Yesterday I dropped the b.h. off at work, got breakfast at the bakery, and then came home and went back to sleep for several hours. And then when I got up I got on the couch again. I blame rain and Spain: on the Road Again.

Work is getting dumber by the day, mostly because of the "Socialist Dictator" remarks about the President that I have to endure on a daily basis. It's as if these fuckers have been asleep for the last eight years and are only now waking up to the fact that we're fucked. The toilet was flushed a long time ago, people. We've just been swirling toward the bottom the whole time.

Overheard at the health food store, from a mid-forties redneckish man:
"I don't know son. It's a Diva Cup."
And then louder:
"A Diva Cup!! I don't know what it's for!!"

It's the little things that keep me going.

So they still haven't caught the guy. Great. I can't even talk about the whole thing, really, because no diatribe is going to change anything. i know a lot of people who were present, and thankfully none of them have any serious physical wounds. But it really sucks that they are going to have to live with this shit for the rest of their lives. It's hard to even process and to avoid being corny and/or reactionary I'm just going to shut my pie hole.
In other news, I can't seem to get motivated to do much. Work is pissing me off for various reasons, and I am otherwise incredibly lazy. I have packed a few boxes and done some house cleaning, but I have been generally useless for the past week.
We ate lunch at the National on Tuesday, and I went to A's and had a couple glasses of wine and did some catching up that evening.
Next week is going to be ridiculously busy at work, so I'm hoping to put in a couple extra days in order to fund a trip to New Orleans. My buddy MT and I are talking about it, and it seems like it can be done fairly cheaply (especially if we have a third party, which we may). Luckily I know several people who have lived there, too, so I will have good recommendations for food and whatnot. I've never been to new Orleans and I don't know when I will have the chance to go again, so I hope it works out.
Okay, no more procrastinating. Must... Pack...

No words...

What a day.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/04/25/georgia.shootings/index.html

I decided to nap yesterday instead of getting the lawnmower fixed. It was a good decision, because we had a long night.
I picked the b.h. up from work and we went to El Sol for dinner (yes- again. What?!). Then we came home and he napped and I played with dogs and then we went down to the University to see Dan Savage speak. Savage is a personal hero, and what we refer to as a "Blog Friend", which means a person who you don't really know at all but whom you read so often you feel like you know them. I have been reading his column for fourteen years now, and his blog for a couple. He was as hilarious as I expected him to be, and afterward he went with us for a drink at Flicker. He was exhausted but completely gracious, and we talked for an hour or so and then J and the b.h. and I walked him back to his hotel before heading to the 40 Watt to see Dinosaur Jr. That was awesome. I haven't had a record of theirs for years and years, and was surprised at how many songs I recognized. The show was fantastic, and we all went home very tired but very happy at 2am.

I awoke this morning to THREE e-mails from our new landlord. This is the wife of the pair, and she asked for things that I had already sent her husband a couple (maybe even three) weeks ago. Now I'm worried that the dog breed thing is going to be an issue, when I thought it was long since resolved. Shit. Looked at the housing on Craigsl1st today. Not good. Crossing my fingers.
The past week has been busy and good. Went to lunch with MT last Monday. El Sol again. That is a place I will definitely miss. Spent time on Monday and Tuesday packing and cleaning. Tuesday night the b.h. and I went out with two of our friends J and J, for craft beer and fancy cheese. Yum. Worked Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Boring! Plus more packing. Then went to Jenn's birthday party on Saturday evening. That was fantastic. Saw many people I don't see enough of. Ate great food. Went home early and passed out. Woke in the middle of the night and stayed awake for too long. Slept in.
Woke up yesterday to no coffee, which is a less terrifying prospect for me than it is for the b.h. Went to the grocery straightaway, then returned home for more packing while he cooked dinner. We went to Stammtisch around six. It was fabulous and I realized that we had missed two weeks in a row which was far too much. The b.h. made oven fried onion rings breaded with saltine crackers and Spicy Thai Kettle Chips. Wow. We came home and watched Doubt, which was way more depressing than I expected. Good, but depressing.
So it was a very long week and pending the answer from the LL this week may be far worse. Balls.
Oh yeah- I backed into our fancy newish lawnmower and ripped off a wheel, too. Guess I ought to get that taken care of now.

Now I know why my manager doesn't like us listening to "Pandora's Box". He already hears voices in his head and this confuses him.
Must. Buy. More. Ammo.
Seriously. The gun nuts are buying up ammo like never before. A guy from the gun shop came in last night and informed us that he is "out of nine" for the first time ever.
"Do you still have forty-five?" inquired Two Gun Stan.
"Plenty."
Great. I can't wait to get out of here.

I have gotten tons of new house photos. It looks great. Of course, at this point it wouldn't take much, but it really does look promising. To celebrate, I am going to walk the dogs and eat a sandwich. Not necessarily in that order.
This week has been long and exhausting, and it isn't over yet. But that pinched nerve in my neck from the constant stress seems to have subsided. Waking up and being able to feel my hands today was comforting.
Now the task of packing. Sorting, throwing out five years of accumulated shite, cleaning... yeah. I guess we've only just begun.

Two notes about work last night. One, I went up to an older gentleman who was perusing the beer selection. I asked if he needed help finding anything. He answered, i gave him some advice, and he then turned and asked my male co worker the exact same question. Pfft. What would I know about beer, right? Just a girl an' all. Fucker.

There was a guy who came in and got a six pack and a pack of cigarettes. I don't know him, exactly, but he is a regular and I recognize him. So the phone rings a couple hours later and it's him. He has lost his wallet and wonders has anyone seen it? I know that it hasn't been found because I was the one who would have found it, but I ask around anyway. No luck.
"I know I had it there and that's the last place I used it and now i can't find it. Can I leave you my number in case?"
"But of course," I say, writing down his name and number. "Have you checked the space between your car seat and the door? I lose my phone there at least once a week."
"I checked the car but I didn't look there."
"I'll give you a call if we find it."

Two minutes later the phone rings again.

"Local Liquor Store, can I help you?"
"You're a genius."
"Have a nice evening."

I believe we have a house. In fact, though I have no signed lease, I am fairly certain that it is what one would call a Done Deal.
Holy crap finally oh my gods etcetera.
The woman who lives there now has been fantastic. She sent me a whole bunch of pictures and suggestions about where to find a job, etc. So now I am on to the collecting boxes/having a yard sale/purging our junk/starting to pack portion of this particular adventure. And it feels good.

I just got back from Savannah. Thought for a minute there I wasn't going to be able to go. Started feeling extra gross at work on Friday night, wound up coming straight home from work instead of going downtown to see the b.h. play. Hot shower, emergen-c packet, and piles of blankets. Slept and watched TV. Woke to pick up the b.h. around two, came home and passed out again, woke up feeling fine. I think the pollen just got to me.
Anyway, we got an early start, went down to Ike and Jane's for breakfast sandwiches and coffee and doughnuts. Drove straight through with only one stop, and went immediately to the club to check in. The band was an hour behind us due to a keys-locked-in-van incident. We headed over to the Sentient Bean for coffee and then to the SCAD shop. I love that place. Student art for sale, and some of it very good. Nothing I could afford that really struck my fancy, though. The band called when they got to the club and we headed back there.
Parking was a bit of a bitch. The club was on River Street, which is the mainest of main drags on the riverfront (thus the name), which was packed with people because of the absolutely lovely weather. Having already made that mistake once, the b.h. and I decided instead to park several blocks away and walk with both of his guitars and his suitcase o' pedals and such. No problem. Then we stood around for an eternity waiting for the other band to load out. We didn't really mind, though, because we were able to buy beer and stand out on the street drinking it. We did because we could, and because of the aforementioned incredible weather. After that was load in and soundcheck, which I managed to avoid most of by walking down the waterfront with R while the b.h. checked and leaving when the other band did.
The b.h. and D and I walked over to the Moon River Brewery and waited at the bar for the other guys. I had a Swamp Fox IPA. It was delicious.
We were seated in the main room, still waiting for the other guys to arrive from sound check. D had his back to the front door. Through the crowd I saw some frat boys and sorostitutes in Full Confederate Regalia, and they were making their way in our direction. When they passed our table, D looked up in disgust and said quite loudly "You guys are hilarious", in a tone indicating that he did not, in fact, find it hilarious.
I find the whole thing quite confusing myself. The fascination with a war that no one ever spoke of outside of history class where I come from. Technically those people were traitors, and since many if not all of those people claim to be patriots, I don't see why they feel the need to celebrate. Also, I can't imagine how the black people who were present (waiters and bartenders in this case) must feel at the sight of these people, but since I am not a real Southerner I more often than not feel like the best bet is to keep my mouth shut. As far as I am concerned, these people might as well be walking around in KKK robes or Nazi uniforms, but generally I am able to simply ignore it. Not so with D. He was obviously pissed (in both senses of the word, I now realized), and made it known. I was worried that we were only three and they appeared to be younger, more fit, and in greater numbers. Not that I am afraid of a broad in a hoopskirt, mind you, but the boys were definitely of the large and cornfed variety. Luckily the rest of the guys showed up just then, and we were distracted by food and fun.
I ordered onion rings and a dip-thingie made from cream cheese, sundried tomatoes, and roasted garlic to share with everybody, and leek and goat cheese cakes for myself. This is what I had last time we were here, and though I prefer to be more adventurous, there were not a lot of veggie options. I was very happy with all of my selections.
AT one point I stepped outside for a smoke break with R, again mostly because it was beautiful out and I could bring my beer along, and the first guy I saw was in a confederate uniform. I asked if I could take my picture with him, and could I please hold his sword? Then I found out that he was the Haunted Savannah Tour Guide.
"Oh, so you're not really a racist, you just get paid to wear that, huh?" I smirked. Holding the sword point to his throat was not near as fun.
Another fratty couple came up in uniform and I got a picture with them. It's one of those "the folks back home are never gonna believe this" things. By back home, of course, I mean Chicago. No one in Athens will have trouble believing.
We returned to the club stuffed to the gills and waited a short time for the bands to start playing. It was a fun show but a long one, and we were all ready to get to sleep when it was over.
Hilariously, River street was now blocked on one side with illegally parked cars, and on the other was a very long, seemingly immobile line of traffic. Two of the guys wound up walking back two blocks to get the van, then we waited while they sat in traffic, then we blocked traffic while all scrambling to get the gear in. The guys in the little SUV immediately behind the van seemed totally relaxed, watching us calmly through the windshield while thumping bass poured from their over-sized speakers. In fact, nobody honked or complained at all, which was odd but a relief. There was simply no other way for us to load out. No one from the club bothered to help us, despite there being at least two young and able-bodied men right next to the door and absolutely no business now that the bands had finished. I doubt they'll be going back there.
We spent all day Sunday walking around. The guys went home early, and the b.h. and I had the whole day to ourselves, knowing that our capable dog-sitter would be staying at least until two. We got breakfast at Clary's which I found mostly disappointing this time, and then coffee at the Sentient Bean (again), and walked through square after square all the way to the river from the far side of Forsyth Park. Then we walked down the river and turned back, this time walking a very different and less populated set of squares. We stopped in a lovely French decor shop, which D had mentioned the day before. I fell in love with a piece of art that was $1400. Of course. Champagne taste and a beer budget, as they say. I bought a greeting card and we continued on. The walk was fantastic, the weather perfect. We decided that were we to move to Savannah, this would be the neighborhood we would live in. I took a ton of pictures. There are so many tiny details on houses and gates there. It's like a treasure hunt in a way. I love (visiting) that place.
After we got back to the car we bought refills and pastries and started home.
The drive was uneventful, and when we returned we found treasure, in the form of school loan documents, waiting in the mailbox. Hoo-fucking-ray.

Iowa!

Gay marriage. Iowa. Hooray for Iowa. And sanity.
That is all.

Yesterday I spoke to what I hope will be my next landlord. He isn't sure that he and his wife are actually ready to rent the house again, but since they had only found out thirty-six hours prior that their current tenants are leaving, I was unruffled. I think I managed to be entirely agreeable in my eagerness, though, so we'll see. Part of the problem is that he has a list of dog breeds that his insurance company won't cover, and German Shepherd is on it.
"My dogs are each half Shepherd", I said. One is half corgi and less than a foot and a half tall, so I don't think it counts. The other looks like Benji, and I seriously doubt that your insurance man would peg him for a Shepherd."
Actually, I prefer the comparison to Nick Nolte's Mug Shot, first made by my good buddy Mic Harrison, but I wasn't sure the LL would find that as hilarious as I do.
I sent him these pictures for verification:







I think I've made a fairly convincing case, don't you?

After I sent the message I found another potential house on cr@igsl1st, which is nice. I sent a message to that person and then I called Shayne and went to her house so I would stop obsessively checking for responses every three minutes. I stayed there until it was time to go to work.
Work was very long. The weather is making me very sleepy, and I think it is keeping people at home, because we were not busy in the least.
Today I slept in gloriously late and have finally finished off enough coffee to function properly.
Two more days of work and then it's off to Savannah. I can't wait.

Work was long on Saturday. Twelve days in a row is too much, and by the end of it I was feeling fairly burnt and a bit surly. This makes me less than patient with customers, so I spent the last hour or so dodging as many as possible. Lynn was already there, so I wasn't leaving anybody guessing about wine. As soon as I was sprung, I went across the street to get dog food. After that I stopped in to see if a pair of shoes I had had my eye on was still waiting for me after nearly two weeks. they were. only one pair left and they were my size. Taking that as a sure sign from the shoe gods, I snatched them up and bought a pair of socks with giraffes on them as well. These are the kind of shoes that are supposed to be good for your back, and I have no brown shoes that I can wear for work, so it wasn't completely indulgent. After that I went home, fed the dogs, turned on the Jancis Robins0n wine DVD that had arrived from Netflix, and promptly passed out.
I went out on Saturday night with my friend MT. We had a couple beers at Flicker and then moved on to Tasty World. Only got to talk to Jared for a couple minutes, because he was working, but hung out with Murphy for quite some time and caught up. Good times. We went home before the witching hour, avoiding the chaos of bars emptying into the street. I slept like shit and so did the dogs, so we all spent the bulk of Sunday on the couch. I was in a foul mood and after speaking to my parents did not even bother to answer the phone. Eventually I got up enough energy to slip out and eat. I went to The Grit and had a large golden bowl with veggies and cheese and a bottle of root beer.
Things are looking brighter on the VT front. School called the b.h. on Saturday and said that we would know about money by mid-week. Not holding my breath but I am hopeful. Also there is a house I have been looking into and I am waiting for a call back from the landlord. Wish me luck.
If all goes as planned, I think I will be slipping off to Savannah on Saturday. "As planned" meaning that I get the day off on Saturday, find somebody to watch the dogs, and have enough money to make it happen. The b.h. and I could use a day off alone together I think. He has a show on Saturday night, but then we could poke around on Sunday. I can't imagine how lovely Savannah must be right now, with Spring springing and all.

I feel like I've been had. Smuttynose makes great beer. I have had several, and I liked all of them. So when we got a new shipment that included Hanami Ale, I was interested. The label says it's made with cherries. Well, Kasteel Rouge is made with cherries, and I like that. In fact. I haven't had a kriek beer that I don't like (yet), so I split a six-pack with two of my co-workers (I'm broke and it was late, so i thought two beers would be plenty). When I got home I opened it straight away, not even bothering with food or shoe removal or anything.
The thing is, it's a great beer, but I hate it. It is a sour, and the word sour was nowhere on the label. Crap. So after a few more attempts, I wound up pouring the whole thing down the drain. I was pretty sure I could hear ancestors turning in their graves while I did it. Then I popped open a bottle of Sierra Nevada, made myself a sandwich, and checked e-mail before bed. Still no money, still no job, but a bright spot on the housing horizon. Fingers crossed.

I should be going to Atlanta today to a big wine show/tasting thing at the High Museum, but for various reasons I can't. I'll not dwell on that for the moment.

Woke up to dogs barking madly and a quick good-bye kiss from the b.h. He's off to rock and stuff, and won't be home again until Sunday night. I'll not dwell on that, either.

It is and has been pissing down rain, which is great for the plants (and the water table) and lousy for my mood. I got up and drank the last cup of coffee and finished watching Bright Lights, Big City, and then checked all places on the computer to see if we have a loan/house/job yet. Nothing.

