Thursday, August 30, 2007


I am clearly the surliest person alive. I went to a “rock” concert the other night (ok, well,it was Crowded House so do you call that rock? Because they did, indeed rock but I feel like rock is kind of more like…you know, ROCK! Like Warrant or something…no, I am totally kidding…or am i?) annnnnyway, Crowded House, at the Greek, live. Lovely. They sounded wonderful, I liked Pete Yorn, who was one of the openers, I didn’t hear Liam Finn, who was the other opener, except for a moment and that sounded a little trippy for me but…I am wandering here…surly, right.

So, I am sitting in my seat, quietly appreciating the music. See, I paid money to hear Crowded House, not the sort of freaky dude in front of me carrying on a conversation with Crowded House, because he totally was. Every time Neil Finn would say something this dude had and answer. And his girlfriend, man she could clap loud…but not on beat. And that other girl, the one to the left who kind of danced like she was having a spasm, totally needed to stop. And that OTHER guy, the one who was gonna take out someone’s eye with his flailing arms…yeesh.

All that would make you think I didn’t enjoy the show. But I did. A lot. But all those people need to stop talking and dancing and chatting on their cell phones and PAY ATTENTION! And get the hell off my lawn. And stop making that damn racket! And…man I am surly.


I had a cupcake jones the other night which resulted in vegan chocolate cupcakes with chocolate velvet (vegan) icing. I thought they were ok. Jason thought they were gooooood. But he thinks everything is goooooood. My problems probably more had to do with ingredients than anything else. I didn’t have any baker’s sugar, which is what I like to use for this kind of icing. In fact, the only sugar I had was super hippie, coarse washed crystals of love or something. Organic dried cane juice nuggets. Whatever. It’s just sugar but it is extremely coarse, kind of kosher salt coarse. And it has a lot of the molasses flavor still. But a cupcake jones will not be denied and I forged ahead. Then I realized that I didn’t actually have any vanilla. I only had vanilla flavor, which was a shopping error, so don’t yell at me for not using real vanilla. I normally would but I apparently picked up the wrong bottle. So I used some of that and made the up the rest with REAL ORGANIC chocolate extract. Damn hippie. Oh, and then when I made the custard that is the base of the icing…and it’s a really lovely icing, I cooked it too fast so I added a little soy creamer to try and slow it down a little and I think that may have given the icing a little too much of the hippie overtones. But you know, overall, totally edible. Pleasant and if you are not me, you probably wouldn’t notice the problems I had with them.

The icing is…hmmm, well I don’t actually know the non-vegan equivalent. It’s not a cooked butter cream, which I love the flavor of but hate making. But it’s not a straight up quick butter cream because you add this custard element to it for creaminess and stabilization.

I made a really delicious cooked butter cream once, Swiss butter cream, I think they call it. It was going to be the icing for a bridal shower cake for Donovan’s Mama (yes, she has a real name but I don’t know if she wants me to use it and since Donovan has his own blog where he details all her parenting mistakes…well, you get the picture). I say this icing WAS GOING TO because, well, if you’ve ever made a cooked butter cream, it’s…not exactly complicated but it is kind of involved, you need to cook it and there’s hot sugar and your whipping things so they don’t curdle and whatever, but at some point you need to use a candy thermometer to make sure the sugar is the proper temperature. I am not fond of candy thermometers. I don’t really know why though. I mean, when I make candy I usually use the “put a drop in water and see what stage it’s at” method (what do they call that, you know? When the sugar makes a soft ball or a hard ball or a ribbon or it cracks…I don’t know…) but this time, because the recipe called for it, I used a candy thermometer.

The icing was lovely, fluffy and white and just gorgeous. And it tasted nice. Well, it did until I realized that a huge chunk of glass was missing from my candy thermometer. Uh-oh. I thought really hard about this. I hadn’t heard anything grinding in the mixer, I had tasted the icing and it seemed fine…I could just ice the cake; no one would have to know…unless they all started choking and bleeding all over my friend’s wedding shower.

I made a second batch of icing.


Guilty Pleasures
Watching portions of the same movies over and over again on cable
British tabloid websites
Emo-y and drone music
Wet ‘n’ Wild eyeliner
Oreos with peanut butter
distaste for the pop culture phenomena of my youth
scratchy, nearly illegible fonts
The Spice Girls
blank note books

What about you?

