How can you have a bad day when your lunch is a color wheel?

Spinach-artichoke dip, root vegetable & squash soup, herbal tea, water.

Cleanse Recap

Scroll down for food photos!

Well, I’ve all but completed my fourth cleanse to date. At midnight tonight, I’ll be able to eat, drink and consume whatever I want. I’m not entirely sure why, but this was a difficult one for me. I stuck to it, but not 100%. I let a couple of things with natural sugar slide by, only because Scott was kind enough to do the grocery shopping for me a couple of times and accidentally got sweetened soy milk. And I munched on a couple zucchini muffins I’d had in the freezer before realizing I’d sweetened them with brown sugar and not honey. But all in all, I did well. It was just difficult to resist temptation! For the record, during this two week cleanse I took the Renew Life Organic Cleanse and I gave up the following things:

1. Meat
2. Dairy
3. Sugar (natural sweeteners like honey and maple syrup were allowed but I refrained from those for the most part)
4. Alcohol
5. Caffiene

Many people have asked why I chose to do this, and there are really several reasons:

1. To let my body clean itself out. This is probably the biggest reason. Foods like red meat and cheese are hard for the body to digest, which results in feeling slow, heavy and cloudy-minded after time. We generally use caffeine and other stimulants to counteract this, but of course that’s not an ideal solution.
2. To give myself a personal challenge. I don’t like the idea of “needing” any particular substance or food to live. I want to be in control of my choices. And I like to test my willpower sometimes. If I feel I’ve gotten into a rut of less-than-healthy choices, the only way to break out of it is to just stop for a period of time.
3. To end bad habits for good. When I come off a cleanse, I also find it easier to resist things that are bad for me. One of the things I’m most proud of is quitting smoking completely after stopping for a cleanse. I was able to go two weeks without cigarettes and it felt great, so I never started again.
4. To lose weight. That is not the main goal, but I usually lose about five pounds every time I cleanse.
5. To feel good. It’s really a strange and wonderful feeling when I’m cleansing. I feel more aware and alert in a really wonderful way. I wake up in the morning and have lots of energy and no headache. I think clearly and  sleep very deeply at night.

Things I learned from this cleanse:

1. By far, the hardest thing to go without was coffee. More than sugar, alcohol or anything else. I don’t necessarily think it was the caffeine withdrawal. That goes away in about three days for me. But it’s the scent, the warmth, the taste, the whole morning ritual of drinking coffee. That’s what I missed the most.
2. When you go without sugar, fruit tastes extremely sweet and sweetened soy or almond milk tastes like liquid candy. It made me realize how too much indulgence can dull the tastebuds, leaving you wanting more.
3. It’s okay to let something slide once in a while, but not too much. If it’s going to make you absolutely miserable to be without, then indulge a little. I don’t think it’s necessarily healthy to rigidly deny all cravings.
4. I thought I could eliminate one of the above things for good this time, but I don’t think I’m quite ready for a vegetarian or vegan diet. I like both very much and I want to explore more cooking and baking techniques, but I will continue to eat fish, lean white meat and a little cheese.

I’ll probably do my next one in about six months or so, depending on how well I take care of myself. Maybe you’ll join me?

Here are some photos of vegan food I made:

Whole wheat tomato tartlets with cilantro and a sauce made from Tofutti cream cheese, garlic and a little soy sauce.

Ingredients for ww tomato tartlets.

Butternut squash and corn chowder.

Squash & corn chowder simmering on the stove.

Raw produce waiting to made into delicious vegan meals!

Indigo #18 is hot off the presses!