Last night was busy but mostly uneventful at work. Got to taste about eight wines within the first hour, which made the rest of the shift go a lot more smoothly. One of our reps was in and asked if I would be attending the High Museum thing today, and when I said I wouldn't be able to, he said he'd try to snag me something good. Which is unnecessary but appreciated. I'm thinking about going in earlier than I'm supposed to just so I can get the hell out of there tonight. If I get paid I am definitely going down to see The Heap at the GA Theater, but since I have less than no money (there were some banking errors this week) it all depends.

Trying to figure out a way to get to Savannah next Saturday. The b.h. has a show but he will have to leave before I am done with work in order to be there for soundcheck. If anybody's game let me know. This is definitely my last chance to get there before we leave town.

So yeah- that about sums it up. Now I'm going to make another pot of coffee and pace until the mailman gets here.

Customer of the Night#5410: The Prioritizer.

"I love that (Random Napa Cab), but it's sixty bucks. That's like a gram and a half."

It's funny how differently people talk to me at work depending on how I am dressed. I got called in on my day off again, and we're still broke, so I agreed to work. I was wearing an Okkervil t-shirt with a weird and somewhat scary drawing on it and a pair of jeans, rather than my usual button-down shirt ensemble. The guy told me it was his birthday and that he was looking for a nice bottle of red wine. We wandered over to the proper area and he stood gazing at the upper shelves, declaring his love for several of the pricier bottles. But one does have priorities, especially on one's birthday, I suppose, so he got himself a twenty dollar Chilean instead (and presumably made straight for the G@ bar afterward).

We went down to the Watt on Monday night for Garbage Island (featuring their newest member, Patterson Hood). It was nice to be out but I really am a morning person now so we didn't stay late. I do love to watch Craig play, though.

Still waiting on loan info. Still going crazy.

Customer Of The Night #8723: Nauseating Redneck.

The Punisher was not great. It wasn't terrible, but I really cannot recommend it. Which is a shame, because i adore both Ray Stevenson and Dominic West. A lot of people said this movie was really gory, but the way they did it- all quick cuts and choppy editing- it wasn't really that disturbing. Frankly, the Standard Nutjob Guy just wasn't scary. And the script was kind of... meh. So yeah. I don't recommend it.
I do, however, recommend Coney Island's Human Blockhead, the hoppiest lager I believe I have ever tasted. I would never have purchased it (I am not a lager lady), but a co-worker had one and allowed me a sip and I was sold.

On Sunday I had a wine tasting at Harry Bisset's. Eight wines, all white, and about half of them were perfectly drinkable (to me), but they still don't really float my boat the way a good red does. I had to work, but since several friends were there celebrating a birthday I got to wait on them and it was a pretty good time. When I got home the b.h. had finished making manicotti for our dinner party and, as an added bonus, had also made homemade granola bars a la Alt0n Br0wn. Fabulous. I changed clothes and packed up a bottle of Cotes du Rhone and we headed for Casa Del D & S.
Dinner was wonderful, and again the conversation was very animated- we went from the cycle of life and death to goat testicles and back again. I am starting to wish that I could conceal a tape recorder under the table for later use in a screenplay.

Monday I ran some errands, paid some bills, and walked the dogs. I got called in to work because my manager injured himself in a skate-boarding accident and they needed a cash-register monkey and I need money so it worked out well for everyone.

Early on in the evening, while the day crew was still there, J and I found ourselves together behind the counter when a very sketchy, very drunk guy came in asking the price of a half pint of shitty whiskey. I told him. He asked the price of the full pint. I told him. He fumbled through his pockets, counting out three dollar bills and then a large-ish pile of change. He was fragrant. J was waiting on him, but I was standing several feet away in an attempt to provide moral support and an out if the guy got too chatty.
"You take this? How much is this worth?", he cackled, placing a large chunk of gods only know what on the counter. We ignored him and waited while he dug for more change. He was a few cents short, and in my desperation to stop smelling him I told him we'd manage.
He picked up the chunk again, asking
"How much'll you give me for this?" and handing it to J, who put his hand out.
"What is it?" asked J.
"It's a tooth." Jay jerked his hand away like he had touched a hot stove, fortunately missing the dropped tooth.
"Where'd you get it?"
"It's mine. It came from right here." I turned my back, gagging a little and making myself busy looking for nothing in particular as the guy pulled his cheek open with his filthy fingers to show J a gaping hole in his mouth.

Fucking thing wasn't even gold. What a cheapskate.

Jeebus I am boring. Still nothing to report. Yesterday I did a bunch of housework and walked the dogs a couple times and then went to work and came home and slept and got up and there was no coffee and then went straight back to work.
We're about to watch The Punisher and tomorrow I have some activities planned so hopefully the next post will be more interesting.
Still no word on loan $$ and no house. Been blasting Okkervil River and trying not to worry.

This week has been forever already. Crap.
Tuesday the b.h. and I took the dogs and ran some errands and then drove to Hard Labor State park for some hiking. I have no idea how the park got it's name. It is beautiful, though. And driving there takes you through some insanely wealthy rural areas. Very neat. I took some pictures, but they don't really do any justice of course. Ah well. Spring is springing, and the rolling green hills and quiet two lane highways were exactly what the doctor ordered. that and two fairly strenous miles of hiking in the woods. We all slept like babies that night.











Anyway, Wednesday and today were kind of blurry. Some food-related teevee courtesy of Alton Brown, Anthony Bourdain, and America's Test kitchen, and a few pastries thrown in (back to the new bakery today- pound cake was meh, but the banana fritter totally rocked my world and the coffee kicks ass), but mostly a lot of work. Boring! Not even a good customer story.

Sonovabitch.

I just found out that we lost a chance at the perfect rental house because the woman's repeated e-mails were trapped by my motherfucking spam filter. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!!!!!!! I am through with yahoo.

I was about five minutes late to the work meeting yesterday. Unfortunately that left me nearly two hours of meeting to sit through. I am not known for hiding my feelings well ("subtlety, thy name is heybartender" is a favorite and fitting quote from a good friend), and I must have been in rare from yesterday because one of my coworkers came up to me straight after and laughed a bit, asking if I was okay and remarking about the look on my face.
I actually got some sleep on Saturday night, so at least I didn't snap. I'm not going to be here much longer, but I do need a job until I leave.
Thew b.h. made a fantastic tortilla soup for our weekly dinner party. When we got there we found that our host was alone, having sent his lady on the road to S0uth by S0uthwest. I am insanely jealous, but I couldn't afford to go even if I were able to take time off from work.
Anyway, some other folks brought salad and pastries, D made two kinds of soup, and I brought a bottle of The Lackey Shiraz and a six pack of Sierra Nevada. Dinner was hilarious. The group was particularly lively this week, with one guest regaling us with stories from her job, which were eerily similar to The Office, but unique to her industry. Her boss is Ricky Gervais' Arkansian counterpart, and apparently he is moving his family here. I told J that she simply must start a blog. At very least it would chronicle the downfall of her company for all of the people who are going to ask "what happened?" when it's all over. At most, I think it would garner a serious following and could lead to a book deal. The guy is seriously deranged. It's awesome.
We didn't stay late, because the b.h. is still not sleeping properly and was exhausted, so we came home and watched Feasting on Asphalt. I had half of a blackout stout left in the fridge, so I poured it over some Breyer's coffee ice cream. I got three solid hour of sleep thanks to that.
I'm well into The Fortress of Solitude and really enjoying it. Still plugging away at Party Out Of Bounds, and immersed in both beer and wine books. My French lessons podcast is coming along slowly but surely, and I'm nearly finished with a two months old copy of The Believer. The new one is still in plastic on the coffee table. So business as usual, I guess.

I got some sleep last night, but it was restless, and since I went to bed just out of the shower the result was that I awoke this morning with even darker circles under my eyes and hair that would not lie down. I didn't have time to shower again before work, so I showed up looking like Dennis Leary in Rescue Me. The first season- you know, pre AA, post-bender (and fistfight). Yeah. Not pretty.
I went to the new bakery this morning and got an egg and cheese biscuit, which was awesome, and a doughnut that wasn't. Got to work a few minutes early. Mostly a smooth and fairly busy day. Which doesn't make for interesting blogging, but I promise that if I don't get any sleep tonight I will blather derangedly in the next post. Hell, I might do that anyway.
Going to pour a Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout ("blackout stout" to my co-workers) and hope for the best.
Adios, amigos.

