Tag Archive: fooooood

She’s Alive! ALIIIVE!

It’s true!  I’m not dead!  You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?  Ha!  No sir, not me. 

Although I see how you might think that, since I haven’t posted in like a month.  And for that I apologize.  Trying to post every day really took a toll on me, and I got all sorts of burnt out on the whole thing.  I’ve definitely thought about writing since then, and have had things to say, but life just has a way of, well, getting in the way of the best of intentions.  But enough excuses.

I’m actually just here today to brag a little bit.  Remember waaaay back on January 1, when Mick and I told you about our friends at Jimily Farms?  Well folks, Jim and Emily paid us a visit yesterday and brought samples of their newest products!  I now have, in my possession, one jar of raw goat’s milk, one jar of goat yogurt, almost two pounds of fresh chevre cheese, and two bags of incredibly pure worm castings.  And so far, everything is AWESOME.  Have you ever had goat’s milk?  It’s surprisingly delicious!  It’s sweeter than cow milk, and better for you too.  Even Mick liked it, and he hates milk.  The chevre was equally fabulous, especially since these guys are just starting out.  I laid awake in bed this morning dreaming of all sorts of things I could do with it: blend it with fresh herbs, add some lemon zest, maybe pepper some of it.  Hell, with two pounhds of it, I’ve got some room to experiment.

Speaking of fresh herbs, I embarked on a new horticultural journey recently and planted myself a little herb garden.  I’ve got pots of fresh rosemary, sage, stevia, verigated oregano, cilantro, italian parsley, and pineapple mint.  So far, after two weeks, the basil is the only thing that hasn’t survived.  Check it out!

the garden

The Garden

You’ll also notice a few other plants in there, as I was sort of on a roll that day.  Our neighbor, who just moved in a few months ago, inherited an amazing cactus garden from the previous owner, a firefighter and brilliant xeroscaper.  I guess since we were both doing some yardwork that morning, she came over and offered me the chance to take some of the agaves from her yard, as they sort of tend to take over when not tended vigilantly.  She was nice enough to give me a few big ones on top of the little babies that had been growing between the rocks and out of the sidewalk.  You can also see the now-deceased basil, and the large red pot that held my first attempt at transplanting a bluebonnet.  Unfortunately, that proved to be a doomed effort.  The laws of man in cahoots with the laws of nature, I say.  As a trade, however, nature decided to give me back the orchid I though had frozen to death; the tiny green bud of hope caught my eye yesterday and made me just a little giddy.

The orchid lives!


So I spent a few minutes this morning spreading my new bag of worm castings on all my plants, and I fully expect super herbs in a week or two.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Aside from my attempts at amateur gardening, I’ve still been knitting up a storm.  Trying to find things to knit during the summer is proving a bit challenging, and has resulted in a basket full of dishtowels for lack of any better ideas on most days.  For giggles, I’ve been working up some little monster dolls, which is fun and a bit challenging at times.  Example, here’s the incompleted Frankie doll:

Frankie! (cell phone pic, not great)

I had planned on making him a little jacket, but so far attempts have been mediocre at best.  Rather than fretting, I’ve started making him a little bride, and we’ll see how that turns out.  If you haven’t looked lately, I did put a bunch of new stuff up on the Hell Bent Etsy site (hope you like dishrags!!), so go check that out and see what strikes your fancy.  I’ve got more stuff to add too, and I’ll let you know when that makes it up.

Considering it’s pretty early still, that’s all I can think of to tell you at the moment.  If anything comes up, I’ll be sure to let you know!  Take care, lovelies, and you’ll hear from me again soon.  I promise it won’t be a month this time.

Weekend Update, starring me!


That’s the kind of morning it’s been.  It has been, in every conceivable way, the worst case scenario.  And in some cases, worse than we imagined.  But I won’t bore you with the minutiae of my craptastic morning, and let it suffice to say that I’ve had a few cups of tea and things are looking less worse.  Let’s talk about some happy things.

