October is a time that I allow myself to be frightened of things…a time that I let myself get “the willies”.
A few things that frighten me:
1. The possible combination of peanut butter and mint. Have you had it? No, you decidedly have NOT…and there is a reason…
2. The graphic novel (originally a 4 book run)…Stray Toasters by Bill Sinkiewicz being made into a movie. Live action or animated, I am horrified of what they might do to the disturbing story and imagery.
3. Clowns…which is why I am going to be one for Halloween this year. I hope I don’t throw something at my reflection out of fear or have a panic-attack while putting on my make-up. If I had those “whole-eye” contacts in black or royal blue then it would be all over and I would literally die.
4. Slugs, earth-worms and Annelids in general.
5. Turkeys. Whenever I think I have beaten this fear, something happens involving a turkey that brings it all back.
6. Meth-addicts. Meth Addicts and plastic surgery. Meth addicts with plastic surgery.
7. A broken Hollandaise sauce….the Horror!!!!!
8. Migas with queso poured ontop.
9. The idea of not being able to have clean drinking water. I’ve thought about this and how un-nerving it would be to only have access to water that has the scent of sulfur and and at the very least floating particles and cloudiness. For me the question is not “How long could you live under Zombie Attack?” or “How long would you live in that plane crash in the Andes?”…it’s “How long could you live if you had to pull chunks of hair out of your water.”
10. Finally, plaid patterned jackets that do not line up at the seams. If you cannot afford the plaid Chanel jacket, do not buy something that looks like it.
As I write this I am being handed a decaf and a Tramadol by my mother while I sit in bed....smacked in face by the stark white computer screen while I lounge in the middle of a comfy softly lit guestroom.
This is my home for another month as I recover from hip surgery. My place is two stories...with both full baths upstairs. My Man's is a condo near downtown onthe third floor. Oh, and I have a dog that needs walking. All of this leads to me staying with the fam.
It's amazing how little you can appreciate independance until it is gone. Apparently I am STRONGLY independant and was not really that aware of it.
Now, to be fair, my situation with the parents could not be better. I like them and they like eachother....and we laugh alot...except not about the blog "fiction" I wrote the entry before this. Mom was not amused.
Observations during a convalescence:
1. I have worn heels for so much of my adult life that I literally feel as if I am falling backwards when I wear flats. My pants are all dragging on the floor when I don't have the heels on.
2. I have spent a majority of my life making fun of people in flip flops and going on and on about how "if you wore those to a punk show with liberty spikes in my day, you would have had your ass kicked." My most comfy shoes right now are flip flops.
3. Stairs are a luxury. Being able to run up and down my stairs at my place 6 or 7 times in an evening is nothing. "Oh, I need to get an index card." "Oh, I don't want to wear this shirt anymore...I want one from upstairs." "Oh, I don't remember what I need, but it's upstairs." I simply cannot get up there quicker than a minute or two, and can't carry anything in either direction.
4. I want a coffee. I can make it in the kitchen. I can stand there and look at it, because I cannot carry it anywhere to drink it.
5. Food. See number 4.
6. Intimate adult time....if we are talking about watching a movie on my laptop with my special man friend in the guestroom as my Mom continually drops in to bring snacks and tea...then Intimate Adult Time is perfect. If we are talking about anything else...then it's a bust.
7. Doors are hard to open. If they are heavy at all I have to hop in the way after I fling it open and stop it closing with my body.
8. Children are staring at me. I makes me want to do one of two things. First, I should act like a professional athlete would got hurt and have a great attitude and smile and pat the kid on the head and tell them to take their vitamins. Second I want to smack em in the shin with my crutch and then say, 'Oh NOOOOOO....what did I do?????" hehehe
9. If you pick a fight with your captor you cannot get away. Remember that movie Misery...
10. It's only another month....I'll survive. And as soon as I can put on the crazy shoes....oh, I'm putting them on!
I’m pretty sure that Mike get’s never-ending joy over making fun of my name. I wanted a simple name growing up. I wanted a name that helped me blend into the herd instead of one that instantly made a room of nearly comatose children change into a pack of monsters with fake European accents screeching, “Naaaataaaashaaaaa!”
