Monday, October 29, 2007

the kitty likes it!

This morning as I sat at the computer eating my Icelandic yogurt and contemplating whether or not to go to yoga (not), my cat curled up next to me on the desk, making a nest out of a plastic Rite-Aid bag. Horrified, I immediately (ok, a couple hours later) went to the pet store to get him a proper bed. Lo and behold, he's already using it! I think I'm getting better at this cat thing...

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

who'da thunk?

One would think that simply knowing the natural color of raw salmon would prevent one from eating a piece of a salmon maki roll whose contents were more grey than orangey pink--you know, salmon colored--but if "one" in this case is "me", one would be wrong.

Without going into details, I'll just say that my grand plans for a day of errands, cleaning, exercise, and general productivity have been abandoned in favor of lying on the couch reading and sipping various ginger tea products. But this has turned out to be a blessing, because the book I'm reading is nothing less than mind-blowing.

Last night, on a recommendation from a coworker, I took home Zingerman's Guide to Good Eating by fancy-deli-in-Ann-Arbor owner Ari Weinzweig. So far I've read the olive oil and vinegar chapters, and I am downright ashamed that I've worked in a specialty food store for almost half a year and didn't know that the color of an olive depends on how ripe it was when picked, not the variety of olive (though it seems most of the hundreds of olive varieties are picked and sold at a certain degree of ripeness and therefore are generally found only in one color with some natural variation, and if there is no variation than the olive curers probably cheated and dyed them with chemicals), and that real balsamic vinegar only comes from two towns in the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy and costs a lot of money (so that's why that one in the fancy box costs $90...), and the stuff you buy at the grocery store isn't even close.

Anyway, I'm really excited/frightened to read the rest. It's enjoyably and well written, and pretty much every single recipe is so simple and delicious-sounding that I want to run straight to Whole Foods.

Of course, that being said, I'm headed back to the couch to enjoy my Amy's frozen dinner.

Monday, October 15, 2007

as long as i get to go to the cheese board collective in berkeley...

In just six short hours I'll be poorly rested and off to San Francisco, for another wedding. I think it's safe to say that the "holy shit everyone I know is getting married and/or having babies" phase of my life has officially begun. This one's for a cousin I haven't seen since I was eleven, and will be attended by relatives I haven't seen for even longer and people I don't know at all. I'm already envisioning me and the family eccentric, my mom's older brother, whom I last saw when I was two but am told I'll get along well with and who was once a psychiatrist but now lives in the woods and builds furniture and always sent me the best Christmas gifts like Rocky the Real Fur Spring Raccoon and a life-size "The Scream" blow-up doll, drinking in the corner. God I hope he drinks.

Friday, October 12, 2007

dear alexa,


Ooooh, Night at the Roxy. Thankfully, I don't remember a thing about it. But I do remember the wee hours afterward at Abbey Pub, when you became my friend. We were sitting at the bar--you on my right, me in a beige J. Crew sweater, and, in our underage hands, drinks like Sex on the Beach courtesy of a bartender named Brian. I had no idea you'd become one of the most special people in my life, but I knew I had gotten really lucky in the roommate lottery.

That year you introduced me to so many wondrous things, including indie rock, thrift store clothing, coffee, Jewish holidays, hammentaschen, BUST magazine, and suburban New Jersey. You continue to inspire me today, with your post-college perserverance, your beautiful relationship with Dirk (let's just say my eyes were not tear-free when he spoke to you at the wedding today), and, most importantly, your happy and optimistic spirit. I hope you are always smiling too much.

Love,
Gina

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

thank god for yoga

I just paid a visit to the ladies' room (actually, more like the gentlemen's, since I share it with four dudes...aaah the luxuries of basement living) and noticed a fresh banana peel discarded at the bottom of the trash can. My questions to the mystery culprit: 1. Why do you have a banana peel in the bathroom? I'm all for multitasking, but "breakfast" and "morning dump" are not two birds I'd want to kill with the same stone. 2. Knowing that this trash is taken out infrequently (because we all obviously suffer from "surely, someone else will do it soon" syndrome), why would you put anything in there that will be rotten and smelly within a day? And 3., Why do I always have to buy the goddamn toilet paper around here???

And another one for the "other people are annoying" files. So I was just at my coffee place getting my, uh, coffee, when the baker girl parted the line to deliver a roasted pumpkin/squash pie to the baked goods area. She had already cut one slice into sample-size pieces and put it on a plate by the register. There were a good twelve or so bits of pie, and three people in front of me in line. By the time I got to the front, the samples were almost gone, and I observed the guy in front of me say "Wow, this is really good!" and take another piece. What makes you so special that you get two?? At work we frequently put samples out of new things, things we have too much of, almost expired things, etc. The purpose, of course, being for people to have a taste and consider buying them. I would estimate that at least 75% of people do not understand this concept. We've had people just about make a meal out of our samples. If you find this thing so delicious that you simply cannot control yourself in its presence, then, I dunno, perhaps you should buy it? Rather than eating the entire thing so no one else can try it? And causing us to lose money? Ugh.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

i knew taking a nap this afternoon was a bad idea

So Blogger has this nifty new search feature whereby you type in a word and it brings up all your posts containing that word. I was taking a little trip down Blogemory Lane and decided to have a little fun.

