Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Nutella Baklava
So remember how the last blog got a gang of WEIRD searches for random things? Well this blog gets most of its search traffic from the picture I posted of Cooking Light's Nutella baklava. In fact, I just Googled it myself and was surprised to see this blog come up on the first page of search results!
Therefore, it is my duty to report to all Nutella baklava searchers that I made the Nutella baklava last week and that it was really not delicious. It was dry and excessively cinnamon'y and I ate one test piece and THREW THE REST AWAY. It hurt my heart to throw like $20 worth of ingredients into the trash, but it just was not the delicious treat I thought it would be.
Incidentally, I went looking for the actual recipe so I could be useful and link the searchers to it, but it's not on the recipe site that all the other Cooking Light recipes are on so I think you're S.O.L. I can't even just type the recipe out for you because the recycling has been taken out since then.
Sorry about that, Nutella baklava searchers.
The gist, if you're interested:
6 sheets of filo dough layered with melted butter
1/3 cup of melted Nutella drizzled on top of that
1/3 of the nut mixture sprinkled on top of that (1/2 cup hazlenuts, 1/2 cup almonds, 1/3 cup pistachios and 1/3 cup walnuts tossed with a teaspoon of cinnamon)
Repeat two more times, ending with six sheets of filo dough and butter.
Cut into squares and bake at like 350 for I think 25 minutes, or until the filo dough is light brown and crispy.
Meanwhile, boil 3/4 cup of honey, a cinnamon stick and some water (I can't remember how much though -- a tablespoon? 1/2 a cup? No idea) undisturbed until it reaches 250 degrees on a candy thermometer, then remove the cinnamon stick and pour the warm honey mixture over the filo/nut/nutella stuff when it comes out of the oven and cool on a wire rack.
Store at room temperature.
AND OH MY GOD I AM AMAZED AT HOW MUCH OF THIS I REMEMBER!
I'd advise:
* No cinnamon in the nut mixture
* Adding more water or more honey to the honey mixture because there wasn't enough of it
The end.
Therefore, it is my duty to report to all Nutella baklava searchers that I made the Nutella baklava last week and that it was really not delicious. It was dry and excessively cinnamon'y and I ate one test piece and THREW THE REST AWAY. It hurt my heart to throw like $20 worth of ingredients into the trash, but it just was not the delicious treat I thought it would be.
Incidentally, I went looking for the actual recipe so I could be useful and link the searchers to it, but it's not on the recipe site that all the other Cooking Light recipes are on so I think you're S.O.L. I can't even just type the recipe out for you because the recycling has been taken out since then.
Sorry about that, Nutella baklava searchers.
The gist, if you're interested:
6 sheets of filo dough layered with melted butter
1/3 cup of melted Nutella drizzled on top of that
1/3 of the nut mixture sprinkled on top of that (1/2 cup hazlenuts, 1/2 cup almonds, 1/3 cup pistachios and 1/3 cup walnuts tossed with a teaspoon of cinnamon)
Repeat two more times, ending with six sheets of filo dough and butter.
Cut into squares and bake at like 350 for I think 25 minutes, or until the filo dough is light brown and crispy.
Meanwhile, boil 3/4 cup of honey, a cinnamon stick and some water (I can't remember how much though -- a tablespoon? 1/2 a cup? No idea) undisturbed until it reaches 250 degrees on a candy thermometer, then remove the cinnamon stick and pour the warm honey mixture over the filo/nut/nutella stuff when it comes out of the oven and cool on a wire rack.
Store at room temperature.
AND OH MY GOD I AM AMAZED AT HOW MUCH OF THIS I REMEMBER!
I'd advise:
* No cinnamon in the nut mixture
* Adding more water or more honey to the honey mixture because there wasn't enough of it
The end.
Proof that I was not just BORN with good hair:
Okay so my friend Bree, who I've known since kindergarten, offered to look for my school picture in which I was wearing the dress my aunt sent me from Africa and DUDE, she was SPEEEEDY and THOROUGH because not only did she send me all of these:
...but she also included the notes I'd written on the back of the junior high pictures. They were cringe-worthy though so I'll save myself the horror of posting them on the internet, but they were proof that I did the right thing by throwing away my pre-teen diaries for fear that I'd die and someone would read them and think I was the lamest pre-teen on the planet. (This was before I went to see Mortified and realized that I was not the only melodramatic, angsty and in love pre-teen on the planet, but even still, I think throwing them away was a wise move.)
The specific Africa dress, it turns out, was in my kindergarten class picture...so it's the greenish one with the greenish dots...also identifiable by the word "KINDERGARTEN" written under it, duh.
Observations I'll make so you don't have to:
1. It appears I had boobs in most of these pictures. I don't think I actually did though...I think it was just tubbiness mixed with poor posture and slim fitting sweaters.
2. The all-the-way-buttoned up shirt in 2nd grade was ALWAYS paired with a matching pair of burgandy courderoys and I think also a pair of those moccasin shoes that everyone thought were gone for good but turned out not to be. Fun fact: I had those moccasin shoes in baby pink and maybe also baby blue so...they would not have been a good match for that ensemble, but that's the way we rolled back in the day -- one pair of shoes and maybe one pair of sneakers.
3. The ribbon in my hair in that same picture was a barette made by one of the moms in the tap class I took at the Santa Clara Community Center.
4. 5th grade = The most unfortunate hairstyle of my life. I looked like a boy, but at least that was the year my mom let me get my ears pierced, which made me feel like a girl again. This was also the year we went to Disneyland and I vividly remember wearing a Minnie Mouse sweatshirt ALL THE TIME...possibly also with matching Mickey Mouse earrings.
5. The sweater in the 1st grade picture was itchy.
6. I think I was wearing Flojos in the 7th grade picture. Or possibly white hurraches. Definitely floral print knit shorts though.
Now let's fast forward 20 years to today:
Straight hair! Woo hoo!
Completely Unrelated:
Okay so you've all seen Love Actually, right?
You know that scene with the redhead who has the hots for the Italian guy and then they finally, after like three years, hook up at the office holiday party and she brings him home to her place but then they're interruped by phone calls from her brother in the mental institution?
What should she have done?
A. Ignored or turned off her phone and continued the business with the hot Italian guy and tended to her brother later?
B. Or did she do the right thing by dealing with her brother and blowing off the hot Italian guy?
I ask because I was discussing this movie with my man-friend (!) last night and it turns out we have opposing views on that scene and I told him I was going to ask the internet.
Please, Internet, weigh in.
...but she also included the notes I'd written on the back of the junior high pictures. They were cringe-worthy though so I'll save myself the horror of posting them on the internet, but they were proof that I did the right thing by throwing away my pre-teen diaries for fear that I'd die and someone would read them and think I was the lamest pre-teen on the planet. (This was before I went to see Mortified and realized that I was not the only melodramatic, angsty and in love pre-teen on the planet, but even still, I think throwing them away was a wise move.)
The specific Africa dress, it turns out, was in my kindergarten class picture...so it's the greenish one with the greenish dots...also identifiable by the word "KINDERGARTEN" written under it, duh.
Observations I'll make so you don't have to:
1. It appears I had boobs in most of these pictures. I don't think I actually did though...I think it was just tubbiness mixed with poor posture and slim fitting sweaters.
2. The all-the-way-buttoned up shirt in 2nd grade was ALWAYS paired with a matching pair of burgandy courderoys and I think also a pair of those moccasin shoes that everyone thought were gone for good but turned out not to be. Fun fact: I had those moccasin shoes in baby pink and maybe also baby blue so...they would not have been a good match for that ensemble, but that's the way we rolled back in the day -- one pair of shoes and maybe one pair of sneakers.
