What Not To Do

World: I did a dumb thing.

A week and a half ago, I tripped over my stupid (, stupid) shoes and landed flat and resoundingly. Most of me – and my electronics, which are not self-healing – survived bruise-free, but my lovely new thermal Kleen Kanteen, made of strong, durable stainless steel, cracked a rib.

You can’t do anything for a cracked rib but dope up on Advil and moan a lot to everyone, so I’ve been assiduously taking that path.

But here’s the other dumb thing I did this week (“other,” ha, would that it was the only, amiright): I ran the Brooklyn Half yesterday because I’ve been excited for weeks and by george I wasn’t going to not get that finisher’s medal to add to my slowly growing collection.

So I’m here to tell you this: you can run a half marathon with a cracked rib, but you’ll probably have to walk a bunch and stop at the med tent for Tylenol.

2:09. My slowest half to date, but all I could think as I jogged down Ocean Parkway to the Coney Island Boardwalk was “this week, finishing is the victory.”

Here Is What I Have Been Up To

Among other things:

  • Writing this and co-writing this.
  • Finishing the spring semester.
  • Working madly on my MFA thesis, due June 3.
  • Getting ready to move, again (if we find an apartment, that is).
  • Starting my summer courses.
  • Celebrating these fine graduates (and others). Some of them were in my first class as a part-time college writing instructor, years ago. You can spot me if you’re eagle-eyed:

Media, Culture, and the Arts – class of 2013

The Lamp

I write in order to comprehend not to express myself
I don’t grasp anything I’m not ashamed to admit it
sharing this not knowing with a maple leaf
So I turn with questions to words wiser than myself
to things that will endure long after us
I wait to gain wisdom from chance
I expect sense from silence
Perhaps something suddenly will happen
and pulse with hidden truth
like the spirit of the flame in the oil lamp
under which we bowed our heads
when we were very young
and grandma crossed the bread with a knife
and we believed in everything
So now I yearn for nothing as much
as for that faith

Anna Kamienska

Baked Brie

Yesterday, mid-afternoon, I received a plaintive plea from a student who will go unnamed, via email, wondering if I was maybe considering bringing baked brie to the potluck last night.

The King’s College, where I teach, is full of wonderfully enterprising students who invent reasons and ways for students and faculty to interact outside the classroom, and one of those ways is a series of potlucks where a faculty member (or two) is invited, everyone brings food, and we sit down and chat about whatever we want to chat about. Last night was my turn.

What I’d forgotten was that I had a conversation with another student last Christmas at a gathering about baked brie, and how much I love it. Tell an undergrad—especially a male one—about baked brie, and he will remember it and spread word, and it will be a hot topic four months later.

Luckily, I was right next to a grocery story. So yes, I said: I’ll bring stuff for baked brie.

It takes about two seconds to make and is delicious. Here’s what I did (mostly adapted from Simply Recipes):

– You need a round of brie, a can of crescent roll dough, some jam, some maple syrup, and some dark brown sugar. (I suspect the last three ingredients are optional, and could be changed up; a student told me her family does a savory version, which sounds amazing.)

– Preheat oven to 350.

– Unroll the crescent roll dough onto a cookie sheet (which should probably be greased, though I didn’t do that) and fold it over once so the seams don’t let everything leak out.

– Spread jam on the dough, and set the brie on top.

– Drizzle some maple syrup on the cheese and dump a little brown sugar on top, probably the equivalent of a few tablespoons.

– Fold up the edges of the crescent roll dough so it’s like a little present (a delicious little present) and pop it all in the oven.

– Bake for 25 minutes. When it’s done, spread it on little baguettes or crackers or whatever you want, your fingers probably will work, too.

– Serve to a whole mess of hungry undergrads and enjoy the chorus of mmmmms.

Around the Web

Now that I’m starting to near (Lord willing and the creek don’t rise) the end of my M.F.A. program, I’m beginning to publish again–and last week was awfully busy.

Here’s the links: