Let's fold scarves!

I had a really nice birthday. The ladies at work took me to lunch, I snagged some chocolate-covered strawberries from Schakolad (wicked!), and even had a pedicure in the evening before dinner. And oh, holy jesus. DINNER.



Someone recommended this place called Reata to me, as I've been trying to eat at more Fort Worth restaurants. "Carne Asada at Reata," I was told, and omfg. Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself.

First of all, we started with an appetizer of wild boar ribs with a mouth-watering peanut sauce. I mean, it fell off the bones, it melted on my tongue, and though I can only come up with stale descriptions of how the meat behaved, it was anything but. It was gorgeous. It was sexy meat. And then...well, I was going to order the carne asada (which involves steak! and enchiladas! and CHEESE!), as I had been instructed, but one of the specials involved tenderloin and shrimp/crab something or other with port wine sauce...and well, D was getting the carne asada already...so I got the special.

After struggling not to make inappropriate noises with the boar ribs, I don't think I really bothered holding back as I took a bite of the carne asada...it was obscene. Mine was incredible, too, decadent and savory, but by god, I'm going back for the carne asada. Soon. (Ok, it's a little pricey to just wander back, but it's not outrageous).

Also had the dessert tacos, but they just couldn't hold up to the dinner. Only drawback to the place? Meh, the decor leaves something to be desired. But seriously? Fuck the decor, I can't wait to go back.

Then went home and passed out, no Wall*E for me yet. However...



The other night my friend J asked me, "So, have you been writing reviews for Ain't It Cool News now?" I said I hadn't, and he said he had to ask because he'd seen a review on there for Wall*E, which sounded, he said, "exactly like something you would write." He couldn't find it again on their site, but found it by doing an apt search, which I'll go into later. I found the review here, but the part that jumped out at him was:

But despite my misgivings, which seem kind of silly in hindsight, "WALL*E" delivered big time.

How big time is big time? Let's just say it's a good thing I was sitting in the back row, because this movie charmed my fucking pants off, then went down on me in public for an hour and a half. (To the family sitting next to me, sorry for all the noise.)

Yes, "WALL*E" is absolutely that goddamn good.

So reviews like that pique my curiosity even more, quite frankly. And hopefully we'll see it today or tomorrow. Really looking forward to it.

(And J's search was, "Wall-E, go down on me").

The more lost you are, the more you have to look forward to.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!!!!!!

I might very well post this every year, for all I know. Ask me if I care.



Who says songs about stalking don't make great birthday songs?

Look, Detective Lennox, Jerry Dandridge is vampire!

So last week I had to leave mid-editing session and snickered to myself as I deliberately left this photo on the screen, knowing D would think it was...well, look at it. It may be too small here to translate well, but it's kind of disturbing. I have no idea who this very nice young man is, but as D put it as soon as he saw me next, "Holy crap, what's up with the guy at the wedding who looks like he's there collecting souls?"

Apes don't read philosophy.

Worked out again this morning, hooray! Had to meet my trainer, so that's motivation, can't not show up. Have only one more session with him next week and then I guess it's up to me to motivate my own ass.

Worked on my arms this morning--free weights and everything! I find the free weights by far the most intimidating part of the gym. A) I barely know what I'm doing B) I'm a tiny little girl and nearly everyone over there is a giant male. But I do love them--I can feel the most benefit from them. So bit by bit, as I keep doing it, I feel a little less like a chode.

Got my first birthday present! (Ok, second. The first was my laptop from D, which I got back in May...this thing has totally saved my sanity at work. Plus when the DVD players fuck up at home, this little guy gets me through. It was even able to salvage the most butchered episodes of 24). Anyhoo.

Emily sent me a book! I was actually expecting a book I had ordered myself, so I rip it open and I'm all, "Wtf? They sent me THE WRONG BOOK!"



Luckily, my brain kicked in just as I sat down at the computer to see if I had somehow ordered the wrong book (I can be kinda special that way, on occasion). The title got me to thinkin', and I brilliantly looked at the invoice. Der! Anyway, it looks like a great book and she herself was really impressed with it.

Oh, and in my dream last night I was going to be in Japan at the same time I needed to be in class to pick up some papers. Luckily, Jensen Ackles said he would go for me. And I was thanking him and he told me for the first time that he loved me. (Apparently he was my boyfriend). So I guess that was just my birthday present to myself.

Going to sneak out of work a little early today to hit home for dinner with my parents and Alex...been kinda slow at work so that should be fairly easy.

And my voice teacher found Easy Silence without vocals, woo hoo! But actually, that scares the shit out of me. It's MUCH EASIER to sing along with Natalie, dontcha know. FAR less painful. If it weren't at 9 in the AM, I would almost need to have a little liquid confidence beforehand...

As the Congressman says, "you can teach them to type, but you can't teach them to grow tits."

Had my little massage this morning...very nice. I think my neck still needs more work, but it was very relaxing. I think that's probably a better thing to do in the evening or after work, but hey, whatever. They have a membership program I might really be into, but can't afford it just at the moment...but really great idea.

Watched part I of Empire Falls, a little miniseries with Ed Harris, Helen Hunt, Paul Newman, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Aidan Quinn...great cast, and it's pretty decent. It's not the most suspenseful or even compelling bit of TV, yet I am enjoying it. I think it may surprise me...it only has 2 parts anyway.

I tried to watch Angel A, a Luc Besson film that people seem to either loathe or adore. Alex said I wouldn't last ten minutes in, but I only lasted three--not because it sucked, though it really may have--but because it did that same annoying thing Paprika did--it only translated about 33% of the subtitles! He was talking about what a fantastic fuck he is, saying, "I don't mean to brag but..." and then it stopped translating! Wtf.

Wow. And that's really all I've got. Slow day.

Honesty may be the best policy, but it's important to remember that apparently, by elimination, dishonesty is the second-best policy.

Fuck. How depressing.

God, I hope I have the right machine, that sounds terrible..."I took a trip to Auschwitz..."

So I recently read a little book called Night, by Elie Wiesel. It's written by a Holocaust survivor who was a teenager at the time. This is so terrible, but I was kind of unimpressed by the book. I mean, how can you criticize a book about the Holocaust? Obviously, it's not like I'm all, "Oh please, this is so stale." It's just...I found the writing...lacking. And it's a fucking memoir, so there's really no way for me to even go there.



But anyhoo, I was reading it at the restaurant's bar last night (see post below--chicken & waffles, baby) when D got there (I like to look like a girl who knows how to have a good Friday night) and while we were waiting for our table to be ready, he asked what I was reading. "It's a book about Auschwitz." And there was that moment, you know, when you know the other person doesn't know what you're talking about. It was kinda loud in there, though, so I said it again. "AUSCHWITZ." Again, nothing. And this doesn't make sense to me, because I KNOW he watched the Errol Morris film Mr. Death with me--or at least most of--albeit years ago. Plus, I mean, dude. Auschwitz.

Not that I'm trying to call him ignorant, I swear. What I don't know about religion could just about fill a fucking stadium or eight, so I'm sure I would ask terribly ignorant-sounding questions there. Ooh, and sometimes when I play Geosense and do the "world map" one, yeah, sometimes I pick THE WRONG CONTINENT. That's just how I roll, baby. Geography is this gaping hole in my education I've desperately tried to remedy by just, you know, actually GOING there. It's the only way I can keep that shit straight.

Anyhoo, so tonight we're watching Life Is Beautiful with dinner. Which, you know, doesn't take place at Auschwitz, to be fair. But it's one of my top three films and he's never seen it. And last night reminded me he hadn't seen it. Haven't seen it myself in a while--not really one you just pop in for good times. The first half is very funny and incredibly Chaplin-esque, but then you know, it gets all heavy and stuff. (In a good way, at least).

I seem to be making cheese fries...though I am at least using this yummy Whisky Cheddar from Central Market. So that makes it much classier. (The tiramisu blew them away at work, by the way, so whew. Soaked the ladyfingers just the right amount of time and everything.)

