In our eating and drinking anniversary festivities, FT and I decided to try Little Dom's in Los Feliz for lunch. We sat at one of the booths in the bar area and enjoyed the warm afternoon sunlight streaming through the expanse of windows. The bartender was our server and he was superb. He was personable, recommended an excellent summer afternoon cocktail (that he prepared with evident expertise) and when it came to dessert, suggested a strawberry polenta shortcake that I nearly finished off without giving FT a taste!
While we were there, we noticed an advertisement for their next Monday night wine tasting. We queried the bartender about it, and found out that they did a wine tasting every Monday night, from wines they usually only sold by the bottle. They run about $15 for a three-wine flight and are available throughout the evening.
We decided to check out the one on the 21st, and invited two other couples to join us. We met at 8 PM and found seats around the bar. Four of us went with the wine flights (a selection of whites from northern Italy), while two of the gentleman decided on beer, albeit Italian as well (Peroni). Our favorite bartender (whose name I have yet to ask) was there again, and was very knowledgeable about the wines he poured. (He also poured generously, a fine trait in a bartender!) Although I am usually a red drinker myself, I quite enjoyed the selection, especially when we paired it with two desserts (a delicious cheesecake and a trio of sorbets). Combined with the pleasure of good conversation, it was another excellent Little Dom's experience.
Unfortunately, I have not been able to attend a tasting since then, but, fingers crossed, I'll be at the tasting this Monday!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Allez-y
What I am trying to find time to do soon:
"Between Earth and Heaven: The Architecture of John Lautner" at the Hammer Museum in Westwood.
"Between Earth and Heaven: The Architecture of John Lautner" at the Hammer Museum in Westwood.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Epicurean: CommeCa
July 3rd was our second wedding anniversary. FT and I spent the day together (obvy) and as usual, tried to do too many things at once. LACMA was shoved to the side in favor of a nap, and the Fairfax Corridor exploration was saved for another day.
But for dinner, reservations had been booked for weeks. I had been looking forward to checking out CommeCa ever since it opened, and couldn't wait to celebrate our anniversary with a wonderful dinner. FT wore jeans and a button down and I busted out the little black dress I had worn at our rehearsal dinner. We were running late (again, as usual) and decided to spring for the valet. I know that end of Melrose can be pricey, but $8? Seriously? That's just ridiculous!
When we walked into the restaurant, the first thing I noticed was how loud it was. I had heard this mentioned in reviews when they first opened, but I had been under the impression it was something they had worked on. (How, I don't know, but I was optimistic.) We ordered a carafe of red wine and the oysters to start, much like we had on our honeymoon. The oyster appetizer came with three different types (don't ask me what they were, I don't remember) and the first set was not so good. Luckily, the other two types were delicious. The bread and butter each table receives was yummy (trust me, some restaurants can even screw up the simple things) and the wine was quite good.
For our entrees, FT ordered the steak frites special and I finally decided on the morel mushroom risotto. While we waited for them to arrive, I checked out the cheese bar and our various dinner companions. It was your usual LA crowd, and I wasn't surprised that we seemed to be almost overdressed compared to the rest of the room. When our entrees arrived, I was dismayed to see that FT's frites were overdone. I tried a taste of his steak, and for all its "28-day aged"-ness, it wasn't worth the price. My risotto was good, but not spectacular.
By this time, the noise level was really getting to me. I tried to ignore it and enjoy FT's company, but it was kind of hard to do when I had to keep asking him to repeat what he had said and then shout my replies. Nonetheless, I can't leave a restaurant without trying their desserts, so we ordered the profiteroles (a personal favorite from my Paris days) and the chocolate cake, both of which were excellent. Thank goodness.
I think if I were to go back, it would only be for dessert and maybe a glass of wine. I didn't find the food equal to its price, and I really can't stress enough how annoying the noise was. But I liked the look of the place and would enjoy bellying up to the cheese bar to see what it's all about.
