A decent, occasionally advanced level movie parlor game: Look at the evening schedule for Turner Classic Movies and see if you can guess their programming theme from the movie titles. Sometimes it's obvious (films with Joan Crawford; films directed by Orson Welles), sometimes not so much (Haskell Wexler as cinematographer).
Tonight, for instance, their evening's line-up starts with: The Postman Always Rings Twice, Hannah and Her Sisters and Mogambo. I couldn't think what the theme was until I looked it up: Cheaters! Duh. Mighta guessed it if I looked at the others (Madame Bovary and The End of the Affair). Or not.
I do love TCM. Yesterday their schedule included both a Joan Crawford set and the 1984 breakddance classic Beat Street. Go Ted.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
hurry up, don't wait
Today's fud homily: Pancakes teach you no conventional lessons about life. That is, they are best made in a thrashing hurry and taste best with no time to savor either with others or by yourself.It does make them pretty decent trying not to spend money eating out but oh I'd like some yummy breakast fud fare. Today's were maybe my most successful yet (the recipe? why, Joy of Cooking's basic pancakes, of course, and none of those silly add-ins, although I use soy milk not cow's), and I made them from start to finish in the time after I'd turned the burner on to heat. In my hurry I whisked the dry ingredients together well, which really helps later when you will be barely incorporating the wet into the dry and there are gonna be some lumps but this way not as many. I threw the butter to melt in a metal measuring cup on the heating burner for a few seconds and it melted fast and cooled down fast as long as I took it on/off in the right time. Everything was flung together and cooked in a hurry and I honestly think you really shouldn't ever wait (for another person or another pancake) to eat a pancake, that they're best just one at a time off the griddle with any crispness they have intact. I cooked three in this case, and they did fine waiting for 5 minutes, but still. Incredibly good & fluffy, the most seriously ephemeral things. For as stodgy filling food as they can be/their rep is, they are actually very fleeting and transitory. Hence their native habitat of the diner, where they can make more people happy/cranked out in more sensibly large batches.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
1. I luv watching Turk do the BBD dance. Happy happy. I always loved that song (the actual "Poison" video is a little too...D*ck in a Box, even for somebody who loves sometimes embarrassing old hip-hop). It's the bass! Not to get too far into why, but it's always the bass, esp. with that snare/high-hat/ring-ting overlay. I'm such a suckah.
2. I actually met somebody last week whose father is a blacksmith. An actual iron-smashing, sweating, horseshoe-banging blacksmith. Really, how neato is that, is all that I have to say. How cool.
3. Super delish: the house smoked salmon with mustard creme fraiche potato salad appetizer at Bin 36. In a moment of ¡WinePanic! I ordered oaked Chardonnay with it, but I woulda liked it better un-oaked mit.
4. Can't currently get over, among others: Slick Rick or The Steve Miller Band. Yootoob yootoob. I amuse myself sometimes imagining navigating my everyday life (or anybody's) talking like Slick Rick: making gyn appointments, chit-chatting with cashiers, taking communion at church. Hee HEE. So much sass.
5. I can no longer masquerade as Donnie Van Zant. I thwacked 5-6" off my hair in a fit of exhilarated exasperation at the sheer...impenetrability of the mess, even after pouring in a whole bottle of conditioner. Was growing dreads no matter what I did. It *looked* fine when up--I could take a tiny rubber band and secure just the very outside of it all in a tiny lil knot uptop and look like a Victorian housekeeper, with a big pouffy skein on my head, *without* any ratting necessary, but I'd take it down and....Medea. So it's gone, and hair is much chastened. Makes sense in the new economy, eh. I sometimes have fantasies about living on a Greek island and cuttin all my hair off, letting this scalp see sun for once in its Midwestern life, rubbing olive oil into it. I'm definitely one of those people with bleached-white-houses-on-Greek-island-hillside escape fantasies. All very abstract and full of blocks of color (blue, white, maybe some others.). Why am I talking about this? oh yeah, WINTER'S HERE. Feels like it, at least.
6. It goes against everything learned and unlearned about fashion, but I am flirting naughtily with the idea of a...muu muu! Authentic Hawaiian type, but a you-kids-get-off-my-lawn garment, nonetheless. Some aspect of this gesture falls under the idea of reclamation, since it's the garment fat girls cast off in order to wear our cute tight Torrid tops and all that. I dunno, they seem dang handy to me. Kinda pretty/fun. I'm tempted.
2. I actually met somebody last week whose father is a blacksmith. An actual iron-smashing, sweating, horseshoe-banging blacksmith. Really, how neato is that, is all that I have to say. How cool.
3. Super delish: the house smoked salmon with mustard creme fraiche potato salad appetizer at Bin 36. In a moment of ¡WinePanic! I ordered oaked Chardonnay with it, but I woulda liked it better un-oaked mit.
4. Can't currently get over, among others: Slick Rick or The Steve Miller Band. Yootoob yootoob. I amuse myself sometimes imagining navigating my everyday life (or anybody's) talking like Slick Rick: making gyn appointments, chit-chatting with cashiers, taking communion at church. Hee HEE. So much sass.