Maybe you didn't hear me. I'm a CATHOLIC priest. Historically, that falls somewhere between chorus boy and florist.

Best Heinz commercial ever. Not that it would ever see the light of day here, siiiiiiiiiiigh.

After I blow a hole in somebody and slip around on their guts, afterwards, I always like to...make balloon animals.

Know what I had for dinner last night? Chicken & Waffles. Yeah, baby. Went to a new restaurant (new to us, anyway) in Fort Worth called Ovation. The meal was described as: Three well seasoned pieces of deep fried chicken, served with collard greens, Belgian waffles topped with blueberry and cinnamon infused butter, maple syrup and covered with sweet potato fries. It seemed to be one of their favorites/specialties, so I figured why not. It was actually pretty damn good.



My voice lesson was good again this morning. He never really offers much about technique, etc. when we get to the second half of the lesson and I start doing whole songs, but then we haven't really settled on a song to consistently work on, so I'm not sure if I should let it bother me yet. Still working on Easy Silence, and today he said it was "really coming along," which is funny since I barely got to practice this week. Moved on to a lot more Broadway this time, including South Pacific and Smokey Joe's Cafe. From the latter I sang Trouble, which is a funny, but over-the-top sultry thing. Kinda goofy. I also sang Always True To You (In My Fashion) from Kiss Me Kate but he didn't seem to really go for the song...does have pretty raunchy lyrics...but it's Cole Porter, what do you expect?? I'm taking it back next week, tough shit.

Also, my neck hurts like a motherfucker and I have no idea why. I'm having a "cranial sacral" massage Monday morning, whatever the hell that is, but it's just down the road, it's $39 and by god, anything will help. I'm still in my twenties (even if I am hitting the last year of that on Friday), I shouldn't be falling apart yet!!

If my answers frighten you, then you should cease asking scary questions.

Ok, I finally finished a movie critique...I got uncontrollably behind! Jesus, that took long enough. And it wasn't even an inspired review. Oh well.

Worked out with my trainer again this morning. Opted for legs. Did one exercise with freeweights that was ridiculously hard--each leg can move independently but my right leg is clearly stronger than my left, so it's hard to keep them controlled together. Also, there was a leg extension exercise in which the trainer had to tie two leather ankle cuffs on me and I assure you from the bottom of my heart it was such a struggle to keep each and every inappropriate comment to myself. I mean, you would have struggled, too. Seriously. They were fucking leather ankle cuffs, for god's sake!!

Anyhoo.

Did run across one of the world's worst waitresses last night. We went to El Arroyo, as it had been a while, and this chick never even brought us chips and salsa. She took my order (D had already eaten, it was kinda late) and no shit, thirty minutes later, she came back and asked how we were doing. I asked, "Well, there was this food that I ordered..." and she made a remark like, "Oh, it should be out soon." As if she didn't realize I had placed the order with her. She was real special. We call our special waitresses Pixley, in a long-running Sports Night joke.

Also very, very excited to see that Equus tickets have gone on sale. I think the performances are September through February, but I think I'll aim for October. Gotta call Drew and see if he'll even be in NYC in October...but oooh, how fun. I would normally aim for a weekday--cheaper tickets--but now I'm thinking Friday night so I can catch a Black 47 show on Saturday night, since I haven't seen them since 1998 when I was there with Jean. Going to be a fabulous fucking trip, just gotta save my pennies...

Take me now, subcreature.

I was up kinda late playing with wedding photos...my Mac is being hella slow and there are, like, 400 photos! (Sorry, Emily, almost done!)

And you know, I don't think I ever mentioned the prezzies I got in San Francisco! Emily gave me this GORGEOUS Vera Wang dress I wear as often as possible--a little dark purple number with a black velvet sash. It's very, very cute.

Also got a set of Look Better Naked, a black currant body exfoliating set. It lead to an altercation at the airport I didn't write about because someone upstaged me with his little TSA story.

It's NOT LIQUID. But it's also NOT SOLID. So there I am at 6 in the AM...ok, wait. I should probably back up. I was only bringing a carry-on. And I was paying $800 for a hotel room, and I was going alone...so I felt the need to...ah, bring my own entertainment, shall we say. If you know about the intervention episode of Sex & the City, you know what I had in my bag.

