Outrage

Just hit one of the blogs I lurky-read. The first story made me want to post because I've downloaded enough to the boy. Having been raped at 16 by a total stranger (my first sexual experience), this causes bile to rise up in my throat and makes me want to scream. Seriously. WTF? A woman was raped, then thrown into jail? (It was a clerical error. She had no reason to be there.) And then she was denied a prescription to keep her from getting pregnant because the jail medical examiner had a personal problem with it? I spent time volunteering for NARAL and TARAL, but it seems more than a few men need a firm kick in the balls. And some women, too. Wouldn't it be great if there was a rape awareness day and every man and woman who had been raped or sexually assaulted wore a pin that said "Rape survivor". (Actually, I think I'm going to start a campaign because there IS a Sexual Assault Awareness Day!). And the first google link is for the Florida Council Against Sexual Violence. *snort* the woman's story above happened in Tampa. Seems they've got a bigger problem than they think.

Random Random Random Senseless Practice

(The second week of February is Random Act of Kindness week. I hate that bumper sticker, but really love it when people mutate it into other messages.)
One of the things I do that doesn't actually bring in any viable income but is still fun because of the randomness of it all, is proofreading OCRed documents for a company that contracts with major publishers for online document search retrieval. I'll edit a Christian marriage counseling page, a page from a children's book, and then a page of soft-core erotica, then a math book page. Great for keeping the brain non-linear, and I get to play with my weird ability to immediately spot the typo in written text. (I inherited this ability from my super-human mom, and until recently, just used this ability to constantly criticize myself. So this is a slightly lucrative use of a power for good, and not evil.)

For the most part, I don't get involved in the content, but I sometimes I'll proof a page that compels me to read the rest of the book. Rarely does the publisher omit the author or the title of the book from the layout of the individual page, but it does happen, and I'm left fumbling with half-finished novels in my head that will never be completed. So far there's a fictional biography of an icelandic punk band, a sci-fi series that I think I can track down, and an autobiography of a person who did a tibetan monk thing in England somewhere and has a funny writing style that I adore.

So yesterday afternoon I had a conversation with my fabulous neighbor about our ability to convince ourselves that we're worthless by listening to others trying to beat us down and turn us into something they think we should be, and not who we really are (a common enough occurrence in our media-inspired culture, I suppose). She went back to the gym and I sat back down in front of the computer and immediately ran into a great (para)quote in that tibetan monk book I happened to get to proof a few pages: I choose my own direction. And however much I may wobble in reaction to others, I keep my direction steady.

Half.com conflict

So I'm in the middle of a weird little conflict with someone that purchased a book from me on half.com. I didn't realize when I bought the book at Book People, that some ass had decided to rip a few pages out. So I, in my naiveté, listed it as a complete book. The buyer recognized this and sent me an email demanding a refund, thinking that I had ripped the pages out. This was a logical assumption, since that was the first thing I thought he did. But it cost 2.15 to mail the book media mail, and with the commission and packaging, the book I listed for $5.00 really only brought in about $2.50 in profit (the idea of commission and postage being separate from the value of the book is beyond the buyer). Since that's only about a fifteen cent difference from postage, I'm going to end up in a no-win-no-lose situation for no reason (I seriously doubt half.com will give me money for return postage - they're a business, not a charity. A concept that is also lost on the buyer). So I asked the buyer to neither waste his time nor mine, and get a faster refund, by not returning the book, destroying it and providing proof of that destruction. I even suggested he do it in creative ways. This is beyond him. I'm guessing this isn't a lesson in patience for me, but instead is The Ganzfeld desperately trying to tell me this guy is too repressed to own a copy of something that's an expression of creativity.

Dog fence span completed (almost)

Yesterday was an amazing combination of complete laziness and getting things done. AC made biscuits and we watched Veronica Mars for breakfast. Then he watched another Netflix movie while I did a bunch of random things, including attacking the growth on the fenceline. I got enough of it out to convince him to make a span of wooden dogfence, and when he finished it, it looked so good, I pizza&beer bribed him to do the last span to the cottonwood. I'm afraid of the cottonwood: this is the tree with the poison ivy trunk that's larger than my two hands fisted together. Avoidance! Avoidance!