Like the weekend!  I’ll let it be known here that I have a few issues with SXSW, namely the large amount of douchebags it brings into our fair city.  But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.  Because if there was ever a refuge, a safe haven if you will, from SXSW douchebaggery of all kinds, it would be Mojo’s Mayhem at the Continental Club.  Somehow Steve and Mojo Nixon have figured out the perfect recipe for douche repellent, and a bit of uber-crass psychobilly doesn’t hurt either.  Mick and I go every year, and every year it’s an all-day raucous blast.  One of my favorite things is to watch the crowd rotate throughout the day; not many of us last from 10am to 6pm, and the variety of bands tends to draw a wide variety of fans.  In the morning, there’s the relatively-unheard-of bands that bring in the younger, hipper crowd.  Around midday they start with the Austin legends (John Dee Graham, James McMurtry, etc), and the older crowd of hippies moves in.  The next-to-last band gets a little more rowdy (last year was Dash Riprock, this year the Mother Truckers), and then almost every year Mojo Nixon and the Toadliquors will round out the evening.  By that point, the crowd consists mostly of punks and drunks and hardcore fans, and it’s really brilliant.  I had the privelege of rocking out at the front of the crowd next to a couple in their late 60s who were having the best time.  There’s nothing like watching a 68-year-old woman singing “tie my pecker to my leg” to brighten your day; if that doesn’t make you smile, you are soulless indeed. 

Afterwards Mick, Naj, and I trekked over to Home Slice for some pizza, which was FILLED TO THE BRIM with out-of-town douchebags.  But the food was great, so it almost made up for it.  I felt very sorry for the staff there.  I remember those days. 

And in not-so-exciting news, I spent Sunday in Georgetown with the ‘rents.  It’s always a nice way to spend a Sunday, laid back and not really doing much.  For me anyways, dad and my brother spent the afternoon working on my car. :)   I, on the other hand, chatted with ma and helped make some brownies, helped her pick out clothes for their upcoming cruise, and played about 3 hours worth of Mario Galaxy on the wii.  For the record, I am terrible at almost all video games, but Mario is a fun way to kill some time.  

Another bonus of spending a day with my parents is that I always come home with more than I left with.  Yesterday I was gifted with some adorable owl planters, a handful of wisteria cuttings, some leftover chinese food, and an ungodly amount of saffron. 

(my dad is awesome)

crackberry shown for scale

I didn’t bring home that whole bag.  That’s how much was left after I filled up about half of a mason jar.  In other words, that right there is about $500 worth of saffron, on the US market anyways.  In Israel, where it came from, that’s about $5.  If I were only slightly more industrious, I’d set up shop on the street corner or outside the 7-11, peddling imported saffron to the youth.  Youth who are crying out for more flavorful risotto, who are tired of ”the establishment’s” piss-poor paella.  But instead I’ll probably just hoard it and eat a lot of yellow food in the upcoming months.  The search for good saffron recipes begins!  I’ll let you know how it goes. 

And that brings us back around to today, which you’ve already heard enough about.  Mick is off getting a physical, I’m stuck here, and that’s about where we stand.  I haven’t had time to check out any news of the day, so I can’t bring you any goodies just yet.  Maybe tomorrow will be better.  I try to be my best. 

You kids be good.  I’ll chat with you tomorrow.

It’s called SUN-day!

Hello weekend!  This nice weather certainly has perked things up around here, and I know I’m feeling a lot better for it.  My improved mood may also be related to the intense amount of shopping I’ve done over the last two days.  RETAIL THERAPY!  The best kind of therapy. 

Yesterday I went to the Domain with my mom.  To some, that might sound like torture, but we had a blast.  She and my dad are going on a cruise soon and she needed help picking out some things to take.  Of course I’m always happy to help, and as an added bonus she usually rewards me with a little something.  A few somethings, as it turns out, like an awesome new summery outfit (which I’m wearing right now, as a matter of fact) and some fabulous Chanel lipstick.  Ever wonder where I get my expensive taste from?  Wonder no more.  And as a sort of trade-off, I took her to Torchy’s for lunch, which was quite a hit. 

And after all that, I went back today and picked up a pair of shoes that I shouldn’t have passed up yesterday. 

