Molly Burkhart's Blog, page 6
August 26, 2013
Dear Charlie:
I should know better than to make such a provocative statement as "Oh, my allergies haven't been nearly as bad this year." I really should.
So, since I have no voice today and seem to be a shambling, foghorning advertisement for Mucinex, I've been crocheting my little fingers off all morning. I almost hate when I get into a crocheting mood. It's not like you can do much of anything else while crocheting, and I am usually loathe to do only one thing at a time. I cannot not multitask, darn it!
But I'm getting some neat results, so it's enough for now. However, as soon as I'm done with this pair of elbow-length fingerless gloves, it's my turn at my and my beloved sister's collaboration. Heheh.
This is notoriously a busy time of year for me. We're already gearing up for our Ghost Tours in October (my costume is already ready; just need to find some little touches like feathers and beads and such and maybe some moccasins or boots). I'm familiarizing myself with my script -- yup, I'm a tour guide -- and trying to pin down my character.
We'll also have a few promotional events to fit into the schedule. I know we're doing a big festival/parade one of these weekends, but I don't think I'll be doing that one. It's historically a huge crush of people, and while I like a little festivity and the community feeling of a parade, that particular event is just a little too sardines-in-a-can for me. However, there are plenty of other things not so hectic that I'll be in on.
Football is kicking in, too, and this year, I'll actually be able to watch my Chiefs, good or bad. The last two years, I couldn't get the channel that usually broadcast their games, so I was only able to watch like two or three games each season. Torture! But I got the channel this year, so I'm stoked. Also have my fantasy team picked and ready to go.
Oh! And perhaps best of all!
September 6. That's the date. The film Riddick comes out (fair warning - that's the redband trailer), and though I haven't been much of a theater-goer the last couple of years (since 3D infected theaters and inflated the price), and I've never been much of a fight-the-crowd-on-opening-weekend kind of person, oh. I will be watching this one that first weekend.
See, Riddick will always be my favorite Vin Diesel character and perhaps my favorite character ever. I actually haven't tried to narrow it down like that, but the possibility exists. Riddick is an unapologetic bad guy. Others try to use him to do good deeds, and he sometimes complies, but always only on his own terms. He does not take manipulation well.
I don't even care if a given Riddick movie is good or not, so long as Riddick himself is played to perfection. And he is. Of course he is.
So yes, I will be watching the latest installment. It looks to be something of a return to form, which will be nice. Riddick is at his best when his basic survival is in the balance. And, of course, when he has playthings to sacrifice or salvage at his will. I cannot wait.
Anyway, like I said -- a busy time of year. Just lots of stuff like that. And I'll enjoy all of it.
If I can get rid of this allergy funk. Ugh.
So, since I have no voice today and seem to be a shambling, foghorning advertisement for Mucinex, I've been crocheting my little fingers off all morning. I almost hate when I get into a crocheting mood. It's not like you can do much of anything else while crocheting, and I am usually loathe to do only one thing at a time. I cannot not multitask, darn it!
But I'm getting some neat results, so it's enough for now. However, as soon as I'm done with this pair of elbow-length fingerless gloves, it's my turn at my and my beloved sister's collaboration. Heheh.
This is notoriously a busy time of year for me. We're already gearing up for our Ghost Tours in October (my costume is already ready; just need to find some little touches like feathers and beads and such and maybe some moccasins or boots). I'm familiarizing myself with my script -- yup, I'm a tour guide -- and trying to pin down my character.
We'll also have a few promotional events to fit into the schedule. I know we're doing a big festival/parade one of these weekends, but I don't think I'll be doing that one. It's historically a huge crush of people, and while I like a little festivity and the community feeling of a parade, that particular event is just a little too sardines-in-a-can for me. However, there are plenty of other things not so hectic that I'll be in on.
Football is kicking in, too, and this year, I'll actually be able to watch my Chiefs, good or bad. The last two years, I couldn't get the channel that usually broadcast their games, so I was only able to watch like two or three games each season. Torture! But I got the channel this year, so I'm stoked. Also have my fantasy team picked and ready to go.
Oh! And perhaps best of all!
September 6. That's the date. The film Riddick comes out (fair warning - that's the redband trailer), and though I haven't been much of a theater-goer the last couple of years (since 3D infected theaters and inflated the price), and I've never been much of a fight-the-crowd-on-opening-weekend kind of person, oh. I will be watching this one that first weekend.
See, Riddick will always be my favorite Vin Diesel character and perhaps my favorite character ever. I actually haven't tried to narrow it down like that, but the possibility exists. Riddick is an unapologetic bad guy. Others try to use him to do good deeds, and he sometimes complies, but always only on his own terms. He does not take manipulation well.