Friday, August 24, 2007


Tired, tired, tired. I don’t what is going on in here but man I am tired! Sleeping has gotten difficult due to…whatever and I just can’t seem to catch up. But I figured a tired mind turns out some weird stuff so I thought I’d see what dropped out of my brain today…

Well, first I would like to share my three favorite breakfasts with you. Why, you ask? Because I already told you, I AM TIRED and my brain is funny. And this morning I had one of my favorites and I thought it was funny (remember…tired) and the other day I was reading a blog that listed the some of the blogger’s breakfasts and…whatever…here…

My standby breakfast is Nature’s Path Flax Plus organic cereal with fresh blueberries and soy milk. I can hear you sobbing right now but seriously, this stuff is good. It doesn’t taste like cardboard and unlike certain other healthy cereals it doesn’t contain anything referred to as “twigs” (I’m looking at you, Kashi!). Although, to be honest, I had never noticed that my Kashi contained twigs until my mother pointed out and told me that it was just too…healthy tasting for her. When I don’t have blueberries, I sometimes add raisins or I just buy the raisin bran version. And it was actually Donovan’s Mama that got me eating this cereal, even though she wouldn’t eat it herself. Added bonus, well…sort of a bonus…um…let’s just say, I may not be normal but I am totally regular. Sorry, couldn’t help myself there. Also, Nature’s Path makes what we call in our house “Hippie Pop Tarts”. I will on occasion buy their toaster pastries and I really like them. So much so that now when faced with an actual Pop Tart…not interested. And I see they also have some kind of Pumpkin Raisin Flax Crunch thing going on…gotta find that. Wait…what? Fig and Flax waffles? Dude. Oh and if you totally have a pie fix but you think you are all kinds of healthy and don’t want to make a pie but also cannot imagine doing the McDonald’s drive thu kind of pie, this same company makes something called Pie-Oh-my! I think the name says it all.

You thought I had lost my train of thought here, didn’t you? You thought that I forgot that I was naming my three favorite breakfasts and had just gone on a rant about hippie food, Didn’t you? Nope, I remember. Second favorite breakfast is whole-wheat couscous made with soymilk and mixed with dried fruits, nuts and cinnamon. It’s great hot and it’s good cold and I can make a big container and it will last a few days. It’s a nice alternative to oatmeal, which I like but will rarely make, and you can do just about anything you want to it. If you stick with the whole-wheat couscous you are getting some fiber. And with the soymilk and nuts you’ve got your protein. It’s very filling and comforting and OH SO EASY!

Third favorite is what I had for breakfast this morning. Well, sort of. What I had this morning was a toasted English muffin, covered with I.M. Healthy brand CHOCOLATE soy nut butter and topped with blueberries. And it was good, but what I really like is when have some fresh from the farmer’s market whole-wheat pita. The kind that doesn’t even have a pocket. That’s good stuff.

Finally, my fourth favorite breakfast is one I only get when I am on vacation despite the fact that I actually OWN the necessary tools to make MICKEY WAFFLES. Somehow they just taste better in Disneyworld. And in just a few weeks, I will be indulging in them daily. Maybe by then I will be less tired….maybe not.

So, why blog about breakfast? Well, it is the most important meal of the day. But mostly because I am still tired and it entertained me.

Honestly, breakfast has always been a difficult meal for me. I don’t like mornings much and eating in the morning just isn’t my thing. So when I dedicated myself to a regular breakfast, I knew it would be a struggle. Turns out, if you like what you are eating, it’s a lot easier. Some of that came to me when I discovered that soymilk didn’t upset my stomach. (Before that I was eating my granola covered in grapefruit juice, which makes most people cringe when I mention it). And I understood it even better when I found a cereal that I actually LIKED that wasn’t full of junk. Even more when I found things I could eat in the car that wouldn’t cause accidents. Once I figured all that out, everything else became a lot easier. Hunh, it only took me…almost forty years. So, I’m a slow learner.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007


