blogs t r e t c h

between a roux and a bechamel

Thursday, July 30, 2009

(on me having never been to the Tabard Inn, and fixing that problem this weekend)

Kate: we will order an extra round of doughnuts for the occasion!
me: that's the best sentence i've ever heard

To come: more totally mundane and uninteresting posts about what I am and am not eating. My life is not particularly thrilling right now.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

lazy bones

i spent my entire commute home dreaming up the dinner i'd make when i got home -- sauteed shrimp/avacado/white bean salad and gazpacho. but i'm exhausted and feeling excessively lazy right now. so instead i'm ordering a pizza.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Save Our Safety Net

My roomate Greg has been hard at work (seriously... around the clock for several days now) to launch the Save Our Safety Net campaign. Its goal is to convince the DC government that slashing 52 million dollars from social services isn't the best way to balance the budget. There's much more information at Pitch in: sign the petition and spread the word, if you're so inclined.

Friday, July 24, 2009

"I feel like my whole heart just got slimed"

'bout sums it up.

I watched two movies last night. 500 Days of Summer -- which I liked, despite a few ill-advised gimmes and an uncomfortably familiar story arch -- and Dead Snow. Yes, that's right. The Nazi zombie movie. It's as awesome as you think it is. I don't want to give anything away, but as a PSA I'll just suggest this: if you find yourself in a setting that could potentially take on similarities to a horror movie (like, say, joining your sexy teen friends for a ski weekend on the top of the highest peak of middle of nowheresville), you should not follow the unattractive dude out to the outhouse and do the nasty with him while he's pooping. You will die. You will definitely, definitely die.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009


Looking for entertaining summer television that's not on HBO? You should start watching Eureka! Tonight's the third episode of the new season (its fourth). This write up is pretty good, but doesn't quite do it justice. I always get excited when I see this one on my DVR; it's got great characters and an interesting conceit (a town populated entirely by geniuses developing new technology, and the non-genius sheriff who saves the day when their mad cap experiments go awry). I've got the first season on DVD (available for borrowing), and 2 and 3 seem to be on Hulu. It's light without being dumb, and makes for great summer tv worth watching.


Molly the dog is home! She was returned last night. That's all I know right now. Such a happy ending to a terrible story.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Please excuse my language, but this has to be said.

Dear Girl That Used to be on The Hills and I Guess Has Her Own Show Now --

Shopping is hard! You and I both know it, girl. You have a profound understanding of this topic, since you're In Fashion and all. So I understand putting on a few ill-conceived items every now and again. Believe me, I've worn some ridiculous shit in my day. And I'm not even In Fashion! So please take this advice with a grain of salt.

Here goes: when you're looking for a bikini -- one to wear on your rigorously earned beach body, atop your meticulously hairless skin -- you might want to avoid swimsuits that give the distinct impression of a giant, untamed muff.

blogs t r e t c h

awesome: Jimmy Carter leaves southern Baptist church because of sexism

not awesome: MCA has cancer

Probably the best part of my weekend

was making lots of jokes about the phrase "nut butter," thanks to yesterday's crossword.

Friday, July 17, 2009

An Upstairs/Downstairs Affair

Aside from landslides bringing me down this morning, another really huge thing happened. HUGE. Let me start with a bit of history.

When we first moved into our Bloomingdale manse in October, we quickly noticed that there was a really pretty little kitty that lived, it seemed, on our back door step. She was there night and day, rain and shine. And she was, it became clearer and clearer, with kittens. (As in, knocked up.) I am a sucker of the highest degree, so, worried that she was spending all her time getting whatever residual warmth she could from our back door instead of hunting and scavenging like a good feral city cat should, I started to feed her. I had a box of food that Stinker had deemed inedible, so here and there I'd leave some out for Back Door Kitty.