Anyway, I took it through the TSA in DFW and no one said a word, no one gave me shit. I noticed some discreet giggling, but no biggie. Leaving San Fran? Not the case. Guy full-on had to cover his mouth in what could pretty much be described as a guffaw, and then a woman took me aside and rifled through my bag. In San Fran-fucking-cisco. And I don't know if they were messing with me because of that or the bath stuff.

Long story short, I'm standing there arguing the semantics of liquid v. solid and whether a body mask really qualifies as a concern for homeland security (AND AND AND!!! if it was 3.4 oz it would have been okay but it was FIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE oz so god for-fucking-bid it make it on the plane).

Unlike some people, I did not stash it against my privy bits (since first of all, it was way too big and secondly, it did not occur to me), but rather let her confiscate it. I ordered another one when I got home, so fuck it.

Editor's Note: It occurs to me, upon re-reading that last paragraph, that I should really clarify that I'm talking about the bath set, not the other thing.

But those were the really great maid of honor prezzies Emily gave me. I'll have to take pics of the Vera Wang dress, it really is perfect. So frickin' cute.

Hey Jon, let's see if Binky the Clown can save Christmas again this year.

Hooray, Jack Bauer saves the world again. Pretty gruesome ending involving his partner (who did not die), I was impressed. But then I was annoyed by their need to make Jack cry later. Seriously? And dad, there is nothing right-wing about that show. Just because it seemingly endorses torture as a means of information retrieval. And all those covert cover-ups. Oh wait.

Ok, I can't really move my arms. I met with my trainer at 8am this morning and now look what's happened. Turning the steering wheel hurts. That's not crucial, is it? I'm dreading shampooing.

I also forgot my ipod and very unwisely decided to forego it for the trip over (it's like, ten minutes). Jesus. How does FM radio even still exist? They played Fall Out Boy, the musical equivalent of them sticking their diseased insect cock in my ear for four minutes, followed by Kelly Clarkson. The same bullshit they have always played--but does anyone still listen to any of these fucking stations, 9/10ths of which are all Clear Channel anyway? I'm starting to think that Josie & the Pussycats isn't funny at all.

No wonder I've been known to turn the car around to go back for Superfly Amadeus Shaft.

I finally picked up some marscapone cheese at the store to make tiramisu, which I've never made before. Ever since we bought an espresso machine, it's been in the back of my mind. Let's see if I can get around to making it before the cheese becomes a science experiment.

You're not getting this back. I consider it asshole tax.

Aside from my voice lesson, I did very little of anything yesterday. Aside from being impressed that a box of Snickers ice cream bars lasted a whole week in my house, nothing noteworthy really happened.

But Friday night was fun. We went to BJ's, one of the many restaurants in the Arlington Highlands, a newish shopping mecca down the road. It was incredibly busy and I got to do something I've always wanted to do--luckily, the waitress was very cool and it worked out beautifully. (You're all wondering if this is going to turn into a streaking story, aren't you?)

I think the idea occurred to me several years ago when D and I used to go to the BJ's in Addison and we were really, really poor. (Ok, maybe not this poor, but eating out was a huge treat). We could usually only get either a pitcher of beer or an appetizer (in addition to the meal and cookie dessert, which was mandatory, naturally). The funny thing was that this time we didn't have the appetizer or dessert--just didn't feel like it!

I simply thought it would be nice one day to not only not be worried about being able to afford to eat out, but that it would be nice to pick up someone else's tab anonymously. So that's what I did. Our waitress was really neat and got exactly what I wanted to do--I wanted her to choose (because how do I know how they're acting?). And preferably a couple, nice, maybe obviously on a first date or something, whatever. She got that I wasn't out to pick up some group's night out...

She ended picking an Asian couple somewhat near our table who were, as she said, "Very nice. And all my other tables are drunks." They had still ordered drinks (so had we), but they weren't, as she and I both described it at one point, "drinking shitloads."

