Our downstairs neighbors seem to have moved out, taking their yippy dog and tickle fights with them. Now, sadly, there is nothing to complain about.
My friend BriGuy is in town for a few days. He moved in one of those early-2000 years that all blur together and smell like Busch Lite and Hamburger Helper. He will always have a place in my heart for introducing me to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. We made him go to the Pio, which of course is no longer called The Pio. He said it was like a homely girl next door that grew up to be a model -- but you weren't sure that was a good thing.
I went to my friend Blitz's house on Sunday for an open house, and saw these antlers hanging in his tree. Long story short: He actually took a hacksaw to road kill. I can't think of a single thing in the world that he could do that would be more out of character. I'm going to make him divulge each and every gory detail during our 2-plus hour run on Saturday, which I will again be pretending is a parade since I stopped training in about March.
In other news from the past week:
Spicy Potato and Kale Soup: I prefer to call this "meat soup" because the best part is finding a mini medallion of spicy Italian chik'n floating in a sea of kale and hidden under a potato rock. I think I can change the name, because I mixed it up a bit and used a different kind of potato and didn't peel it and used more kale and more meat than it called for.
This was so good. I never eat broth soups. I felt I was on vacation in a prison.
Saag Tofu: This one made me a little nervy. In the final stages, when you mix a spice-doctored nonfat yogurt with the spinach and tofu there is an overwhelmingly yogurty smell. But the mustard seeds wage a war against it, and the result is a nice fake-Indian dish. I liked it.
The Writing Class by Jincy Willett: I took enough creative writing classes in college to know exactly who Jincy Willett is talking about when she introduces Tiffany, the student who combs every piece of writing for evidence that women are being portrayed in a way that is demeaning. I also recognized the doctor, who plunked down a dictionary-sized novel-in-progress on the first day of class, and Carla — little talent, but in the front row every semester, parroting back -isms from the professor.
Willett’s most recent novel, The Writing Class, is a satirical poke at those dozen-or-so people who meet once a week to workshop stories, turned murder mystery.
Full review here.
Cloverfield Is there a greater scene in any movie than when these 20-something dolts rush outside in the early stages of loch ness-esque invasion and the statue of liberty's head comes skittering down the road toward them? Having now seen this movie twice, I will probably never watch it again. I can't decide if that is good or bad.
Hannah and Her Sisters: Gah. I love this film. I freakin' love Woody Allen. Who else has such a powerful voice that every single character in every single movie sounds like his incarnation? Be it Mia Farrow or Scarlett Jo?
Weeds - Season 4 While it is Kevin Nealon who makes this sing, I absolutely love Mary Louise Parker. She has the ability to always look like clothes just fell from the sky and landed on her body, but still be naked. She's fascinating.