I don't even care if a given Riddick movie is good or not, so long as Riddick himself is played to perfection. And he is. Of course he is.
So yes, I will be watching the latest installment. It looks to be something of a return to form, which will be nice. Riddick is at his best when his basic survival is in the balance. And, of course, when he has playthings to sacrifice or salvage at his will. I cannot wait.
Anyway, like I said -- a busy time of year. Just lots of stuff like that. And I'll enjoy all of it.
If I can get rid of this allergy funk. Ugh.
July 29, 2013
Dear Charlie:
Holy crap. I missed a whole month in there somewhere, and it's been almost two months since I blogged. *slaps hand* Bad blogger!
I know everyone's just on tenterhooks to know what I've been up to, but... yeah. Just busy. Mostly with work, but busy in general. Nothing I can point to specifically.
I've been writing like crazy, but not on any one thing. My beloved sister and I are collaborating on a story, and that's hotter than a match head. She had to veer off for a bit to write like a madwoman on another story (holy cow, SO MANY WORDS!), but we'll be back in our little mishmash soon enough.
Also writing on other things. Lots of other things. A little bit here, a little bit there. A friend at work got me watching one of the latest reality TV/contests -- I know, right? just kill me now! -- that sparked an idea, so I've mostly been plotting on that and getting the first few chapters out. They're pretty crucial -- moreso than intro chapters usually are. Why? Well, they have to set up a lot that will only become important later without being boring now.
Anyway....
Between keeping the new place tidy -- I've mentioned that I'm an awful housekeeper, right? -- and cooking all sorts of new stuff -- stuffed cabbage rolls, anyone? yum! -- I've been a busy little bee. Whew. But I love the new place. A few more spiders than I was used to at the apartments, but hey. Small trade-off for peace and quiet and my own place and, ya know, room for stuff.
Whew. See? Nothing really worth putting up a whole blog post about, even with it all wadded up together. I'm just about ready to seriously shop for a loveseat, some bookshelves, and some kind of counter extension for my kitchen. Here's hoping for cheap but sturdy used stuff with no horror beasts inside.
I've gotta stopped reading Cracked.com articles. Sheesh.
I know everyone's just on tenterhooks to know what I've been up to, but... yeah. Just busy. Mostly with work, but busy in general. Nothing I can point to specifically.
I've been writing like crazy, but not on any one thing. My beloved sister and I are collaborating on a story, and that's hotter than a match head. She had to veer off for a bit to write like a madwoman on another story (holy cow, SO MANY WORDS!), but we'll be back in our little mishmash soon enough.
Also writing on other things. Lots of other things. A little bit here, a little bit there. A friend at work got me watching one of the latest reality TV/contests -- I know, right? just kill me now! -- that sparked an idea, so I've mostly been plotting on that and getting the first few chapters out. They're pretty crucial -- moreso than intro chapters usually are. Why? Well, they have to set up a lot that will only become important later without being boring now.
Anyway....
Between keeping the new place tidy -- I've mentioned that I'm an awful housekeeper, right? -- and cooking all sorts of new stuff -- stuffed cabbage rolls, anyone? yum! -- I've been a busy little bee. Whew. But I love the new place. A few more spiders than I was used to at the apartments, but hey. Small trade-off for peace and quiet and my own place and, ya know, room for stuff.
Whew. See? Nothing really worth putting up a whole blog post about, even with it all wadded up together. I'm just about ready to seriously shop for a loveseat, some bookshelves, and some kind of counter extension for my kitchen. Here's hoping for cheap but sturdy used stuff with no horror beasts inside.
I've gotta stopped reading Cracked.com articles. Sheesh.
May 19, 2013
Dear Charlie:
Well, I got moved. Heh, if that sounds like an understatement, it totally is. I just about killed myself going from not knowing I was moving to being moved in four days flat. My dodgy knee still hasn't fully forgiven me, though it's finally back to confining its grumbles to rainy days.
Oh, I still have loads to unpack, but I have to do some furniture replacement before I can do most of that. All the daily items are already in place and set. Most of what I need are bookshelves. Lots of bookshelves. I want to finally unpack all my books!
But I like it here. It's much quieter, and it's far enough removed from the center of town that I feel like I'm leaving it behind when I come home from work every day. That's a good feeling for someone who wasn't raised in a small city and has never fully gotten used to all the noise and bustle.