So I’ll say that my troubles of not feeling womanly were pretty well cured with a trip to Neiman Marcus and my newfound ability to wear shorts.  And, surprisingly, no one was blinded by the paleness of my legs!  Hooray! 

To share in the good feelings of the day, we’ve invited a friend over for dinner and I’ll be cooking a real meal for the first time in what feels like ages.  To be fair, it was kind of a bribe to get Mick and a friend to put together our new patio set, but it’s dinner nonetheless!  And we can eat it on our new patio set!  Mick, for the record, has been gone most of the afternoon visiting with our web guru Naj and discussing the future of our beloved CyberMonkeyDeathSquad.  Lately it’s been not-so-beloved and more of a back-burner project due to script stuff and this new venture we have here in YGFAD.  But with SXSW going on now, I think we’re both getting a little nostalgic for the scene (not to mention the press badges), and we’re ready for a rebirth.  There’ll be a new look, a ton of new stuff on the back-end that will make our lives much easier, commenting abilities, who knows what else.  I know I’m ready to get back into it.

But now I must go prepare foods!  Enjoy the sunshine, kiddos!

It’s morning again.

Holy balls.  I need to make myself a blog alarm or something to keep me from forgetting to write.  Some days there’s just too much going on, and you know how easily distracted I am.  Like yesterday, yesterday was filled with all sorts of little distractions.  We woke up early to go to a brunch screening of COP OUT.  I do these things for my husband because I love him and want him to be happy.  And for his sake, I really wanted it to be better than it looked.  I really did.  Unfortunately…well, yeah.  Terrible.  The script was absolutely atrocious, the characters were flat, the plot was predictable.  The bad guys were stereotypical to a non-sensical degree.  (A Mexican gang boss doing bloody business in a Catholic church?  Gaaaaaah.)  Tracy Morgan is funny in that way that Tracy Morgan always is, but it seemed like the whole time there was someone sitting behind me (Kevin Smith maybe?) screaming OMG LOOK HOW FUNNY HE IS! LAUGH, DAMN YOU, HE’S FUNNY! IT’S A FUNNY MOVIE!  But it wasn’t, really.  I got a few chuckles.  A grin on occasion.  Oh, and did I mention it has the same soundtrack as every other crappy action/cop movie in the last 20 years????  “Hey, they’re latinos, let’s play some Cypress Hill in this scene!  And for the cops, how about Black Betty?  That’s edgy!”  The only thing missing was the Beverly Hills Cop song, and I think I would have just left at that point. 

But hey, the french toast was awesome.  That’s really all this movie was: an excuse to eat Alamo Drafthouse Creme Brulee French Toast.   

Luckily the day did improve, as my 7-day quest to find a store that carried my particular brand of moisturizer was ended thanks to the glory of Target (where I managed to get the last bottle, and the industrial size at that).  Finished up a few knitting projects, started a few more, working my way through that.  And after everything, dinner at Johnny T’s.  Have you still not been there?  And you call yourself a Texan? (Well, maybe you don’t.  And that’s okay, I guess.)  You’re missing out, friends.  Last night I ventured outside of my comfortable pork and sausage zone and had some smoked chicken.  DELISH.  Even the white meat was moist and flavorful, not dry and bland.  Another wonderful meal.  And in our quest for dessert, we ended up going out for fondue, which was also a good choice and a nice quiet way to end the evening. 

So overall, the day gets an 8 despite its rocky beginnings. 

Today is relatively unexciting, as Sundays should be on occasion.  My list of duties includes laundry and a few home-cooked meals.  But first, coffee.  Don’t work too hard kiddos.

…and we’re back!  It’s another Sunday come and almost gone, which makes me very sad.  Sundays are often my favorite days, probably because I’m allowed to be lazy for most of the day and not feel bad.  Plus there’s cartoons in the evening and I don’t feel bad for going to bed early. 

As far as Sundays go, it hasn’t been the best, but it’s alright.  While Mick was napping earlier I made myself a big ol’ fire in the fireplace, partly because our house has been unusually cold lately and partly because I like watching things burn.  So now I’m watching it do its thing and thinking about that half a piece of cheesecake in the fridge. 

