I dropped my Blackberry at the bar on Saturday and the trackball fell out. I was going to call T-Mobile today to get a replacement sent to my house (I've been paying for insurance on this phone for like two years now so I'm pretty sure it would be free...or something), but yesterday someone told me about this phone repair shop that replaces trackballs! Of course, the fee for replacing the trackball is greater than the fee to get the whole phone replaced, but there's a lot of information on my phone that I don't want to lose: appointments, text messages, notes to self (lately I've been working on a series of notes called "Restaurants" wherein I compare the various restaurants I want to try and the ones I HAVE tried), etcetera. And that information, plus the opportunity cost of having to put in all that information again, is worth about the $50 it will cost me to repair the phone rather than having it replaced outright. Does any of that make sense? Okay.
RELATED: At that same event on Saturday, a random dude cornered me in the men's bathroom line (I can't remember why I was there) and told me that the guys I was with couldn't possibly appreciate how awesome I am - which, of course, begs the question: How could he appreciate how awesome I am? At this point, all he was actually appreciating was the shape of my ass, which...yes, as a matter of fact, I can turn any compliment around and stab you in the face with it, why?
ANYWAY, instead of going with the usual "I don't give out my phone number because YOU MEN CAN'T BE TRUSTED with that information" or the slightly less common "I have a boyfriend" (I prefer to let guys think it's not my unavailability, but rather my being completely repulsed by them, that's keeping us apart), I told him: "Look me up on my website instead! WWW.NEUTICLES.COM" And yes, I had to spell it out for him. God I'm so excited about that, I wish I could be there when he checks to find out all about Neuticles. NEW POLICY: ALWAYS GIVE THEM THE NEUTICLES.
In other news, February is over, and thus, so is my commitment to NaBloPoMo. I think I'll take March off (though I will still post occasionally this month, don't worry), since this is the month of Spring Break and...yeah. I don't really intend on being around a computer that much (we'll see how that plays out...honestly I think it could go either way).
Hey! It's MARCH. 12 more days until Spring Break!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Showing posts with label NaBloPoMo 2010. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NaBloPoMo 2010. Show all posts
Monday, March 1, 2010
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Famous Last Words
So today was my cousin's bridal shower...I seriously resisted going because it was an hour's drive away, but mostly because one thing that ALWAYS happens at bridal showers is someone gets me in a corner and goes, "so when are you getting married?" And I have to stare back at them with that baleful Avowed-Single-Girl-Eye and go, "umm...?" UNCOMFORTABLE. Ugh...I'm too young for this shit.
But I went. And of course the whole marriage bit came up (because hens only have so much to cluck about, apparently), and it was all I could do to choke back the bitchiest answer I could possibly have come up with (that answer being: "I'd rather die alone than marry your son and become your relative"). Good thing the next person in line after me is my younger cousin, and he's got a long way to go before anyone sees him as "marriage material", so there's that.
Now I just have to survive her wedding.
But I went. And of course the whole marriage bit came up (because hens only have so much to cluck about, apparently), and it was all I could do to choke back the bitchiest answer I could possibly have come up with (that answer being: "I'd rather die alone than marry your son and become your relative"). Good thing the next person in line after me is my younger cousin, and he's got a long way to go before anyone sees him as "marriage material", so there's that.
Now I just have to survive her wedding.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
YAY WORLD
It is not very often that my optimism charge gets a boost these days, especially since there have been earthquakes all around the world AND in Oklahoma all week and
1. OKLAHOMA,
2. ALL WEEK, and
3. Why was I not notified?
However, I need to thank someone for doing me just that favor: Johnny Weir gave me a hug with words, by recently saying the following (in response to commentators saying he wasn't enough of a man, apparently!):
Man, it really seems like it's always the gays doing something great for the world and straight people FUCKING IT UP AGAIN. I mean, I know that's unfair, but when was the last time some prominent gay guy called someone a "retard" or took away someone else's civil rights? Maybe it's because they see all the other downtrodden folks as members of their extended Family of Misery, but if that were it, women would be able to shut the fuck up occasionally too. But no: Ask Ann Coulter, or Sarah Palin, or Dina Lohan, or all the other dumb bitches in the universe who are consistently failing to Just Leave it Alone. LEAVE IT ALONE. LEAVE EVERYONE ALONE. This should not be a difficulty, and yet...it remains so.
Also: Thanks, Fug Girls, for showing me that quote.
1. OKLAHOMA,
2. ALL WEEK, and
3. Why was I not notified?
However, I need to thank someone for doing me just that favor: Johnny Weir gave me a hug with words, by recently saying the following (in response to commentators saying he wasn't enough of a man, apparently!):
"There's a whole generation of people that aren't defined by their sex or their race or by who they like to sleep with. I think as a person you know what your values are and what you believe in, and I think that's the most important thing."