I've even managed to get in some writing, as the little bump on my progress bar over in the sidebar (finally) shows. Not much -- not anywhere close to my prior productivity -- but I'm tiptoeing back in. I want to finish something and remind myself of that glorious, freeing, completed-and-done feeling.
On a semi-related sidebar, I borrowed my beloved sister's steampunk tarot deck and am familiarizing myself with the cards and their meanings. I've always been interested in tarot, and Joely gets all sorts of amazing inspiration from them for her characters and for story elements, so I thought I'd give them a try. Plus, I love learning almost anything new.
However, while I assumed they would spark renewed energy on my steampunk story -- well, of course I did -- they've actually done something quite different. I gave myself a very basic reading -- just the past, present, future spread -- and blew my own mind.
Without details -- those are too personal for such a public format -- I looked at my three cards and realized that they spoke nothing but the truth. Usually, as with horoscopes, you mentally fit your current circumstances and what you want to what you're reading or seeing. However, for the most part, this time was the complete opposite.
When I flipped over that first card, I knew even without checking with the tarot guide that it was significant. A little chill ran through me. Sure enough, when I checked the meaning, it was spot on for a significant part of my past.
The middle card threw me at first because it didn't seem to relate. Not to the first card and not to my present situation. It wasn't until I looked into the meaning of it that I understood its relevance. And once I did, illumination struck and, again, I saw the truth of it.
And then, I flipped over the last card, and that same chill shot through me. Again, without knowing what it meant, I sort of already knew what it meant. The guide only clarified why it was so significant.
In all, that quickie just-to-learn-how-to-do-it reading left me with one inarguable truth: I can either do something, or I can do nothing.
Guess which I choose?
Oh, I still have loads to unpack, but I have to do some furniture replacement before I can do most of that. All the daily items are already in place and set. Most of what I need are bookshelves. Lots of bookshelves. I want to finally unpack all my books!
But I like it here. It's much quieter, and it's far enough removed from the center of town that I feel like I'm leaving it behind when I come home from work every day. That's a good feeling for someone who wasn't raised in a small city and has never fully gotten used to all the noise and bustle.
I've even managed to get in some writing, as the little bump on my progress bar over in the sidebar (finally) shows. Not much -- not anywhere close to my prior productivity -- but I'm tiptoeing back in. I want to finish something and remind myself of that glorious, freeing, completed-and-done feeling.
On a semi-related sidebar, I borrowed my beloved sister's steampunk tarot deck and am familiarizing myself with the cards and their meanings. I've always been interested in tarot, and Joely gets all sorts of amazing inspiration from them for her characters and for story elements, so I thought I'd give them a try. Plus, I love learning almost anything new.
However, while I assumed they would spark renewed energy on my steampunk story -- well, of course I did -- they've actually done something quite different. I gave myself a very basic reading -- just the past, present, future spread -- and blew my own mind.
Without details -- those are too personal for such a public format -- I looked at my three cards and realized that they spoke nothing but the truth. Usually, as with horoscopes, you mentally fit your current circumstances and what you want to what you're reading or seeing. However, for the most part, this time was the complete opposite.
When I flipped over that first card, I knew even without checking with the tarot guide that it was significant. A little chill ran through me. Sure enough, when I checked the meaning, it was spot on for a significant part of my past.
The middle card threw me at first because it didn't seem to relate. Not to the first card and not to my present situation. It wasn't until I looked into the meaning of it that I understood its relevance. And once I did, illumination struck and, again, I saw the truth of it.
And then, I flipped over the last card, and that same chill shot through me. Again, without knowing what it meant, I sort of already knew what it meant. The guide only clarified why it was so significant.
In all, that quickie just-to-learn-how-to-do-it reading left me with one inarguable truth: I can either do something, or I can do nothing.
Guess which I choose?
April 18, 2013
Dear Charlie:
Woot! I got a sweet duplex that's more than a block away from the train tracks! And I'm moving this weekend!
...Wait, what??
Yes. My contract on the little studio apartment I've been camping in for the last two years isn't up until the end of May, but I started looking for something early because you never know how long it'll take to find something decent -- remember that we're still rebuilding, so while we're not down by a third anymore, we're still down by enough to adversely effect rent prices -- or how long it'll take to process your application and run your references, etc.
But you could have knocked me over with a feather when the first place I was seriously interested in had just opened up a unit the day before and was looking to fill it quickly. And it was a place where my ex had stayed before and loved, so having him as a reference was a huge push in my favor. And it's so much more room than I've gotten used to that I'll actually be able to unpack all my stuff and feel like I live there!
