Hello Darlings.
We really should have a wine party.
Friday, February 28, 2014
The drink we never had
I have a friend who's a bar manager at a place downtown. Few nights a week I help him close and make a little extra money. I love the smell of bars. Real bars. Not hotel or casino bars, they smell clean. I mean bar-bars that smell like stale beer because there's no place for the odor to ventilate, but out the front door.
For the past three weeks there's a guy who comes into the bar. He's there every night or so I was told. Handsome guy. Tall. Blonde. Blue eyes. Muscular. Stern. Clean cut and a little military looking. When I'm there, I notice he drinks 5-8 beers, has some dinner, hangs out and watches TV by himself.
I don't date, not really, and definitely not in the traditional sense. When I hang out with a guy, the night is already pre-planned. All I have to do is groom for the occasion and show up. Not much thought goes into it on my end. Even as a teenager a boy would call me and say, "I want to see this movie that's out now. Want to come with me?" and if I was interested I would just groom for the occasion and show up. He bought the tickets, popcorn, etc. ...
Being a woman in Los Angeles, single, no kids, is like a myth to some people. Unheard of. Quick! Kill it! Kill it!
I don't want rules, restrictions, or a road map to figure out what kind of mood you're in. I want unconditional love. I won't settle for less.
Some people cannot fathom why any woman would choose to be single. They poke at the subject with a proverbial stick. Pavlov's Dog.
But it got me thinking.
TUESDAY NIGHT
Hanging out at the bar, in walks the military blonde. I said hello to him and our communication beyond that was kept professional. Cordial.
When I left the bar that night I saw the military blonde in the parking lot having a cigarette. We didn't say hello or even acknowledge one another. He was smoking his cigarette. I was leaving to go home. Two ships passing in the night.
The military blonde smokes. That's a deal breaker for me. I really hate the smell of cigarettes. I used to smoke. 10 years. One and a half packs a day. You would think after the first lung infection I would have quit smoking. But I didn't quit until the second lung infection that grew into a respiratory tract infection. Then I quit.
But I was thinking,
Dinner. Drinks. Not a date. A meeting. To see if we wanted to go out on a date. I haven't been on a date in... forever.
WEDNESDAY NIGHT
I went to the bar. In walks the military blonde. I suck at making small talk when I have a personal agenda, and honestly I hate it when people "small talk" me when they have a personal agenda. Just say what you want.
But I attempt the small talk anyway.
"Just getting off work?" I ask.
"No. I'm staying down the street." he says. "Above [my friend's garage]"
"Oh yeah. I know where that is." I say.
"A friend of ours got married in Vegas last weekend. I'm just visiting." he further explains.
"Where are you from?" I ask.
"New Orleans." he replied. "Ever been?" he asked.
"No. But I would like to go some time during Mardi Gras." I reply.
"It's a good time to go." he says.
I then realize I should have congratulated his friend for getting married but I didn't think of it until afterwards. I'm horrible at small talk.
"A beer drinker." I say pointing out the obvious.
And for one split second the military blonde looked offended and pissed off. Oops! He didn't say anything. He just looked at me with a very serious and stern expression on his face.
"Because I've only been serving you beer," I say desperately trying to recover, "And there's a lot of Pubs in Los Angeles, and I was just wondering what your thoughts were of them and if you'd been to any other bars in the area. I mainly drink wine. Do you drink wine?" I asked nervous and uncomfortable.
Face palm!
"No. Just beer." he replied very matter of fact.
Well. Alrighty then. I just smiled at him, and then walked away.
When I saw the military blonde was ready for another round, I kept it very professional. No personal chit chat, and forget asking him out for a drink or dinner Friday night. I completely blew it.
"Why do American television shows have so many commercials?" the military blonde asked.
Um. Because I don't know?
"They have the same shows in London but with one commercial break, we have commercial breaks every 7 minutes." he said.
"Most people just DVR." I said. "And fast forward the commercials."
The military blonde said nothing.
As my Wednesday night came to an end, I explained to the military blonde I was leaving, and my friend would continue to take care of him. He instead closed out his tab and left. 10 minutes later I left.
Down the street from the bar is a liquor store. I stopped in to pick up a bottle of wine and ran into the military blonde who was buying cigarettes. He looked over his shoulder at me. I smiled at him, batted my eyelashes, held up the bottle of Fleur De Lyeth wine and said, "Wine."
The military blonde shot me a look of disgust.
"I know you don't drink wine, but if you're still in town Friday night maybe we can meet for a beer. I like beer too." I said.
Jesus Christ, I need therapy.