Linky Linky

Andrew Sull1van is on fir with the links today. Check it:

http://www.losanjealous.com/nfc/

http://presurfer.blogspot.com/2009/03/sturgeon-face.html

This one is my favorite:

http://blotundeisen.blogspot.com/2009/03/test-subject-9-michael-ix-williams.html

One and a half beers down. Crossing my fingers for sleep.

So I guess I'll Just Sleep When I'm Dead.

Yep, I am still awake. I mean, I have slept a few hours, but not near as many as I should have. Last night was another slow one at work, and I would say roughly half of the customers I did have were crazy in one way or another.
There was the "I don't buy French wine" guy, who I believe was a car salesman. They are not known for their good taste, so I felt no urge to correct him). He was wearing sunglasses and never took them off throughout our entire exchange, though our entire exchange was conducted indoors. He was also wearing an incredibly gaudy gold ring, a Bee ehM dubbleeWe polo shirt(he had one parked in our lot), had a really bad mustache. He wanted "a good red" for under ten dollars, shot down virtually every suggestion I had, and answered any questions I asked (trying to narrow down what he wanted) in a hilariously egotistical manner. I gave up and walked away from him, and careened straight into a very diminutive man in his sixties who asked a million questions and hated everything I suggested to him. He kept talking about points, and Parker, and he had an eyePhone so he G00gle searched everything anyway. I don't mind people asking a lot of questions and wanting to be informed, but if our palates are so obviously different, why keep asking me what I think? And really, how does one answer the question
"Is this really worth fifty dollars?", armed with the knowledge that this annoying little man is going to come back in two weeks? Obviously he was setting a trap for me, and I had no intention of springing it.

I also had a very long exchange with the Nice Guy's wife. She was trying to decide what to get for NGs birthday celebration, and she seemed very wound up about getting it just right. I had stepped out front for a moment with my Regular Russian Customer, a youngish woman who has a very nice boyfriend and no friends in this town at all. She is very likable and though we have very little in common I think we might be friends if I were not about to leave town. Ah well. Anyway, when I came back, Adam was standing in the wine department with NG's wife. He had a pained expression on his ace and had removed his glasses, rubbing the place where they had rested on his nose. When he saw me he immediately brightened up, and then as soon as I got within a few feet of them he was off, blathering niceties over his shoulder and practically running back to the cash register.
She is a very nice woman, but she is obviously very concerned about getting this thing just right, which makes for a lot of indecision and more hand holding than I ever have to do with her husband. It was a long process, but thirty minutes later I finally had her out the door with a case of wine for the party and a bottle of rose' to go home and drink immediately.
At the end of the night, Stan and Adam and I chilled a Smuttynose Russian Imperial Stout while we ran through the store as quickly as possible, straightening and stocking and shutting things down. That took about three minutes, which was as much time as the beer needed. It was chilled to perfection. Stan divided it evenly between three glasses, and we all made the same face as we brought it to our noses. It smells awesome. And it tastes even better. It is hoppy, and malty, and creamy, and were I not so fucking exhausted I would have happily stayed for another. Three thumbs way up.
When I got home I sent the b.h. to bed. I grabbed a quick shower and finished the tofu curry, stupidly not opening another beer to go with it. I started watching an episode of Unc0rked, but Kilgor wouldn't stop whining so I shut it off and went to bed.
The wind was pretty nasty, loud enough that neither Kilgore nor I could quite relax, so I turned on the fan for some white noise. This had the effect of knocking him directly out, and I was awake for another hour, after which I slept fitfully and awoke feeling like shit. So here I am. The good news is that I finally uploaded some pictures I've been meaning to show you.

This is my new favorite coffee mug, courtesy of K. It looks just like the paper cups you see smashed in the street all over New York.



This is the hawk that I am fairly certain is nesting somewhere in the yard. She has been quite vocal recently. This picture was taken from here at the computer desk in the office.



This is the first icicle we ever grew in Georgia. Not the sheet of snow that is hanging precariously from our tin roof. We could hear that thing moving, very incrementally for a couple days after the snow. It crashed to the ground while we were out getting groceries.





Here's the long shot of said sheet, just before it fell:

I've been having a hell of a time sleeping lately. Weird, violent dreams, extreme temperature changes, and of course my old friend the moon have all conspired to keep me awake, no matter how tired I am or how many beers I have to help me along.

I went out the other night with my friend J. We had a lovely cheese plate and some very tasty beer, and were later joined by our other friend J, whom we never see because his job keeps him on the road most of the time. Sam had just returned from England and was going to join us but didn't. The weather was unusually warm, and I was very glad to be out. As I said, it didn't help me sleep at all, but I had a nice time.

Work has been unbearably slow. I continue to hope that no one gets laid off and my departure allows for everybody to have enough hours. I still have no departure date, but when it happens it is going to happen fast. Can't imagine how I'm going to find a job when we move, but we'll see.

Oddly enough, I have managed (so far) to have a good attitude despite all the weirdness. The moon is officially on the wane now, so hopefully I will sleep tonight. Wish me luck.

So schtamtisch (still don't know how to spell it) was Indian food on Sunday. It was also sparsely attended, so the b.h. and I have plenty of leftovers, which is fabulous. I was not very impressed by the wine I brought. Serves me right for picking it for the label. It was Gewurztraminer, which I normally love, but it was from Washington or Oregon or some nonsense. I should have stuck with Alsace. Anyway, D really liked the bottle, and that's who I chose it for, so it wasn't a total loss.
We also had some Lagunitas India Pale Ale, which was hoppy and floral and yummy and a perfect accompaniment to the food. The b.h. and D slaved in the kitchen for hours while S and I flipped through catalogs and watched birds in their yard. The weather was remarkably warm, and we ate on their screened-in porch. A stopped by on his way out of town, grabbed a bite to eat and poured us all a taste of homemade apple brandy he had gotten from a friend. It tasted exactly like you think it would: like an apple soaked in lighter fluid. I took a sip and poured the rest into D's glass. The b.h. did the same.
We got home early and the b.h. passed out on the couch (all that slaving in the kitchen wears a man out), so I poked around on the internets and re-ordered our netflix queue and generally fucked off until I was finally tired as well.
I awoke yesterday to a panicked shout from the kitchen. Kilgore decided to bolt, and the b.h. was scrambling to get some shoes on to go after him. I ran downstairs and threw on some pants and shoes and mismatched socks and jumped into the car. We had no idea which way he had gone, so the b.h. continued to walk while I drove several of our usual walking routes. Had he been in any of the wooded areas I never would have seen him, since his coat would blend right in with the dirt and dead leaves.
Fortunately, Kilgore found whatever it was that he had caught the scent of, and began screaming in the woods behind the house (he had apparently circled around, so we were looking in the wrong direction), and the b.h. came running and found him shrieking and bleeding from his hind foot, and yet looking quite pleased with himself. He must have caught whatever it was, and found that it didn't want to play with him. He was fine but for a couple small bite marks, and as I said, he looked pretty happy.
I dropped the b.h. at work and came back home to do a few things around the house. I swapped a couple e-mails with my buddy MT, and we agreed to meet around noon and hang out. We went to a sandwich shop, then headed over to the giant corporate book store, where they were having a fire sale on CDs and DVDs. MT bought himself a couple, and I got a copy of Joe Strummer's posthumous release with the Mescaleros, which is called Streetcore, and which I am listening to right now. It's lovely.
I also put aside a copy of Season 3 of Anthony Bourdain's show No Reservations, just in case we came up with the money and the b.h. wanted it.
MT and I went over to Big City Bread and had some iced tea and cookies and talked about stuff for awhile. We saw my friend John and his dad, we soaked up some sun and watched some dogs, and eventually wandered back here to sit on the deck.
Eventually the b.h. called needing a ride, and MT had to go to the grocery, so we parted ways.
When the b.h. and I got back to the house, we found in the mail two surprise checks from our cell phone company. Last year when we got our new phones we had put down a deposit on each of them, and since a year is up we got our deposits back. Very exciting. So the b.h. decided that he did indeed want that Anthony Bourdain CD set. We went back to the Giant Corporate Bookstore and got that and two movies for his dad, whose birthday is next week. Excellent. I briefly eyed a copy of The Tick vs. Season Two, but couldn't make myself want it enough to spend the money.
Last night we ate leftovers and watched Milk, which we enjoyed immensely, and a couple episodes of No Reservations, and went to bed fairly early.
Today I woke with considerable less adrenaline than I did yesterday. I got a cup of coffee in the mug that K brought me from NYC, which I love and I need to post photos of), and wandered onto the back deck. There were some very small deer in the woods about thirty yards away, and KG almost ran off yet again, but the b.h. got a hand on him and all was well. There were several deer back there, and they didn't seem bothered by us at all. Nor did the hawk, which I still think is nested somewhere very close to the house, and which was screeching and flapping about around the pond. Our friend the Great Blue Heron ("Big Bird" to us) is also back, and between them and the deer and the turtles and the kingfisher, I remarked to the b.h. that our yard was "like wild fucking kingdom."
I do love the Spring.

