Now whose brilliant idea was it that a carbonated beverage would take a nice three-foot plunge through the bowels of the machine right before I want to open it?
Trials, Tribulations & Escapades (mostly funny)
Does it worry me that someone whose IP address shows as the Department of Homeland Security in my logs looked at 25 pages on my website today?
Why yes, I think it does…
(Do I know anyone who works there? Maybe it was the Canada story? I still think it was the shoes…)
I’m in love
I’m in NY and I’m in love.
You see there’s this company, called Fresh Direct, and they will bring you your groceries. And not just the “dry goods” that netGrocer (who I used to love back in the day) used to bring. No, they bring the fresh goods too — the milk, the artisanal cheeses, the orange juice, the spinach greens. But they go one step better than that too — they will bring you whole, already-cooked, ready to heat-and-serve meals — and good ones too!
Jeff (whom I do still love, of course) and I placed an experimental order this week, as I’m working his place and there’s nothing to eat here *and* all the cooking implements are still in boxes(1). Last night we ate the ravioli with slow-cooked tomato sauce and corn-on-the-cob (which we nuked in moist paper towels, my favorite way of cooking corn) slathered with the butter that they also brought (and salt that Jeff nicked from work).
Tonight we’re having roasted lemon-thyme chicken with asparagus and potatoes gratin. Dessert will not be an issue as there’s a gelato place across the street :)
Granted, this is nothing much more different than you can pick up at a Harris Teeter, but (a) there’s a much wider selection of goodies and (b) *they bring it to you*!!!
(1) and not likely to be unboxed soon as they’re now making noises about him moving to Mineapolis. I kid you not.
I often dream that my right knee1 won’t bend properly.
When I’m dreaming I know that lack of mobility isn’t right somehow; that my knee will bend if I only get it moving the right way (though I’m never able to, it seems). I think I’ve also woken up several times knowing that I’d had one of those “knee-won’t-bend” dreams, but I’ve never been able to capture that before it slipped away. Then, a few weeks ago I was talking with Jeff when — all-of-a-sudden (and quite out of the context of the conversation) — I remembered that my knee won’t move in my dreams, but, leery of interrupting the conversation, I didn’t say anything and the realization fell out of my head again. (poof)
Last night I was reading ursulav‘s entry on sleep paralysis when I finally became consciously aware of my strange dream paralysis. I quickly opened my LJ client and typed the first sentence of this entry so I’d be sure not to lose it again (yah me!).
Now, as for what to do with this information: still no clue there.
1 Yes, that is the knee upon which I had surgery. These dreams predate the injury (or at least the more recent and incapacitating injury that prompted the surgery) by years and years though.
Fear ye! Fear ye!
According to the North Carolina Department of Motor Vehicles, I can now ride a motorcycle well enough to be licensed.
Which, for the record, I don’t plan on doing any time soon! Full story behind the cut…
Caution: Objects in Head Are Much Smaller Than They Appear
So, I both love it — and am incredibly chagrined — when things that seem *difficult* and *imposing* and *time-consuming* turn out to be *easy* and *simple* and *quick*.
…Before the recent trip to Europe (I’m going to pimp those pictures every opportunity I get ;-) I had bought a flip-up LCD screen from Hoodman, and the trip was the first time I’d used it (yes, bringing new gear on a trip is Not So Bright, but, anyway…). Sadly, it promptly busted.
Calling them to explain the issue has been on “the list” since I got home. Every few hours I look at the list, think “oh yeah, I should do that now”… and then shy away from it. Silly, really.
So I finally called them all full of trepidation at having to explain how I’d managed to break the little beastie right after getting it and they answer and I start to sidle into the breakage issue, when he said:
“Yep — we had a batch where the assembler stressed that little tab. We’ll send you a new one.”
:-)
and :-( for being so silly in the first place.
Did I mention Tift Merritt was great?
I’m sooooo far behind in blogging (well, in everything, actually). I think I will blame it on getting ready for the annual pilgrimage to Europe sur moto. This year it’s Germany (it always starts there, ’cause that’s where the bike lives), Belgium (the frites and the chocolats are calling me, yea verily), then to Luxembourg City, which is in Luxembourg the country, though as I understand it there’s not much difference between the two. We leave next Friday, the 24th — I can’t wait.
Or I could blame it on being too social. But that would pretty much be a lie, as there’s no such beast for me. Two weekends ago was the Tift Merritt show at the NC Art Museum that I alluded to in the title. We had 15(?) people, who were all friends of mine or friends-of-my-friend-Caroline (or, for that matter, friends of both of ours). We all brought pot-lucky foods, and I busted out the big guns on the cooking scene, making a Cook’s Country recipe for pasta with bacon and ricotta (and other bits) that Heather had recommended; coleslaw (hailed by two different people as the best coleslaw they’d ever put in their mouth! — the trick is using a little rice wine vinegar along with the regular vinegar…it adds a lovely ‘kick’); and two apple pies.(1).