But for dinner, reservations had been booked for weeks. I had been looking forward to checking out CommeCa ever since it opened, and couldn't wait to celebrate our anniversary with a wonderful dinner. FT wore jeans and a button down and I busted out the little black dress I had worn at our rehearsal dinner. We were running late (again, as usual) and decided to spring for the valet. I know that end of Melrose can be pricey, but $8? Seriously? That's just ridiculous!
When we walked into the restaurant, the first thing I noticed was how loud it was. I had heard this mentioned in reviews when they first opened, but I had been under the impression it was something they had worked on. (How, I don't know, but I was optimistic.) We ordered a carafe of red wine and the oysters to start, much like we had on our honeymoon. The oyster appetizer came with three different types (don't ask me what they were, I don't remember) and the first set was not so good. Luckily, the other two types were delicious. The bread and butter each table receives was yummy (trust me, some restaurants can even screw up the simple things) and the wine was quite good.
For our entrees, FT ordered the steak frites special and I finally decided on the morel mushroom risotto. While we waited for them to arrive, I checked out the cheese bar and our various dinner companions. It was your usual LA crowd, and I wasn't surprised that we seemed to be almost overdressed compared to the rest of the room. When our entrees arrived, I was dismayed to see that FT's frites were overdone. I tried a taste of his steak, and for all its "28-day aged"-ness, it wasn't worth the price. My risotto was good, but not spectacular.
By this time, the noise level was really getting to me. I tried to ignore it and enjoy FT's company, but it was kind of hard to do when I had to keep asking him to repeat what he had said and then shout my replies. Nonetheless, I can't leave a restaurant without trying their desserts, so we ordered the profiteroles (a personal favorite from my Paris days) and the chocolate cake, both of which were excellent. Thank goodness.
I think if I were to go back, it would only be for dessert and maybe a glass of wine. I didn't find the food equal to its price, and I really can't stress enough how annoying the noise was. But I liked the look of the place and would enjoy bellying up to the cheese bar to see what it's all about.
Monday, July 7, 2008
A Person Who Is Fond Of or Greatly Admires France or the French
Last Wednesday, I met my friend FH for a drink after work. We decided to meet at Pastis, a French restaurant on Beverly Blvd that appealed to our Francophile souls. Since we weren't certain that we would be staying for dinner, we decided to sit at the bar. I've found it always pays to get to know your bartender(s), and we weren't disappointed. We had an excellent first drink, thanks to the generosity of the Gallic soul, complimented by appetizers (sauteed soft shell crab for FH and seared peppered Ahi tuna for me) while we caught up on all that had happened in the months since we had last seen each other.
We decided against moving onto dinner, and instead shared a dessert (confit lemon tart with raspberry coulis). One of the bartenders/servers recommended a glass of white wine for FH to try, and a Bordeaux for me. Soon the dessert was polished off, followed thereafter by the wine, and we began to think about leaving. It was the kind of evening that reminds me why I love LA and my friends here, and thus makes me less likely to sigh about how much I miss traveling. There is so much to explore right here at home!
Plus, Wednesday nights at Pastis are "buy one bottle, take home one free," something I'll be sure to take advantage of next time...
We decided against moving onto dinner, and instead shared a dessert (confit lemon tart with raspberry coulis). One of the bartenders/servers recommended a glass of white wine for FH to try, and a Bordeaux for me. Soon the dessert was polished off, followed thereafter by the wine, and we began to think about leaving. It was the kind of evening that reminds me why I love LA and my friends here, and thus makes me less likely to sigh about how much I miss traveling. There is so much to explore right here at home!
Plus, Wednesday nights at Pastis are "buy one bottle, take home one free," something I'll be sure to take advantage of next time...
Friday, July 4, 2008
Epicurean: Creperie by Jack n' Jill's
After our Monday metro adventure, MG and I decided to grab dinner at Creperie, the restaurant in Beverly Hills where a friend of his works. MG frequently eats there when he's in town, but I had been there only once before, for lunch, right after they opened. FT wasn't sure when he would be able to meet us, so we went ahead and ordered. I decided on a bowl of the smoked chicken gumbo, with some of their delicious cornbread and honey butter on the side. MG ordered the savory Quarter crepe, one of his favorites. The chicken gumbo was flavorful, and spicy enough to require refills of my water glass. I tried a bit of MG's crepe, which was covered in Jambalaya sauce, and found it to be spicy as well, but quite good.