Customer(s) of the Night #9123: The Good, The Dumb, and The Perplexing.

Nice Guy came back on Saturday and bought me that bottle of Shiraz. I tried to beg off, but he wasn't hearing it and so I gave in and now I have a great bottle of wine to share with my friends at Samtisch (not sure about that spelling, but it's what we call the weekly dinner gathering. German word for sandwich, I think). This week we're having Indian food, so I'm bringing Gewurztraminer and India Pale Ales, but hopefully next week we'll have Shirazable food.
Another customer asked me "Do you have mixed drinks?" I paused, confused, then asked if she meant the pre-mixed ("mall-ternatives" we call them at the LLS), bottled rum/vodka/swill beverages that are usually pink and always awful.
"No, like mixed drinks. Do you make those here?"
"Uh, that'd be a no." You know, because we're a liquor store, and not a fucking bar. WTF? Very confusing.

What was perplexing was a customer who came in very early in the morning, bought a plastic pint of our cheapest gin and a pack of our cheapest cigarettes, and them wished us good day and left. I was barely paying attention, as I was not waiting on this customer, but when the door closed behind said customer and nobody else was in the store, my co-worker Adam asked if i would please run to the back and grab him some eye bleach.
I looked up from the computer, where I had been researching a particular dessert wine.
"Hmmm?"
"Bleach. For my eyes. So that I might try to burn out that image," he said, louder this time, gesturing toward the retreating figure in the parking lot. It was unclear what the sex of this person was, but once I actually looked at him/her, he/she looked like the sort of person that I should have been able to smell from a distance. After a prolonged analysis, we decided that it was a woman, albeit a very masculine woman with a voice deep enough (probably from those cheap smokes) to confuse anyone who was not paying careful attention. Her baseball cap barely covered her bemulleted head, and I was impressed by her ability to light a cigarette with matches while walking into the wind toward the bus stop. She stuck the rest of the pack into a fannypack that rested on her right hip. This was not the only fannypack that I saw this weekend. Do I smell a comeback? If so, can we rename them so that they sound as funny to us as they sound to the British? cootersack, perhaps? Or maybe vagibag? Anyone?

Customer of the Night #26408: For Once a Nice Guy.

He shops here all the time. I know him well, I know what he drinks and what his wife drinks (although I have never met her). I know that his stocks are not doing well and that he is learning to drink inexpensive wine like the rest of us plebs. He is several years younger than I am, and good friends with Sam, who is one of my favorite people (and arguably the best boss I have ever had).
So we walk the Cabs and Merlots. We talk about Malbec and the merits of Chile and Argentina, and eventually he just starts looking longingly at the upper shelves again. He has a great French Syrah in hand, one of my favorites which he has had before and likes very much, but he can't help wistfully caressing a bottle of sixty dollar Shiraz.

"You do realize that I am having a difficult time feeling sorry for you, right?" I smirk at him.
"Yeah, I know. But have you had this?"
"I have. Not at my house, of course, but at a tasting. It is phenomenal. But that stuff in your other hand probably won't kill you, either. Now buck up."
"When I have money again, I'm going to buy you a bottle of this, just for being you."
It's not every day that somebody expresses a desire to do something nice for me in response to my sarcasm. Here's hoping the DOW will rise again.

We Grew An Icicle!

It's true. I blame myself for this weather, because at work on Saturday I kept talking shit about how I would believe the weatherman when I actually saw snow. I have lived here for almost nine years and had yet to see any stick for more than an hour or two. Well, I stand corrected.

I took this picture because I thought that this is what we would get. This is what it usually looks like when it snows in Athens.



Then a bit later, I took this:



Now it was actually, you know, sticking. A little.




We forgot to get firewood on the way home Saturday night, and since there was a good chance we would lose power (and therefore heat) in the storm, I ventured out to get some in the middle of the shit hitting the fan on Saturday afternoon. After nearly getting stuck in the driveway, I slid all the way to the main road, where I found a broken traffic signal and a lot of very confused drivers. At this point I called the b.h. and told him to call his folks and tell them we were not going to make it for dinner.
It took me forty minutes to get to the grocery store and back. I got the last two bundles of firewood though, which was convenient. People were freaking out. the poor kids that had to round up the shopping carts at the grocery store were really pissed.




Since it never snows here, there are no plows and no salt trucks. The snow was so deep that the bottom of our car was scraping along in it the whole way home. Trees were bending and snapping all over the place. It was ugly.







Luckily we only lost power for about fifteen minutes. The b.h. and I took the dogs into the yard to play, then spent most of the evening playing Trivial Pursuit and Scrabble. He went into work several hours late yesterday, and I drove around town taking pictures. Everything is really pretty blanketed in snow, except for the hundred-plus year old trees that had broken or been completely uprooted.
The snow is still on the ground today, and we have grown an icicle off of one side of our tin roof, but I am too lazy (and warm) to get out and photograph it right now. In fact, I think I'm going to join the dogs on the couch.

Work, Rock, Work, Rock, Work, Rock: A Caledonia Weekend.

Went to work on Thursday, got done around midnight, and made straight for the Harvey Milk show. I had never seen them before, and I knew that they were a good loud rock band and everything, but I did not realize that they were metal. There were a lot of people at the club,more dudes in giant beards than I had counted on, but the more the merrier, in my mind. They were out of my beer, which was disappointing, but I survived. K was there. We smoked and talked outside (K is the devil on my shoulder, and since I knew I would be spending the weekend going out with her I invested in a seven dollar pack of Nat Sherman Lights, on account of their naturalness and whatnot) for a bit, then headed in when the band started. I got claustrophobic fairly quickly and retreated to the patio, where a group of us ladies wound up at a picnic table, smoking and drinking and talking shit, while still being able to watch the band through the door. It was loads of fun.
I was talking with the Queen B when a very young and very drunk guy stumbled up and sat down at a nearby table. She was in the middle of telling a story, and she said "Oh my God!!" a couple times, very loudly. He interjected, awkwardly mumbling something that neither of us could hear at first, then more loudly, and of course he had nothing to say. He had misheard her or misinterpreted or whatever, but he wouldn't let it go. She tried to be polite at first, but he wouldn't bugger off, so eventually we just ignored him. After a few minutes he gave up on B and started to babble at A, another girl at the table. At this point, A guy friend of ours walked up and sat down and the drunk guy fell silent. When he eventually went inside, I turned to J:
"Boy, I wish K had been sitting here. She would have just looked him straight in the eye and told him to fuck off, and I just don't have the balls to do that."
"I thought you knew that guy."
"Nope. Random drunk stranger."
"Ugh."

Just as our conversations had all resumed, the guy comes back.
"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" Of course he has to ask me.
Long pause.
"I guess not."
He sits down.
"You seem kind of bitter-"
"You can sit here as long as you don't talk to me."

