Sunday, January 30, 2011

Daddy Mack will make you jump start my car ...

I took an embarrassing amount of pleasure in jump-starting my own car this past weekend, considering I've been a licensed driver for more than half of my life. I can change a tire. I think. I might be reconfiguring memories, but I believe I've done it twice. The trickiest part has always been getting the spare out of my trunk, where I hide my inner hoarder. But once I get the garbage bags, toaster ovens, bathroom scale, tupperware, books, CD cases and cappuccino makers tetris'ed on the shoulder of the road, it is typically smooth sailing.

The jump start took a bit of research. I can never remember if it is red to red or red to black, which puts me in the same position as so many action movie heroes in so many action movies.

So I Googled it, then checked at least four more sites to make sure no one was fucking with me. Posting false information about how to jump start a car on the internet could be hilarious for an asshole.

Then I took Chuck's car and parked it in front of mine. Popped the hoods. Connected the wires. Started his car. Squinched my eyes real tight. Started my car.

Huzzah! It worked. I am another step closer to being a fully functioning human being. And maybe starring in "Space Camp."


On Saturday night I went to see a Doomtree show, doing my damndest to not look like a chaperon for what I assumed would be an influx of toddlers. This was super cool and I made a mental note to see put myself in a position to potentially get my mind blown more often.

It was chaos on stage. Five rappers zigging and zagging. It reminded me a street-side magician, hiding a white ball under one of three coconut shells. Try to keep your eyes on Dessa, only to be distracted by Sims.

I love, love, love Dessa, with a voice as big as her hoop earrings and enviable lines: "I'm not a writer, I just drink a lot about it."

And here is what happened the rest of the week: 

Indian Samosa Casserole: Another win. This looks a little trickier than it is. But it came out just divine. Divine, I say. (In the Before picture, this looks like a pie).

Eastern European Red Lentil Soup: Just how many recipes for lentil soup does one person need? I guess it is like curry, and there would be an on-going quest for the best. This one is more bland than I expected when I made it rain cumin in the pot.

The key here is the dollop of yogurt. That was the difference between "Meh" and "Ohhhh. Daddy like."

Chuck has been dabbling in sandwich-making, and the one that is winning all sorts of awards here is the Croque Monsieur, which basically is a melted ham and Swiss sandwich with a blanket of melted cheese over the top. These jerks are absolutely fantastic and the opposite of vegan living. Obviously the picture is stupid.

True Romance: This falls under the category of "things we watched because David Foster Wallace watched it." I can't believe I had never seen this fantastic hodgepodge of genres. You have to like a movie where A-list celebs make a cameo, then die in a truly gruesome way. And they all learn a thing or two about love.

Mr. Peanut (Borzoi Books): Some of the writing in this book about wives and the husbands who want to kill them will knock your socks off. Some of it is loopy and huh? But for the most part, Adam Ross writes his words in the exact order that I want to read them.

Someday this review will be at Minnesota Reads.

Right now I'm reading: Of Human Bondage (Signet Classics) by Maugham and The Four Fingers of Death: A Novel by Moody and both will be tossed out the window as soon as Popular Hits of the Showa Era: A Novel by Murakami lands in my hot little hands.

With that, have a great Ryu Murakami brings a new book to America week!


laurie said...

want to make that samosa thing immediately. Pleased to know that I have all the ingredients on hand so I may make this tomorrow or Wednesday.

True Romance-the scene where Alabama fights with Tony Soprano is one of my favorites of all time.

Christa said...

That was a good scene. I wanted to rewatch the movie before we were even halfway into it.