FT arrived shortly after we began our meal, and quickly ordered the Magnolia salad. He wasn't overly impressed with it, so we decided to move on to dessert. FT went with the Cinnamon Simple (cinnamon, sugar and butter), I chose a classic sugar-and-butter mix, and MG went with his usual, the Chocolate Banana Cream (Nutella, banana cream, bananas and caramel). All three were delicious, but the portions were huge and no one was able to finish.
I'm hoping to convince FT to return with me sometime, and maybe just make a meal of appetizers and sweet crepes!
FT arrived shortly after we began our meal, and quickly ordered the Magnolia salad. He wasn't overly impressed with it, so we decided to move on to dessert. FT went with the Cinnamon Simple (cinnamon, sugar and butter), I chose a classic sugar-and-butter mix, and MG went with his usual, the Chocolate Banana Cream (Nutella, banana cream, bananas and caramel). All three were delicious, but the portions were huge and no one was able to finish.
I'm hoping to convince FT to return with me sometime, and maybe just make a meal of appetizers and sweet crepes!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Metro: Gold Line / Mission
In an effort to be more proactive, I dragged MG on a metro adventure yesterday. He had never been on the LA subway (didn't even know there was one, until this past weekend) so we hopped on at Westlake and rode the Red Line to Union Station. From there we took the Gold Line to the Mission stop in South Pasadena.
The thing is, most things in South Pas are apparently closed on Mondays... Ah well. We made the best of it, stopping at Nicole's Gourmet Foods for a brioche (me) and crème brulée (him), and then walking up El Centro to the Fremont Centre Theatre before looping back to Mission.
Book'em Mysteries book shop was closed, but I'll definitely be making a trip back to check out their collection. We stopped in at Mission Wines, which just so happened to be open, and I asked about wine tastings, because it'd be awesome to take the metro and not have to drive! (What's that you say? It's wine tasting, not guzzling? Hmm, something to think about...) The afternoon was a little warm, so MG and I stopped at Buster's Coffee and Ice Cream Shop for some cool refreshments before hopping back on the Gold Line.
We got off at the Chinatown stop, so MG could see a little bit of the area. But my knowledge of what to do and see in Chinatown is limited, so we just walked south on Broadway and popped into a few stores to see if I could find some green tea powder ($18.99 in the first store, 9.99 in the second store and $45.00 in the third, all for approximately the same size. WTF?!) When we hit Cesar Chavez, we headed east and wove our way through Olvera Street (it's the birthplace of Los Angeles, you know) on our way to Union Station, and the Red Line back home.
Things I've learned for next time: Go to South Pas on any day but Monday! Also, when a well-dressed man with creepy eyes sitting next to you on the subway introduces himself to you, give him a fake name, because it's really creepy when you run into him at Olvera Street and he calls you by name.
The thing is, most things in South Pas are apparently closed on Mondays... Ah well. We made the best of it, stopping at Nicole's Gourmet Foods for a brioche (me) and crème brulée (him), and then walking up El Centro to the Fremont Centre Theatre before looping back to Mission.
Book'em Mysteries book shop was closed, but I'll definitely be making a trip back to check out their collection. We stopped in at Mission Wines, which just so happened to be open, and I asked about wine tastings, because it'd be awesome to take the metro and not have to drive! (What's that you say? It's wine tasting, not guzzling? Hmm, something to think about...) The afternoon was a little warm, so MG and I stopped at Buster's Coffee and Ice Cream Shop for some cool refreshments before hopping back on the Gold Line.
We got off at the Chinatown stop, so MG could see a little bit of the area. But my knowledge of what to do and see in Chinatown is limited, so we just walked south on Broadway and popped into a few stores to see if I could find some green tea powder ($18.99 in the first store, 9.99 in the second store and $45.00 in the third, all for approximately the same size. WTF?!) When we hit Cesar Chavez, we headed east and wove our way through Olvera Street (it's the birthplace of Los Angeles, you know) on our way to Union Station, and the Red Line back home.