5. I can no longer masquerade as Donnie Van Zant. I thwacked 5-6" off my hair in a fit of exhilarated exasperation at the sheer...impenetrability of the mess, even after pouring in a whole bottle of conditioner. Was growing dreads no matter what I did. It *looked* fine when up--I could take a tiny rubber band and secure just the very outside of it all in a tiny lil knot uptop and look like a Victorian housekeeper, with a big pouffy skein on my head, *without* any ratting necessary, but I'd take it down and....Medea. So it's gone, and hair is much chastened. Makes sense in the new economy, eh. I sometimes have fantasies about living on a Greek island and cuttin all my hair off, letting this scalp see sun for once in its Midwestern life, rubbing olive oil into it. I'm definitely one of those people with bleached-white-houses-on-Greek-island-hillside escape fantasies. All very abstract and full of blocks of color (blue, white, maybe some others.). Why am I talking about this? oh yeah, WINTER'S HERE. Feels like it, at least.
6. It goes against everything learned and unlearned about fashion, but I am flirting naughtily with the idea of a...muu muu! Authentic Hawaiian type, but a you-kids-get-off-my-lawn garment, nonetheless. Some aspect of this gesture falls under the idea of reclamation, since it's the garment fat girls cast off in order to wear our cute tight Torrid tops and all that. I dunno, they seem dang handy to me. Kinda pretty/fun. I'm tempted.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Minnie the Minutiae (amended)
[It's my Blog and I'll Obsess If I Want To.]
So, WHY....I wondered yesterday, watching a repeat of the pilot episode of the Gilmore Girls, did the very recognizable title credit sequence/type choice undergo a subtle but strange change?
The title page of the credit sequence has always bothered me for one (seemingly) unrelated reason, the incorrect capitalization. Here is the first image of the pilot; it opens with (what you might call in book design) a half-title or bastard title, just black background and white type:
...in which, strangely, they don't capitalize "girls." The show never capitalized Girls, anywhere. It never looks anything but sloppy to me! Maybe they're trying to emphasize the proper noun-ness of the word "Gilmore" in contrast, but I ain't buyin it. Especially in contrast with the very formal type (more on that in a sec) it doesn't work.
[Another thing to note about that half-title page is how reminiscent it is of a Woody Allen title page, especially as both the capital and small-case G are very similar to the Gs in his famous Windsor Elongated that he uses in almost all his films. Notice the small G in this title, although this also allows you to see how different the other lowercase letters are:
Allen, btw, apparently chose Windsor at the casual suggestion of typographer Ed Benguiat, at least according to this blog entry. I always wondered!]
So there's that problem, but I noticed something odd in the actual opening credit title sequence in the pilot, which is that the lettering is really tracked out. Here is the normal--later--opening title page:
And here's the pilot page:
Look at how much more loosey-goosey it is. Very odd. Totally tracked out (not kerned, I don't think). I can't quite figure out what the point of it is. Or was, since they fixed it. It's just not the usual kind of thing that gets fixed after the fact. Usually things are overhauled wholesale, not....tweaked. Here it looks like somebody took a second look and hit command-shift-[ a few times (as it were).
The only reason I can see that they did this is to use the ligature of the "gi" in girls in the tightened up version. Maybe that was it. But that just emphasizes the incorrect capitalization! Gah. Not to mention the tightening up wasn't very well done, period.
It is a fairly effective type choice, regardless. I sometimes think of it as a Metropolitan font, since a slightly more shaded version was used so effectively for the Whit Stillman movie (here's the title page from that trailer):
Since the font -- type -- has its origins in engraved type, especially those used on invitations (I guess Mrs. John L. Strong or Crane probably'd call it shaded Roman), it makes a huge amount of sense for that movie's titles. It suggests the round of invitations and social events the characters are all living in, the cage of adult formality they are playing with/growing into, the film's wordy, literary qualities, the pretty but old-fashioned and conformist world it depicts, the sort of bleak--b&w--sad, wintry undertones, everything. They even switch types to emphasize it in the promo for Barcelona, Stillman's next film:
And the Criterion release takes it even farther, using hand-drawn lettering and engraved-looking illustrative style:
(If you look at the IMDB photo page for the movie, which shows a series of VHS/DVD covers, you'll see a little lesson in what people have found "classy" in the last 28 years....the range of typefaces is interesting. Much bigger, horsier 90s choices at the beginning.)
Anyhow, ponder, ponder.
Reference source: I've recommended this site before, but I'm going to again because I love it so: this site has title pages from over five thousand movies to look at, all lined up next to each other. Hands down one of my favorite sites, ever. If you love letters/lettering/design/layout/text/type/fonts, it's endlessly entertaining. Here's a snapshot of their recent additions page...delish.