I was just reading Santo’s instructions on making petit fours (so pretty). She talks about the teas she attended at her school as a child. This made me think of the teas at my college. Well, it made me remember the fact that there were NO teas at my college. No charming ladies dressed in lawn tea gowns and white gloves, passing antique china cups across the President of the college’s living room. Did you have teas at your college? See, here’s the thing. Just before I went away to my tiny southern college, I fell in love with a dress. It was, for those who know about such things, a Jessica McClintock dress and at the time that meant demure, lacy and fluffy. I see that now Jessica McClintock doesn’t mean quite the same thing but that is beside the point. The point is that I fell in love with a pretty, lacy, Little House on the Prairie meets sort of Victorian Day dress. I mean you would actually have to call this something like a day dress as it was not a gown but was something totally different. It even had a little bustle. It was blue. With flowers. And it was nothing like anything else I owned. It was, in fact, nothing like anything I would ever wear. But I loved it nonetheless. It was beautiful and I wanted it.

It was also expensive. In retrospect, what I considered “expensive” was probably something like $70 or $80. You can barely buy a pair of pants for that these days…maybe a pant, one half of a pair of pants. But certainly not a little house on the Prairie meets sort of Victorian Day dress. I was torn. What would I ever do with a thing of such beauty to warrant it’s massive price tag?

Enter Mom. My mom is a marvel. She is kind and generous and lovely and beautiful and everything a mom should be. And she is an Olympic level shopper. She can shop like…a mutha. It’s amazing. If she leaves the house for more than twenty minutes you can rest assured that she will come back with bags of something. Art, jewelry, groceries, books. Anything. She is such a good shopper that I can guarantee you that today, right now, August whatever, she already has all of her Christmas presents for this year purchased. She may even have some wrapped. And there is also a very good chance that she has several purchased for next year as well.

I am not like my mom. Well, most of the time I am not like my mom. I have my spurts of shopping but in general, I am a think about it shopper. I tend to mull a purchase over in my mind for days…weeks…years. And I firmly believe that if the item is no longer available when I go back then it was never meant to be. I also have a similar theory involving price tags. If the item doesn’t ring up, it’s not for me. It’s a cheap theory but it has saved me tons of money over the years.

So back to the pretty, lacy, Little house on the Prairie meets sort of Victorian day dress, I wanted it but there was no way that I could justify it. I was a jeans and tee shirt kind of girl. In fact, my freshman year of college involved pretty much jeans, tee shirts, a Baja hoodie and no shoes. Dirty hippies do not way day dresses and there is just no way around it. And no way I would spend or ask my mother to spend so much money on such a frivolous item. But I felt compelled to show the dress to my mom.

She was, naturarlly, enchanted. I think she would have been enchanted by pretty much any outfit that did not involve a Hoodoo Gurus tee shirt and a pair of my brother’s boxer shorts layered over long johns. She would have loved anything that required me to wear shoes. And hose. And comb my hair. She offered to buy the beautiful dress. And still I hesitated. What would I ever do with it?

It was then that my mother asserted that I would need the dress for the tea parties at the President of the College’s house. Surely his wife would host such gatherings. And I could wear it to the fall cotillion. Or maybe the homecoming dance. It was even appropriate for the Christmas service. I would get so much wear out of the day dress that it would be worth every penny.

I don’t really need to tell you that I was never invited to a tea at the president’s house, do I? I did watch old kung-fu films with him a few times but I would have been incredibly overdressed if I wore the Jessica McClintock. I don’t think we had a fall cotillion but I did go to a freshman dance in my hand painted overalls. I’m pretty sure that I didn’t wear shoes or hose with them though. I know we must have had a homecoming dance but I suspect that I was out drinking during that and would have ruined a day dress running around the President’s rose garden with a bottle of Boone’s Farm. I also strongly suspect that there was some sort of Christmas service and that I may have even gone to it. But I doubt any of us dressed for it. In fact, my shoes of choice, when I did finally put shoes on, were duck boots.

Sorry, Mom. No petit fours for me. No wafer thin china and no white gloves. I still have the dress though. I will never wear it again. It’s outrageously out of style and…well, not all that lovely when I look at it now, but it’s still there. I think I will probably keep it forever, just to remember all those teas I didn’t go to.

See, once again, it all ties up in a pretty bow. Santos makes petit fours and I remember that I never got any.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007


Ah, you people forget. It’s not about having a lot of free time to draw diagrams, it’s about having been a textbook illustrator for near ten years and being able to whip out a chart, diagram or map at a moments notice!