3. The ribbon in my hair in that same picture was a barette made by one of the moms in the tap class I took at the Santa Clara Community Center.
4. 5th grade = The most unfortunate hairstyle of my life. I looked like a boy, but at least that was the year my mom let me get my ears pierced, which made me feel like a girl again. This was also the year we went to Disneyland and I vividly remember wearing a Minnie Mouse sweatshirt ALL THE TIME...possibly also with matching Mickey Mouse earrings.
5. The sweater in the 1st grade picture was itchy.
6. I think I was wearing Flojos in the 7th grade picture. Or possibly white hurraches. Definitely floral print knit shorts though.
Now let's fast forward 20 years to today:
Straight hair! Woo hoo!
Completely Unrelated:
Okay so you've all seen Love Actually, right?
You know that scene with the redhead who has the hots for the Italian guy and then they finally, after like three years, hook up at the office holiday party and she brings him home to her place but then they're interruped by phone calls from her brother in the mental institution?
What should she have done?
A. Ignored or turned off her phone and continued the business with the hot Italian guy and tended to her brother later?
B. Or did she do the right thing by dealing with her brother and blowing off the hot Italian guy?
I ask because I was discussing this movie with my man-friend (!) last night and it turns out we have opposing views on that scene and I told him I was going to ask the internet.
Please, Internet, weigh in.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
I'm having a dress altered...
...and the fitting room is very Madonna Inn-esque with a rock wall and
beautiful faux folliage.
One day when I win the lottery...
...I'm going to go to Africa and see Victoria Falls and go on a "safari" and maybe stay at my friend Dave's B&B in Cape Town too...since I'll be in the neighborhood and all...
I just spent an hour looking at tour packages and flights and this and that and now alls I need is like $20,000.
Related: I had an aunt who lived in South Africa and when she would send us presents we'd open the boxes and it would smell like what I now know is moth balls, but 7-year-old me thought that was what Africa smelled like...so even now, when I smell moth balls, my brain goes "Ooh! Africa!"
One day I'll find and scan in my first or second grade school picture because I'm totally wearing my Africa dress in it.
While we're at it, I also need like $20,000 so I can go to Antarctica.
And however much it'll cost to get my arms plastic surgeried.
And if I can do all those things and continue the happy life I'm living, then I'll have done it all.
And you can guarantee that when I go to Africa I'll be bringing the value pack of Immodium.
I just spent an hour looking at tour packages and flights and this and that and now alls I need is like $20,000.
Related: I had an aunt who lived in South Africa and when she would send us presents we'd open the boxes and it would smell like what I now know is moth balls, but 7-year-old me thought that was what Africa smelled like...so even now, when I smell moth balls, my brain goes "Ooh! Africa!"
One day I'll find and scan in my first or second grade school picture because I'm totally wearing my Africa dress in it.
While we're at it, I also need like $20,000 so I can go to Antarctica.
And however much it'll cost to get my arms plastic surgeried.
And if I can do all those things and continue the happy life I'm living, then I'll have done it all.
And you can guarantee that when I go to Africa I'll be bringing the value pack of Immodium.
I totally forgot to tell you about how I preformed a Christmas miracle!
My mother is going to read this and be horrified that I discussed poo on the internet, but she'll get over it because I PREFORMED A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE! I brought JOY to the hearts of at least two people from Sacramento!
But first, do you all know what tofu shirataki noodles are? They're like these CRAZY high fiber noodles that you buy in the tofu section and that are VERY MUCH like pasta, but you can eat a whole bag for zero Weight Watcher points. YAY for point-free pasta substitutes, but I'd advise that you not OVER eat them.
Case in point: Tofu shirataki noodles for a couple meals in a row + two donuts for breakfast = Santa finds herself with a case of what I'll call (for my mother's sake) "digestive challenges." Except it wasn't really a challenge, per se...more like a free-for-all.
So what's a Santa to do?
I'll tell you what she does:
She walks her ass into the hotel gift shop and buys a $10 box of SIX Immodium AD pills (holy markup, Parc 55 Hotel!) and washes a couple of them down with her Miller Lite.
Problem: SOLVED
(Seriously, those things are magic...except for that one time I mistakenly gave some to a friend I'll call...um...Sharrie because I thought she was having a digestive free-for-all except OOPS it turned out she was actually having a digestive challenge and I STOPPED HER UP GOOOOOOOOD. Thus, a lesson was learned about not dancing around the poo conversation -- just spill it and you won't end up mis-medicating.)
WHERE'S THE CHRISTMAS MIRACLE, Elizabeth!?!?
Okay!
So fast forward several hours and we were at Mr. Bing's hanging out with Adam, the older Chinese gentleman who offered us drinks, drugs, ladies and Chinese food, and I start talking to a wholesome, out-of-place looking gentleman at the bar. He tells me that he and his wife had just been to see Wicked and they were waiting for the charter bus to take them back to Sacramento along with the rest of the Sacramento area musical theater fans. Oh, that's nice, hope you enjoyed, it, chit chat, whatever.
AND THEN Ho Ho Lo comes out of the bathroom with a very wholesome, out-of-place looking blonde lady and she says that I had something in my purse that her new friend IS DESPERATE FOR. Huh? YOUR TEN DOLLAR PILLS! OHHHHH!
So I fished around and found them, tore a couple off and gave them to the lady who, I SWEAR TO YOU, would have named her next child after me if I'd asked.
Can you imagine THE HORROR of facing a bus ride back to Sacramento while dealing with a digestive free-for-all?? And then THE MAGIC of a girl dressed up as Santa MAGICALLY having the cure hiding in her Santa sack??
Seriously you guys, it was a CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.
But first, do you all know what tofu shirataki noodles are? They're like these CRAZY high fiber noodles that you buy in the tofu section and that are VERY MUCH like pasta, but you can eat a whole bag for zero Weight Watcher points. YAY for point-free pasta substitutes, but I'd advise that you not OVER eat them.
Case in point: Tofu shirataki noodles for a couple meals in a row + two donuts for breakfast = Santa finds herself with a case of what I'll call (for my mother's sake) "digestive challenges." Except it wasn't really a challenge, per se...more like a free-for-all.
So what's a Santa to do?
I'll tell you what she does:
She walks her ass into the hotel gift shop and buys a $10 box of SIX Immodium AD pills (holy markup, Parc 55 Hotel!) and washes a couple of them down with her Miller Lite.
Problem: SOLVED
(Seriously, those things are magic...except for that one time I mistakenly gave some to a friend I'll call...um...Sharrie because I thought she was having a digestive free-for-all except OOPS it turned out she was actually having a digestive challenge and I STOPPED HER UP GOOOOOOOOD. Thus, a lesson was learned about not dancing around the poo conversation -- just spill it and you won't end up mis-medicating.)
WHERE'S THE CHRISTMAS MIRACLE, Elizabeth!?!?
Okay!
So fast forward several hours and we were at Mr. Bing's hanging out with Adam, the older Chinese gentleman who offered us drinks, drugs, ladies and Chinese food, and I start talking to a wholesome, out-of-place looking gentleman at the bar. He tells me that he and his wife had just been to see Wicked and they were waiting for the charter bus to take them back to Sacramento along with the rest of the Sacramento area musical theater fans. Oh, that's nice, hope you enjoyed, it, chit chat, whatever.
AND THEN Ho Ho Lo comes out of the bathroom with a very wholesome, out-of-place looking blonde lady and she says that I had something in my purse that her new friend IS DESPERATE FOR. Huh? YOUR TEN DOLLAR PILLS! OHHHHH!
So I fished around and found them, tore a couple off and gave them to the lady who, I SWEAR TO YOU, would have named her next child after me if I'd asked.