So since I pulled the bribe out, I had to call for delivery. I hate papa johns - their sauce tastes like corn syrup - but besides Conan's (which is way too expensive for what you get) and Eastside Pies (which we weren't in the mood for -- the crust is too crusty), they're the only pizza that we know of that delivers to our house. I wouldn't have minded carryout Slices & Ices, but I wanted something different to remind myself why we like them. So I went on a pizza hunt, looking for a place that wasn't evil that might possibly deliver to our area. Austin's Pizza looked promising. They won a "best of austin" award for delivery from the auschron, so they might deliver eastside as most of the staff at the chronicle has lived over here at one time or another. I called. Nope. At least the guy was highly apologetic (we're about two miles away).

But I can't figure out why this myth of eastside Austin still prevails. It's quite cush now. I remember when cops would pull you over if you were white and driving east of IH35 after 8pm (mainly because it happened to a friend from the coop - and yes, he was actually trying to buy something illegal), but that's been decades. Seriously. AC and I were trying to figure out how we could best share our disdain for having to pick up our own pizza (which we really didn't mind, since he wanted to get beer, too), and he decided to write a letter. I suggested rather than pulling out the "I approve food orders for our events and I'll never shop there again!" whine (since it would be hard to really enforce - he has frequent lunch meetings there), that he instead do the "I would think Austin's Pizza was a little less racist than that" tactic. I doubt it will work, but I can still highly recommend the Bacon Pizzaburger with Fat Tire. Yum!

Friday mini-vacate

As planned, I drove to San Antonio Friday afternoon to pick up AC from his conference. Did I mention San Antonio drivers suck? We found the McNay (after taking a long and circuitous path. I *so* hate that city. Who plans a city around a friggin' circle? At least the mormons have it down - identify temple square and name the streets ordinal from there on a grid. Not a circle. Once you figure it out, you'll never get lost in Deseret - I mean, Utah. Oh, and never tell the story of the bulimic seagulls at an airport waiting for a plane going to Salt Lake City. Duh! Sure to be someone who doesn't find it as amusing as you).

At the recommendation of one of the docents at the McNay, we ate at a pretty tasty little sandwich shop called the Twin Sisters on New Braunfels - not as good as NeWorlDeli, but what is? Their parmesan bread was pretty amazing, the waitor was pretty funny (and obviously recognized his regulars). The soups left a little to be desired, but we're spoiled for soup. I should post my celery soup recipe - it's not for the faint of heart.

Once fortified, we were back at the mansion. I had been there when I was in high school (and saw pages from the first edition of Tom Phillip's A Humament - incredibly instrumental in who I am now. Art is best explored in its original form - not in a book, especially when it is a book) but AC had never been. So we walked around for a couple of hours, talked with the guards, and did a wonderful job not spending any money in the gift shop. It's a great museum, intimate without being overwhelming. It has representative pieces from artists, great for student field trips, but the exhibit that blew me away and left me with tears in my eyes was Jacob Lawrence's Migration Series (showing as part of Black Heritage month). Wow.

I did something right in a dog fight!

Maggie posing as a "good dog"
Originally uploaded by carabou.

Woo hoo! OK. Let me clarify. I'm not woo-hooing because Maggie jumped Pico. In fact, I feel kind of stupid because I figured something like that would happen, but I was really hungry and I was busy scarfing down half a can of kidney beans while dispersing cheers. My bad. Anyway.

