A couple of announcements.
First, a trip down to Cali is in the works for sometime in the last two weeks of February. Just need to confirm dates then we can plan a Hug Attack. This particular work trip promises to be full of productive crap as well. Which is always nice.
Second, I secured dates/tickets/places to stay for my Next Grand Adventure (NGA). NGA shall also feature my sister, which is a total bonus. Destinations include London, Munich/Salzburg, and Stuttgart for my friend's wedding. Hells to the Yes.
All in all, I'm feeling rather lordly at the moment. Don't worry, I'll try not to let it go to my head. But for now, I'm excited.
That is all.
1.28.2010
1.26.2010
1.25.2010
cheese & peanut butter
The last two weeks for me could be summed up rather easily: supermarket laziness. The store is not someplace I wish to be. Menus for the week are not something I want to spend my time on. Choosing between the tiny cart or the basket is not a decision I feel compelled to address at this particular point in time.
This, of course, has consequences. I ran out of bread 2 days ago. The main contents of my refrigerator are condiments and stray beer. Perhaps I could call those singles feral beer? People know not to approach them. They keep to themselves, hide in the corners, and tend to inexplicably multiply. There are exceptions to the no-shopping feeling. These exceptions are quite narrow in scope: coffee & half-n-half. That's the long and short of it.
All this open real estate in my fridge and pathetic scavenger hunt for something marginally nutritious for dinner last night (I wanted to read and watch movies and sit on my couch and not do anything) led me to a very important culinary question. How could I combine two things I love, two things that survive the feral beer colony, into one delicious food? How can cheese and peanut butter come together for the greater good? I didn't get very far with that question as I turned my attention to other "important" matters. But the thought I had when I woke up this morning was Apples. Apples are the answer. Apples bridge the gap. I'd go to the store to test out my theory today, but I think I'm busy.
This, of course, has consequences. I ran out of bread 2 days ago. The main contents of my refrigerator are condiments and stray beer. Perhaps I could call those singles feral beer? People know not to approach them. They keep to themselves, hide in the corners, and tend to inexplicably multiply. There are exceptions to the no-shopping feeling. These exceptions are quite narrow in scope: coffee & half-n-half. That's the long and short of it.
All this open real estate in my fridge and pathetic scavenger hunt for something marginally nutritious for dinner last night (I wanted to read and watch movies and sit on my couch and not do anything) led me to a very important culinary question. How could I combine two things I love, two things that survive the feral beer colony, into one delicious food? How can cheese and peanut butter come together for the greater good? I didn't get very far with that question as I turned my attention to other "important" matters. But the thought I had when I woke up this morning was Apples. Apples are the answer. Apples bridge the gap. I'd go to the store to test out my theory today, but I think I'm busy.
1.13.2010
Be a Caveman, Give Blood
I feel as if I'm letting an opportunity pass me by. I could be a caveman. Err, a cavewoman. Let me explain. There are a handful of enterprising young people in New York City who fancy themselves neo-cavemen. For health reasons. Because, you know, a life expectancy of 30 years is pretty good.
The rules: eat lots of meat; don't eat agriculture supported foods (such as bread); fruits and veggies are fine (though there is some debate as to the place of nightshades in the caveman diet). Oh, and fasting is always good. You never know where the next giant ground sloth will come from. The delightful article all this caveman knowledge comes from further explained, "These urban cavemen also choose exercise routines focused on sprinting and jumping, to replicate how a prehistoric person might have fled from a mastodon." Bonus! Exercise would be more fun as well. It could involve "scooting around the underbrush on all fours," rock jumping, and throwing rocks. I'm just going to throw sprinting and clambering up trees in there because that seems like a reasonable thing for cavemen to excel at. One final small detail to include (with the meat, running without shoes, and fasting) is to give blood early and often. Cavemen got hurt. They lost blood. Then they had to go wrastle a giant bear.
This is all to say that I could have been a caveman. If I'd only planned accordingly. I gave blood yesterday. If only I stocked my fridge with all variety of meat. I mean, I don't have woolly mammoths to contend with and it wouldn't be very nice to pick fights with bums in the park, either. And foolishly I went to see a movie rather than scooting around the underbrush. Perhaps next time.
The rules: eat lots of meat; don't eat agriculture supported foods (such as bread); fruits and veggies are fine (though there is some debate as to the place of nightshades in the caveman diet). Oh, and fasting is always good. You never know where the next giant ground sloth will come from. The delightful article all this caveman knowledge comes from further explained, "These urban cavemen also choose exercise routines focused on sprinting and jumping, to replicate how a prehistoric person might have fled from a mastodon." Bonus! Exercise would be more fun as well. It could involve "scooting around the underbrush on all fours," rock jumping, and throwing rocks. I'm just going to throw sprinting and clambering up trees in there because that seems like a reasonable thing for cavemen to excel at. One final small detail to include (with the meat, running without shoes, and fasting) is to give blood early and often. Cavemen got hurt. They lost blood. Then they had to go wrastle a giant bear.
This is all to say that I could have been a caveman. If I'd only planned accordingly. I gave blood yesterday. If only I stocked my fridge with all variety of meat. I mean, I don't have woolly mammoths to contend with and it wouldn't be very nice to pick fights with bums in the park, either. And foolishly I went to see a movie rather than scooting around the underbrush. Perhaps next time.
1.11.2010
still here.
I'm still here. I've got nothing terribly clever to say at the moment, so I'll leave you with some pictures I took this weekend. There will be more explanation at a later point.
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