Things I've learned for next time: Go to South Pas on any day but Monday! Also, when a well-dressed man with creepy eyes sitting next to you on the subway introduces himself to you, give him a fake name, because it's really creepy when you run into him at Olvera Street and he calls you by name.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Recommendations: Wanted
JC and I went to see Wanted at the ArcLight last night. I didn't know much about it, only that it featured Angelina Jolie and James McAvoy. She's gorgeous and he's hot, so that was enough for me. The start was a little rough, but I understood what they were going for and they only narrowly missed it. It was full of action (it totally made me want to be an assassin!) and a few surprises, although those of you who have read the graphic novel may not jump or shriek as much. (Actually, and you'd have to ask JC to confirm, I may have been the only person in the theater jumping and shrieking, but whatevs...) Besides, the guy who plays James McAvoy's father is pretty hot too, if that sort of thing sells you. Otherwise, have I mentioned how gorgeous Angelina is?
(Side bar: Although this was not always the case, I must admit- I love the ArcLight. Online ticket purchasing and assigned seating means you can show up just in time to catch the previews and know that you can have the center middle seats you prefer. Plus, stadium seating means that tall, fat guy in front of you won't be blocking your view with his chrome dome.)
A Range of Different Things
At the pizzeria's new location in Hollywood, we see an interesting cross-section of the population. The first time that I took the subway home (it was a Saturday afternoon), I was at the intersection of Hollywood and Vine. The surrounding sidewalks were quite crowded with people in masks, holding signs denouncing Scientology, saying things like "Scientology Destroys Families" and so forth. I found it interesting that they were all wearing masks, as though they were afraid of ramifications in their daily lives should any Scientology members recognize them.
There's a drama school right down the street, where the bulk of our lunchtime customers come from. They sing and dance in the aisles and generally dress in an interesting fashion. There's also a guy who's all tatted up, and orders pizza without cheese all the time because he's vegan. My coworkers and I are positive that one girl who comes in is a prostitute, given the number of afternoons each week that she escorts a somewhat-unattractive gentleman into the hotel across the street, only to exit separately about an hour later.
And last weekend a regular customer came in and we got to talking about LA tap water. He preferred bottle water, but I explained that LA had won an award for its tap water, which he found difficult to believe. Then we moved on to why drinking hot tea in hot weather is supposed to make you feel cooler, although no one knew why. After he'd gone home, he called us to tell us that he had done some research and that although LA water had won a blind taste-test, it didn't mean it was actually good for us to drink.
Although the money isn't as good as the original location, I do appreciate how much larger the new place is. And now that I'm getting to know the regulars, it's starting to get that local, family restaurant feeling too. And if nothing else, it provides fodder for this blog!
There's a drama school right down the street, where the bulk of our lunchtime customers come from. They sing and dance in the aisles and generally dress in an interesting fashion. There's also a guy who's all tatted up, and orders pizza without cheese all the time because he's vegan. My coworkers and I are positive that one girl who comes in is a prostitute, given the number of afternoons each week that she escorts a somewhat-unattractive gentleman into the hotel across the street, only to exit separately about an hour later.
And last weekend a regular customer came in and we got to talking about LA tap water. He preferred bottle water, but I explained that LA had won an award for its tap water, which he found difficult to believe. Then we moved on to why drinking hot tea in hot weather is supposed to make you feel cooler, although no one knew why. After he'd gone home, he called us to tell us that he had done some research and that although LA water had won a blind taste-test, it didn't mean it was actually good for us to drink.
Although the money isn't as good as the original location, I do appreciate how much larger the new place is. And now that I'm getting to know the regulars, it's starting to get that local, family restaurant feeling too. And if nothing else, it provides fodder for this blog!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
A Feeling of Grudging Admiration
Although I have been loathe to do any form of exercise since I returned from my trip, yesterday I pulled myself away from my laptop long enough to go climbing at Rockreation with my friend KAW. We've been climbing partners for years, and are very well matched. About the same height, weight and climbing skill; similarly afraid of hard leads but wickedly competitive; and of course, both willing to spend 3/4 of the time chatting and 1/4 climbing.