There was a brief exchange, during which i tried to explain that we were all there together and having a sort of girls night thing, and that none of us were single (lies!), and that there were plenty of other places to sit. He of course responded by telling me how he had brought his friend here just to see this show and how he didn't live here and how Athens was supposed to be so cool and that people were not, in fact, very friendly. Then he did finally fuck off.
I really hate when people try to put me in that situation. Stupid, drunk, twunt. Do I look like a fucking ambassador? This isn't the U.N. asshole. It's a fucking metal show. Sheesh.
Work was painful on Friday, since I slept like shit and barely at all. There was not enough coffee on the planet that morning. After work I went out to eat with K and her friend A at the grit. I had something called a Caribbean Feast, featuring jerked tofu and plantains and some kind of tomato-ey soup. It was fantastic. Afterward K and I went back to the Caledonia to see Magic Missile. They sing songs about the periodic table. I love them. When they finished playing K and I ran over to see if Dave was at the Manhattan. He wasn't. That was probably for the best, since I then headed home and went to sleep instead of having another beer.
I didn't have to work until ten on Saturday morning, so I was slightly more refreshed. Work was long and dull, and when I got home I took the boys for a walk and waited for the b.h. to get home.
He arrived about an hour and a half after I did, while I was in the middle of Bottle Shock, which I enjoyed immensely. I'm glad I got it through Netflix, because had I read the box at the video store I would have avoided it like the Plague. "The next Sideways or little Miss Sunshine" is not in any way how I would describe this movie. In fact, I am, as the b.h. put it, a little tired of 'The Little Movie That Could'. I was disappointed that Bradley Whitford's role was not bigger, but other than that I thought it was pretty cool. We ate a quick meal of TVP ("chicken" nuggets) and then went downtown.
Ham 1 had a great set. It was their record release, and they had actually pressed vinyl copies, which I love, but I was too broke to buy one. Goat played the best set I've seen them play in ages. Good times were had by all. I geeked out about beer for awhile with my friend B, and have added a couple more to the list of things I need to try.

The b.h. got off to a late start on his tour, due to illnesses and canceled dates in the DBT clan. This resulted in us having two days off together (three if you count Sunday), which was great. Unfortunately, we have absolutely no cash and the weather was crap, so we couldn't just pack the boys in the car and drive up to the mountains, as we are wont to do under better circumstances.
Instead we built fires and read books and ate chili and cornbread and watched movies.
He had never seen Nine to Five, which is on my list of reasons why I remember the seventies fondly. If you haven't seen it recently, you absolutely must. Lily Tomlin has always been a favorite of mine, and of course I love Dolly Parton, but I forgot how effing FUNNY she is.
Also re-watched Sideways. You know, I did like that the first time around, but I think the problem was that the hype was so big that I couldn't help but be at least slightly let down. Virginia Madsen is fabulous and beautiful and underrated and underutilized. Somebody please fix that (looking at you, AJ). Anyway, I have spoken before of this movie and it's effect on the wine industry, which is incredibly frustrating. Having seen it again, I still can't figure it out. The guy is a JACKASS. That's the point. And yet his dismissal of "Fucking Merlot!" has changed the entire wine industry. Bizarre.
There is a very small lizard (anole?) that has been living in our house all winter. He pops up occasionally in a house plant or on a windowsill, and I have rescued him a couple times from the kitchen floor, where he was in danger of being trampled by spastic dogs. Last night he sat on my hand while I watched TV. He is too small to photograph properly, but so cute. After an hour or so he got up and scrambled up the wall of the fireplace and disappeared. Unlike the rodents, I find his presence comforting somehow.
Speaking of rodents, I have neither seen nor heard anything since we put the poison under the house. Cross your fingers. I hated to do it, but they are just too destructive and had gotten smart about avoiding the trap.
Still haven't seen K, but I heard from her yesterday and we have plans for tomorrow. I worked last night and I work tonight and then I'll get paid (Hooray for pay!) and then I'll work tomorrow morning and then I will be free and flush at the same time, which might be dangerous. Planning on seeing my friend MT play at the Farm, and I suspect we might wander in to the Manhattan at some point. You've been warned.

Last night we went to the weekly dinner party at Casa Del D & S. This was the Oscar version, complete with a baby in a gold suit portraying Oscar, with whom we each had a photo taken. Everybody dressed up, because why not, and people brought food that was in some way movie-related. These were all put on display and a contest was had to see who could guess which movie each dish was from. The b.h. won. I had no idea what most of them were about, and was particularly puzzled by a pair of oddly shaped mashed potato mounds, which turned out to be replicas of something(s) from Close Encounters, which I have never seen and am not terribly interested in. The b.h. made cannoli, which was delicious. Actually, I can honestly say (for once) that we made something, because - "Bizarro!" - I helped. I had an idea to bring bottles of both Pinot Noir and (fucking) Merlot, but I forgot until it was too late and since you can't purchase alcohol on Sundays, well, Cotes du Rhone had to suffice. I am expecting Sideways in the mail this week, and although I was not terribly fond of it the first time around, I am looking forward to watching it with fresh (and slightly more wine-educated) eyes.
So yeah, the party was nice, and the Oscars were less boring than usual, which was pleasant. I can still only manage to watch them as background noise for the most part. I have not seen most of the movies that were up for awards this year, because the b.h. and I don't tend to go out to the movies much, except when there's a new superhero or James Bond flick out. Most things I prefer to watch at home, where I am not subjected to other people and don't have to miss anything when I run to the bathroom.
Got to see my friend K again on Saturday. We went out to brunch at The National. He was still a bit green around the edges from Friday night, but after half a Bloody Mary and a few cups of coffee he was back to his old self and we had some fantastic food and got to catch up a bit. It was an unusually warm day (at least for this week it was unusual), so we went over to the square after we ate and sat chatting and avoiding the crazy people for a couple of hours. I dropped him back at his hotel, wishing him a safe journey back to Iraq and promising I'd see him one way or another when he was stateside again in July. Then I picked up the b.h. from work and headed off to the LLS.
Work was uneventful. I still don't know my schedule for the week, because we are cutting back on hours (payroll, not hours of operation) and our manager is having difficulty figuring out how to dole out hours. Sigh.
Anyway, any time I have off this week will be spent attempting to catch up with my other friend K, who is in town this week from New York.
Right. So off to assist the b.h. with our leaky shower. Happy Monday.

Customer of the Night #4216: The Ugly 'Merkin.

So I'm at work last night and this lady comes in. I'm helping another customer, and we are very obviously in the middle of a conversation about his needs. This woman comes up behind the guy I'm helping, on the other side of a row of wine, but only a couple feet away, and says very loudly
"Aw, dammit!"
I pause momentarily, and then continue on our tour of Spanish wine. Another moment later, another outburst, this time a sigh of mixed disappointment and outrage. I smile at the man I am speaking to and then pointedly turn to the woman and say

"I'm sorry, is there something I can help you find?"

She looks up, feigning surprise that I had somehow overheard her.

"Yes, do you have any more of these in the cooler?" She waves aloft a bottle of Riesling.
I glance toward the cooler, which is equidistant from us, maybe fifteen feet away. The bottle that she is referring to has bright pink flowers on the label and a bright pink metal cap. There are several bottles of it virtually shouting at us from the cooler.
"There are at least three that I can see from here."
"Well good, because you only have two over here."
"How many will you be needing?"
"I want three."
I retrieve one from the cooler, thanking the man I had been helping and plastering on a smile I reserve for PEOPLE WHO SUCK.
"Here you go. What else can I help you with?"
"I need another Riesling."
"Any particular Riesling?
"It's... (*sigh)... I can't remember... It's in a blue bottle. It's made my Sell-bick."

By this I know that she means Selbach, and because I try very hard not to be an asshole (out loud in front of customers when I am at work, anyway), I chose to ignore her mispronunciation, and instead started to answer her.
"We have some of their wines, but we don't have any in a blue bottle." I walk around the side of the wine rack, pointing out the ones that we do have.

"It's SELL-BICK," she says, more loudly, as if this will magically make the wine she wants appear.
"Yes, I heard you. We have several of their wines, but not in a blue bottle."
"The only place that has it is a little- well, I don't mean to be ugly, but it's owned by a foreigner, and I just don't- I prefer to buy from Americans."

There was a short pause, long enough for me to think twice about telling her to go fuck herself, and just long enough for her to realize that she was talking to the wrong 'Merkin.
"Well, we don't have that," I said, and turned very literally on my heel and walked away from her. I approached the next customer, smiling, and gave him help he neither needed nor asked for, just so I didn't have to look at her again.

My bosses were not born here. They came here and opened a store and raised their kids in the back and worked their asses off and memorized the Constitution and learned the language and became citizens and paid taxes and bought a house and cars and became part of a community. They have been here over twenty years. They are successful. They are good people and fantastic employers. What the fuck does it mean to be American? Who isn't a foreigner? How many generations does it take?