So far it’s been less than a full week since I’ve been trapped at my parents’ house, and I’m not sure if I can handle another one. It seems to be constant chaos here with the folks and my brother, with my parents trying to entertain me in every waking moment, and with this hobbled leg there is no escape. This morning I called out from the bathroom to say, “Don’t come back here! The door is open and I’m naked because the vent isn’t working and it is a million fucking degrees back here!” Within 2 minutes everyone in the house had come back to investigate. “You said what?” “Do you need more towels?” “You are going to regret shaving there….”
One thing I did learn today is that hatching a plan whilst under the influence of Oxycodone, Tramadol and Roxicet is never a good thing. You’re lying there in bed half-asleep, thinking of something that may be a memory, a dream, something from a movie??? Was is funny or tragic…real or imagined? In this dream/memory there was a troubled family on a road trip in some sort of a chartered bus situation.
A pudding fight ensues. Of course, like all food fights, this ended with everyone exhausted and smiling and steeped in an atmosphere that screamed, “Wow guys! We’ve learned so much about eachother and about whimsy and about happiness! We’ll use this day to go forward in the world and in life with a positive attitude and a new purpose to share with humanity!”
Today’s lunch was the first day I’ve been able to get to the table with my walker….and once there, dripping with sweat and beet red, it was all I could do to force a smile and keep my mouth shut.
Out came the Mac and Cheese. Oh…the horror. I’m a bit of a foodie which is a real real problem when staying with Mom. While all I want is the simple and tasty home cooking I grew up with, now Mom insists on trying to wow me with fancy new recipes with Gastro-techniques that should never be eaten…at home or in a restaurant. Parsnip foam? Chive Gelee? Corn-Beef Puree?
I remember Mom’s Mac and Cheese as a kid…never from the box…a beautiful golden baked gooey triumph! What sat in front of me today was an abomination to all cheeses. “It’s melted blue cheese and Oricchiette pasta. That means ‘little ears’ in Italian…because they look like little ears…the pasta.” “Mom, is that just blue cheese? I mean, it’s ALL blue cheese?” “Yes, why?” “You know, Mom, restaurants add a little blue cheese to a regular melted cheese base for a little flavor punch…not all blue cheese.” “Yeah? Well this one goes to Eleven. Mike that’s from Spinal Tap. It’s funny. It’s one louder. Eleven.”
My timing was perfect. I took a spoonful of the mess and flung it at my Mother’s shoulder where it made a more than satisfying “Schmack!” sound. I then waited for the Happiness and goodwill towards mankind “feeling”.
She shrieked. I guess it was really REALLY hot…and viscous. I quietly thought to myself, “Yes, that one went to eleven.”
“What’s wrong with you! Why do you have to be so awful. We’re just trying to help you out while your leg is healing. If you were married now we wouldn’t have to do this. Why aren’t you married again?” “Mom, you should count her pills…I bet she’s taking too many.” Mike looked and me after he said it and mouthed, “DOOFUS” silently.
Mom cleared the table while crying and sniffling. Once she left the room Mike took a reserved spoonful of the Mac and Trash and flung it into the corner, under the curtain, where it would not be found for days and would then be blamed on me. While I gimped back to my room Mike’s bright orange Croc hit me in the back of the head. I turned back to glared at him and all he had to say was, “eleven…”
Again, I had written a blog that was wonderful...shorthand, and was something I was prepared to re-write and post.
Then I saw the "exercise". I don't know if I can ignore it. I think I am forced to write now, with no planning and only the spell check to keep me in line. Ha! (Can there be content check?)
"Write about something you despise"
1. Bad Hygiene. Period. and periods...
2. No napkin in lap.
3. Eye contact avoidance.
4. Rudeness to the staff.
5. Ignoring the blinking light at the side of the room that says, "It's time to Dance...do you know what time it is....it is TIME to dance...i SAID do you KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS? IT IS TIME TO...blah blah blah...you got it. (This is to close the " because I was too excited to do it at the right time,)...DANCE!!!!!" (there it is...the pause threw me off)(...)