But I am glad that most people seemed to like my prom story and the diagramming thereof. I guess I should do more charting and such. Maybe a flow chart on the intricacies of a college theater department and why I did not become an actress? Nah, that bores even me. And no, sorry MamaMin. No photos of my prom, you’ll have to settle for the written horrors of it all. I wouldn’t even know where to look for those pictures. Although I was reminded by the BFF that the girls all took pictures together so that we had alternatives to just the ones with the ill-fated dates in them. And at least one girl put smiley face stickers over her date’s head (the girl with flowers over her nipples, in fact).

And now, instead of content:

What I am reading: Now that I have finally settled down from comic-con, I am starting to read all the comics I bought or traded for. Right now, sitting next to me, “Breeding Season” by Tammy Stellanova. Tammy had the table next to ours and I have to say she was utterly charming. She is…well, I want to say she is primarily a nature illustrator but that’s not exactly true, she is primarily a very cool girl who happens to like to do classic nature illustrations but she’s got a very nice clean style and a sort of modern flair to it all. She also makes her art into lovely jewelry. I am kind of stuck on the bee myself and I will probably break down and buy it soon.

Also in the pile, the new Snakepit collection My Life in a Jugular Vein by Ben Snakepit. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I don’t know what draws me to his stuff but I can’t stop reading it. Heck, he does a strip a day, gotta admire that!

The new Tank Girl is staring at me. I am not sure how to feel about it yet and I am kind of putting off reading it. I love the original Tank Girl stuff and I love Jamie Hewlett’s art. This is Ashley Wood and I love his art too but…I don’t know. I’ll reserve judgment until I read it I guess.

There are currently half read books strewn throughout the apartment. Now that I feel like I am getting things together I intend to finish off Devil in the White City, which is just amazing. But then…Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows arrived today so… (OK, so I wrote this last week and I have since received Harry Potter and started reading it and to make this aside even more aside I will just mention that I have NEVER read a HP book immediately after release but rather when I was free. I am enjoying it but I only feel pressed to read it RIGHT NOW because people in my office have demanded that I do so. They would like to talk about it. Eh, whatever. EDIT EDIT: I have been reading it at night in little snatches and I am half way through. I’ll talk about it with you sometime next week if you want to discuss it.)

What I am listening to: This morning it was The Good---WAIT, I’ve got to do a different category here for a second as I just finished my lunch---

WHAT I AM EATING- Holy moly! I just had lunch and it was really, really good! I had the “Tuna Lunch with Mediterranean vinaigrette” from Trader Joe’s, some whole grain crackers and a few figs drizzled with honey. Maybe I was just hungry but I highly recommend this as a tasty meal!

Ok, now where was I?

What I am listening to: This morning it was The Good, The Bad and The Queen. I am having a little bit of a hard time getting this because…it’s Damon Albarn. And I like him, quite a lot in fact, but…this seems like… Damon Albarn, a lot like Blur and a lot like the Gorillaz. I think the problem I may be having is that his voice is just so distinctive that it always just seems like…Damon Damon Albarn. It’s certainly not that I am not enjoying it. It’s just a little odd. I also just recently bought an Air cd. Talkie Walkie, in fact. I have heard Air on the radio but never owned any, unless maybe I have some on a soundtrack somewhere. I look forward to listening to this all the way through (EDIT: I listened to the Air cd and I liked it well enough. It’s not good driving music though). Still on a bit of a Joe Strummer kick too, so there’s a lot of that thrown in as well. (EDIT: And Radiohead. Someone put me on a Radiohead kick and there I am. OH and Brian Setzer. Town without Pity over and over again. Sigh. Dreamy.)

(I don't know which is prettier, Brian or his guitar.)

What I am watching: Lately there has not been a ton of TV watching time, but now I have to clean up the DVR a bit so I’ve been catching up on Burn Notice which I am enjoying (puh-leeze, you could make Jeffery Donovan and Bruce Campbell clean bathrooms and I’d watch it!). I’m also a little behind on John from Cincinnati, it’s pretty impenetrable but damn if I don’t like the rhythms of a David Milch show, so I am hanging in there for the end of the season. Finally caught up on Big Love and wow…that show is making some pretty dark turns at the moment. A little concerned that they are, pardon the expression, blowing their wad on all the lies here as it all seems to be happening at once, but of course, that’s what TV is all about, telling a story that keeps one intrigued, no? Still trying to catch up on Doctor Who and Torchwood and a few other British shows that I may have kind of found online. OH! I do have that final episode of Hex to watch too! Damn, forgot about that. And it’s all about the end of the world too! (EDIT; Yeah, again, wrote this a while ago, finally finished watching Hex and…eh. One of the least satisfying ends of the world ever. BOOOOO!)