I only wish I had been quick enough to start belting out the lyrics to "Hot Blooded", or jump up and down going "Holy shit!! Lou Gramm has a liquor store in Athens?! Where?!" Ah well. Next time. There's sure to be a next time.
On a similar note,this is pretty damned awesome.
Also, a scoop of Breyer's Vanilla Bean ice cream is especially good in a Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout. Seriously.

Tuesday I got my hair done. I went late and Shayne was off the clock, so I brought Prosecco and Elderflower Liquer, which we mixed and drank while we were gossiping and waiting for my hair to change color. She is going to New York in a couple months, and we were swapping stories about our previous trips (she goes a couple times a year for work, which makes me incredibly jealous). I am longing to go with her next time. It is highly unlikely.
Anyway, that finished I went and shopped for a bit, then went over and had a beer and talked politics with a friend while I waited for the b.h. to get through with band practice.
Wednesday I ran errands and got called in to help out at work for a bit. My phone rang around three o'clock and it was my nephew. He was in Tennessee with two of his friends, en route to Florida, and they had a few hours to kill and would it be okay if they stopped by? Of course!
I went home, straightened up a bit (and I really mean a bit- they're 21 and male and could care less, after all), then I dropped the b.h. at band practice and met my friends at Happy Hour. K is in from Iraq for a few days. I was happy to see him. He looks great. He is here for a few days, so I'm hoping to catch up with him again for breakfast on Saturday. There were a lot of people there, so we didn't get a lot of real talking in, but I was amazed at how relieved I was to actually see him. I guess I hadn't realized how much I worry until I stopped worrying for a minute.
Anyway, my nephew called and I went to meet him at my house. They all three showered, then we went back downtown. My friends had mostly left from their happy hour (not a total surprise since it was ten p.m. on a Wednesday), so we had a quick beer with Casey and Joanie and then met the b.h. over at Flicker.
My nephew and his friends are very sweet and totally hilarious, and even take it well when I rail on their collective favorite band (N1cklback), shaking my head and remarking how I had utterly failed as the Cool Aunt. To be fair, they are all fans of The Dictatortots, and seemed to enjoy The Replacements, Slobberbone, and Grand Buffet. It's just, well... Yeah.
They had been awake for over a day already (ah, to be that young again), so I suggested that we get some pizzas and get back to the house so they could nap, or at least relax, before another eight hours in the car. They agreed and we came back to watch The Hulk(The good one, with Edward Norton and Tim Roth).
I was barely awake when I sent them on their way at two in the morning. It was great seeing them What a nice surprise.

Work was dumb.
Burn After Reading was funnier than I remembered.
The dinner party was great.
Donnie makes wicked good pretzels.
Sometimes rats just need to be poisoned.
This may be one of those times.
I'm still debating.

Wormy.

Just finished that 33 1/3 book about Murmur. The first part was good, the middle almost lost me completely because it was so technical as to be painfully boring - I actually skimmed and even skipped some pages altogether, which is completely out of character - and then the end was very interesting again. And most importantly, I finished so I can pass it on to the b.h. My favorite quote by far is this one:
"The same can be said for Murmur's lyrics: anyone's guess is truly as good as anyone else's... the interpretation of rock lyrics is a perilous and often embarrassing prospect I'd prefer to steer clear of out of basic concern of trying not to sound like a complete doofus. In this regard, no rock band in the history of magnetic tape has invited such disaster as R.E.M."
He goes on to provide some hilarious (and some just plain sad) examples.


Almost finished with The Singing Sands and A Hedonist in the Cellar, too. I expect I'll be through both of them before bed. Josephine Tey is just what the doctor ordered for bedtime: Smart enough to be interesting, mysterious enough to make me fight to stay awake for a couple extra pages, but light enough that my mind isn't racing when I finally do decide to put her down. Jay McInerney is just fun and funny. And since I'm trying to learn whatever I can right now about wine, this book has been extremely helpful.

I have long since finished Service Included, which the b.h. has also finished. We both liked many aspects of it but mostly felt that it wasn't novel material. The thing is, I appreciate having insight into the workings of a superfine dining establishment more than anything. While reading this book, I was very impressed by the author's passion for food and the restaurant's dedication both to food and to service, but I found myself at best bored and and at worst annoyed when she talked about her relationship. This is the same way I feel about The West Wing. Stick to what you know, people, and stop trying to be all things blah blah blah. In any case, I learned some things from the book, and that is always a plus.
As soon as I finish JT I'm going to finish Coraline, and then possibly see the movie. I'll also be dipping back into The Fortress of Solitude this week. There are unopened magazines piling up all over the place, too. It's all very exciting.

Happy Valentine's Day, Y'all.

Reading up on different styles of porters. Had one from Smuttynose last night, and it is glorious. Also watched one episode of Smiley's People before passing out cold. I'm assuming that the reason I have no idea what's going on is that it was the first episode.
Two long days at work, and I'm about to embark on another. And then, Sunday. Ahhhhhh.

I think we're going to a dinner party, but we haven't decided what we're making yet. Or rather, we haven't decided what the b.h. is making yet. I think I'll go peruse our stack of Cook's Illustrated.

Happy New Year, Indeed.

A PHOTO ONE




These pictures are great, but it is difficult to do justice to the experience of Chinese New Year in Chinatown, NYC. I also have some video, but blogger is being a bugger and won't upload it properly. Ah well, you'll have to use your imagination.

I had no idea what to expect, but I bundled up and the b.h. and I followed K and soon we were knee deep in confetti and revelers. This was not the actual parade day (we were a week early for that), but it was some kind of firecracker festival or something. Apparently you can only light fireworks during the day (can't say I blame the FDNY for that), so instead of big brilliant fireballs, there was a whole lot of flying confetti.



This is the kind of confetti cannons that were going off everywhere.

The Accountant quoted Mark Twain and Waylon Jennings(complete with actual impersonation! Waylon produced a record for one of his old bands), and told us the story of his wife's great grandfather, after whom Butler Avenue on Tybee Island is named. He was the first mayor of Tybee, and of course, the story behind that is hilarious. It seems that there was another man who was to be the Mayor. They all took a boat over to the island, and the mayor-to-be fell overboard and drowned, leaving great grandpa to take his place.
We owe some money to the government, but other than that it was a lovely time. I'm going to miss that guy. We may just fly back here to do our taxes next year.
After that I took the b.h. to band practice, grabbed him a burrito and dropped it off, and went over to Flicker to have a beer. Jenn was kind enough to meet me and regale me with stories of the Slobberbone shows I missed over the weekend in Texas. I had a couple beers and then the b.h. came back and we went home.
Watched W., the movie. I am still not an Oliver Stone fan, but it was enjoyable enough. Josh Brolin is awesome.
Today I dropped the b.h. at work and ran some errands. I left my headlights on for a short while at one point (with the car off) and so killed my battery. It had actually been drained several times before and I knew it was getting time for a new one. I ended up getting it today. Boooo. But yay. At least it didn't die in the middle of the night and/or in the middle of nowhere. Whatever. I gave KG a bath and picked up the b.h. from work just in time to get to work myself. Business is down at the LLS, what with the economy in the toilet and all. It was a long and slow night. Now I'm home and I've had a Smuttynose Porter and I'm ready to turn in. Hasta manana.

Yesterday we got all gussied up and went to our friends' wedding reception. The weather was gorgeous, and we didn't need coats even outside. Found out that a couple friends are pregnant (on purpose, which is always great news), had a glass of wine and some terrific food from The National, and fantasized about getting married again. The first time was a lot of fun, but I think I'd just like to throw a big shindig like that every few years.
Last night we watched a movie and went to bed early. Today I worked at the LLS for a few hours, long enough to be there when we received our first shipment of Smuttynose beer, which is very exciting. I didn't have enough for a mixed twelve pack, so I grabbed a six pack of the porter and I'm chilling it as we speak.
Tonight I have a wine and chocolate tasting to attend (oh no, don't throw me in the briar patch!). I feel like I may be coming down with something, but it could just be allergies. Not sure. In any case I'm off tomorrow so I'm not terribly worried about it.
Tomorrow we go to the accountant. I love going to the accountant, not because I enjoy giving money to the government, but because our accountant is hilarious. He has a great blue-blood Southern accent and always has stories about his younger days in rock and roll. ("Once, we were at Cher's house in Malibu..."). I doubt very seriously that any accountant we find in Vermont will have a gold record on his or her wall, but we can always hope.