She hadn't climbing since the last time we went M'ville in early April, so we started out on some easy 5.8 and 5.9 routes. The first few seemed awkward rather than hard, and we made more than a few derogatory remarks about gym climbers versus real climbers. After our little cove was invaded by rude children (seriously, they were old enough to know that you don't scramble around on the wall under another climber, or stand on the ropes), we moved onto the next batch of climbs around the corner. KAW hauled herself up another awkward 5.9 and I followed, barndooring into the perpendicular wall at one point. (Graceful, I am not.) As we untied and contemplated what to climb next, a young girl climbing to our right shouted to an instructor belaying on our left. She said, "Hey N, is that your 5.11a?" To which he responded, "yeah." "Well, f*ck you very much!" she exclaimed, adding, "I can do 5.11b, but 5.11a always gives me problems!"
I looked at KAW, and asked her what she wanted to climb next. "Something over there," she replied, pointing to the opposite side of the gym. We sped away from super climbing child and managed to eek out two more climbs before calling it a night and heading to dinner with F, where we all enjoyed our much deserved alcoholic beverages.
I think the most frustrating aspect is that there was a time when I was a pretty good climber. I have actually climbed 5.11a and 5.11b before, although, admittedly, not on a regular basis. And I used to lead pretty hard too. But now fear seems to have seeped into my aging bones and I find it hard to push beyond a comfortable 5.9. I know I can't commit myself to the climbing bum life (that ship sailed a good six years ago, when I decided to go back to school), but it sure would be nice to climb a little more regularly, and with more confidence. I know I have the skill, I just need to regain the strength and conquer the fear.
Huh. It occurs to me that there may be a moral in there in regards to my writing...
She hadn't climbing since the last time we went M'ville in early April, so we started out on some easy 5.8 and 5.9 routes. The first few seemed awkward rather than hard, and we made more than a few derogatory remarks about gym climbers versus real climbers. After our little cove was invaded by rude children (seriously, they were old enough to know that you don't scramble around on the wall under another climber, or stand on the ropes), we moved onto the next batch of climbs around the corner. KAW hauled herself up another awkward 5.9 and I followed, barndooring into the perpendicular wall at one point. (Graceful, I am not.) As we untied and contemplated what to climb next, a young girl climbing to our right shouted to an instructor belaying on our left. She said, "Hey N, is that your 5.11a?" To which he responded, "yeah." "Well, f*ck you very much!" she exclaimed, adding, "I can do 5.11b, but 5.11a always gives me problems!"
I looked at KAW, and asked her what she wanted to climb next. "Something over there," she replied, pointing to the opposite side of the gym. We sped away from super climbing child and managed to eek out two more climbs before calling it a night and heading to dinner with F, where we all enjoyed our much deserved alcoholic beverages.
I think the most frustrating aspect is that there was a time when I was a pretty good climber. I have actually climbed 5.11a and 5.11b before, although, admittedly, not on a regular basis. And I used to lead pretty hard too. But now fear seems to have seeped into my aging bones and I find it hard to push beyond a comfortable 5.9. I know I can't commit myself to the climbing bum life (that ship sailed a good six years ago, when I decided to go back to school), but it sure would be nice to climb a little more regularly, and with more confidence. I know I have the skill, I just need to regain the strength and conquer the fear.
Huh. It occurs to me that there may be a moral in there in regards to my writing...
Monday, June 23, 2008
A Spanish Word Meaning District or Neighborhood
I have Sundays and Mondays off from the pizzeria, and I've settled into a routine where Sundays are my laze around days, and Mondays my de facto errand days. So, F and I met my friend JD, whom I hadn't seen since before I left in April, at Farmers' Market yesterday. It was blazing hot, so we drove the two blocks north to the Larchmont Lofts, to check out the apartments for sale. Although we'd love to buy something, we're definitely not in the market right now, but it was fun to pretend. There was one unit we all liked, something they called a 2-bedroom, 2-bath (although I would take issue with the 2nd "bedroom" being described thus) so we asked the real estate agent about it. Only $895,000... Holy crap!