The black and white pages are always, always the most delicious...all the creamy grays and shadows. Another random fact that emerges: how tiny titles are now becoming. (Maybe that's another reason why the GG title got tracked in.) Look at how absurdly sub-fusc the title page for Michael Clayton is:
The only way you could read that title page is on a big screen... ADDENDUM: Just look at this not-quite accurate (it's from the trailer; I think the title sequence one is slightly diff, but I changed my mind and couldn't resist adding this) but fairly representative shot of the title from Wall Street! Beyond horsy.
OKAY, enough wambling around letters for now. Fonty fun.
So, WHY....I wondered yesterday, watching a repeat of the pilot episode of the Gilmore Girls, did the very recognizable title credit sequence/type choice undergo a subtle but strange change?
The title page of the credit sequence has always bothered me for one (seemingly) unrelated reason, the incorrect capitalization. Here is the first image of the pilot; it opens with (what you might call in book design) a half-title or bastard title, just black background and white type:
...in which, strangely, they don't capitalize "girls." The show never capitalized Girls, anywhere. It never looks anything but sloppy to me! Maybe they're trying to emphasize the proper noun-ness of the word "Gilmore" in contrast, but I ain't buyin it. Especially in contrast with the very formal type (more on that in a sec) it doesn't work.
[Another thing to note about that half-title page is how reminiscent it is of a Woody Allen title page, especially as both the capital and small-case G are very similar to the Gs in his famous Windsor Elongated that he uses in almost all his films. Notice the small G in this title, although this also allows you to see how different the other lowercase letters are:
Allen, btw, apparently chose Windsor at the casual suggestion of typographer Ed Benguiat, at least according to this blog entry. I always wondered!]
So there's that problem, but I noticed something odd in the actual opening credit title sequence in the pilot, which is that the lettering is really tracked out. Here is the normal--later--opening title page:
And here's the pilot page:
Look at how much more loosey-goosey it is. Very odd. Totally tracked out (not kerned, I don't think). I can't quite figure out what the point of it is. Or was, since they fixed it. It's just not the usual kind of thing that gets fixed after the fact. Usually things are overhauled wholesale, not....tweaked. Here it looks like somebody took a second look and hit command-shift-[ a few times (as it were).
The only reason I can see that they did this is to use the ligature of the "gi" in girls in the tightened up version. Maybe that was it. But that just emphasizes the incorrect capitalization! Gah. Not to mention the tightening up wasn't very well done, period.
It is a fairly effective type choice, regardless. I sometimes think of it as a Metropolitan font, since a slightly more shaded version was used so effectively for the Whit Stillman movie (here's the title page from that trailer):
Since the font -- type -- has its origins in engraved type, especially those used on invitations (I guess Mrs. John L. Strong or Crane probably'd call it shaded Roman), it makes a huge amount of sense for that movie's titles. It suggests the round of invitations and social events the characters are all living in, the cage of adult formality they are playing with/growing into, the film's wordy, literary qualities, the pretty but old-fashioned and conformist world it depicts, the sort of bleak--b&w--sad, wintry undertones, everything. They even switch types to emphasize it in the promo for Barcelona, Stillman's next film:
And the Criterion release takes it even farther, using hand-drawn lettering and engraved-looking illustrative style:
(If you look at the IMDB photo page for the movie, which shows a series of VHS/DVD covers, you'll see a little lesson in what people have found "classy" in the last 28 years....the range of typefaces is interesting. Much bigger, horsier 90s choices at the beginning.)
Anyhow, ponder, ponder.
Reference source: I've recommended this site before, but I'm going to again because I love it so: this site has title pages from over five thousand movies to look at, all lined up next to each other. Hands down one of my favorite sites, ever. If you love letters/lettering/design/layout/text/type/fonts, it's endlessly entertaining. Here's a snapshot of their recent additions page...delish.
The black and white pages are always, always the most delicious...all the creamy grays and shadows. Another random fact that emerges: how tiny titles are now becoming. (Maybe that's another reason why the GG title got tracked in.) Look at how absurdly sub-fusc the title page for Michael Clayton is:
The only way you could read that title page is on a big screen... ADDENDUM: Just look at this not-quite accurate (it's from the trailer; I think the title sequence one is slightly diff, but I changed my mind and couldn't resist adding this) but fairly representative shot of the title from Wall Street! Beyond horsy.
OKAY, enough wambling around letters for now. Fonty fun.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
The Queen of England is the most widely-traveled head of state in history. She was also the first monarch to write email (1976). I dunno, she--herself--not the institution (can one make this distinction?)--is startin to grow on me more and more, and it's not just the Corgis™. I like what she's done with the choices life handed her. And that she didn't get along with Thatcher. And her hats. I really like her clothing choices, which are way more daring and brightly-colored than are credited with.
I am aware this makes me seem like another dumb-ass royalist, but sometimes I get exhausted having every side of an argument. Plus, what can I say, most of the time I think I am comfortable with humankind's need for q/Queens, especially when we have the same name. Hee. I don't know that you can grow up high-church Episco + gayboy in your sensibilities and not be reconciled to our need for ceremony. All you have to do is go to one funeral to realize that. Anyhow, I think it is cool how much E II has traveled, even if it had its roots in nasty English colonialism. Our world would be much different now if Bushie II had done that. Had just been forced to sit through endless dinners with so many people so different from you.
