers were somewhat answered — there are some interesting sounding films listed, but many are years old. If I'm looking for the latest Almodóvar film that was just released on DVD, this is not the channel to search.

Yesterday was my second time ordering a Pay-Per-View movie, and both had been from the "International" Channel. (The first was a French period film, A Song of Innocence, about the life of a wetnurse in the 19th century — excellent and resonant film that could be applied to the politics of mothering and breastfeeding today.) Yesterday, I ordered 1996's The Stendhal Syndrome, a tale of a policewoman in Italy hunting for a serial rapist/killer. It stars Asia Argento, who I have a girl-crush on (she is like a cross between Chloë Sevigny and Angelina Jolie; if I were a dyke I'd totally fuck her — actually all three of them) and Thomas Kretschmann, this blond German up-and-coming hottie, who was in King Kong and The Pianist with Adrien Brody.

It was melodramatic, heavy-handed with the dialogue and acting. It was extremely gory and violent, considering it came from Europe and since it's from 1996, it predates the CSI-TV and Saw-movie series. It was also impressively imaginative in its hallucinatory depiction of an actual Stendhal Syndrome sufferer and the viseral nature of this sociopath's crimes. Asia Argento shows off her dichotomous butch/femme side (which is making her hot in Hollywood action films right now) as an avenging riot grrrl on Thomas Kretschmann's disturbingly sexy sadist with washboard abs (his second-fiddle roles in King Kong and The Pianist did not put him on the map for me). (I did not actually finish the climax of the film because Time Warner's On Demand system can be wonky and block your access to content often, even if your account is in good terms. A frequent topic for me with TW reps on their 24-hour hotline.)

I recommend this film if you're cringe-factor is quite resilient, both to violence and Jean Cocteau-esque European cinematic excess. Also, I recommend you put your child down to sleep for the night or a very long nap.