Okay, I made that one up.
6. Passive agressive behavior. If you have anything that could be close to agressive behavior, do it real quick and all will be fine. Passive aggressive? We will not solve your problem, well...ever.(and you will die alone as you suspected)...sad lot.
9. Hip Surgery...wait, that will be okay.
10. My dog with a bladder infection...like right now.
30 Days of write is an excellent angel (or devil) on my shoulders to remind me that I need to take the time to "think", "process" and "write-down"...uh...stuff.
Real stuff. Imaginary stuff. Stuff that is real but I trick you into thinking it is imaginary. Stuff.
This month we have a new task for day one.
Intentions: My intentions are to work the grit out of my head gears...to oil the levers under my non-existent eyebrows...and to use "Ellipsis" less...much less...you know...so...they don't become...trite... (...)
(I'm going to fail at the last one because A)Commas suck, B)Semi-Colons feel too clinical to me; and C)I like them...)
Introduction: I am an Interior Designer in Austin that specializes in only corporate spaces and am the ultra code nerd in our group. Fire, Building, ADA...nerd.
I enjoy writing and blogging and would love to write a fantastic Sci-Fi, but I struggle with the fact that I know just enough about Science and Math to know that I would have a hard time making something believeable. Therefore I should write about a professional woman in her 30's dating in Austin...very believable...good sources. (mine)
Here I intend to write on the mediator topic...or whatever I want if I hate it.
I love monkeys, index cards(especially ones with 1/8" grids), human behavior and cheese.
In the midst of trying to deal with the ridiculous heat and the aching nightmare that is snaking around in my hip, I have forgotten something important.
I must have a creative outlet.
Monkeys...like myself...get irritable and unfocused, generally moody and sometimes downright cranky when that part of the head goes un-entertained.
Steps to get my gears oiled properly again:
1. Participate in 30 days of Write...September! 2. Continue to find Harold's laugh at work a super fun thing to hear...it makes me laugh everytime I hear it...a really "from the soul" laugh. 3. Keep the house really tidy. 4. Take Leelu to the dog park more often....but not the one with E-Coli. 5. Eat more Kale. 6. Completely redo my study. This has to happen quickly so that I may do creative projects in it. 7. Paint my bug pictures again. 8. Make some jewelry. 9. Make cooked pudding from time to time from scratch. 10. Perfect the homemade chocolate truffle...use people at work as guinea pigs.
That's a start. Maybe I will add in..."wear something other than black...occasionally"
Major Christopher Cooper left us last year. My family and myself have spent the year remembering him, as have the friends and wonderful family he left behind. A year ago today his plane went down in Guam, where Chris and 5 other crew members died.
His childhood photo of himself in the B-52...when he knew it was what he wanted to do...is a stunning picture, which resembles the taller version of that kid in all of the decades of the pictures up to last year.
He was a wonderful Friend...full of life, odd humor...an absolute character to the end. Chris' insight to the human condition was spot on.
He was a wonderful Son...with a level of respect and reverence for his family that rivals most. What he had already learned from his elders at his age put to shame the rest of us.
He was a wonderful Patriot...with an unwavering loyalty and love for his country...and for the people that he swore to protect. He was what the tradition of honor was built on, and the Soldiers and Airmen that I have met through him are filled with awe of his service.
Chris will always be in the hearts and minds of myself and my parents, his friends, and foremost his family.
Today I want to say that the Sustare family is still deeply mourning Chris and sends support to the Cooper family. I also want to say that he died doing what he loved and had more honor and bravery than most of us will see in our lifetimes...and was humble about that fact.
Godspeed Major Cooper
Please celebrate Chris today and celebrate the military men and women you know and love. Susanna
I have not done a stunning job with the old blog....in fact, I believe I still have a few of the senses to write about...which I will.