I'm out of the habit of blogging. I have had incredibly crucial news to report (such as the rediscovery of an extinct pengie) but I'm out of the rhythm of getting the news to the People.
love,
Nellie Bly
I am aware this makes me seem like another dumb-ass royalist, but sometimes I get exhausted having every side of an argument. Plus, what can I say, most of the time I think I am comfortable with humankind's need for q/Queens, especially when we have the same name. Hee. I don't know that you can grow up high-church Episco + gayboy in your sensibilities and not be reconciled to our need for ceremony. All you have to do is go to one funeral to realize that. Anyhow, I think it is cool how much E II has traveled, even if it had its roots in nasty English colonialism. Our world would be much different now if Bushie II had done that. Had just been forced to sit through endless dinners with so many people so different from you.
I'm out of the habit of blogging. I have had incredibly crucial news to report (such as the rediscovery of an extinct pengie) but I'm out of the rhythm of getting the news to the People.
love,
Nellie Bly
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Je suis retourné. I haf my noo keyboard from The Apple That Cares™, and now I type carefree, bang my thumbs on the space bar--and hit that apostrophe key--with wild-eyed abandon. Kinda had to re-learn how to type. The only difference? This keyboard is currently still wrapped up in plastic like a couch in a Queens living room. I don't want anything to get on this one. I'm not sure the Mac open design does much good in keeping keyboards alive. Despite lots of air, canned and otherwise, judicious blowings and proddings and pokings, they always Die. So for now...prophylactic measures persist.
Idiotic media crushes: Michael Symon (it's the voice) and Huge Ackman (it's the Huge). Those are some beautiful dudes.
Another current pash: Erik Satie. I'm in love with his world of goofy music neologisms. Which is very fun combined with music you actually like, rather than just find interesting. Neither can I still shake the Southern Rock obsession nor the big moments in opera obsession, nor the 80s b-boy/new jack thing, making for weird ear worms at any given time. I do love YouTube. Reminds me of playing in the radio station library in college. I am starting my day today with Full Force, Lucia Popp and 38 Special.
To wit: my hair is very shaggy and Medea-esque at the mo. I keep thinking with some peroxide, an old morning jacket and a snakeskin Hi-Roller, I could turn myself into Donnie Van Zant. God knows my arms are short enough.
It's funny the things you remember. For some reason right now I can't stop remembering driving around in a VW in the dark with Lynyrd Skynyrd on the tape deck, looking for a drive-in near Atlanta, a night so hot we had to keep the car on for the A/C but hot-wire the lights to turn them off once we got there.
I don't know that I really want to bail out the auto industry. Thank you.
I have my last visit for major dental work this week--that makes 8 or 9 visits now, all-told, I forget. I am frankly astonished and crazily proud of myself for getting through this, dental phobias, tiny mouth, no money, novocaine resistance, fitful ability to breathe through my nose, tearful insurance woes and all. I have threatened to throw an incredibly boring party to celebrate. I was picturing people sitting around on chairs saying nothing to each other, but perhaps I'll up the boring by providing dental health pamphlets and unsalted potato chips. Par-tay.
Many many congratulations to my good pal D and his new wife who tied the knot recently. Much love and many happy returns. Mahal kita.
Idiotic media crushes: Michael Symon (it's the voice) and Huge Ackman (it's the Huge). Those are some beautiful dudes.
Another current pash: Erik Satie. I'm in love with his world of goofy music neologisms. Which is very fun combined with music you actually like, rather than just find interesting. Neither can I still shake the Southern Rock obsession nor the big moments in opera obsession, nor the 80s b-boy/new jack thing, making for weird ear worms at any given time. I do love YouTube. Reminds me of playing in the radio station library in college. I am starting my day today with Full Force, Lucia Popp and 38 Special.
To wit: my hair is very shaggy and Medea-esque at the mo. I keep thinking with some peroxide, an old morning jacket and a snakeskin Hi-Roller, I could turn myself into Donnie Van Zant. God knows my arms are short enough.
It's funny the things you remember. For some reason right now I can't stop remembering driving around in a VW in the dark with Lynyrd Skynyrd on the tape deck, looking for a drive-in near Atlanta, a night so hot we had to keep the car on for the A/C but hot-wire the lights to turn them off once we got there.
I don't know that I really want to bail out the auto industry. Thank you.
I have my last visit for major dental work this week--that makes 8 or 9 visits now, all-told, I forget. I am frankly astonished and crazily proud of myself for getting through this, dental phobias, tiny mouth, no money, novocaine resistance, fitful ability to breathe through my nose, tearful insurance woes and all. I have threatened to throw an incredibly boring party to celebrate. I was picturing people sitting around on chairs saying nothing to each other, but perhaps I'll up the boring by providing dental health pamphlets and unsalted potato chips. Par-tay.