Can you imagine THE HORROR of facing a bus ride back to Sacramento while dealing with a digestive free-for-all?? And then THE MAGIC of a girl dressed up as Santa MAGICALLY having the cure hiding in her Santa sack??
Seriously you guys, it was a CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
HO AGAIN!
OMG I just found a couple AWESOME pictures in the Flickr group:
This is maybe my favorite picture of me from any of the Santas I've attended.
Lauren was SO SURE she was going to get a ticket from this guy but I poo-poo'd her for worrying about it but then I saw that the photographer has another picture of a Santa who was not so lucky!
This is maybe my favorite picture of me from any of the Santas I've attended.
Lauren was SO SURE she was going to get a ticket from this guy but I poo-poo'd her for worrying about it but then I saw that the photographer has another picture of a Santa who was not so lucky!
Ho!
Okay now I'm officially ready to tell you all about Santarchy 2009.
Are you ready?
First, some background:
In Santas of yesteryear, Santa may not have been so good at regulating her alcohol intake but last year's Santa was SO MUCH FUN and Santa Lo and I agreed that OMG IT'S BECAUSE WE WERE MATURE AND RESPONSIBLE! WHAT A CONCEPT! So this year we had two rules:
1. Eat something.
2. NO HARD LIQUOR!
Rule #2 was eventually ammended to read "NO HARD LIQUOR (until we settle in at the Gold Dust for the night)!
And let me tell you all something:
If you follow the rules you still have plenty of fun, you are able to maintain your Santa glamour in all the pictures AND you wake up the next day and go "OMG THAT WAS FUN!" and you say that knowing that you actually remember the whole thing. (And "the whole thing" doesn't include Alyssa and John dragging your ass home from Oakland in the longest cab ride ever in the history of the world.)
Santa is mature now, yo.
Proof:
Santa drinks California's finest sparking wines out of reusable, Earth-friendly containers:
Santa reuses last year's fur, which staples onto last year's boots like a charm:
We discussed taking After shots to pair with these Before shots, but I'll tell ya -- these Santas kept their youthful glows throughout the evening!
Santa Ho Ho Lo:
Santa Captain Carrie:
(Note: SCC was my very first co-Santa ever and when Santas I've only known for one year question who the hell she is, we do not take well to the bitchiness and we climb out a window to avoid you. For reals.)
Santa ME:
And then because we don't like the awkward "OMG I'm sober and in a Santa outfit and now I have to walk somewhere?" beginning of Santarchy, we decided to take a load off in the hotel bar and wait until we knew where Santa's first stop would be (thanks Twitter!) and then just cab it like the too-glamorous-for-schlepping Santas that we are.
And really, three very awesome Santas enjoying their light beers in the lobby of a nice hotel are a sight to see so we can't blame tourists for wanting their pictures taken with us:
(And okay...maybe it was only the ONE tourist, but STILL...his wife told us that it took him a couple of drinks to work up the nerve to ask.)
And then it was time to depart:
As it turned out, Santa was organized in a different way this year and instead of a few large groups of multiple hundred Santas like there were last year or, as is tradition, one very large group of Santas, there were like a BAJILLION tiny contingents of Santas and it was all very scattered. As a result, we ended up at the Gold Dust THREE times that day (which wasn't really a problem because we love the GD).
Here I am with the COOLEST SANTA EVERRRRRRR, but who, sadly, was also maybe the crankiest and least happy to be there Santa ever:
That's not Photoshop, folks!
Santas Ho Ho Lo and Captain Carrie think something is funny, but I'm not sure what...I just like this picture of them:
This was the Santa who Ho Ho Lo wished was single (that toy soldier wasn't his gf):
What I think is so interesting about that whole dynamic was that he was just a regular guy...yeah, he was a cute regular guy, but I'm reasonably sure he thought HHL was kidding with her affection for him. And really, he's not the type of guy I've seen her go for in the past so I think this is a case of him just having that certain something that called HHL's name.
(Incidentally, there was a whole army of toy soldiers and they were UNAWARE that Britney Spears has a song about their people!)
My posse:
Santa's Baby Mama:
This Santa thought Carrie was the bee's knees:
She totally is, duh, but Carrie's co-Santas were not feeling him.
We escaped him and headed over to North Beach, where we heard a large number of Santas were gathering at a bikini bar...but before entering said bikini bar, let's eat pizza!
Pizza, schmizza, but please refer to rule #1: EAT SOMETHING.
The hour or so after that was a rocky one for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was because I FELL and my BARE SKIN touched the NASTY North Beach sidewalk:
It wasn't even a *good* fall -- the sidewalk was hilly and wet and my shoes were slippery and I was gingerly tiptoeing down the hill when WOOSH, I went down on one knee and it looked like I was ready to propose.
Not to worry though because Santa was there with CANDY!
But ohhhhh, Condor...the M&Ms were the last good thing that happened in your fine establishment and we ended up escaping out the window (a large window, but a window nonetheless) because we needed to EJECT EJECT EJECT!!!!!!
(I should say that nothing REALLY bad happened, but other Santas and their drama were raining on our parade so we took our party elsewhere.)
Where?
Well shoot, let's go down the street, regroup amongst ourselves and then find a new batch of Santas when we're ready.
This is Lauren regrouping:
And then we met a gentleman who offered us drinks, drugs, ladies and Chinese food in exchange for our company for the evening:
There was a time in our lives when I could see us accepting his offer because WHAT A GOOD STORY IT WOULD BE! But we're old and less stupid now so instead of possibly waking up missing a finger or two, we thanked Adam and his cohorts for the Miller Lites and wished them all well.
Fun Fact #1: Adam (the older one) owns a Chinese restaurant in Humboldt and had a GIANT bag of Humboldt County's primary export that made the air around him stink.
Fun Fact #2: Adam's cat's name is Kung Pao. "Like the chicken," he said.
And then a bunch of other Santas came to join us, including this gentleman and his prop from 1997:
And this lady standing behind Lauren who wanted to take us (or at least Lauren) back to her warehouse in Oakland:
And then eventually we moved back to the Gold Dust to finish out the night with my homie Joel, who was not Santa'fied, but who was willing to be seen in public with us:
We finished out the night with an assortment of greasy foods that were half eaten on the street while we waited for a cab and half eaten in the hotel while we watched Nancy Grace get all fired up about something or other.
Great Santa, you guys!
Are you ready?
First, some background:
In Santas of yesteryear, Santa may not have been so good at regulating her alcohol intake but last year's Santa was SO MUCH FUN and Santa Lo and I agreed that OMG IT'S BECAUSE WE WERE MATURE AND RESPONSIBLE! WHAT A CONCEPT! So this year we had two rules:
1. Eat something.
2. NO HARD LIQUOR!
Rule #2 was eventually ammended to read "NO HARD LIQUOR (until we settle in at the Gold Dust for the night)!
And let me tell you all something:
If you follow the rules you still have plenty of fun, you are able to maintain your Santa glamour in all the pictures AND you wake up the next day and go "OMG THAT WAS FUN!" and you say that knowing that you actually remember the whole thing. (And "the whole thing" doesn't include Alyssa and John dragging your ass home from Oakland in the longest cab ride ever in the history of the world.)
Santa is mature now, yo.
Proof:
Santa drinks California's finest sparking wines out of reusable, Earth-friendly containers:
Santa reuses last year's fur, which staples onto last year's boots like a charm:
We discussed taking After shots to pair with these Before shots, but I'll tell ya -- these Santas kept their youthful glows throughout the evening!
Santa Ho Ho Lo:
Santa Captain Carrie:
(Note: SCC was my very first co-Santa ever and when Santas I've only known for one year question who the hell she is, we do not take well to the bitchiness and we climb out a window to avoid you. For reals.)