AND THEN THE CHEESECAKE WAS NO MORE!  Of course leave it to the TV gods to toss up a Jillian Michaels commercial as I’m stuffing my face.  Thanks.  But hey, here’s some free advertising for today:  If you’re ever in the neighborhood of Mopac and Braker, swing through the big shopping center and check out Just Desserts, a divine little pastry shop offering up a bazillion kinds of cheesecake daily, all oh so delicious.  The key lime is amazing, and I’m also a fan of the mandarin orange.  The piece I just scarfed was a traditional turtle, and it was awesome.  So forget the Cheesecake Factory, support local business and eat better cheesecake.  Go get your Just Desserts!  (Also, it’s right across the way from Mighty Fine, and the perfect way to top of a goddamn tasty hamburger.)

Well, in case your wondering, the Todd Snider show last night was AWESOME.  He actually had two opening bands, neither of which I had ever heard of.  First up, The Tricias…I’m normally not one for chick bands, but these gals were amazing.  Part CSNY, part A.M.E Choir, and a few Nick Cave-esque dirges thrown into the mix; these girls are what the Dixie Chicks wish they were.  Check out this video:

Next up was a honky tonk band from Denver, the Great American Taxi.  They were fun, and the old folks were having a blast.  It was a strange hybrid bluegrass jam band, I’m not sure if it was in a good way or not.  But there were plenty of “ladies of a certain age” doing that strange dance that they do…you know the one, where they bounce their knees and point to the band while they’re singing along.  So there was a lot of that, and it went on for a little longer than it should have.  In the words of my very pregnant friend Stephanie in the row behind me, “it wasn’t as good as a taco.”

But then there was Todd, so it was all okay.  He’s a brilliant songwriter, and a hell of a lot of fun to watch.  And it’s not your typical rock show either; with his bare feet and his floppy hat, he’s a modern-day pied piper, and the entire audience hangs on his every word.  People don’t talk, most don’t scream or whistle (except the occasional drunken frat boy), they just sit and listen.  And he’s more than happy to sing and tell stories and play requests.  And people are actually excited when he says he’s going to play a new song!  Crazy, right?  He’s that brilliant.  And you can tell by the humongous stoner grin that he gets that the man is having a great time doing it too. Here’s another video, just for grins:

So that was definitely the highlight of my weekend, week, January, you know.   And I can say that, because tomorrow is February.  Which means only two weeks till my birthday!  And yes, I am happy to still be at an age where birthdays are an exciting thing, not a dreadful thing.  Although now that I’m officially pushing 30, I do get a little apprehentious sometimes.  Don’t tell anybody though. 

In honor of my birthday, here’s a carousel of things you can buy for me!

Everybody Panic!

Howdy y’all!

Sorry, forgive my Texas twang there.  The movie Reign of Fire is on the tv right now…maybe it’s just me, but Matthew McConaughey doesn’t make a very convincing post-apocalyptic dragon slayer.  And he kind of looks like  an evil Jamie Hyneman.

that looks like one badass myth!

(Honestly, if there really were evil dragons bringing about the apocalypse, I’d bet that Jamie could find a way to bring them down.  With Adam’s help, of course.  Science FTW!)

I’m not actually watching the movie, it just happened to be what the tv turned on to, but I did go out and see a movie today.  Finally, Mick and I got to see A Town Called Panic!  We missed it at FantasticFest because it was up against something else that we really wanted to see, and luckily Tim brought it back to the Alamo Drafthouse for a good run of its own.  And I will say this: it might be the most fun movie I’ve seen in 2010.  It’s a perfect Sunday afternoon matinee, especially when paired with creme brulee french toast.  It’s frantic and funny and clever and cute and downright laughable.  And while it is mostly appropriate for kids (there were quite a few in the audience today), it’s not your typical Disney/Dreamworks/Nickelodeon-type kids movie.  There’s not much in the way of character development, and there’s no big moral lesson to be learned…unless you count “don’t steal other people’s walls”.  Oh, and it’s all in French.  I love it, I had a blast through the whole thing, laughed my ass off too.  So go out and find this film, it’s guaranteed not to disappoint.  I’m confident. 

