Friday, March 19, 2010

omen

it says "may the hat be with you". so appropriate. Ill explain later.

expect to see lots of interesting barrettes from me in the coming days...

Question:


How many days in a row can I eat homemade falafel while on a quest to perfect my recipe.


Answer: at least 4 so


Falafel; it's what's for breakfast. and probably lunch.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Travel Advisory from the big skeezy

Before I start, let me tell you that today is going to be much better, I just know it. I'm conscious of whinging a lot lately, and I have no doubt that today or tomorrow I'm going to have a mad cool peace love and happy post for you. Bear with me. Biegnets and chickory coffee are first on the list, followed by some probably really cool stuff, and some definitely cool walking around. Oh yeah, I'm in New Orleans.

Anyway, I booked in LA for 2 nights and 2 days because I was supposed to have 2 installs, only the second one canceled and it was really expensive to come home early so here I am. The first night of my trip I spent in a town called Thibodaux, which is a small town an hour away from NoLa and had limited options for lodging, but when I checked the pictures on various websites (why do I fall for this every time!?) I decided that hotel B looked like the best bet so I booked it.

I was set to be arriving in Thibodaux at 8 pm or so airport time and transport calculated in as part of the equation, and I figured even if the hotel was bad, it wouldn't be the worst place I've ever stayed (see last trip to LA, which still wasn't the worst I've seen), and anyway the pics on the website looked kind of cute. It was a little weird when I got there, which took longer than planned because in the Bayou the streetlights are not so much, and turns you're meant to take aren't necessarily all marked (which reminds me belatedly that every time I get a rental car, I think "Gee, I get lost a lot. I should get the GPS next time" and yet next time comes and I never do. Huh.)

So I arrive into the lobby, where some dude is hanging out with the desk girl, sees me and leaves and she thanks me because he was creeping her out. You're welcome Little Lady, I do what I can. She's checking me in and creepy guy comes back and she's all (loudly and super helpful) "ok miss. Just one guest, you'll be in room 123" and I'm all "Did you just announce to the creepy dude that I'm here alone and tell him my room number? Did you, Judas? Did you just do that? Really? I'm going to tell him you think he's cute when he comes to kill me." and I take my stupid key and run away, because for real, homeboy was a creep. If he worked there, I would have been very outwardly virtuous and respectful and inwardly waiting for him to start talking to his dead mother.

The hotel helpfully doesn't number the room doors, so you just have to drive around sort of guessing where you're at and getting out every 10 ft or so to check the 2x2 inch sticker under the window to see where you're at. So that was fun, or exciting at least, because people sure are friendly around here. Every time my car pulled up, someone flung open the door. I don't know who they were waiting for, because it wasn't me and I got a lot of doors slammed in my face even though I made a point of smiling. When I finally find my room I see a "lounge" across the way called The G Spot. Wanting to turn my frown upside down, wanting also to stop having work trips where I spend my night in hotels in the ghetto watching NCIS and fearing for my life, and having also recently been reading blogs of people who make the most of such trips, I decide I'm going to mosey over to the G Spot for a beer, because 1) I sure would love a beer, and 2) what a story. I can picture me telling my boss that last night I tipped one back at the G Spot. Oh what a lark it would be, telling this story.

So I give myself a pep talk about being a hermit and not sucking, throw my gear into the room and set out across the parking lot. I'm about 10 ft from the door when I notice they're hiring dancers, which heightens my ever present misgivings, and since I'm not really looking for a second job I decide maybe I could just have a beer tomorrow and that tonight I should stick with plan A which is watching NCIS while I fear for my safety. As a joke, I get into the room and I'm all "ha ha, let me look for bloody hand prints on the back of the bathroom door" and the joke immediately stopped being funny because:

Fucking seriously? Do I collect dead hookers or something?

So, I know that my sample size is small, but I feel comfortable saying that a crime has taken place in every hotel in Louisiana and I have the research to back it up.

I slept fully clothed, knife and phone in hand, because I'm crazy and more than a little neurotic and that's how I roll and in the A.M. I wake up alive and mostly refreshed and head for the shower....which has no water. I would have found that out last night if I had felt comfortable leaving the door unguarded but that aside, I wander down to the front desk and tell the girl and she gives me another key and says "go shower next door" I do love a problem solver, but friends there is not much that is creepier than being in a totally empty hotel room, with none of your belongings or anything. I was totally waiting to be stabbed through the shower curtain, and when that didn't happen I wrapped up and moved on back to my own room to get ready.