What I am eagerly awaiting: Weeds. I just love that show. No real idea why. The story telling can be a little uneven but the acting is all a blast, although Mary whatshername really needs to open her eyes all the way SOMETIME.
EDIT: Damn, I am slow in posting. I must have written this like a week or so ago. I have now watched the season premiere of Weeds and it made me laugh. Mission accomplished.

Also looking forward to watching Jekyll. I’ve got the first two episodes waiting. That James Nesbitt is a fine actor. In the past few years I have really been into “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” adaptations for no real reason. I read the original novella and watched (whisper this part) Mary Reilly and then all these different versions of the story started appearing and for no apparent reason, I watched them all. It’s an odd and fascinating story to me

Who I am crushing on: Dude, this is like the silliest thing ever. Why do I continue to expose myself like this? Well, mostly in hopes that Mike Rowe, Andrew Zimmern or Tim McInnerny will read it and decide that they love me. I am doubting that will happen but I will spread the love anyway. If you don’t already watch Dirty Jobs, please do. It’s awful and disgusting and perfect. I have had my share of dirty jobs but nothing like the jobs Mike Rowe tests out, and always with a beaming smile and some bad jokes. If there is one thing I find truly attractive in people it is this sensibility of “I may not love this but I am going to try it and see and then I am going to politely freak out”. Andrew Zimmern is also excellent at this ploy. Bizarre Foods is great fun and while he seems completely game to try anything at all, I love it best when he can’t quite choke down the stinky tofu or when there is an glimpse of honest fear in his eyes as he is presented with the cobra he is going to eat…before it has been slaughtered. Both these guys come across as so good-natured and genial in almost every situation and that makes them so terribly crushworthy in my book.

And Tim McInnerny? Well! The announcement has come down that he will be appearing in Doctor Who next season and said announcement proved overwhelming for me. I literally squealed with joy when I read it. CAPTAIN DARLING! (That may be too geeky a reference for some of you but if you know what I am talking about, and then you know why I love him).

Tuesday, August 14, 2007


There is one thing about high school that has always stuck with me. It’s like my one good story about school and it actually requires some diagrams. And it’s about the prom. Who doesn’t love a good prom story? Well, besides you, I mean. And who doesn’t love a good diagram? LOOK, these are rhetorical questions, jeez!

So, I went to the junior prom with a good friend. We dressed nicely, and appropriately, I might add, which was apparently very unexpected. People thought we might come in…well, I don’t know what. But I had a lovely pink and white gown and he had a sharp grey tuxedo. And although I don’t think that “Fairytale Lover” was the most appropriate theme for a prom we had a nice enough time at the Nights of Columbus hall anyway. It was the classic high school prom experience minus the backseat fumbling and unplanned pregnancy. (Never mind that less than five years later I would get so mind-blowingly drunk on amaretto sours in that same Nights of Columbus Hall that I would require the services of my best friend to keep my bridesmaid gown out of the way while I vomited. Sorry, different story.)

The senior prom though, that was different. And I may be wrong here but I am pretty sure that in my school, the junior and senior prom was the same thing, what you called it only depended on whether you were a junior or a senior. I was a senior. My boyfriend at the time had graduated the year before. I wanted to go to my senior prom…for whatever reason that I cannot now imagine and he didn’t want to accompany me for what I now assume were very good reasons but at the time it just seemed mean. I figured I would find someone else but late in the game he surprised me. He actually slyly handed me the receipt for his tuxedo one evening when I was complaining because he wouldn’t go with, which I thought was cute and charming and romantic until I discovered he had rented a white dinner jacket instead of a plain black tuxedo. Ew.