And oh, it's sooooo quiet there. The duplex units are built far apart, so I'll really only have the one neighbor through the wall. It's outside the main business of town, so traffic is light and there's not a lot of just random city noise. I don't see a lot of toys and kid stuff cluttering the various grounds, so I'm thinking there aren't a lot of kids, and that cuts down a lot of noise right there.
Yes. I'm an old cranky spinster lady who'll soon be whacking at teenagers' shins with her cane. But man, some peace and quite is just what I yearn for, and a secluded duplex just outside town is as close to a house in the country as I can do right now, so I am absolutely stoked.
For instance, right now as I'm typing this, there's some jerk out in the parking lot who thinks blaring his car's bass enough that someone on the second floor can hear it through closed doors and window is perfectly fine. It's not, and I can't wait until I move far, far away from that.
But man, it hit hard and fast. I had to call and get all the utilities transferred to my name so I can get them on tomorrow (otherwise, it would be Monday or even Tuesday). I had to put in my notice with the current apartment complex. Had to cancel my Third Thursday performance I was supposed to be at so I could do the utilities/notice thing (because utilities calls seem to always take forever, though the reps I spoke to were all very nice and helpful).
And then I boxed up my DVDs. Heheh. Yeah, that took a while. I have... a few.
A few boxes full. Heheh.
Anyway, since I wasn't quite ready to move right this second, the next couple of days will be interesting, but oh, so rewarding when they're over. I can't wait!
...Wait, what??
Yes. My contract on the little studio apartment I've been camping in for the last two years isn't up until the end of May, but I started looking for something early because you never know how long it'll take to find something decent -- remember that we're still rebuilding, so while we're not down by a third anymore, we're still down by enough to adversely effect rent prices -- or how long it'll take to process your application and run your references, etc.
But you could have knocked me over with a feather when the first place I was seriously interested in had just opened up a unit the day before and was looking to fill it quickly. And it was a place where my ex had stayed before and loved, so having him as a reference was a huge push in my favor. And it's so much more room than I've gotten used to that I'll actually be able to unpack all my stuff and feel like I live there!
And oh, it's sooooo quiet there. The duplex units are built far apart, so I'll really only have the one neighbor through the wall. It's outside the main business of town, so traffic is light and there's not a lot of just random city noise. I don't see a lot of toys and kid stuff cluttering the various grounds, so I'm thinking there aren't a lot of kids, and that cuts down a lot of noise right there.
Yes. I'm an old cranky spinster lady who'll soon be whacking at teenagers' shins with her cane. But man, some peace and quite is just what I yearn for, and a secluded duplex just outside town is as close to a house in the country as I can do right now, so I am absolutely stoked.
For instance, right now as I'm typing this, there's some jerk out in the parking lot who thinks blaring his car's bass enough that someone on the second floor can hear it through closed doors and window is perfectly fine. It's not, and I can't wait until I move far, far away from that.
But man, it hit hard and fast. I had to call and get all the utilities transferred to my name so I can get them on tomorrow (otherwise, it would be Monday or even Tuesday). I had to put in my notice with the current apartment complex. Had to cancel my Third Thursday performance I was supposed to be at so I could do the utilities/notice thing (because utilities calls seem to always take forever, though the reps I spoke to were all very nice and helpful).
And then I boxed up my DVDs. Heheh. Yeah, that took a while. I have... a few.
A few boxes full. Heheh.
Anyway, since I wasn't quite ready to move right this second, the next couple of days will be interesting, but oh, so rewarding when they're over. I can't wait!
April 1, 2013
Dear Charlie:
Good God, this year is flying!
We just started rehearsals for our ghost tours/séance, and I gotta tell you that this séance will be priceless. I get to play the psychic medium, and I cannot wait to be dramatic and overdone!
Plus, I tried on my costume the other night, and it's gorgeous. And flattering! And that's saying a lot when it comes to me, because sometimes I think Quasimodo would look better in a dress than me. Oi.
Anyway, the script is priceless with much teasing and a few good scares. Since our location was recently redecorated as a 1920s speakeasy, we're setting our séance in that era. The costumes will be lots of fun, the banter old-fashioned and sassy, and the setting gorgeous... but the effects are pure 21st Century. Heheh. Because we're evil like that.
Also, I'm writing up a storm on a fun project that will probably intersperse whatever actual project I'm writing on at any given moment. There will also be doodling, which is one of my favorite things. And a good helping of smartass, also a favorite thing.
Great. Now I want to rewrite a classic with doodling and smartassedness. Clearly, it's time to wrap up this drive-by blogging.
Run away! Save yourselves!