The apple pies were not particularly portable (a fact I’d thought of when I was considering recipe choices, but conveniently forgot when I was making the actual dessert selection), and posed, therefore, posed an engineering challenge. We rose to the challenge by constructing a rather clever, if I do say so myself, Pie Box, consisting of a square cardboard box whose dimension along one side was a wee bit longer than the diameter of the pie, into which we placed four Pie Struts, made of cardboard folded into little prism shapes and taped. These fit quite tidily into the corners of the Pie Box, allowing us to support a “second floor” (made of several layers of cardboard, set cross-grain, cut to the appropriate size and taped together) to hold the other pie. Sadly, due to space constraints with unpacking the food, no one else got to see our clever Pie Box, so this memorial will have to suffice.
Last week I managed to have dinner with my friend Jacintha (followed by ice cream at Coldstone —mmmmm), (which was *really* cool, as we don’t manage to get together nearly enough and this “rescued” a spoiled plans night for each of us!), and my brother, Drew, who was in the state (and who I was seeing) for the first time in two and half years. That was great, and probably worth an entry unto itself (apparently his fiance, Jo, has somehow got me tagged as the “stylish jeans girl”?!), but that’s not going to happen if this is ever to get posted.
The real blame (for the lack of blogginess… you’d lost track, hadn’t you? That’s ok, I don’t blame you. I’d nearly lost track myself), though, I think, belongs to my most recent craft obsession: the sewing of a yukata. I’ve wanted to do this for years, but was finally spurred into action due to a constellation of factors including:
- finally getting the fabric (when I was in New York)
- discovering that I had a kimono pattern already (whilst looking through my pattern stack with Heather for an apron pattern), which is basically a more formal yukata
- just enough free time to think this was a good idea
Pictures (and a proper recounting of the battle, from which I emerged scarred, but victorious) to come (really), but on a day I’m not quite as frazzlepated as I am right now. Amongst the lessons I learned is the fact that fabric does, in fact, come in non-standard widths, and just because the back of the pattern envelope has directions for 45″ wide and 60″ wide fabric, and you know your fabric is wider than 45″, that *doesn’t* mean that it’s 60″. Nope. Not at all. I took the shortage of material as an opportunity to investigate contrast trim, which, in the end, looks quite nice, I think.
Also to come “Stupid Way to Injure Yourself, #113” …
(1) You get something from every experience, I believe. This *amazing* apple pie recipe is what I got from one of my significant ex-others.
ALSO: last chance to vote in the great spectacles debate! Voting closes 9:30am EST Wed.!
The great glasses debate
Quick backstory: having had lasik many, many moons ago, my eyes are pretty darn good. That being said, the computer-all-day thing stresses them out and sometimes by the end of the day I’m 20/25 in my left eye and 20/30 in my right.
Normally that’s so trivial that it’s not worth correcting, except that my vision plan through work has a glasses benefit and the optometrist I saw today (eye checkup, no panic) had some frames that were 50% off, thereby putting them 100% within the allotted benefit amount.
So, basically, free glasses in case my eyes are tired and wonky, so it seems silly not to get them.
There are two pairs in contention (and all other variables are equal, as price is identical. Free.). There is a hair up and hair down photo for each — please, please note, no makeup and no hair fussing was done today, it being mostly a work-from-home day. The shirt isn’t all that flattering either, but I’m desperate for additional opinions.
(old photos have gone missing)
NYC, part III (or II, if you’re not counting the Star Wars thing)
Thursday I headed downtown again to meet my friend Buzzy for dinner and to see the show Alterboyz (real website seems to be hosed, oops). The PATH train took less time than expected so I went around the corner from the Christopher Street station and had The Best Manicure Ever. (If this sort of thing doesn’t interest you — which may very well be everyone but me — tune out temporarily, but I have to write this down so I’ll remember it for next time). Nails were trimmed to correct length, filed so that there were no scratchy bits (tough being that my nails are naturally flimsy and prone to splittage), and painted with base coat, two color coats and top coat. Whenever a little bit got on the ski (inevitable), the nice lady used the tip of her nail (dipped in nail polish remover) to clean it off. End result: perfect nails. Happy Gina.
Nails done, I headed back to the station to meet Buzzy. He and I wandered around Greenwich Village (I think) for a while, browsing (many cute stores) and trying to find a suitable place for dinner. We happened upon a little cafe, wherein I had a wonderful proscuttio and swiss with pesto mayonnaise on Italian bread sandwich. Mmmmm. Will look up place for reference, as it was really delicious (service kinda stank, but I wasn’t in a fussy mood, so I wasn’t incredibly bothered) — ah, wait, here it is Cafe Rafaella) . Then onto Alterboyz, which was fun. Some of the music wasn’t my style (hip-hop, I suppose it was), but anything where there’s five-part harmony is pretty fine by me, so most of it I liked. After the show we wandered around a bit more before Buzzy ever-so-gallantly took me all the way back to the PATH stop so I could find my way home.