Santa ME:
And then because we don't like the awkward "OMG I'm sober and in a Santa outfit and now I have to walk somewhere?" beginning of Santarchy, we decided to take a load off in the hotel bar and wait until we knew where Santa's first stop would be (thanks Twitter!) and then just cab it like the too-glamorous-for-schlepping Santas that we are.
And really, three very awesome Santas enjoying their light beers in the lobby of a nice hotel are a sight to see so we can't blame tourists for wanting their pictures taken with us:
(And okay...maybe it was only the ONE tourist, but STILL...his wife told us that it took him a couple of drinks to work up the nerve to ask.)
And then it was time to depart:
As it turned out, Santa was organized in a different way this year and instead of a few large groups of multiple hundred Santas like there were last year or, as is tradition, one very large group of Santas, there were like a BAJILLION tiny contingents of Santas and it was all very scattered. As a result, we ended up at the Gold Dust THREE times that day (which wasn't really a problem because we love the GD).
Here I am with the COOLEST SANTA EVERRRRRRR, but who, sadly, was also maybe the crankiest and least happy to be there Santa ever:
That's not Photoshop, folks!
Santas Ho Ho Lo and Captain Carrie think something is funny, but I'm not sure what...I just like this picture of them:
This was the Santa who Ho Ho Lo wished was single (that toy soldier wasn't his gf):
What I think is so interesting about that whole dynamic was that he was just a regular guy...yeah, he was a cute regular guy, but I'm reasonably sure he thought HHL was kidding with her affection for him. And really, he's not the type of guy I've seen her go for in the past so I think this is a case of him just having that certain something that called HHL's name.
(Incidentally, there was a whole army of toy soldiers and they were UNAWARE that Britney Spears has a song about their people!)
My posse:
Santa's Baby Mama:
This Santa thought Carrie was the bee's knees:
She totally is, duh, but Carrie's co-Santas were not feeling him.
We escaped him and headed over to North Beach, where we heard a large number of Santas were gathering at a bikini bar...but before entering said bikini bar, let's eat pizza!
Pizza, schmizza, but please refer to rule #1: EAT SOMETHING.
The hour or so after that was a rocky one for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was because I FELL and my BARE SKIN touched the NASTY North Beach sidewalk:
It wasn't even a *good* fall -- the sidewalk was hilly and wet and my shoes were slippery and I was gingerly tiptoeing down the hill when WOOSH, I went down on one knee and it looked like I was ready to propose.
Not to worry though because Santa was there with CANDY!
But ohhhhh, Condor...the M&Ms were the last good thing that happened in your fine establishment and we ended up escaping out the window (a large window, but a window nonetheless) because we needed to EJECT EJECT EJECT!!!!!!
(I should say that nothing REALLY bad happened, but other Santas and their drama were raining on our parade so we took our party elsewhere.)
Where?
Well shoot, let's go down the street, regroup amongst ourselves and then find a new batch of Santas when we're ready.
This is Lauren regrouping:
And then we met a gentleman who offered us drinks, drugs, ladies and Chinese food in exchange for our company for the evening:
There was a time in our lives when I could see us accepting his offer because WHAT A GOOD STORY IT WOULD BE! But we're old and less stupid now so instead of possibly waking up missing a finger or two, we thanked Adam and his cohorts for the Miller Lites and wished them all well.
Fun Fact #1: Adam (the older one) owns a Chinese restaurant in Humboldt and had a GIANT bag of Humboldt County's primary export that made the air around him stink.
Fun Fact #2: Adam's cat's name is Kung Pao. "Like the chicken," he said.
And then a bunch of other Santas came to join us, including this gentleman and his prop from 1997:
And this lady standing behind Lauren who wanted to take us (or at least Lauren) back to her warehouse in Oakland:
And then eventually we moved back to the Gold Dust to finish out the night with my homie Joel, who was not Santa'fied, but who was willing to be seen in public with us:
We finished out the night with an assortment of greasy foods that were half eaten on the street while we waited for a cab and half eaten in the hotel while we watched Nancy Grace get all fired up about something or other.
Great Santa, you guys!
Monday, December 14, 2009
Listen to me whine.
1. Okay so I have LOTS to report but there are a bunch of pictures from my last two weekends but I either don't have access to them (ATTENTION PERSON WITH THE PICTURES, I'M LOOKING AT YOU!) or I'm having difficulty getting my world wide web to work long enough to upload them, but that second problem is something I'll be tackling tonight because I REALLY want to tell you all about my weekendular activities. (PS, HO HO HO!)
2. In the meantime, OMG BURNING MAN PEOPLE LOOK WHAT YOU CAN GET FROM THE NIEMAN MARCUS CATALOG!!!!
Is that even, like, kosher? From the no-commercialism aspect of it all, I mean? But shoot, I guess I'd rather the rich burners spend $25k on one of those than fund $25k in free tickets for hippies who don't otherwise bother figuring out to pay for their own tickets and/or make grown up decisions about whether or not they can afford it.
YES, I AM A HATER.
3. When I get the pictures from last weekend uploaded I can tell you about how I fell down on a dirty North Beach sidewalk and how, at the time, I thought my only injury was the road rash on my knee but then yesterday I woke up and went OH MY!!! because oops, I hurt my foot too. AND THEN BECAUSE OMG MY LIFE IS SO HARD, I spent yesterday in bed resting my foot (and everything else) and now my eyeballs hurt, which I'm convinced is because I watched like 8 hours of movies on my laptop while in lounging positions with my eyeballs in wonky positions.
I'm sure of it.
To recap: My foot and my eyeballs are all need amputation. Except maybe only my left eyeball. And the foot, of course.
4. I hate these pants and I've spent all day trying to keep the diapery looking butt facing away from people.
5a. I have no idea what to get my future SIL for Christmas. Her bachelorette party is on Saturday though so I'll be listening hard for clues.
5b. A bachelorette party six days before Christmas? Yes. At Santana Row? Yes.
5c. Parking lot rage is almost a given.
2. In the meantime, OMG BURNING MAN PEOPLE LOOK WHAT YOU CAN GET FROM THE NIEMAN MARCUS CATALOG!!!!
Is that even, like, kosher? From the no-commercialism aspect of it all, I mean? But shoot, I guess I'd rather the rich burners spend $25k on one of those than fund $25k in free tickets for hippies who don't otherwise bother figuring out to pay for their own tickets and/or make grown up decisions about whether or not they can afford it.
YES, I AM A HATER.
3. When I get the pictures from last weekend uploaded I can tell you about how I fell down on a dirty North Beach sidewalk and how, at the time, I thought my only injury was the road rash on my knee but then yesterday I woke up and went OH MY!!! because oops, I hurt my foot too. AND THEN BECAUSE OMG MY LIFE IS SO HARD, I spent yesterday in bed resting my foot (and everything else) and now my eyeballs hurt, which I'm convinced is because I watched like 8 hours of movies on my laptop while in lounging positions with my eyeballs in wonky positions.
I'm sure of it.
To recap: My foot and my eyeballs are all need amputation. Except maybe only my left eyeball. And the foot, of course.
4. I hate these pants and I've spent all day trying to keep the diapery looking butt facing away from people.
5a. I have no idea what to get my future SIL for Christmas. Her bachelorette party is on Saturday though so I'll be listening hard for clues.
5b. A bachelorette party six days before Christmas? Yes. At Santana Row? Yes.
5c. Parking lot rage is almost a given.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Exciting things about this picture:
1. These are a size jean I haven't seen in years AND they're non-
stretch and fresh out of the dryer and THEY FIT!
2. I finalllllly ironed the pink skirt that had been lurking in the
background of my ensemble pictures.