Many many congratulations to my good pal D and his new wife who tied the knot recently. Much love and many happy returns. Mahal kita.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Temporary toof is now very temporary. Came off eating Dots! (how cliche) Feels fweird. Toof goes on, toof goes off. Soon to have real one please.
Also to arrive soon: keyboard mit space key. Then typing two short paras will no longer take 10 minutes and xtra carpal tunnel. GOOD TO HAVE. Space and teef.
You dont miss what your two banging thumbs can do until they...cant.
Also to arrive soon: keyboard mit space key. Then typing two short paras will no longer take 10 minutes and xtra carpal tunnel. GOOD TO HAVE. Space and teef.
You dont miss what your two banging thumbs can do until they...cant.
Saturday, November 08, 2008
(From Obama's campaign photographer, David Katz//Barack Obama photostream on Flickr. )
Blah blah blah blah...First Doggie. What about a kittycat? Your pro-dog, anti-cat agenda has been clear for some time, America. I bet Willie the Cat voted Dem.
From Jerry Orbachs first film (Cop Hater). He was a revelation as the teenage badass rebel!, and identifiable only (fascinatingly) by his characteristic headdip and beginnings of the Hooded Gaze. Voice not really the same, nor face.
Have you ever seen such a beautiful escritoire? Like a rococo indoor swimming pool.Really into right now:
* Tasha Tudor/19th century portraiture that predates
* Reports from the DL Sayers society and her poem 'War Cat'
* Todd Rundgren's great pop tunes
* Macha/o opera feats: High Cs, Fs, Bflats. Fille de Regiment, I Puritani, Il Trovatore, Lakme. MONSTER TRUCK RALLEY SHIT.
Via cuteoverload via Flickr:
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Still no space bar. This prevents great art, I am willing to hazard, yes it does, and encourages much frustration, thatmuchIknow.
I bawled for hours last night, occasionally throwing my shirt over my head like an overwhelmed maid in a drawing room play, and my heart continues to burst from pride and excitement. I was thrilled at how wonderful McCains speech was, even--humble, direct, setting very good tone for future. (Where did that guy come from.) And Michelles Rothko-ish dress. Overall I am still basically...overwhelmed. Happy, proud, verklempt, ready to get to work, amazed. So proud. When have we ever been on a ride that was like that--ended like that--in US? Everything has (blessedly) changed to keep up with the Change that was happening anyhow.
Nah, no words for this one. Not yet.
I bawled for hours last night, occasionally throwing my shirt over my head like an overwhelmed maid in a drawing room play, and my heart continues to burst from pride and excitement. I was thrilled at how wonderful McCains speech was, even--humble, direct, setting very good tone for future. (Where did that guy come from.) And Michelles Rothko-ish dress. Overall I am still basically...overwhelmed. Happy, proud, verklempt, ready to get to work, amazed. So proud. When have we ever been on a ride that was like that--ended like that--in US? Everything has (blessedly) changed to keep up with the Change that was happening anyhow.
Nah, no words for this one. Not yet.
Saturday, November 01, 2008
That was a really weird All Hallow’s Eve. Today is weird too. This week is weird, and unique, esp. here, in Chicago. I cannot really explain the confluence of energy that you feel, just sticking your finger out the window. Hope, yearning and realized, and real time, real life wishing and loss and cynicism and youth and age and politics and just everyday life…
Last night--humor me--I felt the ghosts of so many swirling around. It was chaotic and sad and I couldn’t stop thinking about Studs. Today the lock on the door twixt the beyond and here is in place again sorta and there is more peace, and it is starting to make a little more sense. But what a wild time to be alive and broke and hopeful and young enough to have some future left but old enough to be way out to sea already.
Note: TCM is showing the ultimate tale of demagogueric caution tonight (A Face in the Crowd). Its part of a fame-themed evening, though, not politics. Way interestin.
Last night--humor me--I felt the ghosts of so many swirling around. It was chaotic and sad and I couldn’t stop thinking about Studs. Today the lock on the door twixt the beyond and here is in place again sorta and there is more peace, and it is starting to make a little more sense. But what a wild time to be alive and broke and hopeful and young enough to have some future left but old enough to be way out to sea already.
Note: TCM is showing the ultimate tale of demagogueric caution tonight (A Face in the Crowd). Its part of a fame-themed evening, though, not politics. Way interestin.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Evidence (left), BTW, of my concentrated effort at weekend fun!It was, rather, barring very cold pool water, a handsy dude in a suit, no pancakes and the sheer distance of Chicago distances. Hollyfo (left) is definitely fun!
I guess I am a wimpy city girl, but I cannot believe how far OUT some burbs are! Literally (only).
So, some efforts at fun being made. More to follow, of a rather more economical variety, probably.
To wit (not really; nerdiest news ever): I think I have found a very cheap second-hand sewing basket. Plan to engage in needlework this winter (not knitting). Feelin crafty.
MY CUT AND PASTE MUSCLES ARE EXHAUSTED!!