The military blonde looked me over for a few seconds and said, "Maybe. I fly back to New Orleans Saturday morning." Then he bought his cigarettes and left the liquor store without saying goodbye or goodnight.
Awkward.
When I left the liquor store I saw the military blonde standing by his car smoking a cigarette. He looked at me. I looked at him. And then I went home.
THURSDAY NIGHT
I go to my friend's bar. An hour later in walks the military blonde. He sat down on a bar stool directly in front of me. We make eye contact. He orders a Heineken, takes a sip of his beer while maintaining unbroken eye contact with me, then he stands up, and moves to a table furthest away from the bar where he continues to drink and watch TV. On occasion I catch the military blonde just staring at me - but we kept all communication between us for the remainder of the night professional.
At the end of the night I inform the military blonde I wasn't going to come in tomorrow night. The weather report said Los Angeles was in for a rain storm. I then wished the military blonde a nice flight back to New Orleans. He looked confused.
"Guess I'll have to drink some place else tomorrow night then huh?" he said very sarcastically. "Too bad. This is closest to my room above [his friend's garage]." Then he paid his tab and left the bar.
When I left the bar last night, I walked past where the military blonde said he was staying. The garage was dark and locked up, but the lights on the loft above the garage were all on, and the front door was open.
Did he purposely leave the front door open?
I waited to see if the military blonde would walk into the doorway. I considered going up the service steps to the loft and knocking on the open door. I considered the military blonde could be some nutcase who just got out of prison. I considered many things, like why did he keep the door open to begin with? Was he ok?
I lingered in front of the garage to see if the military blonde would come to the front door, even if just to close it. But he didn't. I considered going up just to see if he was ok, but what if he really was some nutcase axe murderer?
And so,
I continued home.
FRIDAY (NOW)
It's pouring out. I'm not going anywhere tonight. I wonder if the military blonde will go to the bar and wonder where I am?
Fleur De Lyeth the drink we never had.
Safe travels back to New Orleans.
Cheers.
For the past three weeks there's a guy who comes into the bar. He's there every night or so I was told. Handsome guy. Tall. Blonde. Blue eyes. Muscular. Stern. Clean cut and a little military looking. When I'm there, I notice he drinks 5-8 beers, has some dinner, hangs out and watches TV by himself.
I don't date, not really, and definitely not in the traditional sense. When I hang out with a guy, the night is already pre-planned. All I have to do is groom for the occasion and show up. Not much thought goes into it on my end. Even as a teenager a boy would call me and say, "I want to see this movie that's out now. Want to come with me?" and if I was interested I would just groom for the occasion and show up. He bought the tickets, popcorn, etc. ...
Being a woman in Los Angeles, single, no kids, is like a myth to some people. Unheard of. Quick! Kill it! Kill it!
I don't want rules, restrictions, or a road map to figure out what kind of mood you're in. I want unconditional love. I won't settle for less.
Some people cannot fathom why any woman would choose to be single. They poke at the subject with a proverbial stick. Pavlov's Dog.
But it got me thinking.
TUESDAY NIGHT
Hanging out at the bar, in walks the military blonde. I said hello to him and our communication beyond that was kept professional. Cordial.
When I left the bar that night I saw the military blonde in the parking lot having a cigarette. We didn't say hello or even acknowledge one another. He was smoking his cigarette. I was leaving to go home. Two ships passing in the night.
The military blonde smokes. That's a deal breaker for me. I really hate the smell of cigarettes. I used to smoke. 10 years. One and a half packs a day. You would think after the first lung infection I would have quit smoking. But I didn't quit until the second lung infection that grew into a respiratory tract infection. Then I quit.
But I was thinking,
Dinner. Drinks. Not a date. A meeting. To see if we wanted to go out on a date. I haven't been on a date in... forever.
WEDNESDAY NIGHT
I went to the bar. In walks the military blonde. I suck at making small talk when I have a personal agenda, and honestly I hate it when people "small talk" me when they have a personal agenda. Just say what you want.
But I attempt the small talk anyway.
"Just getting off work?" I ask.
"No. I'm staying down the street." he says. "Above [my friend's garage]"
"Oh yeah. I know where that is." I say.
"A friend of ours got married in Vegas last weekend. I'm just visiting." he further explains.
"Where are you from?" I ask.
"New Orleans." he replied. "Ever been?" he asked.
"No. But I would like to go some time during Mardi Gras." I reply.
"It's a good time to go." he says.
I then realize I should have congratulated his friend for getting married but I didn't think of it until afterwards. I'm horrible at small talk.
"A beer drinker." I say pointing out the obvious.
And for one split second the military blonde looked offended and pissed off. Oops! He didn't say anything. He just looked at me with a very serious and stern expression on his face.