Besides that and a horrendous late-afternoon trip to the grocery store, it’s been a slow day.  Mick was sort of in the dumps, so I grilled up some ribeyes for dinner and threw together a delicious Red White and Blue cake.  It’s one of those white-trash-patriotic-holiday-bbq desserts that is actually damn delicious.  Hey, even someone with a wide range of culinary expertise can do things the trashy way sometimes!  I’ll even tell you how to make it too!

  • Get some angel food cake (store-bought, homemade, Betty Crocker, it doesn’t matter much); cut the cake into bite-size squares
  • Get a big bowl or 9×13 pan and line the bottom with the cake
  • Cut up some strawberries and sprinkle them generously on top of the cake; add some blueberries too
  • Cover the whole thing with Cool Whip
  • If you’re using a big bowl, you can layer it like a parfait.

See, super simple and quick, and really tasty.  And low fat! (not low-cal or low-sugar, but hey, we can’t win ‘em all.)  Plus it will stay good in the fridge for like a week.  I plan on having some here in a little bit while Mick and I watch some cartoons. 

We’ve recorded quite a few episodes of a new TV show, Archer; from what I can tell, it’s a James Bond sort of story, except done by the guys responsible for Frisky Dingo and starring H. John Benjamin.  **ASIDE: Ok, someone tell me why when I google H John Benjamin, the first image that comes up is a picture of Ben Browder?  Anybody?**  Both of those things make it highly promising in my book, so I’m interested to see what it’s all about.  I’ll let you know how it goes. 

On the agenda tomorrow, we’re going to hit up the 2010 edition of SUPER HAPPY FUN MONKEY BASH!  This is one of my favorite Alamo Drafthouse events of the whole year.  It’s basically just 90 minutes of the strangest, most hilarious Japanese TV clips available.  Brilliant, weird, wonderful stuff.  Gems like a huge fat chick wrestling a tiny geeky dude in a ring filled with spaghetti.  Or broadcast news presented by a chimp and a camel.  Or a famous actor having his house completely trashed by a group of friends with creme pies.  Not to mention a handful of the brilliantly ludicrous commercials starring big-name American actors. 

(Ok, I just got sucked into this crappy movie for a second…the dragons drool?  That strikes me as odd.  Dragons shouldn’t drool.  I don’t know why, they just shouldn’t.)

Anywho, I’m gonna get on with our Archer marathon before it gets late and I get tired.  Enjoy the rest of your Sunday!

(right here)


Couldn’t help myself, sorry.  Came across that in my daily perusings of the Cheezburger Network and it made me happy.  Or happier, I should say, as I already have myself a pot of Gyokuro Kin and am rockin the ELO, which is a recipe for instant happiness, if you ask me.  Also on my list of delightful things for today, I ate lunch at a restaurant that serves nothing but grilled cheese sandwiches and soup.  Not just any grilled cheese sandwiches, mind you, fancy schmancy grilled cheese sandwiches!  I had a gruyere/havarti on rye with tomato basil soup, and it was amazing.  I hear they have a pretty rockin mac and cheese too, which I will have to try at a later date.  Because I will be going back, that is for damn sure.  If you’re in town, check it out: Chedd’s in The Triangle (at the intersection of Lamar and Guadalupe); I hear they’re a franchise too, so check their website to see if there’s one near you. 

And in case you’re wondering, yes we went to the gym last night and I had a blast.  Mick, on the other hand, doesn’t seem too sure about the whole thing yet.  But for me, it felt great to get back into the swing of things.  I’ve always enjoyed exercising and it definitely felt good to burn a little.  And, even better, it doesn’t look like I’m too far from where I left off!  At least on the machines, I’m using the same amount of weight I was three years ago without much strain.  Today I’m getting back on the freeweights, even though I’m sure my form has gone to shit and I’ll probably have to start with 5s and 10s.  Only complaint is the place was a bit crowded, but what do you expect at 5:30?  We’ll see if 4:00 does me any better today.

