lillbet: (PICKLES!)
I. Making a batch of PDQ (ie 24hr) pickles. They are a quickie version of absolutely nomtastic bread'n'butter pickles. My fave. I'll definitely finish them before I leave. I say again: Noms.

II. Got an email yesterday about a new exhibit coming up at the Met's Costume Institute: Schiaparelli and Prada, Impossible Conversations. And the cousins I was going to visit in LA are going to be here in DC by the time I get to their neck of the woods. Which proves that life happens when you're busy making other plans and there is never a "good" or a "right" time to do anything. Truth. In the immortal words of Nike: Just do it.

III. Joined the San Diego Museum of Art mailing list. Balboa Park is one of my favorite places in SD. My only quibble is that museums charge fees out there, but that just means I'm going to pick my outings carefully. And the park is worth a visit any time. Can't wait!

IV. Here's a deep, dark sekrit: Shhhhh... )

V. Friend of mine from college is coming over next week to help me move some things back to my folks' house and tell me what boxes he can store for me. I've emptied out my linen closet, thrown away a lot of the paper I've been trucking around- program from college crew dinner? GONE. Things are getting done. Feels really good. :)
lillbet: (Giggle!)
HAHAHAHA! I have 17 (18?) followers on Tumblr and I get a few notes once in awhile, but I just posted about bacon chocolate chip cookies on my Tumblr and got 7 reblogs/likes in one day. Clearly, I need to include bacon in everything. CLEARLY.

Changed the plan for NYC- going up on Sunday morning with Patti and coming back that night. I hate up-and-backs when it comes to New York, but in terms of money and time it seemed more sensible to save my resources for the drive.

Walk through in a day or two. Need to start collecting boxes. Getting rid of things. I'm at the point where my stuff is comprised of Books, Gifts, Cooking Stuff, Clothes. Bike Stuff, Furniture. Everything else is Garbage.

Things I would love to get rid of before I go- the giant box of film negatives and prints, and the giant box of CDs. I'm seeing a day at the farm just loading up iTunes. Yick. I'm going to find out how much it would be to transfer all the photo stuff and whether it would be worth it to buy a photo scanner instead.

Next up- new DSLR. Yeah, still haven't gotten it yet and it's ANNOYING. Leaning toward the Nikon D5100, but want to try the Canon T3i before I slap down a wad of cash. Just to see how the camera feels in my hands.

Making peppermint brownies and something with coconut milk in it today. Haven't even opened a single can of the stuff and I'm already sick of it. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
lillbet: (*hug*)
My router kicked out on Saturday so I called Netgear to see what was up and OH SORRY YOUR WARRANTY RAN OUT. GIVE US $$$ AND WE WILL FIX IT FOR YOU. Me: "..." The guy from Comcast just left a few mins ago. He managed to coax the router back to life. :)

Told the aunt and uncle and they were supportive and happy for me. They only said "expensive" once, maybe twice, but aside from that it was a great talk. The pitcher of St. Germaine cocktail with sparkling wine and club soda helped, I think. My aunt is pure gold- I know that part of her being who she is to me is that she's not my mother, but I still feel like she gets me liek whoah and that means so so much.

I really want to leave now and get started. I might fly out in a week or so with some stuff and just chill for a bit- introduce myself around town and put out some feelers. Better than sitting around, trying to plot ways to use up the baking stuff (I  have 5 cans of coconut milk. FIVE. When did I become a crazy coconut milk hoarding person?) and frittering away my savings.

Last two movies: Scre4m and Paul. If you can figure out the linky, let me know so I can tell you how awesome you are. (Also, in the case of Scre4m- do not watch the making of before the movie. SPOILERS.)

Next up: 30 Minutes or Less and Beginners. CHRISTOPHER PLUMMER. CHRISTOPHER. PLUMMER.

Weekend in NYC ahead! Bussing up on Friday morning and staying somewhere for two nights and then the play (THE PLAY. ALAN RICKMAN.) is on Sunday afternoon. Anyone have a spare couch or warm patch of floor I can use for two nights? Anyone?

Today I'm throwing out more stuff (ie going to the Goodwill), recycling a very old Vaio with a fried motherboard, picking up the Shuttle, and dropping off some yarn with [personal profile] sparkfrost at her place o' business. Can't wait. :)

FIVE CANS OF COCONUT MILK. Really?
lillbet: (Like Liz Lemon)
 Ugh. Suddenly feeling lousy as hell. It's the bad sleep and the stress, I think. Next two movies are going to be broad, stinking comedies. Or The Help and something else uplifting. So emotionally done right now. Luckily, going to a friend's birthday happy hour, so there's that to look forward to. And there are recipes I want to try. And stuff. A poem:


Post Hoc

by Jennifer Maier

It happened because he looked a gift horse in the mouth.
It happened because he couldn't get that monkey off his back.
It happened because she didn't chew 22 times before swallowing.
What was she thinking, letting him walk home alone from the bus stop?
What was he thinking, standing up in the boat like that?
Once she signed those papers the die was cast.
She should have waited an hour before going in; everyone knows
salami and seawater don't mix.
He should have checked his parachute a seventh time;
you can never be too careful.
Why didn't she declare her true feelings?
Why didn't she play hard to get? She could be out at some
nice restaurant right now instead of in church, praying
for the strength to let him go.
It all started with that tattoo.
It all started with her decision to order the chicken salad.
Why was he so picky?
Why wasn't she more discriminating?
He should have read the writing on the wall; listened
to the still small voice, had a lick of sense. But how could he when he
was blinded by passion? Deaf to warnings? Really dumb?
Why, why, in God's name, did he run with scissors?
If only they'd asked Jesus for help.
If only they'd asked their friends for help.
If only they'd ignored the advice of others and held fast
to their own convictions, they might all be here, now,
with us, instead of six feet under; instead of trying to adopt
that foreign baby, instead of warming that barstool
at the Road Not Taken Eatery and Lounge, wondering how it might all
have been different, if only they had done
the right thing.

"Post Hoc" by Jennifer Maier, from Dark Alphabet. © Southern Illinois University Press, 2006. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)

lillbet: (Thinkie.)
Cued up London Boulevard with There Be Dragons after. Redbox is my new cinematic religion. Let us watch. :p

Last night was not a ton of fun. The upshot is that my mother wants me to do something that will be my career (um, DUR. SO DO I.), my dad is just worried about me in general, and the two of them are doing a crap job at dogsitting because Duchess is definitely backsliding a bit. *lol*

After good dinner and some arguing, copious red wine, and ice cream, I crawled into an uncomfy guest bed to stay the night. This morning at an ungawdly hour, Duchess kicked up a fuss- she'd really messed her kennel. I cleaned her up, cleaned it up, and settled on the couch and let her chew on my fingers for a bit. Truth is, she's to young to be trained and the aunt and uncle aren't doing it right- her kennel is too big, and there's too much space in it for her to be grossed out by her own... output.

Dad came down and made coffee and amends. Mom can down and proffered olive branches.

Stepped on the dog- something you always think is going to happen with a dog that size. She's okay. Let her lick my face to make up for it. I call her "D" or "Leddy D" (like in Amelie).

We've reached an understanding, the three of us, so I think things will be fine. Just want to get things going because the sitting around is going to drive me mad. The good thing is that they are taking back the bed and the dresser and the chair- all furniture from my grands and great grands that I don't want to tote around with me and don't want to junk or sell.

At one point, Dad said, "I've always sort of felt like you were a California person." Which was nice. I hope I am, I really do. 

FYT- puppy pics:

PUPPEH. )

May 2012

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