"Because I've only been serving you beer," I say desperately trying to recover, "And there's a lot of Pubs in Los Angeles, and I was just wondering what your thoughts were of them and if you'd been to any other bars in the area. I mainly drink wine. Do you drink wine?" I asked nervous and uncomfortable.
Face palm!
"No. Just beer." he replied very matter of fact.
Well. Alrighty then. I just smiled at him, and then walked away.
When I saw the military blonde was ready for another round, I kept it very professional. No personal chit chat, and forget asking him out for a drink or dinner Friday night. I completely blew it.
"Why do American television shows have so many commercials?" the military blonde asked.
Um. Because I don't know?
"They have the same shows in London but with one commercial break, we have commercial breaks every 7 minutes." he said.
"Most people just DVR." I said. "And fast forward the commercials."
The military blonde said nothing.
As my Wednesday night came to an end, I explained to the military blonde I was leaving, and my friend would continue to take care of him. He instead closed out his tab and left. 10 minutes later I left.
Down the street from the bar is a liquor store. I stopped in to pick up a bottle of wine and ran into the military blonde who was buying cigarettes. He looked over his shoulder at me. I smiled at him, batted my eyelashes, held up the bottle of Fleur De Lyeth wine and said, "Wine."
The military blonde shot me a look of disgust.
"I know you don't drink wine, but if you're still in town Friday night maybe we can meet for a beer. I like beer too." I said.
Jesus Christ, I need therapy.
The military blonde looked me over for a few seconds and said, "Maybe. I fly back to New Orleans Saturday morning." Then he bought his cigarettes and left the liquor store without saying goodbye or goodnight.
Awkward.
When I left the liquor store I saw the military blonde standing by his car smoking a cigarette. He looked at me. I looked at him. And then I went home.
THURSDAY NIGHT
I go to my friend's bar. An hour later in walks the military blonde. He sat down on a bar stool directly in front of me. We make eye contact. He orders a Heineken, takes a sip of his beer while maintaining unbroken eye contact with me, then he stands up, and moves to a table furthest away from the bar where he continues to drink and watch TV. On occasion I catch the military blonde just staring at me - but we kept all communication between us for the remainder of the night professional.
At the end of the night I inform the military blonde I wasn't going to come in tomorrow night. The weather report said Los Angeles was in for a rain storm. I then wished the military blonde a nice flight back to New Orleans. He looked confused.
"Guess I'll have to drink some place else tomorrow night then huh?" he said very sarcastically. "Too bad. This is closest to my room above [his friend's garage]." Then he paid his tab and left the bar.
When I left the bar last night, I walked past where the military blonde said he was staying. The garage was dark and locked up, but the lights on the loft above the garage were all on, and the front door was open.
Did he purposely leave the front door open?
I waited to see if the military blonde would walk into the doorway. I considered going up the service steps to the loft and knocking on the open door. I considered the military blonde could be some nutcase who just got out of prison. I considered many things, like why did he keep the door open to begin with? Was he ok?
I lingered in front of the garage to see if the military blonde would come to the front door, even if just to close it. But he didn't. I considered going up just to see if he was ok, but what if he really was some nutcase axe murderer?
And so,
I continued home.
FRIDAY (NOW)
It's pouring out. I'm not going anywhere tonight. I wonder if the military blonde will go to the bar and wonder where I am?
Fleur De Lyeth the drink we never had.
Safe travels back to New Orleans.
Cheers.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Fleur De Lyeth
Just uncorked this bottle.
Fleur De Lyeth. Red blend.
It's amazing!
There's a (so far) very odd story behind this bottle of wine.
I can't get into until maybe Sunday at the earliest.
The story is still making itself.
Get this bottle of wine. It's inexpensive and really good.
p.s. anyone see my paring knife?
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Ripper Street! Asian chick and heroine
A new season of Ripper Street has begun. I absolutely love this show. I had to Google how to spell "heroine". Oh great. I'm back on Google's radar. This new season opener is about an Asian girl who brings heroine to White Chapel. I didn't think it was possible but Richard Warlow's crew managed to make Ripper Street even more visually stunning. Incredible writing, characters, acting, dialogue...
But heroine? Everyone knows it's Asians and opium! See, and I didn't have to Google how to spell "opium" it's just in our DNA to know these things!
But heroine? Everyone knows it's Asians and opium! See, and I didn't have to Google how to spell "opium" it's just in our DNA to know these things!
Monday, February 24, 2014
Teeth marks
I've lived in Los Angeles on my own for a very long time. Earthquake survival kits are for amateurs.