3. Santa dress sneak peek!
4. You can't tell, but I'm wearing my new prize earrings.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Things
1. THE FINGER CROSSING WORKED!
I was talking to my boss yesterday and he was all "I don't know why I scheduled that meeting with you for the 22nd...I'll be on PTO...I'm gonna cancel it" and I was all "OMG I AM GOING TO STRANGLE YOU BECAUSE I HAD A HAIR APPOINTMENT BUT I CANCELED IT BECAUSE YOU SENT THAT MEETING REQUEST AND NOW I CAN'T GET ANOTHER APPOINTMENT AND MY BROTHER IS GETTING MARRIED AND I'M GOING TO HAVE BAD HAIR NOW AND OMG!!!!!!"
For reals.
He's a VERY cool boss though so he was all "OMG! I don't want to get in the way of your beautification! You NEED good hair for your brother's wedding!"
For reals. And he's not even gay. He's just a wholesome family man who used to be caught off guard by my candor but now he gets a kick out of it.
So I called the salon and asked PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE for my appointment back and THANKS TO ALL THE FINGER CROSSING, it was still available!
IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE, you guys!!!!
2. You know what is NOT a Christmas miracle?
The fact that my Christmas cards arrived and I realized that there's a TYPO and now I want to GOUGE MY EYES OUT. YAY for ordering really nice cards but BOOOOOOOO for ordering really nice cards that were sorta too expensive to justify re-ordering just because I'm missing an "s" so I'm gonna just OWN my typo.
So if you're one of the 65 people on my Christmas card list, just know that it hurts my heart to send you a typo, but that I can't NOT wish you a happy holiday season via the USPS.
3. My friend Sassy Sarah hosted an earring giveaway on her blog and OMG I WON! I'm a WIENER! So now I'm the lucky owner of these earrings THAT I LOVE:
I want to buy a pair as a Christmas gift but DAGNABBIT, I don't think the designer has any more. I've emailed her though just to see. I'd ask you all to cross your fingers for this too, but I feel like I've used up all my finger-crossing requests for the week.
I was talking to my boss yesterday and he was all "I don't know why I scheduled that meeting with you for the 22nd...I'll be on PTO...I'm gonna cancel it" and I was all "OMG I AM GOING TO STRANGLE YOU BECAUSE I HAD A HAIR APPOINTMENT BUT I CANCELED IT BECAUSE YOU SENT THAT MEETING REQUEST AND NOW I CAN'T GET ANOTHER APPOINTMENT AND MY BROTHER IS GETTING MARRIED AND I'M GOING TO HAVE BAD HAIR NOW AND OMG!!!!!!"
For reals.
He's a VERY cool boss though so he was all "OMG! I don't want to get in the way of your beautification! You NEED good hair for your brother's wedding!"
For reals. And he's not even gay. He's just a wholesome family man who used to be caught off guard by my candor but now he gets a kick out of it.
So I called the salon and asked PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE for my appointment back and THANKS TO ALL THE FINGER CROSSING, it was still available!
IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE, you guys!!!!
2. You know what is NOT a Christmas miracle?
The fact that my Christmas cards arrived and I realized that there's a TYPO and now I want to GOUGE MY EYES OUT. YAY for ordering really nice cards but BOOOOOOOO for ordering really nice cards that were sorta too expensive to justify re-ordering just because I'm missing an "s" so I'm gonna just OWN my typo.
So if you're one of the 65 people on my Christmas card list, just know that it hurts my heart to send you a typo, but that I can't NOT wish you a happy holiday season via the USPS.
3. My friend Sassy Sarah hosted an earring giveaway on her blog and OMG I WON! I'm a WIENER! So now I'm the lucky owner of these earrings THAT I LOVE:
I want to buy a pair as a Christmas gift but DAGNABBIT, I don't think the designer has any more. I've emailed her though just to see. I'd ask you all to cross your fingers for this too, but I feel like I've used up all my finger-crossing requests for the week.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Problem:
I had to cancel my hair appointment because my boss scheduled a meeting that conflicted and now my hair lady is all booked up and can't squeeze me in before my brother's wedding OR EVEN BEFORE I GO TO TEXAS in January so OMG I'm going to have roots for two photo-heavy events!!!!!!!!!
I'm on the cancellation list and I'm reasonably sure I'll be able to get in before I go to Texas but it will be a HAIR EMERGENCY if I can't get in before my brother's wedding and I'll be damned if I'm going anywhere else because "anywhere else" is code for "MY HAIR *WILL* GET JACKED UP!"
So everyone please cross your fingers that someone cancels her hair appointment sometime between now and Christmas.
And the PISSSSSSER is that my boss will very possibly end up cancelling that meeting altogether, but not until like two hours before and it's not like I can call him and go "Hey, um, I'd like to get my hair cut in the middle of the work day -- are we for sure meeting on the 22nd?"
I'm on the cancellation list and I'm reasonably sure I'll be able to get in before I go to Texas but it will be a HAIR EMERGENCY if I can't get in before my brother's wedding and I'll be damned if I'm going anywhere else because "anywhere else" is code for "MY HAIR *WILL* GET JACKED UP!"
So everyone please cross your fingers that someone cancels her hair appointment sometime between now and Christmas.
And the PISSSSSSER is that my boss will very possibly end up cancelling that meeting altogether, but not until like two hours before and it's not like I can call him and go "Hey, um, I'd like to get my hair cut in the middle of the work day -- are we for sure meeting on the 22nd?"
Monday, December 7, 2009
Passport Photos: CHECK!
The guy was like "No teeth and we have to see your ears." As a person
who prides herself on knowing how to take a good photo, these
restrictions were painful, but I managed. Also: As it turns out, my
ears lay flat against my head so they're not really visible.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
For my mom...
Again with the baby videos because my mom can't show them to her work homies any other way.
Phone for dinner:
(And FYI, the gurgle you hear at about :26 is not my stomach -- I was urrrrrrr'ing at my slobbery phone.)
Baby thinks I'm entertaining:
Adorable as all get-out, right?
RIGHT.
Phone for dinner:
(And FYI, the gurgle you hear at about :26 is not my stomach -- I was urrrrrrr'ing at my slobbery phone.)
Baby thinks I'm entertaining:
Adorable as all get-out, right?
RIGHT.
Things!
1. I only have one male first cousin and I've only met him once like twenty years ago, but if he ever reappears and we fall madly in love, I'm glad to know that I could marry him if I wanted to:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/26/garden/26cousins.html
I wouldn't even have to change my name!
2. This documentary about Japanese host clubs is FAS-CIN-A-TING:
The Great Happiness Space: Tale of an Osaka Love Thief
You think it's about one thing but then you start wondering how these chicks can afford to drop that kind of dough and then they tell you and OHHHHHHHH! It's all of a sudden it's a different movie.
Netflix it! STAT!
Also? This is just NOT my flavor:
3. Sidebar: Britney's hot hit If You Seek Amy just came up on shuffle and I'm reminded of when an anon friend was like "I don't get why people are all worked up about that song -- what's wrong with seeing Amy?" And I was all "Awwwwl, Puddin...been listening to the Radio Disney version?"
4. I've also been watching Carrier, a PBS reality series (documentary?) about life on the USS Nimitz during the current war.
I've gotta give it another FAS-CIN-A-TING. It makes me simultaneously glad and disappointed that I never joined the military.
It's also worth noting that for all the "We are fighting for our freedom, THIS IS FOR YOU, 9/11 VICTIMS!" interview clips they show, there are a solid number of "I don't really get the connection between 9/11 and what we're doing here...they're different people, aren't they?" and "I do not agree with our President, but it is my duty to do what he says" interviews.