It's a fantastic day, and I didn't want Pico digging up all of my worms and coming back in the house with a filthy nose, so I had her in the kennel for most of the day while I worked in the garage. Sorry A - it was driving me crazy. I wanted to take the trash out since the bin was full, and ended up doing more than I expected. Anyway. I decided to take some time and play with Pico and Hopus. I put Maggs and Chew in the back-back yard (we seem to have developed a complicated back yard system) and threw a toy for Hope. Pico ran around, peed twice (sniffed a lot first), and took a very large poop (which I cleaned up, thankyouverymuch mrC). It was fun, but I tired out Hope and she started to get a little grumpy toward Pico (I think she sprained her rear leg when I had her jumping and twisting in the air. She's amazing twirly dog!). Then Pico didn't want to run around any more because Hope was grumpy. So I thought I'd run in, grab a bite, and then do the doggy shuffle, but leave Hope and Pico in the main back, and Chuy and Maggie in the back back.

Bad idea. Kind of. I had the kitchen door open, and when person-walking-by triggered dog barking frenzy, I heard a dog run by the door and back again. "Huh? -- there shouldn't be any dogs there" so I peaked my head out the screen door and saw Chuy, but no Maggie. Crapola. Maggie probably jumped the fence and is now in the same enclosure with the dog that she has caused more than 5K worth of damage in at least three separate instances. Yay.

So I open the back door to the dogroom. And Pico runs in. A HUGE no-no, and Maggie, being the enforcer of all rules (she's very fascist that way), jumps Pico in the office, on the rug, next to the pile of books I'm trying to sell. I am sooooo happy Pico already did her bidness -- all that came out was a tiny little turdlet that I stepped on after the mess was over (I was wearing a sock. It's now in the trash and there's pee-eating enzymes on the floor where it got smushed).

So my long rambly story is now to the "I did something right!" part. What I didn't do: Panic. Yell. Scream. Pour water on the dogs. Rush around like a frantic person. What I did: I put down my bowl of food (I was eating a half a can of kidney beans, remember? Although, for a split second, I really did consider throwing it at Maggie, but how kidney beans would deter a fight is now beyond me. Glad I didn't - one less thing to clean up). After I put down my food, I put down my chopsticks (hehe). I grabbed Maggie by the tail. Still not screaming, I pulled. I didn't say anything, I just pulled Maggie away from Pico. Thankfully, she let go (I didn't get a chance to tether Pico to anything, so she was on her own).

Quick survey: no pee or crap everywhere and Pico is free. I'm still holding Maggie by the tail, and she's snarling like a mad dog (frothing at the mouth and grrr!) Pico, sweet little stupid thing that she is, is sitting there, wondering what the frack she should do. I am so glad we trained Pico to go to her kennel. "Pico! Kennel" (stupid dog, I'm thinking - but she's not alpha, and has no idea what to do, so it's actually good that she waited for me to tell her what to do. It's my job.) Pico heads out to her kennel in the living room and I reach behind me, open the door and very calmly shove Maggie outside. Go to the living room, check Pico over (she's slobbery, but no damage. Whew!). Walk back to check for a more thorough pee-poop check and step in some. Take off socks and throw away. Let in Chuy, let in Hope. Walk around with Maggie for a little bit to reaffirm my alpha (and she's really doing it all right - walking behind me, totally focusing on my face. I ignore her, but demand she come out with me while I'm taking out the recycling). Let her back inside with me (and yell at Hope for jumping over the couch and eating all the cat food).

Then I realize that I don't have a headache, nor despair, nor melancholy. Maggie just attacked Pico and I didn't lose it. I actually handled it in a way that didn't cause more damage to Pico (unlike the previous times when I yelled and screamed, which I realized afterwards caused more damage b/c Maggie thought I was encouraging her - she's such an obedient dog. If only she weren't so rule-bound). So I'm happy in a weird sort of way. And I'm proud of myself. So, yeah, I'm bragging. But in a weird sort of "my dogs aren't really well-behaved" way. Which is perfect, because it makes no sense. Just like me.

Snopes has a picture gallery!

I like snopes, but it's not one of those sites I look at every day. I usually only use it to refer people who send spam as they were one of the first, and are still pretty active, and -- they've got pictures! I'm not so keen on the gruesome bits, but the one that really cracked me up was a pic of urinal art. I though, "Oh, the stupid fly target again" (which is clever, btw, but since I'm female never really appealed to me). Not that. In fact, not that at all. I almost sent it via email to some people I know, but resisted -- oh ... so ... hard ... -- cuz if it's on snopes, it's already been emailed too much. So I put it here. (And the shopping bags are pretty cool, too.)