We just started rehearsals for our ghost tours/séance, and I gotta tell you that this séance will be priceless. I get to play the psychic medium, and I cannot wait to be dramatic and overdone!
Plus, I tried on my costume the other night, and it's gorgeous. And flattering! And that's saying a lot when it comes to me, because sometimes I think Quasimodo would look better in a dress than me. Oi.
Anyway, the script is priceless with much teasing and a few good scares. Since our location was recently redecorated as a 1920s speakeasy, we're setting our séance in that era. The costumes will be lots of fun, the banter old-fashioned and sassy, and the setting gorgeous... but the effects are pure 21st Century. Heheh. Because we're evil like that.
Also, I'm writing up a storm on a fun project that will probably intersperse whatever actual project I'm writing on at any given moment. There will also be doodling, which is one of my favorite things. And a good helping of smartass, also a favorite thing.
Great. Now I want to rewrite a classic with doodling and smartassedness. Clearly, it's time to wrap up this drive-by blogging.
Run away! Save yourselves!
March 7, 2013
Dear Charlie:
Lemme brush off the dust and get comfortable.
Yeesh. It's already freakin March. How the heck did that happen? I mean, I had that awesome meal at Mythos and then I blinked and it was March. Geez.
Of course, part of that is that I've been busy as hell. I know. Shocking. But I really did plan to not get involved in anything outside of work for a couple of months after DickensFest. To take a break.
So I volunteered to join a flashmob at a masquerade in February that would necessitate a month's rehearsals. Oh, and we're doing Spring Ghost Tours again this year, though in May instead of April. Of course, we'll start rehearsing in a few weeks, so there goes April and May both. Then we're doing a murder mystery dinner theater production in July, so there's June and July gone, what with rehearsals and the actual performances.
After that, who knows? It'll be just about time to gear up for October and its ghost tours and hopefully a permanent haunt location.
And then it'll be time to start rehearsals for DickensFest again. And then it'll be 2014.
Pssh. Who needs free time? Sooooo overrated.
And even in addition to all of that, we've had a massive change in software at work, and back when I first rejoined the crew, I was voted in as a "superuser" -- surprisingly, not as awesome as being a superhero -- so I've been neck-deep in helping other users and testing out new procedures and keeping a close eye on processes. Talk about your running the gauntlet!
Of course, there's also been much writing, but clearly not on the work in progress over there in the sidebar. *sigh* Haven't been able to get many words in it for a couple of months now, which chafes. I was on fire there for a while, but I've written on three separate stories since then and still can't seem to get back the feel for it.
Arg.
Anyway, just touching base before heading off to bed. Sleep has been a fickle mistress these last couple of months, so I'd better take it where I can get it. Lovely dreams, all, and I promise it won't be two months before I post again! Yeesh!
Yeesh. It's already freakin March. How the heck did that happen? I mean, I had that awesome meal at Mythos and then I blinked and it was March. Geez.
Of course, part of that is that I've been busy as hell. I know. Shocking. But I really did plan to not get involved in anything outside of work for a couple of months after DickensFest. To take a break.
So I volunteered to join a flashmob at a masquerade in February that would necessitate a month's rehearsals. Oh, and we're doing Spring Ghost Tours again this year, though in May instead of April. Of course, we'll start rehearsing in a few weeks, so there goes April and May both. Then we're doing a murder mystery dinner theater production in July, so there's June and July gone, what with rehearsals and the actual performances.
After that, who knows? It'll be just about time to gear up for October and its ghost tours and hopefully a permanent haunt location.
And then it'll be time to start rehearsals for DickensFest again. And then it'll be 2014.
Pssh. Who needs free time? Sooooo overrated.
And even in addition to all of that, we've had a massive change in software at work, and back when I first rejoined the crew, I was voted in as a "superuser" -- surprisingly, not as awesome as being a superhero -- so I've been neck-deep in helping other users and testing out new procedures and keeping a close eye on processes. Talk about your running the gauntlet!
Of course, there's also been much writing, but clearly not on the work in progress over there in the sidebar. *sigh* Haven't been able to get many words in it for a couple of months now, which chafes. I was on fire there for a while, but I've written on three separate stories since then and still can't seem to get back the feel for it.
Arg.
Anyway, just touching base before heading off to bed. Sleep has been a fickle mistress these last couple of months, so I'd better take it where I can get it. Lovely dreams, all, and I promise it won't be two months before I post again! Yeesh!
January 3, 2013
My Dearest Charles:
Wow, look at that! It's a new year.