- Johnny Weir
Man, it really seems like it's always the gays doing something great for the world and straight people FUCKING IT UP AGAIN. I mean, I know that's unfair, but when was the last time some prominent gay guy called someone a "retard" or took away someone else's civil rights? Maybe it's because they see all the other downtrodden folks as members of their extended Family of Misery, but if that were it, women would be able to shut the fuck up occasionally too. But no: Ask Ann Coulter, or Sarah Palin, or Dina Lohan, or all the other dumb bitches in the universe who are consistently failing to Just Leave it Alone. LEAVE IT ALONE. LEAVE EVERYONE ALONE. This should not be a difficulty, and yet...it remains so.
Also: Thanks, Fug Girls, for showing me that quote.
Failure
So my February NaBloPoMo is dragging along...today I wanted to write about how I really like this hat, but I can't bring myself to spend $400 on it, but then SOMEONE (no names) heard about it and said NO. This person told me that since I'm a day behind, my retro-dated entry has to be REALLY GOOD. WELL, FINE. LET ME THINK ABOUT IT.
In the meantime, here's a picture of the ridiculously expensive hat:
waaaaant
Oh, here's something (this part took me 45 minutes to come up with, for real): I just read this on a friend's-friend's-Livejournal, because I stalk everyone within, like, 4 degrees of me:
You guys! This is exactly what I've been saying. Well, except for the last part about "shock". The part about 'giving members of the opposite sex a fair chance and you'll see that they have feelings'? That is vintage Priya Advice! But "fair" very rarely enters into the discussion with me...mostly I just say that we're all the same and the stuff that's different between guys and girls is not based on gender but on the fact that we're all individuals; the output different because the input is different, not the mechanisms which produce the output.
Of course, this person's way is significantly less complicated, but "simple" is also pretty rare with me, despite the relative simpleness of the concept I'm trying to convey. RRRRrrrrgh.
Another thing which I felt touched a chord with me from this person's journal was the following:
Except...instead of "gay", put in, oh, I don't know, something else (I'm pretty self-aware but not that self-aware, apparently), and there you have it.
In the meantime, here's a picture of the ridiculously expensive hat:
waaaaant
Oh, here's something (this part took me 45 minutes to come up with, for real): I just read this on a friend's-friend's-Livejournal, because I stalk everyone within, like, 4 degrees of me:
The real message of ["She's the Man"] seems to be "Give a member of the opposite sex a fair chance and you'll see they have feelings and this will amaze you and you'll fall in love based upon the mere shock of it."
You guys! This is exactly what I've been saying. Well, except for the last part about "shock". The part about 'giving members of the opposite sex a fair chance and you'll see that they have feelings'? That is vintage Priya Advice! But "fair" very rarely enters into the discussion with me...mostly I just say that we're all the same and the stuff that's different between guys and girls is not based on gender but on the fact that we're all individuals; the output different because the input is different, not the mechanisms which produce the output.
Of course, this person's way is significantly less complicated, but "simple" is also pretty rare with me, despite the relative simpleness of the concept I'm trying to convey. RRRRrrrrgh.
Another thing which I felt touched a chord with me from this person's journal was the following:
...while there's nothing wrong with being gay, yadda yadda, I don't really need to misrepresent myself anymore than I do naturally with the things I foolishly say or forget to.
Except...instead of "gay", put in, oh, I don't know, something else (I'm pretty self-aware but not that self-aware, apparently), and there you have it.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Am Appy is Grossing Me Out
Does anyone else look at this picture and think: "these young ladies were definitely sold into sex slavery by their impoverished, uneducated parents who had no other option (possibly ALSO under extreme duress applied by organized crime lords)"?
I am pretty sure Dov was standing behind the camera, saying, "hold her, Alejandra. Help her, Melissa. NOW SMILE LITTLE GIRLS OR YOU KNOW WHAT YOU GET" and the girl on the left managed to force a smirk (because she is still able to remember the Shire) but the one of the right was like "I CAN'T SMILE ANYMORE OH MY GOD NOW HE'S GOING TO RAPE ME UNTIL I CALL HIM MR. DADDY" and then right after this picture was taken she broke into silent, horrified sobs.
I'm not kidding. I think this picture is gross. And actually what's worse than this girl's expression is the fact that some 15 year old girl is reading this and thinking that I need to lighten up.