After a long 2 years, I finally have a new issue! In Indigo #18 I write about leaving Chicago after 32 years, my club kid days in the ’90s and friendship with the legendary party promoter Zoe Orgasma and adjusting to rural life in Kentucky. I am very proud of this issue and I hope you enjoy it too! $4 US / $5 North America / $6 World. Buy on Etsy  or send concealed cash to:

Michelle Aiello / Indigo Zine
P.O. Box 163
Millersburg KY 40348

Also available: Mish Libs, my take on the classic word game Mad Libs. Fill out stories like “How to Spot a Hipster”, “All About Lumberjacks” and “Mmm…Casserole” using your own words. Create your own ridiculous stories that will only be funny to the friends you drunkenly made them with! Available for $2.50 US / $3.50 North America / $4.50 World.

I hope to see you at the Chicago Zine Fest this year! It falls on my birthday, March 10th, at Colombia College. Thanks for your support and much love!

Sorry I haven’t updated, but….

I’m not so sure a personal blog is something I can put my creatvity and energy into. I’ve tried, but it doesn’t really feel right. I’m working on Indigo #18 right now. It’s a lot more fulfilling and satisfying to actually make something. I’ll let you all know when it’s finished.

And since you can’t have a blog entry without a picture, here’s a scanned photo of Lux Interior looking completely fabulous in Jane magazine.

 

Oh yeah, I live in Kentucky now. Write me at: P.O. Box 163, Millersburg KY 40348

Fall Fever (A Small Collection of Inspirational Things)

I know summer is not officially over, but I’ve got fall fever in a bad way.  I have been feeling a rush of inspiration for colorful days and crisp nights. And the fashions! Oh, the fashions. My spring and summer wardrobe is pretty basic. I just want to be comfortable while still maintaining some class, so it’s mostly just cottons. I do 90% of my wardrobe buying during the fall months. I’ve been daydreaming of textured tights, soft scarves, velvet jackets, tall boots, and LAYERS. Besides ample opportunities to look good, fall is great because the weather is crisp but not yet freezing, and Halloween is just around the corner (I’m actually typing this while my all-black cat sits beside me in a the “loaf” position). So in anticipation for this fabulous season, I want to share some images that have been inspiring me.

Since we’re on the subject of fashion, for the past year or so, I have been absolutely taken by the work of Emily Ryan. I recently bought her gray hooded tunic and I love it. The uniqueness, quality and sculptural style of her clothing is such an inspiration to me. It’s good to see a young independent designer who is totally kicking ass and taking the time to produce quality work and original ideas. Plus, we share a favorite book – Geek Love. Can you tell I have a crush?

This weekend I took a trip to Bookman’s Alley in Evanston, and I found an old fanzine about GHOSTS. I highly recommend a trip to Bookman’s if you haven’t been. It’s tucked away in (not surprisingly) an alley off Sherman Street, and it’s filled with the most wonderful, rare and fascinating collection of books, art and curiosities. The proprietor is a white haired gentleman who sits at a desk near the front of this sprawling shop, reading books. The first time I went, I didn’t have enough cash to pay for my purchases, so he actually wrote his address on a slip of paper and asked me to mail him a check. Need I say more?

The zine is called Springhouse and it’s dated October 1989. I didn’t think Bookman’s Alley had zines at all, and I this one might have been on display for Halloween, so I think I was lucky to discover it. Something that combines my love of zines with my fascination for the supernatural? Awesome.

The layout and quality of the Springhouse is amazing. The ghost stories have names like “The Bundle at Holloway Hill”, “The Vineyard Warning” and “The Woman in the Blooded Back Bonnet”. And all true – or at least in the sense that they were all told from someone’s personal experience at one time or another. The writing is very good with an unmistakably amateurish quality that I love. I appreciate how the publisher went through the trouble to cite specific sources from people or folklore so the reader can see where the stories originated.  And in the midst of all the ghost stories there is a recipes section with things like Sweet Potato Pone and Scalloped Turnips. Delightful.

Unlike most modern zines, there’s really not much I can discern about the publisher, except that his name is Gary DeNeal and he lived in a small town called Herod, Illinois. There was even rubber stamped envelope with an ad and subscription card inside that was folded in the spine. It was preserved in a plastic sleeve, which is probably why it was in such good condition nearly 22 years later. As incredibly dorky as it sounds, it made me realize that I really should do that if I want some of my favorite zines to last through the decades. I couldn’t find anything when I initially seated online, but I think I’m going to dig a little deeper and try to find out more about this fine independent publication.