The clinic, as they most always are, was pretty awesome and so I'm always reminded of why I end up in the ghetto when I see the clinic running and helping people out and then the day was all better and I trucked back up to NoLa for hotel room number 2, which I already knew was not in the greatest area but was supposed to be decently nice. It's a motel 8 and while it won't be winning any awards anytime soon, it appears at least to have been painted since the last time a hooker was killed here and I felt pretty good about that. I threw my gear down again, had another mental argument about being a hermit and went down to the front desk to talk to the dude about where to eat around here. He directed me to Lucky Jean's seafood and I tried people, I really did. But I was a bit conspicuous in my work clothes and I totally felt weird and then there were signs saying "NO SLEEPING IN LOBBY" "NO SLEEPING IN DOOR" and inexplicably "DO NOT FALL" and again I decided that exploring by little girls in strange cities is best left for daytime, so I ran back to the hotel and ordered a pizza. Being so tired from sleeping with one eye open the night before, I actually did get a decent night's sleep and now here I am, up at crazy early EST time and plotting my day. As I said biegnets and chickory coffee are first. That being done I may check out the D Day museum based on a very enthusiastic recommendation from someone at the clinic, and then the NoMA if I can get in. I'm waiting to hear about whether I can standby on an earlier flight home, but I also am not sure if I want to. I really do want to have some sort of nice time in a strange place for a change instead of always having to run right back home and shower because I'm so glad I'm alive.

So stay tuned, because the next thing I write will be something about how much fun I had. I just don't know how long that will take to happen :o)

Saturday, March 6, 2010

If I tweeted it would say...

that right now I'm in the living room surfing for movies we might like to go see while HN is in the kitchen whipping up salmon jerky with the last of his alaskan salmon. He's also watching a video he bought on recreational tree climbing.

The dude in the video refers to himself as "Treeman", which is pretty spectacular in and of itself, but to make it even better:
1) this dude sleeps in trees sometimes.
2) HN is ordering supplies to do the same. Yep, sometime this summer I will be put on notice that HN is ascending and camping out in the trees behind our house, just because. If you think I won't least briefly consider paintballing him, you don't know me very well at all.

I would also mention that all of this is inexplicably made better by the fact that today while feeding the bees with no beekeeper suit on, HN got stung in the eye so his eyelid is swollen shut and he looks like a cross between Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront, a mongoloid, and Rocky.

I've asked like 100 times if he would yell Adrian and stagger around just a little, which is how I got asked to leave the kitchen and sent into the living room to check out movies in the first place.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

2 legit, 2 legit 2 quit

You're welcome!

Oh man, you guys are missing out on whole periods of my life. I take a million pictures, somehow uploading them to the computer has become a chore so I don't blog about them because why tell a story if you're not going to have pics and then by the time I do upload pics, the story's old and I just don't bother. You deserve better than that, so instead of working today, I'm dedicating my lunch hour to you, the people. All 3 of you.

So this past weekend as previously stated, HN and I went up to NYC to visit with his family. His sister is now home from Haiti and wanted to show everyone her pics and talk about her time there. We were offered accommodations by HN's godmother who is one of the nicest people EVER, but since we couldn't in good conscience kick her out of her bed we decided to rent a hotel nearby. HN put me on hotel patrol and since I love a challenge I set out to find some budget accommodations in the city and came up with the Hotel Gershwin.

Check it out!

Spermtastic!!!

Maybe you agree, but if you don't you're wrong. They did look like giant sperm hanging off the building. The theme continued inside, that one over the door goes all the way in and down the lobby- it's totally a sperm! There's also a HUGE bowl of condoms on the counter, because this is a hotel/hostel and things appear to get freaky on the 12th floor. HN was careful to stay close, lest his junk get fondled invitingly.

The room was definitely budget, but did the trick. Bed, bathroom, tv? check. 79 bucks? I'll take it. Apparently a lot of famous people stay there too, because they had pictures of them all over the hotel:


Sat night was nice, Sunday afternoon we killed at the Museum of Art and Design Slash exhibit, then headed home because I needed cheese and HN had work to do.

I busted out Pioneer Woman's Mac n Cheese, being VERY careful to stick to the recipe and it turned out pretty AWESOME! Who knew quantities really mattered?

Check mah cheese!

What's that? You want to know more about that cheese shredder looking beasty in the background? Why step right up and meet the Original Saladmaster Machine!