Anyway, things between us had been rocky to begin with, we had broken up and gotten back together and in the meanwhile, I had found out that he had “dated” a “friend” of mine (feel free to qualify those quotes in whatever manner you choose). But I was bound and determined to go to the prom and since they wouldn’t sell me a single ticket or let me go with another girl, I went with him. Problem was, I really wanted to go with another boy, one who I was friendly with but hey, I was dating someone (someone who was a jerk, true, but I am not a jerk, so…you know). And to make matters even more complicated, he (that is, the boy I would have liked to go to the prom with) ended up asking my best friend to go with him as they had been friends for years. That was fine. I certainly would never begrudge her his company and if he wasn’t going with me, then he better darn well go with her. Fine, that’s two couples taken care of.

Meanwhile, another close friend of ours was dating a boy of whom her parents didn’t approve. This was largely due to the fact that his skin was a slightly different color than hers. We all thought this was ridiculous so we helped her spin an elaborate web of lies. She took her slightly younger cousin to the prom. Her slightly younger cousin who in fact, was the ex-boyfriend of my best friend. And who was greatly admired by yet another girl we knew, who upon learning of the cousins going to the prom together, panicked and accepted the invitation of a boy that she had no interest in but who was deeply in love with her.

But wait, there’s more. The girl who took her cousin to the prom convinced her best friend to then attend the prom with her unapproved of boyfriend of the slightly different skin color, which the best friend did because she kind of had a crush on him and to make matters even more interesting, the slightly younger cousin who had briefly dated MY best friend still had a thing for her, his ex. ARE YOU FOLLOWING THIS? Because I am so lost! This is where the diagram comes in handy. You’ll notice that I took great pains in coloring the circles representing all the players in my little drama because yes, I did wear a red dress with black polka dots and a giant bow in my hair. Dude, it was 1987, it was very stylish. The only colors not actually representative of a gowns is the orange because I can’t remember what colors she wore, but I do remember what colors they WERE, and you will notice that the unapproved of boyfriend is represented by a slightly different color. I also do not remember what color the “friend” who “dated” my boyfiend (heh, that was a Freudian typo so I left it) so I just made it the ugliest color I could because she deserved it.

Finally, if I am not mistaken, the prom theme that year was “The Best Was Yet to Come” by Bryan Adams which made no sense at all. I do recall that there was some argument over the prom song/theme. The party crew was pulling hard for “Shama Lama Ding Dong” which you may remember from the movie Animal House and much like the ban on selling single tickets or pairs to same sex party goers, the school put the kibosh on that as well. (Sorry, I’ve always wanted to type out “put the kibosh on” for some reason).

That is my senior prom story and probably goes a long way towards explaining why I have very few sentimental feelings about high school, much less anything else. And this, this is the point where my BFF chimes in and reminds me that the best part of the senior prom was the ladies room, which was decorated like some kind of tropical bordello complete with a huge wicker peacock chair for the madam. She would also want me to tell you that most of the girls posed for pictures in the ladies room, trying to make it look like the best little whorehouse in New Jersey because yes, the senior prom WAS just that boring.

Monday, August 13, 2007


First of all, if you read my “No comment” post and thought that they were comments I declined leaving on your blog…you were wrong. They were are comments for blogs of people that I am pretty darn sure don’t come around these here parts…the backwoods of the blogosphere. The comments I didn’t make on your blog? Those were all nice comments. Because I also fear making nice, sweet comments and being mistaken for a weirdo. It’s a lose/lose situation. What can I say?

For lunch I had a “spicy bean burger” in a pita, with tomato and lettuce and…black cherry jam. Weird, I know, but it was really, really good. I don’t know what exactly made me think it would be good except that I was kind of taking “spicy” to literally and thought something sweet might cut the spice a little. Turns out the “spicy” was more a suggestion but it all worked out in the end. I am quite sure I am not the first to do this. In fact, I know that a local restaurant offers a burger with peanut butter and jelly, which I have never tried, but have thought about. Anyway, if you are feeling adventurous, I recommend it.

Oh, and you know what else has been tasty lately? Fruit. I am not typically a big fruit eater (that sounds like something you get called on the playground “FRUIT EATER! FRUIT EATER!”). I like fruit, quite a lot, in fact, but I have always been more of a veggie girl. And I also don’t much care for fruit that has been sweetened, like, in a cake or something. I like it plain. But the other day for no reason at all, I sprinkled some coarse, organic, washed cane sugar on a peach. It was good. The little bit of crunch was lovely and it was only a very little bit of sugar so it was less about the sweet and more about the crunch. Don’t let it sit and break down. Sprinkle the sugar just before you eat it. Same thing when you drizzle figs with honey. East ASAP or else they just make a sickly sweet sauce out of the sugar/honey and the fruit juices.