But not tonight.
All I am noting tonight...due to a low level of Monday Malaise...is something I noticed at dinner.
While eating a lovely Tom Kha Scallop soup I couldn't help but notice the woman at the table next to us. She was very carefully and quietly blowing her nose into a tissue. At first I thought it was polite of her to do it so slowly and in low tones....but after LITERALLY 6 minutes of the steady nose blowing I was ready to pull a Neti Pot out of my purse for her. Hell, I had time to go to the store and buy one for her while she was still doing it.
It was amazing that I was so bothered by it, but it was like water torture! Okay...that's an exaggeration....but it was real yucky.
"I look like what?" "a party...in my face." "What part of me looks like a party?" "I said in my face. What? You asked me what?" "You said I looked like a party in your face." "I did?!? Oh...that's rude."
I’m going back on the topic of the Senses, with my favorites.
Today finds me in such a swell mood…and I’m not sure why. I didn’t get a great deal of sleep…or good sleep. There isn’t much work interaction today to make me perky. I’m just generally happy today…I’ll take it. All that said, my left calf is strangely sore and somewhat blue….I choose to ignore it.
Ramble ramble ramble…
Sense of Sound and Hearing:
1. I feel a little sense of joy when I hear someone frantically whipping their spoon around in a cheap plastic yogurt container…to get the last drop. It sounds like “fun” in my ears.
2. Bagpipes…anywhere! I’m a sucker for the dissonance!
3. Sleepy /Cranky kids. When their little voices are sort of trailing off before they go to sleep….”I’m not sleeppppyyyyyy….zzzzz.”
4. Dog sighs. I laugh every time I see and hear a dog sigh. They always seem so pointed in their timing, to make sure you know…at just the right time…”You are boring and/or ignoring me now….sigh”.
5. New snow.
6. Really fine high heels with a long gate gliding over Terrazzo floors in a Federal building…lot’s of echo.
7. People next door to me in a cheap motel. As long as they are not fighting, I find the ambient noise from their room soothing.
8. Honestly…my hearing is really awful, so I enjoy hearing things that I can actually hear…I also enjoy NOT being able to hear that screechy girl across a crowded room.
This morning as I was getting ready for work I had the joy of experiencing one of my favorite physical sensations. It made me think about how such small incidents and sensations can have such a great and intense effect on me. Over the next few days, I am going to write on the different senses…..not a wildly original topic, but something I enjoy thinking on nonetheless.
Today: Sense of Touch
Some of my favorite physical sensations starting with the one from this morning:
1. Removing my jeans from the dryer and putting them on right away, which leads to several hot spots where the white hot brads are burning my bare skin for a second.
2. The bitter ache of my feet right as I remove absurdly constrictive heels that I have worn for 16 hours.
3. Clothing vibrating against my skin in the Meat Beat Manifest show because of the volume.
4. The moment when you are massaging someone’s skin that you can feel their muscles relax.
5. Too much Novocain…this is a love/hate item.
6. Standing in a bathing suit in the Adirondack Mountains while waiting for my turn to parasail…and it was 36 degrees…Fahrenheit.
7. Getting in the water after #6 to help retrieve people….which felt warm and steamy…and impossibly thick.
8. The jostling when driving on a hot sunny summer afternoon with someone who likes to not talk in the car….Manu Chao on the radio and icy spots on my arms from the AC. That is total relaxation for me.
9. Pinching someone else’s REALLY REALLY naughty kid. I haven’t done this in years…and won’t again…but it felt great!
10. Sleeping with my hand on my puppy’s belly, and the fact that putting my hand there knocks her out immediately.
11. Getting past the point where someone’s skin next to mine is too hot…and not moving away. Eventually I don’t notice the heat anymore and we melt together.
For thirty days of Write...heres my second post....Subject: Create a sub-culture and describe. Here goes!