While the process of cleaning up areas of life long left unattended is a satisfaction and a pleasure, I would like to note that it is still not very much fun, and that I am still spending far too much time with and writing way way too many checks to doctors, endodontists, dentists, hygienists, GYNs, phlebotomists, nurses, bankers, COBRA administrators, insurance vendors, accountants, the Internal Revenue Service, physical therapists, cleaners, pharmacists, etc. They are all very kindly people, except perhaps for those involved in vagaries of the cable industry, but it does not change the altogether gray profile of this sort of activity. Need more fun. And not just wholesome natural fun.
If you are wondering why this is legible, it is because I went through and pasted a space in between each word. This activity is not contributing to my fun level either, in fact rather the opposite. Try it. You will see.
One bit of good news? I have hagelslag, milk & dark. Lucky little Dutch girl.
If you are wondering why this is legible, it is because I went through and pasted a space in between each word. This activity is not contributing to my fun level either, in fact rather the opposite. Try it. You will see.
One bit of good news? I have hagelslag, milk & dark. Lucky little Dutch girl.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
InWhichIBreathlesslyBlog
IAmWorkingWithoutASpaceBarKeyRightNow!
ItMakesForVeryInteresting,Hyper&Badly=punctuatedSentences&
InCaseYouCantTellImMissingAFewOtherKeysToo(hyphens&Apostraphes!)
Actually,ThisMakesItAllALittleLIkeEricaJongsPoetry(SheLuvedAmpersands).
IHaveManyStoriesOfDoctorsAndDentistsandInsurancetoTellThatAre
Boring,ButTheOneIWillTell:
HappenedToday.TheyHadtoDoaBigBloodDrawOnMeandItTookat
Least45Minutes!
IamAPinCushion!JabsAndBandaidsAllOverMyArmsAsTheyKept
TryingNewSpots...
Actually,IamVasoVagal,soMyBodyKeepsQUOTERunningAwayUNQUOTE
FromthePanicOftheNeedle.
NothingICanDoAboutIt,ButIHaveStartedCallingMyselfPagliacci,
becauseIFeelLikeHimWithCottonBalls
AllUpAndDownMyArms.
ThisLooksPrettyPsycho,DoesntIt?AnythingLooksPsychoTypedLikeThis.
SoIWillSignOffForNowAndNoteThatIAmStartingtoPictureWhatIt
MightActuallyBeLike==NextTuesday,IMean,InGrantPark==
IAmLettingMyselfImagineThisNewWorld.ItIsSoExciting.
ItMakesMeMoreEmotionalAndProudandExcitedThanMakesSenseto
ArticulateHere,ButIHaveHopeAgain.
p.s.NewKeyboardToComeFromAppleCareSoon!
MacKeyboardsAintThatGreatIMExp.
ItMakesForVeryInteresting,Hyper&Badly=punctuatedSentences&
InCaseYouCantTellImMissingAFewOtherKeysToo(hyphens&Apostraphes!)
Actually,ThisMakesItAllALittleLIkeEricaJongsPoetry(SheLuvedAmpersands).
IHaveManyStoriesOfDoctorsAndDentistsandInsurancetoTellThatAre
Boring,ButTheOneIWillTell:
HappenedToday.TheyHadtoDoaBigBloodDrawOnMeandItTookat
Least45Minutes!
IamAPinCushion!JabsAndBandaidsAllOverMyArmsAsTheyKept
TryingNewSpots...
Actually,IamVasoVagal,soMyBodyKeepsQUOTERunningAwayUNQUOTE
FromthePanicOftheNeedle.
NothingICanDoAboutIt,ButIHaveStartedCallingMyselfPagliacci,
becauseIFeelLikeHimWithCottonBalls
AllUpAndDownMyArms.
ThisLooksPrettyPsycho,DoesntIt?AnythingLooksPsychoTypedLikeThis.
SoIWillSignOffForNowAndNoteThatIAmStartingtoPictureWhatIt
MightActuallyBeLike==NextTuesday,IMean,InGrantPark==
IAmLettingMyselfImagineThisNewWorld.ItIsSoExciting.
ItMakesMeMoreEmotionalAndProudandExcitedThanMakesSenseto
ArticulateHere,ButIHaveHopeAgain.
p.s.NewKeyboardToComeFromAppleCareSoon!
MacKeyboardsAintThatGreatIMExp.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Okay, this is gonna be one idiotic list. Full of bathos. But as usual...semper blogelis. Smyblog.
1. I can never exit the Kennedy at Ohio without thinking about Mal*chi Ritscher. That spot is haunted, as sure as sure. Has a haint.
2. Dick's Last Res*rt is closing. The good times are over? Where will bachelorette parties from Schaumburg go? With paper condoms on their heads?
3. Surprisingly super-good: vegetarian bulgogi from Mana Food Bar on Division. That marinade would be good on a cardboard box, but still, yum.