I am pretty sure Dov was standing behind the camera, saying, "hold her, Alejandra. Help her, Melissa. NOW SMILE LITTLE GIRLS OR YOU KNOW WHAT YOU GET" and the girl on the left managed to force a smirk (because she is still able to remember the Shire) but the one of the right was like "I CAN'T SMILE ANYMORE OH MY GOD NOW HE'S GOING TO RAPE ME UNTIL I CALL HIM MR. DADDY" and then right after this picture was taken she broke into silent, horrified sobs.
I'm not kidding. I think this picture is gross. And actually what's worse than this girl's expression is the fact that some 15 year old girl is reading this and thinking that I need to lighten up.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Not Gonna Happen (Subtitle: You Crazy Fashion Brits!)
This is the salient point of an email I just got from Brown's:
First of all, the reason behind sending men's fashion ideas to my inbox is beyond me, but hey. I am not in Brown's marketing department. Nor am I in their buying department, so I obviously don't know what I'm talking about. But something tells me things are going horribly awry over there if they think I'm going to buy
1. a headband
2. made out of leather
3. for 325 fucking dollars
4. FOR A MAN
Which is to say nothing, of course, of the BRAIDED LEATHER LARIAT or the VISCOSE HOODED CARDIGAN (for almost nine hundred dollars). I can hardly get the guys I know to consider REGULAR cardigans, much less romantic flowy ones with hoods. Jesus God.
First of all, the reason behind sending men's fashion ideas to my inbox is beyond me, but hey. I am not in Brown's marketing department. Nor am I in their buying department, so I obviously don't know what I'm talking about. But something tells me things are going horribly awry over there if they think I'm going to buy
1. a headband
2. made out of leather
3. for 325 fucking dollars
4. FOR A MAN
Which is to say nothing, of course, of the BRAIDED LEATHER LARIAT or the VISCOSE HOODED CARDIGAN (for almost nine hundred dollars). I can hardly get the guys I know to consider REGULAR cardigans, much less romantic flowy ones with hoods. Jesus God.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
An Oldie But A Goodie
David reminded me of this a couple days ago. This video always tickles me...Always.
INTERNET? I'D SAY...INTER...NET!
(PS. Why yes, that IS a "dinosaurs" tag. Don't judge me)
INTERNET? I'D SAY...INTER...NET!
(PS. Why yes, that IS a "dinosaurs" tag. Don't judge me)
Monday, February 22, 2010
"hellscape of the mind"
I know I've been talking about Videogum a lot lately, but FUCK IT. I can't be bothered to have original thoughts anymore.
During his review of Armageddon (which is part of a series where he searches for the Worst Movie of All Time), Gabe - Videogum's intrepid editor - wrote the following paragraph:
You know, I feel like the current mental state in this country is pretty similar to the way it was in the 80s when the interest rate was at 15% and everyone was convinced we were all going to die in a Nuclear Holocaust, and it was only a matter of time until our money was better for burning than spending AND/OR we all turned to ash or died slow, painful, humiliating deaths by radiation poisoning. Every time I'm reminded of it, I'm struck by how that sounds like a pretty epic hellscape of the mind, which is without even mentioning the fact that everyone was simultaneously under this immense pressure to do cocaine and wear Polo shirts.
I learned recently that before government regulation, the US economy went Boom-Bust every other year or so. Can you imagine that? Of course, that was in the 19th century so the people also had a host of other problems, such as rancid meat and BEING EATEN ALIVE BY RATS, etcetera. But anyway, my point in bringing this up is, now that we've reached a kind of regulatory process that works (most of the time) fiscally, we now need a regulatory process that keeps us from having a collective existential crisis every 20 years. I just think it would be better that way. I nominate Soma, of course.
There's a clothing boutique in the Rice Village called "Soma". I think it's actually one of two or three Somas in the city...I wonder if they realize how fucked up that is. I mean, either the founder of the store:
1. read "Brave New World"
2. is extremely clever, and
3. is making a joke that I don't get, or:
1. they read the book, and
2. didn't understand it, and so are
3. just making a pointless reference to Huxley. OR
4. just using the word "soma" for some other, completely unrelated, reason.
Given my own personal (constant, ever-raging) existential crisis, I suppose it should be obvious that I assume it's the latter. When the Zombie Bioterrorism Total Apocalypse is upon us, I guess I can only hope it's quick.
During his review of Armageddon (which is part of a series where he searches for the Worst Movie of All Time), Gabe - Videogum's intrepid editor - wrote the following paragraph:
If anything, I wish we could go back to that blessed time when the things that scared us were asteroids and volcano eruptions. Now it's all Total Apocalypse and Zombie Bioterrorism and even though those movies are just as cliche-filled and computer-generated, I find them legitimately terrifying and believable. We live in a world of chaos and potential annihilation. And if it does happen, it will be even worse than a thousand Michael Bay movies. But it will probably be much quicker.