It wasn't long before I came down one morning and Back Door Kitty was WAILING for my attention. She was pacing back and forth, meowing with all her might till I came out to see what was going on. She had brought me a present (the kind cats bring you, meaning, a dead mouse). She was effectively claiming me as her person. So I, being the aforementioned sucker that I am, started feeding her every morning. The kittens that she was carrying never materialized... which, of course, stressed me out. But she was an adolescent mother on the streets, I can't hold her accountable for whatever happened. So thus started my relationship with Back Door Kitty.

All the while, my inside kitty, Stinker, was dealing with her presence as well. At first they'd stare at each other through the glass, sometimes even doing inexplicably adorable things like each putting up a paw at the same time. I thought, oh! They like each other! Brilliant! But one day, I opened up the glass door, leaving only the grate in between them, and the chorus of hissing and snarling that resulted was one for the record books. I decided not to push the issue and keep them apart; Back Door Kitty is, after all, all sorts of feral and without any shots and pretty dirty and probably not the kind of girl I want sinking her claws into my Stinker. Literally -- I don't want her to scratch or bite him and give him anything. Regardless, we've carried on this routine; every morning I give Stinker a can of his expensive food (the only kind he'll eat, the snob), and give Back Door Kitty a can of whatever was on sale that week. They both express gratitude. Stinker cuddles up to me and spoons with me while I sleep. Back Door Kitty almost lets me get close enough to pet her. It's a nice little family, on two sides of the door.

So, this morning I fed the kids, and went outside to water my plants. Back Door Kitty did what she always does -- skidded away maintaining at least a foot between us, meowing as if to ask, what are you trying to pull, food lady? I went about my business, but I must have left the door ajar. Stinker -- whose greatest pleasure in life is sniffing around out of doors -- had stepped outside onto Back Door Kitty's perch. And when I turned around to go back inside, I found that she had joined him. They were engaged in a full on nuzzle fest. Neither made a peep. They were just sniffing and paling around and being friendly. All this time I thought they'd become enemies across class lines, when in fact, they'd developed a kinship. Fed by the same hand, these two appear to be rather fond of each other. It was really fucking cute.

Hopefully next time this happens, I'll have my camera on me. And I can use the blogging for it's purest purpose: posting pictures of my cat(s).

My morning so far

me: i've changed 3 times already
and can't seem to get away from looking like stevie nicks no matter what i put on today
is my wardrobe trying to tell me something?
phoebe: roll with it!
if it makes you feel better
i'll try to dress like her today too
me: great!

At this point, I walk downstairs, relay my Nicksian concerns to my new roomate, who tells me that I sort of look like Stevie Nicks every day. I decide to take this as a good thing. Gold dust and all.

I go to the cafe, walk in, and in line in front of me is another woman, with wild hair and a big flowy belted skirt and layers on top.

Then Aaron and I start talking about the Iraq, and the Fringe festival, and I say that the dance show I'm seeing tomorrow seems good and weird, and he says, "that's what you want from the fringe festival, right? weirdness, and nakedness?"


Then I get on da tubes, and read this (further cementing my internet crush on Alex Balk) and watch this (further making me OD on twee and sugar and colors and pseudo-French film), and read The Awl's newsletter wishing me a "very sexy weekend," and I realize, today really is Stevie Nicks day, everybody. I hope you're all participating.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

the best Internet in months

me: this morning i passed a truck
for some marble & tile company
David Allen Co.
The G: hahahahah
me: also, i'm so glad you got that. thank you for being my friend.
The G: johnny paycheck
also wait
wasnt DAC in some sort of crazy band with dimebag darrell. do you know what i'm talking about or am I hallucinating.
me: yes i think you're right
i remember being drunk and downloading those mp3s
The G: yeah
damn lemme google this shit
okay i could not have told you thats what that band was called but okay
The G: soooo i now know where my remaining funds on my itunes are going
thanks aunt bananas
me: anytime!
The G:
me: haaaaaaaa
thank you, america
The G: that
that is america
the webmaster is named "wizard"
the end
we have reached the end of the internet
and it is glorious
also on the forums someone by the name of "nugentrocks" is trying to sell DAC tix to a myrtle beach show
! ! ! ! ! ! !
there are so many things right about what I just typed!!!!!

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Read this right now.