Anyway...FASCINATING.
5. I was alllllllllll set to click PUBLISH and then I got an email alerting me to the fact that my pictures from the Mermaid Run I did a few weeks ago were ready.
Pictures?
So I looked at them and OH HOLY HELL.
You know how stupid you look in those roller coaster pictures where you don't know you're having your picture taken?
Well imagine THAT level of glamour PLUS the following:
* running
* sweating
* stretch pants
However good I felt about myself for running that damn thing IS NOTHING compared to all the pictures they sent me of a fat girl with seven chins and stretch pants.
This, my darling internet, is the LEAST bad one:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/26/garden/26cousins.html
I wouldn't even have to change my name!
2. This documentary about Japanese host clubs is FAS-CIN-A-TING:
The Great Happiness Space: Tale of an Osaka Love Thief
You think it's about one thing but then you start wondering how these chicks can afford to drop that kind of dough and then they tell you and OHHHHHHHH! It's all of a sudden it's a different movie.
Netflix it! STAT!
Also? This is just NOT my flavor:
3. Sidebar: Britney's hot hit If You Seek Amy just came up on shuffle and I'm reminded of when an anon friend was like "I don't get why people are all worked up about that song -- what's wrong with seeing Amy?" And I was all "Awwwwl, Puddin...been listening to the Radio Disney version?"
4. I've also been watching Carrier, a PBS reality series (documentary?) about life on the USS Nimitz during the current war.
I've gotta give it another FAS-CIN-A-TING. It makes me simultaneously glad and disappointed that I never joined the military.
It's also worth noting that for all the "We are fighting for our freedom, THIS IS FOR YOU, 9/11 VICTIMS!" interview clips they show, there are a solid number of "I don't really get the connection between 9/11 and what we're doing here...they're different people, aren't they?" and "I do not agree with our President, but it is my duty to do what he says" interviews.
Anyway...FASCINATING.
5. I was alllllllllll set to click PUBLISH and then I got an email alerting me to the fact that my pictures from the Mermaid Run I did a few weeks ago were ready.
Pictures?
So I looked at them and OH HOLY HELL.
You know how stupid you look in those roller coaster pictures where you don't know you're having your picture taken?
Well imagine THAT level of glamour PLUS the following:
* running
* sweating
* stretch pants
However good I felt about myself for running that damn thing IS NOTHING compared to all the pictures they sent me of a fat girl with seven chins and stretch pants.
This, my darling internet, is the LEAST bad one:
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Problem:
My Santa dress is now about three sizes too big and it may be
inoperable. Cross your fingers for me, Internet.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Fatshions
I present to you, DRESS SHOPPING WITH ELIZABETH!
My friend Alyssa is getting married on New Year's Eve and my brother is getting married on New Year's Day. Therefore, I need TWO dresses because:
A. What if I spill on NYE?
B. Facebook will know that I wore the same dress two days in a row, and I can't have THAT!
Soooo, I've been on the lookout for dresses for a month or so and have found four that I like and have been able to narrow those down to TWO. Perfect! Now my only problem is in deciding which to wear to Alyssa's wedding and which to wear to my brother's wedding. I thought I knew but then my mom LOVES the dress I was going to wear to Alyssa's wedding so I just don't know.
So here they are, in order of how much I like them...
This one is being returned, so don't tell me that you love it:
It is fun and gold and has a FRINGE! But it's also a bit too sausagey and not as pretty as the two winners.
Also being returned:
It was better than option #1, but still not a winner. I did like the gold and black burnout though:
THIS is the dress I want to wear to my brother's wedding:
I love the fabric and the cut and it's just totally awesome. I'd *prefer* that it was a v-neck instead of that boat neck so I might see if a tailor can fix that for me, but if not, I like it enough as-is.
I really didn't think I'd like this one and that it wouldn't flatter me, but I tried it on and WHOA! I kinda like it! And it has sleeves!
It's hard to see the ruffles in that picture but LOOK HOW CUTE:
So now I have until December 31st to make up my mind...
(And OMG YOU GUYS THOSE DRESSES ARE IN SIZES I HAVEN'T SEEN IN YEARS!!!)
My friend Alyssa is getting married on New Year's Eve and my brother is getting married on New Year's Day. Therefore, I need TWO dresses because:
A. What if I spill on NYE?
B. Facebook will know that I wore the same dress two days in a row, and I can't have THAT!
Soooo, I've been on the lookout for dresses for a month or so and have found four that I like and have been able to narrow those down to TWO. Perfect! Now my only problem is in deciding which to wear to Alyssa's wedding and which to wear to my brother's wedding. I thought I knew but then my mom LOVES the dress I was going to wear to Alyssa's wedding so I just don't know.
So here they are, in order of how much I like them...
This one is being returned, so don't tell me that you love it:
It is fun and gold and has a FRINGE! But it's also a bit too sausagey and not as pretty as the two winners.
Also being returned:
It was better than option #1, but still not a winner. I did like the gold and black burnout though:
THIS is the dress I want to wear to my brother's wedding:
I love the fabric and the cut and it's just totally awesome. I'd *prefer* that it was a v-neck instead of that boat neck so I might see if a tailor can fix that for me, but if not, I like it enough as-is.
I really didn't think I'd like this one and that it wouldn't flatter me, but I tried it on and WHOA! I kinda like it! And it has sleeves!
It's hard to see the ruffles in that picture but LOOK HOW CUTE:
So now I have until December 31st to make up my mind...
(And OMG YOU GUYS THOSE DRESSES ARE IN SIZES I HAVEN'T SEEN IN YEARS!!!)
Monday, November 23, 2009
Mrs. Sean
Okay so Walkera and I FINALLY made it to Mission Street Food, a showcase type thing for up and coming chefs. They hold it twice a week in a Chinese dive in the Mission and proceeds go to charity, blah blah blah. Saturday night was an international twist on the standard American Thanksgiving dinner so Walkera and I enjoyed the following:
French Onion French Dip: turkey confit, duck fat-onions and gruyere fondue on acme roll, served with turkey jus
Turkish Turkey: smoked, fried and za'atar dusted wings, served with tzatziki and salad of pear, celery, feta, and cranberry
Dirty South Stuffing: cornbread, collards, ham hocks, giblets
Mashed Potato with Beef Mole
Sake-Mirin Creamed Corn
Szechuan Green Bean Casserole
Lung Shan's Vegan Delight: shitake and oyster mushroom dumplings in miso soup
Six of our seven courses:
And for dessert we had bourbon & corn flake ice cream (breakfast flavor) and a delicious little baby pumpkin pie with orange flavored cream, which has inspired me to try adding a teeny bit of orange blossom water to my whipped cream for Thanksgiving.
It was all really good and we definitely plan to return and would recommend it to anyone who doesn't mind eating from the same plates as your dining companions or sharing tables with strangers. Plus, $5 corkage, we love you.
So all that is fine and good and we'd do it again but it was made even better because OMG WE HAD AWESOME TABLE COMPANIONS! One in particular, but I'll get to him in a minute...
We were seated with two SF hippie types in knitted hat-type-things. We thought they were a couple but they mentioned working together and she mentioned being married but he mentioned being polyamorous so really, all bets were off. He was VERY tall and kinda cute in a looks-like-he-lives-Burning-Man-style-365-days-a-year kind of way (i.e., NOT my flavor) and he told us that they didn't order everything on the tasting menu (like we did, oink) because the last time he did that, his date dumped him at the table so he thought it was bad luck. I'm pretty sure Walkera wouldn't dump me over creamed corn and green bean casserole so I wasn't worried about this bad juju.