You know, I feel like the current mental state in this country is pretty similar to the way it was in the 80s when the interest rate was at 15% and everyone was convinced we were all going to die in a Nuclear Holocaust, and it was only a matter of time until our money was better for burning than spending AND/OR we all turned to ash or died slow, painful, humiliating deaths by radiation poisoning. Every time I'm reminded of it, I'm struck by how that sounds like a pretty epic hellscape of the mind, which is without even mentioning the fact that everyone was simultaneously under this immense pressure to do cocaine and wear Polo shirts.
I learned recently that before government regulation, the US economy went Boom-Bust every other year or so. Can you imagine that? Of course, that was in the 19th century so the people also had a host of other problems, such as rancid meat and BEING EATEN ALIVE BY RATS, etcetera. But anyway, my point in bringing this up is, now that we've reached a kind of regulatory process that works (most of the time) fiscally, we now need a regulatory process that keeps us from having a collective existential crisis every 20 years. I just think it would be better that way. I nominate Soma, of course.
There's a clothing boutique in the Rice Village called "Soma". I think it's actually one of two or three Somas in the city...I wonder if they realize how fucked up that is. I mean, either the founder of the store:
1. read "Brave New World"
2. is extremely clever, and
3. is making a joke that I don't get, or:
1. they read the book, and
2. didn't understand it, and so are
3. just making a pointless reference to Huxley. OR
4. just using the word "soma" for some other, completely unrelated, reason.
Given my own personal (constant, ever-raging) existential crisis, I suppose it should be obvious that I assume it's the latter. When the Zombie Bioterrorism Total Apocalypse is upon us, I guess I can only hope it's quick.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Your Cat is Tripping BALLLLLZZZZZ
Gabe at @videogum (on the Twitter, see) likes to remind us of hilarious old posts sometimes, and recently he reminded us of this one about a Friskies commercial. I know some of you don't read Videogum (WHY, I don't know, since you'd love it) and so I am here to spread the wealth, so that you can deposit it into your LOL(k).
Check out the original post here.
Man: Honey, what happened to the cat?
Woman: Oh, she is gone.
Man: What do you mean, she's gone?
Woman: Well, I gave her that Friskies you bought on Sunday, and she just started tripping balls super hard. She ran around the room in circles for awhile, foam building up in the corners of her mouth, her eyes open so wide I thought they'd fall out of their sockets. And there was just this deep, prehistoric noise emanating from her. Then she laid on her back and started scratching at the air frantically, just thrashing. Meanwhile, she was opening and closing her jaws crazy fast and somehow I swear her teeth got sharper. It was actually pretty terrifying. And then she died.
Man: Oh my God.
Woman: Yeah, I was going to wait for you, but I didn't know what time you were getting home, so I just said a few words in her honor and then flushed her down the toilet.
Man: This is really unexpected.
Woman: Yeah. That Friskies you bought on Sunday is crazy.
Man: No kidding.
Check out the original post here.
Friday, February 19, 2010
PUBLIC SHAMING TIME!
Devon went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras last weekend and got a temporary tattoo (by BUD LITE!) on his ass. I just got a copy of that image in my email with the heading: "OH MY GOOOAAAWWWWWDDDDUH" which, if you had seen the picture, you would understand completely. Are you ready to see it?
Get To Know Your Priya
If you ever see me staring blankly into space and it seems like I'm asleep with my eyes open (and trust me, if you know me for any length of time, you will see me doing this), it's not that I'm ACTUALLY not thinking. It's that this song is playing in my head, over and over again.
Sky Mall Kitties, they're...the kitties...of...THE AIR!
Sky Mall Kitties, they're...the kitties...of...THE AIR!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
I love LARPers.
You know what? Fine. Far be it from me to deny them an activity that makes them feel like they are contributing to something worthwhile...as completely silly as that "something" no doubt is, and as absolutely laughable as the "worthwhile" adjective is, too.
"Die, Sky bitch!"
Thoughts:
1. I am not a huge AVATAR fan but even I know that there is more to being Na'vi than shoving plastic flowers in the ground and shooting arrows at a depressing naked mannequin that you stole out of a dumpster behind Macy's.
2. The leader guy looks like Tobias Funke when he decided he wanted to be a part of Blue Man Group.
3. At least they're not kidnapping me and forcing me to re-enact their high school's Prom in their mom's basement (anymore).
And...now I'm not even sure if this is for real. The production value on this is way too high. But then they have a GMAIL ADDRESS so you know it's legitimate.
"Die, Sky bitch!"
Thoughts:
1. I am not a huge AVATAR fan but even I know that there is more to being Na'vi than shoving plastic flowers in the ground and shooting arrows at a depressing naked mannequin that you stole out of a dumpster behind Macy's.