And after all these years,
The only wisdom I can share,
If you want to live here and be happy,
Take everything with humor.
Once you lose your sense of humor, California lets you go,
And you're never welcome back.
"I love California. I practically grew up in Phoenix."
-- Dan Quayle
And after all these years,
The only wisdom I can share,
If you want to live here and be happy,
Take everything with humor.
Once you lose your sense of humor, California lets you go,
And you're never welcome back.
"I love California. I practically grew up in Phoenix."
-- Dan Quayle
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Knockemstiff. The end
Just finished reading Knockemstiff . You can't eat or drink anything while reading this book - ever.
Donald Ray Pollock is (in my opinion) a literary prodigy of Charles Bukowski. Like Bukowski, Pollock writes about the scummiest, dirtiest, lowlife people having sex, urinating, pooping, bleeding, killing people, committing suicide, molesting, incesting, raping, torturing, boozing, drugging, beating, robbing, sometimes all at once! etc., all in fine tuned detail. The way Pollock describes his characters and their actions, are the precise metaphors of all the ugliness of today's hypocritical self proclaimed entitled assholes.
"Praise me!! Love me!! Adore me!!... wait, wait ... But only the way I want you to!! And you suck as human beings if you don't do it just right!!"
Yep. Whatever you say there, Jackson.
Love this book.
Donald Ray Pollock is (in my opinion) a literary prodigy of Charles Bukowski. Like Bukowski, Pollock writes about the scummiest, dirtiest, lowlife people having sex, urinating, pooping, bleeding, killing people, committing suicide, molesting, incesting, raping, torturing, boozing, drugging, beating, robbing, sometimes all at once! etc., all in fine tuned detail. The way Pollock describes his characters and their actions, are the precise metaphors of all the ugliness of today's hypocritical self proclaimed entitled assholes.
"Praise me!! Love me!! Adore me!!... wait, wait ... But only the way I want you to!! And you suck as human beings if you don't do it just right!!"
Yep. Whatever you say there, Jackson.
Love this book.
My favorite date
Last night. He said he got this at Costco. It's good.
Then again could have just been the company.
Kirkland Cabernet Sauvignon
Why we live here. This afternoon.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
If found face down in my swimming pool...
Worry not. Certain well chosen friends have been instructed to drag my body out of the pool and do something messed up scandalous with my body - it's the only way the artwork I've made for you will be worth anything. I got you covered!
Sorry Canada
Los Angeles reclaims Carter and Doughty. Much like I'm my parents daughter, but tonight I'll either be claimed by a nice boy who just wants to cuddle for a few hours, or the Los Angeles Police Dept., or face down in my swimming pool.
GO KINGS!
Carter, Doughty, make Los Angeles proud and "bring the puck to the net" tomorrow when you play Sweden. I would watch the game but I plan on going out tonight in fishnets and 4 inch heels, otherwise known as my looking for love and respect attire, ending yet another Saturday night with the ever so recognizable 3am zombie walk of shame!
But I'll be thinking of you the whole time, I promise!
Safe travels back to Los Angeles, and see you at Staples Center on the 15th!
But I'll be thinking of you the whole time, I promise!
Safe travels back to Los Angeles, and see you at Staples Center on the 15th!
USA vs Finland
Yes, I'm awake. For Bronze. I'm awake for Bronze.
We'll see how many real Canadian hockey fans are up at 4am Sunday to watch team Canada play for Gold.
We'll see how many real Canadian hockey fans are up at 4am Sunday to watch team Canada play for Gold.
D'oh!
Paska!
At least team USA is playing as a team. Unlike yesterday.
Fell asleep. Woke up 0-5 Finland.
The announcers are blaming U.S.A.'s loss against Finland, on the game against Canada. Yes, it's Canada's fault. It's always Canada's fault.
Works for me!
t-shirt and fishhook earings
Friday night. Young and energetic. You and some friends decide to go club hopping in Hollywood. You look in your wardrobe and think; I know, a black t-shirt with a white decal child animated choo choo train on the front, a pair of baggy jeans, tennis shoes, and silver bass fish hook earings!
Then,
While wearing this outfit,
You looked at yourself in the mirror and thought, "Girl, you look good!"
Then,
While wearing this outfit,
You looked at yourself in the mirror and thought, "Girl, you look good!"
Friday, February 21, 2014
Sweden vs Canada for gold
I'll watch this game if I'm still awake Sunday at 4am. I'm so not setting my alarm for this one.
Gold medal
Truthfully I really wanted Russia to get the gold medal in mens hockey, at home turf. Not only because of, but after watching the Alexander Ovechkin documentary, and what he and his family went through growing up in Russia, to him later play in the NHL, it's an amazing story.