Quinoa recipe from my acupuncturist

lightly toast about a cup of quinoa in ghee until it starts to pop and smells really toasty. Add in about the same to double of broth and some peas and chopped red and yellow peppers. Cook like rice (bring to boil, then simmer low low low! with barely any flame for about 20 minutes). TaDa!

Argh, A Restaurant Drink, Limey!

I have mixed feelings about Saba Blue Water Cafe. We went when they first opened, when the warehouse district was just on the edge of being the urban scene it truly is now. OK - I lie. It was pretty hipster then, but I was better paid, better dressed, and much younger (but never a hipster - swear!). They were one of the few places in town that knew what a Mojito was, and theoretically, how to make it. I tried to make one at home, but couldn't really figure out the "muddling" bit, so I wanted to compare it to a "real" one. I'm still no expert, but I decided I like margaritas more.

Mojito

• 3-4 fresh lime quarters (like, take an organic lime? and wash it? and then cut it into quarters? Right?)
• 10-12 fresh sprigs of mint (and I used spearmint, which is what I had at the time. There are so many types of mint, I bet this could really change the drink. I bet lemon verbena would also make a killer replacement. Mmmm. I love verbena.)
• 1/2 ounce simple syrup (easy enough to make - but it takes an hour. Don't burn yourself, and you may want to consider adding flavoring to it if you think you want the extra kick
• 1 1/2 ounces white rum (I'm not a big rum drinker, and the boy likes spiced rum - I'd probably just use plain Bacardi, but if you know more about rum, get what you like. There's tons of rums - lemon infusions, raspberry flavored. I bet vodka would also work fine and I really like my Hanger One vodka)
• soda water (not coke, just the carbonated water stuff you get at the drink mixer section)
• Ice

Add limes, mint and simple syrup together in a 12-ounce glass. Pestle (really - that's what it says. Probably mean "muddle") together with 5-10 downward twisty motions (or muddle, if you know how to do that). Add the ice to the rim of the glass, and alternate adding rum and soda until the glass is full. Shake two or three times (the glass - in a shaker if you were smart and put the ingredients in a shaker glass) and serve. Don't forget to strain the mint leaves. No one thinks green stuff in your teeth is attractive.

It's in the eyes

So I was watching an episode of Dead Like Me on the sci-fi channel last night that I hadn't seen before (which is weird, because I rented the DVDs, but it's been a while and I'm easily distracted) and a new show is previewing that I thought I might want to watch - the Dresden Files. Looks dark, looks like a good carrier for some cool stuff. I ended up recording it to the DVR, but it was not necessary. (GAH! THE DOGS WON'T STOP BARKING AND WHEN I WENT OUTSIDE TO SEE WHAT THEY WERE BARKING AT - CONSTANTLY BTW - HOPE JUMPED ON MY KHAKI-COLored pants (yelling PICO really loud seems to have calmed me down a little bit) and now my pants have four dog-foot smears on them. Lovely).

Anyway. I started thinking about all of the webstreaming of tv shows and how they've got a directed target (I caught up on Vanished and was both annoyed and amused at how they require you to watch an ad before seeing content). So in my inbox this morning, I find a link in my Benton Foundation communication update to a Reuters article regarding an analysis of TV shows being watched on teh internets. The Benton synopsis made me laugh: [Nielsen stressed, however, that watching TV on your computer does not make you younger, smarter or more affluent.]

darn.

Another Door, another Drink

I haven't been to the Cedar Door in a while -- something about avoiding trying to find a place to park and the fear of the overpriced downtown crowd. But I found the recipe for their absolutely delish Mex Mart, so I may not have to worry about this anymore. Mmmm. Mex marts. If only they had Migas and Fajitas, I could avoid going to the frat-packed horribly loud Trudy's ever (but then, I actually like Trudy's, so I can deal).

