Christmas Cookies | Blogmas Day 15

As you may or may not have picked up from my last two posts, I’m fairly shit at anything cooking wise. Not really, but my misadventures aren’t usually enjoyably edible. However, I can do eggless gingerbread cookies. That I can do.

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With help from the Christmas spices and Dean Martin on repeat, I managed to not cause a complete disaster in the kitchen! There were a lot of “nonononoNO a TEASPOON” and “ohmYGOD that’s not butter” moments, but I got through them. And all on three hours of sleep! [NB NB NB DON’T ROMANTICISE UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOUR PLEASE GET THE CORRECT AMOUNT OF SLEEP I.E A BARE MINIMUM OF 5 HOURS]

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Despite being a little crumbly initially, the dough worked itself out and I managed to take zero pictures of the cookies before they were baked. At this stage I should note that we have not a single cookie cutter in our house. Not even one. So, my humble butter knife and I did what we could.

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The icing was a bit of a process, and I got the help from my little sister who was more keen on spreading intermittent fear rather than the joy that comes with the festive season.

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“hey shalom, we should call this one the child of lilith.”

 

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All is well. Merry almost Christmas from me, and the chamomile tea that’s supposed to put me to bed tonight. 10 days til Christmas!

this is one of my favourite christmas-goes-punk versions of a christmas song. it’s also, in my opinion, ridiculously random.

Love and light,
shalom

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4 a.m. sunrise

Being up for the sunrise is different to getting up to see the sunrise. See, it’s 5:11 A.M where I live, and I’m yet to find sleep. This is a usual occurrence for me. It’s a pity; the sunrise seems to lose its brilliance when the only thing you have to offer to the awakening earth is your exhausted, eye-bagged self.SAM_2241.JPG

The sunrise is always changing. It starts as it does: a little dark and highlighted by the little lights and houses that mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, but everything to those that dwell in them. The orange gives this crazy kind of hope – dare I say misconception? – that the sun will come up, and the brilliant blue sky will present itself, and the day to come will unfold with the same kind of magic.

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The early bird catches the worm, and somebody zooms past the house front in an attempt to get to the train station before it’s crowded, or to get away from everything else that is crowded. The sky starts to brighten, and more people stir. The joggers come out, and the birds make more noise than they were making ten minutes ago.

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It’s an every day thing, the sunrise. I suppose our tininess is too. Every day, all of us – inconsequential people – wake up in our inconsequential houses to run our inconsequential errands until we die. Inconsequentially.

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I didn’t get to see the sunrise. There was no sunrise today. More than a sunrise, there was an overwhelming period of cloud cover with a dormant sun threatening ever so slightly to peek through. The cloud cover seemed to almost exactly mirror my mental state. 2015 has been a lot of grey.

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I feel quite strange today. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep over the last six months, maybe it’s the lack of medication, the weather, the hyper-awareness – I don’t know what this is. I know that I have three very distinct lines of feeling, though. One: I am terrified of everything and I want it all to stop, I want to stop being afraid, I want to be alone and at the same time, not. Two: I am more powerful than anyone could ever imagine. If you’re not scared of me, you should be. There is nothing that the world could throw at me that my brain hasn’t already. Not even death. Three: Nothing. I feel nothing. I am apathetic under a stained white shirt and jeans that used to make me feel something.

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I am not the teenage girl who gets up at 4 AM to see the sunrise. I am the girl who stands on a rooftop at 4 AM after being awake for longer than she can remember and sifts through the surrounding sounds while wrapped in her friend’s blanket.

It is not ideal. But, there have been, and will continue to be worse things that can and will happen at 4 A.M.

there are worse things than being awake at 4 am. another day will come, and the sunrise will come. eventually.

And all the kids cried out,
“Please stop, you’re scaring me”
I can’t help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?

Control – HALSEY

Love and light,
shalom

 

TV Break | Blogmas Day 14

To be quite honest, I don’t know what it is. I’m not sure in the slightest why I find myself watching Nigella Lawson after midnight. I don’t know why she tells people to whisk ferociously or calls mayo “gorgeously voluminous” or olive oil “rounded”. I have no clue what any of this means. I don’t know why she wants to excommunicate people over green peppers. I have no clue why she calls leeks “slave workers”.

What I do know is that I haven’t yet been back to the doctor to get my meds for December, so I haven’t managed to get much sleep or be in the best mental state. Also that the Food Network is the only quality thing on TV.

Why does she keep peppering in bad jokes and Italian words? (Possibly because the show is called Nigellissima. Idk.) What is the difference between Extra Virgin Olive Oil and regular olive oil? Why do “the purists hate garlic oil”? Maybe it’s a cooking thing, but either way, I don’t get it.

I also don’t know why I turned to the TV for a Christmas recipe that I will never make as opposed to the internet. Why is Nigella making an hour’s cake in a 40 minute episode? WHY DID SHE JUST CALL THE CHICKEN A BIRDISH BIRD AND WHY DID SHE JUST SAY I WILL HACK THIS TO PIECES? My poor vegetarian heart.

I have found no recipes I can make, but I have sat through a terrible, terrible lot of shows on MTV. Geordie Shore, Ex On The Beach and Are You The One – I’m looking at you.

I JUST SAW AN ADVERT FOR THE DOCTOR WHO CHRISTMAS SPECIAL OH MY DJAKLDKFJSBHDFJGBSJFBG. Engie LOOK. So that’s why people still watch telly.

How do TV Chefs have net worths of £32 million? I suppose it’s a job like any other job, and people work just as hard to become five star chefs as they do to become Doctors? Perhaps that’s an insult – to the doctors or the Chefs? Ooh, Eastenders is coming back!

I have only been awake for 14 hours today, so getting to sleep now won’t be easy. But I do have an interview, and as they say in the land of capitalism, cash is king.

To better days, and better TV!

Love and light,
shalom x