The best part, hopefully, is that I picked up their tab and tipped according to the grand total, meaning I also got their tip. So if they're cool, they still tipped her and she had a good night.

It's BJ's, it's not like it's a really expensive restaurant or anything. (Besides, I imagine most people at a really pricey joint could give two shits about not having to pay.) But hopefully it still made someone's night.

I don't remember him being sick nine times.

Fuck this!! I'm not a roller coaster person as it is. Love the accompanying video.

You're the vulgarian, you fuck! Now apologize!

Very good voice lesson this morning...didn't feel like a total asshole, hooray! We usually do thirty minutes of exercises or so, and then work on actual songs. I have one song I was singing, but we were having a hard time finding a track of it without vocals, so he had me try out a couple other things. My song is Easy Silence, which I chose because it's a little on the political side and it really works for my type of voice.



(Love the subtitles).

Except when I'm not thinking about it, I accidentally try to sing "Greed and sanctuary" instead of "Breathe in sanctuary." Cause greed and sanctuary often go so well together, right? She enunciates well, I blame me.

I still needed to point him in the right direction, apparently, as he asked, "Have you ever sung Unbreak My Heart, by Toni Braxton?" (Are you fucking kidding me??) Ok, I know he's thinking type of voice and range and all that, but I still have to fight back chunks and say, "People usually ask if I sing Crazy, by Patsy Cline." (Crazy is the song for chicks who can hit the low notes, apparently). So we do Crazy and he gets out a different book and has me flip to another song I don't know but it's something called I Hope You Dance and has some vaguely Christian-y lines, so again I fight the urge to purge and note that hey, look at that, there's a Norah Jones song in there and maybe that would be better? And I don't even really go for Jones, but that's mostly due to her severe overexposure.

I mean really, we're welcome to sing whatever we want, but I'll refrain from bringing in some Marilyn Manson for the time being.

Or maybe just something with some strong, clear swearing, like the best track off the new Alanis album, Straightjacket...(not to mention some good bass that studio rarely hears, I'm sure)...



I'm sure we'll find a happy medium.

What am I gonna say? "I killed the president of Paraguay with a fork. How've you been?"

I can't really explain myself, or offer an excuse, I can only simply admit I bought Flavors of Entanglement, Alanis Morissette's new album that came out today. And I don't think I'm embarrassed. I mean, it's not like that time I told you I bought this.



I'm only on the fourth song but so far so good. It's certainly a whole fuckload more mature and musically interesting than some of her other albums.

You foul mouthed whore master!

Had my second voice lesson this morning, which went fairly well except it was one of those times where I start to wonder what the fuck I'm doing and maybe I have absolutely no business shelling out money just to try to sound passable instead of mortifyingly bad. But oh well, too late now! I also have to set up the Casio (which I STILL recall all three of us getting as a family present in the late 80s) in here to practice. Good times. That Casio hasn't seen real action in a while, it should be happy.



Today I have to finish wrapping up touching up the photos from Emily & Gene's wedding, so I can send a CD to them as well as her parents. They recently got back from Bali, and while it sounds really wonderful, it was also accompanied by, "I can't believe I fucking got attacked by sea lice!" and really, that sort of dissuades me a little. (Then again, I got a LEECH on me in the rainforest in Thailand, but it was not the Stand By Me moment I always dreaded leeches would bring).

Also, I left my camera battery on the front seat of Emily's car! So it came back to me, aw.

I'll be working here in the computer room, where I recently moved my record player. (And since D's at work all day I can open up ALL THE WINDOWS FOR THIS GREAT BREEZE!! Uh, apparently that really drives him crazy and he HAS TO have the AC on. Anyhoo). I didn't have speakers for the player so I purchased some at Best Buy (and I won't get into their awful service, which actually is a modicum better than it used to be but still rates below donkey-raping bad). So now I can listen to my records again! I have a very decent collection, largely passed down from my father. Started off with Afro Blues Quintet (meh), followed by All About Rain (various artists, fun), then The Guitar Worlds of Laurindo Almeida (very great stuff), and currently Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass. Holy shit, this has to be the most dated album I've heard in years. It reminds me of Tom Servo listening to the Mitchell opening credits going, "Hey, any song with wakka-chi-wakka in it is ok by me."