Here’s to a creative fall!
-Mish

Partenting Fail.

I know it’s a couple years old, but I just came across this book while researching cosmetic surgery procedures. Obviously, I am not against plastic surgery itself; most of you know that I plan on getting a couple of procedures as soon as I possibly can. And humans have been modifying their bodies one way or another since the dawn of time, so I don’t think anyone should be judged for getting plastic surgery.

I think this resonated more strongly with me now because my niece Hazel Jane was born this week. I know my sister and her husband will do an amazing job raising her, and I look forward to being an aunt and helping to take care of a child that is closer to me genetically than any other.  Getting back to the book, I know that parents have a great responsibility to educate their children and prepare them for all the weird and confusing crap in the world.  But I have to agree with Jezebel; a book like this is not appropriate your kids. Plastic surgery (and the issues of body image that go along with it) is something that a child should only be introduced to after s/he reaches a certain maturity level. If not, it can cause them to examine and evaluate what nature gave them at a very early age, and children (girls especially) already have to deal with that as it is.

I agree that if you’re a parent of young children and you’re getting plastic surgery, you’ll have to come up with a reason why you’ll be going away and returning covered in bandages. But this surgeon and his book are just ridiculous. The mother’s explanation that she wants to be “different and prettier” is just overly simplistic. Who would buy this for their kid? Fail.

I recently broke one of my personal rules.

I got into an argument online.

Of course, started with a Facebook comment. Someone who I didn’t know (a friend of a someone who reads Indigo and who I’ve never met) had the following status message:  “Dear “nice guys” of the world: Yes, a lot of chicks go for jerks instead of you. You know why? Because we’re damaged people. Don’t blame us; Blame the bastards that screwed us up in the first place.”

Like I said, I am normally pretty good at keeping my knee-jerk reactions in check (and on Facebook this is always a challenge) but I just couldn’t ignore the senselessness and juvenile quality of that statement. Now, whether you agree with me or not is not the issue (and trust me, I really don’t want to get into another discussion about this). But I couldn’t help myself. I said But I said that was a weak cop-out, and that blaming your issues on others is extremely lame. I ended it with. “Rise above and make it better. Allow yourself to be loved in a healthy way.”

Well. That comment didn’t go over too well with these ladies, to say the least. Three or four of them ganged up and completely attacked me, telling me I was stupid, ignorant, idiotic, uneducated, a bitch. Oh, and they also spouted a bunch of psycho babble and some rhetoric they got out of a sociology book, “liking” each other’s comments all the while. I was completely astounded by their anger, hate and aggression toward me. I admit, I had no business interjecting in a stranger’s conversation, and I learned my lesson there. But I’ve been thinking about this whole situation ever since, and I realized that when you’re online and everyone’s  anonymous, it’s easy to forget that there’s an actual person behind the typing. And that goes both ways. Sure, I was angry and hurt by their comments, but I know that it must have been an extremely sensitive issue to make them act so viciously toward me.

But the thing is, if they hadn’t done that, I may have been more likely to see them as human beings and emphasize with them. But it didn’t turn out that way. I ended up making another comment to clarify/expand on my point. And when that was met with another onslaught, I just ducked out, with one last comment that “damaged” was indeed the right word for them. I couldn’t help but add, “This is why I hang out with men”.  (Which I do…but that’s a whole other story. I do crave female companionship, I’ve just never been good at it, I guess.) But the point is, everyone has their own way of dealing with personal problems, and as hateful and crazed as those young women were, I didn’t call them names or get personal the way they did me. I didn’t waste my time writing novel-length comments about how stupid they are for not agreeing with me. That is too much effort to go through for people who had undoubtedly made up their minds about me.  I just had to put it out of my mind, and writing about an experience always helps me do that.