7am tomorrow
Setting my alarm clock now. USA vs. Finland.
There 'till the end, bitter if so be it!
Watching the game to support Quick, my favorite L.A. King since Luc Robitaille.
There 'till the end, bitter if so be it!
Watching the game to support Quick, my favorite L.A. King since Luc Robitaille.
USA vs Canada
They're your teammates back in L.A. but today Quick, they're just Canada!
Le D'oh!
End of the 2nd quarter @halftime 0-1 Canada.
"I expect this to be a high scoring game." Good thing he didn't wager that comment.
I'm going to rename this blog "Parise & Quick vs Canada".
[Edit] "Quick vs. Canada" !!! I'm being bitter like a rejected man.
"Jonathan Quick went to Sochi, representing USA battled Canada and allowed only one goal. The only goal in the game." There's your headline, Yahoo.
Good Job, Canada. Jonathan Quick is a hard man to beat! And Canada knows it too; the open display of respect to and from both Quick and team Canada was awesome to see.
I'm going to rename this blog "Parise & Quick vs Canada".
[Edit] "Quick vs. Canada" !!! I'm being bitter like a rejected man.
"Jonathan Quick went to Sochi, representing USA battled Canada and allowed only one goal. The only goal in the game." There's your headline, Yahoo.
Good Job, Canada. Jonathan Quick is a hard man to beat! And Canada knows it too; the open display of respect to and from both Quick and team Canada was awesome to see.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Two Beverly Blvd. toddler moms
Today I went for a little walk to the grocery store on Beverly Blvd. Coming down the sidewalk in the opposite direction were two toddler moms, both pushing strollers, one toddler mom walking directly behind the other.
Both moms looked amazing; perfect hair, perfect make up, perfect nails, both moms were extremely fit, wearing matching skin tight high fashion designer work-out clothes, designer shoes, and both moms were pushing the Bentley of luxury baby strollers. I don't know the ages of "toddlers" but both babies looked no older than perhaps 5 months old...
And so, maybe because I've been watching Olympic hockey, I just assumed these two moms were friends. They were both perfectly quaffed alike. Their kids were about the same age. They were dressed alike, pushing the same strollers...
The mom in front had her head down texting as she was pushing her stroller, and the mom behind her was window shopping, straining her neck to look at the window exhibits as she was pushing her stroller. When the mom texting came to a dead stop, the mom window shopping behind her didn't notice until the very last second, and quickly veered her baby stroller to the side, so not to collide her baby and stroller into the mom ahead of her...
But the front wheel of her baby stroller clipped the back heel of the mom that was texting, which then sparked the most awkward moment, and the realization that these two moms are definitely not friends!
Mom texting yelled, "Excuse me, I was here first!"
Mom window shopping replied, "You suddenly stopped!"
Mom texting yelled, "Because it's a sidewalk!"
Aside from the fact what they were saying to each other didn't make sense, I was still stuck on the "Excuse me, I was here first!" part. Just where exactly was she first? First on the sidewalk? First in the chain of two moms pushing strollers on the sidewalk? First in the city of Beverly Hills? First, where, exactly?
It was awkward.
Luckily after a few more huffs and puffs, it blew over on its own.
But,
In my mind I could already hear myself saying, "Well officer, see what happened was..."
Both moms looked amazing; perfect hair, perfect make up, perfect nails, both moms were extremely fit, wearing matching skin tight high fashion designer work-out clothes, designer shoes, and both moms were pushing the Bentley of luxury baby strollers. I don't know the ages of "toddlers" but both babies looked no older than perhaps 5 months old...
And so, maybe because I've been watching Olympic hockey, I just assumed these two moms were friends. They were both perfectly quaffed alike. Their kids were about the same age. They were dressed alike, pushing the same strollers...
The mom in front had her head down texting as she was pushing her stroller, and the mom behind her was window shopping, straining her neck to look at the window exhibits as she was pushing her stroller. When the mom texting came to a dead stop, the mom window shopping behind her didn't notice until the very last second, and quickly veered her baby stroller to the side, so not to collide her baby and stroller into the mom ahead of her...
But the front wheel of her baby stroller clipped the back heel of the mom that was texting, which then sparked the most awkward moment, and the realization that these two moms are definitely not friends!
Mom texting yelled, "Excuse me, I was here first!"
Mom window shopping replied, "You suddenly stopped!"
Mom texting yelled, "Because it's a sidewalk!"
Aside from the fact what they were saying to each other didn't make sense, I was still stuck on the "Excuse me, I was here first!" part. Just where exactly was she first? First on the sidewalk? First in the chain of two moms pushing strollers on the sidewalk? First in the city of Beverly Hills? First, where, exactly?