And I just had the best meal of it. Yes, I realize it's only the third day of this shiny new annum, but I don't care. I'm sitting here in front of my computer in food nirvana, and while I will have plenty of mighty tasty meals this year, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say none will top this.
Of course, I would only be happy to be proven wrong. I mean... really.
Anyway, when a place has gotten props from a certain famous chef-who-shall-remain-nameless who literally makes his living telling people what they're doing wrong with their restaurant, you know you're in good hands. Plus, I don't go there just all the time -- who can afford to eat out that much?? -- but I definitely make it my stop of choice on certain paydays.
Where, you ask, did I attain this food nirvana? That would be Mythos. Please forgive me if my prose becomes too florid, but I can't help myself.
My beloved sister drives over an hour to eat there several times a year. It's that good. I mean, heck, the food itself is that good, but the service and the atmosphere and the... just... the feeling of welcome you get when you go there is infinitely worth the trip.
I drag friends from work there every couple of/few months for lunch. I recommend it any time anyone's asking where they can get a nice sit down meal, no matter the occasion. I eat there myself.
But tonight. Oh, tonight!
Lobster macaroni and cheese. Succulent and a meal in itself, what with the impossibly creamy sauce, the pieces (not bits) of bacon, the perfect seasoning with juuuuuuuust a zing of spice. That was the appetizer.
I usually don't get an appetizer. I already know I'll be taking home part of whatever I get because, hey, they feed you there. But I could not pass this one up.
I have no complaints. I was already in bliss. I savored almost as long as I would have for an entire meal. It was honestly that good.
Then, came the chicken and rice soup. Eh, anyone can make chicken and rice soup, right? Sure. But this was sooooo good. Rich broth. The perfect proportion of chicken to rice. Just the right amount of vegetables. I could go on, but really, it's the soup. It was great, and let's move on.
To the main course. To the food nirvana.
Start with a bed -- a very lush, full bed -- of creamy, dreamy asparagus risotto. Top it with a gorgeous, perfectly medium rare filet that's a good inch-and-a-half thick and oh, so juicy. Top that with a portabella stuffed with thin, lean bacon, spinach, roasted tomatoes, and brie.
With the first bite, I put aside my book.
You have to understand that I don't go anywhere without a book. They know this quite well, there, and they always ask what I'm reading, yadda yadda. I do not put the book down. I cut my food into manageable pieces and eat while I read. It's almost a joke at this point.
Hell with that. This was too damn good.
So I put down my book and ate slowly, chewing in bliss and savoring every... delectable... bite. When Matt came out to see how I was doing, he said the expression on my face said it all. Good thing, too, because I was chewing. Oh, man. Soooooo good.
Even when I couldn't even eat half of it -- remember the lobster mac-n-cheese that was oh, so tasty to start with -- I sat there, sipping my wine and staring dreamily at the wall in bliss.
All possible compliments, George.
This has been the best day of 2013. I won't say everything's downhill from here, because that would be depressing. I'll just say that topping off a good night's sleep -- how rare are those! -- and a good day's work with the best meal ever?
Yeah.
I'm kinda tempted to take a nice, hot bubble bath with a book and another glass of wine, then go to bed early. In fact, I may just do that.
But even if I don't? Best. Day. Yet.
And I just had the best meal of it. Yes, I realize it's only the third day of this shiny new annum, but I don't care. I'm sitting here in front of my computer in food nirvana, and while I will have plenty of mighty tasty meals this year, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say none will top this.
Of course, I would only be happy to be proven wrong. I mean... really.
Anyway, when a place has gotten props from a certain famous chef-who-shall-remain-nameless who literally makes his living telling people what they're doing wrong with their restaurant, you know you're in good hands. Plus, I don't go there just all the time -- who can afford to eat out that much?? -- but I definitely make it my stop of choice on certain paydays.
Where, you ask, did I attain this food nirvana? That would be Mythos. Please forgive me if my prose becomes too florid, but I can't help myself.
My beloved sister drives over an hour to eat there several times a year. It's that good. I mean, heck, the food itself is that good, but the service and the atmosphere and the... just... the feeling of welcome you get when you go there is infinitely worth the trip.
I drag friends from work there every couple of/few months for lunch. I recommend it any time anyone's asking where they can get a nice sit down meal, no matter the occasion. I eat there myself.
But tonight. Oh, tonight!
Lobster macaroni and cheese. Succulent and a meal in itself, what with the impossibly creamy sauce, the pieces (not bits) of bacon, the perfect seasoning with juuuuuuuust a zing of spice. That was the appetizer.