One of my very favorite things to do in this life of mine is to get into long discussions with Spencer about hip hop. His Attackerman post about Jay-Z's hegemony will make you understand my feelings.

Monday, July 06, 2009


What a great weekend. Just up one side and down the other, awesome. It started off with a bike ride around town + dinner with Tyler (oh, how I miss you, friend), and some congratulations beers for Ben at Solly's. Which was actually incredibly packed and loud, but my friends are fun to talk to even in uncomfortable circumstances.

Friday morning Holly and I took a trip to Sweden, Maryland for some modular furniture and lingonberry sauce. I outfitted my back yard with some sweet duds, got a new bedspread, and apparently shocked the entire line of people waiting to eat when I said the words "Swedish Meatballs." A full conversation stop, heads whipping around to stare at me awkward whiplash fell upon the cafeteria line after I responded to Holly's question of what I was going to get. It was sort of inexplicable. A nap and some house project time later, we went to Sticky Rice for a quick bite, then to Nat's park! I had never been before! It is pretty awesome! And Sam and Dan were there, so the whole experience pretty much gets an A+. We capped off the night with some stooping at Andrew's, as all Bloomingdale nights should.

Holly was my partner in crime all weekend; Saturday we spent the day getting supplies for the Big Bear 4th of July extravaganza. I thought that two cases of sparklers would be too much. It was, in fact, not enough; tons of people brought tons and tons more, and the huge crowd of party people went through them all. And it was great. Really an awesome, awesome party. The Big Bear 4th of July is officially my favorite event of the year, after two consecutive summers of just being the best. Amazing food, great music, a huge dance party, roof top fireworks viewing (the citizen fireworks displays in DC are really phenomenal). It was glorious.

Sunday, I did my weekly big bear/farmers market ritual trip and made a blueberry cobbler. The intended destination of the cobbler was out to The Manor, where Josh so kindly invited us to visit. The cobbler was a total fail -- I used about twice as much fruit as I should have, so there's a thin crust atop what is essentially blueberry soup. Still tasty, but not Manor-worthy, so it got left in the city. Josh got off a plane, came to bloomingdale, picked us all up, and drove us out to his absurdly amazing little slice of heaven out in Virginia (because Josh is the nicest person in the universe). 100 and some odd acres of woodlands and wetlands and river and a swimming pool and a house with so many doors I got really turned around and bathrooms with heat lamps and... trust me, it was amazing. We cooked out and took a really cold swim, pumped some fat jams, watched some buy-one-get-two-free fireworks go boom, and all pretty much passed out after a really long, really great weekend.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

From the You Can't Make This Shit Up files

"C. Thomas Howell will host a CMT reality show about extreme Americans, featuring people who races ostriches and juggle chainsaws."

That's from Jezebel's Dirt Bag feature -- my personal favorite access point to unnecessary gossip. My personal favorite C. Thomas Howell vehicle has always been Side Out, the harrowing tale of a young legal intern who moves out to California to sell his soul to the devil serving eviction notices to poor unsuspecting individuals on behalf of his super rich uncle, but gets sidetracked by the alluring, seedy underworld of competitive beach volleyball. It's got everything you could ever want in a terrible summer sports movie -- a suffocating array of neon clothing, Courtney Thorne-Smith, a slow motion cheering scene, a scandal involving an athlete betting against himself and throwing the big match, sexy naked time in a swimming pool. It's probably playing on channel 20 as we speak, so just turn on your tv and enjoy this gem from 1990.

Of course, my second favorite C. Thomas Howell performance is Soul Man, an unparalleled commentary on Affirmative Action. And of course, you can't talk about C.Tom without mentioning his big screen debut in E.T. He played Tom Howell, a character I've heard he wasn't quite sure how to really empathize with. The pathos he brought to that scene around the dinner table, and the speed with which he rode his bike were what really made this movie something special.

This is the single greatest collection of YouTubes ever assembled

Happy birthday, GFY. I dedicate everything you posted here to Abby, the nearly dearly departed. Please don't go, girl.