We have a new hard drive, but the b.h. is still trying to retrieve everything from backup. We'll see.
Thursday night we both worked, and I had the good fortune of getting sprung early (I had a Paper Scissors Rock duel with my co-worker to win the privilege; I chose rock, of course, and therefore got to rock), which allowed me to see Patterson Hood & friends at Farm 255. His friends included William Tonks, Dave Barbe, Easy B, Don Chambers, John Neff, and the fabulous Mr. Dave Marr. I got to hear many of my favorite songs, quaff a couple Dogfish Head 90 minute pale ales, and hang out with the b.h. It was indescribably wonderful. We had every intention of going to the 40 Watt after, but it was very late when they finally quit and we both had to work early in the morning, so we decided to head home instead (I really am getting too responsible in my old age).
Friday morning was painful, but with the bonus that by the time I was fully awake my work day was half over. Work was enjoyable.
I got fresh samosas from the boss lady's parents, who know from samosas. They were cheap and delicious, and kept the b.h. from having to do any manual labor when we got home.
We rented Death Rac3, which we knew was not going to be thought-provoking (I could watch Ian McShane butter toast for two hours, though, so who cares?), and basically just turned off our brains when we got home. Went to bed very early. Still not finished reading Coraline, despite its being a children's book and an easy read, because I keep nodding off moments after turning in.
Woke up early to take the b.h. to work, stopped at the bank and the grocery store, and started some yard work when I got back. It is warm and beautiful outside today, and I'm trying to decide where to take the dogs for a short field trip before I go to work.

The computer repairman is in the next room. He's replacing the hard drive on our new desktop. As I have probably said before, the thing isn't even paid for yet, but luckily we have a lot of warranty.I can only hope that we haven't lost anything important. Mostly for me that would include all of the photos I have taken for the last five years. We do have backup and all that, and the b.h. seems unconcerned, but that is because he is technically inclined and understands technology, whereas it fills me with suspicion and fear.
Note to self: pay for a flickr account and upload everything. That way, when it gets lost, it will be lost to the ether and not just buggered in a useless chunk of metal on a shelf in our office.
Anyway, I've distracted the dogs with K0ng toys filled with peanut butter (bought ages ago and therefore salmonella free!) so they do not molest the poor man. They are behaving for the moment.
We both worked the daytime yesterday, then went to his friends' house to get some firewood. Last night we watched the rest of the Tom Petty documentary, which I highly recommend to everyone, and then did some reading and turned in early. We both work late today, and then the b.h. will go downtown to see Mother Jackson and The Heap and I will join him when I get done at the LLS. Which basically means that working tomorrow morning is going to suck, but there you have it :)
Have a good day everybody, and perhaps I will see you at the rock show.

The b.h. has just informed me that his band got a really shit gig for really good money at a sports bar in Alphafuckingretta in a couple weeks. Hilarious! I kind of want to go just because the idea is a bit ridiculous.

I started The Fortress of Solitude and Neil Gaiman's children's book Coraline. That movie is either just out or about to be, so I wanted to read the book first. I'm enjoying them both.

I know that talking about the weather is a bit of a copout, but right now it is 24 degrees ("feels like 10"!)outside. I would guess it's about forty inside. I am sitting under a dog and a giant blanket with the heat blasting and I am freezing my ass off.

Friday the high will be sixty.

Watching the end of the new Tom Petty documentary Runnin' Down a Dream. It is two discs of genius. I have always loved the man, but now I am beginning to understand what a badass he truly is. I have to go to work at the LLS in a few minutes. As it will surely be even colder there, I am not looking forward to it. Hopefully Lynn will call and need my help at her store so I won't get stuck. We need to collect some firewood before we come home tonight, too. Damn. Think anyone will notice if I just stay here and hunker down?

Shit. Alright, gotta go.

Want!

Decisions, decisions. I don't have any small children, so a plush uterus would be no danger. But the brain is also adorable.

37 Hours.

Off, that is. Tonight and tomorrow. Both of us. Now I just have to figure out which book I'm going to read next. I tore through Service Included, which I got from K, in just a couple of days. Now I'm trying to find that 33 1/3 R.E.M book again, and I've got The Collected Stories of Leonard Michaels (which Roy suggested and I bought with my b-day git certificate from MT), and also Fortress of Solitude, which K bought me at Strand Books (more on that later. Plus I've got the Joe Strummer biography, one called The Gift, which I started already, and a pile of other stuff to read.
Oh, decisions, decisions. Leonard Michaels first, because I can read one story in a short time. I'm gonna go grab a beer and flip a coin or whatever.

New York, Part Deaux.

We woke up earlyish on Sunday, had some coffee and kolacky cookies (I can't find the word "kolacky" in the plural, so there you have it), layered ourselves fully, and set out to shop. I found a lot of stuff that I loved at the first store we went to, but I didn't want to spend all of my money on the first day so I settled for a long wool J. Cr3w coat and a shorter green tweedy Gu3ss coat that has really great buttons and detailing. They were both under twenty bucks. The store was called the Buffal0 Exchange, and I guess it's a chain. Some new stuff, some used stuff. It was chock full of hipsters and bargains. We each left with a full bag, and headed back to the restaurant where K works to drop them off in the office. We got on the subway and went into Manhattan, where we stopped at a Japanese version of the Gap. the name of that store escapes me, but I liked a lot of their clothes. The fitting rooms had long waits, so after a couple of unsuccessful attempts at new jeans I picked up a skirt and a few pairs of socks that were on sale and we got on our way.
The next stop was a place that was full of stuff I really wanted and didn't remotely need. Pearl River, I think it was called. The clothes were ridiculously expensive, but the dishes were very cool and all reasonably priced. I picked up a coffee cup and two bowls (ours keep breaking in the dishwasher. Note to self: No more dishes from fucking Target).
I got a call from the b.h. saying that the band was at the club and they were planning on eating at Katz, the deli famous for its giant pastrami sandwiches (and also for the famous faked orgasm scene in When Harry Met Sally). We stopped by the club to say hello, but chose to eat at a more vegetarian friendly restaurant in the East Village.
Again, I do not remember the name, but it was a full-on veggie place, complete with some kind of shitty "natural" and "healthy" substitute for coffee (as fucking if). K was hilarious. She texted her friend M, who had recommended the place, swearing to get revenge.
Our waitress was slow and not terribly professional, but the food was remarkable. We both had dessert, too. After that we went back to her place to get cleaned up and dressed for the show.
When we got back to the club, it was a thousand degrees inside, which was bad because I had dressed for the cold and immediately started having a panic attack. I went backstage and dumped off a few layers and my coat and was much more comfortable. We ordered a draft for K and a bottle for me, which came to fourteen dollars. Ouch. Then we realized that we had left the cigarettes on her kitchen table, so we ran across the street to buy another pack. $9.25. For C@mel Lights. I have no idea how regular people can afford to smoke there. Luckily we ran into a friend and former Athenian Chris, who was putting the band up for the night. He bought a round for K and me.
The show was great, despite the fact that Donnie had mostly lost his voice. The crowd seemed to like it, too. Afterward K and I went up the street and got the most incredible falafel I think I have ever eaten. It was cheap and delicious, and it made up for the overpriced beer. When we got back to the club, K was accosted by two homeless guys who had earlier harassed her while she was out smoking. I blew past them and opened the door of the club, only to be told by the surly bouncer that there was "NO FOOD ALLOWED INSIDE!"
I told him to get the guys off of us, and he consented to let us hover by the door and eat while the band loaded out. This was made more difficult by the fact that I had bought a sandwich for the b.h., too. I stood there starving, unable to either eat (too messy for one hand) or set one down (pitas are not built to lie down), until K finished and was able to assist me.
We all split up for the night, the b.h. coming with K and me in a cab while the rest of the band went with Chris. It was nice to have the b.h. back, even if just for the night. Made the air mattress a little fuller and me a little warmer. We had a glass of wine, watched an episode of Laverne and Shirley, showered, and turned in.