I usually don't get an appetizer. I already know I'll be taking home part of whatever I get because, hey, they feed you there. But I could not pass this one up.
I have no complaints. I was already in bliss. I savored almost as long as I would have for an entire meal. It was honestly that good.
Then, came the chicken and rice soup. Eh, anyone can make chicken and rice soup, right? Sure. But this was sooooo good. Rich broth. The perfect proportion of chicken to rice. Just the right amount of vegetables. I could go on, but really, it's the soup. It was great, and let's move on.
To the main course. To the food nirvana.
Start with a bed -- a very lush, full bed -- of creamy, dreamy asparagus risotto. Top it with a gorgeous, perfectly medium rare filet that's a good inch-and-a-half thick and oh, so juicy. Top that with a portabella stuffed with thin, lean bacon, spinach, roasted tomatoes, and brie.
With the first bite, I put aside my book.
You have to understand that I don't go anywhere without a book. They know this quite well, there, and they always ask what I'm reading, yadda yadda. I do not put the book down. I cut my food into manageable pieces and eat while I read. It's almost a joke at this point.
Hell with that. This was too damn good.
So I put down my book and ate slowly, chewing in bliss and savoring every... delectable... bite. When Matt came out to see how I was doing, he said the expression on my face said it all. Good thing, too, because I was chewing. Oh, man. Soooooo good.
Even when I couldn't even eat half of it -- remember the lobster mac-n-cheese that was oh, so tasty to start with -- I sat there, sipping my wine and staring dreamily at the wall in bliss.
All possible compliments, George.
This has been the best day of 2013. I won't say everything's downhill from here, because that would be depressing. I'll just say that topping off a good night's sleep -- how rare are those! -- and a good day's work with the best meal ever?
Yeah.
I'm kinda tempted to take a nice, hot bubble bath with a book and another glass of wine, then go to bed early. In fact, I may just do that.
But even if I don't? Best. Day. Yet.
December 20, 2012
Dear Charlie:
In the spirit of the season (and because I've been hideously remiss in posting), I thought I'd gift everyone with a fresh set of Undead Christmas lyrics. Because I like them.
You know the tune. Heheh.
The Twelve Waves of Zombies
In the first wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meA full crate of RPGs
In the second wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the third wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the fourth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meFour flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the fifth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meFIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the sixth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the seventh wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the eighth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the ninth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meNine pressure landminesEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the tenth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meTen clips of ammoNine pressure landminesEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the eleventh wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meEleven crucifixesTen clips of ammoNine pressure landminesEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the twelfth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meTwelve slower scapegoatsEleven crucifixesTen clips of ammoNine pressure landminesEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs!
You know the tune. Heheh.
The Twelve Waves of Zombies
In the first wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meA full crate of RPGs
In the second wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the third wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the fourth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meFour flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the fifth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meFIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the sixth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the seventh wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the eighth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the ninth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meNine pressure landminesEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the tenth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meTen clips of ammoNine pressure landminesEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the eleventh wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meEleven crucifixesTen clips of ammoNine pressure landminesEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs
In the twelfth wave of zombiesMy true love gave to meTwelve slower scapegoatsEleven crucifixesTen clips of ammoNine pressure landminesEight cans of baked beansSeven new machetesSix bricks of C4FIVE SHOTGUN SHELLS!Four flamethrowersThree first aid kitsTwo handy crowbarsAnd a full crate of RPGs!
November 11, 2012
Dear Charlie:
Malaise.
There's nothing particularly wrong. I just feel kinda blue. Part of it is a lingering feeling from Grandad's passing, which is expected and understood. It'll pass. As for the rest, I don't really know. Just feel kinda blah.
I'm still getting words on the story, which is great. It's slow going, but only because of that blah. I get more words over my lunch hour at work, and I'm guessing it's because it's a desktop computer there, which feels more business-like. Sometimes, that makes me feel more like I'm on the clock, so I'd darn well better produce. That's definitely where I've gotten most of my words lately.
But when I open the file at home, I just kinda read over what I have. It reads pretty well, I think. Entertaining in parts, tense in parts. Unfortunately, I seem happy enough to just read. Darn it!
However, this chapter and the next are imperative but not "candybar" scenes. I think that, once I get to the next candybar scene, it'll go like gangbusters again. No worries.
We started rehearsals for DickensFest this weekend, and that always feels good. I'm not a Christmas person -- the time I send with my family is nice, but the rest of the season just pisses me off -- but I love doing DickensFest. I love the weather, the costumes, the accent, the dances, the comraderie. The crowds seem to genuinely love moving through our little bubble of Victorian England and interacting with us, and that's a good feeling.