And also because of their aggression, I would never give them the satisfaction of knowing that their comments actually made me think and to remember that there is a human being on the other side of the screen that has gone through things that I have no knowledge of.  I could have wasted a whole weekend arguing online with people I’ll never meet and getting nowhere, but that’s lame.  I just have to rise above and make it better.

Notes from a Shady Bench

Again, I’ve started to reevaluate my projects and how I spend my time. This is a good thing. It’s easy to get caught up in a daily routine, and when this happens, one can lose sight of what’s important.

If you’re reading this, you probably know that my boyfriend Scott is in a band. I knew that this would involve periods of separation, and I’ve been trying to keep an open mind about it. I had a few dark days last week where I felt uncertain and melancholy about not being able to see him, but that has since passed and I feel normal again. His current tour is ending on Sunday and we’ll be reunited then. But the point I wanted to make is that these times of solitude are good for me (and for us). It gives me a chance to check in with myself.

I have a week day off today, which I always appreciate. It’s a beautiful day, so I spent the morning on my patio drinking coffee and reading X-Ray, the autobiography of Ray Davies. Now I’m sitting on a bench outside Red Eyes Cafe, which is around the corner from my house. I’d started X-Ray months before, but I still had a few chapters left. I won’t lie, reading this book (and listening to the beautiful Kinks album The Village Green Preservation Society) is a way for me to feel closer to Scott while he’s away. He identifies with Davies and The Kinks maybe more than any other person or band.  I can see why too, and I completely relate to Davies’ desire to hold on to dreams and artistic integrity no mater what anyone says or does. And to never forget the Village Green, that magical place where anything and everything is possible. This book and album is making me a realize that I have always felt the duality that Davis talks about – feeling nostalgic for a time I have never experienced (in his case, the dignity of Old England), but at the same time, wanting to remove one’s self from any and all constraints and live completely free. This is something that has always been on my mind in one way or another, but lately, it’s been resonating.

I think it’s because for the very first time in my life, at the age of 31, I have a job that I love. There are so many reasons for this, both superficial and meaningful. I know one’s work does not define a person, but I have always struggled to find a way to sustain myself using the talents and passions that I was so lucky to be born with. Not only that, but I can do it six blocks from where I live.

While this is amazing and thrilling, I can’t help but be disappointed at the time it’s come into my life. I’m in love, and while it’s not for the first time, I am very confident and hopeful for my future with Scott. We talk about future plans and things we’d like to do. And one of those things is to escape the city and move somewhere where the pace of life is more relaxed and the cost of living is lower. If this had come up six or seven months ago, I probably would have left in a heartbeat. I was almost completely drained from two long years of spotty or unstable employment. But at the end of a bitterly cold winter, an amazing opportunity was presented, and I took it. And let me tell you, before this, I never had a job that didn’t seem like a necessary evil or a grudging obligation.

So that’s my dilemma, in my typical long-winded fashion. I want to go with Scott. I’m scared, but I want to  try living outside of Chicago for a change. I want to step out of my comfort zone, which is very difficult for me. After all, I was born here, I went to college here and I’ve never lived anywhere else in my life. But at the same time, I feel that I should stay at my job for at least two years so I can build up some credibility and experience as an editor.

This is such a wonderful time for me, but also such a confusing and uncertain one. It’s also sobering to know that I can ask for the advice of others, but ultimately, this is on my shoulders. I will just have to use my instincts and hope I make the right decision.

Zine Fest & Birthday Weekend

I just got home from the Chicago Zine Fest, and my head is a-buzz with everything that has gone on. This has been one of the busiest weeks of my life, with my birthday dinner party (am I really 31!?) and preparations for the Zine Fest in every hour of my spare time. I’ve been folding and binding zines, making greeting cards and working on a piece for the reading at Quimby’s (in addition to my 45-hour work week). But now I can finally catch my breath for a minute and reflect on everything.