I was up a little after 7am this morning, and have been running around like an overachiever on speed since then. (Maybe it was the somewhat large quantity of iced coffee I consumed on an empty stomach...) I was at Trader Joe's right after they opened at 9am, which was after I had started three loads of laundry. Then it was back home to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer and then upstairs to put the groceries away, make buttermilk waffles, send out emails, prepare some food for the week and spend the requisite amount of time on gchat, freaking out about the half Ironman I'm supposed to do in 75 days. (Thanks JPD for the countdown!)
Amidst my food preparations, I realized I needed ground chipotle pepper and rubber gloves. (What, my hands are getting really dried out from all the dishes I've been washing!) I walked down the street to the Big "6" Market and found some New Mexico chili powder, and decided to make a go with that. I couldn't find the gloves though, so when I got to the counter, I asked the guy at the register. He went and found them for me and I set off. When I got back home, I realized that the gloves came in different sizes, and he had given me the large ones. WTF?! Is he saying I have big hands?!
But seriously, I love being able to walk down the street to get some household goods. And in the elevator today there was a flyer up for the opening night of Levitt Pavilion, on the NW corner of MacArthur Park, where they hold concerts Wednesday through Sunday in the summer. I've already checked out the schedule, and there are quite a few that I'm excited about. (The best part is, we can hear the music from our apartment, so we don't even have to leave home if we don't want to!) And tomorrow, since I have to be at the pizzeria by 1pm, I am going to stop at Mama's Hot Tamales on the way to the subway for a cup of organic, fresh-roasted coffee and a tamale!
I have to admit, I was bummed when SC told me he wanted me to work at the new Hollywood location. But ultimately, it hasn't been too bad- I get to take the subway to and from work (which saves money on gas, parking meters and the inevitable parking tickets and allows me to read while I commute), I'm working with TJ again and I have my mornings free to write. Oh damn, I better get on that!
I was up a little after 7am this morning, and have been running around like an overachiever on speed since then. (Maybe it was the somewhat large quantity of iced coffee I consumed on an empty stomach...) I was at Trader Joe's right after they opened at 9am, which was after I had started three loads of laundry. Then it was back home to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer and then upstairs to put the groceries away, make buttermilk waffles, send out emails, prepare some food for the week and spend the requisite amount of time on gchat, freaking out about the half Ironman I'm supposed to do in 75 days. (Thanks JPD for the countdown!)
Amidst my food preparations, I realized I needed ground chipotle pepper and rubber gloves. (What, my hands are getting really dried out from all the dishes I've been washing!) I walked down the street to the Big "6" Market and found some New Mexico chili powder, and decided to make a go with that. I couldn't find the gloves though, so when I got to the counter, I asked the guy at the register. He went and found them for me and I set off. When I got back home, I realized that the gloves came in different sizes, and he had given me the large ones. WTF?! Is he saying I have big hands?!
But seriously, I love being able to walk down the street to get some household goods. And in the elevator today there was a flyer up for the opening night of Levitt Pavilion, on the NW corner of MacArthur Park, where they hold concerts Wednesday through Sunday in the summer. I've already checked out the schedule, and there are quite a few that I'm excited about. (The best part is, we can hear the music from our apartment, so we don't even have to leave home if we don't want to!) And tomorrow, since I have to be at the pizzeria by 1pm, I am going to stop at Mama's Hot Tamales on the way to the subway for a cup of organic, fresh-roasted coffee and a tamale!
I have to admit, I was bummed when SC told me he wanted me to work at the new Hollywood location. But ultimately, it hasn't been too bad- I get to take the subway to and from work (which saves money on gas, parking meters and the inevitable parking tickets and allows me to read while I commute), I'm working with TJ again and I have my mornings free to write. Oh damn, I better get on that!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
To Put Off Intentionally and Habitually
I returned from SE Asia on Thursday, May 29th. I planned on dedicating the next three days to sleeping and F, in no particular order. On Monday, June 2nd, I was determined to begin writing about my adventures, submitting story ideas and updating my resume. Instead, I came down with a fever. No matter, I thought. Once I am feeling better, I'll get right on it.