4. Shiny things I'm enamored with right now: Lustreware, especially Czech/Bavarian and Japanese, only the solid (non-patterned) kind bordered with black; guilloche enamel--big solid colors; antique Georg Jensen and Christofle flatware; hotel silver; railroad and ship china/silver; Aaron Basha shoes; semi-precious cocktail rings; Tiffany Paloma Sugar Stacks; mirrored furniture...anything. Sparkly!!! Je suis en racoon. Also traditional brightly colored stuff like Fiestaware and colored bakelite. Colors, sparkle.
5. From today's Times: 100K people on just a regular campaign stump in St. Louis to see Obama yesterday. Amazing.
6. This is kinda Jerry's Kids, bringing it up here/like this, not to mention burying a lead, not to mention I'm not givin the topic enough room, but I have lipo-lymphedema, and I feel like being halfway public about this, as it is a condition that affects my every day life tremendously, down to the way I never stop getting hippier, to the pain when I walk. More at some point, but, whatever, I'm just throwin it in for the moment.
7. If J*mes Cameron doesn't just give that broke 96yo Titanic survivor a fistful of residuals I will lose all respect for him.
8. One reason I love my Skip: I discovered recently we both had issues with Cook's Illustrated's recommendation involving vanilla extract. Only she actually wrote them a letter, bless her.
ONWARD AND UPWARD!!!!!!! EXCELSIOR.
1. I can never exit the Kennedy at Ohio without thinking about Mal*chi Ritscher. That spot is haunted, as sure as sure. Has a haint.
2. Dick's Last Res*rt is closing. The good times are over? Where will bachelorette parties from Schaumburg go? With paper condoms on their heads?
3. Surprisingly super-good: vegetarian bulgogi from Mana Food Bar on Division. That marinade would be good on a cardboard box, but still, yum.
4. Shiny things I'm enamored with right now: Lustreware, especially Czech/Bavarian and Japanese, only the solid (non-patterned) kind bordered with black; guilloche enamel--big solid colors; antique Georg Jensen and Christofle flatware; hotel silver; railroad and ship china/silver; Aaron Basha shoes; semi-precious cocktail rings; Tiffany Paloma Sugar Stacks; mirrored furniture...anything. Sparkly!!! Je suis en racoon. Also traditional brightly colored stuff like Fiestaware and colored bakelite. Colors, sparkle.
5. From today's Times: 100K people on just a regular campaign stump in St. Louis to see Obama yesterday. Amazing.6. This is kinda Jerry's Kids, bringing it up here/like this, not to mention burying a lead, not to mention I'm not givin the topic enough room, but I have lipo-lymphedema, and I feel like being halfway public about this, as it is a condition that affects my every day life tremendously, down to the way I never stop getting hippier, to the pain when I walk. More at some point, but, whatever, I'm just throwin it in for the moment.
7. If J*mes Cameron doesn't just give that broke 96yo Titanic survivor a fistful of residuals I will lose all respect for him.
8. One reason I love my Skip: I discovered recently we both had issues with Cook's Illustrated's recommendation involving vanilla extract. Only she actually wrote them a letter, bless her.
ONWARD AND UPWARD!!!!!!! EXCELSIOR.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
You know, I'm taking my temperature here, but I have absolutely nothing to say about M*dge and Guy breaking up. There was, of course, an initial gasp-with-paw-to-chest that necessitated an email to my friend Fred, but now I feel very meh. What does that mean? Oh wait, it means nothing, doesn't it. Eh, I dunno. All I can say is that this news FITS with this world of chaos we are living in. And it will be interesting to see her enter her Tom Hayden phase--I'm assuming that's where she is on the Jane Fonda timeline.
In the meantime I give you Madeline Kahn choosing participants for the orgy. :45-1:25 shoulda been enough to get that woman an Oscar, yo. Happy happy joy joy.
In the meantime I give you Madeline Kahn choosing participants for the orgy. :45-1:25 shoulda been enough to get that woman an Oscar, yo. Happy happy joy joy.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
St. Apollonia is the patron saint of dentistry and dental work. If you have a moment, cast a few sou or some obeisance in her direction today. I myself will be leaving an offering of Glide dental floss (won't get stuck!), Stim-u-dents (mint-flavored!) and some valiums. Oh, and piles and piles of cash.
Monday, October 13, 2008
more receets
Creamed Chicken...Backwards*!
with a bonus sidecar recipe**
with a bonus sidecar recipe**
I kinda thought this one up--made it--in stages as laziness, defrosting times and annoying kitchen temperatures permitted.
1. Cook an entire bag of Lundberg's Countrywild Brown Rice (about 2-1/2 c. dry) in appropriate amount of chicken stock, thinned with a lil water if necc, plus salt and a little butter. (Lundberg's rices are so delish--this blend is long grain brown, Wehani and Black Japonica). About halfway through the 50 min cooking time add an additional 2-1/4 c. chicken stock. 12 minutes before cooking time is over stir in a cup of uncooked quinoa. Let it stand when finished; fluff.
Now you have rice for days, which is good because sometimes that 50 minutes is a very long time, but still...that's a lot of rice. *Let's think up something to put on it. Many many portions of it. I know, that chicken in the freezer. Here we go.