Seriously, I think this album has to go.

And speaking of purchasing appliances and the like, both the lights in my fridge have simultaneously gone out. I can only deduce it knows I was looking at stainless steel ones at Lowe's (whose selection actually is way the fuck better that Home Depot, look at that)! I can't lie--it's true, I was looking, baby. And I just may buy one soon. The one we have now is from 1982 (ok, maybe I don't know) and it has a real nice mucus-white coloration, but you know, it just doesn't do it for me.

Ok, it's nearly lunch time and therefore 24 time. Jack finally killed this annoying bitch who has plagued the series for three seasons. And seeing as how there are a couple of those, I'm not giving anything away if you haven't seen it yet.

By the way, honey, they do check resumes, so let's thank God that Mommy smells like coconut.

Hooray for Weeds.



I was getting a little tired of the storyline this season, but I guess Nancy having to deal with scary drug dealers was inevitable. It seems to be picking up, at any rate. The lines are always great...I'm sure Toyota loved this exchange:

Nancy: "You bought a Prius?"

U-Turn (scary drug dealer): "Yeah, I bought seven of 'em. One for all my guys. They're real quiet. Good for sneakin' up on motherfuckers."

That's an endorsement if I ever heard one!

And I totally want this: Pink Tentacle (Boing Boing mentioned them, too) reported on this wonderful-sounding Robot Teddy Bear Car Navigation System. It sounds so fucking cute, but part of me knows that at some point, that motherfucker would be in for the severest beating of his little life.

Anyhoo. Stayed home today due to a mild ailment, but much better now. I even cleaned the house somewhat...I want nothing more than to rip the bathtub from the main bathroom (the white tub) as it's old and just fucking nasty (don't EVER get sliding doors, GROSS) and put in a free-standing shower. I think this would be insanely pricey, due in part to the question: How does one get that tub out the door?

Ok, so I also watched a whole disc of 24 (and you know, I was starting to get irritated with the fact that everyone there at the Counter Terrorism Unit is always up in everyone else's bidness and deciding for themselves that maybe that person just isn't competent enough to be there...and then I realized, sadly, that maybe that was by far the most realistic aspect of the show) and anyhoo, I have the next disc in hand, not to mention the second (and final) disc of The Lost Room. I'm thinking about buying Six Feet Under for myself for my birthday...except FUCK ME, that thing is $250. More of a Christmas present, you know? Or a very drunken one.

I don't think we have anything for you. You're obviously in the wrong store.

Ok, so I don't know who has the problem, me or that cuntrag of a store known as Home Depot. (Though I'm the one who keeps going there). I think ultimately Home Depot is at fault, but I'm also willing to concede that from time to time, I may be wound a little too tightly.

Also, I can blame my time in Japan. I got used to real customer service and the feeling that people wanted me to spend my money in their establishment. Wild, I know. (Of course, I could also rant on about how conversely, no one in a Japanese business will ever tell you "No, we can't do that," but that's another blog).

So I really need to have new windows installed in the house. Been needing to for ages, the things we have now are shit. Plus, Mouche continues to have sporadic redirected aggression issues, which is my present motivation. Even if he can't see the stray that's coming around and pissing him off, he can smell him. Insulated windows and new treatments would, hopefully, cut electric bills and make for a far more pleasant 5am.

So I go in around 9:30am before working to price installation and whatnot. Left at 9:50 after being ignored by some bitch who got on the phone and didn't even acknowledge me and everyone else sort of played the whole Oh, God, a customer! Hide! game. I mean fuck me, will someone please take my goddamn money?

I'm tired of going into places like that and having to A) track someone down B) find out they have no idea what the fuck they're doing but C) insist they take my money anyway.

Not that they're necessarily any better, but I'll try hitting Lowe's after work to see if they're any more willing to take my money. Jesus fucking Christ.

Luckily, season 3 of Weeds came out this week, so I have Mary Louise Parker to make it all better later.