2. The leader guy looks like Tobias Funke when he decided he wanted to be a part of Blue Man Group.
3. At least they're not kidnapping me and forcing me to re-enact their high school's Prom in their mom's basement (anymore).
And...now I'm not even sure if this is for real. The production value on this is way too high. But then they have a GMAIL ADDRESS so you know it's legitimate.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Priya's Top Ten Rules For Making a Mix CD
1. Start off with a bang.
2. Now turn it to 11.
3. Back down a step.
4. Get serious.
5. Get sentimental.
6. But I always try to retain a sense of humor about just how sentimental I'm being. Throw in KC and Jojo if all else fails.
7. Make Track 7 special. This is always, without fail, my thesis statement.
8. Expose them to something I think they'd never have heard without me.
9. If the mix is primarily fast songs at this point, slow it down. If it's slow, speed it up.
10. Make a strong closing statement. If I had two thesis songs and couldn't decide, this is the place for the one that isn't Track 7. Or I might throw on a slow one and let the lyrics stand for themselves.
Et voila.
Bonus Step:
11: Enjoy the glow of gratitude and the satisfaction of a job well done.
2. Now turn it to 11.
3. Back down a step.
4. Get serious.
5. Get sentimental.
6. But I always try to retain a sense of humor about just how sentimental I'm being. Throw in KC and Jojo if all else fails.
7. Make Track 7 special. This is always, without fail, my thesis statement.
8. Expose them to something I think they'd never have heard without me.
9. If the mix is primarily fast songs at this point, slow it down. If it's slow, speed it up.
10. Make a strong closing statement. If I had two thesis songs and couldn't decide, this is the place for the one that isn't Track 7. Or I might throw on a slow one and let the lyrics stand for themselves.
Et voila.
Bonus Step:
11: Enjoy the glow of gratitude and the satisfaction of a job well done.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The Texas BBQ Day Tour
A couple of weeks ago, Devon got this idea to take a Saturday to sample the best BBQ within driving range of Houston (meaning, within a couple hours of the city), and posed the idea to Noel and me to see if we were interested. We thought it was a good idea, so he invited like TWENTY other people, some of whom had an ounce of sense and said, "uh, no." For those of you still recovering from that day: I salute you.
We all got together at 8:30 at Devon's apartment; the idea was to get started as early as possible because Snow's, our first stop, is only open on Saturdays, from 8AM to "whenever we run out of meat."
This is Snow's.
Here's our group at Snow's.
This is one of Snow's BBQ pits. That's the owner there, showing us how everything works. As I understand it, the smoking process goes something like NOM NOM NOM NOM okay I admit it, I was not listening at all.
We arrived in Lexington (after many a false start, because of course) at around noon, and they only had brisket left at that point. They had gone through 800 pounds of meat - pork, beef, and chicken - before we even got there. I hesitate to say "only" brisket though, because OH MY GOD you guys. This is the best brisket I've ever had. This is some of the best food I've ever had, full stop.
And here is what 2 and 1/2 lbs of meat looks like.
One of my favourite things about the trip was the standardization of certain practices within the BBQ Restaurant Industry. For example, the restaurants never had plates: they just gave us each a square of butcher paper, a set of dinky plastic forks and let us have at it. Here's a picture of my plate at Snow's:
Aren't you glad I made you wait for the colour pictures?
At this point I was fully aware that we had three more stops, so I decided to just have a couple of bites at each place after this. Not everyone was as smart (DAVID). Our next stop was in Lockhart, which is about a 20 minute drive from Lexington. And of course we all had to get on our phones to look up directions...
...or (in my case), Twitter-document our experience:
"Thank god for Crackberries."
The drive to Lockhart was just gorgeous - we were all perfectly satiated, and on the freeway, we got a great show of of really lush fall colours in the trees; it was the kind of nature display you rarely see in Houston.
Of course, Noel's photos are all in sepia tones. Meanwhile, in our car, I chose to do this:
That's helpful.
Even though he had a badass GPS navigator IN HIS VERY PHONE, Devon eventually had to pull over and look at an actual map to find his way:
David saw us from the other car and sent me one of the best in-the-moment-texts I've ever received:
Oh, here's a picture of David from when his car pulled up next to ours in the parking lot while Devon consulted his sextant...doesn't he look like a drug dealer?
Who wants some crack?!
Finally, we got there. Smitty's!
The food here was really good, too, but it didn't have sauce like Snow's - and the saucier, in my opinion, the better. Even if some (unnecessarily combative) places do consider it "cheating". The sausages were delicious, but were really...explodey. Like when you bit into them they had a defense mechanism. A tasty defense mechanism that did not deter me at all, really.