It slices, it dices, it shreds, it does other stuff....

I totally scabbed this from my Nana's kitchen when she moved into her new place. Old and foreign cookware is my jam, and she didn't disappoint. This is my greatest treasure. Apparently, my grandfather was a big fan of ordering gadgets out of the back of magazines, and in 1950 he ordered this little gem. I know the exact date because my grandmother's still pissed about it, and though she sometimes forgets the names of her children she will never forget those who pissed her off. Irish Alzheimers we call it.

Anyhoo, the Saladmaster is my shit. I have been known to shred entire bags of carrots just because once you start, it's too fun to stop. Someday I'll have a full on saladmaster infomercial made up for you all.

And speaking of infomercials, I just ordered a flip HD for my nephew. I plan to test it before passing it on, just, you know, to make sure it works and stuff. I've been practicing sounding informative and excited, and haven't told HN why. It's a pretty awesome game. Sometimes he infomercials back without even knowing why he's doing it. I'm fairly certain life is only going to get better once the camera actually arrives.

ShamWOW!

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

No animals were harmed in the making of this post

Because it's Veggie Tuesday! Seriously this time! I ate like a whole cow last week and roughly half a pig so I might even throw in a 3rd meatless day this week to atone. (Maybe veggie tuesday is referred to now as VT? Something must sound cooler, I'll have to think on it. Though VT can be used for Tuesdays and Thursdays, and that's like recycling so maybe that is the answer...)

You might be noticing that the pendulum's swung back the other way and I'm all cheery again. Well, I'm faking it until I make it because I was getting a frown line, but either way you reap the benefits. Today is going to be a total success I just know it! I even entered like 100 internet contests just to prove it. I feel lucky!

Dinner is going to be squash, fennel and onion, which is always outrageously delish and for a side I'm torn between barley pilaf (tempting because it would finish the barley and is delicious, not tempting because I'm eating my way through the most mediocre pot of soup that I made last week in a failed attempt to finish the barley and a bunch of veggies that were going downhill fast and I'm close to barleyed out) and Forbidden Rice in a pilaf of some sort or laced with carrot shreds. and I can't help it, every time I make or say Forbidden Rice, my head goes right to that horrible lambada movie from the 80s and I run around singing a far removed approximation of the song at top volume. Sometimes, I pretend I'm the medicine man and I try to cure Star's ailment with an asp, only I don't have an asp so I have to settle for waving the cat at her while singing the song, which I guess means I'm being both the medicine man and the amazon princess but whatevs: I'm pretty confident I can handle both jobs and the cat doesn't seem to mind. The song really gives me the extra boost I need to make it. That and the 2nd cup of coffee.

In fact, sing with me friends! Seriously. Really good for getting people out of your personal space, and/or your general vicinity. And if you're not convinced that you should watch this clip, here's the movie description:

"An Amazon Indian princess, in an attempt to save her rain forest home from the destructive forces of a greedy corporation, travels to Los Angeles in hopes of convincing the company to change its ways"

It may be 9 minutes of your life that you'll never get back but the song will stay with you for ever.

Now, there's also a fully Spanish version of the song and that's actually the one I sing and I think it's really better in that case that I don't know Spanish. It really adds something.

OMG. martes sin carne ! that is SO the answer! Danger, mystery, manjar.....

Monday, March 1, 2010

a whole new case of the blues

Somewhere in the midst of all my UPS troubles, I also got a new computer. It's kind of a beefcake spec wise, so I was pretty excited. It was delivered to the NC office and twice when I was supposed to go get it I got delayed because of snowstorms so I just got it Friday the 19th and finally opened it Monday when I got home.

It sucks. I didn't want to complain before because I was busy complaining about UPS and my period, so I left Citrix (don't get me started) and Dell(kill me, please) out of it.

The suckage comes from max resolution = not enough because the specs didn't list max resolutions so the guy ordering didn't think to ask and when I finally got it and opened it and called Dell I was told they only help you within 30 days and I had called at 32 days so I am up a certain creek without proper equipment, unless I want to pay 400 beans for a new monitor, which I kind of do but my boss won't let me. Anyway, I put it back in the box and went back to my old crap laptop with the useful display until today when I decided I really should be getting over it. Not 15 minutes into working on it I get this.

Blue skies, nothing but blue skies...



Excellent chance I am putting it back into the box again. Anyone want to buy a slightly temperamental laptop with cartoonishly large font? :o)