2031 Subculture: Genetic Miscreants, known as Gen-Traits…for Genetic Traitors
Motto: “Evolve or Infect”
Purpose: Their Ideology is based on their need to spit on Evolution and Mother Nature…specifically because it takes too long naturally. Some groups want to show the world that they can evolve on their own. Others that are in the more extreme factors are trying to see if they can push the boundaries that force Mother Nature to create new Viruses and strains of Bacteria, forcing her to fight the Gen-Traits back. They are becoming dangerously close to this goal and have become a massive threat to society.
Physical Traits: The following list of traits demonstrates a few of the most common body modifications:
• Skin Hardening – This is done to resist inoculation bombs that are constantly raining down on them by civilians, governments and chemical companies.
• Eye Replacement – The eyes are replaced with Aural/Sonar devices to allow movement in complete darkness due to smog and gas rampages.
• Full and Partial Body Joint Replacement – This is done to reverse the range of motion and to retrain the entire muscular and nerve system. The idea behind this is to create reverse musculature for Gen-Trait body-building shows….very lucrative. This also allows for ease in brachiating.
• Appendage Additions – The most common is still the prehensile tail, except it is quickly becoming overdone and Gen-Traits are now getting their tails docked. Most of those individuals also get their ears docked to match.
• Skin Tone Modulation – This allows the Gen-Trait to sync a changing skin tone based on several self-set factors. They can set their skin tone to change with Rhythm and Tones, to change based on moods, or to change based on toxicity level s in the air.
• Ground Effects/Hydraulics – Self explanatory.
• Mercury Tattooing – Encapsulated Mercury pods and patterns that time-release tiny amounts of Mercury into the blood stream to induce Mercury Poisoning Euphoria….as well as insanity.
• Sensory Re-Wiring with Pavlov Button – The button is usually in a visible location such as the neck.
Clothing: All clothing is oil and metal based. There is no sitting or standing that does not leave a pool of grease and metal filings. All outward appearances are meant to be very slick and grungy, although the more vain and younger Gen-Traits prefer a graphite based oil that gives them the appearance of Hematite, the rest look like they are covered in Vegemite.
Housing and Food: Gen-Traits live in large packs due to social resistance to renting space to them…..very messy as well as Toxic. The beds are tanks that include liquid nutrients that are ingested Dermally during their sleep since the act of eating is considered too “Human” and the Gen-Traits are beyond that. Misc.: One curious item about this group is that they keep lab grown organs and specialized proteins as pets that they carry in sealed clear-glass containers as jewelry. Some carry disease-infected ones to throw as grenades if they are threatened.
Well, I have not been writing for April's "30 Days of Write", however...I just saw Laurie's topic on what kind of dream house would you want. So many images immediately erupted in my cortex...must...write...down...(as a numbered list...because I like them)
Memories of dream homes I wanted at different times in my life
1. As a four year-old I wanted a mud house. This home was to have an Al Fresco kitchen...well, I guess the whole thing was to be open air, since I couldn't figure out how to have wet mud stay suspended as a ceiling. I could entertain several guests at the mud bath and hose everyone off as they left. Clothing was not an option for this house.
2. At 11 I was in love with Mark Twain's house in Hartford CT...my ultimate fantasy house at the time. We went on the tour countless times, which led to my Mother procuring a Mark Twain action figure for me. It wasn't like the satirical plastic ones they make now...you know, in that series of pithy toys...Freud...Jesus...Lesbian Barista. No, mine was an all cloth doll around 5 inches tall with a removable blazer. I built a cardboard dollhouse for Mark, complete with a secret door to shove his mistresses through, a conservatory, and a working elevator, all per the real home. My parents weren't thrilled about the mistress shute...
3. At 12/13 I could think of nothing more perfect than Decker's apartment in Blade Runner. Dark, moody, piano covered in old photos, a constant cloud of glittery dust hovering in the air...waiting for the 10 minutes of sunset daggers to make them pulse glow ripple. It was a womb-like dreamhome. "enhance..."