Here is a guy preparing the sausages. MMMM.
Here's one of the meatcutters. He just looks like a badass, doesn't he?
Another standardized procedure of the BBQ Industry was to tie the sausages into these little U-shapes that each weighed a pound (or maybe half a pound?). Think about how much food we've eaten even this early in the game, and Jessie and I decided that it would be a good idea to buy some ice cream. I don't know why. But it was fucking just what the doctor ordered and I don't regret it at all.
Mmmm. Thick...meaty...explodes in your mouth. That's what she said.
After Smitty's, we noticed that our next stop, Kreuz Market, was a mere jaunt away, so we decided to walk it - "to try to burn off some calories" as though that were possible. As it turned out, the route we chose took us under a freeway into this terrible ditch and we had to cross a river and I was like AUGHHH and everyone had to wait for me, OF COURSE. But we did manage to find some cool (if you're 15) graffiti:
So obviously everyone had to have a picture with it:
This explains a lot, when you think about it.
We finally got to Kreuz and saw the following sign that we were in for no sympathy whatsoever:
There was another sign next to this one that said, "No sauce: We've got nothing to hide. No forks: They're at the end of your arms" and then something along the lines of "no napkins: you're wearing one on your back" and "no mercy: you came here for meat and we're gonna give you some goddamn meat so stop your crying, you little babies! What, are ya worried about your daily caloric intake? Take your $200 dungarees and go back to your mama in the city! (spits in the dirt)" You can tell just how much of a wall we were hitting at this time, because look at the sad little amount we ordered here:
But it gets worse. After cramming that down (and a second helping of ice cream - I CAN'T ANSWER FOR MY ACTIONS I WAS OBVIOUSLY CRACKED OUT ON BEEF), we had just one more place to visit. At this juncture, we'd all just started sweating grease freely, and none of us were smiling. Noel looked up after finishing off the ice cream and said, "does anyone else feel like a marathon runner? Like, we're just working through the pain?" and just as he said it I wondered if there was such thing as an eater's high. And then I wondered just how angry an actual Kenyan marathoner would be if he had heard what we had just said.
NEXT UP: City Market, in Luling. This is what we ordered.
Just PATHETIC.
After we picked away at this tiny pile of meat, we wiped our faces and hands as best we could, and packed up our stuff. Devon thought we should commemorate the event with another group picture - kind of a before and after thing, I guess? And here we are:
This is our group (minus Devon, who was holding the camera), wishing that we could all just lie down. Right here in the road, maybe.
As we dragged ourselves back to the cars, we passed a table stacked high with Girl Scout Cookies. A brownie poked her head out from behind a pile of Samoas and said, "Would you like to buy some - "
"NO THANK YOU" yelled David, almost tonelessly. That should paint you a vivid picture of our respective states of mind: David - DAVID - yelled at a little girl for offering him one of the most delicious treats known to mankind, and we couldn't even muster up the energy to chastise him properly. And yet, stuffed though we were, to the point of not being able to comprehend even ONE Thin Mint entering our collective system, the lesson of the day was: "NEXT year, we'll pace ourselves better."
We all got together at 8:30 at Devon's apartment; the idea was to get started as early as possible because Snow's, our first stop, is only open on Saturdays, from 8AM to "whenever we run out of meat."
This is Snow's.
Here's our group at Snow's.
This is one of Snow's BBQ pits. That's the owner there, showing us how everything works. As I understand it, the smoking process goes something like NOM NOM NOM NOM okay I admit it, I was not listening at all.
We arrived in Lexington (after many a false start, because of course) at around noon, and they only had brisket left at that point. They had gone through 800 pounds of meat - pork, beef, and chicken - before we even got there. I hesitate to say "only" brisket though, because OH MY GOD you guys. This is the best brisket I've ever had. This is some of the best food I've ever had, full stop.
And here is what 2 and 1/2 lbs of meat looks like.
One of my favourite things about the trip was the standardization of certain practices within the BBQ Restaurant Industry. For example, the restaurants never had plates: they just gave us each a square of butcher paper, a set of dinky plastic forks and let us have at it. Here's a picture of my plate at Snow's:
Aren't you glad I made you wait for the colour pictures?
At this point I was fully aware that we had three more stops, so I decided to just have a couple of bites at each place after this. Not everyone was as smart (DAVID). Our next stop was in Lockhart, which is about a 20 minute drive from Lexington. And of course we all had to get on our phones to look up directions...
...or (in my case), Twitter-document our experience:
"Thank god for Crackberries."
The drive to Lockhart was just gorgeous - we were all perfectly satiated, and on the freeway, we got a great show of of really lush fall colours in the trees; it was the kind of nature display you rarely see in Houston.