But I didn't. There was too much to do, too many people I wanted to see. Shifts at the pizzeria to be worked. Then there was the problem of me not having a desk on which to place my laptop with which I would commence the writing, submitting and updating. So I put it all off while I searched craigslist. Finding a desk turned out easier than I might have expected, and this past Monday, I was able to set it up in my little corner of the apartment.
But the apartment needed to be cleaned and de-cluttered before I could sit down and concentrate. So I began that process, only to be delayed by the bathroom sink breaking, which meant the maintenance guys had to come in, drag dirt everywhere and punch a whole through the bedroom wall. Now they're waiting for the patch to dry, so they can come in and paint over it. And really, they need to repaint the whole bedroom, so it matches. And they might as well paint the living room too, don't you think?
Cleaning will have to wait. Well, then, I guess I could just write. Oh wait! My birthday is coming up, I need to send the evite! I had better work on that. Oh, wow, that didn't take long. I guess I could send it now. Except, the text is all mushed together. I had better ask an evite-expert friend how to make that work. Better send her an email and save that draft.
What now? Writing? No, because I've been thinking, this desk situation would be much better if I had a cork board on which to place inspirational words and images. Hmm. I wonder where the best place to get cork boards is? Target? Crate & Barrel? And while I'm at it, a wastebasket would be really helpful too. And maybe a separate mouse and mouse pad, since the track pad on the laptop can get a little annoying...
Wait, what am I supposed to be doing? Crap! It's time to head to the pizzeria!
But I didn't. There was too much to do, too many people I wanted to see. Shifts at the pizzeria to be worked. Then there was the problem of me not having a desk on which to place my laptop with which I would commence the writing, submitting and updating. So I put it all off while I searched craigslist. Finding a desk turned out easier than I might have expected, and this past Monday, I was able to set it up in my little corner of the apartment.
But the apartment needed to be cleaned and de-cluttered before I could sit down and concentrate. So I began that process, only to be delayed by the bathroom sink breaking, which meant the maintenance guys had to come in, drag dirt everywhere and punch a whole through the bedroom wall. Now they're waiting for the patch to dry, so they can come in and paint over it. And really, they need to repaint the whole bedroom, so it matches. And they might as well paint the living room too, don't you think?
Cleaning will have to wait. Well, then, I guess I could just write. Oh wait! My birthday is coming up, I need to send the evite! I had better work on that. Oh, wow, that didn't take long. I guess I could send it now. Except, the text is all mushed together. I had better ask an evite-expert friend how to make that work. Better send her an email and save that draft.
What now? Writing? No, because I've been thinking, this desk situation would be much better if I had a cork board on which to place inspirational words and images. Hmm. I wonder where the best place to get cork boards is? Target? Crate & Barrel? And while I'm at it, a wastebasket would be really helpful too. And maybe a separate mouse and mouse pad, since the track pad on the laptop can get a little annoying...
Wait, what am I supposed to be doing? Crap! It's time to head to the pizzeria!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Nachos and Wine
I'm suffering a little bit from middle class, educated, disaffected youth syndrome these days. You know, where you whine about "finding yourself?" The original plan for when I got home from my big adventure was to work a little at the pizzeria while submitting articles and story ideas to various magazines. But here it is, three weeks later, and I've only just got my desk set up.
A few days after I got back, I got really sick with a flu-type thing. I had a 103 degree temperature, chills, a cough, the whole shebang. And it really hit me- my mom was right, I need health insurance. And here I had selfishly quit a job that provided not only a steady paycheck but also benefits for my husband (F) and me. All for what? So I could find myself?
The thing is, F is freelance. And if by some miracle I am able to become a published writer, then I will be freelance as well. This means uncertain pay periods, paying for health and life insurance out of pocket and always wondering if the whole house of cards is about to collapse around us. F's been trying to get his career off the ground after helping me get through school, so it's not really fair to ask him to work more so I can waste my hours slinging pizza for minimum wage while I try like countless others to get published.