2. Poach five big chicken breast halves in 1 quart chicken stock, 1/2 a bottle of white wine, some apple cider vinegar if the wine's too sweet, an entire head of garlic (depapered, whole cloves, say 10-12), whole coriander seeds, bay leaves, peppercorns (if you can get them out of the mill). Doesn't take too long. Remove chicken to chill, strain poaching liquid into another container, adding back the garlic cloves. Let everything chill overnight cause yer sick of chicken.
3. Pick over and then shred the chicken breast halves (I find it good to watch TV or listen to the radio during this part...so boring). In a separate cup, make up a quick mini "marinade": a big spoon of grainy mustard, a little maple syrup, Worcestershire sauce, soy, a little balsamic, lots of salt and pepper, and I added a squeeze of this funny pomegranate glaze I have. Stir it to mix, then stir it into the plain poached chicken, mixing well, letting it soak up the flavors a lil.
4. Pour the reserved poaching liquid--the wine and stock--into a pan and heat to a boil. Add a cold cornstarch slurry (say 2-3 T.) and let it start thickening up, whisking hard. Then **add all but about one portion of the shredded, marinaded chicken. Stir, and let cook and continue thickening for 10-15 minutes.
Then it's done! When the heat came off I felt the urge to suddenly add sage and oregano, so I did.
5. Oh yeah, there's no cream in this creamed chicken, that's how I roll. I bet it'd rock though. As would (I keep thinking) some easy-melting Italian cheese like fontina or asiago in some fashion, or all kindsa herbs and obviously you could stretch the whole thing much further with some complementary vegetables like asparagus tips, mushrooms, carrots, thin beans...it doesn't seem like it'd much enjoy sharing room with stolid parsnips and things. I like my dish pretty severely plain, though, and my vegetables in a separatist, usually uncooked fashion. So his recipe is kind of a base. And the plan is to have this on my fabulous brown rice for many moons, freezing enough that I don't get horribly sick of it before it's gone.
**So you have this extra, poached, and over-seasoned chicken. That is, in case it wasn't clear, the "marinade" is a little too strong on a bite by bite basis, but in the creamed chicken it becomes diluted in the somewhat bland poaching liquid and everything seasons up right. Using the same principle, add some mayonnaise to the reserved chicken, let the flavors marry for a moment or two, and you have amazing chicken salad--great (as I had it) on Brownberry 7-Grain bread with sprinklings of leftover but good freezer cheese (Havarti, cheddar). Would also rock with apples, almonds, grapes, celery...
Saturday, October 11, 2008
So, just to cast my vote: when they start divvying up nouveau WPA jobs in the next couple years, I would like to be doing murals, printmaking or design. ( I don't want to be immodest, but suddenly the trajectory of my GenX life is making sense.) And I will have somewhere to channel my constant desire to create/decorate/paint every bit of my own architecture folly for a while until I can afford a place to play with. I actually have a great aunt, with the same two first names as I, who was an artist and did dozens of WPA murals around Chicago, especially in the public schools. Perhaps the whole thing is sort of inevitable. Either that, or I shall restart/join the Roycrofters.
Hilarious fact from most recent Cooks Illustrated: If you run cheap vodka through a Brita, it does a decent job of filtering it; up-marketing the flavors, bringing it closer to high-end stuff. Party on. Store some on your fridge door now.
Last night TCM tried to raise America's spirits with a late night showing of...Roller Boogie (1979). All I can say is...where has this been all my life? It's a two-hour paean to (Linda Blair in tiny clothes, the Dry Look and) the 70s dictum of Not Matte. SHINY AT ALL COSTS. Everything. Totally 
fabulous, down to the token homeboy rollerskater and the effeminate twirling, jumping roller-skating leading man. Tonight TCM's showing Hud, which I plan on watching if I'm around in a miasma of horny sadness. Errrrr.
Sexdrive = The Sure Thing?
This week was really kind of ass. Awakening yesterday to the sight of W trying to reassure, even as numbers fell around him like the dying embers of fireworks, made it feel just a little too much like 9/11. BAD WEEK.
Hilarious fact from most recent Cooks Illustrated: If you run cheap vodka through a Brita, it does a decent job of filtering it; up-marketing the flavors, bringing it closer to high-end stuff. Party on. Store some on your fridge door now.
Last night TCM tried to raise America's spirits with a late night showing of...Roller Boogie (1979). All I can say is...where has this been all my life? It's a two-hour paean to (Linda Blair in tiny clothes, the Dry Look and) the 70s dictum of Not Matte. SHINY AT ALL COSTS. Everything. Totally 
fabulous, down to the token homeboy rollerskater and the effeminate twirling, jumping roller-skating leading man. Tonight TCM's showing Hud, which I plan on watching if I'm around in a miasma of horny sadness. Errrrr.Sexdrive = The Sure Thing?
This week was really kind of ass. Awakening yesterday to the sight of W trying to reassure, even as numbers fell around him like the dying embers of fireworks, made it feel just a little too much like 9/11. BAD WEEK.
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