September 2009

First it was Joe Wilson, then Serena Williams and now Kanye West.

It looks like we might need to reinstate nap time.



I’m reading Animal, Vegetable , Miracle: A Year of Food Life By Barbra Kingsolver. It affirms pretty much everything I think about food and makes me want to grow a veggie garden. But considering that two summers and 12 tomato plants produced a grand total of zero tomatoes, I’ll continue to frequent the farmers market.

I’m cooking Roman Style Chicken. It wasn’t a hit. A pity as it took next to no time and looked attractive.

My latest lovely dinner out was at 54 Mint. The website is temporary and you can’t see the menu, but it was a fantastic Italian in an incredibly charming space. I had the Linguine Alla Pescatora and it was amazing. Fresh, with a light tomato based sauce. The Gnocchi was incredible as well. I’ll be back as there are several other things on the menu that looked interesting.

star trek

It’s confession time. I refuse to live in the shadows any longer.

I’m a closet Star Trek: The Next Generation junky.

I can’t get enough of it.

Sometimes when you aren’t working for awhile you develop odd habits. When you have no time constraints and a short to do list you find
yourself filling passing minutes in strange ways. When you haven’t had cable in like 6 years and you suddenly find yourself with access to
every channel known to man AND a DVR, things can spiral dangerously out of control.

Clearly this secret love didn’t come from nowhere. That’s correct. I unknowingly moved in with a Star Trek: The Next Generation fan (of
course this is not to be confused with an original Star Trek fan. I’ve convinced myself that there is something far sadder about that).

I grudgingly watched an episode while playing lexulous.  I found myself sort of paying attention. It was a three episode block, I
noticed I was really kind of listening the second episode. By the third episode I was asking questions. By the end I had it set to record nightly.

I knew I had to hide this from my loved ones.

So I’ve watched in secret. Not telling anyone. Guiltily pressing play and hoping nobody calls during an episode.

What is the attraction? Is it the guest appearances by Whoopi Goldberg as a wise bartender? The stoic leadership of Jean Luc Picard?
Counselor Troy’s annoying way of interfering with everything? Is it left over love for Levar Burton from his reading rainbow days (if you
didn’t watch that show as a child you probably can’t even read this entry you illiterate mouth breather!).

Well, it probably isn’t the fact that they had an episode where they traveled back in time and managed to work in Samuel Clemens AND Jack
London AND Data lost his head. But I digress.

I refuse to feel ashamed. The show can’t be that bad, it was on for 9 seasons! And it’s not like I question the shows scientific voracity,
or have hour long debates about Klingon death rituals. I simply enjoy the neatly packed hour long morality play.

So do yourself a favor, catch an episode or two (change the channel if they appear to be traveling back in time, that shit is just annoying).
You will be hooked.

Make it so.

Bizarre things are constantly left on the street. Like their owners were magically whisked away. 007

I’ve spent a lot of time the last few weeks wandering, trying to get acquainted with the city and various neighborhoods. I leave a trail of breadcrumbs to find my way home.  So far I’ve dealt with angry bus drivers who don’t want people to bring garbage on their bus (cue Chris Farley “Good, Great, Grand. NO YELLING ON THE BUS!!”),  a less than perfect sense of direction and a refusal to ask for directions or help, yet I have not gotten really truly lost.


14 Boxes. That is how many I shipped out here. Essentially my life fit in 14 boxes, two suitcases and a dog kennel (If you don’t count the stuff I’m storing in Krikels basement).

A brief rundown of the first few days:

Day 1: Try and calm down a pug that isn’t really a fan of flying, attempt to adjust to time change

Day 2: Interview

Day 3:  Get offered the job, do a serious happy dance and realize that I won’t be burning through savings and spending 8 hours a day looking for work.  An hour later be disappointed to learn that I gave ups the wrong zip code and the majority of my worldly possessions are floating somewhere around California. Find some relief in the fact that they should arrive Monday (it’s Friday).  Try not to think about my poor lovely pots and pans feeling lonely and abandoned in card board boxes.

Day 4: Realize that I have packed up my life, moved across the country without a job, interviewed for a job, gotten a job…all in the span of a few weeks.  Sleep. Soundly.

all packed up, safe and sound.

all packed up, safe and sound.