4. Ah...17. At this time I fancied myself Miss Suzy Alternative. I thought I was mysterious and a little dark...and a budding pervert. (I had no clue...I was a pretty happy-go-lucky good-girl virgin) I thought it would be cool to have a home with stainless steel tunnels for halls, complete with mystery drains in the floor and bare red lightbulbs. I also wanted a dungeon room with electrified clay walls with shackles. Yep....don't let your kids watch VideoDrome too much. Thank God I grew out of this house idea!
5. College...anything by Frank Lloyd Wright.
6. 2004...the home I was living in. I loved the old house on Mary Street that Brad and I had. It was quirky, with the creaking wood floors and the overabundance of windows. The kitchen and bathrooms were the only modern features and everything else was from the 20's. The lovely yard was somewhat unkempt and had a strange stage in the corner, which would have made a fantastic place for a kid's impromptu dance performance. The playhouse left behind was all wood and two stories tall...dangerous and perfect. dang...
7. crap...now I'm just missing that house.
8. yeah. I'm gonna make some coffee now. I'm tickled by these home memories I haven't thought of in a while...
My trip has gone wonderfully! Work went as planned...down to the last minute...literally. I made a copy of the shipping docs a moment before the folks came to get the copier. It was a charmed timing.
In my free time I have gone to art exhibits, great restaurants, crazy local music events....and, AND the coolest History nerd food event!
Sunday at 10 I saw an article that the Freeport Historical Society was putting on a series of events celebrating the Tam O'Shanter...an historical ship attached to Freeport (somehow....must research).
One week they did Sea Shanties, another was a theatrical presentation of life at sea. This week was Maritime food on the high seas. "Lobscource for Dinner?"
I knew it was at 2pm. I knew it was 10 bucks. That was all I knew.
Well, I was the only person who wasn't part of the society and was 30 years younger than everyone there. Oh, and they were gonna serve food, prepared by the Portland Culinary Institute Freshmen.
We got to hear a fantastic lecture by Sandy Oliver (foodhistorynews.com) all about the differences between the crew food and the officer food. We also heard bawdy stories about the cook and the Captain's cook fighting in the galley, and terrible tales of retribution when the crew were rude to the cooks. Worse than now...I promise.
They split us into red and blue groups, where we sat at tables for grub....blue at folding tables covered in planks for the crew...with limited silverware, and red for the officers...with proper linens and knives. I was blue thankfully, because after we ate our stuff we got to swap. Glad I ate the odd stuff first.
Crew: Hardtack - a biscuit meant to break teeth
Lobscource - a stew that was sooo salty I thought I may die, filled with boiled meats and hardtack. (funny thing...the majority of the people there were old women, but some brought their ancient quiet hubbys along. Every once in a while you could hear one man pipe up and say..."This CAN'T be low sodium...am I gonna have a problem hon?")
Duff - It is a"pudding" flour, a little lard, and mollasses...that is boiled in a ball in cheese cloth. The sailors were given a ration of flour, and they found this to be the best preparation of it. Also, they called it duff because the word they saw for it ..."dough", could only be pronounced by a word they knew much better..."rough".
Coffee - not coffee...chicory and barley...otherwise known as Postum.
Officers: All of the above, except... Hardtack - same
Lobscource - Oh yeah!!!! 4 peas and a piece of turnip added. There was also rice but the woman next to me argued that it was dissolved hardtack. I didn't disagree...she was the chair of the City Council.
Duff - I liked the crew one better. This has raisins in it and a lemon sauce. (Yes Charyl...for the scurvy!) Contrary to popular thought, I don't love raisins. ("It's got raisins in it...you love raisins!")
Coffee - It was coffee....but really strong and filled with grains.
The experience was amazing, and I was able to sit next to people with 60 years of history+ as well as next to a man who was career Navy and talked about the food in this century aboard ships. And we were filmed and interviewed for the local access channel.
I may be nerdy, but this adventure was sure better than going to the Banana Republic outlet up the street. -Monkey
Wow...what a great time I've had in Portland, Maine! Highlights:
1. There is a small market 2 blocks away that has incredible cheese, and they will vaccuum pack it in as little as an ounce for my flight home.