Number of posts I've written in the last three and a half years containing the word...

ebay: 13

beer: 59

cheese: 53

Jesus: 31

cheese AND Jesus: 2

dog: 57

cat: 36

hate: 29

love: 127

(Phew! I was nervous about the results of those last two for a second there... Go me! I am a positive person!)

Britney: 5

toenail: 3

and: 593

Aaaaaand I am going to bed now.

ebay my heart

Vintage Hand Made Leather Purse Made of a Real Frog.


I can't decide whether this is cool or creepy.

...

Well...

...

If I bought it, would I actually use it, or just put it on my shelf next to my urinal/vase...

...

Hmm...

...



Creepy.

Saturday, October 06, 2007

a poem

New York City!
Saturday night!

Home alone eatin' PB&J,
And drinkin' Amstel Light.

And I just realized that my PB&J has strawberry jam on it (imported from Armenia, thanks to my employee discount, although I think I like Smuckers more, what with its unnaturally gelatinous texture and added sugar), and I'm listening to the new Animal Collective album Strawberry Jam. There must surely be some deeper meaning here.

I bought Strawberry Jam even though their previous album Sung Tongs was too weird for me because Pitchfork said it was their most "accessible." Sucker. But it's really good, especially the songs "Peacebone" and "For Reverend Green."

Social life resumes next week.

and the nobel goes to...

Speaking of food packaging, I'd like to take a moment to commend the genius behind Go-gurt. Yesterday a snottily-accented British dude came in asking if we sold "drinking yogurt." I don't know whether I just had the tired-giggles, but based on my resultant coworker conversation, I think the world would be a happier place if everyone looked into the mirror each morning and said "gogurt" ten times.

Friday, October 05, 2007

too-oo much *clap clap* time on my hay-ee-ands

Tonight is the fourth I've spent alone in my apartment since I helped the newly-ex boyfriend move out. (After the best sex ever. To every cloud...) Already, my dates with basic cable and assorted Amy's frozen dinners are getting a little old. It shouldn't have taken me four days to realize this, but I've really pretty much forgotten how to have a social life after not having to make any effort on that front for over a year and a half. Working at the restaurant took up most of my nights (either from actually being at work or getting necessarily wasted after a brunch shift,) and the few I had free were spent convincing one of my small number of close friends in the city that Monday is a great night to go out when you have to work 9-6 for the next four days. Since I am not a huge fan of effort and can be quite convincing, this was a satisfying arrangement. So was having an equally socially-challenged boyfriend to hang out with all the time after quitting the restaurant. Sadly, both of those situations required a great deal of drinking.

So here I am, working somewhat normal-person hours, trying not to think about cigarettes and alcohol, and writing lots and lots of To Do's in my pocket notebook. (And eating an absurd number of Belly Flops, the rejected Jelly Bellys. Gotta love the underdog.) In no particular order, here are the plans I've made in the last few days.

*Call Verizon to get them to remove that $15 a month internet feature they suckered me into when I bought my not-at-all-conducive-to-internet basic camera phone.
*Become a certified Pilates instructor.
*Try to attend Pilates class more than twice a week.
*Save up enough change to buy a new computer. And I do mean change, as in coins. This has been the only saving method that has ever worked for me, starting at age five when I proudly amassed enough nickels to make my very first purchase as an American consumer.
*Get tickets for the Moscow Cats Theatre. Immediately.
*Buy those little felt pads for the legs of my furniture so they don't scratch off any more floor paint.
*Wish I'd made that last plan, like, I dunno, right after I spent a whole day painting the floor.
*Repaint the floor.
*Take the Intro to Graphic Design class at SVA next semester and immediately become the world's most sought-after specialty food packaging artist.
*Buy Walter the Cat a nice new toy for just killing the biggest cockroach I've ever seen. Bless his crazy, hyperactive heart.
*Try to remember how to write in a non-list format.
*Organize a Halloween party where only orange and black(rinded) cheeses are served.
*Attend said party as either a slutty farmer, for which I wouldn't need to buy anything other than some kind of paint to create a missing tooth effect and a big bra that I could stuff with ankle socks, or Jeanne Bice of Quacker Factory fame, which would require a bit more work but would be 110% awesome.
*Take pictures of the 800,000 new "eating and drinking establishments" opening within a two-block radius of my apartment.
*Submit resultant blog post to Eater.com and bask in .15 seconds of food-nerd fame.
*Cross off the cat toy plan, since Walter just puked semi-chewed Deli Cat brand cat food on the handle of my purse.
*Find a good ergonomic desk chair.

Aaaand that's about it for now. Aside from the Verizon part, I think all of this could actually happen!

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

wondering

Why, in the New York Times Arts Section's TV listings is America's Next Top Model given the filled-in circle designation as a "New or noteworthy program"? I haven't seen any of the current season yet, but surely tonight's episode will reveal the answer.

And speaking of models, why must the closest and most convenient yoga class (which, of course, is the only one I will ever manage to attend) be taught by a ridiculously skinny yet naturally big boobed J. Crew-esque model and regularly attended by an internationally famous runway model? Don't they know I'm just trying to get, like, some balance in my life, along with more arm strength and relief from chronic lower back pain? I need a sandwich.