I did start reading A Game of Thrones yesterday while on the treadmill, but I only got about 10 pages into it.  So no news to report there, sorry.  I’m still working my way through Dune, though, and still really loving it despite having fallen asleep while reading the last two nights.  Not indicative of the novel, just of me being exhausted. 

I wasn’t planning on going anywhere serious with this blog today, but something’s been bugging me all day and I just feel like venting before it stews into anger.  I mentioned earlier that I’m a follower of Amanda Palmer on Twitter; I do this because I think she’s interesting, she’s intelligent, and she’s ballsy.  These are all things I admire in people and hope to cultivate in myself.  Now I don’t give two shits about the Golden Globes, but I did catch the photos of her and Neil on the red carpet and have read some rather snarky postings regarding her outfit and conduct.  I believe the word “famewhore” was tossed around.  And I wanted to grab and shake these commenters violently!  There is a difference between a famewhore attitude and a not-giving-a-fuck attitude.  It may be a blurry one, but it’s there.  And I can understand, in these days of realityTV and people being famous simply for being famous, that people are used to the famewhore celebrity thing and the bitches that sport it (Real Housewives? Jersey Shore?).  But (and permit me to speak about a person like I know them even though I really don’t) I gotta say that from everything I’ve read about the woman, mostly from her own mouth, Amanda Palmer does not strike me as a famewhore.  She is fucked up and weird in the best sorts of ways, talented, creative, and quite a lovely creature, and I think she should be appreciated for those qualities.  And what struck me as ironic is that the commenters and such that were crying “famewhore” also kept repeating the phrase “I’ve never heard of this person” and the like.  I guess what I’m getting at is this: I am so glad I’m not famous.  Because I could see myself getting into many similar situations and cast into a similar pool; I guess not giving a damn should preclude me from worrying about what’s written about me in blogs and on postings, but I think that it would irritate me just a little.  I’d probably act along the lines of Felicia Day in her stand against Vanity Fair: a mature, well-written response explaining my side of things and nicely telling you to fuck off with your ignorant self.  And I guess one of the things that really bugs me is that in both cases (Amanda and Felicia), the prime offenders were women!  And rather than being proud of an intelligent ballsy woman doing what she wants and defining her own happiness, they try to tear her down and belittle her accomplishments.  Can you explain that to me?  I’m not saying we should all lock arms and sing kumbaya and have a big estrogen-fest, but why not give some props to a girl who decides to be more than just a pretty face (even though she’s definitely got one of those too, and a pair of legs to boot)?  Is it ignorance?  Jealousy?  I just can’t understand it.  Whatever it is, I think I speak for a great many when I say “Amanda, I got your back.” 

(That’s when I throw down the microphone and do a Diamond Dave leap off my soapbox.)

Oh yeah, and if anyone has some first-hand (or close) knowledge of hoodoo and/or Hatian voodoo, I’m getting ready to kick off a new screenplay while the other one is lost in the quagmire of not-eve-pre-production.  Shoot me an email or something.  There just might be a pie in it for you!

(Insert clever title here)

And what a looooovely morning!

Every time I say that I hope that Gene Kelley will show up at the door and want to do a dance.  But knowing my luck, it wouldn’t be Gene Kelley a la Singing In The Rain reincarnation but some Monkey’s Paw type shit.  Even still, Zombie Gene Kelley would probably be pretty sweet too…Think I could get him to do Thriller??  Somebody CGI that shit for me. 

Aaaanywho I did promise you I’d tell you about Book of Eli.  I was gonna write a whole review and be all thorough, but then I read Devin’s review on CHUD and it looks like he said pretty much everything that I was gonna say anyways.  So here’s a link to his article which you should read and take to heart.  A few things I’d have to disagree on, like the existence of Mila Kunis in the whole thing.  She was actually a lot better than I expected (I had some pretty low expectations), and I think her relative cleanliness can be chalked up to her being the charge of the richest man in town.  That’s how I saw it, anyways.  There was one little tiny bit of the film that, for some reason, threw me off in an unexpected way; without giving too much away, I’ll say that I think it was the first time we actually find out the character’s name, Eli, and it’s a tiny fleeting thing but for some reason it made me very sad.  Like deep in my soul sad.  I’m not sure if it was a sort of “hero from humble roots” thing, or a “missing civilization” thing, but it made me feel sort of empty.  I can’t explain it well, I’m sorry.   Anyway, let’s move on before I get too depressed.