But shouldn't I give it a shot? Shouldn't I at least try to get published? Writing is the only thing I've wanted to do since I was probably eight. (No, seriously, my mom has copies of a play I wrote for my cousins and I around that time.) But there's still this nagging voice that speaks ever so quietly, reminding me that my 29th birthday is rapidly approaching (shameless birthday plug: look for an evite in your inbox soon for Saturday, July 5th), as I spend my hours hosting at the pizzeria and cleaning my desk, and the whole house really, which apparently I think will make the whole writing process, well, proceed.
I guess the question I struggle with is this: How hard and how long do you try at your dreams, and when do you accept reality and settle for the comfy desk job with benefits, regular hours and a steady paycheck?
(P.S. Nachos and Wine = my dinner this evening. Classy, I know.)
A few days after I got back, I got really sick with a flu-type thing. I had a 103 degree temperature, chills, a cough, the whole shebang. And it really hit me- my mom was right, I need health insurance. And here I had selfishly quit a job that provided not only a steady paycheck but also benefits for my husband (F) and me. All for what? So I could find myself?
The thing is, F is freelance. And if by some miracle I am able to become a published writer, then I will be freelance as well. This means uncertain pay periods, paying for health and life insurance out of pocket and always wondering if the whole house of cards is about to collapse around us. F's been trying to get his career off the ground after helping me get through school, so it's not really fair to ask him to work more so I can waste my hours slinging pizza for minimum wage while I try like countless others to get published.
But shouldn't I give it a shot? Shouldn't I at least try to get published? Writing is the only thing I've wanted to do since I was probably eight. (No, seriously, my mom has copies of a play I wrote for my cousins and I around that time.) But there's still this nagging voice that speaks ever so quietly, reminding me that my 29th birthday is rapidly approaching (shameless birthday plug: look for an evite in your inbox soon for Saturday, July 5th), as I spend my hours hosting at the pizzeria and cleaning my desk, and the whole house really, which apparently I think will make the whole writing process, well, proceed.
I guess the question I struggle with is this: How hard and how long do you try at your dreams, and when do you accept reality and settle for the comfy desk job with benefits, regular hours and a steady paycheck?
(P.S. Nachos and Wine = my dinner this evening. Classy, I know.)
Monday, June 16, 2008
The Fairer Sex
Reasons why I sometimes wish I was a boy:
1. The ability to pee standing up.
2. Flow, and all her exciting friends- PMS, cramps, etc.
3. Less likely to be harassed walking down the street.
4. Howard Stern- I feel like I'd get the appeal if I had a penis.
5. GQ magazine
1. The ability to pee standing up.
2. Flow, and all her exciting friends- PMS, cramps, etc.
3. Less likely to be harassed walking down the street.
4. Howard Stern- I feel like I'd get the appeal if I had a penis.
5. GQ magazine
Friday, June 13, 2008
Something New Every Day
Things I learned on my Big Adventure that may help me in my day-to-day life:
1. You can't plan for everything. Sometimes you have to "Adventure Race It" and just show up at the airport, pick a destination and find a flight.
2. Bugs are nothing to be scared of. (Bloody hand prints are another matter...)
3. Even with sunscreen on, you can still get burned. Reapply, reapply, reapply!
Things I adapted to that may harm me in some way now that I've returned to the states:
1. Ignore the car horns. They're probably just some taxi wanting to give you a ride.
2. Toilet paper goes in the wastebasket, not the toilet, silly! (Note: if the airlines can figure out how to dispose of toilet paper that has been flushed on airplanes, why can't all of SE Asia figure it out?)
3. Six weeks of vacation isn't nearly long enough.
1. You can't plan for everything. Sometimes you have to "Adventure Race It" and just show up at the airport, pick a destination and find a flight.
2. Bugs are nothing to be scared of. (Bloody hand prints are another matter...)
3. Even with sunscreen on, you can still get burned. Reapply, reapply, reapply!
Things I adapted to that may harm me in some way now that I've returned to the states:
1. Ignore the car horns. They're probably just some taxi wanting to give you a ride.
2. Toilet paper goes in the wastebasket, not the toilet, silly! (Note: if the airlines can figure out how to dispose of toilet paper that has been flushed on airplanes, why can't all of SE Asia figure it out?)
3. Six weeks of vacation isn't nearly long enough.
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