It was awkward.
Luckily after a few more huffs and puffs, it blew over on its own.
But,
In my mind I could already hear myself saying, "Well officer, see what happened was..."
Dear Canada
Tomorrow, 9am, you, me, and the United States hockey team, you're going down Canada!
P.S. Thank you for all the amazing camp grounds, peaceful wildlife, clean air, beautiful hiking trails, gorgeous scenic resorts, velvet blue waters, awesome fireworks, wonderful hospitality, and being very nice neighbors all throughout my childhood...
But,
Tomorrow,
You're going down Canada!
P.S. Thank you for all the amazing camp grounds, peaceful wildlife, clean air, beautiful hiking trails, gorgeous scenic resorts, velvet blue waters, awesome fireworks, wonderful hospitality, and being very nice neighbors all throughout my childhood...
But,
Tomorrow,
You're going down Canada!
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
HOCKEY SPOILERS
Haha! No one I know cares about hockey, let alone Olympic Hockey! So with that in mind...
I'm going to start rooting for Czech Republic if the US scores again before the Czechs do. Is it derogatory calling Czech Republic "Czechs"? I don't mean it to be.
Just once I'd like to watch a hockey game and not hear a Bon Jovi song!
If USA begins to slaughter Czech Republic I'm done watching this game.
It's too beautiful out to stay indoors anyway!
I'm going to start rooting for Czech Republic if the US scores again before the Czechs do. Is it derogatory calling Czech Republic "Czechs"? I don't mean it to be.
Just once I'd like to watch a hockey game and not hear a Bon Jovi song!
If USA begins to slaughter Czech Republic I'm done watching this game.
Ok I'm done.
It's too beautiful out to stay indoors anyway!
Gooooaaaaaal!!
Oh damn. Czech just scored.
But then,
Good game! Good game!
But then,
Good game! Good game!
"USA! USA! US... Goddamnit Bill, put your arm down, they can't see me on the jumbo-tron!"
D'oh!
I'm not anti-Canada. As a kid Canada provided the US with much needed illegal fireworks!
Luckily the US game is live. I've been bugging T. Sheffield for spoilers.
Olympic hockey today
No Russia, say it isn't so! It's ok Ovechkin, we still love you in the Caps! Crap, now I have to root for Canada, begrudgingly, in the event U.S. loses to Czeck Republic. I hope they didn't lose. Please God don't make me root for Canada. Canada hasn't been cool since The Great One left hockey.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Russia!
After Russia's 3rd goal I started rooting for Norway to get just one.
But then...
Russian men have longevity, personally speaking. That, and some of the best NHL players to ever live are on the Russian team.
C'mon refs
HOOK! Russia should have had a free penalty shot! Glad to see the refs are just as blind in the Olympics as they are in the NHL!
Russia vs Norway
Is it wrong to root for the Olympic hockey team based on guys I've dated, and the NHL team some of the players play on?
If it's not wrong than...
GO RUSSIA!!
Sunday, February 16, 2014
First beach day of 2014
What a beautiful day out today!
Even the young Asian businessmen in suits took off their shoes and socks, rolled up their pants and went in the water. Hi-five!
It's Sunday. FEBRUARY! High rent but so worth it!
Friday, February 14, 2014
Love, Ginger Pussy
"So guys, today is Valentine's Day."
"You and I know this day is just about her."
"And if you live with a lady like I do, you gotta play the game to keep getting those treats and late night belly rubs."
"Sometimes all she wants is your undivided attention. No cell phone. No basketball game. No computer."
"When my lady starts talking I have no idea what she's saying, I'm not paying attention, but when I see her lips moving I just look at her like this and she thinks I'm the greatest tomcat alive!"
"But in reality I can't wait for that woman to leave the room so I can go back to sleep!
"I'm kidding! I'm kidding! What were you talking about sweetie? Shoes? Clothes? Hair? Was it shoes? You were talking about shoes, right? Have you lost weight? You're so pretty!"
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!
Love,
Ginger Pussy
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Ginger Pussy sink of shame!
You thought I was kidding when I said the cat (aka Ginger Pussy) passed out in the sink...
C'mon kitty, I wash my dishes in there! Everyone knows the drunk tank is the bathtub!
"What?"
C'mon kitty, I wash my dishes in there! Everyone knows the drunk tank is the bathtub!
Ginger Pussy vs Thai food
The cat
The Thai Food. Tofu Lard Nar. A bottle of Sapporo.
The cat vs. tofu Lard Nar!