2. The Art Museum of Portland is open every Friday night for free until 9PM and the exhibit was all b&w pics of musicians from the Jazz Era to now. Very crowded...very fun.
3. It's a small town, but it's a foodie town. I met a guy tonight that works in a place called "Duckfat"...wow!!!
4. My project has gone perfectly. A great deal of work and I am still tired from the hours, but we got it done...on time/under budget (I hope).
5. I went to a music show tonight in a gallery space that was a great concept which could have gone terribly wrong. 48 Hours ago 10 bands put their names in a hat and 6-5 person bands were chosen to play together at random. They had 48 hours to come up with a 25 minute set.
Wow...they did great, and the crowd was very nice and welcoming to me. The best band out of the bunch was "The Mexicutioners". I met a bunch of great folks.
6. I had some stunning Chowder.
7. I treated myself to a fantastic Bday dinner, and messed up...tipping 60% by accident. (monkey!)
8. I had my photo taken for the local scene-zine for "cool scene stuff".
9. Dairy dairy dairy. I can't imagine being a Vegan here.
10.I have started saying, "yup" in response to everything.
What a delight of a place. Work was very busy, and now I have a day on Sunday to roam and play more. I would suggest that everyone comes here at some point....of course, if I wasn't the kind of person who talked to strangers, went to small local dives and went out on a limb sometimes, well, this might be a boring town.
January 04, 2008 Hey, you wanna know what is NOT a good idea when you have been alone, housebound and sick at the Holidays??? Bingo!!! Looking through the "memory box"!!!! Hmmm. Feh.
What I did find that was amusing is what I am going to post below. There was a time when I worry not of money....a time when I moved back in with my folks...at which juncture I used to frequent some fancy dining holes solo. My favorite was Jeffrey's, which is one of Austin's oldest and best fine dining spots, with a scant number of tables in it's dimly lit cave of a house.
One evening when I was noshing there I took notes about my surroundings. Here they are, without editing. Most items are comments of other diners I overheard, which are in quotes....lines not in quotes are my observations.
Dinner at Jeffrey's, June 24th 2002
"Is everything on the Menu this evening?"
"It's the first 'Wild' Salmon of the season...I don't know if you can handle it!"
"For the Women and Their Work's show I am going to wear a red-sequined dinner jacket!"
They call their home "The Property"
Alabaster candle holders look to be worth the money
Under the linens the tables look like the ones at Conan's Pizza
I think that what is overheard on the Tube is more interesting than in this restaurant
It appears to be such a struggle for the wait staff to be polite. They are so cautious. Can it be possible that the general clientele might be so impolite ass to cause this behavior?
Diners are falling into two categories.
The people that are so wealthy that sitting here is nothing to them...a drop in the bucket. They are loud and swearing and friendly to the waiters.
The people who have saved up for the night on the town...asking the price of everything. They are quiet and assume that they have to degrade and boss around the waiters.
"You see! He's taken control of you ALREADY!"
Solid black pendant fixtures are lovely and moody
Petite Caesar Salad, Boquerones, Tuna Tartare with a raw quail egg
Porcini Gnocchi with Mozzarella, French Horns, Pecorino and Braised Grapes
The all talk about Politicians but not Politics...where their buddy Kay Bailey Hutchinson gets her landscaping guys
He is talking about his money as if it makes him virile...yet his cough tells me that he is dying...
January 3, 2009 When did I swallow two red golf balls? In my sleep? And why do they have dime sized white spots? I check my insurance and find that HEB has a nurse practitioner clinic that I can go to on Sat...I gotta get in now!!!! Yay Strep Throat. The nurse looked visibly grossed out by my throat. When he looked in my ears I said, "Hey, is there a wax plug in that one?" He said yes and asked if I wanted it removed.
"Boy howdy, there is nothing more that I would like than to get the wax plug removed! Happy NY to me!!!" - which I didn't say out loud.
