Monday, February 4, 2013

Leaving Las Vegas ...

My parents were in town this weekend and a waitress tried to poison my fetus by putting champagne and vodka in my mocktail. Good thing I know my booze. It was fun to imagine if I'd not noticed, drank two and tottered home acting all slurry. We would have thought I was feverish, hallucinating. 

What if I'd been an alcoholic, though, and that pomegranate spritzer would have tossed me back into Leaving Las Vegas? SO MUCH FAN FICTION!

Anyway, here's the roundup.
Ghostly likeness
New Scenic Cafe: Sometimes it seems like all of your friends are Instagramming the same great fondue from the same great restaurant in the same week. That's how we ended up at New Scenic (although minus the fondue).

Also fun: Eavesdropping on conversations from groups who are constantly referencing people you kind of know, but don't know-know and using all of your neck might to not turn around and see who is sitting at the table. (But looking far enough to see a woman who was part of a panel discussion with you in the early oughts and remembering that when it was over you sprinted off the stage in shame, declined the offer of coffee and cookies, drove immediately to the bar and somehow managed to get 'faced while bouncing your forehead off the tabletop and mourning your own lack of self actualization. LIFE!

That said: Here's my contribution to the food photos.

House salad with grapes and crispy filo dough and vinaigrette 

Butternut Squash Ravioli
Dessert with French name that includes candied blueberries and my favorite food, lemon curd.
9 To 5: Is it just me, or was this movie on TV every day in the early 1980s? I distinctly remember sitting in my grandparent's living room on a Sunday night while it played in the background. Somehow I came to associate Dabney Coleman with my Grandpa Smittley. I have no idea of its accuracy, but in my fan fiction, he is the kind of man who would have chased Dolly Parton around a desk. And I'm not sure how this is logistically possible, but I don't mean that in a terrible predator way.

Peggy Sue Got Married: Can someone do the math for me on how Kathleen Turner can play Helen Hunt's mother? I understand logistically that Kathleen Turner needs to seem like she is both in her 40s and 18 in the same movie. Still, weird. Anyway, Man. What a golden flick.


Opening sentences would have been: "The pan was quiet. Not even a sizzle. How was she to know that she had burned her grilled cheese sandwich?"

Calling Dr. Laura: A Graphic Memoir: This is a cute and grim story of a woman who has been told all of her life that her father is dead, only to find out after her 23rd birthday, that he is actually alive. (From a psychic).

Full review will be here.


starfire said...

The ravioli comes frozen in a bag!

Christa said...

No! Say it ain't so!