He also said that The Slanted Door (a fancy Vietnamese-ish restaurant) was bad luck because he'd been dumped there and he'd also dumped someone there. Noted. Except really dude? How are we defining these "break ups"? When he went to pay the bill I asked his married lady friend if she thought he thought a break up was necessary after maybe only a few dates because otherwise? That's a lot of girlfriends! I don't remember her exact answer but I do remember thinking that he seemed overly eager to think things needed "breaking up" when perhaps a mutual fizzle would be more appropriate and less dramatic.
So they left and a handsome young man came to wipe down their half of the table and we joked with him that if he didn't mind, I'd like to put in a request for our next table mates to be two single, handsome, straight and tall men. He laughed and just then the hostess came by and he told her that we had a request. She gave it some thought and then 60 seconds later she brought us almost exactly what we ordered -- two handsome, straight and tall men.
We laughed and said "PERFECT!" The gentleman we'd later ADORE walked up, saw me and Walkera and said "PERFECT!" The hostess looked pleased with herself.
So there we were, smushed around a tiny table with two handsome men. Jamie was probably the more traditionally handsome one and he was roommates with one of the waitresses so he was a Mission Street Food regular and definitely seemed to be popular with the staff in general. Jamie was also a cocky shit.
But Sean....ohhhhhhhhhhhh Seaaaaaaaan. He isn't AT ALL my type or Walkera's type but holy hell -- he turned us into giddy school girls and we spent the whole ride home discussing exactly what it was about him that made us melt.
(Note to Walkera: He had a bite of our ice cream when you were in the bathroom. I think that means we're engaged now, FYI.)
Gentlemen, here's a tip:
Sure, Sean was very tall and plenty handsome in an all-American, wholesome blond guy kind of way, but when Walkera or I spoke, it's like the whole world turned off for him and all he heard was the sound of our voices.
As in, he paid attention. But with intensity.
And hooooooooooo boy...all of a sudden Walkera and I had the hots for a blond man.
UNPRECEDENTED!
A blond man fresh out of a breakup and who lives in Washington DC, but a blond man nonetheless.
At some point I got up to use the ladies room and the hostess grabbed me on my way to tell me that "OMG IT WAS MOSTLY AN ACCIDENT THAT I WAS ABLE TO SEAT THEM THERE, BUT HOW PERFECT, RIGHT?"
"DUDE, FOR SURE!"
"Jamie has a girlfriend but he's SUCH A GREAT GUY!"
"Ehhh, Jamie is certainly handsome but WE LOVE THE OTHER ONE!"
And we laughed about it all again.
And then when Walkera and I went to the cashier to pay we stood there for a few minutes rehashing it all with the cashier (who also thinks Jamie is AWESOME) and the hostess.
This was pretty much the conversation on the drive home:
I love Sean.
Me too.
Jamie was handsome, but dude, talk about cocky.
I know.
He wasn't even nearly as awesome as Sean.
I know...too bad he lives in DC.
I love how focused he was on me when we were talking.
Totallllly. Me too. He was way more awesome than Jamie.
Why did everyone there love Jamie SO MUCH?
Dude, I don't know, but I love Sean.
Me too.
Rinse and repeat.
In Summary:
Walkera and I both want to be Mrs. Sean.
Mission Street Food is tasty and surprisingly interactive.
French Onion French Dip: turkey confit, duck fat-onions and gruyere fondue on acme roll, served with turkey jus
Turkish Turkey: smoked, fried and za'atar dusted wings, served with tzatziki and salad of pear, celery, feta, and cranberry
Dirty South Stuffing: cornbread, collards, ham hocks, giblets
Mashed Potato with Beef Mole
Sake-Mirin Creamed Corn
Szechuan Green Bean Casserole
Lung Shan's Vegan Delight: shitake and oyster mushroom dumplings in miso soup
Six of our seven courses:
And for dessert we had bourbon & corn flake ice cream (breakfast flavor) and a delicious little baby pumpkin pie with orange flavored cream, which has inspired me to try adding a teeny bit of orange blossom water to my whipped cream for Thanksgiving.
It was all really good and we definitely plan to return and would recommend it to anyone who doesn't mind eating from the same plates as your dining companions or sharing tables with strangers. Plus, $5 corkage, we love you.
So all that is fine and good and we'd do it again but it was made even better because OMG WE HAD AWESOME TABLE COMPANIONS! One in particular, but I'll get to him in a minute...
We were seated with two SF hippie types in knitted hat-type-things. We thought they were a couple but they mentioned working together and she mentioned being married but he mentioned being polyamorous so really, all bets were off. He was VERY tall and kinda cute in a looks-like-he-lives-Burning-Man-style-365-days-a-year kind of way (i.e., NOT my flavor) and he told us that they didn't order everything on the tasting menu (like we did, oink) because the last time he did that, his date dumped him at the table so he thought it was bad luck. I'm pretty sure Walkera wouldn't dump me over creamed corn and green bean casserole so I wasn't worried about this bad juju.
He also said that The Slanted Door (a fancy Vietnamese-ish restaurant) was bad luck because he'd been dumped there and he'd also dumped someone there. Noted. Except really dude? How are we defining these "break ups"? When he went to pay the bill I asked his married lady friend if she thought he thought a break up was necessary after maybe only a few dates because otherwise? That's a lot of girlfriends! I don't remember her exact answer but I do remember thinking that he seemed overly eager to think things needed "breaking up" when perhaps a mutual fizzle would be more appropriate and less dramatic.
So they left and a handsome young man came to wipe down their half of the table and we joked with him that if he didn't mind, I'd like to put in a request for our next table mates to be two single, handsome, straight and tall men. He laughed and just then the hostess came by and he told her that we had a request. She gave it some thought and then 60 seconds later she brought us almost exactly what we ordered -- two handsome, straight and tall men.
We laughed and said "PERFECT!" The gentleman we'd later ADORE walked up, saw me and Walkera and said "PERFECT!" The hostess looked pleased with herself.
So there we were, smushed around a tiny table with two handsome men. Jamie was probably the more traditionally handsome one and he was roommates with one of the waitresses so he was a Mission Street Food regular and definitely seemed to be popular with the staff in general. Jamie was also a cocky shit.
But Sean....ohhhhhhhhhhhh Seaaaaaaaan. He isn't AT ALL my type or Walkera's type but holy hell -- he turned us into giddy school girls and we spent the whole ride home discussing exactly what it was about him that made us melt.
(Note to Walkera: He had a bite of our ice cream when you were in the bathroom. I think that means we're engaged now, FYI.)
Gentlemen, here's a tip:
Sure, Sean was very tall and plenty handsome in an all-American, wholesome blond guy kind of way, but when Walkera or I spoke, it's like the whole world turned off for him and all he heard was the sound of our voices.
As in, he paid attention. But with intensity.
And hooooooooooo boy...all of a sudden Walkera and I had the hots for a blond man.
UNPRECEDENTED!
A blond man fresh out of a breakup and who lives in Washington DC, but a blond man nonetheless.
At some point I got up to use the ladies room and the hostess grabbed me on my way to tell me that "OMG IT WAS MOSTLY AN ACCIDENT THAT I WAS ABLE TO SEAT THEM THERE, BUT HOW PERFECT, RIGHT?"
"DUDE, FOR SURE!"
"Jamie has a girlfriend but he's SUCH A GREAT GUY!"
"Ehhh, Jamie is certainly handsome but WE LOVE THE OTHER ONE!"
And we laughed about it all again.
And then when Walkera and I went to the cashier to pay we stood there for a few minutes rehashing it all with the cashier (who also thinks Jamie is AWESOME) and the hostess.
This was pretty much the conversation on the drive home:
I love Sean.
Me too.
Jamie was handsome, but dude, talk about cocky.
I know.