For my birthday, Scott got tickets to The Magnetic Fields show, so we went to that on Monday.  A quirky girl called Laura Bennett opened, and I was definitely charmed by her.  The Mag Fields played an amazing two-hour show.  It reminded me how much I love that band, and how no one can write a love song like Stephen Meritt.

On Wednesday (my actual birthday) a bunch of friends and I went to Sweets & Savories, a French/American restaurant in Lincoln Park. It was great to see everyone that came out, and the food was very good. I got seared scallops with foie gras risotto and mango sauce and Scott got a steak with a huge pile of pomme frites. The service was not so great. They were obviously trying to hurry us along toward the end of the night, and the waiter didn’t even try to hide his incredulity that some of my friends only wanted one course instead of three. It’s too bad, because I probably would have gone back if the service was better. There’s too much competition in this city when it comes to restaurants not to give outstanding service. Oh well. As a surprise, I brought Underberg for everyone to try after dinner. I learned about digestives like these and Swedish Bitters at the Apothecary and I love them. They are the perfect thing to settle your stomach and prevent a “food coma” or hangover. Brilliant stuff.

Then there was the reading at Quimby’s last night. I must say, I don’t do many live readings these days. The last few times I’ve done them, it’s been something lighthearted or silly, like live Mad Libs. And that’s always fun, but someone close to me recently said that she’d like to see me challenge myself and read one of my more personal pieces. She was totally right, and I appreciated the comment. I knew it was time to take the plunge and read something that was more emotionally intimate. I have no problem pouring my heart out on paper, but in person, there is nowhere to take cover. Unlike musicians or visual artists, or even fiction writers, there isn’t any ambiguity or “character” to hide behind. It’s just me. But I decided that if I’m going to do this, then I’ll have to go all the way.

I read reworking of an essay called “Skin Deep” that deals with my complex feelings after my 70-pound weight loss. When I was working on it, I was tempted to delete certain lines, but I forced myself to keep them. Quimby’s was packed. The organizers of the fest did a great job getting the word out. When I was called up to read, my stomach was in knots. But I read my piece, trying to keep my voice from wavering. It was met with a huge round of applause, and since then, many people have come up to me and told me how much they liked it, how brave it was to say those things, and how much they appreciated it. I really wasn’t prepared for such a positive reaction. I mean, I was half afraid I would come off as completely shallow, but I’m glad people didn’t see it that way.

And today at the Zine Expo at Colombia College, I got a chance to talk to even more people about it. It was a wonderful day – the time went by so quickly and there was a steady flow of people from start to finish.  Never a dull moment, really. I kept waiting for a break in traffic to leave my table, but it was crowded all day.  I really like being surrounded by so many people who appreciate what I do, seeing old friends and meeting new people. I always feel like a bit of an outsider, even in that circle, because I’m not queer, anarchist, vegan or have any strong political leanings whatsoever. It seems that being one or all of those things and having a zine go hand in hand. I have always believed that of making a zine is a political act, regardless of the content. But taking in the scene of choppy haircuts, mismatched raggedy clothing, fabric patches (and quite honestly, the smell of dirty bodies) I definitely felt a bit out of place. I guess I just don’t fit in anywhere. Oh, the angst!  But seriously, it was a great day, and now I’m glad to be at home in comfy clothes, sushi on the way and a kitty in my lap. I may go out later (there is a Zine Fest after-party at some old ballroom in Logan Square) but if I end up staying in, that’s just as well. The Man is out delivering barbecue, so when he gets home, we’ll see what’s going on.

Reading from Indigo #17 at Quimby’s

Well, it’s official – I am doing a reading from Indigo #17 live at Quimby’s Bookstore as part of the Chicago Zine Fest!

Date: Friday March 12th

Time: 7:00 pm

Place: 1854 W. North Ave

You can check out the rest of the lineup here. Exciting times!!

Listening to: Antony & The Johnstons, I Am A Bird Now

Reading: Getting Things Done by David Allen