Also in the newsosphere, I read a rumor today that Jason Momoa is on the short list for the title role in the new Conan the Barbarian movie.  You may not be aware of my almost-embarrassing love for the Conan, and have probably heard about my insane love of the Stargate franchise, so the two of those together would be a gigantic geekgasm for me.  But, as the article clearly states, it’s just a rumor.  Or the basis for some fucked up crossover fanfic!

(As much as I adore the idea, I could never be a fanfic writer.  I can’t even read the stuff.  I think that unexplored relationships are more fun when they stay unexplored.  Nothing against the writers and readers of said fanfic, but I don’t think they can make the payoff beat the tension that I’ve managed to build up in my own head.  Sorry.)

And in my haste yesterday I forgot that I had meant to give a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Johnny T (of Johnny T’s Round Rock BBQ), who celebrated his birth yesterday.  And thank god for that birth, else the world would be much less flavorful, and I wouldn’t know the true joy of sweet potato fries.  He’s a fabulous chef and a fabulous BIL and all around nice guy.  Go eat at his restaurant, it will make your soul happy. 

Well kiddos, it’s Friday afternoon and I’ve got about a thousand things to do before I can leave work, so I must be on my way.  Y’all don’t work too hard, and look for more adventures from Mick and Tara over the weekend.  A little rain won’t hold me down!

bitch bitch bitch

All the skin is peeling off my ears.

Ok, to be more specific, it’s just on the lobes and it’s more flaky than peely.  Now I did just get a stretch done, but it doesn’t seem irritated or inflamed or anything.  Just dry.  I want to just chalk it up to the fact that I’ve been cleaning them with salt water, which will tend to dry things out a bit.  But I’m also a hypochondriac, so a tiny part of my brain says “OMG YOU HAVE EAR CANCER OR LEPROSY OR SOMETHING”.  I’m pretty sure it’s not either of those, but I do have a small fear of infection.  Should I be worried?  Help me Doctor Interwebs!

Also, I can’t stop singing “Beer Run” by Todd Snider.  Welcome to my Monday.


That little row of asterisks there represents the passage of time.  Like 7 hours, actually.  It’s now after 5 and I’m at home watching Cash Cab.  It’s been a hell of a shitty day.  And not for any particular reason, just one of those days where every time the phone rings you want to rip it out of the wall and throw it across the room, preferably at the next person who walks through the door.  I think this cartoon by Natalie Dee sums up my feelings towards today:

Therefore, I’m doing what I do most times I’ve had a shitty day and am in a seemingly-incurable bad mood: I’m dying my hair.  For some reason that almost always seems to make me feel better.  I’m not sure if I feel better because I look better, or maybe it’s just the fumes and chemicals leeching into my skull.  Whatever it is, it seems to do the trick.  I decided to stick with the favorite of late, a sort of fuschia, mostly just to use up the last of the bottle.  Now that it’s done, I do feel marginally better.  This funk  is persistent.  I did just notice, though, that there are three episodes of Mythbusters coming up, and there’s a pizza in the freezer.  There’s also one last zebra cake, which I’m about to devour the shit out of.  I don’t know if you know this, but Zebra Cakes are AWESOME.  You might not think so just from looking at them, you’ve probably passed the box up a hundred times in the grocery store.  It’s okay, you didn’t know, and I’ll forgive you for that.  But next time you’re cruising down the Little Debbie aisle, I strongly suggest picking up a box.  Diet be damned!   

Alright, I have nothing constructive to say today, I’m sure it will just be more bitching.  So I’m gonna go watch guys blow shit up.  With science!


Thursday?  More like TWOsday!