So, I'm hoping that the writing and the acting and such will blow away those annoying blahs and perk me back up again. I love this time of year -- October is my favorite, of course, but hey -- and I definitely love the cooler temperatures. Just gotta give it some time.
There's nothing particularly wrong. I just feel kinda blue. Part of it is a lingering feeling from Grandad's passing, which is expected and understood. It'll pass. As for the rest, I don't really know. Just feel kinda blah.
I'm still getting words on the story, which is great. It's slow going, but only because of that blah. I get more words over my lunch hour at work, and I'm guessing it's because it's a desktop computer there, which feels more business-like. Sometimes, that makes me feel more like I'm on the clock, so I'd darn well better produce. That's definitely where I've gotten most of my words lately.
But when I open the file at home, I just kinda read over what I have. It reads pretty well, I think. Entertaining in parts, tense in parts. Unfortunately, I seem happy enough to just read. Darn it!
However, this chapter and the next are imperative but not "candybar" scenes. I think that, once I get to the next candybar scene, it'll go like gangbusters again. No worries.
We started rehearsals for DickensFest this weekend, and that always feels good. I'm not a Christmas person -- the time I send with my family is nice, but the rest of the season just pisses me off -- but I love doing DickensFest. I love the weather, the costumes, the accent, the dances, the comraderie. The crowds seem to genuinely love moving through our little bubble of Victorian England and interacting with us, and that's a good feeling.
So, I'm hoping that the writing and the acting and such will blow away those annoying blahs and perk me back up again. I love this time of year -- October is my favorite, of course, but hey -- and I definitely love the cooler temperatures. Just gotta give it some time.
October 31, 2012
Update:
Well, I'm sad to say that Grandad passed this Halloween morning. The mini seizures just kept coming, chipping away at him, and I think he was gone long before his poor body got the message. So, I guess it's for the best. He's not suffering or wasting away.
He's at peace.
Just when we thought he was getting better, a new spate of seizures hit him and just took it out of him. I got the text that he was slipping away, so I made a flying trip to the hospital. When I arrived, they told me they didn't expect him to make it through the night. We'd gone from talking about nursing homes to tragedy.
I held his hand for four hours. He couldn't talk and didn't open his eyes, but he definitely knew if someone let go of that hand. He'd reach for you. So I didn't let go. I held his hand and stroked it, and for the brief few minutes I got alone with him -- family was in and out the whole time, which made the ICU nurses very happy; they couldn't stop talking about how awesome it was that so many relatives wanted to be there -- I sang a little to him and told him I loved him.
By the time I needed to leave, they had revised their opinion that, if his O2 sats stayed where they were, they would transfer him to hospice care in the morning.
Unfortunately, the seizures just didn't stop, and he just didn't have the strength to fight them. Instead of hospice, they just moved him to a regular room and made him as comfortable as possible. With the amount of morphine they gave him, he shouldn't have been in any pain. I hold onto that.
Then, sometime after 4:00 AM, he passed.
The funeral is Sunday in the home town. However, I have to say that I've already said my goodbyes. I did so when I was holding his hand. That's why it was so hard to let it go when I had to head back home. Now, it's just the closure of letting him go.
Wish us luck?
He's at peace.
Just when we thought he was getting better, a new spate of seizures hit him and just took it out of him. I got the text that he was slipping away, so I made a flying trip to the hospital. When I arrived, they told me they didn't expect him to make it through the night. We'd gone from talking about nursing homes to tragedy.
I held his hand for four hours. He couldn't talk and didn't open his eyes, but he definitely knew if someone let go of that hand. He'd reach for you. So I didn't let go. I held his hand and stroked it, and for the brief few minutes I got alone with him -- family was in and out the whole time, which made the ICU nurses very happy; they couldn't stop talking about how awesome it was that so many relatives wanted to be there -- I sang a little to him and told him I loved him.
By the time I needed to leave, they had revised their opinion that, if his O2 sats stayed where they were, they would transfer him to hospice care in the morning.
Unfortunately, the seizures just didn't stop, and he just didn't have the strength to fight them. Instead of hospice, they just moved him to a regular room and made him as comfortable as possible. With the amount of morphine they gave him, he shouldn't have been in any pain. I hold onto that.
Then, sometime after 4:00 AM, he passed.
The funeral is Sunday in the home town. However, I have to say that I've already said my goodbyes. I did so when I was holding his hand. That's why it was so hard to let it go when I had to head back home. Now, it's just the closure of letting him go.
Wish us luck?
