What, already?
What can I say? We eat, we drink, we work, and here we are.
2007.
Happy New Year, folks.
They say timing is everything. And tonight, I photographed Jay opening a mini bottle of champagne (freebie!) and guess what was in the frame?
What are the odds of that?
Seems like I’m asking a lot more than I’m answering in this post, so here are some answers.
Yes, No, and Pork Fat.
You figure out the questions.
When you have a family of architects, builders, real estate agents, remodelers, and all-around hands-on people, a gingerbread building competition becomes a very complicated affair.
Jay had to build a mid-century modern house. His dad built the Denver Art Museum extension designed by Daniel Libeskind. His brother Luke made an APARTMENT COMPLEX, with, I might add, a reflecting pool.
My contribution to the world of gingerbread house-buildingâ€â€and why is it “gingerbread” when nothing is actually gingerbread?â€â€was an A-frame house with a certain kitty on the side. If you do not recognize the feline, I have TOTALLY failed in my marshmallow art.
The competition was one of the highlights of our recent Denver trip. There was plenty of eating, general lazing around by Dot, some gorgeous snow, a poker game or two, and lots of family.
You haven’t lived until you have seen what graham cookies, icing and jelly beans can do.
How old am I?
Doesn’t matter.
How old do I FEEL?
Very.
Especially when I’m watching Bands Like This.
I met a friend I’d never met before last nightâ€â€long story, another postâ€â€and he was hanging out with his buddies in El Corazon, a divey bar where a friend of his was playing in a band called Lessons in Regret.
That’s them in the photo. His friend Greg is the bass guitarist on the right. Before you click on a sample, allow me to give you fair warning that this is classified as “Hard Core” music.
We have already determined that Dot does not do well with music.
Throw in a mosh pit, a hard core band, and indistinguishable lyrics earnestly shouted by a rather geeky-looking dude, and you have to medicate me.
Which I did. Self-medicate, that is.
Nothing like two Coronas and a couple sips of Jagermeister to make it all sound like a lulluby.
It is age, isn’t it?
Did I ever mention how much I love lighthouses?
We spent part of Christmas Day walking in Discovery Park. As everyone knows, I am not good with green thingsâ€â€like grass, parks, gardens, plantsâ€â€so I was surprised to be vertical and with a heartbeat at the end of this walk. Even Jay commented, “Wow, you’re walking a lot faster than before!”
[Translation: "Wow, you sure are not complaining as much as you used to!"]
There’s always something when I’m in a park. I’ve got to pee! Wait for me! This is too steep! I’ve got to pee!
But the expectation of seeing the lighthouse kept me going.
Since I was little, I always wanted to live in a lighthouse. In my fantasy, there was a typewriter, a weathered wooden table and chair, and a lighthouse. And I would look out onto the ocean, and write all day long.
How quaint that seems now.
These days, I wouldn’t dream of moving into a lighthouse without a DSL connection and cable TV. Yes, Cable TV, so I can watch the sea waves crash over The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.
It’s button mania time!
I could not wait to open my presents this morning! I had bugged Jay to let me open what he got me since the large heavy parcel appeared under our fake tree a week ago.
I am now the proud owner of a brand new button maker!
Beware.
Be warned.
If you thought I wore too many pins before, you will see me practically covered in pins from today on.
I know you’re wondering. So yes, that is a Yanni, an Andy Warhol, and two Borat pins.
And I promise not to wear them ALL at the same time.
Can you guess the EXACT amount of money in this glass jar?
Can you?
CAN YOU?
Well, I can.
As part of the Christmas tradition here with Jay’s family in Seattle, a jar of coins and dollars is passed around the table and everyone has to guess how much money there is in there. The winner (i.e. person with the closest guess) gets to take home the jar for a year and prepare it for the following year’s Christmas Eve party.
I guessed $29.45.
Dude.
Don’t be hatin’.
But do you know what the exact amount was?
$29.42.
That’s like 3 cents off.