He wasn't even nearly as awesome as Sean.
I know...too bad he lives in DC.
I love how focused he was on me when we were talking.
Totallllly. Me too. He was way more awesome than Jamie.
Why did everyone there love Jamie SO MUCH?
Dude, I don't know, but I love Sean.
Me too.
Rinse and repeat.
In Summary:
Walkera and I both want to be Mrs. Sean.
Mission Street Food is tasty and surprisingly interactive.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
German Bikers Who Are Not Pirates
Okay so here's where I admit something unflattering about myself so that I can tell you a story. Longtime readers of the other incarnations of my blogging world will be all "What? Dude, I think we all already know all the unflattering stuff about you, Ms 'Look at This Picture and Tell Me if This is an Ingrown Hair or a TUMAH"
BUT YOU GUYS, that was back before MY FAMILY and other normal people started reading me and I had to start keeping it clean.
So here's the thing I have to tell you in order to tell you a story:
I have unwanted hair and I pay a lady to stick a magic wand into each hair follicle and electrocute it.
AND NOW YOU KNOW.
(I would also like to say that I AM NOT ALONE IN MY HAIRY PLIGHT! I'm just willing to admit it.)
I'm sure this isn't proper facial hair removal etiquette and I should probably avert my eyes to allow the other hairy beasts with appointments before and after mine some privacy, but I can't help but peek and speculate about their specific problem areas. A few weeks ago there was a man whose wife wanted him to get his eyebrows permanently tamed (Confidential to my favorite WoW player: FYI) so that was a brief thrill, but for the most part, they're all tubby middle-aged women who are probably there for the same chinny chin chin whiskers that I'm there for.
BUT LAST NIGHT I heard the last appointment finishing up and the hair zapper lady and the client stood at the counter (you can't see the client until they actually emerge from behind the door) discussing payment, next appointments, Thanksgiving plans, etc. I heard the client's voice and I was excited that OMG IT'S MY FIRST TRANSGENDERED PARTNER IN HAIR REMOVAL! AND SHE WAS GERMAN! AND SHE WAS A BIKER!
(Carrie will feel me on my excitement at encountering another German biker, but she didn't mention also being a pirate, so the trifecta was left incomplete.)
Except I WAS WRONG because she walked through the door and it turned out that she was just a biological woman who appeared to have some sort of excessive growth hormone issue, which I assumed was why she was like 6'6", had a deep-ish voice and was (based on the conversation) being treated for a facial hair problem.
We smiled at each other as she walked past me and then the hair removal lady was like "Wait!" and then motioned for me to stand up and compare my height to the German biker.
I'm 5'11" and I'm riiiiight at the upper end of the "tall but not freakishly tall" spectrum and, in my experience, women who are much taller than me DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. *Especially* women like this lady who was EXCEPTIONALLY tall.
But okay, fine, I can make polite conversation about it.
"Yeah, you win! You're taller than me!"
"Oh but at least you can wear heels, I wouldn't dare."
The German biker gave me a really kind smile and I really wanted to hug her and whisper that I had no idea why the hair removal lady thought this would be amusing and that I was sorry but enjoy the lonely hearts Thanksgiving you're hosting for your biker friends and your trip home to Germany for Christmas!
And then she left and the hair removal lady immediately blabbed that she used to be a he and then went on for a few minutes about how sweet she was and how the biker community has really embraced her and I've been thinking about the whole exchange ever since.
Specifically:
1. It's bad enough that she'd directly compare a freakishly tall lady to a regular tall lady -- like the freakishly tall lady really WANTS to hear that WHOA, YOU'RE WAY TALLER THAN THIS OTHER REALLY TALL LADY!
2. BUT DOES SHE THINK A TRANSGENDERED LADY REALLY WANTS TO BE COMPARED TO A BIOLOGICAL WOMAN LIKE THAT? "Oh hey, look at this biological lady who is so much more passable than you are!"
2a. And really, while we're at it, why would a biological woman want her physical attributes to be compared with someone who used to be a man?
3. I don't understand what either of us were supposed to get out of that whole interaction.
4. For a 6'6"-ish transgendered lady, she was kinda passable in a possibly-has-gigantism kind of way.
In Summary:
I have unwanted facial hair.
Single bikers in the area have something to do for Thanksgiving.
BUT YOU GUYS, that was back before MY FAMILY and other normal people started reading me and I had to start keeping it clean.
So here's the thing I have to tell you in order to tell you a story:
I have unwanted hair and I pay a lady to stick a magic wand into each hair follicle and electrocute it.
AND NOW YOU KNOW.
(I would also like to say that I AM NOT ALONE IN MY HAIRY PLIGHT! I'm just willing to admit it.)
I'm sure this isn't proper facial hair removal etiquette and I should probably avert my eyes to allow the other hairy beasts with appointments before and after mine some privacy, but I can't help but peek and speculate about their specific problem areas. A few weeks ago there was a man whose wife wanted him to get his eyebrows permanently tamed (Confidential to my favorite WoW player: FYI) so that was a brief thrill, but for the most part, they're all tubby middle-aged women who are probably there for the same chinny chin chin whiskers that I'm there for.
BUT LAST NIGHT I heard the last appointment finishing up and the hair zapper lady and the client stood at the counter (you can't see the client until they actually emerge from behind the door) discussing payment, next appointments, Thanksgiving plans, etc. I heard the client's voice and I was excited that OMG IT'S MY FIRST TRANSGENDERED PARTNER IN HAIR REMOVAL! AND SHE WAS GERMAN! AND SHE WAS A BIKER!
(Carrie will feel me on my excitement at encountering another German biker, but she didn't mention also being a pirate, so the trifecta was left incomplete.)
Except I WAS WRONG because she walked through the door and it turned out that she was just a biological woman who appeared to have some sort of excessive growth hormone issue, which I assumed was why she was like 6'6", had a deep-ish voice and was (based on the conversation) being treated for a facial hair problem.
We smiled at each other as she walked past me and then the hair removal lady was like "Wait!" and then motioned for me to stand up and compare my height to the German biker.
I'm 5'11" and I'm riiiiight at the upper end of the "tall but not freakishly tall" spectrum and, in my experience, women who are much taller than me DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. *Especially* women like this lady who was EXCEPTIONALLY tall.
But okay, fine, I can make polite conversation about it.
"Yeah, you win! You're taller than me!"
"Oh but at least you can wear heels, I wouldn't dare."
The German biker gave me a really kind smile and I really wanted to hug her and whisper that I had no idea why the hair removal lady thought this would be amusing and that I was sorry but enjoy the lonely hearts Thanksgiving you're hosting for your biker friends and your trip home to Germany for Christmas!
And then she left and the hair removal lady immediately blabbed that she used to be a he and then went on for a few minutes about how sweet she was and how the biker community has really embraced her and I've been thinking about the whole exchange ever since.
Specifically:
1. It's bad enough that she'd directly compare a freakishly tall lady to a regular tall lady -- like the freakishly tall lady really WANTS to hear that WHOA, YOU'RE WAY TALLER THAN THIS OTHER REALLY TALL LADY!
2. BUT DOES SHE THINK A TRANSGENDERED LADY REALLY WANTS TO BE COMPARED TO A BIOLOGICAL WOMAN LIKE THAT? "Oh hey, look at this biological lady who is so much more passable than you are!"
2a. And really, while we're at it, why would a biological woman want her physical attributes to be compared with someone who used to be a man?
3. I don't understand what either of us were supposed to get out of that whole interaction.
4. For a 6'6"-ish transgendered lady, she was kinda passable in a possibly-has-gigantism kind of way.
In Summary:
I have unwanted facial hair.
Single bikers in the area have something to do for Thanksgiving.
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