Impersonating a blogger

Well, it is now almost 3 months since my last post and I'm once again presented with a quandary: give up, catch up or move on? I think I gain some insight when I read back over old posts. Mostly I learn that I really should give this shit up. I haven’t the will to do it right, so I really shouldn’t give out the link. Just like I shouldn’t tell people I play guitar when I really only know ¾ of one song. (Tony Price Don’t You Think I Feel It, Too? In case you were wondering.) Should you also be curious how I can know only ¾ of a song, I keep forgetting one of the chords and I can’t find the stupid notebook from my 3 lessons because I stashed it away somewhere because prospective buyers were coming to look at our house. FYI- If you are thinking about selling your house, perhaps you should think again. Blecchh. Not the best time. Maybe by the time we get a buyer, we can be ready to retire and just go straight to the RV.

I’m going to try something new. I’m going to document what I’m listening to while posting. I want to see if the music influences my tone, content, swearing, whatever. Right now, the Best of J.J.Cale.

Here’s the short version. I won’t linger too long over the holidays; they are so last month.

Thanksgiving was the usual chaos, fitting 25 people in a tiny room (cake-walk-esque, except when someone gets up for seconds, everyone tries to steal their chair). Somehow felt like the memories of holidays I didn’t have. Mine were always either mom’s martyrdom or grinding my teeth until I could get home and have a drink. Funny how I’d give my right arm to have one of those now. “Youth is wasted on the young” might be the truest truism ever.

Tried a new hairdresser, Julie at Bliss, based on a Google search of “best hairdresser in Columbus, OH”.

The only hairdresser I’ve been happy with for the past few years lives in Austin. I go once a year, but until Skybus goes to Texas, I have to get my wig busted here.

Julie had a bunch of great ratings so I thought I’d give her a go. My previous hairdresser was really nice, but I’m trying to stop going to hairdressers because I like them. I’ve been down that road and eventually you just end up with a blotchy hair color and having to take the walk of shame to the next person. The only person I’ve ever seen that didn’t slam those who had cut before is my Austin girl (Mickey at Wet Salon on South Congress, FYI). Maybe it is the good mojo? No, I don’t think so. She has a knack of cutting 3 hairs and my hair is perfect, stylish (not styled) and stays great for 2 months. Anywho, I’m on my 3^rd Bliss visit and the jury is still out. I understand that the most flattering cut for a woman whose head is shaped like Charlie Brown’s is an angled bob, but I freaking hate bobs! I’d rather be a round and funky chubby 30-something than a boring 30-something chub. Again, I’m caught up in the whole liking thing. She’s fabulous. Really fun and interesting to talk to. Plus, the last time I saw her, she had just had this horrible personal tragedy: “Hey, yeah, sorry your life has been turned on its ear and will never be the same, but could you do something about my hair?” She could have given me a mullet with a spiky top and a perm in the back and I probably wouldn’t have been able to say anything. We’ll try again next time.

Switched to Nellie McKay Obligatory Villagers.

Mr. Stockula and I had Christmas the Saturday before the actual holiday. We had a great day (which was blocked out on the calendar as a day that was for us, so that was nice. We got up, he made me chorizo and eggs, we opened presents and I think we took a nap and then I cooked dinner (ham, Threadgills spinach casserole and pumpkin poblano corn casserole, followed by, of course, Just Pies Pumpkin Pie). I think we should make sure we have a “couple day” around the holidays every year. It is a good way to make it picture-perfect. If you don’t have kids, you need to justify everything you do over the holidays.

Phoebe is trying to stuff herself in the gap between the wall and my old, red monolithic filing cabinet. Why? Who knows? This gap is 1.5”. She is not. She is now acting embarrassed. I love when cats are embarrassed. Seem fitting since cats are such snobby bitches.

Christmas eve plans to bake some tasty treats were hijacked by my stupid oven catching on fire and cleaning up fire-extinguisher residue for 3 hours.

On Christmas Day, I went to my Aunt’s house. A synopsis:

Dance, Dance Revolution.

Kids with PhD’s.

Brazillian actress.

Parrot attack.

A mastiff.

Terducken.

Blue mashed potatoes.

Glass of vino and Beerfest when I got home.

Ah. Deck the Halls.

Met D for dinner at RJ Snappers in the Short North. Oh mama. Loved dinner at RJ! I had Caramelized Sea Scallops and D had Potato Crusted Florida Grouper. Both were very tasty, well-presented by a funny server. Sorry to say this, but one of the great things about RJ is the fact that for dessert, you can walk out the door, cross the street and be at Jeni’s. Mmmm Kentucky Bourbon Eggnog iced cream. I went back the next day for Cranberry Sorbet Royale. OMG, just looked at the menu to get the exact names and saw Lapshong Souchang with Armagnac Prunes. Lapshong Souchang is a tea Mr Stockula used to drink, I swear just to bug me. The first time he had it, I was freaking out because I smelled burned plastic. Nope, it was the tea. Next time, I thought one of the cats was trying to send a message. Turns out the only message was that this tea smelled like shit. From then on, “Ass Tea”. I don’t believe I will be making a trip to Jeni’s for “Ass Tea with Prunes”. I’m sure there is a funnier joke in there, but I can’t find it. Gilding the lily?

New Years was happy. As in Happy Hour. We went to the Lizard for beer and wings, but they closed at 5:00pm. Bastards. We decided to have a drink at Champps to decide where we wanted to have a drink. 2 hours later, we went home. Watched some tv. I woke up at 12:03am. Snork. Hey Honey. Happy New Year. Rmmmfdfoppsh. Snore. Football next day. Welcome 2008. Myeh. Whatever.