Um…so, that’s all. Just…ate lunch and it was good so I thought I’d tell you.

Friday, August 10, 2007

No comment.

Lately, I find myself having trouble commenting on blogs. Not technical trouble. It’s just that I think I have something to say, I open the comment window, type in all my personal data, begin to comment and then think, “Is what I am saying here unpleasant? Is this a poorly formed thought or even worse, a poorly formed sentence? Should I just keep this to myself?” and then I close the window and move away from whatever blog I am reading as quickly as possible. I don’t really know why. That’s what comments are for, right? Stating your opinion in the worst way possible? Embarrassing yourself but only if someone else bothers to read the comments. But I always worry that I will offend the person to whom the comment is directed, even if I am not particularly trying to offend. Because, let’s face it, sometimes I am.

So, with all this in mind, here are a few of my unsent comments:

“Thank you for saying that about previous poets laureate. I have wanted to make that same observation but fear beatings from honest New England and Mid West farmers of the type glorified in their poetry.”

“Dude, I could have told you never to good “giant woman” or any variant there of. NEVER!”

“Please, please, please find a new avatar. That one is just freaky”

“I love figs too! Lately, I’ve been eating them just drizzled with honey…but…you are a vegan…gosh, I hope that wasn’t offensive. It’s not that I don’t feel for the bees, it’s just that…I…really like honey…but…but…”

“I love cupcakes.”

“Please don’t ever do this again. Ever. Thank you.”

“I think you saw everything I did not see at comic-con, including all the things I never wanted to see. And yet…you took pictures.”

“I hate to sound preachy or anything but in this post you totally come across as a total dickhead.”

This is why tend not to leave comments at all.

Thursday, August 09, 2007


Well, I knew it would happen. It had to happen. But I still kind of wasn’t expecting it. So when the email came, I was a little shocked. Twenty years. And in some ways it doesn’t feel like twenty years at all and in other ways it feels like a thousand. But in 1987, I couldn’t imagine what my twenty year class reunion would be like and now, in 2007, I still can’t imagine it.

The fact of the matter is I have absolutely no interest in going. None. Ok, I do have some slight interest in sitting in the bar across the road from the hall in which the reunion will be taking place and watching people. I have a little interest in finding two people that I haven’t seen in years. But that’s pretty much it. And I strongly suspect that at least one of those two people has as little interest in being at the reunion as I do and thus, going to see her would be a waste since she’d probably not go either.

I didn’t have a particularly bad high school experience. There was no pig’s blood at my prom. There was no name-calling and no mean girls…unless…wait, was I the mean girl? No, no, I was the “flying under the radar” girl. Because, frankly, I didn’t really care. High school was not the highlight of my life but it wasn’t the worst time of my life either. It was just …there. I don’t look upon it fondly but I also have no desire to burn down the school. Although…I gotta say, there is some sort of temptation to walk in to the cheezy catering hall, walk up to a random member of the class of ’87, cold cock them and say “You know why” and walk out. But really, who doesn’t have that fantasy?

EDIT: Ha! Now I have read no less than three different things referencing high school reunions. I can only assume that this is the time of the year when the invitations go out and people begin scurrying around, trying to lose weight, get a new “cool” job and find a husband who is ten years younger and HAWT!

Tuesday, August 07, 2007


HA! I totally neglected to mention one other person that I finally got to meet at comic-con. I completed my Palmer collection and met the illustrious and lovely Mrs. P. Now, I have a slightly odd relationship to the Palmer collective. They are all close to other members of my family and I kind of knew them by proxy, hearing tales of the Palmerlings and Mr. and Mrs. P but never really meeting them. Strangest of all was the day that my brother asked me if I had a blog. Turns out Mr. P had run across it and mentioned that he had been reading it. So the long distance not knowingness just got stranger and stranger. All that got turned upside down a year or so ago when I had a lovely dinner with the Mister. Then on the great cross-country trek of aught six, I had a pleasant run in with the Mister and the Palmerlings but the Missus was poorly and I didn’t get the chance to meet her. Now I can finally call my collection complete as I have finally seen the whole shebang in one place at one time and it was lovely. I have faces to put with names and all is well.