Of course, Noel's photos are all in sepia tones. Meanwhile, in our car, I chose to do this:
That's helpful.
Even though he had a badass GPS navigator IN HIS VERY PHONE, Devon eventually had to pull over and look at an actual map to find his way:
David saw us from the other car and sent me one of the best in-the-moment-texts I've ever received:
Oh, here's a picture of David from when his car pulled up next to ours in the parking lot while Devon consulted his sextant...doesn't he look like a drug dealer?
Who wants some crack?!
Finally, we got there. Smitty's!
The food here was really good, too, but it didn't have sauce like Snow's - and the saucier, in my opinion, the better. Even if some (unnecessarily combative) places do consider it "cheating". The sausages were delicious, but were really...explodey. Like when you bit into them they had a defense mechanism. A tasty defense mechanism that did not deter me at all, really.
Here is a guy preparing the sausages. MMMM.
Here's one of the meatcutters. He just looks like a badass, doesn't he?
Another standardized procedure of the BBQ Industry was to tie the sausages into these little U-shapes that each weighed a pound (or maybe half a pound?). Think about how much food we've eaten even this early in the game, and Jessie and I decided that it would be a good idea to buy some ice cream. I don't know why. But it was fucking just what the doctor ordered and I don't regret it at all.
Mmmm. Thick...meaty...explodes in your mouth. That's what she said.
After Smitty's, we noticed that our next stop, Kreuz Market, was a mere jaunt away, so we decided to walk it - "to try to burn off some calories" as though that were possible. As it turned out, the route we chose took us under a freeway into this terrible ditch and we had to cross a river and I was like AUGHHH and everyone had to wait for me, OF COURSE. But we did manage to find some cool (if you're 15) graffiti:
So obviously everyone had to have a picture with it:
This explains a lot, when you think about it.
We finally got to Kreuz and saw the following sign that we were in for no sympathy whatsoever:
There was another sign next to this one that said, "No sauce: We've got nothing to hide. No forks: They're at the end of your arms" and then something along the lines of "no napkins: you're wearing one on your back" and "no mercy: you came here for meat and we're gonna give you some goddamn meat so stop your crying, you little babies! What, are ya worried about your daily caloric intake? Take your $200 dungarees and go back to your mama in the city! (spits in the dirt)" You can tell just how much of a wall we were hitting at this time, because look at the sad little amount we ordered here:
But it gets worse. After cramming that down (and a second helping of ice cream - I CAN'T ANSWER FOR MY ACTIONS I WAS OBVIOUSLY CRACKED OUT ON BEEF), we had just one more place to visit. At this juncture, we'd all just started sweating grease freely, and none of us were smiling. Noel looked up after finishing off the ice cream and said, "does anyone else feel like a marathon runner? Like, we're just working through the pain?" and just as he said it I wondered if there was such thing as an eater's high. And then I wondered just how angry an actual Kenyan marathoner would be if he had heard what we had just said.
NEXT UP: City Market, in Luling. This is what we ordered.
Just PATHETIC.
After we picked away at this tiny pile of meat, we wiped our faces and hands as best we could, and packed up our stuff. Devon thought we should commemorate the event with another group picture - kind of a before and after thing, I guess? And here we are:
This is our group (minus Devon, who was holding the camera), wishing that we could all just lie down. Right here in the road, maybe.
As we dragged ourselves back to the cars, we passed a table stacked high with Girl Scout Cookies. A brownie poked her head out from behind a pile of Samoas and said, "Would you like to buy some - "
"NO THANK YOU" yelled David, almost tonelessly. That should paint you a vivid picture of our respective states of mind: David - DAVID - yelled at a little girl for offering him one of the most delicious treats known to mankind, and we couldn't even muster up the energy to chastise him properly. And yet, stuffed though we were, to the point of not being able to comprehend even ONE Thin Mint entering our collective system, the lesson of the day was: "NEXT year, we'll pace ourselves better."
Monday, February 15, 2010
Style Rookie
So you guys have heard of Style Rookie by now, yes? In case you haven't (peons), it's the blog (started in 2008) of this 13 year old girl, Tavi, from I-don't-know-where, wherein she comments - at length, sometimes eloquently, often hilariously - about fashion. I know! My first impulse was to be, like, "it's like watching a dog play the piano." Honestly, I didn't know what to think about a little girl who is so...I don't know, when I was 13 I was all over the place. I barely considered one thing (other than boys, of course) for longer than 10 minutes, much less long enough to have a really coherent thought about it and MUCH less long enough to write a whole blog about it for two years! Even now I can't get this site to focus down to anything less than "shizz in my brain?" which is a concern. Anyway, the point: I was highly skeptical when I first heard about Tavi (a year ago now?), but I was reacquainted with her today courtesy of Fashion Week and I have to admit I'm charmed now. Maybe it's the 3 slices of Chocolate Orange I just had for breakfast, but damn...this girl is cuuuute!