Yes, please remove it. He pulls out some tool and starts to tug, at which point I experience such a sharp pain that I jerk away from him. The look on his face was priceless...a mixture of sedate and mostly hidden amusement and concern that he may have hurt me. I, on the other hand, was probably hissing at him with my paws in the air and my shoulders raised....a little angered badger. Ear wax badger.
THAT was the point that he described how the wax had been there a while and that it was going to tear the skin "a leeeetle bit", so "prepare yourself, and stay still..."
Arrrrrrrrrrrrggghh! Come on dude!!! He got it. As he was writing up my prescription for antibiotics I noticed that my hearing was lessening. He simply said, "That's okay, your ear is just filling up with blood." Again, REALLLY???? Alright. So I go to the Pharmacy to put in my script and they give me a timeline of 30 minutes.
What is a better use of my 30 minutes than to sit in the waiting area as the Golem....terrorizing families. When the blood started pouring out of my ear I looked at the lady next to me and said, "Ebola..."
I should have smiled so as to not be gruesome and to show the joke...but I didn't really care. She got up and moved. In fact, everyone who came into the waiting area moved away from me. When I got home I decided that I had to do the unthinkable...let my folks take my baby dog for a couple of days. She needs her longer walks and they love watching her...so Dad comes to pick her up.
As he was about to leave I said, "Look at how swollen my glands are...my whole throat is like a tube. Here, feel my glands." He suddenly stopped looking like my Dad, but instead looked like a grossed out little boy. He simply said, "I don't want to." ...with no feet stamping, but almost.
My little puppy Leelu and Dad were pulled away and I said to my father through his window, "Can Leelu get Strep from me?" Dad thought for a moment and then said, "Hmmm, I don't think so...unless you were french kissing her." I told him that I hadn't done that since Tuesday, so she should be okay. We laughed, he drove off, I've been napping.
I'm hoping the rest of 2009 goes up hill. I didn't think I would have already heard the comment, "That's okay. Your ear is just filling up with blood." (I kinda think it's funny...even though I still can't really hear out of it.)
Ahhhhh...2009. What new things will be in store for me this year? 2008 held difficult times...many deaths...some health things...the flood...financial woes....all in all, kind of a crap year. I think that 2009 MUST be better, or at least as exciting/dynamic as last year.
The last few days of my 2008 were kind of perfect and magical (private non-blog material), but so far here is the brief recap of 2009, thus far.
December 31, 2008 That morning started by waking up early to what I can only describe as acute and terrifying stomach pains. Distention and stabbing so bad that I couldn't sit or stand up straight. I've felt this before...food poisioning of some sort....or a bacterial infection in the intestines. Yay infection.
"Infection is your finest flower, mildewed in the mist." - The Residents
As the day went on, it got worse and worse, a fever looming over me and a disapointed girlfriend over canceled NYE plans. Then I got sick...toilet hugging sick...which was so bad I broke blood vessels around my eyes. I looked at myself in the mirror and said in disgust, "Oh come on! Really? Really!?!"
January 1, 2009 I woke up that Thursday still feeling awful, with the cramps worse and the fever higher. I drifted in and out of consciousness all day between movie watching. At midday I realized that I needed ONLY broth and tea for the next two days to clear my system. So it went.
January 2, 2009 Friday, lovely Friday! When I got up Friday...I knew it. I knew that I was really, REALLY sick. It was time to call in the big guns. I Call Mom. I tell her that I know she has offered to come over in the past for a myriad of things, and I never let her. She comes over when good things are happening...I don't like her here when I feel bad. Hell, the house is clean...I feel like crap...I need her help. She comes, I nap, we bicker, she leaves, I apologize(to my Dad to pass to Mom), she calls to check on me later. I try archaic home remedies that are too blue for this blog...sleep.
I'm a Facilities Designer in Austin, TX. I move between many different circles which range from the old Austin hipster guard, to the science geeks, to musicians and artists, political extremists (all ways), the Godless and the God-Filled, and of course...some Asshats.
I'm open minded.