CD's original mexican martini

• 1 ounce Sauza Gold tequila
• 1 ounce Hiram Walker Triple sec
• Freshly squozed lime juice (Central Market sells non-pasturized freshly squoze in convenient pint-size containers in the produce section)
• splash of both orange juice and sweet&sour mix

Combine the ingredients in a 16-ounce pint glass chock full o' ice. Shake well (the glass) and serve in a salted rim glass (they recommend one of those Marie Antoinette boobie champagne glasses, but any ol' glass'll do), and garnish with three green olives on a miniature pirate sword pick and a wedge o' fresh lime.

You'll recognize the template

I took this amazing workshop with Liz Belile when I was in grad school (although, because of the mess of teaching and learning, and the politics of accusations and money disbursement that was going on with the faculty at the department, I had to stop going to the workshop to save my sanity (although losing it happened anyway. My shrink totally sucked. I needed tools to cope with what was happening then, not to revisit the rape that happened in high school, or retell all of the "poor-little me" stories from my childhood while holding a human-kid-sized doll and sitting on battery cables - yeah). So I never performed my pieces but that's okay because it was still a cool workshop). Anyway. Liz has a new blog up for people who can't take the workshop because she's put a hiatus on offering it until she's got a kiddo. So go and take a look at it. Now!

(and san antonio drivers suck.)

Beautiful Day!

Yesterday I worked in the garden in a short-sleeved shirt. Amazing. 65 degrees, sunny, beautiful. We took Chuy, Hope and Maggie out for a short walk (just around the neighborhood) and enjoyed the beauty of the day. We thought about going to Town Lake, but decided not to waste gas (we could bike, but there's too much glass/debris on the road there for the dogs' paws). My new goal - walk all four dogs at the same time. Maggie hasn't had the opportunity to go for Pico's throat in a while, and I like to live dangerously. (Just kidding. I would never do that. I would like to be able to walk them all at the same time, just with Maggs and Pico on opposite sides of the two sets of legs holding the leashes.)

An update on the cats: Taki has taken to crawling under the cover with me when I get into bed. It's a little creepy and a little cute at the same time. He's gotten incredibly demanding when it comes to my attention/time/space. Right now he's in my lap (he demanded his way there). It's really cute, but poor Esme and Nuncle aren't getting any me-time. Eh - not true. Esme still sleeps on my head (which is great for my asthma - let me tell ya) and Nuncle hangs out on the desk when I'm working. He's there now, leaning on my stack of business papers I have to sort through. It's a good thing he's so cute, because it would be annoying if he weren't.

I had a dream last night that he had a tortoiseshell coat, with green on the head. And that all mathematicians had to run 4-minute miles. What an interesting combination. There was another long complicated movie dream, but I think it was just a recreation of Children of Men. The main thing I remember was a synchronized blackening with spraypaint of all of the security cameras in the world.

Turquoise Rita

Once, when I drank in public more because I had a horrid job working for people who's only mission in life was to be well-dressed, I asked for a "blue drink." The bartender, since it was slow, amused me and himself, and came up with a drink he called "Windex." I don't think I've ever been to Z'Tejas. Or, if I had, I don't remember it. But if I had, I'm sure I'd remember the Turquoise margarita.

• Rose's lime juice
• 2 ounces Patron Silver tequila
• 1 ounce blue curacao
• 2 ounces sweet and sour mix
• 1 fresh lime wedge
• Coarse salt
• Ice

Pour a little Rose's lime juice into a saucer or shallow dish, and coarse salt in second dish (about 1/8" deep). Dip the rim of a pint glass (the 14-ounce pilsner variety) in the juice, and then the salt. Set aside.

Fill a shaker with ice, and add tequila, curacao and the sweet and sour mix. Cover and shake vigorously. Pour the drink and the ice into the salt-rimmed glass. Squeeze lime wedge into the drink and plop it on in to drink.

I 'm warm.