Long story short I got the cat drunk, he passed out in the kitchen sink, and I had left over Thai food for breakfast!
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
February 10, 2014
Good morning Starshine!
The following images and notions were from last night, before I went to bed.
One of the conversations T. Sheffield and I had when we met was English food, mainly "beans on toast". Heinz beans, to be specific. The beans must be Heinz! I've had beans on toast here in CA with European friends.
To which I then tried explaining to my 3 new English friends
"chipped beef on toast".
It's the same concept. Every military kid (over the age of 30) in America knows "chipped beef on toast". And I say over the age of 30 because MREs are more advanced now; pastas, meats, even vegetarian options, but I grew up on occasional lunches of "chipped beef on toast". A lot of old school diners still serve it. Little kids don't realize it's a military food. It looks disgusting, it's an acquired taste, a taste I still crave few times a year, like last night. Only now I eat it without the bread.
Stouffer's makes a modern chipped beef which I picked up at Gelson's for $683.24! Ok maybe not $683.24, it was on sale, though I can't imagine why "creamed chipped beef" isn't just flying off the shelves!
Now made with zero trans fat! Hooray!
(Extreme close-up selfie!)
I'll spare you the picture of what "chipped beef on toast" looks like in a bowl without the toast.
So last night,
People who see me pretty regularly, but didn't see me over the weekend asked, "What did you do to your face? It looks thinner or something!"
Well, this is what I did to my face...
(Hand selfie!)
It's called Loreal Eye Defense. And they also have a Loreal Blur which I hear is Photoshop in a bottle, but I'm starting with Loreal Eye Defense, before getting addicted to yet more products that just make me more neurotic.
I only started using Loreal Eye Defense Sunday morning. Today will be day 3. In my mind I think it works. Botox is what, $16 a unit, this bottle is $19 and looks like it will last me at least 2 or 3 weeks. We'll see.
Not that I get Botox. *cough cough*
In conclusion,
Last night,
At work,
I overheard a couple I had just poured a few cocktails to talking about his upcoming surgery. They were a young couple. Didn't get any details about his surgery but they were nonetheless upbeat, in love, happy, accepting, and living life. It was beautiful. They were beautiful. When the couple was ready to cash out I told them I bought their last round of drinks and wished them a good night. I didn't buy their last round because he was having surgery, I did it because they were just a sweet and lovely couple spite their immediate circumstance. They were so grateful, humble even, over just drinks, they were the last thought on my mind before I finally drifted off to sleep. I really hope everything works out for them. And I hope I see them again to celebrate... first round's on me!
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Cross one off the bucket list!
Finally!
I'm someone's "American". I'm so happy I could cry!
Ever watch Ripper Street? I'm a fan of Mathew Macfadyen. I love his work and he has the sexiest voice I've ever heard.
Anyway,
Ripper Street takes place in 1889 post Jack the Ripper in WhiteChapel, London. In the show Detective Reid (played by Macfadyen) has an American Surgeon, Homer Jackson (played by Adam Rothenberg). Reid refers to Jackson as "my American" and ever since then I wanted to be someone's "American" and now I am. I'm so happy I could cry. T. Sheffield called me his "sexy little American".
Seeing "my Brit" friend again we're rendezvousing in New York so he only has to cross the ocean.
This is going to be the weirdest country song ever, and my bar said I could perform my country song there. Now how does one go about finding musicians for this kind of silly little project?
I'm someone's "American". I'm so happy I could cry!
Ever watch Ripper Street? I'm a fan of Mathew Macfadyen. I love his work and he has the sexiest voice I've ever heard.
Anyway,
Ripper Street takes place in 1889 post Jack the Ripper in WhiteChapel, London. In the show Detective Reid (played by Macfadyen) has an American Surgeon, Homer Jackson (played by Adam Rothenberg). Reid refers to Jackson as "my American" and ever since then I wanted to be someone's "American" and now I am. I'm so happy I could cry. T. Sheffield called me his "sexy little American".
Seeing "my Brit" friend again we're rendezvousing in New York so he only has to cross the ocean.
This is going to be the weirdest country song ever, and my bar said I could perform my country song there. Now how does one go about finding musicians for this kind of silly little project?
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Sochi
Beautiful! Well done! You can hate Vladimir Putin's politics and Russia's overzealous (America has them too!) but that opening show was brilliant.
USA! USA! USA! US... wow New Zealand has some serious hotties!
USA! USA! USA! US... wow New Zealand has some serious hotties!
Friday, February 7, 2014
Dear NHL
Your teams need to up their game. And the next time you put on such a boring hockey game, I want to see a bunch of big-head super cute fluffy mascots skate onto the ice with wiffle-bats and knock all the hockey players over!
