Tag Archives: gatsby

04.05.20
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Parking Violations, Blueberry Champagne, and a Ninja in the Living Room: more shenanigans as we enter week 3.

Let me tell you who’s not minding the “shelter at home” order. These guys.  In spite of the fact that I live 7 feet from my parked car, and have a visitor’s pass (the story of why I don’t have a permanent sticker is for another day,) these little pesky parking dudes are still leaving the comfort of their homes to disrupt the pollen on my car long enough to add a fresh ticket to the old one I still have under my wiper. For awhile, my “trick” of leaving the last ticket in place worked, but now that it’s spring in “the city of trees” and construction is still stirring up layers of dust, the grime on top of my last ticket isn’t fooling anyone. And, I’m back to using my Georgia driver’s license because I lost my California one on my last business trip, so that complicates things…I mean, I’d go take care of these things, but we’re supposed to be sheltering, right? As I’ve mentioned before, I follow the rules.

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I’m just hoping there’s going to be some “parking forgiveness” at some point, though my Google searches thus far don’t turn up any forgivable loans for the good citizens at 1700 20th street. Sigh.

Meanwhile, the 8 food magazine subscriptions around the house are finally getting some page-turning. Every time I get hit up for another school fundraiser, I opt for the magazine subscription, so while I certainly don’t have the ingredients I need for most of the recipes, I’m working through all kinds of interesting substitutions. (Don’t worry, no mystery meat has been thawed yet this weekend.)

My typical MO with a new recipe is to substitute half the ingredients for whatever I have on hand anyway, but with the current situation (and unlike the Sacramento street patrol) I AM minding the rules to stay home and feel like that gives me a pass on following a recipe properly. That said, I made this awesome goat-cheese cream sauce with truffle spaghetti this week.  I swapped the pappardelle pasta for truffle spaghetti, the peas for roasted broccoli, skipped the chives and lemon in trade for extra leeks and diced chicken from take out leftovers. Delish.

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Fun fact–did you know you can regrow leeks in water with no dirt? They’re already re-sprouting in the living room window, right next to the garlic I’m attempting to grow..stay tuned.

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In other breaking news, I brought back a little plant based eating yesterday, to undo other damage from the week. Nothing finer than butternut squash, halved, sprinkled with kosher salt and pepper, a little olive oil and a slow bake…heart happy. Meanwhile, Nicholas was making barf noises in the background, but as my dear friend Brandon would say, “Don’t Yuck My Yum!” I’ll eat both halves, thank you very much.

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Today I woke up feeling a little Gatsby in my soul, so since it was shower day anyway, I put on what I’m positive would have been Daisy Buchanan’s Sunday best: a sleeveless black flapper dress, pearls, and glitter eye shadow. I’m sure she wouldn’t have sported a knee wrap and orthopedic sneakers, but my fashion has its limits.  I poured some Spumante in one of my favorite Atlanta-Map glasses, added some frozen blueberries, and felt really fancy for a Sunday in quarantine.

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I got up to refill my champagne and literally thought I was about to be taken hostage by a Ninja type character in my living room; turns out it’s just Nicholas, living his best life in some sort of iridescent head wear that allows him to teleport or something. I don’t know what it’s supposed to do, but I hope it can at least kidnap an egg laying chicken.

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Keep some levity, friends; have some really cold, sweet champagne.  Make cupcakes and inject frosting into the center with an icing tip. Call someone you haven’t talked to in awhile. Write a thank you note for your mailman. Buy a couple fresh daisies the next time you brave the grocery store. Plan your Easter menu.  And send as much love into the universe as you can. And pray for me and the alien in my living room.

XOXO

05.26.14
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Gatsby? My Gatsby.

I didn’t teach The Great Gatsby this year– for the first time in 11 years of teaching. I have a somewhat bizarre obsession that began long before Leo and Jay-Z made it cool again.

I first taught the Gatsby the fall after I turned 22, when one of my only serious relationships finally came to its last end. in a lot of ways, I still chased my own past while I struggled to teach a novel that I didn’t even enjoy in high school. I found its lessons on love, letting go, and reserving judgement profound, long before I became enamored by the glitz, glamour, pearls, and lace of all things flappers and Daisy Buchanan.

My first go at the Gatsby probably left my students with few memorable classroom lessons, as I think I was the one who learned most. In many ways, I grew up this last decade with Gatsby by my side– a trusty friend and teacher who reminded me that that a long summer ahead holds all kinds of promises and life will inevitably start over again in the fall. As a teacher, this has absolutely held true, every year for the last decade, as summer always provided renewed hope and fall meant another chance to be a better person, a wiser teacher, and correct the mistakes from the prior year.

Over the years, I’ve honed the lessons of Gatsby into ways to reach students and have learned how to make a classic applicable and even modern to teenagers. The last few years my classroom has turned into a full fledged 20s throwback, complete with a movie project and a full costume Gatsby luncheon on the last days of school in May.

Last May, I wrapped up my last full year of teaching in a style of which I’m sure Fitzgerald would have been proud. I began the day in white as Daisy Buchanan, and most of my students dressed up; the guys wore snazzy suits and the girls went all out with flapper dresses, pearls, floppy hats and feathered hair pieces. We drank school appropriate versions of Mint Juleps, ate finger sandwiches and watched the student remakes of Gatsby scenes. It was a fantastic final day of glitz, jazz, pearls and Gatsby charm. As the new movie released, we took our party to the theater in partial costume to witness the modern interpretation.

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Daisy Buchanan at our luncheon last May.

In the absence of a classroom to decorate this spring, I redecorated our guest bathroom in Fitzgerald’s honor. My two copies of the text with 10 years of annotations and insights made up the wall paper and I hung the 70s movie posters from my classroom. A few bits of homemade lace and old pearls helped to soften the space, and while I have yet to figure out how to hook up motion censored audio, I’m pretty content with my Fitzgerald tribute.

In spite of the fact that the past constantly does reshape my future, I also know that summer does stretch out ahead with new promises and life most certainly does start over each year; the lessons of Gatsby are inevitably accurate, even this year as the school year ends without me in it.

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald

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