Ok, that was lame.  I’m sorry.  I blame the cold.  That’s right, it’s freezing as fuck in Austin right now, although 90% of the town is inside right now so it’s not a big deal.  Apparently there’s some big football game going on now or something.  Whatever, all I know is that the grocery store was virtually empty, and that’s good news for me.  And after all my shopping and procuring of fine edibles, I’m having garlic bread for dinner.  I like to think I’m just adding on an extra layer of blubber to last me through winter.   Like a narwhal might do.  When in Rome!

But back to the two thing…I got a call from my grandpa yesterday telling me that apparently I have a twin in Austin.  Not a real one, of course, (come on, two Taras?  the world would implode under the weight of the awesome) but someone who looks and sounds just like me, enough that MY OWN GRANDFATHER thought it was me for a minute.  She’s a bartender at Joe’s Crab Shack, which, A-I vowed never to work behind a bar ever again, and B-in all my years of service industry hellholes, I never EVER would have stooped to the level of Joe’s Crab Shack.  Hawaiian shirts?  Kiss my ass.  Loud obnoxious birthday songs?  Fire me, please.  So just in case anyone else is confused, no that’s not me working at the Joe’s on Riverside.  Hell, for all I know this girl and I could just share a passing resemblance, and Poppa was just looking for an excuse to call and chat.  Which is cool, I guess.

Speaking of cool, my cheeks are still partially frozen.  Even a close parking spot feels like miles away when it’s 19 degrees outside.  In my haste/warmth-lust I almost ran a dude down with my cart.  Looking back on it now, I think it might have been someone I used to know years ago.  But then again, I see this person’s look-alikes all the time, all over town.  It’s never actually him, I guess the mustachioed junky musician look is pretty common around Austin. (fyi – I just ran the spell-checker, mustachioed was totally correct, but it doesn’t like the word “junky”.)  I didn’t get a good look at him so I guess I’ll never really know.  And so what if it was?  The right side of my brain says “you should have talked to him!  You guys used to be such good friends!  Wouldn’t it be great to catch up?”  The left side, on the other hand, gives the right side a swift backhand and says “what the hell do you have to say to him?  What would you talk about?”  And when I think about it, I guess I have a lot to say. 

“What have I been up to?  Oh, you know, split with that douchebag I was with, got sober, graduated, got married, wrote some screenplays, just stuff, you know.”

That’s the short version, I guess.  The version I would give to someone in the HEB parking lot in sub-freezing weather.  And were we to sit down over coffee, I would brag my ass off about the awesome guy I’m doing and the stuff I’m married to.  (Ok, that wasn’t so PG, my bad.  Is it wrong to brag about an awesome, stereotype-crushing sex life?  I don’t think so.  Sorry mom.)  And then left brain chimes in again and says “no, there are parts of life that you need to just close the door on.  That is one of them.”  And it’s right.  Some things, some people, don’t need to be revisited.  That little chunk of memory is all tied up in Elliot Smith albums and will never really go away, and it is in happy pristine condition.  Better not to tarnish it with visions of the present. 

And also on the “things that look like people” train, I started a new knitting project tonight.  No, I didn’t finish the mock-designer scarf I was telling you about, almost but not yet.  This idea just came to me this afternoon (thanks to the magic of the twitterverse) and I had to get on it right away.  I hope it is as amazing as I think it will be.  So far it doesn’t look like much of anything.  But when it does, there will be a grand unveiling and you will ooh and aah and request one of your very own.  And I will consider it.

Remember when I said I was eating garlic bread for dinner?  I meant I was eating half a loaf of garlic bread for dinner.  I don’t know, it just kind of happened.  I can already feel retribution gurgling inside me.  Time for Tums and ginger tea.  By the way (this will be my free sponsor for the evening), if you can find somewhere that sells Mighty Leaf Ginger Twist tea, buy it!  It’s awesome.  I have many fond memories of being so very hung over and huddling over a big mug of Ginger Twist tea at Flipnotics, usually surrounded by books on ancient Egyptian history.  Those were good times. 

You’ll hear from me tomorrow if I last the night.

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