I’m so brilliant I can solve The NYT Sunday Crossword Puzzle.
I’m so brilliant I can figure out the Rubik’s Cube blindfolded.
I’m so brilliant I need sunglasses.
Hel-lo!
Someone smack me with that jar to stop me from grinning!
P/S In case I wasn’t clear enough, I AM THE WINNER!
The Cheese + Fish thing is so overdone. Plus I’ve noticed an alarming trend of cream cheese in sushi. Personally, I’d rather jump in front of an ice-cream van than eat my raw fish with cream cheese.
I can’t help my love-hate relationship with cheese.
Now this little gem was part of a bento lunch I had Thursday.
From the outside, it looked like a fishcake with Panko crumbs, deepfried. Yummy, right?
You know when your mouth is expecting, say, chocolate ice cream, but when you take a bite, it’s wasabi ice cream?
WELL.
There was a slice of melted yellow cheese (don’t ask me what kind) hidden between the folds of the fishcake.
WHOA!
I pulled it out of my mouth, stared at it (and photographed it, of course), took another bite, and er, ate the rest of it.
Yummy.
I met a man in the elevator today. He was carrying this. This is Humphrey the Humping Dog.
He saw me looking at him, looking at it, and said, “Don’t ask.”
I couldn’t tell if he was giving the gift or getting the gift.
I guess that’s what happens when “Don’t Have A Clue,” otherwise known as “Christmas Shopping,” occurs.
I totally felt for the guy.
I just spent a fruitless two hours searching for gifts for people I don’t know very well, but who are family, nevertheless. At this rate, the Humping Dog is looking very good.
I figured people tend to give what they like, so I tried to remember what we got from them last year. I started following people of a certain age into stores and listening in on what they liked. I had no idea.
How do you buy a present?
Do you buy them something YOU think is cool, but which most probably misses the mark because it is too “trendy,” too inappropriate, too corny? Do you buy them something you think THEY will like, but which most probably misses the mark anyway because your idea of them is totally off base as you never talk to them 364 days out of the year?
Or, do you buy them something other people SIMILAR to them seem to like, but which you would never think of because you never walk into those stores that they usually shop at anyway? (Unless you are following little old ladies into random stores?)
What in blazes do I do?
Humphrey is looking good. And I need a beer.
I recently put a “starter” gnome on my office table. He’s all of three inches tall. (He even came in a box that said “Starter Gnome.”) If either of us think the relationship isn’t working out, we can bail out. No questions asked. That’s why he’s a “starter.”
Lately, I’ve been needing the services of a good gnome. Not that I know what a gnome does, except to look gnome-y, but I’ve always wanted one for the yard, and so, I got one.
Some of you might think it’s creepy he’s starting at me while I write, but I guess that’s what makes this trial size so appealing. If his Gnom-e-ness wears me out, he’s outta there faster than you can spell k-i-t-s-c-h.
I wish life were filled with “starter” options.
Trial-sized jobâ€â€Try it for two days or two weeks, who cares? Trial-sized friendsâ€â€Converse for two hours, no obligations! Trial-sized hairâ€â€Not pulling off the style, return the haircut!
It’s like having a giant BACKSPACE or CTRL-Z button in Life.
Japanese snacks never fail to make me smile. Even when they look as oddly forlorn as this.
I can’t really tell of the character is crying or just so madly in love that her eyes are welling up with hearts.
Whenever I feel like I’m having a tough day at the office, I break into my snack stash. On rare occasions, it hurts more than it helps.
But mostly, the sight of the snack and/or its packaging just fills me with unexplainable happiness and makes me want to go out and adopt a panda, save the rainforests, and/or start a fund for orphaned anime characters.
I mean, look at this box! I have no idea what Big Heads represent or what the words mean, but those giant black eyes are killing me!
I’d like to think this snack was my love letter to myself. One of those “Break Open In Emergency” gags (like a cigarette in a glass box, not that I smoke).
Tough Day?
No Problem.
The Big Heads think I’m awesome.
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