The P’s had asked for some advice on what to see and where to eat in L.A. and I offered a few of my favorite things. I don’t know yet if they did any of them but when YOU visit L.A. I do recommend that you:

Stop at an In-n-Out, a Poquito Mås and Four n’ 20 for, burgers, tacos and pies respectively. Personally, I am not much of a burger person but I do like the In n’ Out burger and I LOVE their fresh, hand cut fries. It’s a once in a while treat for sure but if you are gonna bother to eat fries (and you know I am) then I say go for the super fresh ones! And while Poquito Mas may not be the ultimate taco or even traditional tacos, I really like them and their philosophy. Everything is fresh and prepared to order, it’s fairly cheap and it’s tasty. Sometimes when you are traveling you don’t have time to find that perfect little neighborhood joint, and costs need to stay reasonable. A baja style taco stand does the trick for me. Now Four n’ 20 IS that little neighborhood place and they make a darn fine pie. Nuff said.

As far as what to see, I recommended the George M. Page Museum, which is also known as the Tar Pits museum. It’s very small but I think it is exceptionally well curated and pleasant. It’s good for little kids, well; at least the kids I know have seemed to enjoy it. But my dad, who has a little bit of a hard time getting around, found it pleasant too. Plenty of room to move, places to sit and ponder, a lovely little garden. High marks all around from me.

Speaking of my dad, I took him and my mom to the Autrey Museum of the American West once when they came to visit. We all agreed it was one of the best museums we had ever seen and people, my mom has been to a LOT of museums. What really got me about the Autrey is that I just don’t really have much interest in guns or cowboys or western heritage but the museum kept me fascinated for hours. Good stuff.

Another thing I like but am not that into is cars. I mean, I like cars, I like to drive. I’d love to drive a performance car, or a race car or…I like cars. But I am not obsessive about them. So when we went to visit the Peterson Automotive Museum I was pretty “eh” on the whole thing. Turns out, it’s pretty darn nice.

I know have pimped all these places before but I guess it always is worth repeating when you think you’ve got some good tips. Next time you are in L.A…well, do what ever you want, but if you are not sure what it is you want, maybe try these out. And if you have tips of your own, by all means, comment away!

Monday, August 06, 2007


I gotta tell ya, I think I am getting old. This comic-con? It near killed me. Only today, one week later am I starting to feel like I won’t pass out from exhaustion and I might actually make it through the day. Yeesh.

But, that said, it was…well, it was good in a lot of ways and it also made me feel like, oh heck, I ain’t NEVER doing this again! But I am sure I will. It was just the busiest con I have ever seen and I pretty much went into the building at 8:30 every morning and left at 7:15 every evening and that was it. I did have a lovely, relaxed dinner one night with a few Tired Girls but every other night featured dinner in the hotel pub or in my room. And it wore me out. But, on the up side, we did get, once again, a nice response to our stuff. And things that I really thought wouldn’t sell…did. So it was all very nice. And I got to see some bloggery friends, however briefly and meet some bloggery friend’s spouses (the pleasant and slightly overwhelmed by all the geekery, Mr. Say It, Don’t Spray It and the quite comfortable with all the geekery Mr. JustJenn, and the lovely Mrs. “Josh who no longer blogs because he is just too busy and fancy and special”) and I saw some of my favorite artists and I even purchased a few small bits of original art. So, you know, it was good. And tiring. And overwhelming. And it scared that little bug I had before I went into an adrenaline induced remission and then when I came back…BOOM! Feeling the yuk!

But now I am home and most things are packed away…ok, so they are not, but they will be. And the bug has wandered off for the moment and I finally feel like I may not keel over at any time and life goes on. I have ordered a copy of the Harry Potter book, have you heard of this thing? This Harry Potter? No? yeah, whatever, I have finally ordered my copy because everyone else I know has read it and they want to talk about it, so I’ll be doing that soon. Oh, and a book on vegan ice cream because…well, I like my ice cream but it doesn’t like me so…yeah.

Hunh, I realize that all of the above is only slightly informational and not terribly interesting AND contains no links. Go figure. Lazy me.