Now listening to Damnations Half Mad Moon. Favorite Austin live band when we lived there. Had the bad manners to break up without telling me. Like they knew who the hell I was. Still in my top 5 fave cds of all time for ability to put me in a good groove within 1 song. Amy and Deborah are probably the reason I harbor rock-star fantasies.

Off to Ft Myers Fl with grandma to visit my aunt.

The Good: I try to enjoy every minute with my grandma. She’s 82 and charming and wonderful. My Aunt is also fabulous, trying to make it in the Florida senior set real estate business. She has a great house and I really like this whole lanai thing. Aside from keeping the pterodactyl bugs and crocks out, it is a wonderful thing to walk out from the kitchen with your coffee in the morning to sit in the breezes and watch the fogeys teeing off. My vocabulary was enhanced. Hee hee. I thought golf was relaxing. The weather was 80 degrees with no humidity. Went to Thomas Edison and Henry Ford's Winter Estates. Very satisfying to the lab geek and amateur photo hack in me.

Squirrel says hi!

Mr Edison and the Cool "Walking Something-or-Other Tree"

Labs are awesome!

Lanais are a good thing, too.Dark, broody picture. as dark and broody as you can get in FL at 81deg F.


Bougainvillea.
Obligatory Pallm tree shot.

The Bad: My legs were so white and I didn’t quite have my sunless-tanner talents honed. Aunt and G were so helpful, I was left feeling like they saw me as the Special Ed member of the family. Seriously, I know how to use a light switch. Also, I was slapped into place when I asked if G would like more turkey on her sandwich, as there were 3 wafer-thin slivers, I wanted to make sure I didn’t short-change her. As my aunt put 3 slices back, I realized I needed to reel in my wasteful ways.

The Ugly: every server we ran into was a complete dick, tool, asshole. I really need to work on my insult vocab. Nothing pisses me off or makes me feel manipulated like a self-fulfilling prophecy. The server is a jerk because he assumes 3 generations of women will tip him poorly. Well, one of them, thank you very much, was a server for a long freaking time and is not only going to give you a shitty tip; she’s going to feel bad about it. How do you…like..that…

Fork for January was at Tucci’s in Dublin. Like Martini’s, a dangerous happy hour. They had a $5 martini and bar food list. From the selection of food we had, that could be a real bargain, which could explain why they were so packed. The apps were good. I particularly enjoyed their antipasta plate. I had never had a caper berry. Pow Zoom! The blackened scallops with gorgonzola were also great. I liked my entrée: Pan-seared Sea Bass with Pinenut Gremolata and Vermouth S auce. A lovely surprise was the Grilled Shrimp with Lemon Risotto. Sometimes grilled shrimp transcends. I can’t explain it and I certainly can’t predict when it will happen. Service was flawless, especially for a group of 15 women. There a re a few of the women who I really would like to see outside of the confines of Fork, but I haven’t figured out how.

Met D and J at Haiku for sushi. Love the Crunchy Buckeye roll. Obviously authentic Japanese. The calamari salad promised magic but delivered nothing. The nigiri was friendly and competent and the server was fresh. Wait. Reverse that. Had lovely and sparkling conversation with the girls.

Drug R to the Newport to see Louis XIV (opening for Hot Hot Heat and the Editors). She is such a good sport and really fun to go to a concert with.

Louis XIV did not disappoint. The lead singer has an Angus Young thing crossed with the dude from Black Crowes, very interesting to watch. The bass player did the un-bass-player-like move of attracting attention to himself as a sexual object. Good thing he was smoking hot. Hot Hot Heat, while competent and enthusiastic, should have been the opening act. They reminded me of OAR, college band with a decent following. I had only heard one or two Editors songs. I was completely blown away. The beginning had me a little concerned, very dark onstage, lead singer in a hooded sweatshirt, hood up. No worries, though. The lead singer had an amazing, resonant voice, like the guy from Crash Test Dummies. The set built to an amazing energy. Can’t quite describe it other than bouncy bouncy concert happy.

Re-playing Damnations.

Met R and A at Barley’s on Riverside for and hour of happiness. Was a lovely time. I’m still trying to figure out where I fit with the group. I hope it settles soon. Too much stress. Had the pleasant surprise of the chicken wings, They were grilled, tasty and the Gates of Hell sauce was more than adequate.

Went to lunch w/ Mr Stockula. Needed something quick, so we headed to Carfagna’s Kitchen, which was closed on Sundays. So, across the street we went to Pei Wei, P.F. Chang’s casual little brother. Note to self: You do not need to order the phad thai extra spicy!!! Your innards thank you. Seriously. The phad thai was a little heavy on the soy sauce, but ok. Mr S had S&S Chicken, which was surprisingly good for such a pedestrian dish. They had a really great iced tea, black tea with vanilla and cinnamon. Of course this was not their fault, but the place was Romper Room. Please folks, if your children can’t sit in their seats and eat, the proper response is not to yell after them as they are running down the aisle for the 10^th time: “If you waste any more of my time, we won’t be able to get ice cream!!”, while asking them loudly “what did you learn at church today?” Perhaps, may I make a suggestion? If you can’t keep your kids in their seats and stop yelling at them to the detriment of my lunch, you should go back to the McD’s with the playground where you both belong?!?

Next Fork is at Haiku. All the “I won’t eat raw fish” girls are getting kinda snarky.

Soundtrack: Police Be My Girl, Ray Price Crazy Arms, Scabs Tarantula. Widespread Panic Blue Indian. Amy Mann Ray.