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Chapter Two
Finished another chapter of Knockemstiff. This book reminds me a little of This Boys Life. And just like Blackburn, Knockemstiff also begins with a young boy and his hostile relationship with an abusive father.
In both Blackburn and Knockemstiff both boy-characters mention not being able to put a live worm on a fishing hook, resulting in their fathers belittling the boys in public. I wonder how many other boys experienced this? It's not a coincidence both male authors of the last two books I read, mention it. Although scientific research has indicated the fibers of what makes an individual is more genetic than condition, whereas others believe it's condition.
I love these types of arguments between science, religion and philosophy. So does my dad. I used to just blame everything on him, now I have more options!
In both Blackburn and Knockemstiff both boy-characters mention not being able to put a live worm on a fishing hook, resulting in their fathers belittling the boys in public. I wonder how many other boys experienced this? It's not a coincidence both male authors of the last two books I read, mention it. Although scientific research has indicated the fibers of what makes an individual is more genetic than condition, whereas others believe it's condition.
I love these types of arguments between science, religion and philosophy. So does my dad. I used to just blame everything on him, now I have more options!
English Theater
T. Sheffield sent me pictures of where he works.
Testing the lights. Love this photo!
I've been watching movies about theater in the renaissance era for years.
Art and Theater 1300s-1600s
Art and Theater 1300s-1600s
Studied renaissance painters and sculptors
Love Shakespeare
When asked if I watched the Superbowl, I said yes but only for the commercials. Their response, "What are you into, arts and crafts?" Hey! Those elbow noodle macramé turkeys aren't going to make themselves!
I just need an English to English translator. Urban Dictionary and Collins Dictionary can only help me so much. When T. Sheffield says things like, "Then me and the boys are off for beers and a bit of scoff" I don't know if he's going to drink beers and then eat something, punch someone, or see a comedy show.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Drive-in theaters
I'm reading more fiction now. I get enough reality 14 hours a day I don't need any more. Aside from Fargo (which is amazing!) my Midwest, being Minnesota, is usually portrayed in a very general and bland metaphoric scope of mutated Canadian accents and Lutheran Churches. All writers write about where they're from, or use it as a reference point, but I like reading how other people view the Midwest who are actually from the Midwest. Small town characters tend to be more active, physical, heavily exaggerated, less about what they think and feel, more about what they have done and will go on doing.
I picked up Knockemstiff because the author is from the Midwest, he mentions little things like drive-in theaters, and while I'm only one chapter into the book, and his characters are perhaps a bit overplayed even for the time period, the little Midwest mentions remind me of home.
My (dearly beloved, and sadly missed) grandma used to live next to an abandoned drive-in theater. When I visit my grandma we went on long, long walks and just talked, and in doing so we always cut through the abandoned drive-in lot. Not the usual drive-in memory most people have I imagine, but it's a great memory (to me) all the same.
It's the little connections. I take them any way I can.
Knockemstiff
...is the new book I'm reading.
Pollock is from the Midwest, writing about the Midwest, Knockemstiff, Ohio.
I'm from the Midwest (or at least that's what we call it) and I cannot relate to any of the characters in chapter one. If I had a friend who's mom deep throated hot dogs at the drive-in, in front of her kids (?!) to impress her husband, fortunately they kept that little family jewel in the family!
If I hear this book turns movie, I'm going to write Pollock and suggest who should play the mom-character. I'm thinking...
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Boxers
Today I will be surrounded by retired Boxers and MMA fighters. I'm going to stand in the center of everyone and yell, "I just want to cuddle!" and see what happens. Wish me luck.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Thank You Mr. Martin!
For explaining it so well! I have no idea what's going on in this ball game. Thankfully Steve Martin is giving play-by-play Tweets!
Just Sunday
In honor of Superbowl Sunday, I'm posting this picture T. Sheffield sent me of (what I'm guessing is) a soccer, football, game, match, thingy.
He only said,
"Shall be off to the footy so will take some pics of the ground for you. Will have to take you to a game. :-)"
It was a 1-0 win but according to T. Sheffield it was still a "crap game" though I have no idea why. I'd love to see a game of "footy". Do they sell alcohol there?
Looking at this picture, I'm rooting for the dancing bears on the far left side!
He only said,
"Shall be off to the footy so will take some pics of the ground for you. Will have to take you to a game. :-)"
It was a 1-0 win but according to T. Sheffield it was still a "crap game" though I have no idea why. I'd love to see a game of "footy". Do they sell alcohol there?
Looking at this picture, I'm rooting for the dancing bears on the far left side!
Saturday, February 1, 2014
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