Late Friday afternoon, I headed into town for some shopping in the “Fashion District” — not for clothes, mind you, but for beads and buttons and bits with which to make things. I found a wonderful stash of “old stock” (vintage but never used) Swarovski crystals, which called to me so loudly that I had to take some of them home. They’re stunning, but a bit tricky as the back is actually pointed (trivia: this is called a Chaton shape, as opposed to a Flat-Back, which are far more common. I dunno how I’m going to mount these…
Then I met compositeur and Buzzy for drinks at Splash (I’d link to the website, but it’s most definitely not work safe), a very happening gay bar. Drinks were two-for-one (and I can’t resist a bargain), so I had (tasty) cosmopolitans served by a half-naked barman. Since Perry and Buzzy are both from Raleigh and both love music there was plenty to talk about and it was great fun catching up with them both.
After dinner, I toddled down to Craftbar, the little sister of Craft (websites are down) where Jeff and I had reservations at eight. Dinner was very rich, and per norm, I think my eyes were bigger than my head, as the risotto I had for an appetizer, duck with figs I had for dinner and apple tart I had for dessert left me full-to-nearly-bursting. Jeff had a fried softshell crab for an appetizer, rabbit for dinner (don’t remember what was with the rabbit though) and ?? for dessert. Very lame description of the meal, I know, but honestly, the two cosmos and glass and a half of wine I had on an almost empty stomach made the whole thing a bit hazy. Good. But hazy.
Saturday I shopped. I found Mood Fabrics, which had an absolutely astonishing assortment of incredible fabrics and spent two and a half hours there just drooling. Silk satins, the most amazing variety of woolens (I found a beautiful green/turquoise herringbone-ish pattern that desperately wants to become a gored skirt), leathers, prints (on 60″ rolls!)…oh the wanting. I restrained myself (at least a bit) and only bought five pieces.
Then on to MJ Trims for buttons and clasps (just a few, really). Finally, I met Jeff at Spadium, the Korean day spa that we visited for the first time back in October. I <3 this place. The routine runs somethign like this: shower, dry sauna, steam sauna, hot tub, cold tub, scrubbing, face mask, more scrubbing, more face mask, massage, milk rinse, hair wash, hair conditioning, shower again. Here’s the amazing bit: showering is just about the only thing you do for yourself — everything else is done for/to you. I came out with all new soft-and-nice-smelling skin. And, whoa, Nellie! A BARGAIN! < $100 for the whole thing, which was several hours of pampering!
Surreal spa moment: when my nice not-much-English-speaking masseuse started humming Amazing Grace. I hummed too. Love that song.
Sunday was (mostly) a day of rest except for the six hours that I helped Jeff pull cables. Lessons learned:
- It is more than a little difficult for someone who’s slightly dyslexic and fairly “spatially challenged” to correctly diagram existing cable layouts. All those cords, all the same color, all twisting and turning and getting muddled about…eeek. Problem exacerbated by the fact that the numbers were like: 01-02-02 12 vs. 01-01-02 12. Problem further exacerbated by the fact that if you don’t know *how* any given data will be used, it’s hard to ensure that the data are recorded in a useful fashion.
- For someone who *likes* pulling cable, a “3- or 4-hour” project can easily turn into a 5+ hour one
- If you’re tired and sick of something and you think it’s cause you’re bored, check your watch. It could be that you’re tired and bored because you’ve been sitting waiting for cables to be pulled for 5+ hours.
- If you wait until past 9:00 on a Sunday night to eat dinner, the sushi place will be closed. Also, as a corollary, the sushi place is always closed on Monday.
Monday we went into town again and found an adorable French cafe, complete with real French (smoking and everything ;-) Best salad nicoise I have had in *eons* — possibly since I was in France après high school (I dearly wish I could remember where that one was… that the memory of it persists almost two decades later…mmmm). For reference, the café was called “Le Quinze” which, in context, I believe may have had something to do with some sport, as the walls were covered with posters of “le football” and (other?) sports.
We also found (after some about of circumnavigation) Pearl Craft, which I had high hopes for based on Pearl Art; however, it was sadly lacking in much goodness, and was, in fact, less fun than your average Michael’s. :-(
Then airport & home. (BTW, this was *quite* the logistical undertaking. From Jeff’s apartment, we walked to the Path station, from which we took the train to Newark station. Lotsa walking in Newark station (including two ramps that couldn’t have been ADA-compliant), followed by an Amtrak train to Newark Airport. Walking more, then onto the airport train to the terminals. Then security. Then more walking to the actual gate area). Whew. Made me really thankful that Jeff actually comes home on weekends!
More New York updates
Ok, not so much New York specifically, but…
We went to see Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith last night in an “old skool” (not stadium seating) theater in the mall next to Jeff’s apartment.
Yoda is so cute… I just want to scritch behind his ears. ;-)
Amidala had the best line in the whole movie, IMHO: “So this is how democracy(1) dies…To thunderous applause”.
(1) Apparently there’s a bit of controversy (scroll way down) about this line. I swear I heard “democracy” (and quoted that to Jeff afterwards), but the Star Wars WIKIpedia entry and several other sites (like IMDb have “liberty”.
Realm of the Lint Queen 