I 'm warm.
Originally uploaded by mikapon.

I borrowed the picture from mikapon because I don't have any new pictures of anything vaguely normally. Aielli did a search on "cold" - so far we've got Muddy Waters "Cold Weather Blues", Guy Clark's "Expose", and Crosby, Stills and Nash "Cold Rain". Yep. It got turned off. Guess I need to charge the ipod battery.

Today is "catch up on everything I haven't done yet" day. A five day vacation was nice, I suppose, but I didn't really get much done. I could have been editing, but then I would have felt even more snow/ice bound than I did, as I would have been in front of the computer all the time.

The N&D is off to work. The dogs are outside, the cats are asleep on the bed. It's all back to normal.

Another Wintery day

cold seat
Originally uploaded by carabou.

Either we're getting bored of the cold, or it's warming up. No half inch of snow like weatherman predicted, but it's still cold and slushy outside. The dogs are going crazy in the house, so I turned on the electric heater in the dog room and put them out. They've got fur coats, and when we take them out for a run later, they'll already be acclimated to the cold. We're loving the names the news stations are giving the weather. "Ice Storm 2007!" If it freezes again, I wonder if it will be "Return of Ice Storm!"

I turned the thermostat (turned? No, actually, I punched a button) down to 68. I can breath easier with the cold, and it makes the cats more affectionate and snuggly. Nuncle and Esme were growly toward Tsuki this morning, so maybe I need to punch it down a little lower.

I have an acupuncture appointment today, but I'm hoping it's canceled (even though I walk there. I don't want my acupuncturist to drive on the ice. He's got kids). I'll call later to see. Got emails from most of the family. They're all doing okay (for the most part). The N&D needs to call his family to see how they're doing and to wish the MIL a happy birthday.

Snow day!

Snow!
Originally uploaded by carabou.

It's snowing! It's actually snowing! We're inside being lazy. I really want to see Children of Men, but don't feel like taking off my pajamas. hehehe. There's lots of people walking by our street, more than I've seen in a long time. I even emailed my dad to let him know it was snowing, and uploaded a silly video (with no sound) to youtube. I've seen snow before (drifts and mounds), but it's fun to see it in Austin.

Worms!

It's actually freezing outside. Wow.

Yesterday I spread some pea gravel on the side yard because the rain that is happening all at once rather than taking several months to descend turned it into a muddy mess. It looks good, but eight bags didn't make it all the way to the Pico fence (we have to lock her out of the side yard, otherwise she digs up all of my plants to sleep as close to the back door as possible. Plus, I got a little tired of troweling in pansies and finding large turds. Fun fun fun). So I'm braving the sleet and rain and writing "get more pebbles" on my list of things to do. I'm debating whether I want to visit the large home supply store just for pebbles. I might, but it's still under consideration.

I also added two bags of mulch to an unfinished project because I realized I've been deflocculating (I think that's the word) a spot of clay next to the dog room. I'll admit I'm too lazy to finish the greywater tank, but I really need to get on it. I've got the design, I've just got to get the motivation. Freezing weather is not motivating. (update from near&dear - "The ice is building up on the Subaru.")

I've started a new goal for the year. I'm going to eat vegetables from the garden (instead of being fascinated by the eggplant and tomato, I'm going to eat it).

And I'm going to grow worms. I've got the plans set out, and made of list of things I'm going to need to make it work. I've grown them before, but there was a die-off when our house-sitter firmly placed the lid on the interior worm bin while we were away, thus suffocating them. Poor things. We came home to dead, dessicated worms all over our kitchen floor. It was rather depressing.

So -- worms, veggie garden, and side yard. It's freezing outside, and I'm doing what I should be doing: making plans.

Lemon Bars and the chance for snow

I made lemon bars last night. They were almost perfect. The shortbread was a little off, and I learned a lesson on parchment paper use and lemon bar making. I didn't take a picture of them before I cut them (and these are intense lemon bars, so an 8" x 8" square became over 16 lemon bars 1" x 1.5-2" in size, with some "pieces" left over for breakfast). So my quest for the perfect lemon bar will hopefully end soon (when I find the perfect shortbread crust).