And it helps that her caption for this picture was "Two pictures (from Grazia and Tommy Ton for style.com) pieced together because I forgot to ask my dad if he could take one when it was light out. I find the second picture so amusing, especially the version with my dad in it, har har. ONCE AGAIN, I AM SO SRS BZNS. My moleskine is full of secrets."
Are you freaking kidding me. OF COURSE we all know I would have to love a well-written, precocious girl who is simultaneously completely fearless. Again, when I was her age (horf) I couldn't be PAID not to wear Gap or whatever was mid-priced and popular at the time. Thus: BRAVA, TAVI! Represent!
I look forward to finding out what she accomplishes in the near (and distant) future.
And it helps that her caption for this picture was "Two pictures (from Grazia and Tommy Ton for style.com) pieced together because I forgot to ask my dad if he could take one when it was light out. I find the second picture so amusing, especially the version with my dad in it, har har. ONCE AGAIN, I AM SO SRS BZNS. My moleskine is full of secrets."
Are you freaking kidding me. OF COURSE we all know I would have to love a well-written, precocious girl who is simultaneously completely fearless. Again, when I was her age (horf) I couldn't be PAID not to wear Gap or whatever was mid-priced and popular at the time. Thus: BRAVA, TAVI! Represent!
I look forward to finding out what she accomplishes in the near (and distant) future.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
untitled
I see the world
It makes me puke
But then I look at you and know
That somewhere
there’s a someone
who can soothe me
It makes me puke
But then I look at you and know
That somewhere
there’s a someone
who can soothe me
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
BABY ANIMALS!
Here is a video of Melbourne Zoo's very first baby elephant!
1. The accent, duh. THAS NOTTA NOIFE, THEES EES A NOIFE! Be my friend, zookeeper lady!
2. BABY ELEPHANT.
3. Referring to the other female elephant (not the mom) as the baby's "Auntie" AAHHHHWWWWW
4. Footage of the calf briefly drowning herself as voiceover says, "The mom always has to make sure the baby is...being responsible" AWW silly baby! Also, lulz at said silly baby being referred to as "responsible" makes me chuckle.
Here is a photo of the baby with her mum (AS THEY SAY DOWN UNDER):
Doesn't that remind you of that scene from Dumbo where Dumbo's mama is in elephant jail (FOR NO REASON) and Dumbo is sad because he misses his mama and she comforts Dumbo through the bars and...oh my god I'm actually choking up, thinking about it. I have so many issues. Like, so many.
Here is the Melbourne Zoo website.
Baby Elephant's First Swim! from Zoos Victoria on Vimeo.
1. The accent, duh. THAS NOTTA NOIFE, THEES EES A NOIFE! Be my friend, zookeeper lady!
2. BABY ELEPHANT.
3. Referring to the other female elephant (not the mom) as the baby's "Auntie" AAHHHHWWWWW
4. Footage of the calf briefly drowning herself as voiceover says, "The mom always has to make sure the baby is...being responsible" AWW silly baby! Also, lulz at said silly baby being referred to as "responsible" makes me chuckle.
Here is a photo of the baby with her mum (AS THEY SAY DOWN UNDER):
Doesn't that remind you of that scene from Dumbo where Dumbo's mama is in elephant jail (FOR NO REASON) and Dumbo is sad because he misses his mama and she comforts Dumbo through the bars and...oh my god I'm actually choking up, thinking about it. I have so many issues. Like, so many.
Here is the Melbourne Zoo website.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Depressing.
I don't have much to say today, because I'm speechless. I just saw this photo set of Lindsay Lohan through the ages, and here's the salient bit:
Linsday now:
We all know this image.
Most of us, however, don't remember the old version of Lindsay as readily. This next photo was taken in 2003, seven years ago. That's a long time in the life of a teenager, but in the big scheme of things, this picture illustrates just how different things could have been:
It's weird to realize this, but Lindsay is just two weeks older than I am, and - I'm notoriously bad at guessing people's ages, but - it looks like there could be a decade between us. I need to go lay down.
Linsday now:
We all know this image.
Most of us, however, don't remember the old version of Lindsay as readily. This next photo was taken in 2003, seven years ago. That's a long time in the life of a teenager, but in the big scheme of things, this picture illustrates just how different things could have been:
It's weird to realize this, but Lindsay is just two weeks older than I am, and - I'm notoriously bad at guessing people's ages, but - it looks like there could be a decade between us. I need to go lay down.
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