A podcast about books, art & life — not necessarily in that order
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to print this blog out or make a PDF of it, but it used to look godawful in that format. I just figured out how to tailor the CSS file to allow for a print/PDF that looks like the actual page (which you may also think is godawful, but hey). So, if you want to print out the site to show it to all of your non-internettified friends, you can do so with impunity!
Yesterday was the birthday of the official VM wife, so we celebrated with a fancyish dinner at Mignon, in Rutherford, NJ. Because I’m a practical hubby, I got her Lightroom for photo editing & organizing, and a cover for her Mini Cooper. And because I’m romantic and all-powerful, I also blotted the moon out of the sky for her.
For apps, Amy ordered scallops, which turned out to be less a stand-alone food and more a delivery system for the sauce and other accouterments. I went with a tuna tartare salad, which was dosed with chili pepper straight from Los Alamos. Fortunately, my taste buds recovered well enough to appreciate our Alaskan cut ribeyes. The quirky highlight of the meal, however, was at the beginning, when we were served our bread. In addition to the standard butter, the dish also contained “meat spread,” which was basically a little steak tartare intended to be spread on the bread. It may sound gross, but trust me, it was fantastic. Unless you’re a vegetarian, in which case it really was gross.
Anyway, earlier in the day, my friend Cecily stopped in for a lunch visit, and dropped off a birthday gift for Amy and an early anniversary gift, which is putting the pressure on me to come up with a good one. Only 8 days to go! How do I top that lunar eclipse?
Happy 39th birthday to the official VM brother! One year till the new 20, Bobo!
Remember: Robert Parish won an NBA championship at 43! It’s not too late!
. . .just because I’m down a finger, it doesn’t mean I’m not man enough to repair a collapsed kitchen drawer with a hammer, some wire nails and a pair of pliers.
We’re here for 44 hours in San Diego! Of course, I made a mess of the trip before it even started, by slicing a nice bit out of my finger last night, which led to nearly 3 hours in and around the emergency room of the hospital where I was born.
The cut was of the grotesque variety that can’t be stitched up, so treatment consists of “keep pressure on it”. They gave me two doses of Surgifoam to keep pressed on it, but that’s all melted away, so now I’m just wrapping it in sterile gauze and surgical tape, and taking antibiotics to prevent gangrene. This post is being typed without the use of the middle finger of my right hand. Which, I should point out, I cut while slicing a lime for my G&T last night. Adventures in gin, indeed.
On the plus side, we’re in San Diego! And my best friends are getting hitched! Off to the rehearsal dinner! (even though we sneaked over to In-N-Out for burgers a few hours ago.)
Ugh. Who knew this guy was writing again?
The wrestler’s cruel fate.
Last night, Amy & I reminded ourselves why Kung Fu Hustle is the most entertaining movie of the decade (at least, until the sequel comes out next year).
It was an Asian sorta day for us, since we started out the morning at the Chinese market down in Parsippany on Rt. 46. Amy was searching for some stuff, including some kimchi (she held up the jar and said, “‘Sealed for your protection’: no kidding!”), which was part of the evening’s curry stew dinner. Much to her chagrin, she forgot to use her impulse purchase: mustard root.
Anyway, I bring all this up solely so I can post a picture of something I found on the shelf at the market:
Fortunately, they’re “Japanese style”.
Andrew Sullivan has discovered the joys of HD, including “it won’t make sense till you see it on an HDTV” Sunrise Earth. Welcome to the club!
(Here’s my paean to HDTV from October 2005.)
Update: Looks like Sullivan’s taking “HDeification” seriously!