And! We're going to see a movie tonight. Possible Arthur and the Invisibles, or maybe the Curse of the Golden Shower, or possibly Children of Men. I like living in a city with more than one movie theater.

43 Things!

So I've joined 43 things and have six things that I'm working on. I just posted a listing for my progress on going through the bookshelves and removing all of the clutter (also known as cheap insulation, but they get dusty and books emit odors). I've listed three books that I've read on half.com (and if they don't sell in a week, they're going to the free shelf at cafe caffeine). Listed to sell: The Light Ages, Silverlock, and Sextopia. To read: The Wellness Book (bought as a hint to the N&D), Politics of Women's Biology (left by roommate and migrated to my bookshelf), and In Memoriam to Identity (bought at the local anarchist bookstore, but it's Kathy Acker and she's not exactly airport literature).

Oh, and the litterbox cat training thing isn't going so well. The cat keeps drinking out of the toilet, so it's lid-stays-closed time for us. Must ... remember ... in ... middle ... of ... night ...

sweet, sweet sushi

sweet, sweet sushi Originally uploaded by carabou.

I'm not as annoyed as I was a few days ago. I guess I was just going through anger issues related to the lack of oxygen in my brain from all of my asthma and cedar issues. But yay to TCM and NAP! I can breathe!

But now I'm all depressed and wigged out so I got up last night at crazy early (it wasn't even today yet) and made petit fours. I don't know why I had to make petit fours, but I did. Even more important, I had to make sushi petit fours. Yes. I had to make sushi petit fours. But I really goofed up the petit four icing (I've never made petit fours before) so it ended up looking a lot more like rice cake (mmmm) than I had originally expected (at least on some of them).

I still had (and have) fondant in my pantry, so next was the shrimp, but I learned my lesson about the important of taste and in the future I will be attempting molded and baked merengue shrimp with something else as the wasabi (almond paste?). The fondant is too dense and gross. It needs to be lighter and crisp or at least just tasty. Maybe an almond cookie cookie would work. I'll have to think about that.

Knife Skills

So my gift to myself from N&D (I know) was a really nice Santoku knife (shen). And we were going to take a knife basics class at CM to learn how to use and sharpen our lovely new knives. But they're sold out. And the corresponding knife basics class at Whole Foods is this Saturday, when we're going to be in Houston. Not so great. It's like the universe wants us to cut ourselves or something. Agh. (And I made a little spiteful post I had up go away because I don't feel so spiteful anymore. But in honesty, if you want to see it, let me know.)

Huh? Manners went where?

So I get this email from an acquaintance (a coworker of my N&D):

Do you remember last night when I said that you were looking attractive & stylish, to which you replied with an insulting comment about how I must be stoned and shouldn't be allowed to drive? This is not the first time you've needlessly shot down acclaims from me, though this time I've taken note.
I should no longer bother to pay you compliments. You can make all the self-depricating declarations you want, but when you attack a real friend for thinking well of you. Well, you fucked up and hurt some feelings.
I apologize for having to express this in email, but I felt too uncomfortable last night to explain my feelings in person.

So the thing is, he really was stoned and my comment was regarding a different conversation about who should drive. And if he truly was my friend, he would know that I generally ignore any comments regarding my appearance as I find them to be rude, shallow, or often both. So where does white privileged boy get off thinking he has the right to describe his opinion but I don't have the right to state a more immediate reality? He pulls an attitude that doesn't even border on pretension -- it is -- and he thinks I've "hurt some feelings"? I don't get it. So I email back in veiled jokey-sarcasm just how white and privileged he's acting, but he's so there (and it's email) that it slides right over him. And when we finally do actually see each other, his first comment is so disgustingly snobbish, it sets me off. I know he's smart, and no one could be raised to be this obtusely annoying, so he's doing it on purpose.
Whatever happened to the idea that if you don't want to hang out with someone, you just stop hanging out with them?